Royal Wedding Threat

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Royal Wedding Threat Page 7

by Rachelle Mccalla


  Half expecting a lecture for ruining her pants, he was surprised when she instead wiped her hands on one of the few unsullied stretches of fabric and asked, “Where do I go next?”

  “This way. I’ll lead you.” He reached for her hand.

  “You can point me in the right direction if you have other places you need to be.” She met his eyes with a fleeting look of challenge before quickly glancing away toward the woods.

  Unsure whether he’d upset her or precisely what her attitude change meant, Jason assured her, “It’s all right. I’ll take you.” He led her up the path that cut along the rocky shoreline to the cluster of secluded cabins. Most of his parents’ neighbors were snowbirds who’d have retreated to their northern abodes this time of year, so he wouldn’t be putting them in harm’s way even if Ava’s enemy managed to track her to the place.

  Since Jason’s father had retired from the royal guard three years before, Michael and Deborah Selini had made the modest seashore retreat their year-round home. Given the location away from the city with access from the sea, and the rocky promontory that hid where he’d anchored the boat, Jason figured it was the best spot to hide the wedding planner, under the circumstances. And Jason’s father often talked about how he missed being part of the royal guard.

  Michael Selini would get to be a part of the action again, at least for a little while. And Jason could trust that Ava would be as safe as she could be, without luring danger back to the royal family. Jason’s biggest concern was Ava’s behavior. He really didn’t want her snapping at his parents or getting into an argument with him in front of them. But for the moment, at least, she seemed to be stunned into silence.

  He prayed she’d stay that way for a little while longer.

  Jason called ahead as they made their way up the trail, so by the time they reached the house, his mother met them at the door. And though Jason had assured her the woman he was bringing by was a professional associate only, his mother’s face lit up when she saw Ava was young and pretty.

  And holding his hand.

  Jason dropped Ava’s hand and held the door for her instead. She stepped inside quickly, apologizing to Deborah for the mud on her clothes. Jason braced himself, fully expecting her to point out the mud was his fault, but instead she placed her duffel bag on the bench and silently removed her muddy shoes on the doormat.

  While his mother searched through some clothes his teenage nieces had left on their last visit, Jason pulled Ava farther inside, out of view from the many porch windows. The family room, connected to the kitchen with a large fireplace in between, had only windows that looked out into the woods. “Can we close those curtains?” he asked.

  His father, who’d been hovering silently since he’d first introduced himself, now got to work closing curtains, while his mother led Ava to the bathroom to change and clean up. Jason called royal-guard headquarters for an update. As he’d feared, the gunman had disappeared among the many matching boats from the same rental company. Jason kicked himself for not inspecting the boat more closely to find an identification number or a name as they’d left the island, but he’d been focused entirely on getting Ava safely beyond the gunman’s range.

  Now they had nothing but a list the boat-rental company had provided of the names of everyone who’d rented out a boat during the applicable time frame. There were forty-seven names and every likelihood their gunman used a fake one.

  Maybe Ava was right. Perhaps he should have confronted the gunman on the island, regardless of the risks. If he’d killed or captured the man there, the royal family would arguably be safe now. So why hadn’t Jason confronted him?

  Surely he wasn’t that worried about Ava getting hurt. Granted, hearing her story about her mother had changed his attitude toward her. He realized part of her tough exterior was likely a device for keeping her hurting heart from being further injured. But keeping the royal family safe was still a greater priority to him than worrying about Ava’s safety.

  His dispatcher’s update didn’t sit well with him.

  “Investigate every one of them. I don’t care if it’s your own grandmother,” Jason told Oliver.

  “We’re already on it,” Oliver assured him. “And there’s something more. When we briefed the evening shift on the situation, we learned a man approached the guardhouse at the pedestrian gate last evening and asked after Ava Wright.”

  “What? Who? Do we have surveillance footage of this man?”

  “I’ve pulled up the footage from the two cameras that cover the guard booth and his approach from across the street. Unfortunately his baseball cap was pulled low and covered most of his face, given that the cameras are mounted above.”

  Jason let out a disappointed breath. “Any other identifying features?”

  “Dark hair. Average height, average build.”

  “What exactly did he say?”

  “He asked if Ava Wright was around. Since she’d already returned to her apartment for the evening, the men told him she wasn’t. He turned and left. That’s all.”

  “Save that footage. I want to see it when I come in.”

  “Of course. When will you be in?”

  Jason hesitated, torn. From the sound of it, his men had everything under control—there wasn’t anything he could do that wasn’t already being done. Besides not wanting to burden his parents with taking care of Ava alone, he had more questions he needed to ask her. The circumstances surrounding her mother’s death seemed more than fishy, but Ava wouldn’t like his questions, not given what he needed to ask. It might take him a while to get the answers he needed.

  “I’m not sure, Oliver. There’s more going on here than what we’ve learned. I’m going to try to sort out the details, but it seems—” he raked his hair back as he tried to choose his words judiciously “—we’re up against a determined killer.”

  With a few words of encouragement, Jason ended the call, still mulling over his choice of words. Normally, given that the attempts on Ava’s life hadn’t succeeded, he’d have referred to their enemy as an attempted murderer. But from what he’d learned so far, it seemed most likely the man who was after Ava had successfully killed before and wouldn’t back off until he’d killed again.

  As Jason explained the situation and hashed out security issues with his father, Ava exited the bathroom, the jagged stripes of her zebra-print top replaced with a pink kitten-adorned T-shirt. She’d traded her once-crisp white slacks for a pair of worn, oversize blue jeans, and soft baby-blue slipper-socks covered her feet. Her hair had fallen into limp curls after the wind and sea spray had finished with it. Ava had obviously tried to comb them flat, but already they were drying into floppy curls that framed her wide eyes, softening her usually severe look.

  Gone was her makeup, too. Instead of her usual war paint, Ava’s cheeks danced with freckles, and her pale pink lips looked fuller without the usual dark red veneer. She looked up at him with uncertainty in her eyes, all the usual fight gone, along with her perennial glare.

  Jason smiled at her. He told himself he needed to be friendly, especially given the questions he was soon to ask and how they were certain to upset her. But also, he realized with odd fascination, Ava didn’t look like her usual self. She looked more like the pretty girl in the picture he’d found on her desk.

  Ava caught her lower lip in her teeth and glanced around, clearly out of her element. This wasn’t a wedding. She wasn’t in charge. In fact, she was surrounded by Selinis.

  Just as Jason stepped toward her, his mother pulled her head out from where she’d been rummaging in the refrigerator.

  “Have you had supper? Can I get you something to eat?” Deborah asked.

  “That’s so sweet of you. I hate to be a bother.” Ava offered the woman a strained half smile. “Something warm, perhaps? I can’t stop shivering.”

  The summer evening
hadn’t cooled much, but Jason suspected Ava’s chill came from the threats against her life and her fear of what would happen next.

  While his mother began fixing a bowl of soup and a warm cup of tea for the wedding planner, Jason grabbed the duffel bag she’d left in the enclosed porch. “I’d like to look at these documents more closely. Can you join me?”

  His mom shooed them out of the kitchen while she heated their soup and tea. Ava followed Jason to the family room, where his father occupied the large recliner. His mother’s chair was positioned on the other side of his father’s, nearest the kitchen. Ava hesitated between the sofa and the chair.

  Jason led her to the couch. “Sorry. You’ll have to sit beside me.”

  Though Ava hesitated, she didn’t protest but picked up one of the pillows that leaned against the sofa arm, then perched in its spot, clutching the pillow tight to her chest as she watched him with wide eyes.

  Guilt swirled inside him. He reminded himself he’d done his best, and fortunately kept her safe thus far, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d soon be asking her very difficult questions. He’d have to choose his words wisely.

  * * *

  Ava watched Jason lower himself onto the sofa beside her. “Does your back hurt?” She realized he’d been hit plenty hard by the car that morning. No doubt rappelling down the tower and falling to the rocky ground below hadn’t helped any.

  “What’s wrong with your back?” Jason’s father asked before the captain could answer.

  “He got hit by a car this morning,” Ava answered when Jason merely shrugged and winced.

  While Jason’s mom shrieked and tutted from the kitchen, quizzing him on how badly he’d been hit and whether he’d gone straight to the doctor, Michael Selini got up from his chair. “I’ll get you a heat pack for that. Do you want any painkillers?”

  “Of course he needs painkillers,” Deborah insisted while Jason reluctantly agreed.

  “I need to talk to the wedding planner,” Jason reminded his parents.

  His father brought him pills and a mug of tea, then returned with a mug for Ava and a warmed heat pack for Jason’s back. Jason adjusted the pack several times, but it kept sliding off.

  “Here. Let me help.” Ava picked up the fallen bag. “Where do you want it?”

  “Middle back. Up a little. To the left,” Jason directed her as she adjusted the bag.

  She found she had to scoot closer to him to reach around his wide shoulders. That brought her knees next to his and their faces close enough she could see the five-o’clock shadow sprouting on his chin. How had she never before noticed how handsome he was? The man had a fine, angular jaw. And though his glare could be commanding, his gray eyes sparkled with concern and compassion and...other things she shouldn’t be thinking about.

  Jason was an excellent captain of the guard with an important job to do. It was her fault he’d been injured and had been forced to do so many brave things just to keep her safe. In fact, she felt awful that he was with her now, instead of back at headquarters with his men, protecting the royals as he was supposed to.

  She vowed to cooperate with his questions and not keep him any longer from his work. More than that, she pondered what she ought to do. By rights, she ought to leave Lydia to lure her would-be killer away from the royal family, instead of closer to them. But with Alexander’s wedding just over a week away, she’d only be leaving them in the lurch if she tried to flee now. They needed her there for the wedding to go smoothly.

  Nor could they postpone the event. International dignitaries were planning to attend. They’d made their reservations. All of Lydia had prepared to host them, with hotels adding rooms and restaurants adding staff in preparation for the deluge of guests and the boon to the tourism industry. On top of that, the media had already descended on the town, reporting on each foreign dignitary as he or she arrived, and speculating on what the cake and the dress might look like.

  Without Ava, the event would be an internationally broadcast flop. She couldn’t leave. But she also couldn’t stand the thought that harm might come to the royals because of her.

  Jason’s parents brought them mugs of soup, then disappeared outside, with Michael insisting on walking the perimeter and Deborah refusing to let him go alone. As the door closed behind them, Ava realized she couldn’t hold the heat pack on Jason’s back and eat her soup at the same time.

  “It’s okay. My back feels better already.”

  She placed the heat pack on the glass-topped coffee table and tasted the soup, a spicy Mediterranean chicken with large chunks of vegetables. “This is delicious. It was very kind of your mother to go out of her way—I hope I’m not endangering them by being here.”

  “They’re glad to do it,” Jason hastily assured her. “I doubt we’ve been followed. My guess is that the gunman was entirely focused on hiding from the helicopters, not on following us. We’ll wait awhile to make sure he doesn’t show up. If everything stays quiet here, I’ll have the guard send a car for us, preferably while it’s still dark. They can take a roundabout route to throw off anyone who might follow them.”

  “That sounds like a wise plan.” Ava sipped another spoonful of soup.

  Jason raised an eyebrow and watched her warily.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You haven’t yelled at me in a while.”

  “I really don’t yell that often.” She defended herself, quickly reviewing her patterns. Yes, there were times when she got snippy with vendors, especially when they tried to pass off inferior products, but she never yelled at any member of the wedding party. “You usually provoke me.”

  Jason scowled.

  Ava analyzed her claim. Did the captain of the guard really provoke her that much? Or did she deliberately push him away, even more than she pushed others? Maybe it was because he was an authority figure who often defied her. Or perhaps she had noticed how handsome he was, but told herself otherwise because she didn’t want to admit she might be attracted to him.

  Finally, in a small voice, she offered, “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault someone’s trying to kill you.”

  “Not that. I’m sorry for that, too, but I meant that I’m sorry to have yelled at you.” As she spoke the words, she realized just how much she meant them. Her thoughts flooded with the memory of clinging to Jason as he carried her down the rope on the island—of how terrified she’d felt because of the gunman, but how safe Jason had kept her. How could she have yelled at this man? He’d dived in front of a speeding car for her. If she’d doubted for a moment the impact of his selflessness, she only had to recall how the car had dented his body armor.

  He’d risked so much for her.

  “Don’t cry,” Jason begged.

  Only then did Ava realize tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.” She set her soup on the coffee table and swiped at the tears with her hands.

  Jason pulled the towel from around the heat pack and handed it to her. “You’re not fine, but that’s perfectly understandable given what you’ve been through today.”

  She clamped the cloth against her eyelids as though she could force the tears back. “I’m not the one who’s been through so much. You were hit by a car.”

  “What’s that?”

  Ava realized the towel had muffled her words. She peeked past it and met his eyes. “You were hit by a car. You could have been killed.”

  Jason looked back at her with apology on his face. She wasn’t sure how she expected him to respond to her tearful apology, but she certainly wasn’t expecting his resigned words, spoken in a grim voice. “I need to ask you a question.”

  “What?”

  “Did your mother have a life-insurance policy?”

  Ava swallowed. His words seemed to come from no
where, and yet...her mother had been killed, hit by a car. Someone had tried to hit Ava with a car. The events were similar, but Ava didn’t see what insurance had to do with any of it. She answered hesitantly, though she was sure of her answer. “Yes.”

  “Who was the beneficiary?”

  “My father and me. But we haven’t gotten anything yet. The insurance company has it all tied up in court. There was a clause against suicide. They claim my mother stepped out in front of an oncoming car, deliberately.”

  Jason nodded solemnly. “How much was the policy worth?”

  “Half a million dollars. That may sound like a lot of money, but it’s fairly standard, hardly exorbitant. She qualified for a low rate because of her excellent health.” Ava quoted all she could remember, still not seeing clearly why Jason wanted to know. Unless... “You don’t think she was hit on purpose, do you?”

  EIGHT

  Jason clenched his jaw, hating the conversation, hating the pain that stretched across Ava’s freckled face as she realized the reasoning behind his questions. He didn’t know what more to say, not without causing her further pain.

  She leaned away from him and shook her head slowly. “No. No. The only people who’d have any reason to do that—” Her voice caught, and she pressed the towel to her eyes again.

  “How viable was your mother when your father withdrew life support?”

  Ava shook her head, red color flushing to her face as she lowered the towel and stood on shaking feet. “No. My father didn’t kill my mother.”

  “Isn’t that what you accused him of?” Jason recalled her words clearly, their meaning too stark for him to soon forget.

  “I didn’t mean it like that.” She flung the towel down on the coffee table and walked toward the door.

  Jason didn’t know where she intended to go, but he couldn’t let her leave, not when a killer was out there somewhere, searching for her, hoping to finish the job. “Ava.” He caught her arm.

 

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