Lethal Peril_Military Romantic Suspense

by Emily Jane Trent

  Wyatt patted Jeremy on the back, then gave him a quick brotherly hug. “How are you these days?”

  “Good, real good.” Jeremy shifted from one foot to the other. “We’ll have to get together for a beer or something while you’re in town. I’d stay, but I’m on my way to the office.”

  “Sure,” Wyatt said, “we’ll do that.”

  “Nice to see you too, Beth. I hear you need my sister’s fashion advice.”

  “Yep, I sure do.” Jeremy worked long hours, so Beth didn’t see him as often as his sister. But she’d frequently run into him at family get-togethers or at his sister’s place.

  Jeremy kissed his sister on the cheek. “I’ll call you,” he said before he left. “And thanks for the legal advice.”

  Wyatt plopped into a chair. “He seems to be doing well.”

  As she took a seat, Jessica gave Beth a knowing glance. Obviously, she’d planned it so the brothers were there at the same time. “Yes, he is doing a great job. And he’s made some good changes,” she said. “Ones that I think would meet with your approval.”

  “I’m not in charge there, nor do I plan to be,” Wyatt said. “So whatever he does, I’m in no position to be critical.”

  His sister continued, “He’s donated to a variety of environmental programs, and supports charities. And he is determined to run a business we can all be proud of.”

  Wyatt crossed his arms. “And Dad lets him make the decisions?”

  “So it seems. Once he retired, he didn’t interfere. Not that he wouldn’t, but he’s been traveling a lot. I guess he has other interests now. I get postcards from him.”

  “Where is he currently?”

  “In Florence—enjoying the wine and women, no doubt,” Jessica said.

  Beth clasped her hands in her lap and looked over at Wyatt. He and Jessica had lost their mother when they were still in grade school, a result of a drunk driver hitting her vehicle head-on. It had happened so long ago that Wyatt didn’t talk about it.

  “How is the old guy?” Wyatt asked. The chasm had developed between Wyatt and his father, far before his joining the Navy had become an issue.

  “Mean as ever.” Jessica laughed, and the others joined in.

  “Where’s Michael today?” Beth asked, referring to Jessica’s recent heartthrob.

  “He’s at the office. I took a personal day to go with you.” She looked at her brother. “You didn’t give Beth much notice to come up with an outfit suitable for a celebrity wedding.”

  “I didn’t know she was going to show up in LA, or that she’d be my constant companion,” Wyatt said. “Anyway, I should head out and let you women get to shopping.” He stood and looked at his sister. “Where’s your protection team?”

  “Out in front in the bulletproof car,” Jessica said, and held up her phone. “I got a text from Leo when he arrived; he’s served as my bodyguard before.”

  Wyatt gave his sister a quick hug and headed for the door. “I guess criminal law can be a dangerous career.”

  “Defense work has its risks. I’ve heard about a home break-in by the friends of a disgruntled client who had been recently imprisoned. Plus there are plenty of death threats. I don’t take most of them seriously, but I’m not foolhardy. If I need protection, I hire it,” Jessica said. “However, today was at your request, for Beth’s safety.”

  Wyatt looked at Beth, and she said, “Yeah, I’ll have to fill you in…when your brother leaves.”

  “I’m gone.” Wyatt lifted a hand and strode across the room. “Text when you get home later and I’ll come pick you up,” he said to Beth.

  A well-built guard named Leo, dressed in khakis and a dark jacket, escorted Beth and Jessica outside. A driver was visible behind tinted glass. “Two guards?”

  “Sure, you get only the best,” Jessica said, then told the driver where to take them, before raising a privacy panel. “Now that we’re alone, tell me everything.”

  “I hired your brother as my bodyguard.”

  Jessica looked crestfallen. “That explains why he didn’t kiss you goodbye. I really hoped there was something between you. You’ve known Wyatt most of your life, and if you got together it would be so…romantic.”

  “You can get the stars out of your eyes. We are friends, and the current arrangement is strictly business.” Beth spoke with more certainty than she felt. Why did she feel like what she had with Wyatt was more than a work relationship? The stressful situation had jumbled her mind.

  Jessica’s slight smile unnerved her. “All right, I’ll accept that for now. But I can envision Wyatt falling for you.”

  Beth was uncomfortable with that. “For now, you need to envision that he keeps me alive.”

  Jessica widened her eyes. “I saw the news. What was the deal with that woman wearing your jacket? Does it have something to do with why you need protection?”

  “Yes, it does. And so much has happened.” Beth launched into a recounting of recent events. It was a relief to tell Jessica, unburdening as a friend. When she confessed her guilt about Amanda, fear spiked through her. If Beth was unable to stop the threats against her, the same fate awaited her. The harsh reality of it was sobering.

  She told Jessica about the attacks, and shared her thoughts about her journal being stolen. “There’s something to that. I’d been digging around without any focused purpose. I used the material for cartoon ideas, and just researched out of interest.”

  “Whoever is doing this doesn’t see it that way,” Jessica said. “You pose a significant threat. There must be something you’re missing, something that is worth killing over.”

  “I wish I knew what it was.” Beth rubbed her temple. “The ways both our families have run companies, the questionable tactics were no secret. Hell, that’s part of why Wyatt left, why he wanted no part of running Mercer. I’m not sure what I found out that has made me a target.”

  “You need to think, because something has.”

  “I have thought, but my journal was pages and pages of all kinds of stuff.” Beth told her some of what she’d written about, and talked about doing some cartooning for the paper Amanda had worked for, then digressed into ragging on her uncle.

  “I haven’t gotten along with Martin either,” Jessica said. “He’s an arrogant ass.”

  “I’m used to that. I just wish he hadn’t decided to step in when my father got ill. Kyle could have handled things without him nosing about,” Beth said. “Some uncle…he is out to get me…I swear he is.”

  “He accused you of actions that I know you aren’t capable of,” Jessica said. “The whole situation is unbelievable,” Jessica said, “not to mention scary.”

  “Very scary. You just get death threats; I’ve had actual attempts on my life,” Beth said. “Without your brother looking out for me…”

  “I dread to think. Will Kyle talk to you…tell you what you need to know?”

  “It depends; I’m not certain how he’s involved or what he knows. But whatever information he has, I intend to pry it out of him.”

  The car had reached Fifth Avenue and had been cruising, waiting for instructions. Jessica hit the button and spoke into the intercom. “Let us out in front of Bergdorf Goodman.” The driver navigated through the congestion, and when near the store, Leo hopped out and opened the back door. “He’ll handle the car. I’ll stick with you,” he said.

  Jessica and Beth entered the store, bodyguard in tow. “What do you wear to a movie star’s wedding?”

  “Nothing you have,” Jessica said. “Black makes the wrong statement. It’s supposed to be a joyous occasion.”

  “I’m not the bride.”

  “You don’t have to be. But you asked me to help you find a dress, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “It just can’t be anything too…”

  “Conservative?” Jessica smiled. “I’m aware. Have faith. We’ll check out designer dresses. I’m sure there’s some trendy stuff, and the clerks are fashion experts.”

 
Beth followed, counting on her friend to make her look good. “I don’t want to feel like I’m wearing someone else’s clothes. I’ll be self-conscious enough as it is.”

  “You worry too much.” Jessica was at home with fashion. Beth normally was too, except that her idea of fashion included lots of leather, lace, and metal. A new look was in order.

  Jessica enthusiastically embraced the task of finding the right dress. After trying on half a dozen garments, she gave up. A variety of other stores along Fifth provided no better options, so Jessica dragged Beth over to Broadway. “There’s a bunch of small boutiques. That’s what we need.”

  Beth was exhausted. Who’d think that trying on clothes could be such work? Jessica scrutinized each selection. “You’re petite, so we don’t want too much material; you’ll be lost in it.” Another choice disappointed her too. “It’s too…pastel. You have such good skin. That color washes you out.”

  The afternoon sped by, and Beth was inclined to go with black after all. She was comfortable with it, and it matched her hair. “Absolutely not,” Jessica said. “You’re not giving up. I won’t let you. The perfect dress awaits…I just know it.”

  And she was right. At a small boutique, Beth’s hopes rose. The clothing was edgier, but not too dark or punkish. The dresses were more fitted, tailored for a smaller figure. This just might work.

  The clerk looked Beth over with a critical eye. “You have flawless skin, and with those dark eyes and black hair…I have a couple of suggestions.”

  On the first try, Jessica approved a sheath dress that fit Beth’s delicate curves. The material was soft and flowed with her when she walked. The satin material was covered with lace, and the bodice had a modest line. Beth didn’t have the cleavage to show off a low-cut design.

  The satin was deep crimson, and curved over her bosom. The see-through lace extended up to her collarbone and the cap sleeves were made of the same lace. The look was classy, sensual, yet different. It suited Beth.

  At the car, the bodyguard let them in the back, then slipped into the front seat. The driver glanced back. “Where would you like to go?”

  “I could use a drink,” Jessica said. “You wore me out.”

  Beth laughed. “It’s the other way around. You wore me out. I’d have quit while we were still on Fifth.”

  Jessica said to the driver, “Take us to PDT.” That was Please Don’t Tell, a cocktail lounge they frequented in East Village. The place had delicious drinks and specialty hot dogs.

  The entrance was through a phone booth, with a red telephone. A note said the phone was the doorbell: Dial one and someone will be right with you. The door buzzed open then Beth and Jessica went inside with the bodyguard close by. The brick interior was pleasantly dark.

  A waiter provided a table then handed over menus. Beth chose a Scandinavian-style hot dog, complete with pickles, coriander kraut, and mustard greens. She paired it with a Manhattan, a drink the restaurant had on tap. Jessica ordered the same. The drinks were promptly served.

  While waiting for the food, Beth sipped her drink. “Ah, this hits the spot.” On an empty stomach, she felt the buzz quickly. “So, is it serious between you and Michael?”

  Jessica shrugged. “It’s hard to say. He’s a great guy and all, but serious…that’s a big commitment. I’d like to marry, but I’m not sure if hooking up with another attorney is smart. It’s a high-stress field.”

  “You can’t pick who you fall in love with.”

  “Speaking from experience?”

  “Nope, I’ve just watched lots of movies.” Beth wondered if love would catch her off guard.

  “You mentioned your cartooning. Has Wyatt seen your stuff?”

  “He flipped through one of my sketchbooks.”

  “What does he think? He must have noticed how talented you are.”

  Beth wrinkled her nose. “Wyatt is a nag. He says the work is good, and that I should do something with it, make something of my life—as if it’s any of his business.”

  “He has a point; you are good.”

  “Maybe, but I sketch because I want to.”

  Jessica didn’t belabor the point. “My brother seems intrigued by you.”

  “I’m not sure how intriguing it is to rescue me from being killed…repeatedly.”

  The food arrived, and Jessica moved her plate closer. “I meant how he looks at you. It’s different than how he used to look at you.”

  “I don’t think he looks at me any differently, except our bickering has toned down a bit.”

  “Yes, you and Wyatt did get into it, didn’t you?” Jessica took a bite of her hot dog.

  A flash of honesty overcame Beth. “I do kind of like him, though. He changed when he went away…matured. Those shoulders…”

  Jessica laughed. “See, I knew it; you and Wyatt could be an item.”

  “If I live through this, and if we’re still on speaking terms when it’s over…Wyatt will go back to LA.”

  “And you?”

  Beth shrugged. “I’m a New Yorker.” She bit into her hot dog. The place sure had good food.

  *****

  When Beth got back in the car, she noticed that she’d missed a text. It was from Thomas Stapleton, an update on the inheritance dispute. The case was stalled because of her father’s illness. Even with a power of attorney, it wasn’t simple to change a will. Uncle Martin had reached an impasse.

  “Anything important?” Jessica said.

  “On top of everything else, my uncle wants my money. He’s brought a legal action to change the will and write me out.”

  “That won’t be easy.”

  “So it appears, but he won’t give it up. I suspect he hopes to gain the money, and not allow it all to go to Kyle.” Beth frowned. “He’s become a sponge for money.”

  “He’s had those tendencies for a while, so I’m not surprised. Sounds like it’s worse than it used to be.”

  Beth sighed. “This whole inheritance issue is depressing. It’s morbid to fight over who gets my father’s money.” She paused. “I love my father so much. My wish is for him to get well and live many more years. I’d trade all the money just to have him around.”

  Jessica didn’t say anything, but Beth was sure she understood.

  Later, back at Jessica’s place, Beth went over to the window and gazed at the river. Talking everything over had provided new clarity, and one thing stuck in her mind.

  “I’m glad you told me what’s going on,” Jessica said. “You shouldn’t be alone in all of this. You have to let me know if I can help.”

  Beth sat down and crossed her legs. “You know…you just might be able to.”

  “Let’s hear it, then.”

  “You work with criminals, so you must conduct investigations.”

  “Sure, we have a team that handles that,” Jessica said. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Cooper, the computer tech at Stealth, spoke with Wyatt. He specifically mentioned my uncle’s gambling addiction. I’d thought he’d given that up, but I’m pretty sure he hasn’t. And if he’s racked up debts…that might explain a few things.”

  “Sounds like Stealth is already working that angle.”

  “Yes, but I have an idea,” Beth said. “I’m trying to make the connection between mounting debts and killers coming after me.”

  “Hmm, I see your point. He might have hooked up with some pretty shady guys,” Jessica said. “I know that crowd well. A multitude of crimes come out of the world of gambling and to the underworld connected with it.” She furrowed her brow. “Especially gangsters who prey on losers.”

  “Gangsters who wouldn’t think twice about bumping off a young heiress?”

  “Exactly, and one of the most notorious gangs happens to be the Triad.”

  “The Asian mob?”

  “A ruthless bunch, if there ever was one. I’ll have my team lean on some connections, and see what can be learned. Word gets around when big money is involved.”

  “But you hav
e to be discreet.” Beth was playing with fire. “I’m already in someone’s sights, because of what it’s assumed that I know. If rumors surface that I have someone probing for information connected with the mob, the situation will be deadly.”

  “It already is,” Jessica said. “Some very bad people might be after you. I’m afraid for you.”

  Beth shuddered. It was very possible that her uncle had fallen in with the wrong crowd. “You have to help me,” she said. “I need to know what’s really behind all of this.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Jessica said. “I promise.”

  Chapter 11

  The wedding was twelve floors up on the Tribeca rooftop, with amazing views. The bride and groom had chosen the New York City skyline as the backdrop for the ceremony. Rows of chairs were set up on both sides of a white carpet overlaid onto the tile terrace. Vases of white roses lined the aisle, and at the far end was an arch-shaped trellis covered with flowers woven through green vines.

  Beth wore the crimson dress, and had done her hair in a softer style. The shaved part had grown out some, so had a wispy look, and her longer hair had settled into gentle waves. She’d toned down the dark black around her eyes, and had chosen a deep red lip gloss. Along the rim of her ear, she wore a row of diamond studs that she reserved for special occasions.

  Wyatt stood next to her by the wall, looking out at the view. Beth pointed out the Empire State Building as if she was a tourist, and marveled over the Hudson River below. “From up here, it feels like we’re on top of the world. What an ideal venue for a wedding. It’s like being up in the sky among the clouds, with the high-rises close enough to touch.”

  Beth looked at Wyatt, taken with his good looks; he could steal a woman’s heart. He was cleanly shaved, except for the neatly trimmed mustache. The dark suit was tailored to his athletic form with not an inch to spare. The jacket was open, and she glanced at his solid chest filling out the starched white shirt, her fingers itching to feel the rock-hard muscle underneath.

  Wyatt’s dark eyes gleamed, and he fingered the lace of her dress. “You look beautiful.”