Front Page Affair

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Front Page Affair Page 10

by Jennifer Morey


  “Not if someone starts shooting at us. Then we have two too many.”

  She cocked her head. “I want to help you find your sister. And I can shoot a gun just as good as anybody in that house down there.”

  There was no arguing with her. “I can do this alone.”

  She angled her head, not as cocky as before. “Can you?”

  He headed for the door. He wasn’t experienced at this and neither was she. But they could both shoot a gun. Tatum could be in that villa, being held against her will by a predator. And predators, Braden would not tolerate. If they found Tatum, he’d make sure both women made it out okay.

  Outside, he heard Arizona’s booted feet crunching over the stony ground. Why he found that adorable, he’d never know. Maybe it was her small feet. Maybe it was the graceful way she moved. Maybe it was everything about her.

  He led her into the trees with only stars to light their way. The terrain grew steep.

  “Why are you so good with guns?” she asked from behind him.

  “I wouldn’t say ‘good.’ I target practice, that’s all.”

  She contemplated that a few steps down the slope. “I can see why you’d be into weapons. You design them. But you seem too...I don’t know...ready to use them.”

  He held a branch aside for her. “We’re getting close. Be quiet.”

  Pausing under the branch he held, she looked up at him, too perceptive. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

  How could she tell that? “Would you like someone to hear us?”

  “We aren’t that close.” Her astute scrutiny didn’t abate. “Did something happen to you?”

  Why did she think something had to have happened to him to make him learn how to shoot guns? Lots of people owned guns and shot them. Had she seen something in him? As he looked into her blue eyes that searched and searched the depths of his, he began to think so.

  “Yes, my sister disappeared,” he snapped. “Am I supposed to stand by and do nothing?” He let the branch drop, forcing her to step out of the way. He resumed his trek toward Julian’s villa.

  “Something did,” she said.

  Irritation simmered as he reached a clearing and the back of Julian’s villa came into view. The place was well lit by exterior lighting, Braden spotted several cameras mounted to the villa itself. He stuck out his arm when Arizona would have stepped forward. He pointed and she saw the cameras.

  He scanned the surroundings. A grouping of trees would provide concealment and get them closer to the villa. There was no fence around the perimeter so that would help.

  The villa sat at an angle to them. He could see the west side and the back, which faced southwest. Large windows on the ground level showed promise of revealing something. There was no movement outside.

  “How are we going to get in?” Arizona asked. “He’s probably got alarms.”

  “There’s a servant’s door in the back.”

  “Really?” She leaned to see around him. “How do you know?”

  “I saw someone use it from the other house.” She hadn’t been looking through her binoculars then. Braden had looked through them all afternoon. It was either that or look at her.

  He suffered more of her scrutiny.

  “You’re really good at this. A natural.”

  Ignoring her leading tone, he guided her toward the door. Following the trees, Braden stopped, making Arizona do the same. He watched the cameras move.

  “Now,” Arizona said when the camera closest to them turned away.

  He ran with her to the building, flattening his back and looking up. The cameras didn’t have a view this close to the building. Another camera did, this one remained stationary. Braden took out his pistol, fitted with a silencer, and shot the camera. Now they’d be able to enter without being seen.

  With any luck, Julian’s thugs wouldn’t notice for a while. And with more luck, there were no motion detectors in place.

  Peering into one of the ground-level windows, he saw nothing unusual inside. Just a large family room. Moving along the building, he approached the servant’s door. Just then, the door opened and a servant appeared, taking a trash bag out to a Dumpster in an enclosed area.

  He and Arizona froze as he made his way back. The servant didn’t see them. Arizona breathed out a heavy sigh.

  Braden continued toward the door. Testing the knob, he found it unlocked. As he opened the door just a little, he saw a large commercial-grade kitchen. A chef worked before a countertop, cutting potatoes. He was alone.

  When he turned and went into a large refrigerator, Braden led Arizona inside.

  Down a hall, they emerged into a sitting room. No one was there. It was silent. Two bookshelves took up each side of the far wall, and a painting of a sailboat hung between, hip-high white paneling connecting them. A white sectional was positioned in the middle, tables and plants scattered around, and to his and Arizona’s left was an entertainment center, closed for now.

  Arizona followed him to the stairs on the other side of the wall where the entertainment center was. Slowly and quietly they climbed. No sounds came from the main level. Rounding the wall, Braden stepped into a wildly colored living room. Black, red, white, blue and yellow blinded the eye. Across from them, a partial wall divided a grand dining area into two entries. Adjacent to the living room was the open, octagonal entry with open railings exposing the upper level.

  They approached a hallway.

  Sounds from a room made him stop. Voices from behind made him look for cover. Arizona took his hand and pulled him into a bedroom.

  “I told you to make sure the villa was ready for my father’s visit,” a voice said. Julian’s.

  “We have, sir.” The other man must be a servant.

  “Then why isn’t the Land Rover ready? It’s a mess and you haven’t repaired the air conditioner.”

  “Horace is taking care of it right now.”

  “Right now, in the middle of the night?”

  The servant’s answer was muffled. The two were moving away from the hallway.

  Braden went out into the hall, his hand still clasped with Arizona’s.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she whispered.

  He moved down the hall anyway...Tatum.

  The sound of a television grew louder. Arizona’s hand gripped his tighter. She was scared.

  He debated leaving. But what about Tatum? If she were here...

  At the room where the television played, he peered in quickly. No one was there. Had Julian been there before his servant interrupted him with news of the Land Rover? He was sure uptight about his father coming for a visit.

  There were two more rooms down this hall and a bathroom, and no sign of Tatum. Braden checked closets and armoires. Nothing. Not even toiletries.

  He led Arizona back into the hall. At the top of the stairs, Julian’s shouting vibrated.

  “I want everything perfect, do you understand? Not a thing out of place!”

  A barely audible “Yes, sir,” answered.

  Just then, a man appeared behind them. Braden hauled Arizona out of harm’s way. Before he could turn to defend them both, the man slammed a gun down on his head. Everything went black.

  * * *

  “Braden!” Arizona started to kneel beside his fallen body when the man who’d knocked him unconscious grabbed her from behind.

  Steel biceps held her arms to her side and back against a big frame. Julian appeared at the bottom of the stairs. He stared at her with his dark, eerie eyes, registering who she was and then Braden lying unconscious on the floor.

  Then those cold, evil eyes lifted. His dark hair was thick and messy and his face was leathery for his age.

  “They broke into the villa, sir,” the man holding her said.


  “Take her to a room upstairs.”

  The man steered her toward the hall.

  Arizona fought. She kicked; she writhed. She used every trick she’d ever learned, all to no avail. The man who forced her up the stairs was practiced. At the door of a room, he shoved her inside. She flew, sprawling onto her hands and knees.

  The man jerked at her belt and removed her gun. Then he turned and left the room. By the time she got up and ran to the door, it was locked from the outside.

  In one horrifying moment she wondered if this was what had happened to Tatum. Had Julian’s men forced her into this room and locked her here until whatever fate had been decided for her had been carried out? She spun around, fighting fear as she searched the room. It was a pretty bedroom. Soft, earthy colors on the queen-sized bed, adorned with pillows. Dainty nightstands matched. A two-foot-high stand held a giant television. Swooping drapes were pulled back to show off a spectacular view of the mountain and ocean beyond. She was facing the back and could see the house where she and Braden had been all afternoon.

  What would happen next?

  She didn’t have to wait long. The door opened and Julian walked in, two of his armed guards behind him.

  Arizona stood her ground. Showing fear would only feed his perversion. She’d wait for the right opportunity and then she’d strike.

  “Why is it that I keep receiving unannounced visits from you?” Julian asked.

  His bloodshot eyes were small and beady. His seedy, pocked face clashed with his impeccably pressed white shirt. So did his messy, dark brown hair.

  “We’re trying to find Tatum McCrae.”

  He swung his arms open, the innocence not working in his favor. Or was he mocking her? “I’ve told you before. I don’t know anyone by that name.”

  “She took a cab here.”

  “Did she now? Well, then perhaps it wasn’t me she came to see. I have lots of staff.”

  “Let us search the villa.”

  Julian stepped closer still, until she could smell his decaying teeth. She drew her head back.

  “You broke into my home to do just that,” he said. “You are not welcome here.”

  He exuded a dark confidence that was bolstered by the presence of the two guards, big and dumb, only there to do Julian’s bidding.

  “Where is Tatum?” And Braden.

  Straightening, he ignored her question, clasping his hands behind his back. “When I phone the police, they will believe me when I tell them a man and a woman broke into my home and threatened me.”

  She didn’t respond. They had broken in.

  “Perhaps my message wasn’t clear before.”

  “You mean when you had us chased off your property by armed men?”

  “Perhaps you require a stronger message.”

  “Why do you need armed guards?”

  Instead of answering, he nodded to his guards. The two strode farther into the room, approaching her. Julian left the room, closing the door behind him. She didn’t hear it lock.

  What were these two going to do?

  A stronger message...

  Arizona backed away, glancing around for some kind of a weapon. One of the men held back while the other advanced; he was balding, wearing a tight black T-shirt and black jeans with big, bulky boots. His pistol was hanging at his side.

  She’d had enough self-defense classes to help her, but she had to be careful.

  Just then he did something unexpected. He put his gun on the dresser to his right and smiled, his cold eyes never changing. He didn’t think he needed a weapon with her. Behind him, the other man still held his.

  She didn’t think either one of them would kill her. Julian meant for them to deliver a stronger message. What would that entail? Rape?

  As he neared, Arizona bided her time, then at the right moment, she ducked and rolled him over her shoulder. The element of surprise worked. She lunged out of his reach and faced the second man. He had long scraggly black hair and gray eyes. Creepy eyes. No empathy.

  He aimed the gun at her head. She still wore the flak jacket. He didn’t fire. He moved with her, facing her off. She allowed him to get close. When he raised his gun to knock her head, she blocked his wrist with her forearm. As the gun toppled to the floor, she stabbed his eyes with her fingers. He yelled and stumbled backward. The man on the floor was getting to his feet.

  Arizona ran for the door. Sure enough, it was unlocked. She ran out and slammed it shut behind her, driving a dead bolt home into the doorframe just as the doorknob began to turn. One of the men inside rattled the door.

  Arizona didn’t wait. She ran down the hall.

  At the end, she found an open stairway, narrower than the main one. The servant’s passage. She descended.

  Where was Braden?

  At a landing in the stairs, a woman appeared through the wall. It was a camouflaged door.

  “This way,” she whispered.

  Who was she? Arizona didn’t hesitate or waste time asking. She flew through the door, and the woman shut it. The room she found herself in was small with a kitchenette area. The woman’s living quarters.

  “Thank you,” Arizona said.

  The woman approached, taking her hands in hers, urgently imploring her with her eyes. “You must leave this place and stay away.”

  “Where is Tatum McCrae?” Arizona demanded.

  “I didn’t know.” The woman appeared agitated. “I swear, I didn’t know.”

  “Didn’t know what?”

  The sound of footsteps pounded on the servants’ stairs.

  “Find him!” a man’s voice growled.

  “You must leave. Now.” The woman steered her toward another door. “He is waiting for you outside this door.”

  “Who?”

  The woman opened the door and Braden stood there, hands leaning on the doorframe above his head. When he saw her he visibly sagged with relief, lowering his arms and looking at the woman.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “Do not come back.”

  Braden took her hand and pulled her down the hallway. “How did you get away? Did that maid help you?”

  “Shh!”

  “Did she?”

  “No. Come on!”

  He’d fought his way free and then intersected the maid. His prowess with self-defense was out of the ordinary. But she didn’t have time to think on that now. Neither of them had guns anymore and they had to get out of here.

  Back in the rec room, he pulled her after him, toward the broken window. When they reached it, he pushed her through first and then followed. She raced behind him for the trees. Just as they passed the first few trunks, she heard voices shouting. Braden let go of her hand.

  “Run!”

  She was already running as fast as she could. The slope steepened and it grew taxing to keep up the pace while climbing.

  “I see them!”

  Arizona cursed. She tripped over a rock and tumbled, slamming into the trunk of a tree.

  Braden hauled her back up.

  The first man was on them. Arizona used her feet to kick his chest while Braden blocked a punch from another. The man she fought sailed backward, running right into the second man. There didn’t appear to be more of them.

  Braden grabbed her hand and ran with her through the trees again. Cresting the hill, they ran down the other side. Leaves and branches smacked her and she swatted more out of her way. Then the vegetation cleared. They were now on the earthen stairs. This would take them to the beach. Braden took her hand again as they flew down the stairs, then finally they made it to the sandy beach. She helped him move the dinghy out into the water and then jumped in while he started the small motor.

  Gunfire erupted.

  “Get down!”
Braden shouted.

  But there was no protection in an inflatable dinghy. Braden pushed it full throttle. Bullets shot into the water just out of reach. The yacht was far enough out to escape the gunfire. Leaving the dinghy in the water, they climbed aboard and Braden started the engine.

  Arizona watched more men join the two who’d chased them through the trees on the beach. They stood in a line, weapons at their sides, admitting defeat.

  * * *

  They docked at Soper’s Hole Marina late at night. Braden had taken precautionary measures and had a slip reserved already. A backup plan. He sure was good at this. It only kept her curiosity stirred as to why. There had to be more to it than his employment with a weapons manufacturer. She was especially certain of that after seeing the way he avoided conversation about it.

  Helping him tie the boat, Arizona kept looking out to sea and checking the lit dock. At this hour of the night, very little stirred.

  “Are we safe here?”

  “As safe as we are anywhere.”

  How comforting. Following him into the salon, she put fear aside and gave in to curiosity that wouldn’t leave her alone. “Were you ever in the military?”

  “No.” He peered out the salon doors, searching the dark marina. He had a sharp eye. A practiced eye. Watchdog. Warrior. This man fell prey to no other living creature.

  He turned during her thoughts. She was staring at him. And even when his eyes met hers, she couldn’t stop. The way he made her feel last night still hovered in her heart. Not since Trevor had she felt anything similar. She’d always avoided men who reminded her of what she’d lost. Last night proved why. She’d never experienced that with any other man, the deep desire, the makings of love. The intensity had overwhelmed her, and the result had manifested itself in the form of bad sex.

  “Still reminding you of Trevor?” He moved deeper into the salon, preparing the sofa for sleep. He’d stand guard out here through the night.

  How many times could she apologize? Yet, an apology wasn’t what he wanted. “I should have known to stay away from you.” It wasn’t as though he hadn’t had ample warning. He knew she avoided engineers. “Don’t take it personally.”

  “Me?”

 

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