Dressed to Kill (COBRA Securities Book 22)

by Velvet Vaughn

  “Step back and get over there,” he ordered. Her eyes widened at the shiny black gun. Ron had taken out the shooter after Layla’s concert, so he knew how to use the weapon.

  Despite every cell in her body wanting to go to Gage, she backed slowly away.

  How could Ron be responsible for sabotaging the show? She’d just met him before the trip to the island. “You’re to blame for everything that’s happened?”

  “No, that would be me.”

  Brooklyn turned and gasped when she saw Beatriz Pace smiling evilly at her. She wore the dress Brooklyn planned on wearing when she took her bows. She was also holding a gun.

  “Ron’s my boyfriend, and he’s helping me.”

  They stood between her and the door, so there was no way she was getting past them.

  “You have more lives than a damn cat,” Beatriz grumbled.

  Brooklyn couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that the amiable woman who’d dressed her for runway shows and had become an essential member of her team was behind the sabotage. “Why are you doing this, Beatriz?”

  “You don’t even know who I am, do you?”

  Was that a trick question? “You’re Beatriz Pace.”

  “Look harder.”

  She narrowed her gaze and searched her brain, but she couldn’t remember meeting her before that Sylvan Roget show when she’d been assigned as Brooklyn’s backstage assistant.

  “Does the name David Pacella ring any bells?”

  “David? Of course.”

  “Do you remember his sister?”

  “Yes. Her name was Debbie.”

  Beatriz held out her arms.

  “You’re Debbie?” She shook her head in denial. Debbie had been at least a hundred pounds heavier with shaggy, dark-brown hair and chunky black glasses. She’d been shy and introverted, barely looking up or speaking to Brooklyn when she’d visited the shop.

  The woman standing in front of her was thin with a short, light-brown bob and no glasses. She would never have realized they were the same person. “Why are you using a different name?”

  “Beatriz was my grandmother’s name, and our original last name was Pace. David changed it to sound more mysterious.” She rolled her eyes. “Just like he changed the pronunciation of his first name.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything sooner about your identity?”

  “Because you killed David.”

  Brooklyn jerked back. “Beatriz, he overdosed. He killed himself.”

  “It was because of you,” she shouted. “Once you dropped him, sales plummeted. The business crashed and burned.”

  “Do you know why I ended the contract? Because David was constantly high and becoming increasingly more erratic. I couldn’t trust him. If you’ll recall, I tried to get him into rehab on more than one occasion.”

  “You could’ve kept wearing the clothes. He would’ve come around, eventually.”

  “Debbie, he was reckless and irresponsible. Do you remember the night he took a swing at Jax? I didn’t want my name associated with him any longer.”

  “He didn’t design any of the clothes,” she screeched. “I did! He was the face of the company, but I was the brains. All those creations were mine. Mine! I sewed my fingers off to create them.”

  Brooklyn was stunned. David always claimed they were his sketches. When he contacted her and asked if she would look at his designs, she’d agreed. His portfolio was good, and he was charismatic and likable. He had potential. She signed on to model his clothes, and for a while, it had gone exceptionally well. His business skyrocketed. But with success came excess. Catching him when he wasn’t altered became impossible. She had no choice but to opt out of the contract. She had no idea the talent behind the designs had been his sister.

  “Why didn’t you go out on your own?” Brooklyn asked.

  “Don’t you think I tried? No one wanted to have anything to do with me. My brother was a coke head who ruined his company and life.”

  “Why didn’t you come to me? I would’ve helped you.”

  “Don’t you listen?” She tapped her ear in emphasis. “You’re the last person I’d come to for help. David died because of you.”

  Beatriz was unhinged. There was nothing she could say to convince the woman she wasn’t responsible. “Why are you doing this now? You’ve been around me for the last couple of years. You’ve had plenty of opportunities to confront me.” The answer came to Brooklyn before Beatriz could answer. It was because she was launching her clothing line.

  “I tolerated you when I worked with you backstage at fashion shows. I tried to forget my hatred, and sometimes it was easy because you were so nice to me. But I had to bust my ass working for people who didn’t have a fraction of my ability. Do you know how infuriating that is? I have more talent in my pinky than most designers have in their entire bodies, and that includes you.” Beatriz took a menacing step closer, but Brooklyn refused to step back.

  “When you announced you were launching your line, I lost it. I tried to kill you in Italy.”

  Brooklyn’s mouth dropped open in horror. Beatriz/Debbie was the one who poisoned Night Glory. Her next words confirmed it.

  “Imagine my surprise when that bitch Renee stole the gown. Then the police had the audacity to question me. I couldn’t have them digging too deep, so framing sweet, shy Coleta Morales for the crime was easy.”

  She made it sound like it was no big deal to end two innocent lives.

  “When that plan failed, I wanted to destroy you and your dreams since you ruined mine, but you kept coming out on top. Then it was practically impossible to do anything on the island with those behemoths around all week.” She cackled evilly. “I love that so many of my attempts you brushed off as accidents.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The fire at the bungalow wasn’t lightning. And you know the shots you thought were meant for Maurice Massie?” She pointed to Ron. “You were the target.”

  Ron winced. “My aim was off. I hadn’t picked up a sniper rifle since the military.”

  Brooklyn couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You killed innocent people.”

  He shrugged like it was no big deal.

  “How did you know we would be there?”

  “I set up alerts on my phone for whenever your name hit the media. You were photographed going inside the restaurant. Ron had to scramble to get there in time and find a place to set up.”

  Brooklyn narrowed her eyes at him. “You were responsible for the shooting and boat explosion last Friday?”

  Beatriz/Debbie smiled wickedly. “No, Ron didn’t do that one. I called up one of David’s drug dealer contacts. David did a ton of business with him. He was more than willing to help David’s little sister.”

  “A man died.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t kill him.”

  But she did. “The drug dealer was the one who shot at the beach?”

  “I needed to get rid of him because he knew too much. I told him to aim for the sand and not the people, then Ron took him out.”

  Brooklyn felt like she’d fallen down the rabbit hole. This couldn’t be happening.

  “You thought Jessie Park’s death was an unfortunate event, but that one was me, too.”

  Brooklyn’s jaw dropped, and her stomach cramped. “Why would you kill her? She was completely innocent.”

  “To disrupt your stupid show. The girl might’ve been stick skinny, but she was a glutton. It was easy to slip her a candy bar laced with poison. I hoped her death might get the show canceled. It was easy to sneak onto the bus after they took her out and grab the wrapper of the tainted chocolate bar.”

  All the things they thought were random hadn’t been at all. “Did you plant the bomb at the Fresh Face gala?”

  “As much as I’d love to take credit, that one wasn’t mine.”

  “Did you have something to do with Shoshana Emery and Linc Chadha’s deaths?”

  “I needed Shoshana out of the way so I coul
d take over. I knew you’d pick me since I kissed your ass as much as possible. Linc was too easy. He was so trusting. Again, I hoped his death would delay production, but you blew it off like it was no big deal.”

  She’d done no such thing. His death affected her deeply. Shoshana’s too. A thought struck. “Did you have anything to do with Dominique Fisk’s death?”

  “The chick doing the documentary? Hell, yes. She figured out who I was. I had to silence her.”

  “If you hated me so much, why did you involve so many innocent people?”

  “I wanted you to suffer as I have.” She glanced down. “Do you like my dress?”

  “Of course. I designed it.”

  “You realize what I am, don’t you? I’m dressed to kill.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Kaiya watched the room swell with people, recognizing some prominent designers and celebrities among the crowd. It looked like every seat in the house would be filled.

  “All clear so far,” she said into the comm.

  “Same here,” Ryan answered.

  Gage didn’t respond. Maybe he couldn’t hear them. The noise level backstage had been deafening, where shouted orders warred with the heavy beat of the music. “Gage?” No response. She met Ryan’s gaze across the room and tried again. “Gage, can you hear me?” Nothing.

  Kaiya headed backstage and came to an abrupt stop. The place was in complete chaos. People were running around in a panic. She didn’t see Gage or Brooklyn, but she spotted Stella on her phone and hurried to her. Stella disconnected when she saw Kaiya. “We can’t find Brooklyn anywhere.”

  “Have you seen Gage?”

  “No, he’s missing, too.”

  Ryan met her and pulled up the tracker on Gage’s watch. She trailed after him as he followed the signal. He reached into a trash can and came up with Gage’s watch, phone, and comm unit.

  They looked at each other in alarm.

  #

  Gage silently willed Brooklyn to keep Beatriz talking. He’d been dismayed to realize his comm device and watch had been removed. He had no way to contact Kaiya and Ryan for backup. When he didn’t check in, they’d come looking for him. Until then, he needed to diffuse the situation.

  He couldn’t believe Beatriz Pace and Ron Hemmings admitted to the attempts on Brooklyn’s life. He didn’t have either on his radar.

  Gage had been right to question how so many random acts happened around them. They hadn’t been random at all. They’d all been planned. Thankfully, they all failed to harm Brooklyn. This attempt would, too, if it were the last thing Gage did. He’d protect Brooklyn or die trying.

  The ties Ron bound his hands with were tight, but he worked his wrists to loosen them. They thought he was unconscious. He’d use it to his advantage.

  #

  Brooklyn shuddered at Beatriz’s words, spoken so coldly. Dressed to kill. In one of Brooklyn’s haute couture gowns, no less. Beatriz was certifiably insane.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Gage had woken up and was surreptitiously working on the bonds. She had to keep Beatriz talking and her gaze away from him.

  “I suppose you were the reason Hazel’s strap broke and Genie’s heel snapped off?”

  Beatriz’s smile was a broad slash of white. “I was, yes. Wasn’t it genius of me to offer to fall on my sword and take the blame? I knew you wouldn’t let me.”

  “The snake, too?”

  She shuddered. “I hate the slimy creatures. That was all Ron. Enough talking. Before I kill you, I thought you should know that you won’t die alone tonight. Every model here will join you.”

  Brooklyn went stone still, and dread slithered down her spine as if the snake had taken over her body. “What do you mean?”

  “I poisoned every one of your dresses, just like Night Glory. Your debut runway show will be epic.”

  Brooklyn’s stomach clenched, and she gagged. All the women would die like Renee Stickler.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Brooklyn glanced nervously at Rob as he paced back and forth. He looked like a loose cannon as he muttered under his breath and scratched his head. She gasped in horror when he turned and aimed his gun at Gage, and she screamed when the bullet impacted his body. She couldn’t pull in enough air, and her vision swam.

  “Stay where you are,” Beatriz ordered, her gun aimed at Brooklyn’s head.

  She hadn’t even realized she’d reached for him. “Why did you shoot him?”

  “Because I wanted to,” Ron said. “He could identify me.”

  She could, too. Brooklyn shot a glance at Olathe, who looked horrified. If Ron shot Gage because he could identify him, what would he do to her and Olathe? She needed to stay strong and get them out of this mess. It was her fault Olathe was even involved.

  “Go make sure he’s dead.” Beatriz shoved Ron.

  “Honey, I shot him in the heart. Of course, he’s dead.”

  Brooklyn’s lungs heaved at his words. She couldn’t imagine a world without Gage in it. Even when he left, she’d know that he was out there saving people and living. If he died, she might as well, too.

  Beatriz shoved Ron again. “Check him. He isn’t even bleeding.”

  Ron rolled his eyes and stomped over. When he was within two feet, Gage suddenly shot up, broke the binds on his hands with a jerk, and plowed into Ron. Ron shrieked, and his gun went flying.

  “Stop,” Beatriz screeched. “Don’t hurt him. Leave him alone!”

  It wasn’t much of a fight as Gage made quick work of besting Ron and then bashing his head into the concrete floor with a sickening thud. He went limp as a rag doll.

  “Oh, my God. What did you do?” When Gage jumped to his feet and took a step forward, she lifted the gun. “I’ll shoot her,” Beatriz threatened. Then her eyes narrowed. “Why aren’t you bleeding?”

  #

  Gage held up his hands as he steadily moved closer. Beatriz probably didn’t realize she took an involuntary step back. He’d rush her and chance another bullet, but she kept her finger on the trigger and the gun trained on Brooklyn instead of him. An infinitesimal amount of pressure would be all it would take. Sweat broke out along his forehead. He needed to force her to move the gun to him.

  “Why aren’t you bleeding?” she repeated.

  He might not be leaking blood, but when the bullet slammed into him, the air left his lungs in a rush, and he was pretty sure he’d cracked another rib. “I have thick skin.”

  She shook her head. “No. Ron shot you point-blank. I saw it. Pull up your shirt.”

  “No.”

  She swung the gun at him. “I said pull it up.” Then she aimed at Olathe. “Or I’ll kill her now.”

  “Okay, okay, lower your weapon.” He lifted his shirt to reveal the kevlar vest.

  “Is that bulletproof?”

  He wanted to bite out a sarcastic retort, but the pistol was still trained on Olathe. “Yep.”

  “Take it off and toss it to me.”

  “No, Gage, don’t,” Brooklyn pleaded. “Keep it on.”

  He wanted to, seeing as how it’d saved his life again, but as long as Olathe and Brooklyn were in the line of fire, he had no choice. He removed it, intending on chucking it and then charging her, but she thwarted his plans.

  “Put it on the ground and push it with your foot,” she instructed.

  He did as she demanded. She picked it up with one hand. “Look at that. The bullet is there.” She awkwardly lifted it over her head and slid it on. It was too big for her. “This will keep me safe,” she murmured to herself. He hated to tell her, but if he had a gun, he’d aim for her brainpan. The vest would be useless then.

  While she was adjusting the fit, he drifted closer to Brooklyn. “Get behind me,” he ordered. Gage was relieved she followed his direction. He made sure they were away from Olathe in case Beatriz decided to shoot.

  She glanced up, and her expression turned thunderous. “Hey, move. I can’t see Brooklyn.”

  That was the point.<
br />
  “You might as well step aside. She’s going to die today, one way or another. She will pay for killing my brother.”

  “Gage, look out!”

  He turned at Brooklyn’s shout to see Ron launch off the ground, his face a bloody mess. He lunged for Brooklyn with a wicked-looking knife that gleamed in the overhead light. Gage blocked him and felt a searing pain tear along his side. With a powerful thrust of his fist, he slammed it into Ron’s Adam’s apple, crushing his windpipe. The man fell to the ground, gurgling as he clutched his throat and gasped for air. A gunshot went off. He felt another searing pain in his arm, dangerously close to where the other bullet left a groove.

  The door burst open and slammed against the wall. Beatriz spun around with a gasp and fired. So did Ryan and Kaiya. Their shots simultaneously nailed her in the head. She was dead before she hit the ground.

  Gage’s vision swam from blood loss, so when Ron made one last gasp and swept Gage’s legs out from under him, he wasn’t able to break his fall enough to keep his head from slamming against the ground.

  #

  As soon as Kaiya and Ryan shot Ron, Brooklyn dropped to the ground beside Gage. She tried to roll him over, but he was heavy. Both sides of his shirt were soaked with blood. She didn’t know if it was Ron’s blood, Gage’s, or both.

  His coworkers crouched down beside her. Kaiya checked his pulse while Ryan ripped off his shirt and shoved it against the gash on Gage’s side.

  “Weak, but steady.” Kaiya jumped to her feet. “The ambulance is on the way. I’ll lead them here.”

  “Are you hurt?” Ryan asked.

  She shook her head. “Gage took everything meant for me.” Another bullet and a knife to the side, not to mention two hits to his head. That couldn’t be good so close together.

  Olathe made a sound, and Brooklyn jumped up to rush to the woman. She’d forgotten about her with Gage’s injury. She removed the gag from around her mouth. “Are you hurt?”

  “No, but is he going to be okay?” She was staring at Gage with a worried look. At least she was focusing on him and not the two dead bodies littering the ground. Brooklyn tried to feel sympathy for Beatriz and Ron, but she couldn’t muster any. She’d considered Beatriz a friend, and Beatriz had betrayed her.