by Katie Reus
Forcing himself to turn away, he moved back behind the umbrellas, using them as cover. He had on blue and white striped beach shorts, a T-shirt, a ball cap and jeans. Standard gear for the beach. This morning, when he’d intercepted one of her texts to someone named Dominique, she’d told her friend that she was headed out to ‘soak up some rays.’
He wanted to get a full view of her in a bathing suit, but she was too far out in the water. Which was just as well. She couldn’t sneak up on him.
Acting as if he had every right to be digging in her bag, he quickly unzipped it and pilfered through it. Damn it. Other than extra clothes and a towel, he found only her phone, her ID and some cash in a zippered pouch. No keys.
Maybe the guy had her keys or maybe they were in the guy’s vehicle. He couldn’t be sure if she’d driven herself or come with the man.
Feeling as if someone was watching him, he looked up, scanned the surrounding area. A woman in a teal one-piece bathing suit had sunglasses on and was turned around in her beach chair, watching.
Or it looked as if she was watching him. It was impossible to tell with those sunglasses.
Even so, he’d already pushed his luck too much.
Standing unhurriedly, he moved away from the umbrella, bag and towels and headed back the way he’d come. Part of him wanted to stay, to watch, but he couldn’t afford to be noticed.
Especially not after last night. For all he knew the man with her would remember him, would be able to identify him.
Not gonna happen. He’d been careful, had gotten to where he was in life because he was smart. He wouldn’t start getting sloppy now.
Not when he was so close to claiming the prize.
Chapter 8
“This is basically a glorified food and wine festival, isn’t it?” Raegan asked her date, Rhys Martin Maxwell IV. She’d met him in Vegas during her first job with Red Stone—before her first and hopefully last kidnapping. They’d gone on a date and she’d quickly realized she had no attraction to him. He’d been okay with it after she’d told him she didn’t want to go on another date with him.
But he’d wanted to stay friends so here they were, just friends. And he was always fun company.
“Yes. If I’m in town, I never miss it.” He laughed lightly, his British accent faint and oh so proper sounding.
She didn’t blame him, though she wished she was here with Ford—and felt guilty for even thinking that. Looking around the expansive outdoor setup, it was impressive. Twelve celebrity chefs were all manning various stations, cooking and talking to the guests, and gorgeous displays of food, wine and other cocktails were at various tables. Low-key music filtered in from speakers she couldn’t see and there were always servers walking around with trays of drinks even with all the displays available. No one could possibly leave tonight hungry or thirsty.
Next to an owner/head chef of a local beach restaurant who was there for the celebration, a huge piece of driftwood had been hollowed out down the middle, filled with ice and bottles of blue champagne lining the entire thing. She was just glad the event wasn’t formal. Most of the men were in slacks and button-down shirts and the women in cocktail dresses. Even with the misting fans and hidden coolers placed strategically around the space, it was still Florida in the summer. Getting overdressed would have made this miserable.
“Are you taking notes?” Rhys murmured, leaning down just a fraction. His cologne was crisp and masculine.
She turned to look at him, smiling. “Is it that obvious?” She was part of the new event planning department at Red Stone and couldn’t help but be impressed by whoever they’d used for the setup tonight.
He gave her a half smile and briefly touched her bare shoulder. She’d worn a strapless black cocktail dress and heels. “You’re looking sun-kissed.”
“I went to the beach today.” She stepped back just a fraction so that his hand dropped. She’d made it clear she just wanted to be friends and his touch wasn’t unfriendly or creepy, but she just…wished it was Ford touching her. The man had gotten under her skin.
Rhys started to say something when Dominique appeared out of crowd, looking like a tall goddess. She’d left her long blonde hair down and had on a bright yellow dress that should have looked wrong with her hair color, but against her bronze skin and killer curves, she had most men and some women in the near vicinity turning to look at her. Which was pretty much standard for wherever Dominique went.
She smiled brightly when she spotted them, and to give Rhys credit, he didn’t stare. Too hard. Not that Raegan cared if he did. Dominique was a beautiful woman, and Raegan and Rhys were just friends anyway.
“Athena said you were here,” she said, swooping in with a hug and cheek kisses. She was five foot ten, but in her heels she was over six feet tonight and stunning.
“I’m still trying to decide where to start. All this food looks amazing.” She motioned to Rhys, who was almost as tall as her friend. “Dominique, this is Rhys Maxwell.”
After making introductions and brief small talk, Rhys said, “Champagne for you both?”
“Yes, thank you,” Raegan said as Dominique nodded.
“Nice,” her friend murmured once he was out of earshot. Just as quickly her expression morphed to one of concern. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of him in case you hadn’t told him, but…you’re sure you’re okay? I kinda can’t believe you’re here tonight.”
She grasped Dominique’s hand once before dropping it. “Thank you for not saying anything. And I’m fine, I swear. I’ve been fine since this morning. Just…weirded out.” Raegan had already told her all this earlier in the day but she was glad her friend was concerned enough to ask again.
“Okay, well, you look fantastic.”
“So do you. You’re like a beach goddess.”
Dominique just snorted. “So you’re here with a sexy Brit but I heard from a reliable source that you were out this morning with a sexy cop. Spill everything.”
“There’s nothing to tell.” Not yet anyway. “He’s friends with Grant and…I don’t know. We kissed and have a date tomorrow night.” She felt her cheeks heat up even as she thought about the feel of Ford’s lips against hers. For the tenth time tonight she wished she was out with him instead of here.
“That must have been some kiss. So you’re really just friends with this one?” she asked, glancing over in the direction of Rhys, who was talking to a man Raegan had never seen before. Before she could respond, Dominique turned back to her, her jaw set tight. “I hate that man,” she practically snarled, her cheeks flushing red.
The change in Dominique’s composure was jarring. Raegan blinked. “The guy with Rhys?” Dominique simply nodded, as if talking was too much for her. She’d never seen her friend upset before. “Who is he?”
“Viktor Ivanov. He’s a monster.”
Concern punched through her. “Did he hurt you?”
She just snorted. “Please. He’s the owner of the club we were at last night. I didn’t find that out until today or I never would have gone there.”
“Well don’t look now but he’s headed this way with Rhys.”
Dominique’s expression darkened, but she didn’t turn around. “Sorry to do this, but I can’t even be around him. If he was on fire I’d throw accelerant on him. I’ll see you later.” Just like that she was gone, hurrying in the other direction before Rhys and the apparent monster reached them.
The man frowned, his gaze following Dominique. “Who is your friend?” He had a slight Russian accent and was a freaking giant. The guy had to be at least six foot five and looked more like a thug with his shaved head and tattooed knuckles.
Raegan frowned at Rhys as he gave her a glass of champagne. She wasn’t going to tell this stranger anything about her friend. Her date cleared his throat. “Ah, Viktor, this is Raegan. She works for Red Stone Security. I believe you have some acquaintances in common.”
Blinking, the man turned back to look at her, as if seeing her for t
he first time, which obviously wasn’t true since he’d asked her about Dominique.
“It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled politely, held out a hand that was surprisingly gentle when she took it.
“It’s nice to meet you too.” She turned to Rhys. “Will you give me a few minutes?” She didn’t want to tell him in front of this stranger that she was concerned about Dominique so she motioned toward the back where the bathrooms were.
He smiled warmly. “Of course.”
After ten minutes of searching she couldn’t find Dominique anywhere. The event was pretty huge, but her friend stood out so Raegan wondered if she’d left. She’d already seen all three of her cousins, their wives, her uncle and his new fiancée, and Athena and her fiancé so it was a little off that she couldn’t find Dominique. Unless…maybe she really was in one of the bathrooms.
She started to head to one of the closest ones when she saw a flash of yellow through the glass doors to the building connected to the event. The Celebration of Chefs was in an outdoor park-type area with lights and a gauzy canopy strung high in the air above them, creating a fairytale effect. It was nestled in between two buildings: an art center and a convention center. She knew from Athena that the catering company was using the facilities of the latter.
As she opened one of the glass doors a woman wearing black pants and a white button-down shirt—definitely one of the servers—smiled at her as she carried a tray of champagne flutes. “Would you like one?”
“Ah, no, but thanks.” She’d already put down her drink earlier when searching and after last night she was feeling a little strange about drinking anything she hadn’t seen poured. “Are there bathrooms back there?” She pointed in the direction she’d seen Dominique go. Because why else would Dominique be here?
“Yeah. You’re not really supposed to use them, but other guests have been sneaking in. I won’t tell.” She winked conspiratorially before heading outside.
Raegan felt a little bad leaving Rhys, but she was worried about her friend. Dominique was one of the nicest people she’d met since moving to Miami and it was clear that man had upset her, even if he didn’t seem to know who she was.
She passed a handful of caterers and partygoers as she headed across a big lobby. When she turned down the nearest hallway she spotted a woman in a pink and black cocktail dress coming out of the ladies room. She smiled at her before heading inside.
There were eight stalls including the handicapped one. She started at the end, gently pushing the doors open. Compared to outside it was freezing in here. A chill raked over her as she reached the fourth door. As she pushed it open, she heard the creaking of the main door opening right before the room was plunged into blackness.
“Someone’s in here!” she called out. “Damn it.” Blinking, she tried to adjust to the darkness but it was impossible. She took a step toward the door, but stopped as she heard a squeak.
Like a shoe against the tile.
A healthy dose of fear and paranoia slid through her veins. “Hello?”
When no one answered, she moved into the stall and locked the door. Stepping out of her heels, she picked one up to use as a weapon if need be. Maybe she was being paranoid but she didn’t care. Not after last night.
With trembling hands, she pulled her phone from her clutch purse. Her heart hammered against her chest mercilessly as she heard another squeak. Then another.
Someone was definitely in here. And they’d turned the lights off intentionally.
“Think you can hide from me, whore?” a raspy male voice asked. It was like he was trying to hide his identity. Or maybe that was what he normally sounded like, but she didn’t think so.
Pure panic punched through her as she stepped back. Her feet were cold against the floor and there was nowhere to go. She stepped up onto the seat of the toilet to give herself more distance as she covered her screen and dialed Grant. The phone started ringing as her fear skyrocketed.
“I’ve been watching you, know everything about you.” The voice was closer now, somewhere outside the door. “You’re a fucking tease.” The door rattled once.
Oh, God. She held up her heeled shoe, prepared to use it as a weapon. It was the only thing she had. Damn it, she wished she’d thought to bring pepper spray, but her purse was small and she’d planned on being surrounded by people tonight.
Grant picked up on the second ring. “Hey, Raegan.” His voice seemed loud in the enclosed space.
There was no way to hide what she was doing. “I’m trapped in the bathroom of the convention building with a man trying to hurt me! The first hallway off the right. I don’t know if he’s armed.” The words fell out of her like machine gun fire. She wasn’t sure how much time she’d have.
Grant cursed and she heard a crash, then, “I’m coming.”
“You bitch!” The door rattled violently. “This isn’t over,” he snarled before the squeaks of his shoes hurried away.
She heard the door open but she wasn’t sure if he’d truly left, could barely hear anything over the blood rushing in her ears.
Shaking, she stayed where she was, heel and phone in hand. She was aware of Grant saying something to her, but fear gripped her throat tight. She couldn’t talk, couldn’t do anything. And she hated herself for it. It was like fear rooted her in place.
Suddenly the lights were on, blinding her as the door slammed open. “Raegan!”
“I’m here.” Oh God, he’d found her. As if she’d been released by an invisible string, she jumped down from the toilet and yanked the stall door open to find Grant racing toward her, his expression dark and a weapon in his hand.
She dropped her shoe as Porter, Harrison, her uncle and even Mara followed after him—all carrying guns like a civilian SWAT team. And she burst into tears.
* * *
Raegan knew she shouldn’t be embarrassed. It wasn’t as if any of this was her fault. But the level of humiliation she felt that the cops had been called to such a huge event, that all her cousins and their polished wives were witnessing all this, that her own date had been dragged away from the party because of this—it was embarrassing.
She felt like she’d ruined everyone’s night, even if it wasn’t her fault.
Someone had opened up a private room called ‘Banquet Hall Two’ at the center, and it was filled with her relatives, police and some other people she didn’t know.
She sat at a round table drinking hot tea that Lizzy had brought her while Grant was talking to his former partner, Detective Carlito Duarte. Her own date had disappeared to get her a plate of food even though she’d told him not to bother. But it had seemed as if he wanted something to do after she’d subtly tried to brush off his concern. She knew he meant well but she didn’t want him fussing over her. Thankfully Belle had gone with him as well.
And Lizzy was on the phone with her babysitter. Now her cousins and uncle were all huddled together by one of the exit doors, talking quietly, and they kept looking over at her. Even though it was the first time in the last hour that she’d been relatively alone, it made her feel like a bug under a microscope.
As she sat, Mara Caldwell, her cousin Harrison’s wife, slid onto one of the cushioned chairs next to her, moving ghost quiet. Raegan was still a little stunned that Mara had burst in with the others earlier, a gun in her hand. And clearly she’d known how to handle it. She wasn’t sure what Mara had done before moving to Miami but she guessed it was law enforcement.
“So, you look as if you want to run out of here,” Mara said quietly.
She swallowed hard, wrapping her hands around the warm mug. “I’m really grateful everyone’s here and the police responded so quickly.”
Mara lightly squeezed Raegan’s arm. “You still look overwhelmed. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it for you.”
The gesture from the normally hard-to-read woman made tears rush to the surface.
“Oh, hell, don’t cry,” Mara muttered, looking horrified.
Raegan sniffled, fel
t even more pathetic. “I can’t help it,” she muttered. “After last night and now this, I just want to go home and hide out for a week.” Because what the hell was going on? Had she pissed off karma? First someone drugged her and now this?
Mara frowned, squeezed her hand once, before standing. “Sit tight.”
Raegan watched in awe as Mara singlehandedly kicked almost everyone out of the room, including Uncle Keith, until it was just Grant, Detective Duarte and Raegan. Well, and a uniformed officer by the door, but she was pretty sure he was there to keep people out. Mara gave her a thumbs up as she ushered the last person out of the room and left herself.
“Did they find anything on the security cameras?” she asked as the detective and Grant pulled up chairs and sat in front of her.
“There’s nothing set up in this hallway—or most of them. Their security is focused around the exits more than anything. Cheaper for them,” Carlito said, lifting a shoulder. But she saw the annoyance in his expression. He glanced once at Grant before looking back at her. “Have you been having any problems with anyone? A man who can’t take no for an answer, who keeps asking you out? Anything unusual?”
She blinked, surprised by the questions. “No. I mean, yeah, I get asked out by men and sometimes I say no, sometimes yes. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date though. And I’ve never had any weirdos who kept asking once I said no.”
“What about the man you’re here with tonight?”
“Rhys? We’re just friends.”
Grant’s mouth flattened, but he didn’t say anything.
“You’re sure he doesn’t want more?” Carlito continued.
“I…I don’t know but nothing’s ever happened between us. Besides, didn’t you,” she looked at Grant, “say he was outside when I called you for help?”
Almost grudgingly, her cousin nodded. “Yeah.”
“Tell me more about last night.”
“Last night?” More surprise ricocheted through her, but it was hard not to make the connection of why he was asking. “You think the two things are linked?”