by Cassie Miles
“I do.”
Less than an hour ago, her greatest problem was figuring out their relationship. The threat to Emily and to everyone else was so much bigger.
She and Blake had barely gotten into the house and taken off their snow gear when the next crisis hit. She heard John Reuben call out, “Open the door. Get out there and help her.”
Blake dashed through the kitchen to the front, and she followed. They saw both Reuben twins and Alvardo charging through the front door and onto the porch. When they stepped into the snow, it was up to their knees.
“What is it?” she asked Hank.
“A woman,” he said. “She’s trudging through the snow. The poor thing looks like she’s on her last legs.”
John scooped the woman off her feet and carried her through the deep snow onto the porch and then into the house. She was wearing a bright yellow parka and a pink polka-dot backpack. When John placed her on the sofa, she leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment before she leaned forward. “I’m okay,” she said. “Just a little cold.”
Sarah naturally took over, sitting beside her and helping her take off her gloves and remove the backpack. “What are you doing out here?”
“I didn’t think the snow was this bad. My little Subaru has four-wheel drive, and it’s usually great. But I got stuck.” Her lower lip trembled. “I think I’m blocking the road.”
“Where did you leave your car?” Sarah asked.
“Not far from here. I skidded at the last turn leading in here.”
Her abandoned Subaru wouldn’t be a problem for anyone else on the road, but they couldn’t get out without moving the vehicle. Their escape was cut off.
“I’m so sorry,” the woman said. When she unzipped her parka and pushed back the hood, a cascade of platinum-blond curls fell nearly to her waist.
Sarah wanted to pull her hair and tell her that she was an idiot for driving in this weather, but Alvardo was all over this lady. He sat beside her and took her hand. “It’s all right.”
“No,” Sarah said angrily, “it’s not all right. We need to move her car.”
Ignoring Sarah, Alvardo continued to hold the woman’s hand and speak gently. “I tried to reach you and tell you not to come, but all our phones were out.”
“It’s okay,” she said with a whimper.
William Reuben handed her a bottled water. “Drink this.”
“Thanks, sweetie.” She gave them all a smile. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Honey Buxom.”
Just what they needed.... A stripper.
* * *
AT SARAH’S INSISTENCE, the men went out to see if they could move Honey’s vehicle. She noticed that when Blake organized their expedition, he chose Jeremy, of course. Then he took Maddox, Alvardo, Skip, Ramon Martinez and the three-man band. Were those men the most likely suspects? The choice of Ramon surprised her because he hadn’t been at the B and B until a few hours ago, but she didn’t question Blake’s decision.
The group he left behind included the Reuben twins, the general, the senator and all the women. Rebecca had plans for them. “Ladies, come upstairs with me. We’re going to have a spa day. Marisol, you’re welcome to come along.”
“Thank you, ma’am, but I’m sous chef for my papa. He’ll never get the crab cakes right without me.”
Rebecca smiled at the platinum-blonde stripper. “What about you? We’re going to do mani-pedis, facials and hair treatments.”
“Not the hair,” Honey said. “I just got it done. But I could use a manicure.”
Usually, Sarah didn’t have the patience for beauty treatments. Facials made her itch. Manicures didn’t last for more than a day. And she hated sitting still. But a spa day gave her a good reason to stay with Emily, and that was her goal. She meant to stick like superglue to her friend and make sure no one got close enough to threaten her.
Rebecca’s wardrobe bedroom was directly across the hall from the last vacant room that Sarah had assigned to Honey and Marisol because she couldn’t put the two women upstairs in the dormitory with the band and the other two caterers.
As soon as they were in the bedroom, the others stripped down to underwear and bathrobes. Sarah refused. “I need to be dressed in case there’s some kind of emergency.”
“You work so hard on this place,” Rebecca said. “Don’t forget to take time for yourself.”
“From what I hear,” Emily said, “she’s taking the time...for a trip to New Orleans with Blake.”
Gossip traveled at the speed of light. “Nothing has been decided,” Sarah said.
“You’ll go,” Emily said. “Once Blake has his mind set, he doesn’t give up. And he’s set on you.”
“You make it sound like I’m prey, and he’s the hunter.”
“In the game of love,” Emily said with a boisterous grin.
Her level of cheerfulness was off the charts—a byproduct of spending time with Jeremy. And Emily’s joy brightened everyone’s mood. In spite of Sarah’s fears, she found herself laughing with the other women as Rebecca mixed up a batch of green goop and started smearing it onto their faces.
Emily asked the stripper, “Are you new to the area?”
“I’m visiting friends,” she said. “I might open a dance studio in Aspen.”
“I’m sure you’d be successful,” Rebecca said. “I have a friend who takes pole dancing classes. Not only does it keep her in shape, but her husband loves to watch her work out.”
“Mom, please.” Emily rolled her eyes. “I don’t need to hear this from you.”
“You might learn something. I’m a very sensual woman.”
“I’m sure.”
“Really,” Rebecca said, “I’ve lived in San Francisco for twenty-five years, and I have a handsome husband in politics who never looks at another woman. So I must be doing something right.”
“But Honey is the expert,” Emily said. “How did you get into stripping?”
“Belly dancing,” Honey corrected her. “My cousin taught me. She danced at many weddings and bachelor parties.”
Though she looked like a cheap Kewpie doll and went by the name of Honey Buxom, the woman sounded a bit insulted by being called a stripper. She might have an interesting story. Up close without makeup, Honey looked like she was Sarah’s age, in her thirties. “Have you been belly dancing for a long time?”
“Long enough,” she said. “I’ve won many competitions. That was why Mr. Alvardo hired me. He looked me up on the internet.”
I’ll bet he did. “I wish we ladies had a chance to see you perform,” Sarah said. “The bachelor party is all male.”
“Show us some moves,” Emily said.
“Very well.”
Honey went into the bathroom and washed the goop from her face. When she emerged, she dropped one shoulder on her bathrobe, then the other. In her tan bra and panties, she appeared almost nude. Her state of undress didn’t embarrass her in the least as she struck a dramatic pose with her weight on her left foot and her right toe pointed in front. Her arms arched gracefully over her head, and her head tilted back.
She had a terrific hourglass figure and a golden tan so perfect that it had to come from a salon. Her stomach was sucked in, and her rib cage stuck out.
“I move like this,” she said as she thrust her pelvis to the right. She stepped forward. “Then like this.” Another thrust.
In case they were getting the idea that belly dancing was easy, she went through a series of complex gyrations and belly rolls.
Sarah, Emily and Rebecca cheered. When Honey made a high-pitched trill, they all did the same. They circled her, clapping in time to her movements. The way she isolated muscle groups was astounding. While her hips were vibrating wildly, her upper body was completely still. Her big finish was to shudder all over and colla
pse to the floor with her long blond hair spread around her.
The other three women applauded.
“The men,” Sarah said, “are never going to appreciate how much skill that takes. I can see why you won contests.”
Her eyes, which were nearly as dark as Sarah’s, glittered. “Thank you.”
“If you get that dance studio set up, let me know. I’ll be first in line to sign up for lessons.”
Sarah wished they had access to the internet. She would have liked to know more about Honey Buxom.
* * *
OUTSIDE, THE SNOW came down fierce and heavy. Blake and the other men had given up on driving the little sedan out of the rut where it had gotten stuck. Using brute force, they dragged the vehicle to the side of the road where it wouldn’t get run over by the snowplow.
“If the snowplow gets through,” Skip said. “I doubt we’re going to see that guy until the snow stops.”
Alvardo had his regular cell phone out and was waving it around, trying to get a signal. “Nothing,” he muttered. “I’m getting nothing.”
Being cut off from his electronic devices was obviously driving him crazy. His identity was completely tied up in his ability to stay connected. Or was it?
As much as Blake tried to analyze each of these men as a threat, he couldn’t find anything suspicious. Their cover stories were too good. Ollie and the Dewdrops appeared to be nothing more than a casual indie band, making their own unique brand of guitar and flute music as they traveled around the country. Skip had the earnest, young politician routine down pat. Alvardo was the very definition of military ambition. Maddox was quiet and might deserve a closer look. Ramon Martinez was a wild card because Blake didn’t know anything about him other than Sarah said his family had been caterers in the area for a long time.
As the others trudged back toward the house, he pulled Jeremy aside. Blake owed him an explanation. In a low voice, he said, “I lied when I told the others we couldn’t find the terminal box.”
“I thought so,” Jeremy said. “I’ve never known you to get lost.”
“The box was sabotaged with a bullet hole through the center. Somebody wanted to cut off our communication, and I’m thinking it might be an inside job.”
Jeremy’s gaze lifted to the men walking in front of them. “One of those guys?”
“It’s possible. And your dad mentioned terrorists.”
Jeremy stopped walking. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. We might be snowed in with a terrorist who has a vendetta against my father.”
“You have another choice,” Blake said. “It won’t be easy to drive away from here, but it’s possible. If you leave right now, you and Emily could make it into town or, at least, to a neighbor’s house.”
“It’s a risk. The snow is coming down pretty damn hard, and it’s ten miles of winding roads to reach an intersection.”
“Is it that far? I saw other houses along this road.”
“Vacation homes,” Jeremy said. “Most of them don’t have water in the winter. They’re vacant.”
“Is it worth the risk?” If he’d been in Jeremy’s shoes, he didn’t know what he’d decide.
“Can’t do it. Even if I knew Emily and I would make it to safety, I can’t leave my dad here. They’re after him. The terrorists are after him.”
Someone wanted to harm the general, to show him he would never be safe. But who?
Chapter Eighteen
In the kitchen, Sarah explained the situation to Slim and his children. “When I first made the catering arrangements, I thought we’d just be feeding the wedding party, the general’s aides and the senator’s speechwriter, which is ten people. Then the band showed up and I added another three.”
“Si, trece,” Slim said. “Thirteen.”
“But now, the twins and the stripper are staying. So it’s sixteen. And, of course, you’re going to need to eat.”
“We can work it out,” Marisol assured her. “If you’ve got heavy drinkers, we might run short on wine. Otherwise, we’ll spread the portions around.”
“Feel free to use anything in the pantry,” Sarah said.
“We don’t like to get into our clients’ supplies,” Marisol said. “But we might need to, especially if we’re snowed in all day tomorrow.”
She didn’t even want to consider that possibility. If they were stuck here after Sunday, she’d claw her way out with her bare hands. Pasting on a smile, she turned to Emily, who she was dragging along with her to help with preparations. “Next problem is finding somewhere for everyone to sit. We’re going to be really crowded around the dining room table.”
“Send the band and the twins into the game room to eat,” she said. “I would say to send Honey with them, but the boys will drool all over her food.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Together, she and Emily arranged the dining table with her best china, a fragrant white rose centerpiece and several candles. Other candles were scattered around the room, creating a romantic glow as they glistened on the silver. Sarah stepped back and took a look at their handiwork. Beautiful! She remembered why they were here: to witness a wedding. Rituals were important, even more so in the presence of danger and threat.
“I’m so happy for you, Emily.”
“It’s really pretty, isn’t it? I’m glad we didn’t run off to Vegas.”
If this had been a more typical wedding, this fancy dinner would have come after the rehearsal for the ceremony. But they didn’t have a justice of the peace, and the ceremony wasn’t going to be anything more than Emily and Jeremy stating vows they had written while Ollie and the Dewdrops played in the background. Not much practice was required.
Blake and Jeremy strode into the dining room together. Both wore guns at their hips. Their matching expressions were preoccupied and concerned and aggressively masculine.
“Ladies,” Blake said, “is everything under control?”
“I believe so,” Sarah answered.
Emily checked her wristwatch. “We have just enough time to dress for dinner.”
Sarah didn’t want to bother. “I can wear this.”
“No way,” Emily said. “You had a spa day. Your nails are gorgeous. And you’re wearing makeup. You need to dress appropriately for a five-star dinner of crab cakes with a beet salad, beef bourguignon with fresh-made pasta, peas and pearl onions and chocolate mousse dessert.”
“Do you think the food will care if I wear jeans?”
“That’s fine if you wear a nice top,” Emily said. “I think the gray silk.”
The two couples went through the front room where the Dewdrops and the stripper were sitting by the fireplace waiting for the feast. Sarah wasn’t sure where the others were and wondered how Blake was keeping track of the suspects. Or if he had narrowed the list. While Jeremy escorted Emily into their room, she went with Blake into hers and closed the door.
As soon as they were alone, he held her and kissed her hard. The muscles in his arms tensed. Her breasts crushed against his hard chest. He held her so tightly that she could hardly take a breath, and she liked his strength. His fierce need matched hers. She wanted him.
All afternoon, she’d been pretending that nothing was wrong, and the strain of holding back her emotions was nearly unbearable. She was angry, furious that they were caught in this situation through no fault of their own. And she was scared, desperate to escape.
She wanted to absorb herself into Blake, to bring him inside her. There wasn’t enough time. They should get back to the others, to make sure they didn’t kill each other.
Forcibly, she disentangled her arms. Breathing in heavy gasps, she looked up at him. His blue eyes were on fire.
Hoping to lighten the mood, she reached for the tip of his nose. Before she could honk, he grasped her w
rist. “Don’t,” he said. “I don’t want to relax. I need to stay alert.”
She didn’t argue. “What have you learned this afternoon? Who do you suspect?”
“Everybody,” he growled. “And nobody.”
“Frustrating.”
“You’re damned right it is.” He paced across her bedroom and sank into a chair by the small round table. “I’m inclined to let Ollie and the Dewdrops off the hook. We checked them out before we lost communication, and Kovak ran them through his criminal database. I guess there’s a chance that they’re using fake identities, but Alvardo has good sources.”
“His name comes up a lot,” she said. “Alvardo has the internet connections. He keeps track of the threats to the general. He’s like a big, fat spider sitting in the middle of his web.”
“I’m more suspicious of him than anyone else.” He flexed his shoulders and stretched. “Alvardo goes for a run every morning, which would be a time when he could sabotage the terminal or rendezvous with other conspirators. He could be using his internet connections to chat with just about anyone.”
“But he’s the general’s aide, a lieutenant.”
“A job he’s held for almost a year,” Blake said. “And he works at the Pentagon, which means he’s gone through some pretty intense security checks himself. If the threat is connected to any known terrorist organization, Alvardo isn’t a part of it. I can guarantee that.”
“And Maddox?”
“He has two older brothers who served under General Hamilton and credit the general’s leadership with saving their lives. Maddox fought to win his position as the general’s aide, and he says he’d do anything for him.”
“Do you believe him?”
Blake scowled as he considered. “My gut tells me that Maddox is loyal.”
“Your gut is good enough for me.” She crossed the room, sat on his lap and breathed into his ear. “Do we have time to make love before we join the others?”
