Along Came A Prince

by Carlyn Cade

  “Right,” Clay said. “Thanks for your help. We couldn’t have made it without the cooperation from your chief and his men and all the other security guards. Thank them for me.” He opened the door, stood up and peeled off his protective gear.

  Stacia sat up. She felt stiff all over and couldn’t wait to stand. As soon as she could wiggle out of her SWAT team armor, she joined Clay outside. He grabbed her hand firmly, and surrounded by security, they began to run the short distance to the plane.

  “Thanks for everything, Ryan,” Stacia called out over her shoulder as she tried to keep up with Clay’s stride.

  “Call me tomorrow, Stace,” she heard her brother shout back.

  They climbed the steps to the plane, and the door closed behind them. Clay showed her to her seat, and she collapsed into it, oblivious to her surroundings. She closed her eyes, relieved and happy that their escape plan had worked. How lucky she was to have two heroes in her life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Thanks for rescuing me,” Stacia said as the jet began its ascent into the midnight-black skies. They were climbing toward the stars and the moon. Higher and higher. She closed her eyes allowing her newly-found feeling of safety to surge through her. It was over. Her stalker could no longer harm her. And Ryan and Clay were responsible. She turned to Clay and smiled warmly.

  He reached over and took her hand. “It’s good to see you happy.”

  “I can’t believe I’m on my way to SwissDen again.” How could his slightest touch generate such heat inside her? Her pulse quickened. She held her hand still, neither encouraging nor discouraging him, just wanting the feeling of his hand on hers to last forever.

  “Are you sleepy?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I feel refreshed...revitalized...and mostly, free of fear.”

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that stalking experience.”

  Stacia shrugged her shoulders. “Some things are hard to reason out in your mind. As clichéd as it sounds, you can’t help but think, Why me? What did I do to deserve this? I couldn’t figure out why people uttered those questions before. I always thought they were complaining. Not anymore. Now, I realize they’re just two questions you need to know the answers to in order to put everything into the right perspective.”

  “And are there any answers to your questions?”

  Stacia thought for a second. “I have none. I believe there are some things you’re just given, and you have to accept them.” Like knowing the consequences if you decide to marry. She pressed her face against the window. “It feels like we could reach up and gather those stars in a basket, they’re so close.”

  Clay leaned over and shared the window with her. “How about the moon? It seems as if it’s close enough to touch too,” he whispered in her ear. “It all casts quite a romantic glow on our plane ride, don’t you think?”

  She could feel his breath on her face, and she inhaled deeply. His musky scent filled her senses until all she could do was close her eyes and enjoy his essence…and drift off to sleep.

  ♥♥

  Somewhere in her dreams, she heard Clay’s voice.

  “Wake up, Stacia, we’re home,” he said, as he stroked her hair gently.

  She opened her eyes and realized her head had been nestled cozily on his lap while she’d been sleeping. How long had she been asleep? And how did her head end up there anyway? They’d been over the ocean, and now they were at SwissDen? The rationale just wasn’t there. She looked up at him as if she could read the answers to her questions in his face. She sat up, feeling the warmth and comfort of him evaporate from her senses.

  Clay stood and shook his legs one at time as if to awaken them.

  She stretched and yawned.

  They glanced at each other, and Stacia found herself in the middle of a big bear hug from her rescuer. A soft kiss melted on her lips. Hmm. Being awake and next to him was much better than sleeping.

  “Welcome back,” he said.

  “Thank you for bringing me here. There are no words to tell you how much I appreciate all you did.” She wanted to cry in gratitude to him for helping to save her life, and now he was protecting her from her still-on-the-loose stalker. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him as close to her as possible. Tears began to float down her cheeks. She swiped them away, as the airplane landed and the engine stopped.

  They exited the plane and Clay’s parents greeted them at the door of the palace.

  “Did you have a pleasant trip, my dear?” the queen asked Stacia.

  “Yes, Your Majesty, it was lovely and the best sleep I’ve ever had. Your son was wonderful at protecting me.” She glanced coyly at Clay.

  He smiled back at her, and his eyes seemed to twinkle in response. “Well, I did have a little help from her brother, the security team and the L.A.P.D.

  “I’m happy everything worked out fine,” his mother said.

  “Everything but catching the stalker is fine,” Clay replied.

  “It won’t be long before that’s taken care of also,” the king remarked casually.

  “What do you mean, Your Majesty?” Stacia asked. “How will it be taken care of?”

  “I meant...” the king started to say, then looked at his son.

  “He means it won’t be long before your brother catches your stalker,” Clay deciphered for his father.

  There he goes again, Stacia thought. Just like Ryan, and he dodged my question when I wanted to know why my brother called him in the first place. Now the king acts as if he’s involved somehow. She stared at Clay with total disbelief painted on her face. What don’t they want me to know?

  “Maybe you should take Stacia to her room, Clay, and get her settled in,” the queen suggested. “I’m sure she’s tired.”

  “Since I slept on the plane, I’m fine right now. I would like to call my brother though, to make sure he’s all right.”

  “The jet lag will hit you soon,” Clay said. “In the meantime, let’s head down to the shops and pick up whatever you need, and then you can call Ryan.” He turned toward his parents. “I only let her bring what she could shove into her pockets. We had to move fast.”

  “Will we see you later for dinner?” the queen asked.

  “Better not plan on it. I have a feeling we’ll both be sleeping right through dinner.” Clay covered his mouth as he yawned. “Shall we go, Stacia?”

  She nodded, still puzzling over what Ryan and Clay were trying to conceal from her.

  ♥♥

  “Hel...lo,” Stacia mumbled, waking up to the sound of music on her cell phone. She tried to focus on where she was and figured out quickly she was in SwissDen and her brother had called her.

  “Hi, Stace.”

  “Ryan...are you okay? I tried calling you earlier. I’ve been so worried about you.”

  “Sorry. I just got home.”

  She was wide awake now. “What happened after we left? Did anyone get hurt?”

  “No. We think your stalker figured there were too many cops around, and he’d better disappear.”

  “Now what?”

  “We’ll keep following up on the leads we have. The important thing is our plan worked and you’re safe. All you have to do is stay put at SwissDen until we catch him. And, Stace, we will get him and lock him up where he can never try to hurt you again.”

  “Ryan, when are you going to tell me what you and Clay are trying to hide from me?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yes, you do,” she challenged. “You wouldn’t answer my question at home, and when I got here, I figured out the king knows what’s going on too.”

  Ryan laughed. “Your imagination’s working overtime. Why don’t you just concentrate on having a good time there and let me worry about everything else?”

  “I wish you were here,” she said sadly. “Then I wouldn’t have any worries.”

  “By the way, you’re front page news again. I called Mom and Dad and told them not to pay any at
tention to what they read or saw. I told them where you were and that you were safe. And I told the bodyguards, I hired before for them, to continue on 24/7, just in case.”

  “Thanks. You think of everything. Are they okay with all this?”

  “Again, as long as you’re safe, they are.”

  “How much time do you figure it’ll take to catch this killer? I hate holding up production on London Affair. Nathan and Arthur won’t be able to finish the picture on schedule if I don’t get back soon.”

  “You have no choice but to wait, Stace,” Ryan said firmly. “No matter how long it takes. Now, get back to sleep, so you can have a great time with Clay in the morning. Don’t worry. I’ll call you again when I have some news.”

  Stacia hit the off button on her cell. She tried again to figure out what it could be that they wouldn’t tell her. But she was too drowsy, and her thoughts were straying in too many directions.

  And most of them were centering on Clay as she fell asleep.

  ♥♥

  A week later, Ryan was sitting in his office at the police station, going over leads they’d received on the killer.

  “Saunders, get in here,” Brannigan barked through the intercom.

  Ryan hurried down the hall to his boss’s office. “What’s up?” he said as he walked through the doorway.

  “It seems we have a problem. Only a small one, I’m sure you’ll agree, but nonetheless a problem. A dead body – or what’s left of it – was dropped off on our steps a short time ago.”

  “In broad daylight?”

  The chief glanced out the window. “Yes, Saunders, I believe it was broad daylight.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Two reasons. This particular corpse reeks of the work of the Marcellini family.” Brannigan paused as he snuffed out the cigar he’d been smoking into the ashtray on his desk. “Any idea who the dead guy is?”

  Ryan shook his head.

  “Then, that brings me to reason number two. Right after the body was dropped off, my phone rang and a hoarse male voice relayed a most interesting message. Ring any bells yet?”

  Ryan shook his head again.

  “The voice said there was a package dropped off in front of the station, per the request of Ryan Saunders.”

  “Oh my God!” Ryan exclaimed and struck his forehead with the heel of his hand.

  “Your memory’s come back, I see,” the chief said sardonically. “It turns out this dead guy was a loner hit man and not a member of any of the mafia families. Marcellini’s been trying to get him for years, because he’d killed a number of his members. But the guy was diabolically clever. Each time they’d put out a hit on him, he’d manage to do the hit himself to whoever was sent to kill him.”

  “Did your informant identify him?”

  “He said his name was Al Jordan.”

  “That name sounds familiar,” Ryan said, trying to remember where he’d heard it.

  “According to my informant, his father was involved in a little kidnapping scheme back in forty-nine. It involved an actress by the name of Audra Parker.”

  Ryan snapped his fingers. “Of course. Now I remember. That’s the only name Helen Ashley Shores heard when she was kidnapped. Jordan. His father, huh?”

  “Those three kidnappers were killed by Santino, a rival family of Marcellini’s father. When Jordan’s father was killed by Santino’s men, Jordan became obsessed with revenge. He grew up hating the mob and became an assassin because of it, causing many deaths in the Santino and Marcellini family, as well as others. Some he was paid for, others not.

  “When he saw the movie London Affair was going to be remade with an actress who resembled Audra so closely, he saw his chance. He planned to get rid of Audra again, for his father’s sake. So we had a deadly combination on our hands – an assassin turned stalker. He intended to do to Stacia exactly what his father didn’t get to do to Audra. Rape and kill her. However, you were guarding her so perfectly he couldn’t get at her. That’s when he changed his plans and decided killing her would have to be enough. At any rate, your getaway derailed him, as he wasn’t prepared for that strategy. It was over. He had failed in his memorial to his father. ”

  “How did your anonymous tipster know all this?”

  “The mafia has a way of getting confessions out of people.”

  “And you have a talent for getting information out of informants,” Ryan said. “His death must have been a violent one.”

  “After what he did to countless people himself, the world is better off without scum-bags like him. Through the years he’s been convicted on anything the police could make stick, but they couldn’t get enough evidence to pin a murder rap on him.” Brannigan grabbed another cigar off his desk and bit the end off. He spit it out, leaned back in his chair, and proceeded to light up. “Today,” the chief explained as he puffed away, making smoke circles in the air as he spoke. “There are no powerful studios to prevent the truth from coming out, so finally Jordan thought his father’s death would be vindicated by killing Stacia. He thought his father was some sort of hero and that this would bring him the fame and honor he deserved. Sick mind, don’t you agree?”

  Without waiting for an answer, the chief continued. “The guy’s days were numbered. Marcellini wouldn’t have given up until Jordan was dead. They were able to close in on him this last week, because his mind was on Stacia or Audra, or whoever he fantasized her to be. This caused him to get careless, and with the publicity of Stacia’s escape, Marcellini’s men knew the general area he was in and tracked him down quickly and easily. The only extra thing they did was force a confession out of him before they executed him mob-style.”

  “And Marcellini, what about him?”

  “We’ll catch him one day, but not this time. I want an iron-clad conviction – one that will last his lifetime. But then again, maybe I won’t need to get him. These rival families have a way of rubbing each other out.”

  Ryan took a deep breath and expelled it. “My sister’s safe now. That’s what matters to me.”

  “This was a tough case. It’s the first time I’ve ever encountered a stalker and hit man combined. While I think of both of them as psychotic, they both have different M.O.’s. What made Jordan so dangerous was we didn’t know what we were fighting against.”

  “Well, justice was served anyway.”

  “Mind telling me, Saunders, how you were involved in this killing?” He set his cigar in the ashtray. “Did you put out a hit on Jordan?”

  “No way, sir. That was never my intention. I only did what I had to do to keep my sister safe.”

  “Not going to tell me, huh?” The chief grunted, stood up and adjusted the suspenders on his pants. “It doesn’t matter anyhow. The stalker was a dead man before you got into the act. Marcellini did us a favor. He gave us Melbourne’s killer as well as saving the State money for his execution. Now, get your ugly puss out of here and give Stacia the good news. It’s safe for her to come home.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “Are you sure, Father, you were explicit enough when you contacted Marcellini about Stacia’s stalker?” Clay asked his father after Ryan had called about Al Jordan being killed. “I remember telling you no rough stuff.”

  “And I remember telling you they will do as they want,” his father said. “Stacia’s safe now, isn’t she? Isn’t that what you wanted? And the world is rid of one less killer. I’d say that’s a win-win situation.”

  “How did you get mixed up with the mafia anyway? Your business partners seem to cover both ends of the spectrum. You have Sam Prescott on one end – loyal, honest and a good friend. Then Sonny Marcellini on the other – the opposite of everything Sam is. Wasn’t Sam’s money enough for your cause?”

  “You don’t understand power, Clay. Each man has a different type. Sam’s power is in the financial world, while Sonny’s is in the underworld, down in the dirt where the rebels dwell. I need both of them for different reasons.” His father
took a sip from the coffee cup sitting on his desk. “Sonny’s money also gives me power.”

  “And he could shoot you in the back if you didn’t do what he wanted.”

  “Only if he thought I’d double-crossed him, and I have no intention of doing that.”

  “So, Mother’s remark when I was young that we’d live in a den of inequity wasn’t far off, was it?” Clay stood up and walked over to one of the palace windows and gazed outside.

  “I have one goal in my life and that is to regain my country, to strip those rebels of the power they stole from me and to make them pay for it. How I do it matters not to me, nor should it to you.”

  Clay glanced at his father. The years of anger and bitterness inside him was spread across his face like an open wound. Same argument. Different day.

  “When you reign as king, my son, you will thank me then.”

  “You don’t get it, do you?” Clay sat back down on his chair and leaned forward to try to get his message across. “I don’t want to be king of anything. I have too many other things I want to do with my life. Getting mixed up with Sonny Marcellini is not one of those options.”

  “If you don’t want to be king for my sake, then you should be for your mother’s. She deserves to be called queen again officially, and I intend for her to be.”

  “I think Mother’s happy right here at SwissDen, the same as I am.”

  His father pounded the desk with his fist. His coffee cup and the other loose items rattled noisily from the vibration. “There’s a principle here. I’ve told you that before. I have a duty to my subjects. I don’t have any choice but to strengthen my position in any way I can in order to rule my country once more.”

  “Suppose you tell me how close you are to achieving this goal?”

  “I don’t want you to be involved. The less you know, the safer you are.”