Holiday Havoc

by Terri Reed

  Finally Maria shook her head. “Why would you eat that, knowing you have allergies?”

  “The resort had instructions about my allergies, just like always. I assumed it would be fine.” He let his head drop back on the cushion, only to jerk it up again when he heard her pushing buttons on her cell phone. “What are you doing?”

  “Calling the cops. Someone just tried to kill you and nearly gave me a heart attack in the process.”

  He took the phone from her and pressed End.

  “Why did you do that?” Her eyes spit fire, but one lone curl escaped from her ponytail and bounced around her face. For some reason, that made him want to smile.

  “Someone broke into my home in Atlanta a couple of weeks ago. Before the police ever got to my house, I got a threatening phone call telling me I’d regret bringing the police into this.”

  “So? I’m not following. You’re not in Atlanta and if someone’s trying to kill you, you need police protection.” She took her phone from his hand.

  She was right, but he couldn’t shake the fear that calling attention to this would only escalate things with his stalker. He was putting everything on the line this weekend in order to make the changes he needed to make. But none of it would matter if his family wasn’t safe.

  What could he do? If he called the police, there could be reprisals that no one could predict. If he didn’t, he would still be at risk. Then it occurred to him. “You could do it.”

  Maria blanched. “I’m not that kind of cop, Ben. I’m a CSI. I work with evidence.”

  “It would work. Everyone saw the morning show—they know you’re my date. No one would suspect you’re actually a bodyguard.”

  “Because I’m not.” She bounced to her feet, a five-foot-two bundle of repressed energy. “I don’t think you’re quite getting what I’m saying. I work in a lab.”

  His eyes were getting heavy, the effects of the epinephrine wearing off and the antihistamine kicking in. It was an effort for his eyes to meet hers and hold them. Like it or not, he needed her. “Please?”

  The word hung in the air as his eyes drifted shut.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Maria shook him. “Ben, wake up. At least get on the couch before you sleep it off.”

  He shoved upward with his arms and managed to land half of his body on the couch. His eyelids at half-mast, his nonetheless very persuasive eyes met hers and locked on. “Please, Maria? There’s more at stake than you know.”

  His voice slurred, his eyes closing again as he spoke. She blew out a breath and scrubbed her fingers over her eyes. Why was this happening?

  Oh, yeah. Gabe and Joe had thrown her under this particular bus and they were going to pay. But the question remained, what did she do now?

  She grabbed a faux-fur throw from the back of the couch and tossed it over Ben, pausing for only another second to make sure his breathing was okay before she walked to the table. She wasn’t allergic to nuts, so there was no danger for her from the chocolates. She picked one up, broke it in half and sniffed.

  Really, unless every single chocolate in this elaborate arrangement had been replaced with one with nuts, how could a killer have known that Ben would pick up one of the chocolates that had peanuts in it?

  There was a slight residue on the outside of the chocolates, almost as if they’d been brushed or sprayed with something. She needed to know what. A plastic bag in the kitchen would work as an evidence bag. With Ben’s reluctance to get the police involved, she wouldn’t call the locals, but she could still have her lab take a look at them.

  Maria looked at her watch. The formal event started in three and a half hours. She walked into the rooms he’d called a lockout suite. The decor matched the larger penthouse, but on a slightly smaller scale. Soft instrumental Christmas music played from surround sound speakers she couldn’t even see.

  Her small overnight bag looked very lonely on the enormous king-size bed. She unzipped it, almost afraid to see what the guys had packed for her. Jeans, a couple of tank tops and her favorite old cashmere sweater were at the top of the pile, which was nice.

  Not formal.

  She wasn’t formal. She was jeans and boots. Dressing up meant lip gloss. Maria dragged a finger across her bare lips. It would take a miracle of epic proportions to pull this off.

  A date. And not just any date. What were the guys thinking? She shook her head, frizzy curls flying in all different directions. Oh, she knew what they thought about her—she could handle the truth about herself. She was an independent, occasionally bossy, sometimes cranky, almost always in-charge kind of woman.

  The guys had teased her about never having dates. She couldn’t fault them on their skills of observation. They were good cops, after all. What they didn’t know was that she’d had chances. She’d even taken a few, but when the time came to really make a decision to go for it, she couldn’t pull the trigger.

  She’d had such a disorganized childhood. Her dad had split when she was pretty young. Not a big deal. It happened to kids all the time—but being bounced from place to place the way she was, her childhood had been chaotic. And yeah, there was still something in her that was afraid of getting left behind by the people who meant the most.

  When it really counted, people were unreliable. Chaotic. Science wasn’t. It was predictable and safe. Definitive.

  The way she saw it, science was God’s gift to a messy, messy world. And she used that gift to help other people make sense from their chaos, as science had done for her.

  Maria needed science.

  But she also knew when science wasn’t enough. Right now, she needed help. It was time to call in reinforcements. She paced the room, stopping to finger a branch on a softly glowing Christmas tree. She couldn’t make a firm decision until she had all the information. “Chloe Rollins.”

  Maria let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Chloe, I need help. There are all these events and I don’t have clothes.”

  She could hear the smile in Chloe’s voice, but of all the cops Maria knew, Chloe was the only one with any fashion sense. “What kind of event is first?”

  “A formal.” She looked down at her work boots. This was her kind of footwear, not tiny spiked heels with glittery things on them. Blood spatter she could handle. Makeup? Not so much. “Never mind, I don’t think I can do this.”

  “If you don’t do this, you will never hear the end of it from those guys at the precinct.” Chloe was a detective and worked with those same guys, but obviously she was siding with her gender in this fight. “Here’s what I want you to do. As soon as you get off the phone with me, call the spa. Have them do…everything. It will be expensive—also worth it. Promise, Maria.”

  “I promise. And the clothes?” Maria felt like a preteen girl talking to her much cooler, hipper older sister.

  “You let me take care of the clothes. I’ll see you in two and a half hours. Don’t worry.” Chloe clicked off.

  Don’t worry. Maria looked through the open door at the man sleeping on the couch in the living room. Easier said than done.

  How many times had Ben told himself the exact same thing when it came to dealing with a stalker who apparently had been targeting him for some time? He’d come very close to dying today.

  She walked a little closer. In sleep, the hard planes of Ben’s face relaxed. He looked innocent, young. She turned away. The contents of his backpack still lay tumbled on the floor from her frantic search for the EpiPen. His well-worn Bible was on top of the pile.

  Surely he couldn’t be all bad, right? Was this who he was? The guy who read the Bible until the pages were slipping from their binding? Her own Bible wasn’t nearly as well-used. Maybe she hadn’t been reading it as often as she should’ve.

  She smothered a snort. Maybe if she’d been reading hers more often she wouldn’t want to smack him with his.

  He was right about one thing. He needed help. She still wasn’t positive she was the person who needed to give it, but like i
t or not, she was the person who could.

  She slid the key card off the granite countertop and tucked it into her pocket, walked to the elevator and punched the button.

  Just what exactly did they do at a spa?

  Ben swam through a long, dark tunnel toward a ringing phone. Consciousness came slowly. He punched the button. “Yeah.”

  “Ben? What is going on? Where are you?” His agent’s voice was getting shrill and making Ben’s head hurt.

  “I’m at the resort, Charlotte. Right where I’m supposed to be.” Ben sat up on the couch. His eyes felt like someone had shoved a couple of grapes in with his eyeballs. Maybe in a few minutes he could face opening his eyes, but not yet.

  “I saw the broadcast this morning. I can’t believe they picked that woman. People have to be interested enough to follow this, Ben. If the ratings don’t pick up enough to give them the boost they need—”

  “Stop.” Maria might not be a supermodel, but she’d saved his life. “Maybe more people will watch because she looks like a normal person, Charlotte. Did you think of that?”

  Besides, there was something about her he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Those amazing eyes and that spark of intelligence, sure, but there was more. Maybe when his head wasn’t so fuzzy he could figure it out.

  His agent didn’t speak for a moment, a feat in itself. Then she asked, “Are you okay, Ben?”

  Ben sighed. “I’m not sure. The stalker got close to me today.”

  “How close?” His agent’s tone warned him that explosion was imminent, but what else could he say?

  “Close enough to try to kill me.” He held the phone out from his ear. As the shrieks dulled to a lower roar, Ben said, “Can we talk about this?”

  “We need to pull the plug on this now.” His agent still had a tinge of panic in her voice.

  “If I walk away from this event, I walk away from my future.” Ben blew out a breath and opened his eyes. The penthouse apartment was almost dark, except for the glowing lights of the Christmas tree. Where was Maria?

  “At least let me send someone to look out for you. Someone large, with muscles. And a gun, preferably a very big gun.”

  Ben chuckled and stood. He swayed on his feet a second, the after-effects of the medication, then walked toward the huge expanse of windows. The sun had dropped into the Gulf of Mexico, but a faint pink glow remained in the western sky.

  He turned and faced the room—the fancy-pants suite with its marble floor and enormous Italian chandelier. With just a little bit of luck, he’d be trading it all in on Monday for scarred-up wood floors and a swing set in the backyard. He just needed to keep his priorities straight.

  “I’ve got it covered, Charlotte. I’ve already engaged a bodyguard.” With a few more well-placed reassurances, he managed to hang up with his agent. He switched on a couple of lamps and punched a button that sent the curtains sliding across a hidden track to close out the darkness outside. The door to Maria’s suite was closed and behind it he could hear talking as, he hoped, she was getting ready for the evening.

  The tux that hung on the back of his bedroom door was one that he’d worn a dozen times or more, but he thought of it now with distaste. He’d much rather be in jeans and a T-shirt, watching a movie and eating microwave popcorn, something some of his coworkers couldn’t understand. He knew there were at least a few who would do almost anything to get what he had right now.

  Ben had a couple of ideas about who might want to do him harm, but unfortunately he had no proof. What he did have was a feisty CSI on his side, which somehow made him feel less alone.

  He picked up his backpack from the floor and began stuffing all the assorted junk back into it, stopping as he got to the Bible. He held it in his hands, reassured by the familiar weight of it. He carried it with him, not as a talisman, but as a reminder and a challenge. A reminder that God was with him even in the tough times, a challenge to be the person God wanted him to be, even in his crazy life. Sometimes it even worked.

  Hopefully a steamy shower would wash away the residual sluggishness from his allergy attack. He had a feeling that he would be needing every bit of awareness he could scrounge. He’d very nearly died today in a moment of inattention. He couldn’t let that happen again. There were too many people counting on him for Ben to give up that easily.

  One weekend. Everything on the line.

  THREE

  At seven twenty-five, there was a knock on the door. Maria looked in the mirror one more time. She almost didn’t recognize the person she saw. She still wasn’t quite sure what the stylist had done to her curls to make them so—curly. She’d left the salon with a sackful of hair products.

  If she could afford it, she would hire the woman to live with her.

  The clothes Chloe brought were fabulous—the fashion-savvy cop had made a whirlwind trip through the BCBG outlet. The shoes were Chloe’s own and, while Maria was absolutely sure she would trip every second, she had to admit, if only to herself, that there were some good things about being a girl.

  Then there was the makeup artist. He’d brushed on some smoky something around Maria’s eyes. That appointment had necessitated another bag of goodies. As Chloe said, the afternoon had definitely not been cheap. But…

  Maria looked like a girl. Maybe she’d always known there was a feminine side down inside her somewhere, but it had been well hidden beneath a lab coat and goggles.

  She brushed aside her red dress to make sure her small handgun was still tucked into her holster and grinned. Well, maybe not quite so girly.

  The knock came again. Maria drew a deep breath, smoothed down her dress and opened the door.

  Ben stood in the hall. He smiled when he saw her. “Wow. You look incredible.”

  She shrugged one shoulder and reached behind her for the wrap that Chloe had insisted she would need. “Thanks, so do you.”

  He’d been one of People magazine’s most beautiful people the year before. It was crazy surreal to be here, dressed like this, going to a party with him—a man she would’ve sworn she didn’t like. What she had to figure out was who he really was. Was he Ben Storm the kid she’d known in high school, or was he Ben Storm the television persona? Was that person even real?

  What was very real was the fact that someone had tried to kill him. That she was prepared to stand between Ben and that someone if they tried again.

  She stepped out the door and saw the television crew behind him. The cameraman winked and waved her forward with one hand as her feet tried to stall out.

  Ben took her hand and tucked it into his arm. He leaned in and whispered, “This isn’t awkward much, is it?”

  She laughed. “A little bit, yeah.”

  The cameraman jumped on the elevator ahead of them, starting to speak as the red light on the camera went off. “I’ll take the elevator down and then send it back for you two. I want to be at the bottom when you get down there. And Ms. Fuentes, you look—amazing.”

  Amazing wasn’t even the word for how she looked. She was absolutely stunning. In fact, if Ben was smart, he would check to make sure he’d picked up his jaw from the floor, where he was pretty sure he’d dropped it when she’d opened the door.

  Her red satin dress definitely had wow factor, but it was the transformation in Maria that Ben couldn’t get over. She’d done something with her hair and instead of the bouncy tangle she’d had earlier, she wore a long waterfall of loose curls down her back.

  The golden eyes that she’d hidden behind chunky sunglasses now looked enormous. Gone was the geeky crime scene investigator. In her place was this gorgeous woman. As the elevator doors closed, she leaned toward him and spoke in his ear, her voice a husky whisper. “You’ll need to stay on my left, so I can reach my gun with my right hand.”

  Ben swallowed hard, her words the dose of cold water he’d needed. She wasn’t here to be his arm candy, though she’d certainly qualify. She’d agreed to be his bodyguard. Someone had tried to kill him. He didn’t know wh
y it was so hard for him to make that fact sink in. Maybe because it seemed so unbelievable. So extreme.

  “I’ll try to remember, but if I don’t, just give me a pinch and I’ll move.”

  She turned him toward her and reached up to straighten his tie. “You’ll be fine, but if you’re worried, I could call in some friends—”

  “No.” He put a hand on her arm, stopping her words. “I’ll be fine. Now that we know that someone is gunning for me, we’ll be hyperaware. We won’t let anyone get close.”

  As the elevator doors opened, Ben and Maria were spit out into a sea of humanity. Fortunately, because cameras and lights were following them, there was a slight space around them, but he could feel Maria tense beside him and see her eyes as they darted around the room, looking for anything that might be out of the ordinary.

  “Get to our table as fast as possible.” Maria gazed up at him and said it with a smile, putting herself between him and a guy who was getting a little too close on his right side.

  “We’re supposed to mingle.” But was mingling even possible? He had no real idea who could be out to get him. In a venue like this, with such a crush of people, it would be so easy for someone to attack him.

  Someone bumped Maria from behind and she landed hard against his chest. Out of reflex, he wrapped his arms around her, focusing on her eyes.

  He took a deep breath as the activity in the room seemed to spin away. “Okay?”

  Her smile faded and she blinked. Nodded yes. “There are too many people in here.”

  When she looked up at him from under her eyelashes, even he believed that she meant she wanted time with him. Then he remembered the cameras.

  “Through the double doors to the left. It should be more quiet in there.” He was stopped a couple of times heading to their table, but they finally made it into the banquet hall. As he closed the doors behind him, he waved goodbye to the television audience.

  He hadn’t expected the stress. He was used to the cameras, but there were so many chances for disaster here.