She glanced down and saw the food cart, with the silver covers over the plates, but there was no sign of Josh.
Dropping the wallet onto the floor, she tugged her gun out of her purse. "Josh?" she called. "Are you out there?"
Nothing. The hall was silent. No footsteps on the thick carpet, no sound of movement, no ding of an elevator arriving.
She turned to listen for the shower, but it was off. Finn would be throwing on his robe.
Hurrying through the living room, she stuck her head in the door to find Finn, robed and belted, heading for the living room. She put her hand on his chest when he reached for her. "Put some clothes on," she said quietly. "Dinner is here, but not Josh."
Instead of asking her questions, he shrugged out of the robe and reached for a shirt. Mia didn't linger to appreciate his sculpted body, the way she would have any other night. Instead, she headed for the door, her gun gripped in her right hand, and eased it open.
The food cart blocked the exit. Nudging it gently out of the way with her hip, she slipped out of the room and scanned the silent hall.
A bell boy was almost at the staircase. "Josh?" she called. Why hadn't he waited for her to answer the door.
He raised his hand and waved, but didn't turn around.
She watched until he banged open the exit door and disappeared into the stairwell. Her heart racing, she told herself he had another delivery to make. That's why he hurried away.
She tugged the cart into the room, closed and locked the door. Finn emerged from the bedroom, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the food. "Thank God. I hope you got me the biggest steak they have."
"Yep." She set her gun on the table and steered the cart toward their usual window seats. "Biggest salad, too."
Finn lifted the domed covers off the plates, slid into a chair and picked up his fork. "Come on, Mia," he said as he dug into the salad. "Or I'm going to be rude and start without you."
She stared down at the food but didn't see it. Her mind was still reviewing the sight of Josh, disappearing into the stairwell.
Finn scooped up a forkful of salad and raised it to his mouth. The lightbulb in Mia's head lit up as he opened his mouth.
Leaping at him, she knocked the fork out of his hand, sending bits of lettuce and a piece of tomato flying across the table. A blob of salad dressing landed on Finn's robe.
"What the hell?" He stared at Mia, confused.
"Put the covers back on the plates. Don't touch any of it," she said. "Josh didn't deliver it."
"Who did, then?"
"Don't know. But it wasn't Josh. He was almost at the stairwell door when I saw him. I called, but he waved at me. Didn't turn around."
"He probably had somewhere else he had to be," Finn said, but he replaced the covers over the plates of food.
"Go wash your hands," Mia ordered. "Your face, too, if any of the food touched it."
Finn leaned back in his chair. "Are you sure you're not overreacting?"
"No. That wasn't Josh. It was a woman."
"You sure?"
"Yes. She was dressed like a bell boy, but she walked like a woman."
Finn stood up, holding his hands away from his body. He looked down at them, and she realized they were shaking.
"It's fine," she said. "You didn't actually eat anything. If I'm overreacting, you can tease me all you want. But I don't want to take any chances with you." Her job had become far too personal. If Finn was hurt on her watch, or worse, she'd never forgive herself.
He turned to head toward the sink in the wet bar, and she grabbed the back of his robe. Tugged it off his shoulders and tossed it on the floor. "Don't touch that."
He turned to face her wearing nothing but his boxers, and she nudged him toward the sink. "Wash your hands and face before you do anything else."
Her gaze drifted to his ass, hugged by his boxer briefs, as he lathered his hands and his face. Mia closed her eyes. Focus.
"I need you to stay in the suite," she said, putting her hand on his chest when he turned back to her. His heart beat rapidly against her fingers. "Call the kitchen and ask if Josh was the one who picked up the cart. If he was, call down to the desk and ask if Josh is back. If he's not, ask them to call you the minute he returns."
She turned to leave, but Finn snagged her wrist. "Where are you going?" His eyes were dark with worry, and he tightened his grip on her, as if he didn't intend to let her go.
She turned to face him, her heart racing as much as his. "To do my job," she said evenly. "To see if anyone's hiding in the stairwell. Hiding in a recessed room door." She was pretty sure the woman was gone, but she needed to check anyway.
Still trembling from the close call, she lifted onto her toes and pressed her mouth against his for a long moment. "Don't touch the cart or anything on it. Lock the door behind me," she murmured. "Don't open it to anyone but me." A million scenarios rushed through her brain. "Or one of my brothers."
"'One of your brothers?'" He grabbed her as she tried to back away. "What does that mean, Mia? Why would one of your brothers show up instead of you?"
"Trying to cover all the bases," she said. She kissed him again, then pried his hands from her shoulders, locked their fingers together. "I'll only be few minutes, okay? You'll be safe in here with the door locked."
"I'm not worried about me. What about you? Are you going to be safe out there?" He stroked his thumbs over the backs of her hands, a rhythmic, steady movement that steadied her racing heart.
"I have a gun," she said, careful not to make a promise she might not be able to keep. "I'm not going to do anything stupid."
"You damn well better not." He tightened his grip on her hands until he was squeezing her bones together. "Stay here," he blurted out. "Call some other cops to check out the hall."
"I can't do that, Finn. If she's out there, she'll be long gone before any other cops show up." She squeezed his hands, pulled him closer and kissed him again. Then she let him go and walked toward the door, grabbing her gun from the table. Still a little shaky, she bumped into the table. The vase holding the bouquet wobbled, making the fading blossoms tremble. She wrenched open the door and closed it behind her without looking back at Finn.
Forcing herself to forget the man waiting for her behind that door, she started down the hall. Her head swiveled from side to side as she checked every possible hiding place, her gun steady in her hand. She looked over her shoulder every few seconds, making sure no one was behind her.
The door to the stairwell opened easily, and she stood on the landing for countless seconds, listening. No footsteps. No sound of breathing. No sense of life in the stairwell.
She repeated everything in the hall on the opposite side of their room. It was empty, as well. Whoever had delivered the cart was gone.
Just as she'd expected.
Knocking softly on their door, she saw a shadow cover the peephole, then Finn swung the door open. She'd barely made it into the room before he crushed her against him, his face buried in her neck. "I don't like your job," he murmured against her skin.
Setting her gun back on the table beside the door, she locked her arms around his waist and lifted to find his mouth. "I know," she murmured against his lips. "I know. But it's okay. No one's out there."
After a long moment, his desperate grip on her eased. He let her mouth go and sucked in a deep breath. "Josh picked up the cart in the kitchen. He's not back at the desk yet. They'll call when he shows up."
Mia glanced at her watch. It had been more than ten minutes since the food cart showed up. Her heart rate spiked as dread coiled in her belly. "Josh should have been back downstairs a while ago. I'm calling my brothers."
"Why not just call the cops?"
"Not sure I want this to go into a police report," she said. "If Josh is just…just using the bathroom, or calling his girlfriend, I don't want to get him into trouble. I also don't want it in writing that you're staying here. If something's happened to Josh, of course we'll call it in."
Without waiting for him to answer, she plucked her phone out of her purse and pressed Brendan's name. When he answered, she said, "Bren. Are you on duty?"
"Just got off. Heading home."
"Can you come over to the Drake? We've got a situation here."
"You need more than me?" he said immediately. "Cilla's on her way home, too. I'll call her and Quinn. Pretty sure Con's still on duty."
Mia exhaled. "That would be great, Bren. We're in room 1216." She hesitated, but anxiety still gripped her. "And Bren? Light it up."
Less than ten minutes later, Brendan knocked on the door. When she opened it, he stepped inside, cataloging everything immediately – the two separate bedrooms. The windows, looking down at the lake. The lack of a balcony.
The sumptuous furniture, the bouquet of flowers on the table, beginning to fade and wilt. Mia made a mental note to get rid of it tomorrow.
"Nice set-up," Brendan said. Only after checking everything did he turn and hug her. Then, one hand draped possessively over Mia's shoulder, Brendan reached for Finn's hand, studying her lover as they exchanged handshakes. "You look like hell, O'Rourke."
"Feel like hell, too," Finn shot back.
"We've got a missing bellboy," Mia told her brother. "You need to stay here with Finn while I look for him."
"Why can't you stay here and let Brendan look for Josh?" Finn said immediately. She saw the worry in his eyes and touched his hand.
"Because I know what Josh looks like. Bren doesn't."
Finn opened his mouth to argue with her, and Mia shook her head, a tiny movement that Brendan didn't notice. "Call Doug and have him pick up the food to have it tested. I'll be back soon," she said.
Before either of the men could answer, she grabbed her gun, slid it into the holster she'd strapped on after she called Brendan, and headed for the elevator.
It dinged before she reached it. When the doors opened, Cilla and Quinn stepped out. "Thank God," she said. "Cilla, Bren is in the room with Finn. Why don't you stay with them?" With any luck, Cilla would be able to calm the testosterone storm Mia was afraid was erupting in the suite. "Quinn, you come with me."
As they rode the elevator down to the lobby, she explained to her brother what had happened and her concern for Josh. As soon as they stepped into the lobby, she pulled out her badge and approached the concierge. "I need to know how to get to the kitchen," she said.
The woman behind the desk pointed out the way, and she ran down the stairs, Quinn right behind her. The kitchen was noisy and bright, voices shouting and pots and pans clattering against the burners of the stove. Mia grabbed a server who was reaching for a plate on the warming table.
Showing him her badge, she asked, "How do you deliver room service meals?"
Staring at her badge, his eyes huge, he stuttered, "We take the service elevator."
"How do I find it? Quickly."
He dropped the plate onto the table and said, "I'll show you."
Chapter 23
Finn watched the door close quietly behind Mia and had to stop himself from ripping it open again. To beg her to stay here, to let her brother look for Josh. He didn't want Mia walking into a potentially dangerous situation. What if his stalker had hurt Josh? What if she was still around, and she tried to hurt Mia?
He'd never forgive himself if something happened to her because she was trying to protect him.
He turned to Brendan. "Tell her to come back. You go look for Josh."
Brendan's face softened. "Mia knows what she's doing, Finn. She's a great cop. Careful. Meticulous. Smart. She doesn't take any unnecessary risks." He put his hand on the other man's shoulder and squeezed. "She'll be fine."
Finn wanted to snap at him. Ask him how he'd feel if Cilla was the one out there alone, searching for a possibly injured kid.
As if he'd read Finn's mind, Brendan said, "I get it, man. It's worse for a civilian who lov..who's involved with a cop. You're always going to worry. But Mia doesn't take chances. She's not a hot dog who acts before she thinks."
Finn shook off Brendan's hand and turned to stare out the window. Brendan had almost said 'loves a cop.' He'd caught himself, but Finn knew.
He didn't love Mia. He couldn't. What he felt for her was a tangled knot of emotion and regret, sitting on his chest like a stone.
He wished they had more time together. But they lived two thousand miles apart. Had different lives, different goals. He didn't want to walk away from her in another week, but what choice did he have? He had commitments in Los Angeles. A job he had to do.
Mia's home was in Chicago. So was her job. Her family. Her life was in the Midwest.
Wishing things were different didn't make it so.
Someone knocked on the door. Brendan peered out the peephole, then swung the door open. Cilla walked in and wrapped her arms around him. Brendan bent to kiss her. They murmured to each other for a few moments, too softly for Finn to hear. Then, his arm over her shoulder, holding Cilla against him, he drew her into the room and shut the door.
Brendan had clearly forgotten Finn was in the room. Cilla hadn't noticed him yet. All they saw was each other.
Finn watched them, both envious and sad. He'd never looked at Gemma like that.
He snorted to himself. Compared to what Brendan and Cilla clearly felt for each other, he'd been playing in the kiddie pool with Gemma. Brendan and Cilla were swimming in the deepest part of the ocean.
And Gemma? She'd never loved anyone but herself.
"Hey, Finn." Cilla's voice.
He turned and forced a smile. "Hi, Cilla. Thanks for coming over."
She shrugged. "Bren said Mia needed help."
She spoke as if it was a given. That if one of them needed help, everyone showed up without a second thought. Even the girlfriends and fiancees.
That didn't happen in his world.
In his business, everything was calculated. Everything was about the bottom line. What's in it for me? How will this affect my career? Who'll be there who might be helpful?
"I know she appreciates the way you guys dropped everything to come over here," Finn said.
Cilla shrugged again. "She'd do it for us, too. In a heartbeat." She glanced at the table next to the door. The shiny silver domes over the plates suddenly looked like symbols of his life – beautiful to look at, but mostly hot air inside.
"What are we doing with these?" Cilla asked, tapping her fingernail on one of the domes. A low, hollow sound reverberated through the air.
"I'm supposed to call Doug and have him send someone to pick it up and have the food tested."
"And Doug would be…?" Cilla studied him, her expression curious.
Finn swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable throwing Doug's name around. "My godfather. Doug Walsh."
Her eyebrows shot up. "Your godfather's the Superintendant? Is that why you're getting special treatment? Your own personal cop for three weeks?"
"The studio is paying for it," he retorted, but he cringed inside.
Cilla was right. He didn't think twice about the special perks he got. The privileges he took for granted.
"You'd better call him, then," she said, but her expression softened. Had she noticed his embarrassment? "This needs to get to a lab."
He pulled out his phone, explained to Doug what had happened. His godfather assured him he'd send someone right over.
By the time he was off the phone, at least ten minutes had passed since Mia walked out of the room. She wasn't back. He double-checked his phone in case she'd texted him or tried to call while he was on the phone with Doug.
She hadn't.
He hurried to the door and looked out the spy hole. She wasn't in the hall.
"Hey, Finn, sit down," Brendan said, breaking off a conversation with Cilla. "Relax. Quinn is with her. She's fine."
"I'm worried about Josh," he said. It was true – he was worried about the kid. He was just more worried about Mia.
Finn continued to pace the room, his phone clu
tched in his hand. Cilla and Brendan watched him, but no one spoke. The silence in the room was getting more and more uncomfortable.
He glanced at his phone, realized his finger was poised over Mia's contact information. Clenching his teeth, he slipped the phone into his pocket. Mia didn't need him calling her in the middle of what could be a mess.
Brendan was right. Mia was smart. Quick. A good cop. She knew what she was doing.
That didn’t stop him from worrying, though.
Finally he forced himself to sit in the seat opposite Brendan and Cilla, plastered together on the couch. "So." He forced his shoulders to relax, his teeth to unclench. "When's the wedding?"
Fifteen minutes later, in the middle of Cilla's description of their wedding plans, someone rapped on the door. Cilla went to check it, then jerked her head toward Finn. "Come here and verify it's who I think it is before I open the door."
Hurrying over to the door, Finn saw his godfather on the other side. Damn it! Doug would show up tonight, when everything had turned into a cluster.
"Doug," he said as he opened the door. "You didn't have to come yourself."
His godfather frowned. "You tell me someone needs to pick up your food and have it tested, and you think I'm not going to check it for myself?"
"Mia said it needed to go to a lab. You going to be the delivery guy?" Finn's voice was sharper than it should have been. Doug was the last person he wanted to see tonight.
"Evidence techs are right behind me." He scanned the room, stopped when he saw Brendan and Cilla, who were now standing near the food cart. "Who's this?"
Brendan stepped forward and held out his hand. "Detective Brendan Donovan, sir. And this is Detective Cilla Marini. Mia needed some help."
Doug shook Brendan's hand, then Cilla's. He studied both of the detectives, then asked, "Where is Mia? And why did she call the two of you?"
"I'm her brother," Brendan said. "Cilla is my fiancée. Detective Quinn Donovan, another brother, is with Mia right now. They're looking for the bell boy who usually delivers the food to this suite. He's missing."
Protect Me Page 21
