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Hustled To The Altar

Page 23

by Dani Collins


  “You—oh, you’re kidding. Did you walk out with Con’s game prop? That’s funny!”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Yes, it is. Con had the bellman cut it so he could use it for that game he’s working on. I can’t believe you grabbed it instead of your own. Yours must still be in the suite. Where are we going?”

  “The health mine. I don’t want to be in town when you call him. You’re going to get my money back for me.”

  “Sure, but we could just go up to the suite.”

  “Can you believe her?” he asked Sergio. “Ain’t she a piece of art?” He turned up the valley road. “Cut the crap, Renny. I know you’re working for the old lady from last weekend. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come downstairs at the hotel when I told them to tell you she was waiting for you.”

  “I was expecting my aunt. She’s upset that I’m selling Mom’s jewelry.”

  He shook his head in an expression of weary cynicism.

  “Seriously, Felix. If I purposely switched your cases, I would have to know what kind of case you had. How would I know that?”

  “I don’t know how you did it! I’ve been trying to work it out, but the fact remains I don’t buy that you just happened to have a matching case full of boodle next to the desk. Your boyfriend must have done it.”

  “The man just made millions selling his company. What would he want with your money? You took the wrong case, that’s all. It was a reasonable mistake, given that you left in such a hurry. Why did you?”

  “Because you were on the telephone to the police!”

  “Do you have something to hide?” She felt like a runner hitting her stride. This was her opportunity to take another stab at stopping Felix and she meant to exploit it fully. “It’s all right. I won’t judge. My brother is in and out of trouble all the time. That’s who I had to bail out this evening. What did you do?”

  He didn’t say anything and she let him stew until he had parked outside the health mine. He turned in his seat to look at her.

  “You’re going to call Burke. Tell him to bring the money, but no cops. Understand?”

  She was trying not to laugh. This was too easy. The fact Con had tricked her had made her furious, but he wanted Felix’s blood as much as she did. He’d wipe the gravel parking lot with the con man and Felix was practically setting himself up for it.

  Felix gave her a cellphone.

  She called the hotel and Con answered. “It’s me,” she said. “Apparently I’ve been kidnapped. Did you steal Felix’s money? Because he thinks you did.”

  “Are you all right?” His voice sounded shaken and she faltered a moment. He wasn’t actually worried, was he?

  “Fine.”

  “Jesus, Ren. Where are you?” he demanded.

  “Both cases,” Felix interjected.

  “Both? But—”

  “Both!”

  “What’s going on?” Con demanded.

  “Um, there was some kind of mix up and Felix left his money in the hotel room. It’s under the desk. Can you bring it with, um, yours?” She waited for Con to feed her information, tip her off as to how he wanted to play this.

  “Where are you?” he asked again.

  “No police,” Felix said.

  “No police, okay, Con?”

  “Sure. Now where—”

  “Your life is on the line,” Felix added.

  “My life is on the line.” She tried not to sound too bored. “Can I trust you on this one, Con?”

  “Absolutely. Now where the fuck are you?”

  “The health mine.”

  He hung up.

  She hid a smile.

  * * *

  When the call came from Renny, only Con, Spencer and Laila were still in the suite. Jacob had gone outside to check the grounds for her. Perry had gone with him, planning to ask the bell desk for a description of the man who’d coaxed Renny to leave. Spencer watched Con hang up and fly out of the suite. Laila flew out right behind him, running down the hall in the opposite direction. Spencer ran after her.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I need my notes!”

  He halted halfway down the hall, stunned.

  Renny’s life was on the line and Laila was going after her story. She really was a cold bitch and he was a fool. Well, he wasn’t going to sideline himself this time. No matter how interesting the rest of the world might find Con’s suffering, they could damn well get by without it.

  He caught up to her at the door to the room she was using. She had it propped open with her shoulder while she scrambled for a better grip on the papers she’d gathered. She held out a hand to Murphy. “I need the keys to the van, too.”

  Murphy was patting his pockets like he was on fire. “Con must still have them.”

  “Damn! How will I—”

  “Get to Salt Lake City in time to exploit the Prince of Play losing his girlfriend to a kidnapper?” Spencer ground out. “Enough already. You’re not doing that to him again. I should have stopped you last time. This time, I will.”

  Her anxious expression dissolved into one of profound hurt. “I’m going to the police with all of this.”

  “Oh.” What else could he say with his size twelve stuffed in his mouth that deep? Except maybe, “They told Con not to contact the police.”

  “Every kidnapper says, ‘Don’t contact the police.’” Glancing at Murphy, who was crouched down looking under the sofa, she said, “Forget it. I’ll take a taxi.”

  “Call Perry to order one,” Spencer said to Murphy and jogged with Laila toward the stairs. She didn’t say anything as they clattered down them and neither did he.

  The Spitfire pulled up to the curb as they ran out of the hotel. Perry jumped out, shouting directions to the police station as they jumped in. Laila clung to her notes as Spencer pulled away.

  10:22 p.m.

  Despite not fearing Felix, Renny’s heart dropped when she saw the white Montana Minutes van pull into the parking lot of the health mine, but it was Con.

  He left the engine running as he dropped to the ground and strode toward them. Before Felix had climbed from his car, Con had opened two briefcases on the hood.

  Renny leaned toward the center of the car so she could see around Sergio’s bulk, wondering if a SWAT team would swarm out of the van or if Con had handcuffs in the briefcases.

  Apparently not. Felix inspected the contents of the cases and nodded at Sergio.

  Sergio opened the door and heaved himself out. Dragging the seat forward, he reached in to help Renny.

  Wordlessly, Con snatched her hand out of Sergio’s and tugged her across the gravel parking lot toward the van.

  “What was in the cases?” she asked in a low voice.

  “Money.”

  “All of it?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “So what’s your plan?” she asked under her breath, glancing over her shoulder. “Are the police in the van?”

  Felix struggled to fit the cases in the back seat while Sergio looked at his watch.

  “No.” Con boosted her through the driver’s door and crowded behind her. “He said not to call the police.”

  “So what? You came with a plan anyway, didn’t you?” She flopped into the passenger seat.

  “Yeah. Save your life.” He slammed the door and yanked the van into reverse, spraying gravel as he gunned the van out of the parking lot.

  “You gave him all the money? His and your own? That was your plan?” Her voice rose.

  “Uh huh. Put your seatbelt on.”

  “Con, you didn’t. Not really. Tell me how this is going to play out. I need to know.”

  “You and I go one direction, Felix goes the other and he never gets his hands on you again.”

  “And the money?”

  Con shrugged.

  “Stop. I didn’t go through everything I’ve gone through today to lose Felix and the money.” She looked backward. She could still see Felix’s headlights.

  “You sa
id your life was on the line.”

  “I was just repeating what he told me to say! He didn’t even have a gun. It was the insert for a toilet paper dispenser, for crying out loud!”

  “Sergio was there. You didn’t tell me that on the phone. He could kill you with his bare hands and not break a sweat.”

  “Felix is a coward and Sergio is harmless. He was just making sure Felix didn’t leave without paying back Ty.”

  “Whatever. I don’t want you near those guys and now you’re not.”

  “I don’t believe this!”

  * * *

  When they climbed out of the van in the hotel parking lot, Con tilted his head to look at the sky. It was so clear he could see extra stars in the constellations he recognized. But a clear sky in the mountains meant low temperatures and Renny didn’t have a jacket, only the skimpy dress she’d been wearing all day. She shivered. He admired the glow of moonlight on her shoulders before cuddling her into his side. It was a cool but beautiful night, the kind where a man wanted an excuse to slip his arm around a woman. Even one who wasn’t the least bit grateful he had saved her life.

  Con figured he’d owed her a chance to vent, but she wasn’t winding down and he’d hit the end of his patience. “Are you done yet?”

  “Well, honestly, Con.” She scooted into the warmth of the hotel lobby. “I thought the whole point of coming here was to get your gran’s money back. You did it. You had the money in your hand. Then you gave it away. And gave Felix an extra fifty and let him go. Again! Excuse me for being disappointed.”

  “Hey, you’re back!” Murphy stood with Perry at the concierge desk. “What happened? Can I tell Laila everything’s okay?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Keys?” Murphy called to his back.

  Con spun, sent the van keys in an underhand toss to Murphy and escorted Renny into the first elevator.

  It was crowded with people wearing sloppy grins, suggesting they had enjoyed the martini specials at the hotel bar.

  “Where did you get that lame plan, anyway? The pot-head cameraman? I expected better of you,” Renny muttered.

  “Like what?” he asked with irritation. “Because I’m having trouble figuring out what your expectations are. Do you want me to be sensible or a super-hero?”

  “Marital problems?” one of the strangers asked. He offered his card. “I’m a thamily ferapist.”

  Renny plucked the card out of the man’s hand and smiled a dismissing thanks. She turned to Con. “I expect you to be what you are: a man who finds a way to win.”

  “I did win. You’re still alive.”

  “Trauma survivor?” A woman dug in her purse.

  Renny accepted another card with another stiff smile.

  The elevator stopped, but no one left. The doors shut and it began to rise again.

  “So I’m alive,” Renny said. “Big deal! How am I supposed to live with this kind of failure?”

  “Depression,” the group agreed with a nodding of heads. Several people reached for pockets and purses.

  “I don’t need help. I know what I’m dealing with,” Renny insisted, refusing the cards. Con took them, amused by the group.

  Breathing deeply, Renny faced him. “What I’m saying is, I know you have to be one step ahead all the time, that it gives you a sense of control. I’ve figured out how to live with that aspect of your personality—”

  “Co-dependent. That’s you, Charlotte.”

  “Oh, right.” The elevator stopped as the woman extracted her card.

  Renny snatched it and held the door, shooing all the people off the elevator.

  “But I’m three floors up,” a heavyset man complained.

  “Ask one of your friends to help you get over it.” Renny pressed the button to close the doors and leaned into the wall, scowling at the red dots on her inner wrist.

  Con took her hand, frowning at her marred skin.

  “Authority figures give me hives,” she explained.

  “That explains your rash behavior.”

  “It’s not funny.”

  It was, but she obviously needed help to laugh about it. Handing her a couple of the business cards he still held, he fanned out the ones he’d kept.

  “I’ve got a pair of substance abuse counselors,” he said in an inviting tone.

  She let her eyelids droop in disdain, like she was going to ignore him.

  “Can’t beat it? Too bad,” he mused.

  She peeked at her cards. “Three family therapists. I win.”

  “Wait. I’ve got a child welfare. That’s like an ace.”

  “Is that how we’re playing? ’Cause I’ve got an aroma therapist, which would be a joker.”

  “You do not. Tell me you’ve got a sex therapist and I’ll fold.”

  She showed him a card. “Trauma. Same thing.”

  They both laughed. He couldn’t wait any longer and pulled her close to kiss her. It was heaven.

  The elevator stopped.

  “Focus, you meathead,” she said against his lips, and tugged him off the elevator. When she would have walked to the suite door, he held her back and kissed her again, properly, relearning the shape of her lips and the scent of her skin, trailing his mouth down her neck and leaving tiny marks because, dammit, he’d almost lost her.

  “Con, we can’t do this,” she gasped, but she roamed her hands all over him.

  It was so good to have her back. “If you’re worried I’m impotent, you should know it was just a nasty rumor started by an old girlfriend.”

  She pushed away and held up her left hand where Jacob’s ring twinkled.

  “What the hell is that doing there? Give it.” He made a grab, but she walked backward to the suite. “Okay, I can see why you’d rather be with a guy who doesn’t get you kidnapped, but tell me anyway that you’re not going to marry him.”

  “Sergio admired this ring. I thought he was going to take it, but he only wanted to know where Jacob had bought it. He wants one for his wife. Isn’t that funny?” She motioned for him to open the door.

  “Hysterical. You’re not marrying him.” He tapped his keycard on the device and pushed the door inward, holding it for her.

  “Believe it or not, you’re not the boss of—oh, God.” Renny halted.

  Inside the suite, Tyrone held a gun on Jacob.

  * * *

  Renny followed directions from the well-dressed man with all the gold chains and sat down on the sofa between Con and Jacob. She took Jacob’s hand. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.” He wore his pants, but his shirt was buttoned crooked. He smiled tightly. “More of Con’s world, right?”

  “’fraid so, but don’t worry. In a minute Con will squeeze into his blue tights and save us all.”

  “See? You have unrealistic expectations of me.”

  “I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

  “’Course, I always thought it would be more along the lines of asking me to keep regular hours and carry an umbrella in case it rains,” he allowed.

  “What gave you the impression I wanted to change you?”

  “You wanted me to settle down and get married.”

  “I never used the words ‘settle down.’” She kicked off her shoes and leaned back to smile at the man. “Tyrone, I assume?”

  He gave her a little nod of acknowledgment.

  What was he buying? she wondered.

  “I thought it was you and Con coming back when he knocked, so I opened the door,” Jacob said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Not a problem. Has he hurt you?” Renny asked.

  “Not at all. Just . . . the gun makes me nervous.”

  “Mmm. How did you find our room?” Renny asked Tyrone.

  “Your, uh,” he looked with confusion at her hand clasped in Jacob’s. “Mr. Burke was kind enough to call my office earlier today and leave the number.”

  “Good on you, sweetheart.” Renny patted Con’s knee.

  “Be nice. Ty, you told me you were
n’t in the kidnapping game,” Con said.

  “That was before.”

  “You said you were a perfectly legitimate businessman.”

  “Hey, I’m trying. I thought about walking away from the money, but it’s a matter of respect. I can’t let you and Felix get the better of me.” Tyrone wiped his sleeve across his forehead. “I’m not happy with the way things have turned out today.”

  “I hear that,” Renny said heavily, but she was thinking about possibilities. The successful con artist understood that marks bought into a scam for one reason only: emotional satisfaction. Whether they thought they were doing a good deed or getting a good deal, they came away feeling better about themselves. That’s why they fell so hard when they realized they’d been stung.

  Tyrone might still be looking for that initial high. His cellphone rang.

  Tyrone answered. “Yeah. You’ve checked it? Good. Where? Hell, Felix, I want my money, not a friggin’ manicure. Is it even open? I don’t care how discreet they are, it better not be crawling with people. Yeah, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He hung up. “I’m going to need a hostage so you don’t call the police.” He looked at Renny.

  She looked at Con.

  Con pointed at Jacob. “Take him.”

  “Con!” Renny knocked his hand down. “Jacob has nothing to do with this.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want Ty to take you and I don’t want you left alone with Jake.”

  “It’s all right,” Jacob said, standing and lifting his chin. “I’m her fiancé. I’ll do anything to protect her.”

  “Reminds me of The Last of the Mohicans,” Con said. “I’m impressed, Jake.”

  “Forget it.” Renny stood. “Jacob can’t—”

  Con jerked her back onto the sofa beside him. “Away you go,” he said to Jacob.

  “Con, let me go.”

  “All right, all right, I’ll go,” Con said. “But don’t marry him before I get back.”

  “No, I want to do it,” Renny said. Her heart rate picked up as she began looking ahead, the way Con did, to four, five, six moves down the board.

  “Never.”

  “Please.” She winked.

  “Keep dreaming.”

  “I’m losing patience. The girl comes with me so I don’t have to shoot anyone who thinks he can be a hero.” Ty swung the gun between the men.

 

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