The Journalist's Prince (The Royal Wedding Book 6)

by Merry Farmer

  “You don’t know Marina like I do.” Johan raised his voice, taking a half step toward her.

  “Yeah? And you don’t know my father.”

  She had come close to shouting, and as a result, the air crackled with tension.

  Johan frowned. “What about your father? What does he have to do with anything?”

  Tracy let out a defeated breath and turned away. She marched deeper into the apartment’s small, front room. The last thing she wanted to think about that night—or ever again—was her past. But it was clear to her that Johan was never going to see her side of things if she didn’t spill the beans.

  “My father was arrested for drug trafficking when I was eleven years old,” she muttered, facing away from him, half hoping he wouldn’t hear and they could forget the whole thing.

  She felt him take a step toward her. “You never said anything about him before. I thought you were from a normal, middle-class, suburban family back in the States.”

  She let out an ironic laugh and turned to him. “I am from a middle-class, suburban family. But after all that happened, I found out just how far from normal we were.”

  He didn’t say anything, merely studied her with concern.

  “None of us knew anything about what he was doing,” she said with a sigh. “He told us he was in a bowling league. I think he picked bowling because he knew it was the last thing Mom would be interested in going to watch. But it turned out that instead of going to the bowling alley on Tuesday nights, he headed over to his buddy Griff’s place in the next county, where they made meth.”

  Johan let out a tight breath, shaking his head. At least he looked sympathetic for her sake.

  “None of us ever questioned where the money came from because he had a good job. He worked for a pharmaceutical company, ironically enough. We had a great house, nice cars, family vacations every summer. I always got the latest, trendy toys for my birthday and Christmas. And he put aside a huge amount for my college fund and funds for my siblings. But after his conviction….” She shrugged, the pain of those days weighing heavily on her heart. “The Feds seized it all. Everything. Even the house and our cars.”

  “I’m sorry,” Johan said, moving closer to her.

  She wanted so badly to fall into the comfort of his arms, but not when he was trying to take away what little power she had by leaving her behind in the present investigation.

  “We struggled,” she went on. “I struggled. I became obsessed with uncovering the truth of what happened, to see if I could prove that the cops were wrong and Dad was innocent so that we could get our life back. That’s what led me into investigative journalism. But all I found was that everything the cops said was right. Dad was as guilty as they accused him of being.”

  “But you survived,” Johan said. “You got that job with Fuchsia, and you’re here now.”

  “By taking risks,” she said with renewed energy. “By not sitting casually by and accepting the way things were. I busted my ass to get top grades and win a scholarship to college. I worked part-time jobs to pay for extras even after getting that scholarship. People told me that was a risk and that I would lose my scholarship if I didn’t focus on studies, but I didn’t. I graduated with honors. I’ve won awards for investigative reporting by taking risks other journalists wouldn’t. I owe everything I am to the risks I take.”

  In the course of her explanation, her temper rose, and as it did, Johan’s body language hinted that he’d gone back on the defensive.

  “I admire you for everything you’ve accomplished,” he said. “But that doesn’t change what’s going on right now. Lindqvist’s dogs are the least of what we might run into tonight. I’m not willing to put you in danger if I know you’ll only make the danger worse.”

  “It’s not up to you to say what I can or can’t do,” she argued.

  “It is,” he insisted. “I don’t want you in danger, and I don’t want you to get hurt, because I love you too much. It would kill me if something happened to you.”

  Tracy’s mouth was already open to protest, but she snapped it shut and blinked. He loved her? She had felt it on a visceral level for a while, but to hear him say it was something else.

  The first flush of warmth at his declaration quickly melted to indignation, though.

  “What a crappy time to tell me something like that,” she snapped at him. “You can’t just throw love around as a way to convince me to sit on my ass and do nothing when you need my help.”

  “Tracy—”

  “Because I love you too, you asshole. You’re stable and you’re brave and noble. Why else do you think I’m taking all these risks?”

  He gaped at her, indignation flaring in his expression. At least now he understood how rotten it was to tell someone you loved them for the first time in the middle of an argument.

  “This whole thing is family business,” he said. “The family will take care of it. I won’t let you get hurt for our sake.”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Did you not hear me say I love you three seconds ago?”

  “I did.”

  “Your family is the kind of family I want to have,” she insisted. “I want to help you.”

  He rubbed his forehead. “I know, but—”

  “No buts. I’m going to help you in this. You can’t stop me.”

  “I can and I will.”

  His face was a mask of stubbornness. In a strange way, it warmed Tracy’s heart and sent unwelcome swirls of desire through her. With everything she’d been through, she’d never really felt like anyone had her back in quite the way Johan did. But what should have felt great left her cold.

  “For the last time, I am going to help you get to the bottom of this,” she said.

  “And for the last time, I love you too much to let you risk your neck. So until you can rein it in and play it safe—” He finished his sentence by moving in, slipping his arms around her, and kissing her thoroughly.

  There was something in the command of his embrace that left her weak in the knees. Johan was an amazing kisser, and his skills didn’t diminish at all in the middle of a fight. Her body flared to life, craving more of him in spite of her brain’s objections. She broke out in aches and tingles, breathless and wanton. Her mouth melded with his, and she kissed him as hungrily as he kissed her.

  Until he stepped back, his face hardening to a frown. “Stay here,” he said. “I promise, I’ll keep in touch with you and let you know everything that’s going on.” He turned and marched toward the door.

  “No,” she protested, following him. “I’m not letting you do this without me.”

  He pivoted at the door to face her. “You don’t have a choice. You’re not coming with me.”

  He pulled open the door and stepped out into the dark. The only way she could have stopped him was to grab hold of him and physically drag him back inside, but she wasn’t willing to resort to theatrics like that. Instead, she watched him march back to his car and get in. Within seconds, he had started the engine and peeled out of the parking lot.

  Frustrated, Tracy slammed the door and stomped into the center of her front room, growling. One, brief moment of helplessness threatened her before she took a deep breath.

  “You’re not getting away with this,” she hissed, then turned to march into her bedroom.

  She plugged in her phone to charge while she changed clothes. There was more than one way to skin a cat. If Johan wouldn’t let her help him directly, she’d find another way, risk or no risk. She’d made more than a few contacts in the journalistic world of Aegiria, and even though they were all new connections, she wasn’t afraid to call on them. She’d get to the bottom of things, find out what she could about Storm Holdings, oil rigs, and Earl Lindqvist. Someone had to know something. And when she found out what her contacts knew, she’d set off on her own to find Marina if she had to.

  7

  Johan’s mood continued to sour after he left Tracy’s apartment. He hated fighting with
anyone, and doubly hated fighting with her. But what had his jaw clenched so hard his teeth hurt and made his knuckles white on the steering wheel was how he fought with himself. One minute he was convinced that dumping Tracy at home was the right thing to do. The next he wondered whether he was blowing things out of proportion. The whole investigation was easier to bear when she was with him.

  He hadn’t found anything at the marina. Or rather, the marina had seen busier than usual traffic that evening, since so many people were off work to celebrate the royal wedding. Dozens of crafts of all sizes had set out into the bay to enjoy picnics on the water and the fireworks that the royal family had sponsored after dark. None of the harbormasters could say for sure if they’d seen anyone fitting Marina or Lindqvist’s descriptions slipping away in the middle of the festivities.

  Johan had a bad feeling his aunt and Lindqvist had planned it that way. By the time he pulled into the palace parking garage—his sense of déjà vu deepening as he pulled into his space and cut his engine yet again—he was exhausted, out of sorts, and had a headache forming behind his eyes. He was ready for the whole fiasco to be over, not so much so that the royal family could deal with the inevitable scandal and move on, but so that he could make things right with Tracy.

  The vast apartment that made up the family’s central living area was lit up and as busy as the middle of the day when Johan got there. Arne and Emma had the tv on and were channel-surfing, possibly on the look-out for any report about Lindqvist or Marina. Kristoff sat on the other sofa facing the tv, Cassandra asleep with her head in his lap. Alek and Toni were nowhere to be found. Viggo had sent him a text earlier, saying that he’d taken Stefan home and that Marcia was at Lindqvist’s house, assisting the police.

  Johan tried to take a quick, much-needed nap. But even though he was utterly worn-out, he only managed to catch the bare minimum of rest. As soon as he was awake, he headed straight for the kitchen. He needed coffee if he was going to keep going the way he had been. As soon as he rounded the corner into the brightly-lit room, he found Mack and Gloria leaning against the counter, murmuring to each other.

  “Johan.” Mack straightened immediately to greet him. He paused, then said, “Where’s Tracy?”

  “I took her home,” Johan mumbled. He pushed past his brother to the far counter, where a pot of coffee was already brewed and keeping warm. Without looking at either Mack or Gloria—who he could feel watching him—he opened the cupboard and took out a mug.

  There was a long silence before Mack went on. “Did you find anything at the marina?”

  Johan went through all the motions of fixing his coffee before turning to them to say, “No. Not unless you consider the fact that half of Solrighavn is out on their boats celebrating the wedding as finding out anything.”

  “They could have slipped through without anyone noticing,” Gloria said with a frown.

  “Exactly.” Johan took a long draught of black coffee before facing the two of them fully. “But if they did escape by sea, they didn’t use any of the royal vessels or anything owned by Lindqvist. They’re all still moored.”

  “That’s something positive,” Gloria said, glancing to Mack.

  “They didn’t leave by air either,” Mack said. “The airport double-checked everything, and we’ve got a trusted insider going through all the surveillance tape just to be sure.”

  “And Carl Gustavson confirms that no flights took off from the air force training field either,” Gloria added.

  “So that means either Aunt Marina and Lindqvist are still in Aegiria or they snuck out by sea,” Mack concluded.

  “What’s going on in here?” Viggo asked as he strode into the kitchen.

  Johan was so happy to see his twin that he actually smiled for a second. “Aunt Marina didn’t leave Aegiria by sea or by air,” he reported.

  “We’ve double-checked,” Mack said, then repeated everything he, Gloria, and Johan had just hashed out.

  Johan tuned out for a second, sipping his coffee and feeling as though the bitter taste was a reflection of his inconvenient emotions. He should have been focused on the investigation, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Tracy.

  He hadn’t known about her past. She’d barely mentioned her family before. If he’d known about her father’s criminal record…well, it wouldn’t have made a difference in the way he felt about her. But it did explain a lot of her behavior. Just because there was a reason she was so doggedly determined to uncover whatever information needed uncovering didn’t mean he could forgive her for being reckless, though.

  He replayed the way the dogs had come after them at Lindqvist’s house, only his imagination played out what would have happened if she hadn’t been fast enough. He saw blood, heard screams of pain, snarls and snaps from the dogs. He would have been helpless to do anything to stop her from being hurt.

  He couldn’t accept that. He loved her. And even though he’d been clumsy about telling her, it didn’t change the fact that he would have moved heaven and earth to keep her out of harm’s way. But that voice in his head—the one that had been nagging him since he’d walked away from her over an hour ago—whispered that it wasn’t up to him to tell her how to stay safe. He had a feeling she’d gone through more hell than she’d let on with her dad, which meant she could take care of herself. But that didn’t make it easy to swallow.

  “Is something wrong?” Viggo asked.

  Johan blinked out of his thoughts. “Hmm?”

  Gloria looked oddly relieved. “We thought we’d lost you there.”

  Mack nodded in agreement.

  “Sorry. I was thinking about something else,” Johan said.

  “I hope it was good.” Viggo sent him a brief, teasing grin

  “Not really.” Johan finished his coffee and took a breath. Before anyone could ask what was eating at him, he went on with, “Okay, let’s assume Marina and Lindqvist are trying to get away right now. Where would they go?”

  Mack and Gloria were quick to get down to business.

  “They would have to leave the country,” Mack said. “Aegiria is too small for them to go undetected for long.”

  “Does Aegiria have particularly friendly relations with any of its neighbors?” Gloria asked.

  “We have excellent relations with everyone in the area,” Viggo said. “Sweden, Denmark, Germany. Everyone.”

  “Which means they wouldn’t go there,” Johan said. The coffee was already doing its job and helping him to think. “Any of those countries would know to arrest them the second they set foot on their soil.”

  “I think that’s what Alek is doing right now,” Mack said. “The Aegirian police are giving us until tomorrow morning, but he wanted to put out an international alert for this very reason.”

  “So if Marina and Lindqvist did set out by sea, and if they can’t land in any of the neighboring countries, where would they go?”

  “If it were me,” Mack said, “I would either head for Russia or stay out at sea and hope I went undetected.”

  “But we know they didn’t take any of the bigger yachts,” Johan said. “At least, none that we know about.” He shifted his weight. “The harbormaster will have a record of everything moored in Solrighavn, but there aren’t that many vessels big enough to sustain a long time at sea.”

  “What if they don’t plan to stay on a boat?” Gloria asked, a zip of excitement in her eyes. “What if they only needed to take a small boat out to something bigger?”

  “Like a yacht that was already anchored at sea?” Mack asked.

  “Or an oil rig.” Gloria reached for Mack’s arm, her eyes lighting up. “Remember that oil rig we spotted from the air when Carl took us out in the Reliant?”

  Mack stood straighter, a smile spreading across his face. “The one that none of us thought should be there?”

  “Wait, there’s an oil rig out there somewhere that shouldn’t be there?” Johan was on the alert now too.

  “I was showing Gloria some of the shipping
routes and fishing waters from the air,” Mack said. “I dismissed that rig because there are so many out there. But it didn’t sit right with me.”

  “An entire oil rig out at sea that no one knows about?” Viggo frowned. “That doesn’t sound likely. Those things aren’t exactly easy to hide.”

  “There are also plenty of old rigs out there that no one uses anymore but that haven’t been dismantled,” Mack went on. “If it was marked as inactive, then it could have been forgotten.”

  Gloria reached into her pocket, bringing out her phone. “I made a note of the coordinates in my phone.”

  Johan pulled out his phone, then moved to stand beside Gloria so that he could record the coordinates for himself. “I still say it’s a long-shot, but there are too many details that keep popping up for it all to be random.”

  “Are you talking about Storm Holdings?” Mack asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “They found all those papers when they went to search Marina’s apartment again. Aunt Marina sure does have a lot of information about how that company works.”

  “Does she?” Johan wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or excited. If Tracy had been there, he was sure he would have felt a thrill at one more set of details falling into line. But the information rang hollow without her, and the investigation felt more like a painful chore.

  “It’s not looking good for Marina,” Mack said.

  Johan blew out a breath and rubbed a hand over his face. “All right. Do you mind if I take your Marex out to these coordinates to take a look at that rig?”

  “You’re going to storm an oil rig by yourself?” Johan stared at him in shock.

  “Absolutely not,” Johan answered. “I just want to get a look at it. If it needs storming, I’ll call in the police.”

  “Sounds like a good idea to me,” Mack said. “I’ll get you the keys.”

  The two of them moved into action, leaving the kitchen.

  “I’ll stay here, if you don’t mind,” Gloria called after them. “I have some stuff to take care of.”