Gunning for the Groom

by Debra Webb

  “What did you find?” Aidan willed her to stop pacing and look at him. It was hard enough to concentrate right now without the distraction of her tantalizing body and cascading hair. “Frankie.”

  She stopped short. “I found travel documents buried in the corporate organization files. They show Mom and Paul returning from Europe the day my unit was attacked. The statement filed in my father’s treason case listed her in DC on those days.”

  “Where were the documents?”

  “Archived on the main server.”

  “You know that can be faked.”

  She nodded. “Her trips to see me in Bethesda and Atlanta were there, too. I couldn’t see any difference. I copied everything for you to review.”

  “Thanks,” he said, watching her place the drive on the table as if it might explode at any second. “I found something today, too.”

  “Tell me. I have to know, Aidan.”

  Hearing the pain in her voice, he cleared his throat, wishing he’d had a better choice. “I found Lennox’s trail and a charter flight record signed with Sophia’s signature stamp. I’d planned to work on it more tonight.”

  “That’s it. I’m going over there right now.”

  He shook his head, dreading what he needed to say. “No.” How did he tell her it was too late? “You can’t confront Sophia tonight or tomorrow. I sent everything we’ve gathered to Victoria. She’ll take it to the right people for confirmation.”

  “You did what?”

  He watched shock and hurt twist Frankie’s beautiful features. He knew she felt betrayed, and with good reason. When he’d walked her through his investigation early this morning, he promised to share everything with her first. “I’m sorry. I was still in the car and I didn’t want to take a chance that Paul would finish me off before I reached the hospital.”

  “Paul?”

  Aidan nodded. “I’m sure that’s really why he invited me to dinner tonight. My investigation was getting too close. He had to act.”

  She was on her feet again. “Were they working together? Why did they need to get my dad out of the way?”

  “I don’t have those answers yet. Victoria—”

  Frankie spun around, her long hair fanning out and then settling over her shoulders as the anger returned in a rush. “This was my fight, Aidan. Sophia won’t ever be honest with me now.”

  Aidan felt as if he’d taken a punch to the gut. He’d blown it. Not with the case; he’d done the right thing as an investigator. When she calmed down, maybe by the turn of the next century, Frankie would see that, too.

  But he’d done it the wrong way for her. Frankie’s quest might have looked like vengeance days ago, but he knew better now. He knew her better. Frankie was a woman trying to reconcile inconceivable events for the brokenhearted little girl she kept locked away inside. Her father had been her hero. The charges, verdict and suicide were irrelevant. Her mother had been her anchor, the one constant in her life.

  Hell, logic and justice were irrelevant at this point. She just wanted to hear the whole story, to understand, if that was possible. She’d never be satisfied, never move forward until she had the truth. And now she’d never trust him enough to give him a chance to share that life.

  “I—I’m going out,” she said, starting for the door.

  Aidan pushed himself to his feet and the room did a slow spin. “Frankie, wait.” He couldn’t let her leave. Not upset, not alone.

  She shook her head. “I can’t stay here with you,” she said over her shoulder. “I can’t trust you.”

  The words slid through him like one of her lethal knives. The bullet hadn’t caused him this much pain. “It’s too dangerous. You’re a target.” They just couldn’t be sure about the method of the next attack.

  Her shoulders rolled back, her spine ramrod straight. “I can take care of myself, Mr. Abbot. You should ask Victoria to check in on you per the concussion protocol.”

  He swore as Frankie left the room, the door closing with a heavy clack. He wanted to follow her, but with him in this condition she’d easily outpace him. Damned concussion. He wouldn’t leave her safety to chance, not after all that had happened. There had to be something he could do, someone he could call to keep an eye on her. Who could he trust?

  He stared helplessly at his cell phone. He trusted Frankie. She was the only person in the city he felt he could count on. No one else was worth the risk. Aidan swore again and called her number, praying she’d pick up.

  Naturally she didn’t. The woman had a temper and this time he couldn’t blame her. He’d promised to bring everything to her first and he’d meant to. But he’d mentally applied a caveat that he would bypass her if it kept her out of harm’s way.

  “How’s that working out for you, Abbot?” The answering silence felt like judge and jury.

  Aidan used the app on his cell phone to verify that the GPS on her cell was active and working. When the location came back that she hadn’t left the hotel, he breathed a sigh of relief. Assuming she hadn’t tossed the device into the trash on her way out the door.

  He’d screwed this up beyond all recognition. He could make it right. Ignoring the headache and vertigo, he booted up his laptop and grabbed her flash drive.

  She wanted answers? He’d find them, to hell with caution. He did a quick calculation of the time difference as he sorted through the files. One by one, he sent her findings on Sophia and his research of Paul on to an old friend at Interpol. With any luck, an objective opinion would shed some light on what he and Frankie were too close to see.

  Whether she could forgive him or not for breaking her trust was another question entirely. Aidan sighed. That answer would have to come later and most likely after much groveling.

  He smiled. If it worked, if he won her trust, it would all be worth it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Frankie knew Aidan had done the right thing. Though she hated giving in to his safety warning, she went only as far as the hotel bar. She nursed her beer, trying to sort out this ridiculous mess. In his place, targeted by a sniper and sitting next to a potential enemy, she would’ve done the same thing. Understanding his choice wasn’t the same as approving it. Who was she kidding? Holding a grudge against her only ally wouldn’t help her unveil the truth.

  Ally. What a crock. He’d become far more important than that. Shutting Aidan down only made her stubborn. She ordered a second beer while she figured out her next step with the man and the situation.

  She signed the bar tab at the last possible moment and trudged back upstairs. It wasn’t safe to leave him alone, no matter how mild the concussion. He was asleep when she walked in, but she could tell he’d tried to work, because his computer was still on and open. She walked over and shook his shoulder, asking him a few standard questions about the day, his name and hers. Satisfied with the answers, she let him drift off to sleep once more.

  What a difference twenty-four hours could make. After she was attacked they’d wound up in that bed. Hot. Naked. Together. Her pulse leaped into overdrive at the recollection.

  It had been more than wonderful how he’d held her, scars and all. She would savor the memory once they finished here and went their separate ways. Taking a pillow and the extra blanket from the closet, she curled into the lumpy chair to get some rest.

  Thursday, April 14, 6:00 a.m.

  SHE WOKE TO the sound of her cell phone buzzing near her pillow. It was too early for an alarm, but she was wide-awake when she saw the text message. Her mother wanted her to come to the house, alone, to clear the air. This wasn’t a talk for the office. Sophia had definitely figured out the happily engaged, prodigal daughter routine was an act.

  Answers at last. Rolling to her back, Frankie sent a quick affirmative reply.

  Last night Aidan’s decision about the case had felt like a
kick in the teeth. Now it might just be her ace in the hole. It was small comfort that if she and Aidan did wind up dead, the Colby Agency could pursue their killer.

  Quietly, she showered and dressed, simultaneously pleased and worried that Aidan slept through it. She roused him just enough for the concussion protocol before leaving him a note about the message from her mother. If Sophia was ready to talk about Frank Leone’s downfall, Frankie certainly wasn’t going to ignore the summons.

  She took the rental car and drove out to Queen Anne, enjoying the lack of traffic at this early hour. She parked at the curb and gave herself a moment to breathe. Which Sophia would be waiting for her, the mother who was eager to salvage a relationship or the professional analyst with layer upon layer of secrets? That was the crux; Frankie didn’t know which mom to trust, only which mom she wanted to believe.

  The front door opened and her mother hovered in the doorway, the smile on her face loaded with tension. Like mother, like daughter, Frankie thought, climbing out of the car. She ignored the catch in her back as she mounted the steps, taking her time so she wouldn’t reveal any weakness.

  As Frankie reached the porch, Sophia moved as if to hug her, then jerked back. Apparently she didn’t know which woman to be in the moment any more than Frankie did. “I made tea,” Sophia said, inviting her inside.

  The door closed with a bang and Frankie spun around in time to see Paul throwing the lock. “What are you doing here?”

  “Think of me as a mediator,” he said.

  Something in his smooth voice made Frankie’s skin crawl. “This conversation doesn’t concern you.” She shot a look at her mother, but Sophia only gave a small shake of her head and a look that told her not to argue. But the days of her blindly obeying her mom were long gone. “What the hell is going on?”

  “It does concern me,” Paul said, giving her a shove into the kitchen. “You wanted answers, Frankie. I have them.” He pulled a gun from his back and a silencer from his pocket, slowly mating the two pieces. “Not that you’ll get much time to enjoy the truth.”

  “You said you loved me.” Sophia stared him down, her voice hard as steel. “Prove it. Let her go.”

  “I loved you once.” Paul shoved Frankie into a kitchen chair. “You told me you were giving Frankie space and the next thing I know she winds up in the heart of the company,” he countered, his voice rising before he regained control. “With full access. You pushed me into this corner. Now I’m cashing out.”

  “I don’t care about the company,” Frankie said, trying to distract him, to get him away from her mom.

  “No one does,” he announced. “Not like I do.”

  “Paul, think about what you’re doing,” Sophia pleaded.

  His gaze shifted from Sophia to Frankie and back. “I’ve thought it all through. I’ve exhausted the options. We’ll have a tidy double homicide, capped with a suicide.”

  A cold shiver raced down Frankie’s back. The hardware in her spine made it worse, driving that chill into her bones. “Leave Aidan out of it.” She couldn’t bear to know her case had killed him.

  “You are clever,” Paul said with obvious approval. “But you’re weak.” He tapped Sophia’s shoulder with the silencer. “When I realized you wouldn’t see things my way, I knew it was time to make my move.”

  “See what your way?” Sophia’s voice was quiet, urgent. “We’re partners! What are you doing?”

  “You’ve blocked me at every turn, darling. It’s time for the overseas expansion—”

  “The company isn’t ready for that,” Sophia interrupted.

  Paul gestured with the gun and rolled his eyes. “See what I’m up against? The point is, Frankie, I had to do something after she met with Legal and changed the ownership so you had a say in whatever moves we made as a company.”

  “You did that?” Frankie couldn’t believe it. “When were you going to tell me?”

  “When I was sure you wouldn’t consider it an emotional bribe,” Sophia admitted.

  A few more pieces clicked into place. She glanced at Paul. “You couldn’t kill her until she changed the legalities back in your favor.”

  “Or unless you die, too.”

  “You used her,” Sophia said through gritted teeth. “You bastard.”

  Frankie gasped, horrified that his plan had nearly worked.

  Paul shrugged. “A man’s entitled to hope for an easy road once in a while.”

  Frankie’s stomach twisted. As Aidan and Victoria had feared, she’d been played, from the moment Lennox showed up in Savannah. “You tampered with her statement. Made sure I saw it. The false passports, the safe-deposit box. Everything was a setup to prod a move out of me.”

  Paul stepped close to her, his eyes sharp and mean. “You wanted to believe the worst of your mother, a woman who’s done nothing but agonize over your distance. It was easy enough to get you out here, wasn’t it?” He paced away, turning back before Frankie could make a move. “You idolized your father. It was so easy. You latched on to the ‘evidence’ against her like a dog with a bone.”

  An ugly image, but she couldn’t argue with the truth of it. “You sent me on a wild-goose chase.”

  “So predictable,” he said with a sneer. “I had to do something when I caught her watching your career in Savannah.”

  “Of course I watched her career,” Sophia snapped, tears spilling down her cheeks. “She’s my daughter.”

  Paul shook his head. “Women are soft. Shortsighted. Family and sentiment have no place in business. Trust me, Sophia, I will take good care of Leo Solutions.”

  Sophia swore at him. “It was never your dream.”

  Frankie looked at her mother and didn’t see anything that resembled soft right now. Her face was set with a grim determination, and Frankie knew she was looking for a way to get them out of this.

  “You set up my dad,” she guessed, trying to keep Paul talking while she racked her brain for the right maneuver. “You insinuated yourself into a place that should’ve been his.”

  “He got himself into that mess. I just made sure the pieces fell where I could pick them up.” Paul gave a sharp bark of bitter laughter. “You should’ve been mine all along.” He sneered at Sophia. “Frank stole you from me. I waited a very long time to take him out of the picture and reclaim what belonged to me.”

  Sophia’s eyes went wide. “You blew that operation and pinned it on Frank?” She leaped forward and slapped Paul across the cheek, leaving a red handprint behind. “Innocent people died that day.”

  Frankie felt equally blindsided. She’d misinterpreted everything. Her mother hadn’t been any more informed about her father’s treason than anyone else. Her sworn statement had been little more than a report. Paul had been the one who’d painted the gray area and ruined the Leones and the lives of countless others in the process.

  He gripped Sophia’s arm and shoved her hard into the counter. Frankie jumped up, but Paul leveled the gun at her mother’s forehead. “You ready to say goodbye?”

  “No!” Frankie held up her hands and sat down again, ruthlessly ignoring the catch in her hip. “You don’t have to do this, Paul. Dad’s gone. Walk away now.”

  “You won’t let me go that easy.”

  “Let us live and I’ll forget you ever existed,” Frankie promised.

  “I know better. I’ve watched you.” Paul glowered at her. “You should’ve died, but you’re as stubborn as your father. I’m not leaving anything more to chance. Consider this a hostile takeover.”

  Sophia stood there, silent, unmoving, Paul’s hand ruthlessly gripping her arm. Frankie recognized her intention. Her husband had been framed and murdered, her family destroyed, and Sophia was calculating how to save her daughter. Frankie sent a silent plea with her eyes for her mom to be patient. She refused to lose her to this madman th
e way she’d lost her dad.

  “Don’t do it,” Frankie screamed, though her mother hadn’t moved a muscle.

  Startled, Paul whipped around, leading with his gun. Frankie lunged, going for his knees. The weapon fired with a muffled pop and she could only pray the bullet had missed her mom.

  The gun clattered across the tile and Frankie grappled with Paul, trying to keep him down. Her navy training kept her in the fight, but he was bigger, with a longer reach. He punched her and rolled away. She pulled her knife from the sheath at her waist and put herself between him and the gun, between him and her mother.

  He lunged, she ducked under his defenses, her blade slicing through his shirt, and a thin line of blood followed. She heard her mother calling the police. All she had to do was keep him here, keep him busy, and it would all be over.

  Sophia threw herself at him. Somewhere across the room Frankie could hear the 9-1-1 operator asking the nature of the emergency. Paul punched Sophia in the face. When she hit the floor, he grabbed her by the hair and pounded her head against the hardwood.

  “Mom!” Frankie rushed toward him.

  * * *

  AIDAN HEARD THE noisy fight as he broke through the back door and into the kitchen, gun drawn. Sophia was on the floor. Not moving. Frankie was fighting Paul. Aidan lined up a shot, but they flipped and he couldn’t take it without risking hitting her. Sweat poured down his face. His body shook with the effort of staying vertical.

  He shouted a warning, but Paul didn’t heed it. He plowed a fist into Frankie’s stomach, followed by a shoulder, driving her back into the wall. Aidan rushed forward and the room spun. Damn it! His vision cleared just in time for him to see Frankie trying to get up and Paul smirking down at her.

  “Move away from her,” Aidan shouted. “Or I will blow your damn head off.”

  “Whatever you say.” Paul raised his hands as if in surrender, but then twisted and kicked Frankie in the back.

  Aidan fired twice, putting the first bullet in Paul’s knee, the second in his shoulder. The coward howled in pain. “Stay down or the next one will be between your eyes.”