Crossing Double (A Heartbreaker Novel Book 3)

by Tamra Baumann

  Sara slipped her hand on his bicep. “I have a favor to ask before we face the photographers inside.” She stopped walking and started fixing his tie. He’d tried to make it look as nice as she’d done before, but clearly, he’d failed.

  After she was done she said, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but could you look happy to be my date today? Maybe smile just a little bit?”

  “Like this?” He let a grin bloom that mirrored the valet’s. It wasn’t hard to smile at Sara. There was something about her he couldn’t put a finger on. She was different from other women he’d known. Hopefully, it wouldn’t turn out to be because she was a criminal pretending to be a philanthropic socialite.

  She grinned for the first time since he’d picked her up. “You have a sweet smile. Who knew?”

  “Sweet?” He’d prefer killer or maybe dazzling.

  She tightened her grip on his arm and started walking again. “Zoila told me you had a nice smile, but I’ve never seen it until now. I’m curious why that is?”

  As they approached the front doors, two uniformed men opened them, and the barrage hit, saving him from addressing her question. Cameras whirled and clicked like machine-gun fire as photographers called out, “Who’s your date, Sara?” and “Look over here.” Mixed with, “Who designed your dress? Love the shoes. How will it feel to see Scott today?”

  Brent concentrated on smiling while Sara did all the talking. She was a natural. Polite and patient even with the Scott questions. He had to give her points for that.

  It was the slight crinkling around her eyes, like she was fending off a headache, that signaled she’d probably had enough.

  He slid his arm around her waist and tugged. “Thanks, guys. Enjoy the wedding.” He guided her away from the photographers and farther into the restaurant.

  There were people scurrying around, setting glassware on tables as they made their way to the bar. A woman wearing a black vest looked up and smiled. “Hello, Ms. Chapman. What can I get you?”

  “Two shots of vodka to start, please.”

  Sara wasn’t kidding about needing a drink. When the bartender looked at him, he said, “Club soda with a twist, thanks.”

  “You don’t drink?” Sara’s brows lifted. “I got that second shot for you.”

  “Not tonight. Driving the boss’s daughter. I’d like to stay employed.” When the drinks appeared before them, he lifted his glass. “Here’s to sweet smiles.”

  Sara laughed. “That really bugged you didn’t it?” She bumped a shot glass against his and then drained it. “It was a compliment, by the way.” She downed her second shot and then cringed while she sucked on a lime. “And here’s another. You have good taste in music.”

  “I don’t know how you heard any of it with the phone stuck to your ear the whole ride.”

  “Sorry about that.” Sara ordered a glass of white wine and then turned to him again. “I saw Joey Bonner’s name pop up on the display just before we got here.”

  “The lead singer for Dead Pond? You know him?”

  “He once asked me to marry him.” Sara’s wine arrived, so she took a generous sip. “Why do you look so skeptical?”

  “I can’t see a wild, tattooed guy like him being part of your Rodeo Drive platinum-card-carrying crowd. Doubt he plays polo or owns a fancy yacht either. So, unless you were a groupie, I’m not sure how else your two social circles would ever intersect.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t own a platinum card, never played polo, or been anyone’s groupie. And I get seasick just looking at a boat.”

  “I stand corrected.” He lifted his glass in a mock toast. “So how do you know him?”

  “Besides going to the same school, I took guitar lessons from Joey’s mother. He asked me to marry him while we were in kindergarten. And even though I turned him down, he never gave up. He was the first boy who ever kissed me.”

  “Too bad he didn’t give you your first signed guitar rather than a kiss. At least you could have sold that online for big bucks.”

  “He did. But a girl never forgets her first kiss, Mr. Cynical.” She took a long drink. “Especially when there were braces involved. Do you remember yours?”

  “Vividly. Braces with rubber bands were tricky too. Always had to wait for her to take them all out so the serious kissing could happen.”

  “The serious kissing?” Sara’s eyes twinkled with delight. They did that a lot.

  “Yeah.” He leaned closer, drawing a deep breath of her flowery perfume. “The kind that puts a sweet smile on a guy’s face. Don’t you have to go see your father?”

  “I do. And soon after that, Scott and Brandi too, I suppose.” She let out a long sigh. “You are officially relieved of your babysitting duties, Brent. So please, feel free to have a real drink to help endure the torture.” She turned and walked away.

  He called out, “I brought you, so I’ll take you home. Text me when you’re ready to go.”

  Sara lifted her glass of wine in acknowledgment and kept walking. Did that mean have a drink, adios, or that she’d text him?

  No matter which, he’d hurry and hunt down Holden’s business partners right after the ceremony and chat them up. If Sara wanted to go home right after the vows, he’d hate to ask Rick to step in for him. That wouldn’t win any points with his boss.

  He made his way out to the beach where the ceremony would be held and found Rick talking to Bill Miller, one of Holden’s business partners, the police commissioner, and his best man. He headed their way to join them. Showboat Rick wasn’t going to steal any part of Brent’s case.

  Sara smiled at her dad, grateful he’d chosen to dance with her while Veronica danced with her father. Sinatra’s smooth crooning and her father’s honed dance skills made her forget her troubles for a few moments.

  Her mom’s warning still lingered in Sara’s mind, though, and she’d done her best to keep her head down and only talk to her friends. And avoid Scott and Brandi. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around her father involving her in any of his financial troubles, but maybe she should ask him. “Do we need to have a talk about all the money in my account? Like where it actually came from?”

  Her dad frowned. “I told you. Real estate. I’m going to invest in another property again soon too. You need to be sure you don’t have to pay Scott back for that ring. Be nice and dance with him now so he’ll give you a pass.”

  Scott appeared and tapped on her father’s shoulder. “May I cut in?”

  Her father winked at Scott. “You bet.” The staccato cadence of cameras clicking started up again from the edges of the dance floor.

  Dammit. Her dad had lined up Scott to cut in on their dance and then allowed the press inside the wedding to capture it. She’d been an idiot to think her father had wanted a special dance with her.

  The moment her father released her, Scott stepped in and pulled her close. “Smile. Everyone is watching.”

  She didn’t want to smile, she wanted to deck him. “I need my things back.”

  He whispered, “We’re just in town for the weekend. You can stop by anytime next week. I haven’t changed the codes. But I was hoping you and I could talk some time.”

  “Now you want to talk?” Her teeth clenched. “You had your opportunity for that before breaking up with me in the press. And why go after my best friend?” She would not cry. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction it’d give him to think he’d hurt her all over again.

  Scott grunted. “Maybe to finally get your attention? These days, all you care about is your degree and your precious homeless people. I used to be your top priority. I want to be again.”

  Seriously? The man was delusional if he thought they’d ever get back together.

  Anger boiled her blood, but instead of making a scene that her mother would be upset about seeing in the tabloids, she closed her eyes and counted to ten. When she opened her eyes again, she stopped dancing and took a step back.

  After crossing her arms so she wouldn’t hit him,
she said, “I’m mad at Brandi, but I once loved her too. Don’t use her to get back at me.”

  “I love Brandi too, but I love you even more. Say the word and I’m all yours again.”

  She poked him in the chest. “Let me say this loud and clear. We. Are. Over!” Raising her voice couldn’t be helped.

  “You’re making a spectacle of yourself.” Scott reached out to pull her into his arms again, but Brent beat him to it.

  Thank goodness.

  He wrapped her up and then quickly and smoothly put distance between her and Scott.

  Brent whispered, “You’re shaking. Are you okay?” He pulled her closer and held her tight against his hard chest.

  She nodded and fought back the tears that burned her eyes. “I just need some air. And maybe another drink. Or three. I’ve lost count of how many I’ve had tonight.”

  “Four. Not counting the two shots at first.” Brent maneuvered them to the door that led to a balcony overlooking the beach.

  “Thank you for clearing that up.” Geez, he really had been babysitting her. Had her mother put him up to it? “Why are you counting my drinks?”

  “Not judging. I know tonight is hard for you.” He pushed open the door for her to go outside first. “I was watching because I didn’t want some guy taking advantage of your love of liquor tonight. Like that blond guy in a tux you were dancing with earlier.”

  “Rick? He seemed like a nice enough guy at first.” She walked to the railing and pulled in a deep breath of salty ocean air. “I shut him down when he got too aggressive.” He’d picked the wrong night to mess with her.

  Brent smirked. “Yeah. I saw that. Nice move with the ear twist. Want another glass of wine?”

  The way he’d been watching probably meant her mother had hired him and sworn him to secrecy. “No, thanks. All your drink counting is taking the fun out of getting drunk.”

  “Sorry. You ready to go?”

  She should stay for the cake for appearances’ sake. But after what her father had done, screw it. “Can we sneak out down these steps to the beach? So I don’t have to go back through the restaurant?”

  Brent leaned over the railing. “Yeah. I see some stairs over there that probably lead up to the street level.”

  She started for the deck’s steps and then stopped. “Wait. My purse is at my table. Be right back.”

  “I’ll get it.” Brent walked back inside the restaurant.

  She leaned against the railing and watched the moonlit waves crash against the shore while she waited. Playing her discussion with Scott over again in her head, she was glad to be rid of him for good. That he would ask Brandi to marry him out of revenge was such a jerk move. Zoila had been right about Scott and his lack of character. And while Brandi had betrayed her too, maybe a text next week telling her what Scott said would be the decent thing to do. She wasn’t in the mood for decency at the moment, though.

  And her father? Betraying her, not giving a second thought to her feelings, just for the press he’d generate? She loved him, always would, but he’d changed as his movie career had faded the last few years. A desperation of sorts had made him into a heartless man.

  Or maybe she’d just finally gotten old enough to see what her mother often had hinted at. That her father put himself first over everyone else. Even those he claimed to love. Maybe it was time to take her rose-colored glasses off and see him for the man he truly was.

  She rubbed a hand over the dull ache in her chest. She’d lost both of the only men she’d trusted in a week’s time. But her father’s betrayal had been even worse than Scott’s. Guarding her heart from both kinds of pain going forward seemed her best plan.

  “Here you go.” Light-footed Brent returned with her purse, startling her from her thoughts.

  “Thanks.” That he’d brought the right one impressed her. What guy paid attention to that kind of detail? "Want to get a burger on the way home? Between my ‘daughter of the groom’ toast and the dance, I never got to eat.”

  He nodded. “Give me a good burger over sushi any day.”

  She followed him down the steps. “A man after my own heart.”

  “What?” He glanced over his shoulder.

  Poor choice of words. “Nothing. I just meant I agree. About burgers.”

  “Oh. I thought you were hitting on me.” The corner of his mouth tilted ever so slightly. “Bosses’ daughters are off-limits, just so we’re clear here.”

  She snorted. “Men are off-limits for the next five years as far as I’m concerned. They’ve all turned out to be lying jerks.”

  When they got to the bottom, she stopped to take off her heels. They’d be impossible in the sand. Brent held out his hand to help her balance and whispered, “Sometimes lies are necessary. We’re not all jerks, Sara.” He slipped his hand from hers and turned to leave.

  She stood and blinked at his retreating back as he started for the steps. Her mother said Brent had secrets. And now she’d probably offended her new bodyguard without even trying.

  Way to screw that up too. Just when, according to her mother, she might need him to be her friend.

  She caught up with his long strides and then followed him up the steps to the parking lot above. Brent’s silence confirmed she’d probably made him mad. She just wanted to go home and pull the covers over her head. And hope she’d wake up to a better day tomorrow.

  When they got to the top of the stairs, Brent held out his arm to stop her. He tapped a finger to his lips and pulled her into the shadows, against the building. She’d been so deep in thought, she hadn’t heard the men’s voices until that moment.

  “Kill Brent tonight.”

  The other man said, “It’ll look bad when two people who pay Holden’s bills turn up dead.”

  The other voice replied, “Barker was old. No one will count that. Best case, the brakes fail while they’re still in Malibu and he and Sara go over a cliff. Worst case, they’re in a fender bender and we have to figure something else out. He’s asking way too many questions, and Sara has figured out there’s money in the account Barker told us she never looked at. What if she asks for the half million for the ring? We have to get rid of them, or it’s you and me who’ll end up dead.”

  She couldn’t believe it was real. Who would try to kill them?

  The first guy, whose voice she was pretty sure she recognized, said, “Don’t take your eyes off them until it’s done. And be sure they’re taken care of before Holden gets back from his unplugged honeymoon. We can’t have him intervening in this and trying to save his kid.”

  “Already tracking their cells. And I dropped a chip in Brent’s glove box. We’re good.”

  Sara’s heart rate jumped into overdrive. What the hell was going on?

  She was in trouble, just as her mother predicted. And so was Brent.

  It was getting hard to breathe. But she had to think. She’d had a ton of classes her mom had made her take to prepare for something like this. She just had to take deep breaths and remember what the instructors had said. And what had her mom told her? To trust only Brent.

  Her mom hadn’t said to go to the cops, she’d said to come home. So that was what she’d do.

  Starting now!

  Chapter 5

  Brent shook his head when Sara tugged on his arm to leave. He needed to see who the men were who were plotting to have them killed. He held up a hand to hold Sara in position as he inched his way to the edge of the building and pulled out his cell. He’d tapped the record button earlier, but he needed more.

  He slid just the top of the phone around the corner, hoping the camera would pick up the evidence he needed. Then they’d go back down to the beach and get a decent head start before the men figured out he and Sara had left.

  He pulled his phone back and studied the screen. He could only identify one of the men. The police commissioner, Holden’s best man. They needed to keep it within the agency until he could confirm who else might be working with the commissioner on the polic
e force.

  He tapped out a text to Rick.

  Need eyes on Bill Miller. Now. Brakes on my car compromised.

  What else might be compromised? It’d been Sara’s idea to leave from the beach and go up the steps. Could it have been a setup?

  He slowly slid beside her again and took her hand, leading her quietly down the stairs to the beach. When they hit the sand, she whispered, “We have to get to my mother’s house in Albuquerque. It’s a fortress, and we’ll be safe there until we can figure things out.”

  To test her, he said, “I think we should call the police.”

  “No. I think I recognized one of the voices. He is the police. We can’t trust them here. We can call the cops when we get to my mom’s. Let’s go.” She started jogging down the beach, so he had no choice but to catch up with his suspect.

  She glanced at him and said, “I’ll call us a ride on my phone. We’ll have them take us somewhere busy and safe while we figure this out. Those guys said they have trackers on us, so ditch your cell in the water, and as soon as we get a ride, I’ll ditch mine.”

  She seemed to have a plan. Which made him doubt her even more. But he had both a work and personal cell, so he’d play along. Rick would be able to track his movements with their secure work phones. “I think it’s better if we hide our phones under one of these parked cars. That way, they’ll think we’re still nearby. Maybe making out in the parking lot?”

  She blinked at him for a moment as they ran, and then nodded. “Yeah. Better idea.”

  Besides, he’d like to stay alive long enough to solve the case, and that would require a head start, so he followed her up a boat ramp. They crouched behind some cars to wait for their ride. While she put her ridiculously tall shoes back on, he hid his phone under a nearby car. He wouldn’t want to hide it in a car and endanger an innocent citizen.

  Sara finally wrangled her feet back into her shoes. Those heels could be a lethal weapon if used properly. Her dress looked too tight to conceal a gun, but a knife would still work.