“You were upset about breaking up with me?”
“Yes. Didn’t you think I would be?”
“I don’t know. We never talked about it.”
“I was miserable. Couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. Most women pack on the pounds while they’re pregnant. I lost weight. Most nights I cried myself to sleep wondering how you were. When I heard about your accident, I wanted to fly to London to check on you, but I couldn’t. I knew what your mother would do if I did.” Tears roll down my cheeks as I remember those horrible months when I longed for him, wanting the comfort of his body next to mine.
“Elizabeth.” He cups my face in his hands, sweeps away the moisture. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone. I had no memories of you. Only fleeting wisps of a gardenia scent, the shape of a woman’s breast in my hand, her intoxicating taste. And I never knew it was you. I only know my heart felt like it had been rent in two, like a piece had been carved out and I was not whole. But I didn’t know. I bloody well didn’t know. And then Brianna told me about you and your pregnancy. In a strange way it made sense, even though I couldn’t remember any of it.”
I brush back that wayward curl of his, the one that always falls over his brow. “At the closing, you acted like you didn’t know me.”
“I didn’t, love. It was only the next day, when I touched you, that I felt something I hadn’t felt for a long time. I came alive because of you.”
I curl my hands around his neck, rest my head against his chest. “I’m afraid, Gabriel.”
“Of what?”
“Of Brian. He’s dangerous. And he’s been trained as a marksman. What’s to stop him from killing you next time?”
“He won’t kill me. Samuel and I will stop him. We’re really close to getting the proof we need. So there’s no need to be afraid.”
But there is. Brian Sullivan is a very dangerous man. In the past, I dismissed him as someone of no consequence. But he’s damn serious. That shooting at the theater proves it. He’s determined to win me no matter what it takes. Even if it means killing Gabriel.
Chapter 32
______________
Gabriel
MY PHONE RINGS. Samuel. “We found the bellhop.”
“Where?”
“In a hospital. Somebody ran him over and then beat him into a coma. He was admitted without any ID on him. He regained consciousness only recently. So only then were they able to put a name to him.”
Had we gotten too close to Brian Sullivan and had he reacted by trying to kill the porter? “Can we talk to him?”
“Yes.”
“Meet me downstairs.” No time like the present to discover the truth.
At the hospital, he’s in a ward with several other people. From what I observed coming in, the hospital does not appear to have sufficient staff to deal with the number of patients. Too many are scurrying about dealing with the most urgent cases. And every bed is full which tells me the bellhop might not be getting the best care.
“Russell Maull?” I ask.
His eyes dart between Samuel and me. A nasty scar mars the side of his head, partly shaved to deal with the wound. Was that caused by his head hitting the pavement or had someone struck him there? No wonder he lost consciousness. He’s lucky to be alive.
“Who wants to know?” He’s missing a couple of teeth and his mouth, torn in a couple of places, twists in pain. Somebody did quite a number on him.
“My name is Gabriel Storm. And this is Samuel Taylor. We don’t want to harm you. If anything, we want to help.”
“Help me how?”
“Well, for one thing, I can have you moved to a better hospital. One where you’ll get private care so you recuperate faster.”
“And drugs?” He tosses out. “Don’t get enough here. I’m in bloody pain all the time.”
Having been in a similar situation, I can imagine the agony he’s going through. But there’s more at play here. He’s way too thin, for one. And his arms are scored with needle tracks. He’s a junkie in need of his next fix. I’ll be damned if I cater to that, but I need to get the information I seek. So I’ll have to fashion my words in a way that gives him hope without promising to feed his habit. “Your new doctors will assess what you need and deal with your pain accordingly.”
His gaze travels back and forth between Samuel and me. He rubs his brow, twinges.
“We can help you get better, Russell, but first you need to talk to us.”
His shoulders droop with pain, fatigue. “What do you want?” He’s toned down his belligerence. Good. I’m making headway.
“Last summer you worked at the Londoner Hotel?”
“Yes.”
“In July, my company held a business meeting there. We reserved several rooms and suites, including the Park Suite.”
He catches his breath. And I think this time it’s not from pain. He’s beginning to understand my reason for being here.
“Now I’m not accusing you of anything, but it’s something I need to know. Did you to go into the Park Suite and take pictures of some documents?”
His hand clenches on the sheet. His eyes dart from side to side. “Can’t remember.”
Bloody hell. I’m going to lose him, unless I do something, say something to convince him. “Look. I’m not going to press charges, but I require the truth. And unless I miss my guess a confession will help you as well. How did you end up here?”
“Somebody ran me over and then beat the tar out of me. Bloody wanker.”
“Who?”
He starts to hitch a shoulder, but halfway up, his mouth twists in agony and he changes his mind. “Don’t know.”
“I think you do. I think the person responsible came after you because you talked to Mr. Taylor and were about to tell him the truth. So your attacker almost killed you to keep you from talking.”
“And what’s to stop him from coming back and finishing the bloody job?”
“I’ll stop him. We’ll move you to a private hospital where you’ll get round-the-clock protection. If you sign an affidavit confessing to what you did.”
“You won’t sick the coppers on me? I can’t go to jail. I have me mum to support.”
Finally, something I can use as leverage. “No. And if you help us, I promise, you’ll be amply rewarded.”
“How much?”
“Five hundred pounds.” That should make his mum’s life a bit more comfortable.
His gaze narrows as he studies me. I know what he sees. Fancy suit. Expensive watch. Jeweled tie pin. “Make it a thousand. Got a pregnant girlfriend as well.”
I would have paid a lot more, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Done. Now tell me, did you photocopy those papers?”
“Write it down before I tell you.”
I let fly a curse.
“I got it, Mr. Storm.” From his briefcase, Samuel fishes out a pad. I write an I.O.U., sign it, hand it to the pitiful excuse of humanity lying on the hospital bed.
Ronald takes his time reading it over, mouthing the words as if he finds it difficult to read. He folds it, slips it beneath his pillow before peering back at me. “Yeah, I done it.” His chin hitches up as if he’s proud of what he did.
Finally. “Who paid you?”
“An American bloke. A lawyer. The miserable git only paid me fifty pounds. But I needed the money. For me mum.”
I glance at his needle-track-riddled arm. His mum, my foot. He needed it to get his fix.
“What did this man look like?” Samuel asks.
“‘Bout his height.” He points to me. “Maybe an inch shorter, dark hair, brown eyes.”
“And what did he ask you to do?” I ask, fervently hoping Russell does not notice the small recorder Samuel palmed when he returned the pad to his briefcase. If he notices, he might clam up.
“He gave me a small camera. Asked me to go into the Park Suite and look for a briefcase. I was not to remove anything but to take pictures of any papers inside.”
“And whe
n did you do this?”
“Kept me eye out. Waited for the bloke to leave. Wait a minute. That was you. I recognize you now. My eye weren’t on you, though. But on that looker with the big tits—”
Anger bursts hot and fierce inside me. “Shut the bloody hell up. Right now.”
Samuel clears his throat. “Maybe I should conduct the rest of the interview, Mr. Storm.”
By sheer effort of will, I bury my rage. “No. I want to hear this. Go on. Just keep any comments about the looker to yourself.”
“Roight. Sorry, mate. Didn’t mean no disrespect.” While he gives me the once over, I try to appear as calm as I can. “So you and the look—”
I growl.
“Your lady. You went out. All dolled up she was. So I figured you’d be out for a while. That’s when I snuck in. Didn’t have to look far. The briefcase was right there next to the dining table. Found a binder with lots of documents. Blimey. Must have taken me over half an hour to take all those pictures.”
“And then what did you do?”
“What he told me to do. Put the memory card inside an envelope. Wrote his name on it. And gave it to the concierge.”
“Did the concierge know what was in the envelope?”
“Hell, no. Ye think I’m stupid? Told him a bloke asked me to get him some condoms.”
“And then what happened?”
“Well, the next morning he picked up the envelope. All the trouble I went through and I only got fifty pounds. He promised me one hundred.”
“What a shame. No honor among thieves, hey?” I say imitating his cockney accent. He starts to say something but thinks better of it.
“So this name you wrote on the envelope. What was it?”
“Sullivan. Brian Sullivan.”
A smile of satisfaction rolls over my lips. Got you, you son of a bitch.
Chapter 33
______________
Elizabeth
IT’S BEEN A HELL OF A WEEK. After Gabriel obtained a sworn affidavit from the bellhop at the Londoner hotel, he called Thomas Carrey and faxed the proof of Brian Sullivan’s perfidy to him. Incredulous at first, my former boss eventually admitted the seriousness of the matter. Especially after Gabriel told him he planned to not only terminate his business relationship with Smith Cannon but hinted at legal action against my former law firm as well. The former would financially impact the firm, but the latter would destroy it. He promised Gabriel the firm would investigate and take appropriate action. As if they have a choice. The only appropriate action the firm can take is to sever its relationship with Brian Sullivan.
And that has me in a panic. Brian will retaliate, and this time he won’t miss. I’m not afraid for myself, but for Gabriel since he’d be the target of Brian’s wrath.
Gabriel not being a fool has doubled the security contingent, adding more members to the security team. Not a problem. Storm Industries earned a reputation among ex-Armed Forces and ex-British SSB as a company with great pay and benefits. So plenty of security types lined up to work for us. With everything going on, Samuel had anticipated the need for additional staff and given several candidates a heads up. Once Gabriel called Smith Cannon, Samuel activated the plan and extended offers of employment to several prospects. Not one of them turned him down.
But still I don’t feel it’s enough. Only now do I realize the terror Gabriel experienced while I was pregnant. How terrified he had to have been for me. If it was only half the way I feel right now, no wonder he went to such extraordinary measures to protect me. I bark out a bitter laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Gabriel, emerged from his shower, smelling delicious as always and wearing nothing but white silk pajama bottoms. A garment he’ll toss as soon as he slips into bed. Under the sheets, we’re skin to skin.
“I never understood your frame of mind while I was pregnant. Until now.”
He wraps his arms around me, tucks my head underneath his chin. “You have nothing to worry about. I’ve hired additional security. He won’t get to you.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about, Gabriel. It’s you he’ll come after.”
“He can try, but he won’t succeed. Scotland Yard will find him.”
I don’t see why they’d bother. “They wouldn’t look for him over a document theft.”
“You’re right. But he left behind a glove. Rather careless of him if you ask me. And Scotland Yard was able to obtain a fingerprint from the inside. Since it was found on the rooftop where the shot originated right next to spent shell casings, it’s clear he’s the shooter.”
“Why hasn’t Scotland Yard taken him into custody then? Smith Cannon knows where he lives.”
“He’s in the wind. The Inspector in charge of the investigation called me today at work to let me know. Sullivan’s cleared out of the flat he’d been living in. He must have figured out the jig is up after I moved the bellhop to another hospital. I overplayed my hand with that. But I couldn’t take the chance he would get to Ronald Maull again.”
“Again?” I choke out.
“I suspect Brian Sullivan drove the car that put Ronald Maull in the hospital.”
I curl my hands around his neck, latch on tight, burrow my head against his shoulder. “Gabriel. I’m frightened.” For him.
“Don’t worry, darling girl. They’ll find him. He’s got nowhere to go.”
“How can you say that?”
“Britain’s an island. He’ll need travel documents if he wants to go anywhere. They’ve alerted every airport, train station, and port. If he tries to leave, they’ll nab him.”
“What if he doesn’t leave? What if he stays?”
“They’ve frozen his bank accounts, stopped his credit cards. He’s not a wealthy man. Whatever money he’s got left won’t last long. In a week, two at the most, they’ll nab him.”
“I hope so. For I won’t rest easy until they do.”
“In the meantime”—he drops a kiss on my nose—“security will remain tight. You will go nowhere without an entire retinue of guards.”
“It’s not me he’s after. Can’t you understand that?”
“Yes, I do. But darling, he could use you to get to me. Andrew won’t be going anywhere either, not even the rooftop. I’ve doubled up the security on Edward as well. Now come.” He pulls me toward the bed. “We’ve spent enough time worrying about a man of no consequence. It’s time we enjoyed ourselves for a change.”
For the next hour, I surrender to the magic of Gabriel. While his arms hold me like I’m precious cargo, his lips whisper sweet words, and his body tells me how much I mean to him.
Deep in the night, I come awake. Twisting over, I breathe in the glory of him. He sleeps so peacefully with a satisfied smile on his lips. I put that there. I gave him that peace. With that knowledge comes the realization. I can’t go to D.C. and leave him to face all this danger alone. I must remain in London until Brian’s apprehended. No matter how long it takes.
Half awake he rolls in my direction. Even in his sleep he seeks me out. It’s but the work of a second for him to slip inside of me. And it’s only then, when our hearts beat as one, that I’m able to forget the madness.
Finished with my shower the next morning, I’m standing in the dressing room deciding what dress to wear when his phone rings with a special tone, one I don’t recognize. He answers with “Chris?”
My stomach clenches. As far as I know, he doesn’t know anyone by that name. Except for Chris Langenfeld. The woman he swore he doesn’t know. If she’s his doctor, why is he calling her by her first name?
“You want to meet earlier? Let me look at my schedule.” A couple of heartbeats later, he says. “I have a two o’clock, but I can move it back. Things are happening at my end. Things I need to resolve. Does that work for you?” A pause and then. “See you then.”
A wave of grief rolls over me. Is she that important to him that he moves a meeting just to see her?
When his steps approach the dressing room, I rush back in
to the bathroom. It’s far enough away I wouldn’t overhear his phone call. For good measure, I flip on the hair dryer just as he strolls into the room.
He takes one look at me and asks, “What’s wrong?”
I shrug. “Nothing.”
He walks over and wraps his arms around me from behind. “Stop worrying. We’ll catch him. You’ll see.”
How could he be this loving with me after hanging up with her? Does he think he can carry on an affair, and I’ll go along with it, blessedly ignorant of his afternoon trysts? I don’t think so. Without saying a word, I step out of his arms and head for the bedroom where I open the armoire and grab a dress.
He follows me with a perplexed look on his face. “Elizabeth?”
“Sorry. I have to go to work early today. I have an early meeting to attend.”
“You didn’t mention it last night.”
“I forgot. What with everything that’s going on.”
“Fine. We’ll go in together.”
“No. One of us has to stay here and eat breakfast. Otherwise Jorge will be insulted.”
The look he shoots tells me how silly that sounds.
After I zip up my dress, I dial my driver and ask him to be downstairs in five minutes. I grab my purse and briefcase and walk toward the door, but he bars my way.
Mouth frowning and brows hunched, he glares at me. Clearly, he’s upset. That makes two of us. “Tell me what’s wrong. What the bloody hell is wrong?”
“Nothing. Gabriel. I just have to go to work, that’s all.” Two can play at this game. He doesn’t tell me about his private life. I’ll keep my feelings to myself. No matter how much it hurts. “Excuse me.” I dart around him and dash out the door. Once in the hallway, I run for the elevator.
“Elizabeth. Wait.”
But I don’t. The elevator arrives, and I jump in. The last thing I see is the dark look on his face. Good. Now he knows how I feel.
Chapter 34
______________
Gabriel
“WHERE ARE WE GOING?” Elizabeth asks, as we roll down the motorway away from the city.
“It’s a surprise.” I answer.
“You were very quiet during dinner.”
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