Gunning for the Groom (13 page)

“September will sneak up on us if we let it. We need to make some decisions quickly.”

Aidan tried to sympathize with Sophia's urgency. She didn't know he'd be walking out of her life soon. “I didn't realize I'd have quite this much say in the process. My buddies teased me that it would be all bride all the time.”

“With a normal bride it is,” she assured him. “Frankie is...different.”

Aidan smiled. “I know.” He made a mental note to talk to Frankie about picking up the slack on the happy bride stuff.

Sophia's shoulders relaxed. “She doesn't say much about your side of the family.”

“What don't you know from the background checks?” He kept it light, but the query was serious.

“Not that. We have all the time in the world to get to know them. I'm referring to the guest list.” She handed him the folder. “This is a short list of venues in the area. I can't move forward until I have an idea of how many guests we're expecting.”

Venues? Guests?
Stuck, his skin prickled at the back of his neck. The best course on any undercover job was to keep it as true as possible. “I'm not sure any of my family will make the trip.”

Sophia pursed her lips, concern in her brown eyes. “I worry about you.”

He laughed that off. “Frankie and you are all the family I'll need on my wedding day.” It sounded true enough when he said it out loud. He grabbed his pen, just to give himself a distraction.

“You say that now.” She took a deep breath and crossed her ankles. “Yes, the wedding is about you and Frankie, but your family should be there to celebrate with you.”

“I appreciate your concern,” he said. “I'd planned to pay for the video and photographer.”

“This isn't about who pays which bill,” Sophia said with a flash of impatience. That was going around today. “We have the tech to stream it live, but it's not the same.”

“My family isn't as close as yours,” he began as a cloud fell over Sophia's face. Now he was concerned about two Leone women. Sophia didn't typically show this kind of agitation.

“I'm not pushing this because I want you to fit some perfect mold or expectation,” she said. “I don't want you to have regrets.”

Too late.
He wasn't sure mother and daughter would overcome the pressure this engagement stunt would put on their fragile relationship when the truth came out. From his vantage point, it seemed Frankie and Sophia wanted the same things from each other: love, trust and respect.

The love was there, under the anger and pain. Although Frankie would vehemently deny it, the respect was there, too. All they needed was the trust. That would take time and practice, assuming this didn't shatter them.

“Honestly, I've never given much thought to who would be at my wedding,” he said.

“You're a man,” Sophia said with a wistful smile. “Frank and I basically eloped. My parents were furious with me for a time and I always regretted upsetting them. Years later, I wondered if a longer engagement might've been smart.”

“Frankie told me you had to hurry things along because of his orders.”

Sophia's smile brightened, transforming her face to that of a young woman in love. “That was the least of it. We were impatient to get real life started.”

“We could've eloped,” he pointed out. “But Frankie wanted to tell you first. She wanted to reconnect with you.”

Sophia studied him, her mouth tipped up in a wry smirk. “I imagine you exerted influence over that choice.”

He shrugged. “Maybe just a little.”

“It only underscores my concern about having your family here. Is there something I could do or say to help?”

“No, thank you.” At this rate he'd be forced to explain the situation to his parents, without blowing the case. “I'll reach out,” he said, recognizing an unwinnable argument. Creative problem solving was supposedly one of his strengths, though it didn't feel like it right now.

“Thank you. I know I'm pushing, but...”

“No worries,” he assured her. “I know you want what's best for Frankie.”

“And you,” Sophia said suddenly. “I'm sure I sound like a romantic fool, but I see how you look at each other. It's love. Your family should be able to see that love, too, especially on your wedding day.”

Leaving that hanging in the air, she walked out, and he stared at the empty doorway for far too long. How exactly did Frankie look at him? He'd thought this was one-sided. Was she being convinced by the charade, too?

He thought about the way she responded to his kisses, the way her hand gripped his whenever they were together. The woman, tougher than anyone he knew, had a vulnerable side he instinctively wanted to shelter. Her search for the truth had become his cause. For her, he wanted go above and beyond the resolution of a challenging case.

There had to be a way to survive this tightrope he was walking. Any misstep could be his last and Aidan feared he wouldn't survive the fall.

He plucked the reception venue file off his desk and shoved it into his duffel bag. Refreshing his monitor, he returned to the task of gathering intel for Victoria. His new boss was the best in the private investigations business for a reason. After reviewing his last update, she'd pointed him in a new direction: the applicants who'd been
rejected
by Leo Solutions. Neither Aidan nor Victoria trusted the man who'd contacted Frankie in Savannah. They both suspected he was connected to the person behind this mess.

Due to the nature of the work at Leo Solutions, every application was screened and kept on file for reference. In a fortunate break, he discovered the rejected résumés weren't locked up behind firewalls like the personnel files of those who landed jobs. Aidan made swift work of it, wanting to get in and out without leaving a trace or raising suspicions. He had an excuse ready, but better all around if he didn't have to use it.

At last he found the man who'd approached Frankie, and gave a mental fist pump. Reading the résumé, he wondered why John Lennox hadn't made the cut. He was a little older, but his military background, three tours in the Middle East and his fitness should've made him an automatic hire. Aidan frowned, downloading the data and notes from the man's interviews with both Paul and Sophia to his flash drive.

If the dates on the dossier were accurate, Lennox's overseas service had coincided with General Leone's on all three deployments. Immediately, Aidan's thoughts turned to Frankie and her likely interpretation of this news. She'd find a way to twist the interview and no-hire into her mother's prejudice against applicants who'd known her father.

Aidan's instincts were once more prickling as he read through Paul's vague post-interview notes on Lennox. Aidan cross-referenced the email address and searched through the corporate accounts, coming up empty. It was too coincidental to ignore.

He leaned back until his chair creaked. As an investigator, he would pass the intel on to his boss and keep Frankie out of it. Victoria would use her assets to follow up and track down this guy who seemed to know everything about Frankie's parents' histories. Still, the idea of hiding this from her made Aidan's gut twist.

“It doesn't add up,” he muttered, after reading through the file again. The items Frankie had found were too personal, too specific. General Leone might've opened the account and rented the box, but it had to be Paul or Sophia who used it to get Frankie back to Seattle.

Which of them had stocked that safe-deposit box and given Lennox the key to pass on to her?

Aidan could make a case for Sophia; the woman knew only a serious catalyst would break Frankie's stubborn streak. But why paint herself so negatively in the process?

Considering Paul as a suspect had Aidan asking the same questions about making Sophia look bad. On top of that, he couldn't see what Paul gained by undermining the face of Leo Solutions on a professional or personal level.

Aidan copied the new intel to the cloud where Victoria could access it, then ejected the drive and tucked it into his pocket. If he shared it with Frankie, Victoria had cause to fire him. If he didn't, Frankie would never trust him. The obvious answer was career above client.

Could he live with that?

No.
The answer tolled like a church bell in his head. It didn't matter that he and Frankie were playing at romance for the sole purpose of the case. Handling this incorrectly could destroy his career. It hit him like a roundhouse kick. As his dad often said, there was always work for a man willing to get his hands dirty.

Frankie mattered more. Damn it, he'd fallen for her. Handling
her
incorrectly could destroy him, along with his heart, his sense of self and his decency. If he kept her out of it, he had no hope of exploring a real relationship with her when they resolved this case.

He couldn't live with that. Couldn't accept a result that killed any chance he had with the one woman who challenged and captivated him so thoroughly. Frankie was in the fight of her life and he wanted to be sure she never had cause to consider him an enemy.

Decision made, he set up a secondary cloud account. He created a username and password for Frankie and uploaded the Lennox file, just in case something happened to him or the drive. Once they were done here for the day, she could take a look and they could discuss the possible ramifications over dinner out.

If he was lucky, this would be enough to make her listen to an alternate theory, though he knew it would be an uphill battle.

Everything worthwhile took effort and risk. In Frankie's case, Aidan knew the reward, gaining her trust and a chance to be with her for the long run, would be priceless.

Chapter Ten

7:55 p.m.

For the first time, Frankie believed they would figure this out. She had a new cell phone and a key card for an “in case of emergency” hotel room near the airport, and Aidan had identified her father's friend as John Lennox. Now they just had to connect a few more dots and she could confront her mother.

She could feel the weight easing off her.

After work, Aidan had managed to lose the team tailing them, giving them space and time to relax in the hotel room. Wisely, they'd worked on the case and managed to keep their hands and lips off each other. Over Chinese takeout they'd debated the significance of the psychologist, if her father had indeed asked Lennox to take action in the event of his death, or if Lennox was being controlled by someone else.

Having returned to the performance required of them at the corporate apartment, she decided progress was a beautiful thing. Even the small steps, she thought as she sent him a text message that she was back from her bakery run and headed upstairs. It bothered her that they couldn't just pull the trigger now. What they'd found, revealed in the right way, could spell the end of Leo Solutions and leave her mother with no choice but to cooperate. If Frankie couldn't get justice for her father, maybe she'd finally get answers for her peace of mind.

She punched the call button for the elevator and tapped her phone on her palm while she waited. One second she felt absolutely certain about taking definitive action. About ruining her mother and the company. But before the next second could tick by, her resolve wavered. It seemed Aidan's warnings about family, lies and love were sinking in.

She stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the apartment floor.

She'd been out for vengeance, if not exactly blood, ever since her father's disgrace and death. Would taking action, even righteous action, against her mother make her a hero or lump her into the category of another problem? Aidan had told her point-blank she'd be devastated if she tore her mother's professional life apart. Then again, his mom hadn't turned on his dad.

The elevator screeched and jerked to a stop, tossing Frankie down hard into a corner. She swore as the bakery bag fell and the emergency lights came on.

From her knees, she hit the red button to call for help. The emergency alarm sounded, but the elevator car jerked and dropped again. Moving slowly, she reached for her phone and checked the signal. Hopefully her text to Aidan would get out. Slinging her purse strap across her body, she pushed herself to her feet and tried to pry open the doors.

Her fingers pinched and cramped, her back ached from the effort and her shoulders burned, but the doors didn't part. “Damn it.” She shook the tension out of her arms and tried again. Another screech of metal on metal sounded in the elevator shaft above her and the car tipped to the side like a sinking boat.

“Hey, lady! Can you hear me?”

Frankie followed the sound of the voice to the speaker in the instrument panel and then glanced up toward the security camera in the corner. She gave the camera lens a thumbs-up.

“Fire department is on the way. Just sit tight.”

She didn't like it, but she didn't have much choice. She nodded and tried to breathe. Tight spaces weren't a big problem for her. Feeling helpless was her big hang-up and it had only become more pronounced following her injury. She fisted and stretched her fingers while she waited for the sound of sirens. It had to be her imagination, but even that small motion of her hands seemed to set the car swaying.

Determined to help herself, she looked for the service panel in the ceiling. There had to be some way out of here.

She heard a soft thud on the roof of the elevator. “Who's there?” No one answered. Whatever had landed wasn't heavy enough to cause the car to move, so she assumed it wasn't a rescue team.

But the pop and hiss, followed by a sizzle and puff of white smoke, startled her. “What the hell?” She didn't think the person monitoring the security camera could see the problem yet.

She waved her arms in front of the camera. “Hey! Help me! There's smoke or something—”

A chunk of the ceiling dropped into the elevator with her, and the smoke filled the small space with a stinging vapor and noxious odor. Her eyes watered and she covered her mouth and nose with the collar of her T-shirt.

She scrambled for the door, pulling and prying with all her might, ignoring how the car swayed with her efforts. She pounded the sleek paneling with her fists.

The voice on the other end of the intercom faded to static and she felt the gas taking effect. Thick gray smoke made her feet invisible and billowed up toward her knees. If she was meant to die here, she refused to go without a fight.

Using the railing on the back panel of the car as a toehold, she smeared the lens of the security camera with lip gloss. Then she popped open the emergency access in the ceiling. She wasn't sure what she'd do once she was in the elevator shaft, but as the smoke continued to build up, she knew she couldn't stay here.

The cleaner air in the elevator shaft cleared her head some as she pulled and wriggled her way to the roof. Looking around, she noted her slim-to-none options as the car swayed under her feet. She recognized the smell of a military-grade explosive and saw the frayed cable straining against the weight of the car. Someone had rigged this elevator and waited for the right moment to send it plummeting to the ground.

She used the flashlight on her phone to get her bearings in the dim, cavernous space, looking for the best path out. The cable creaked again and if she didn't move quickly, the saboteur would win and she'd wind up a smudge amid the debris.

Calculating the distance between her perch and the service ladder bolted to the wall between the runs, she thought she could get there. If she didn't fall, she'd climb up to the next floor and pry open those doors. The other option would be climbing down to the bottom of the shaft. With no alternative, she put away her phone and moved as cautiously as possible toward the safety of the ladder, using the cables and wiring for balance.

Light suddenly flooded the shaft and she peered up.

“Frankie?”

Aidan!
“I'm here.” Her voice was raspy from the smoke. “The elevator cable blew. Gas grenade, too.”

He swore as he flashed a beam of light around the elevator shaft. “Get to the ladder.”

“That's the plan,” she replied.

“Faster,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “There's another charge on a timer.”

How had she missed it? It didn't matter. She stretched for the ladder. The cable creaked; the car shifted away. She waited until it steadied, then, using a cluster of wiring, pulled herself close enough to make the jump for the ladder. The cable creaked again as the car swung away.

“Hurry, Frankie.” Aidan was lying in the open doorway, his arm stretching down to her.

She kept her eyes on his face, on the light behind him as she climbed. One rung at a time, she focused on him, rather than the dark narrow elevator shaft lit with emergency glow strips.

Finally her hand met his, wrapping around his wrist, and his strength made the last few steps easier.

Beneath her, another pop sounded, then the rasp and whip of the cable, followed by the scream of metal as the car plummeted down the shaft.

Aidan jerked her up into the brightly lit hallway as the crash swelled from fourteen stories below. Frankie trembled under his sheltering body as the explosion roared up the elevator shaft.

“Good Lord,” she whispered into his chest. “I knew we were on the right track.” A shiver rattled her body. “She tried to kill me.”
Her mother wanted her dead.
The raw awareness was more of a shock than the attack.

“We're getting out of here,” Aidan said. “No cops.” He rolled to his feet, bringing her with him. “No statements.” He gave her a hard look. “And no arguing.”

She nodded. They were in and out of the apartment with essential gear in less than five minutes. Her back and hip protested, but she'd deal with that later. She let Aidan lead, following him up the stairs to the next floor, down the hall and into another stairwell. He pulled out a device that looked like a key fob and pressed the button.

“Signal jammer?”

He nodded. “Should mix up the building surveillance, too, if we're lucky.”

Having scoped out the egress options after they'd accepted the corporate apartment, they needed only a few minutes' head start to disappear into the city. Aidan had his gun drawn and cleared each landing until they were all the way down and outside.

At street level they deftly avoided the police and fire departments. Several blocks away, he hailed a cab.

“Airport,” he said, his voice gruff.

Frankie slid onto the seat beside him. “We can't leave,” she said. They were too close to the goal. If they gave up now, she might never have another chance. And after that near miss, she refused to let anyone off the hook. “You realize—”

He shot her a quelling glance, his eyes harder than his voice had been.

Apparently the “no argument” rule hadn't been lifted yet. Fine. The silence gave her plenty of time to calm down so she could state her case in a way that left him no room to argue with
her
.

* * *

A
IDAN
WANTED
TO
hold her and never let go. He wanted to know she was safe, that her back was fine, but those questions would wait. If he touched her now, he'd lose his mind. He forced himself to assess their surroundings as the cab inched by the chaos in front of the building they'd just escaped. There was a killer on the loose, likely watching the result of his handiwork.

Unbidden, the image of Frankie on top of the lift filled Aidan's vision and his heart slammed against his rib cage. He'd nearly lost her. Mere seconds had separated her from certain death. Even if she hadn't fallen, she would've been wiped out by the explosion.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as the cabbie hit the freeway. In ten minutes they'd be safe in a hotel. In under an hour they could be out of the state or even the country. Not that Aidan would ever convince her to leave. She didn't have her answers yet.

For the first time since he'd taken the case, he considered cornering Sophia and forcing the issue. Not smart. Not professional.

He felt the soft touch of Frankie's hand and watched her lace her fingers through his. She gave a gentle squeeze. He could barely swallow through the lump in his throat. He rubbed the band of her engagement ring with his thumb, a welcome reminder that she'd survived. They were out of danger. For how long?

The question iced his skin. They weren't dealing with speculation or theory anymore. Something they'd discovered was making someone very nervous. The next strike was inevitable and he needed to be prepared.

“I have to report this,” he said, so only she would hear him.

“Yes.”

Her agreement startled him. He told the cabbie to drive through the departure area for the next group of airlines, then on to the circuit of hotels nearby.

Satisfied they hadn't been tailed, he directed the driver to stop at the next major chain. He wasn't going to expose their escape hatch just yet. He paid the fare and, with his arm at Frankie's waist, moved directly to the check-in desk. He used a false ID and credit card, requesting a room on the first floor. He felt her watching him, but there was no way in hell he could deal with an elevator right now.

He didn't care that it was irrational, only cared about keeping her alive.

They reached the room, and the moment he'd locked the door, his patience evaporated. He dropped the bags and wrapped his arms around her. Holding her close, his hands splayed across her back, he measured every breath. She was alive. In his arms.

He released her long enough to move their gear to the bed and pull the curtains closed. When he turned back to her, she hadn't moved. He hugged her again, tucking her head to his shoulder. “I was terrified,” he confessed.

“Aidan.”

“Don't ask me to let go.” He couldn't do it, not yet. His palm moved up and down her spine, lingering too long at her lower back.

“I'm fine,” she said. Her hands slid under his jacket and fisted in his shirt. “I promise. Thank you for saving me.”

“You had it under control.” He moved just enough to tip up her chin and lay a soft kiss on her lips. Managing to push back the panic and terror, he knew the dam wouldn't hold for long. She was alive and well. He might remember that for all of five minutes without a touch or word, but he didn't want to chance it. He smoothed a loose tendril of her hair behind her ear. “I was just moral support.”

“More than that,” she whispered, gazing up at him, her eyes shining with a rush of need that matched his. She pushed her fingers into his hair and brought his mouth back to hers. Her lips parted with a sigh and his tongue swept inside, tangled with hers.

The abrasive odors of oil and machinery, explosives and the smoke grenade, clung to her hair. Her taste, sweet as honey and warm as a summer day, overwhelmed his other senses. He needed her. All of her. He needed to take her into himself and keep her safe. Always. He didn't want to think how impossible that was.

There was nothing of comfort or reassurance in this blatant mating of mouths, no simple curiosity of attraction. This kiss was full of need hemmed on all sides by sheer desperation. He'd nearly lost her before he had a chance to tell her how much she meant to him.

His hands spanned her trim waist, moved higher so her breasts filled his palms. He tweaked the hard tips through her shirt and she arched into his touch. Gripping her backside, he brought her hips close, pressing her against his erection. He bent his head and explored the softness of her skin, down the column of her throat and back up to her ear. “I need you.”