Seduced by Sunday (15 page)

Good thing Lou showed up when he did. There was no telling what kind of bodily harm Meg was about to evoke on the man she’d kissed. She’d even cooked for him, for God’s sake.

To learn that the first picture had shown up the day after they arrived on the island and she was just now hearing about it ticked her off.

Lou wore a three-piece suit similar to Val’s. Only Lou had a shitload of body behind his threads. He looked familiar, too.

Val handed Lou the picture. “I want to know exactly where that was taken.”

“Right away, Mr. Masini.”

He turned to leave and Meg jumped in front of him. “You’re the main guy . . . right? Security?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The man was taller than her, and impossible to look around. Common sense told her to filter her words. “Sweep the villa. Make sure there are no bugs.”

Lou looked beyond her.

She waved a hand in front of his eyes. “Now, Mr. Myong. I need to know no one is listening to me pee.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Meg followed him into the villa, leaving Michael and Ryder outside. Val followed.

Val had Lou helping him out . . . but Meg had more resources. She’d never been happier about her connections than at that moment.

She picked up the phone.

“Who are you calling?” Val asked.

“Backup.”

Rick answered with his usual, “Hey.”

“Rick, just the man I need to talk to.”

“Hey, Meg. How’s paradise?”

She rubbed her forehead. “I need to know if this line is secure.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Shit.”

“Double shit.”

“Margaret?” Val said behind her.

“Zip it, Masini.” The line clicked a few times. Worry crawled up Meg’s spine. “You there?”

“I am. My line is clear. I sent word to Neil. Call him and he’ll do a second check,” Rick said.

“Got it.”

“Call me back if we’re clear.”

“I will.”

She hung up, dialed Neil’s number, and went through the same routine. Neil was less than jovial. “You’re clear.”

“Thanks, Neil.”

“Can you talk?”

She looked around the room, worried that ears were hidden behind a clock. “I don’t know yet.”

“Contact us when you know.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I will.”

She hung up only to start dialing Rick again.

“Why do I have the feeling the secret service has invaded your body?” Val asked.

She thought of the different marriages she’d arranged, the enormity of wealth and power behind those people . . . her friends. Judy, Michael . . . her boss, Samantha. Maybe the loyalty card hadn’t skipped her, just bounced away from her blood relatives and moved to her friends.

“The secret service would be lucky to have me,” she told him without a thread of humor.

Rick answered on the first ring. “I’m going to hand the phone to Lou. He’s Valentino Masini’s head of security. Make sure this guy can back up his bulk, won’t you?”

“You got it. Judy wants you to know we can be there in four and a half hours.”

She smiled. “Have Sam’s pilot on standby.”

“You got it.”

Meg found Lou in her bedroom searching through everything. “Talk to Rick. Give him your name.”

“Beg your pardon, Miss Rosenthal but—”

“It’s OK, Lou,” Val said from the doorway.

Meg eased up her temper. “He’s a retired Marine who specializes in security, Lou. Maybe he can help you find anything that might be lurking.”

Only when Val nodded did Lou take the phone from her and put it to his ear.

The villa was clear . . . and even if they missed something miniscule, Lou had a jamming device that left a high-pitched feed inside the space that affected any outside feeds. Meg insisted her cell phone return to her purse, and once Rick did another check on that and deemed it empty of covert ears, she took it outside to talk to her friends.

Once she brought them up to date on the situation she encouraged Rick to relay to Sam any and every possible check on Sapore di Amore that hadn’t already been done.

“I think I should be there, check for myself where the breach is taking place.”

“Let me see what we can do here without you.”

“I don’t like it,” Judy said from a second line in their home.

“I don’t like it either. Michael hasn’t said much, but he’s worried.”

“Maybe I should talk to him.” As his sister, Judy might be able to help. But Michael and Ryder were strolling along the shore in deep conversation. They were walking yards apart, but she could still see that they weren’t paying attention to anything but each other’s words. “I’ll suggest he call you if he needs to.”

She ended the conversation and walked into the living room, where Val was on his phone. “Everyone, Carol. No one leaves or enters the island without talking to
me
first. Our employees know about a lockdown drill. Tell them it’s a drill.”

Val ended his conversation with his secretary and placed his phone in the inside pocket of his suit.

Meg felt Val’s hand on her shoulder.

She jumped and he dropped it to his side. “I will find who is behind this.”

“
We
. . . we will find the photographer.”

“I’m not convinced they’re looking at you,
cara
.”

“I’m the link in the pictures. If I were a senator’s wife, there’d be hell to pay.” She needed to write stuff down to keep it right in her head. She shuffled through the drawers in the kitchen. There was a pad of paper somewhere. She’d seen it when they checked in.

“What are you looking for?”

She pulled the complimentary pad of paper from the drawer and snagged a pen. “Found it. I’m going to need a computer with Internet access.”

“Margaret—”

“Don’t even think of denying me. We both have something to lose here if we don’t figure out who is doing this crap.”

“What exactly do
you
have to lose, Margaret?”

She hesitated, not appreciating the position she was in. “Alliance arranges contractual agreements between exclusive clients.”

“In English,
cara
.”

“We arrange marriages. Temporary marriage contracts between two consenting adults.”

“Like a call service?”

She snapped her gaze to his. “Sex is not part of the contract. Ever. It’s a business agreement like any other. And the outside world believes the marriages are made out of love.”

Val ran a hand over his chin. “And why would someone need this kind of arrangement?”

Meg rolled her eyes. “Look around you, Masini . . . use your imagination.”

His eyes lit up when understanding dawned.

She removed three sheets and wrote on the top of them. Michael, Meg, Masini . . .

“Both pictures had me in them.” She wrote pictures times two on the paper with her name. Picture times one on each of the others.

Val stepped forward and took the pen from her hand and scribbled out the one on his paper and wrote a two. “A lone shot of me was taken.”

Meg scowled. “Anything else you’re not telling me, Masini?”

“Nope, I think that’s it.”

Trusting this man was becoming more and more difficult. She looked at the papers again, grabbed the pen back. “Who is threatened by the actual pictures?”

It wouldn’t hurt her reputation if a shot of her and Val circulated . . . nor would it hurt to be found at Michael’s side. She shoved her page aside and took Michael’s. Of the actual pictures, Michael’s rep wasn’t compromised. She took Masini’s page. “Kissing me isn’t the end of the world, but if word got out that pictures were being taken here, your resort might become painfully empty.”

She jotted her thoughts on the papers and kept going.

Val watched her in silence.

It was obvious that Michael and Masini had the most to lose if more pictures were taken. Could whoever was taking them have more that they were waiting to reveal?

“The paparazzi would have already circulated the pictures if the media took them. So I think we can rule out that angle. Another guest?”

Val paced the room. “I’ll draw a list of names of those here with something to hide. We can rule them out. The others, who knows?”

“Made any enemies getting where you are? Anyone ticked that you made all of this happen?”

“Jealousy? You think someone wants to bring me down out of envy?”

“It’s one of the most basic of sins, Masini. I suggest you dig back in your diary and see if you’ve shoved someone a little hard.”

“If I had, wouldn’t they have taken pictures of obvious indiscretions? Why snap a photo of me walking on the shore, or kissing
a beautiful woman? Wouldn’t it be better to find a senator’s wife, as you put it?”

“That’s a good question.” She wrote it on his paper and circled it. “Michael and I are a link . . . why?”

“Ryder’s first instinct was to flee. Maybe that’s what the photographer wants,” Val said.

“Maybe Michael knows someone on the island who doesn’t want him to know they’re here.” Meg wrote the lead down.

“Plausible.”

“We haven’t spent much time in the common areas of the hotel. Maybe we should.”

She flipped over the papers and sat in one of the kitchen chairs. “Now, let’s talk blackmail and monetary gain.”

Chapter Twelve

Gabi felt her brother’s frustration as keenly as if it were her own. The island resort might not be hers, but she was part of it and would do anything to keep what her brother had built on the island intact.

She worked by Carol’s side to determine who had arrived on the island, and who might have left and come back during the time the Wolfe party had arrived. Three flights had landed and taken off again. The flight staff never left the building on the tarmac. Most of the guests took the charter to Key West and flew from there.

There were daily deliveries that brought familiar faces to the island. Most never left the dock. Still, Gabi spent her early evening interviewing the staff in charge of taking deliveries and greeting those who serviced the island.

“Thank you for your understanding.” Gabi shook the hand of Adam, their head of deliveries. Nothing entered the island without his knowledge. At least in the organic nature.

“I like my job, Miss Masini. If this
drill
will help me keep it, I’m not going to complain.”

He was the third person who’d alluded to the drill being something more. Maybe it was because of the intensity of questions, or how Lou brought in everyone on his security team to take part in the “drill.”

The first set of employees changing shifts had been interviewed, and slowly filtered onto the off-island charter. Security double-checked their bags and thanked them for their understanding.

Gabi tried desperately hard to smile and thank their staff for their patience as they exited the island. Security interviewed the oncoming staff before they moved to their designated work areas.

When she had a moment to breathe, Gabi took a walk in the warehouse.

She looked at the pallets of food, drinks, cleaning supplies, office supplies . . . any- and everything needed to make the island run. She rounded the corner to find Julio standing over several wine crates. Seeing him placed a smile on her face. “Hello, Julio.”

Alonzo’s cocaptain of his yacht wasn’t a big man. At maybe five foot eleven, he carried an extra thirty pounds for his frame, but he had a nice enough smile. She’d only met the man a couple of times.

“Miss Masini.” He seemed shocked to see her there.

“Did Alonzo come early?” His yacht wasn’t at the dock and hadn’t been all day.

“No, ah . . . he’s due tomorrow.”

Strange. “How is it you’re here?”

“I fell ill last week when we pulled in. Mr. Masini offered me a place to recover. Close quarters of the yacht would have made everyone sick.”

That made sense. “You’re feeling better, I hope.”

“Much. Thank you. Looking forward to getting back to work.”

Her gaze fell on the crates of wine. “I really hope that wine hasn’t been in here since Alonzo was here.” It should have been moved to the cellars, where the wine was kept at the right temperature.

Julio shifted his eyes to the crates.

Gabi looked at the back of the boxes and placed her hand on the sides. They were cool to the touch, as if they’d been placed in the warehouse recently.

“Perhaps Mr. Picano wanted them?”

“That’s silly.” Gabi walked to the end of the aisle and saw Adam walking away. “Adam?”

The man turned, started her way. Once at her side she pointed at the crates. “Do you know why these are sitting here and not the cellar?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“Someone must have made a mistake. Can you see that they’re moved back underground? I’d hate for it to spoil in the heat.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you. I’m going to find my brother and see how much longer we’re going to run the drill.”

Adam lifted a brow as if unconvinced. “I’ll keep the pace here.”

Carol interrupted Gabi’s path, asking her to intervene with some of the female staff who weren’t happy about their purses being searched.

An hour later, and the threat of the ladies’ jobs being placed on hold until the drill was completed if they refused a simple search, and Gabi was ready for more than a sparrow’s portion of food. And perhaps a tiny cocktail . . . or two.