She Does Know Jack (33 page)

“I…I…don’t
know,” the man stammered. “I was just told to take a plate and serve it.”

She glanced
around the room. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson stood talking. The production crew
scratched their heads and the servers appeared confused.

Matthew turned
to the kitchen. “Where’s the cook? I’d like a word with him.”

“Me, too.”
Jack’s face darkened.

“What’s all the
commotion?” The chef rushed into the room, then stopped dead at the sight of
his unfinished dishes and frogs swimming in the table’s centerpiece. “My meal!
What happened to my meal?” he cried, grabbing his head as he stepped toward the
table, disbelief slacking his jaw.

Jack rounded on
him. “You tell me. Any idea how your meal managed to hop off the plate?”

“No. I prepared
chicken
cordon bleu
not frogs-a-la-hopping.” The portly man glowered.
“This is a travesty! The entrées were fine when I covered the plates and placed
them on the counter for the servers to bring in.”

Jack shook his
head and sighed. “You’d better show me where.”

He turned toward
the swinging kitchen door, but didn’t get far as Rodriguez rushed in from the
hall, his expression bleak.

“Wait,” his
right hand man insisted, his face impassive, but there was an undercurrent of
urgency to his tone. “You need to see this, sir.”

Brielle’s heart
hit the roof of her mouth. Now what? She rushed out behind them into the hall,
then stopped dead.

“Shit!” Breath
hissed through Jack’s teeth.

A black,
strapless Jimmy Choo heel lay next to an overturned plant. Brielle drew in a
deep breath and approached the scene. No blood, no other signs of a struggle
except for a discarded shoe and knocked-over ficus.

“That’s Mandy’s
shoe,” Matthew said from behind. “Where is she?”

Brielle turned
and watched his gaze dart around the foyer. For the first time since she’d met
him, Matthew’s brown eyes held no trace of amusement. Apprehension and fear
darkened the normally sparkling depths. Her heart squeezed. She wished her gut
had a happy answer.

Sophia came up
from behind and placed a hand on his arm. “I remember she’d spilled her drink.
She’s probably in the bathroom washing it off.”

Matthew frowned.
“Without her shoe?” He shook his head and stepped toward the bathroom.

But Brielle knew
the woman wasn’t there. “Don’t bother,” she said, hating this part of the job.

Matthew stopped
and turned to her, his brows knitted together. “Why not?”

All eyes focused
on Brielle.

“Because of
this.” She toed a speck of yellow peeping from under the mound of spilled
potting soil.

Matthew paled
and stumbled back. “Not another threat.”

“Son-of-a-bitch!”
Jack clenched his fist and stepped closer. “The frogs were a distraction.” His
angry expression turned puzzled. “But how did the perpetrator know Mandy would
come out here?”

“Distraction?
You mean she was grabbed?” Matthew rounded on Jack, his eyes wild. “By whom?
Who grabbed her?”

“I don’t know,
Matthew. I don’t even know if she was grabbed.” Jack placed a hand on his
brother’s shoulder and spoke calmly. “Let me do my job, and I’ll find out.”

Not wanting to
intrude on the brothers, but knowing time was of the essence, Brielle cleared
her throat. “Maybe the note will shed some light.”

“Yes, that’s
right.  Let’s see what the freak has to say.” Thin-lipped, Matthew bent down.

Jack, Brielle
and Rodriguez all tried to stop him. “No, Matthew! Don’t!” They cried, but it
was too late. He’d already tainted the evidence by grabbing the note. He stood,
and with the flick of his wrist, dirt fell to the floor while the paper
unfolded.

Roses are red
and so is her dress, if you want Mandy back, then it’s time to confess.

B
rielle had long ago given up on the
notes making sense. The only constant was that they got weirder every time.

“Confess? What
the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jack turned to Matthew, eyes narrowed
beneath a troubled brow. “Is there something you need to share?”

“No!” Matthew
shook his head, thrusting a hand through his hair, shoving the note at Jack. “I
don’t know what this means. He’s nuts!”

“Or she,” Jack
stated, glancing from the yellow paper to the foyer now filled with production
crew. “Okay, this circus is hereby canceled. Everyone in the dining room. Now!”

Brielle didn’t
waste any time. She twisted around and rushed back into the room. They needed
to get moving, and she needed to extract the gun from her purse. This
investigation just took a definite turn. It had gone from bothersome to
dangerous in the drop of a shoe. She reached the table and stopped dead.

It was gone.

Oh God. No.
Nonononono. It can’t be gone.
Her heart was back to beating outside
her chest again as she glanced frantically around the room.

Mandy’s Prada,
Sophia’s Dooney and Bourke, and a frog-filled vase sat on the table…but no sign
of Brielle’s gun-concealing purse. Dammit!

Don’t panic
, she told
herself, and glanced around again as people filed into the room. Her gaze shot
to the kitchen door. Maybe the staff moved it when they cleared the plates from
the table.

“Rodriguez,
secure the building.”

She heard Jack
bark while her eyes searched the floor for the beaded clutch. Maybe it had
fallen.

“Yes, sir.”

“Send someone to
the security room to check the cameras for Mandy. I want two men to stay here
and guard this room; the rest will help search the house.” Jack spun around to
include the production crew in his gaze. “
No one
leaves.”

Brielle
swallowed, wondering how in the world she was going to tell Jack about her gun.
This created a dangerous complication.

“I’m going with
you,” Matthew stated, crossing his arms over his chest in an uncharacteristic
show of defiance.

Her mouth opened,
but Jack answered first. “No, you’re not. You stay with the group under guard.”
Jack narrowed a hard gaze on his brother. “That’s an order. We don’t know what
we’re dealing with other than someone’s obsessed with you.”

Matthew clenched
his fists. “But I want to help find Mandy. Look, Jack, Brielle, I know I’m not
qualified, but that girl means a lot to me, and if anything has happened to her
because of me—”

“Don’t,” Brielle
cut him off, placing a hand on his arm. “Don’t even go down that road, Matthew.
None of this is your fault. Do you hear me?”

He gave a small
nod and studied his shoes.

“Listen to your
brother. The sooner you’re safe, the sooner we can start searching.”

She met Jack’s
gaze and held it, along with her breath. For a brief moment, she thought he was
going to deny her permission to search, but he apparently realized he needed
all the help he could get and nodded. She just hoped he felt that way when she
told him about her missing gun.

“All right.”
Matthew let out a breath and grasped Jack’s shoulder. “Just, please find her.”

“We will.” The
confidence in Jack’s voice even made a believer out of Brielle, and she knew
their chances were only as good as the culprit would allow.

Eager to find
answers, they turned, but before they reached the kitchen door, Bill
intercepted them.

“Look, Jack, I
understand you’re doing your job, but you have to understand, I need to do
mine, too.”

“No.”

“Yes. Now, hear
me out.” Bill’s hands shot up in a stop position as Jack advanced. “Just take
one cameraman with you, just one.”

“No…Jesus, Bill.
I don’t have time to babysit your crew. We’ve got a girl missing, here,” Jack
snapped, clenching his fists. “I don’t give a—”

“Jack.” Brielle
stepped between them, not to save Bill, but to stop Jack from finishing his
sentence. She completely agreed with him, but had a thought. “We’ll take one.
We’ll take Phil.”

“But—”

She turned to
Jack and leveled him a look. “You never know what they may catch.” And she
didn’t trust that cameraman. Better to have him near to keep an eye on him…and
far away from Matthew.

Reluctance
entered Jack’s eyes. “Fine, just Phil, but I’m not responsible for his safety.
The rest of you stay here and do as my men say.”

Arms folded
across his chest, jaw set, feet shoulder-width apart, his stance meant
business.
Sex on a stick
. Brielle’s pulse jumped despite the dour
circumstances. He was so damn hot taking charge with his firm voice and
flashing eyes. Jeez. She really was so easy when it came to him.

Needing to
derail that train of thought, Brielle turned and strode into the kitchen
without waiting for Jack. She wanted a moment to
de-Dodger
her senses.
If that were possible. Nodding to the men already investigating, she refocused
and started searching for her purse.

“Please be in
here.”

“Do you always
wish out loud in an investigation?” Jack asked from behind.

She stiffened.
Shoot. That was quick. She was still hot-n-bothered…and gunless. He needed to
know. Not the hot-n-bothered part. But the gunless…yeah. 
Please don’t
kill
me
, she silently prayed, then slowly turned around. As much as she wanted
to live, she had to tell him.

 “Only when my
gun turns up missing.”

He went still.
Very still. And developed a small tic in his right eye. Oh boy. Not good.

“Your gun is
missing?”

Deathly quiet,
his tone sent shivers down her arms. Visible shivers. Dammit. She swallowed.

“Yes.”

The build up
from holding back a response must’ve been too much because suddenly, his fist
smacked the counter and rumbled through the trays of uneaten food. “How the
hell could you let that happen?”

Okay, that
wasn’t so bad. All movement in the room ceased as his men glanced in their
direction.

“I didn’t
let
that happen,” she argued, drawing herself up to her full height, and the
four-inch heels helped. They were nearly eye-level now. “I was forced to carry
my Glock in—”

“Glock?” he
interrupted, then closed his eyes and cursed when she nodded. “Why the hell
couldn’t you just be a damn contestant?”

Her lips
twitched. “Me? A little Miss Dance Instructor from Sacramento?”

He opened his
eyes and nodded.

She laughed.
“Sorry, Jack. I’m a gun-toting, security specialist with black belts in
Tae
Kwon Do
and
Kung Fu, and
a degree in Criminal Justice.”

Jack’s brows
rose higher with each attribute, and so did her temper when he spoke.

“Then tell me
how someone as smart as you could lose their gun?”

She opened her
mouth, then closed it and counted to ten. Twice. Now wasn’t the time to speak
her mind. They needed to find Mandy. “As I was explaining before you
interrupted, I normally strap my gun here.” She hiked up her skirt and pointed
to her thigh.

An appreciative
gleam entered Jack’s gaze before his mask of cool indifference fell into place
along with her dress. He glanced at the men still interested in their exchange.
Or rather, her legs.

“Get back to
work,” he snapped. “Haven’t you ever seen a woman’s leg before?” He turned back
to her and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Look, Brielle, we’re wasting time.
Where are you going with this?”

“I’m trying to
tell you that whoever took my gun…
knew
about it.” She watched the vein
in his neck pulse when he clamped his jaw tight. “I never carry my weapon in a
purse, but was forced to tonight because my garter holster mysteriously
vanished the other day—hence the running of fingerprints from my dresser.”

“So, you’re
saying someone who knows you use a thigh holster deliberately took it to get
you to put your gun in a purse tonight?”

“Yes, that’s
exactly what I’m saying.” She stepped closer. “I came in here hoping my purse
had gotten cleared from the table with the plates, but as you can see, it
hasn’t.” She waved to their cold dinner littering the counter. “I just find it
odd that mine’s the only purse missing. Mandy’s and your mother’s are still out
there on the table.”

Jack let out a
breath and squeezed the back of his neck before he pulled out his phone and
spoke into the radio feature. “Be advised, perpetrator may be armed. Repeat,
perpetrator may be armed.”

“Copy that,”
crackled through several times.

Jack slipped the
phone into his pocket and stared at her. “Maybe you’d better stay with Matthew
and my parents.”

She blinked,
surprised by the concern in his voice and eyes. “No. I’ve got to find Mandy and
my gun.”

He blew out
another breath. “All right. Fine. Let’s go. We’ve wasted too much time
already.” 

“I know.”
Keeping her anxiety for the blonde in check, Brielle followed him from the
kitchen. She knew the rules. Knew how to work a case. Worry for the victim held
no place in this type of investigation. She needed a level head.

“Rodriguez,
what’s the status? Any luck with the cameras?” Jack asked when they approached
the man in the foyer.

“Negative on the
cameras, sir. They’re all down.”

“What?”

“Nothing but
snow on them. Hawkins is inspecting the equipment for the problem.”

“Fine. What
else?”

“Nothing so far,
sir,” Rodriguez replied. “We’ve got this floor covered and part of the west
wing upstairs.”

Jack nodded.
“We’ll go up and start in the east wing. Keep me posted.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jack took the
stairs two at a time. An act much tougher for Brielle in her heels, but she
managed to keep up. When they rounded the corner upstairs, they stopped in
front of the first door in their hall and took up position.

“I’ll go high
and hit the lights, you go low,” Jack said.

Brielle nodded,
and together they burst into the room to find nothing. This went on for several
minutes. She let out a frustrated groan. They’d swept through five rooms
already with no sign of the blonde.

“Where can Mandy
be?”

Jack shook his
head. “No idea. But she’s still in this house.”

“How do you
know?” She moved toward him from the corner of the recreation room they were
searching.

“Because, the
alarm is still on and only Rodriquez and I have the code to disarm it,” he
explained. “That call I got earlier was from Rodriguez informing me the place
was secured. So, I left the gathering room to reset the code, then came back.”

“And gave Mandy
her second scr…” Brielle paused to clear her throat. “Drink.”

Jack’s lips
twitched. “Yes.”

“I hope she’s
okay, Jack.” Brielle closed her eyes and swallowed. “If anything happens to her
with my gun…” Her voice trailed off, too sickened to continue.

God, she
couldn’t think like that or she’d never be able to function.

“Hey, look at
me.”

A warm finger
slid under her chin and tipped her face up. When she opened her eyes, more
warmth met her gaze.

“She’ll be
fine.”

Brielle wanted
to believe him, but knew the variables were too many. Anything could happen.
“Thank you,” she said, before he nodded and dropped his hand. Her mind refused
to slip into that
Dodger
haze. Not now. She had to think of Mandy.
Instead, she ran through the activities of the night as she headed for the
door. “I can’t believe I let myself be separated from my gun like some rookie.”

“Don’t be too
hard on yourself,” Jack said, following her to the next room. “Seems to me
someone knew exactly how to get your weapon.”

She stopped and
shook her head. “That’s what scares me. Who? I don’t think the other
contestants were aware I was packing a gun under my dresses on this show.”

“Hell, even
I
didn’t know that.” He turned to her, a shocking amount of heat suddenly blazing
through his eyes. “You didn’t have one on the night we…”

She swallowed.
“I left it in my room before I snuck up to dance.”

“Oh.” His gaze
dropped to her mouth.

Her breath
caught. Oh Lordy. She longed to reach out and touch him—to clear the air, to
taste him.

“We need to keep
searching.” He seemed to have trouble ripping his gaze away. But he did, then
strode to the next door.

Brielle
swallowed down desire and disappointment, and discovered when mixed, they
tasted bitter. She couldn’t take much more of his swinging moods. They were
hell on her already frayed emotions.