The Last in Line (The Royal Inheritance Series Book 1) (28 page)

They dragged Harry from his post in the hallway and told him what they were going to do. His eyes widened, but once he realized that Roberts was on board, he grinned and picked out a scarf. Audrey joked that he should wrap a flag around his shoulders like a cape since he was as muscled as Superman. Renee pretended not to notice the rush of color that spread over Harry’s cheeks.

Renee looked down. “I’ve got to change. I can’t go out in a silk blouse and slacks when it’s snowing out.” She snagged the God Save the Queen t-shirt on the way to her room. She pulled that on, as well as an older pair of her jeans that conformed to her body. She opted for her scuffed cowboy boots, which she hadn’t worn in months, over the black, designer ones.

Leanne waved them off from her position in front of the television.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go?” asked Renee, praying that she wouldn’t change her mind.

“No. These rollers have to set all night. I want to look faaaaabulous for the big day tomorrow.”

“Ok, see you later then. Cassandra, are you going to say goodbye?”

Cassandra crossed her arms and slumped further into the sofa cushion. Renee grabbed a tall stovepipe hat that Audrey had brought and put it on Cassandra’s head, who looked for all the world like a sulky Cat in the Hat.

“Don’t be like that, honey. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Renee kissed Cassandra lightly on the nose. Cassandra refused to acknowledge her. “Don’t stay up too late.”

“Whatever,” said Cassandra, staring forward.

Renee sighed. Her formerly easy-going daughter was becoming harder to please.

Audrey and Renee tried to muffle their giggles as they stole down the private corridor past security guard after surprised security guard. “At ease, gentleman,” said Renee and stuffed her scarf into her mouth to keep from laughing. She looked back and saw Harry nodding at them as they passed to let them know that everything was all right. “Just out for a stroll. Keep your radios on,” he said.

They took the elevator to the underground parking garage and piled into Audrey’s yellow Mini. Audrey got behind the wheel and Harry folded himself into the passenger seat.

“Oy, Roberts, drape the coat in the back over her and put this hat on. Try to smile and look like you’re enjoying yourself,” said Audrey and tossed him a newsboy cap. In the dim light of the parking garage, Roberts looked as if he had swallowed a bug, but did as Audrey advised. Renee held her breath as they pulled out of the garage, certain that the revelers on the street would peer in the car windows and see her. They had to wait a moment before they could turn onto the street due to the numbers of people swarming the area. Renee was uncomfortable crouching in the tight space. She looked up and saw Roberts staring intently out the window.

“What are you looking at?” she asked.

“Nothing. I thought somebody looked familiar.”

Renee lifted her head as high as she dared and looked in the direction that Roberts was staring in. She caught a glimpse of a pretty woman with bleached hair and heavy eyeliner, but lost her again in the crowd.

Audrey maneuvered through the crowds without incident. She drove to a pub a few blocks away and squeezed her car into an impossibly small space that had just been vacated by a scooter delivering bags of takeaway. There was a brief discussion in which Audrey insisted that Harry not bring his sidearm in the pub with them—“if anybody sees it, it’ll be game over; they’ll call the coppers”—and Harry reluctantly complied.

Snowflakes dusted their hats and shoulders, but instantly melted when they entered the warmth of the pub. Audrey sidled up to the bar to order drinks while the other three found a small, round table. The pub was crowded and most were dressed as festively as they were so they did not stand out.

Audrey returned with the drinks. “A whiskey and soda for the gent, and beers for the rest of us,” said Audrey.

Harry reached for his beer. “Ah, don’t tell me you got us Poor Dog Beer; It tastes like piss! Oh, so sorry, Ma’am. Do forgive me.” Harry looked horrified at his verbal slip up in front of Renee.

Renee smiled. “Relax and don’t call me Ma’am. This is my last night where I don’t have to be a
Ma’am
.”

“Yes, Ma—so sorry…
er
… just sorry.”

Renee laughed at how flustered Harry looked. She tipped the bottle back and the rest followed her example. She let out a tremendous, unroyal belch. “To the piss!” she said and they repeated, “To the piss” and then, surprisingly, the next table over took up the refrain and then the next and soon the entire pub was shouting “To the piss!”

“See, you’re demonstrating leadership skills already,” slurred Audrey when she finally slammed the bottle down on the table. She indicated to the bartender to bring them another round.

“My first order of business,” said Renee after she had taken a long slug from the new bottle, “will be to make this the official beer of Britain. Then you’ll have to suffer with substandard beer just like us Americans. No, I take that back. My first order of business will be to float Ray naked down the Thames. The second order of business will be to get the United States and Britain on the same page regarding our beer. It will be a major diplomatic coup.”

“This might start another war. We’re very particular about our ales and lagers,” said Audrey.

“What difference does it make as long as it gets you good and drunk, eh?” said Harry. “Next round’s on me.”

“Oh yes, we bove our litter. I mean, we love our bitter,” said Roberts. His face had taken on a slightly reddish hue.

They continued to joke and drink. A couple of televisions in the pub continuously showed pre-coronation programming. Her face was constantly on the screen and Renee tried to pull her glitter hat down a little farther. Roberts maintained his austere expression, but listed slightly to the side like a boat taking on water. At one point, the pub goers started to sing God Save the Queen and they all joined in, none heartier than Renee. Afterwards, a table of older veterans with medals on their sweaters and military pins in their caps started singing wartime ditties. To the surprise of Renee’s little group, Roberts added his voice and soon the entire pub was singing something about a tank, a girl, and a big gun.

Renee collapsed against Roberts in a fit of laughter. “I was in the Navy, you know,” he said. “Oh, the telly’s ringing, I mean, this phone thing is buzzing.” Roberts fumbled with the mobile from his pocket and Renee, who had steadier hands, took it from him, whence he began singing again in a warbly tenor. Renee pressed the button to answer and held it to her ear, with her finger in her other ear to try to hear above the bedlam.

“Hello?” she shouted. “You’ve reached the phone of a man who’s had too much to drink.”

“Hello Renee,” said a deep, purring voice on the other end. Renee immediately felt the happy buzz grow cold. The hairs on her neck stood up. “Are you enjoying the celebration? It’s once in a lifetime, you know.”

Renee glanced around her. No one was paying her any attention. Roberts had gotten up to join the old veterans, their arms thrown round each others’ shoulders, singing songs of the war.

Hitler has only got one ball

Goering has two, but very small

Himmler has something similar

And Goebbels has no balls at all!

She glanced to her other side and Harry had pulled his chair closer to Audrey so that their knees were almost touching. They were wrapped up in their own conversation.

Renee tapped Audrey on the shoulder. “I’m just running to the ladies room.” Audrey barely nodded.

Renee squeezed into the cramped ladies restroom, past women who were fluffing their hair and making kissy faces at the mirror while applying lipstick, and locked herself into a stall. She tried not to breathe in too deeply as there seemed to be something wrong with the toilet. The women left the restroom and there was only the sound of water dribbling from a faucet that had not been closed completely.

She put the phone to her ear. “How did you get this number, Bretton?”

“I asked for it, of course.”

“From who?”

“From your very charming daughter.”

Renee knew Bretton was smiling on the other end of the line, just as he surely knew that the world was now swimming in front of her eyes. She tried to find something to hold on to before she collapsed at the horrifying thought that Bretton had Cassandra. But that couldn’t be true. Cassandra was at the hotel suite with Leanne. They were watching A Merry Country Christmas. She had seen her an hour ago. He must be lying.

“I sense by your silence that you don’t believe me,” said Bretton. “Dear child, come here and say hello to your mother. You might as well throw a goodbye in there as well.”

“Mom?” came Cassandra’s voice. It was small like a mewling kitten.

“Cass? Where are you?” screamed Renee.

It was Bretton’s voice again. “Good Lord, I can hear you all the way from…well, I’ll tell you soon anyhow. But only if you don’t tell anyone else. Are you able to keep a secret, Renee?”

Renee’s hand gripped the phone. “The entire police force and army and air force will be out looking for you. I’ve got the goddamned Texas Rangers at my command right now. You let her go or you will be hunted down like an animal.”

Renee was breathing hard. She had never before wanted to tear a person apart with her bare hands.

“Texans have such a way with words. So confident. So full of bravado. So likely to get your daughter killed. There, do I have your attention now?”

Renee leaned her forehead against the bathroom stall door. “What do you want? You can have anything. Do you want the crown? It’s yours. I’ll abdicate immediately. Just let her go.”

“As touching as that gesture is, it’s a case of too little, too late. I wouldn’t be allowed the crown, no matter the justice of it. No, I have other things in mind.” The way Bretton said it made her stomach churn. The images of the women he’d slaughtered swam before her eyes. His velvety voice purred in her ear again. “And if I even suspect you’ve notified the authorities or a single member of your security team, I’ll kill the little princess immediately. Do you understand?”

Renee nodded.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Yes, I understand,” said Renee, her voice breaking.

“Excellent,” he said jovially. “Go to the Piccadilly Station and get on the second car of the train going to Oakwood. Keep the phone with you because I will call you again to give you more instructions.”

“But—”

Bretton had hung up. Oh, God, this could not be happening. A psychopath had her little girl. She was surrounded by security, but she could tell no one. Bretton had said he would kill Cassandra if she did, but she had to tell Chase; he would know what to do. She dialed his number rapidly. It went straight to voice mail. Shit! Before she could say anything, the bathroom door opened, letting in a group of laughing women and the noise of the pub, and she quickly hung up. Renee punched the stall door out of frustration.

“Just let it out easy,” said an Irish-tinged voice. “Relax and let nature take its course.” This was followed by a chorus of laughter.

Renee walked out of the stall, ashen-faced, and unsteady on her feet.

“That one must have been a monster,” said the one with the Irish voice and the women cackled. They smelled of cigarette smoke and beer.

Renee went back into the crowded pub. Light bounced off of Christmas ornaments and tinsel draped along the shelves, it caught the glitter of the silly hats and glinted off of glasses full of false joy; the televisions flashed from image to image; the music played and people sang. Everywhere there was noise and light and celebration. Tonight was Christmas Eve and friends, and tomorrow would be the drowsy warmth of Christmas Day and the solemn glory of the Coronation.

But Renee felt none of it.

All of her thoughts now were focused on finding her daughter. She had to think of how to get away without anyone knowing.

Renee faked a yawn and announced she was tired. The others gathered themselves up to go, stumbling only occasionally on the way to the car. Audrey drove into the parking garage of the hotel, stopping to show her identification to the guard, but he waved them through when Audrey pointed her thumb at Renee. Only Rene and Harry got out of the car as Audrey would drive Roberts home. “I’ll be here first thing in the morning,” said Roberts, his eyes half-closed. Renee nodded, not knowing if she would be there. She was having a hard time keeping herself from shaking. Fifteen interminable minutes had passed since she had hung up from Bretton. She needed to see if he was telling the truth; she needed to check if Cassandra was in the suite. Harry stood beside Renee as they rode up the elevator, a lopsided grin on his face. Renee knew that this was because Audrey had given him a quick peck on the cheek before he got out of the car. The elevator doors opened and Renee clapped her hand over her mouth.

“What the…?” said Harry.

John was sprawled on the floor on his back, his eyes glassy and vacant. Another guard at the end of the hallway was also down.

Bretton had been here!

Renee ran to John, but there was nothing she could do. He had been shot twice. Harry checked the other guard. Dead. Then he came back and bent over John to check for a pulse, but that was quickly abandoned. Renee leaned against a hallway table for support.