“Keep watching,” the man on the other end of the two-way radio said. “All hell’s breaking loose up here. We don’t need more.”
What kind of hell? I wanted to ask. Instead, I replied in a voice unlike my own, “Yes, sir.”
The airway went silent.
Under the fog, even the sliver of moon did little to illuminate the transmitter in my hand. I swiped the screen and checked for other stations, other information.
What had he meant by all hell breaking loose?
As I squinted toward the red numbers, I noticed the blood smeared on my knuckles. I flexed my hand, assessing if the blood was Stan’s or mine. Though my hand was tight, my bones were intact. The breaking I’d heard was most definitely his cheekbone and the blood undoubtedly came from his nose.
One last look at Stan and I took a deep breath. He’d wake in a few minutes or a few hours. Either way, I needed to be sure he wouldn’t tell anyone about me, not until Charli and I were far away.
Another search of his pockets yielded a phone and wallet. I threw both items out of reach. I removed his jacket, and then with the help of his shoestrings, I tied his wrists behind him. His belt worked well to secure his ankles.
When Mr. Fitzgerald’s top-notch security guard woke, he’d be propped against a tree at the side of the path, his phone and wallet out of reach with no way to stand or walk for help.
After one last check of his pockets, I turned back toward the manor. This time I was wearing a Montague Manor security jacket, courtesy of my friend Stan.
Instead of running full force as I had after the shock of having Chelsea, not Charli, in my grasp, I moved quickly but cautiously, watching the perimeter, looking for movement, and listening.
The closer I got to my destination, the thicker the fog became. All I could make out was a lake to my side and the manor looming overhead. The condensation continued to distort my vision. I imagined Charli running toward me as Chelsea had. I longed to call out to her, but feared alerting more of the Montague security.
The invasion I planned was solo. Though Isaac had wanted to come along, I’d refused. If this were to fail, I was the one who’d breached the property. I sent him back to the car with Chelsea. If all went as I wanted, I’d call for him to come and pick us up. My Charli didn’t deserve to be sneaking off her own property.
When I’d first seen Chelsea, I was too shocked to look at her, really look at her. But as Isaac reached for her, telling me to let her go, I saw what Charli had told me, what Deloris had discussed. I saw Chelsea’s bruised cheek. Granted in the dim light, I hadn’t seen it as well as I could, but I knew that everyone had been right. Edward Spencer had done that to her.
Though I’d released some fury on the security guy who’d tried to stop me, I had plenty pent up for the asshole up at the manor. He deserved to get some of, if not more than, what he’d given.
Step by step, I moved closer to my goal. My ears were tuned to the world around me. For a city boy, I had a sense of nature. As long as the frogs and crickets made noise, the coast was clear. It was when they stilled that I did too. It was part of how I sensed Stan.
Now that our encounter was past tense, I was relieved I hadn’t found a gun. Even if I had, it wouldn’t have stopped my determination. I told myself to proceed with caution. Just because Stan had no weapon didn’t mean that all of Montague security went unarmed.
The crickets stilled as voices began to register. I stepped in the shadow of the tree line and moved slowly toward the light. No longer was the path hard-packed dirt. It had morphed into a thick, lush lawn beneath my shoes. The moist grass muffled my steps as I progressed slowly forward.
In the near distance were people, many people, all dressed in their finest. They were clustered in groups, their voices hushed yet anxious.
It was then I heard someone coming from behind. Spinning, I saw his jacket, the same as the one I now wore.
“What the hell—”
Crack!
I shook out my right hand as another guard hit the ground. This one at least had cushy grass, which was more than my friend Stan had. I knelt beside his wilted body, making sure that he too was unconscious. He was, but fuck. I didn’t have time to keep tying them up. And lucky for him, I’d missed his nose. I grabbed him under his arms and dragged him back into the trees. Same routine, phone and wallet. I plucked the Bluetooth from his ear and found the transmitter. The lake I’d noticed earlier was only a few yards away. Casually, I dropped the transmitter and phone into the water, the ripples fading into the mist as they sunk to the depths.
The house—fucking mansion—was huge. For a brief moment I recalled my earlier assumptions about Charli. How could I have been so wrong? Looking up at this place, my dad’s assessment had been right. It was a palace and Charli was American royalty. In this world of old money, her blood was blue.
I pushed those thoughts away, not giving a damn about her heritage. All that mattered, more than the air needed to fill my lungs, was that she was safe and in my arms. We’d work out the rest as long as we were together.
The guests were gathered in clusters on the upper patio and the lawn below. Their sheer numbers created a rumble while the blue flashes I’d noticed earlier illuminated the thick air. Barely audible above the din of collective murmurs was the whirl of propellers. It wasn’t loud enough to be helicopters. No, weaving in and out of the fog were drones, filming, recording whatever was happening.
Some of the guests pointed to the sky while others seemed unaware. Mindful to stay out of not only the people’s sight but also the drones’ cameras, I moved quietly, making my way away from the crowd and around the far end of the mansion. With each step toward the front, the flashing lights grew brighter, saturating the fog with an omnipresent blue. Peering around the final corner toward the front driveway, I saw them: one, two… I continued to count. There were seven police cars with their lights flashing in front of the mansion.
My heart raced as I contemplated various reasons for their presence.
Was Charli all right? Did this have to do with Adelaide? Had Magnolia Woods tipped off Mr. Fitzgerald?
Taking a step back into the shadows, I removed my phone from my pants pocket. I’d had it on silent.
I swiped the screen.
The red number alerted me of my numerous text messages.
First message from Oren: “WE’RE TAKING OFF NOW. SHE’S STILL UNCONSCIOUS. LET ME KNOW ABOUT ALEX.”
Text message from Isaac: “CHELSEA SAID IF ALEX HASN’T LEFT, SHE IS STILL ON THE MAIN LEVEL. CHELSEA IS SCARED BUT SAFE.”
Text message from Patrick: “FUCK. SOMETHING HAPPENED. ARE YOU SURE YOU GOT AUNT ADELAIDE? ALTON JUST TOOK ALEX AND SPENCE TO HIS OFFICE. FIRST FLOOR, EAST WING. SHE’D BEEN JUST ABOUT TO LEAVE.”
I held my breath as I scrolled.
Text message from Patrick: “POLICE ARE HERE. THEY’RE ASKING FOR SPENCE AND UNCLE ALTON. THE STAFF IS TRYING TO KEEP THEM AWAY. GUESTS ARE GOING CRAZY. THIS IS FUCKED UP.”
Text message from Patrick: “I SAW HER. SHE’S OK. SHE’S STILL IN HIS OFFICE. POLICE ARE THERE.”
Text message from Deloris: “DON’T GET ARRESTED. USE YOUR HEAD.”
Fuck her. Fuck them all.
At least I knew Charli was still there, seemingly safe in her stepfather’s office.
I sent a text to Patrick: “I’M HERE. WHERE ARE YOU?”
Patrick: “THANK GOD. THEY CORRALLED US TO THE BACK. SOMETHING IS HAPPENING UPFRONT.”
Me: “THERE ARE SEVEN POLICE CARS.”
Patrick: “WHERE ARE YOU?”
Me: “NEAR THE FRONT OF THE MANSION.”
Patrick: “OUTSIDE? I’M COMING AROUND.”
Me: “LEFT SIDE IF FACING FRONT.”
With my back against the side of the house, I gripped my phone tighter. I was prepared to walk into a party, but not past a shitload of policemen. And then it hit me.
I sent another text. To Deloris: “HOW DID YOU KNOW THERE WOULD BE POLICE?”
Delor
is: “IT’S ON THE NEWS.”
“Shit, I almost walked right past you.” Patrick’s voice stopped me from replying to Deloris.
I stood taller as Patrick slipped into the shadows.
“What the fuck is happening?”
“I don’t know. Are you sure Aunt Adelaide and Chelsea are safe.”
I nodded. “Yes, I just read the texts. Now I need Charli.”
We both stepped quietly from around the corner of the house at the sound of voices. Still within the shadows, the scene played out in our full view. Edward Spencer was being led toward a waiting police car with his hands secured behind his back.
“Fuck!” Patrick whispered.
“Take me back around,” I whispered. “With all the chaos back there, I can slip inside the manor with you.”
Patrick nodded. “Take off that security coat. I’m not going to ask how you got it.”
“Good,” I said as I shrugged it from my shoulders.
He eyed me up and down. “I think this is the first time I feel better dressed.”
Only Patrick would think about our attire during a time like this.
“Follow me…” he began.
Suddenly we both stopped as the police cars began to move. One by one, like a parade, they drove away from the manor and toward the front gate.
“I wonder what in the hell happened,” Patrick said. “This place is a madhouse.”
“Just get me inside…”
Before we took off toward the back, the LED-blue cast of headlights skirted the front of the mansion. With our backs against the limestone we stood and waited as a long black limousine came up the driveway.
Patrick tugged at my sleeve. “Come on.”
“No,” I growled. Whatever was happening, it was big. I felt it in my soul.
Patrick sucked in a deep breath as another fuck flew from his lips.
Fuck was right.
I’d seen the pictures, the surveillance. I knew these damn people better than I knew my own family. The woman leading the way, the first to descend the front steps, was Suzanna, Edward’s mother. Dabbing her eyes, she was a step ahead of the other voices as they made their way toward the bottom of the steps. Slowly the car came to a stop and an older driver walked to the rear and held open the door.
It was as the others came into view that my blood heated, going from ninety-eight to 212 degrees in a second flat. Heat radiated from my skin as my fists once again clenched.
Alton Fitzgerald had Charli’s arm in his grasp and was leading her toward the car. Her steps were tentative as if she were resisting his intentions.
“No fucking way this is happening again,” I vowed.
Her voice was strong. “I shouldn’t be going. We have guests.”
My teeth clenched as my hands balled tighter. Charli’s pleas were the last bit of fuel my body needed, the spark to my already combustible rage. No other sounds registered as I ran toward the limousine.
THEY HAD PLANES specially made and outfitted for medical transport. There were companies that included air ambulances, who boasted of their competence with such perilous dealings. I wasn’t a stranger to risks or dangerous encounters. I also wasn’t stupid when it came to announcing our intentions.
A medical transport would require names and medical records. They would need clearance and authorization. We were without any of that.
The last thing I planned on doing was alerting anyone that I was transporting Adelaide Montague Fitzgerald in an unconscious state across state lines. It wasn’t that I’d ever balked at breaking the law, but this was a federal offense. Even that wasn’t new to me. Murder was a federal offense. If we were to be apprehended, officially this was kidnapping.
Unofficially, this was a rescue.
“Amore mio,” I whispered in Adelaide’s ear as Clayton pulled the ambulance onto the tarmac of the private airport. “Soon you’ll be safe.”
Adelaide didn’t move, even as I smoothed her hair away from her beautiful face. To me, she was gorgeous. She always had been; however, as I stared at her, it was clear to me that her ordeal had made its mark. Her once rosy complexion was now gaunt. Her cheekbones had become too prominent and her skin loose. Since the time I’d last held her in my arms she’d lost too much weight. I knew from the doctor’s notations it had mostly occurred recently. It had been evident as I helped to lift her from her bed to this gurney. Her shoulder and arm bones protruded. My fingers easily surrounded her dainty wrists as I sought the thump of her pulse.
The rhythm was present, though rapid and faint. Maybe it wasn’t faint. Maybe it was that mine was thundering in my chest. I held my breath and counted the beats as my fingers pressed against her frail wrist. I wasn’t a doctor, even if I’d pretended to be one. In fifteen seconds I counted twenty-eight beats—or 112 per minute. Her breathing was shallow. Since we’d left Magnolia Woods each breath seemed to come quicker, yet be less effective.
“Mr. Demetri,” Clayton said from the front seat. “Mrs. Witt said the plane is ready and Dr. Rossi is here, ready to accompany you back to New York.”
I nodded. With each passing day I gained new respect for Deloris Witt.
Eva Rossi was the one physician I could implicitly trust with regard to both Adelaide’s care as well as discretion. She was family. As I’d told Deloris, family is family. The physician Deloris had consulted had proven trustworthy. She’d scoured Adelaide’s records and ordered tests. She was the one who told us how to trick the monitors at Magnolia Woods. She was still on the case, but she wasn’t family. I couldn’t ask her to assist me in transporting Adelaide to New York.
Eva was a Costello, the daughter of another of Angelina’s cousins. Being related to Angelina, she was also related to Vincent.
Angelina’s cousin was still in charge.
I should have hesitated to call. I should have known the repercussions. Vincent and I had made our peace. We’d completed our deals and granted each other space. The world was different today than it was twenty years ago. But it still existed.
As a young man I’d worked hard to belong in the Costello world. Then as an older man, I’d worked equally as hard to earn my freedom as well as Lennox’s immunity. There were few people who were worth the reintroduction to the family life. Adelaide was one.
During my conversation with Vincent, I’d emphasized one thing: I would be the one in debt, not Lennox.
Clayton brought the ambulance to a stop. Though it was night, the tarmac was well lit. The pilots flying our plane needed flight plans and a manifest with names. Even on private planes the FAA had requirements. It wasn’t like we were taking off from a privately owned airstrip.
Our timeline had been tight. I did what Lennox had done. I trusted someone else to make it all work. Now it was time to learn if my trust had been misguided.
As Clayton got out of the vehicle and walked around to the back, I stayed at Adelaide’s side. The holster of my gun rested against my hip as I blindly waited for the back doors of the ambulance to open. My pulse increased with each tick of the clock. I wasn’t sure what I anticipated, but as the rear doors of the ambulance opened, my solemn gaze met that of the woman standing at Clayton’s side.
“All the paperwork has been cleared,” Deloris said.
I took a deep breath and nodded.
The identifications she’d provided were false, even mine. It would be too easy for Fitzgerald to follow the plane I hired back to New York, back to Rye. Part of me wanted to change the flight plan and continue east across the Atlantic. I imagined having Adelaide in London. Medical care there was equally as advanced. Though we’d be much more difficult to find, there was one huge unknown that wouldn’t allow me to take her to my home in the United Kingdom.
When the woman on the gurney beside me woke, I wanted her to have the option to return to her life. I wouldn’t really kidnap her. She was free to do as she’d done before and tell me to leave, to tell me she wanted to work on her marriage.
If she chose that option, tho
ugh it would kill me, I would let her go. But not until she was well. In the meantime, in Rye she would have access to the one person I believed she wouldn’t turn away—Alexandria.
I made a mental note to check my phone after Adelaide was secure. It would be best to have confirmation that both Chelsea and Alexandria were safe before we took off. However, it wasn’t essential. Getting Adelaide into the air was my number-one concern.
Once we made it to the home in Westchester County, we’d be safe. The house wasn’t only a fortress, but I’d made another deal with my devil—with Angelina’s cousin. There was no expense or freedom I wouldn’t sacrifice for the woman I loved. Not only was it protected on the outside, the master bedroom suite had been converted into a top-of-the-line hospital room. Silvia had been charged with the transformation. I had no doubt it would be done.
Family.
Clayton reached for the end of the gurney and pulled. As the makeshift bed hovered above the tailgate, the scissor legs and wheels fell into place. I quickly followed the gurney, supporting the foot as Clayton lifted the head and we carried Adelaide up the steps and into the cabin of the plane.
Once she was aboard, I lifted her petite body to the long leather sofa. With only a nod of understanding, Dr. Rossi inspected the bags of fluid as she moved the attachments to the improvised hospital bed she’d constructed.
As soon as the gurney was empty, Clayton moved it back toward the door.
Deloris had followed a step behind. Watching from the side, she said, “Get the ambulance back to Magnolia Woods as soon as you can. Be sure the inside is clean.”
Clayton nodded as he took one last look at Adelaide. “Is she going to make it?”
“Yes.” I couldn’t comprehend another answer.
Leery of using anyone’s name, I asked Deloris, “My son?”