Liam stood, smiled, and shook hands with them. Reid watched as Liam turned and kissed Mallory before heading to the bar. Jonak quickly took Black and the game was over. It all seemed so strange.
“Get me the footage from the whole game. I want to watch it again when I’m awake.”
“Dario, make Mr. Simpson a copy of the high rollers’ game, please,” Luke called to his assistant across the room.
Reid watched Liam lead Mallory from the room. They popped up on another monitor as they walked down the hallway. Liam hands were all over her. “I’m flying home tonight.”
“I thought you were supposed to fly home in two days,” Luke said, surprised.
“There’s too much to be done in Atlanta. If I sneak away now, I may have a shot of getting it done before anyone discovers where I am. So, don’t mention it, okay?” Reid looked around at the other security guards in the room. They weren’t paying any attention.
“Sure. Do you think they were laundering money?”
“I do. Liam’s last hand was too strange. And if he owed Jonak money, what better way to get it to him? Bring in dirty money, win it in a high-stakes poker game, and then you suddenly have clean gambling winnings. Look into it for me, and let me know as soon as you have something.”
Dario walked across the room and handed him the flash drive before Reid left. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed as he headed for his rooms. “Troy, I need to get home,” he said to his family’s personal pilot.
“I can be there tomorrow.”
“No, it needs to be now.” Reid couldn’t stay in the same city with Mallory, not while knowing what she was doing at this very moment.
“I can’t. I’m flying to pick Elle up from her meeting in Seattle.”
“Never mind. I’ll find another way home. The cargo I want carried back to the new resort will be waiting for you at the hangar. Just pick it up on schedule.” Reid hung up and scrolled through his phone. He found a commercial flight that left in an hour. He was going home and never thinking of Mallory Westin again.
Mallory let Liam put his arm around her as they left the hotel. Her bags were packed, and she’d already checked out of the hotel. Bowie had taken them to the CIA’s plane and was to meet her there.
“Come on, my darling,” Liam begged as she wiggled out of his arms. “Let’s make love in the limousine. Andre won’t care. I think he likes it, actually,” he said about his driver.
“If I’m going to do that, at least make me a drink first,” Mallory giggled as she put up the privacy screen. She opened her purse and twisted open her lipstick. Liam handed her a glass and when he turned to make his, she poured the liquid hidden in the lipstick container into the glass.
“I thought you were thirsty?” Liam asked when she put her drink down next to his.
“I am. I’m sorry you lost your card game.”
“Who cares about a card game when I have you?” Liam kissed her, and she kissed him back.
“I’ll toast to that.” She reached over and picked up a glass and waited for Liam to pick up the other one. “To me making my decision.”
“Cheers,” Liam said before drinking it down. “Now come here.”
Mallory counted to three. He had only managed to get his bowtie undone when he suddenly slumped back in his seat. She lowered the screen. “Andre, the prince has had too much to drink. He’s out cold. Would you mind dropping me off at the airport?”
“Yes, miss.”
Mallory sat back and enjoyed her last look at the beautiful old town. When the limo pulled to a stop, she reached into her purse and pulled out a letter. “Could you give this to Liam when he wakes up?”
“Yes, miss.”
Mallory thanked him and headed for the private airfield. If she wanted to stop the assassination, she needed to be back in the United States.
* * *
In the early morning light, Dario waited in the alley behind an old warehouse. He nervously clasped the flash drive he had stolen in his hand. The sound of shoes echoing off the old cobblestone street caught his attention. He turned to find two people approaching.
“Mr. Black, I’m sorry. I didn’t know who to tell.”
“This better be important,” Mr. Black snarled.
“It is. My boss, Luke, asked me to make a copy of the security footage from the game for Mr. Simpson. They gathered all kinds of information on everyone who played last night.”
“Good work, Dario. Is this the copy?”
“It’s the exact copy I gave Mr. Simpson. I erased the mainframe, though. But, Mr. Black, they will know it is me. I had to use my employee login to erase the data. I have to get out of here. Mr. Simpson will find out before he leaves tomorrow, and I know I’ll disappear.”
“We’ll take care of you.” Mr. Black turned to his partner and gave a simple nod before walking away. The muffled gunshot was barely audible.
“Do you want me to take care of Mr. Simpson along with the candidate you gave me?”
“Yes. Do it on American soil. I don’t want a connection to Stromia. And make sure you destroy both him and the flash drive.”
“Consider it done.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“It has to be then,” Bowie argued as he and Mallory looked at the papers laid out on the desk the next day. They had arrived in Atlanta the day after the ball and since then had been researching every political campaign stop the candidates were scheduled to make.
“They are with each other at the next event, but how are we to know if the assassination will take place when both candidates are together?” Mallory asked as she looked at their schedules.
“Because then they will both be in the spotlight. Think about it. Pictures all over the world of a dead candidate in the arms of his opponent who is frantically trying to save him. It would be election gold. The only timeline we have is what you overheard. It's going to be by the end of the month. This is the only event that fits that description.”
“I don’t know; you’re assuming the person who hired the assassination would be there at the time,” Mallory said as she looked over the paperwork. “I mean, this event my father is going to be at in two weeks will be huge. Thousands of people.”
“You heard Liam demand it be public with lots of press. That has to mean the person behind it all wants to be seen there too. If he tries to save the injured man, or men, he’d be hailed a hero. How would you do it? How would you kill them publicly?”
Mallory let out a long breath. Bowie was right. She would do it at this event. It was a charity event for wounded soldiers. The press was already going to be there. Security wouldn’t be as tight as if it were a debate, making it easier to smuggle weapons in. “I’d do it at the event. I would do it when the candidate makes his speech.”
“How?”
Mallory looked at the blueprints of the resort. “There.” She pointed to the maze of air ducts in the ballroom. The room was set up like a chessboard above the ceiling with ductwork running the length and the width of the room and intersecting at various points. “If the pictures of the ballroom are accurate, there’s a huge return vent right there that looks out over the ballroom instead of facing downward. All you have to do is take some pliers to make room for the muzzle of a rifle. The industrial air ducts are large enough to crawl through. No one would see me. Escape would be simple if you had the layout of the maze of ducts. Take the right turns and you’re at the restrooms. Drop back down and run out with the other guests.”
“Hmm. I would go for a more direct approach. I would plant three small bombs under the stage. One at the podium and one under each side. Then I could detonate according to where my target was standing.”
“We can stop both, but I have a bigger problem. This is Reid’s new resort. If he sees us . . .”
Bowie just smiled. “He won’t. You’ll look fabulous as a brunette.”
“Goodie, our little bag of tricks. I’ll scope out the resort now. Reid isn’t supposed to get back until later this afternoon according to the flight plan Troy filed. I’ll spend the day there, getting a feel for the place, and be gone before Reid arrives.”
* * *
Mallory walked the ballroom under the pretense of wanting to rent it for a wedding reception. The wig felt heavy on her head; she wasn’t used to her hair swooping down and covering half her face.
“We can fit twelve hundred people in the ballroom, or we can put up room dividers to fit the size of your party. We have three dividers; the smallest room we offer seats four hundred,” the event planner explained.
“Can I see where the room dividers are to get a better idea? We are expecting a large crowd, so I don’t know if I would need a single room or if I would need to open one of the dividers,” Mallory explained as she looked around and took pictures.
“Of course, Miss Andrews.”
“When you host these big events, where do you put the stage and dance floor?”
“We have a pre-built platform we put right there and the dance floor is at the discretion of the host, but normally it goes right in front of the stage.”
Mallory nodded and took some notes. “That would be perfect for throwing the bouquet.”
“Yes, your reception will be lovely if you choose to hold it here.”
“I’m sure it will.”
“Now, a very popular plan for brides is to rent one of our suites to dress in. Would you care to see one?”
Mallory smiled. “What a wonderful idea.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have an issue with the charity event. They need to talk to you about lighting,” a young woman in a hotel uniform said as she joined them at the front desk.
“Can you just give me a key? I want to look around as well. See where we can take pictures and such.” The event planner hesitated, but a pissed-off electrician stood impatiently nearby. “And if I like the suite, I can book the whole floor for the wedding party so no one has to drive home.”
The prospect of a whole floor of suites being booked did the job. “Lisa, give Miss Andrews a card for the Star Suite. I’ll meet you back here in thirty minutes?”
“Perfect.”
Mallory took the room key and meandered around the lobby and the restrooms outside of the ballroom, locating every closet and storage room. Knowing the event planner would be able to tell if she used her key, she took the elevator up to the fourth floor. Might as well see what Reid had been busy working on for the past year.
Reid grabbed some papers from his office and ran up the stairs. So far he’d been undetected by most of his staff, probably because he was in jeans, a T-shirt, and baseball cap as opposed to his normal suit and tie. He had a little more work he wanted to get done in his room before he tackled the long list of questions he was sure they had for him.
He opened the door to the fourth floor and froze when he saw a woman walking away from the elevator. She was dressed conservatively in an orange sheath dress that hugged the curves of her bottom so well he couldn’t stop staring. Her brunette hair was chin length and accentuated her long neck. Who knew necks could be so sensual?
Reid followed her as she placed a key into the suite next to his and walked in. Oh good. How was he going to concentrate knowing she was right next door? He hadn’t seen legs like that since Mallory . . . no, he wasn’t going to think of her. She was gone, out of his life forever.
Reid entered the suite he’d been staying in the past couple of months while the hotel prepared for the grand opening. The soft opening had been a huge success, and he knew the official grand opening would be too.
He tossed the papers on the desk and sat down on the couch. Work was going to have to wait. His mind was still on the mystery woman he saw from behind. He wondered what her face looked like, if she was single, if she was his answer to forgetting Mallory.
Mallory stood and looked out the windows of the suite. She had to hand it to Reid. He had done a remarkable job with the resort—with all of his resorts. He had done exactly what he had told her father he’d do. He’d made something of himself. She was so proud of him. Mallory set down the tablet Elle’s husband, Drake, created. It controlled everything in the room with a simple touch of the screen. Mallory needed to ask him to put the same system in her house.
She looked at her watch. She’d been in here for five minutes. That would be enough time to convince the event planner she had looked around. Reid’s plane was due to arrive any minute. Before she turned from the windows overlooking the lake and the woods, she saw it coming in for a landing on the private airstrip.
Mallory turned to hurry from the room when the earth shook. She spun back to the windows as a fireball erupted in the back of the property over the thick tree line. Mallory felt her world stop. Reid. Oh my God, Reid! Mallory ran from the room and shoved the man coming out of his room out of her way as she raced for the stairs.
She took the stairs two at a time and leapt over the last half-flight to get to the exit. Vaguely she heard someone behind her but didn’t have time to look. Her thoughts were only on getting to Reid.
Reid slammed against the wall as the brunette shoved past him. He was already on the phone calling 9-1-1 and organizing the hotel’s emergency response protocol. He had never felt such fear as when he saw that explosion. He’d looked at his watch and realized it was Troy arriving with his cargo. He felt himself disconnect from the world.
That was why the woman was able to catch him by surprise and push him out of the way. He raced after her, desperately trying to get to the golf cart he kept out back. The thought of Troy dead was too much to contemplate as he chased the woman down the stairs.
Mallory shoved the emergency door open, not caring when it set off the fire alarm. She saw a fleet of golf carts to her right, but they would be too slow. She looked to her left and saw the stables. She ran as fast as she could and flung open the first stall in the barn. A huge stallion stood tossing his head.
“Come on, buddy; I don’t have time to fight over who is in charge.” Mallory hiked her skirt up her thighs, grabbed a hunk of mane, and vaulted onto his back.
The stallion fought her for a second, but then saw the open stall door and bolted. Mallory leaned down as they cleared the stall and squeezed her knees. The stallion took off at lightning speed. She passed a man on a golf cart as she flew over the countryside.
She leaned forward and held on tight as she urged the horse faster. Her wig flew off after she jumped a hedgerow. She could see the fire now through the trees. Black smoke billowed from the airfield ahead of her. The stallion slowed, but she dug her knees into his side to urge him forward through the woods. The stallion was lathered in sweat as she pushed him harder. He reared when they broke through the woods and approached the airfield. Mallory refused to give in to his demands and pushed him toward the crash. As soon as his hooves hit the runway, Mallory leapt from him. Sensing the fire and her panic, the horse retreated toward the stables instantly.
Mallory almost fell to her knees as she took in the full scene. The back half of the plane was almost completely separated from the cockpit. The gas had exploded and the fuselage was engulfed in an inferno. There was no way Reid had made it. He’d never know how much she loved him—how sorry she was for being weak in response to her father’s threats.
What had happened? She had to know. The pilot! Mallory stumbled forward with a new purpose. The nose of the plane was lying on its side with the windshield facing her. The nose was smashed and the cockpit torn to pieces.
“Troy!” Mallory screamed in horror as she saw the Simpson family pilot dangling upside down from his harness.
The heat was almost unbearable as she raced forward. Her eyes dried out instantly, and her lungs felt as if they had seized. She coughed uncontrollably as her body tried to expel the soot. Mallory grabbed her dress and raised the collar so it covered her mouth and nose, hoping to find some relief.
The windshield was partially torn from the plane as she struggled to fight the heat of the fire. Using her sandal-covered foot, she kicked at the loose material enough to be able to wedge her upper body into the cockpit. Troy hung upside down in his harness. Blood was everywhere. Part of his clothing had been ripped from his body.
Mallory reached up and grabbed his dangling hand. She pressed her fingers to his wrist and waited.
“Oh my God! Troy, I’m here! Hang on,” she yelled as she ignored her burning skin and leaned farther into the cockpit.
Reid cursed the golf cart as he bounced along the terrain. Sure, it was more of an all-terrain vehicle, but at fifteen miles per hour he now wished he’d taken a horse like the woman had. She must be a doctor to run headlong into danger like that. His prize stallion had already passed him, running back to the stables. As he crested a hill, what he saw stole his breath.
The plane was just gone. Everything but the cockpit had been reduced to ash as fire ravaged it. He squinted and saw two legs attached to an orange bottom sticking out of the cockpit window. Part of the window had been torn away. Troy!
He raced onto the tarmac and slid to a stop as the heat of the fire knocked him back. An explosion sounded, and he jumped away. It must have been the oxygen tanks. Pushing through the heat, he felt his body fight against it. His mind told him to run, to seek safety, but he fought it and surged to the cockpit.
Reid heard sirens and looked back to see the resort’s emergency personnel racing down the runway. He couldn’t wait. He had to get the woman and Troy away from the plane. “Is he alive?” Reid shouted.
“Oh my God, Reid! You’re alive. Help me. Troy’s alive. I need a knife to cut the seatbelt. It’s too hot to unhook,” the woman yelled, without turning around.
Reid turned to the cart he’d driven and found a pair of pruning shears for her. How did she know him? She must be one of the new women in hospitality to think he was on the plane. He ran back to the cockpit to take over. “I’ve got something.”
“Give them to me. Watch out, the metal surrounding the window is hot.”
Reid kicked the windshield to loosen it some more. He pushed it aside with his hip and felt the heat through his jeans. He shouldered through the opening, rubbing against the woman as he slid into the cockpit. She turned her blond head and Reid froze.
“Mallory?”
“Give me the knife. Reid, give me the knife. We have to get Troy out of here!” Her point was made when another small explosion went off in the back of the wreckage.