Holiday Havoc (14 page)

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Authors: Terri Reed

BOOK: Holiday Havoc
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“What was that?”

“Someone took a shot at you, Ben.” She didn't pause at the doors to the emergency stairs, just whipped through them.

Her words sunk in. “Someone—wait. You said someone shot at me?”

“Yes, Ben. Keep moving. We've got to get to the service elevator, but I want you off this floor first.” She ran behind him on the steps, never faltering even in those three-inch heels.

He reached for the door handle to the next floor.

“Stop.” Her voice was low and cool—he didn't question her authority. “Me first.”

She had a gun—he wasn't going to argue.

“Stay quiet and move fast. We're turning left outside the door. The service elevator is at the end of the hall.”

“How do you know?” He would've been completely lost by now.

“Shh.” She opened the door and went through first, motioning him to follow. Silently, they made their way down the hall. Almost at the end, they heard excited voices.

“Hurry.” Maria's whisper was a hiss near his ear. She pulled open the door to the maintenance area and shoved him through it. He heard her take an audible
breath as she pushed the button for the elevator. “Get behind me.”

He took a breath to argue.

“Do it.” She didn't look back, but held her gun in the classic police stance, aimed at the place the doors would open.

The elevator chimed as it stopped and as the doors cracked open, Ben stopped breathing. Empty. He breathed again. “How did you know where this elevator was?”

“I did some exploring the first day we were here, while you were zonked out from the antihistamines.” On the elevator, Maria swiped the card through the slot that would authorize the elevator to take them to the penthouse. “We've got to get you away from this hotel. Too easy for someone to hide here.”

“We've got to get Caden out of here.” When her eyes widened, he said, “They drove here in my car, but I don't want to take the chance that they could be in danger if they're on their own.”

She took a deep breath, readjusting her plans in her mind. “How much do you trust your helicopter pilot?”

He thought back to all the times that the pilot had been in dangerous weather with him and had saved his hide as they'd cut it knife-edge thin to leave safely. “I trust him with my life.”

“Call him, but tell him not to tell anyone, except whoever he has to clear it with legally to fly here.”

“Got it.” The elevator doors slid open into the maintenance closet on the penthouse floor. Maria exited first, but the thought that something might've happened to his son propelled Ben forward.

He didn't have to worry long. Caden was sitting under
the Christmas tree with his cars, making motor sounds as he raced them in a circle around him.

Julia looked up from the sink in the kitchen. “Hi. Hot chocolate, anyone?”

Maria turned and slid her weapon into the holster under her jacket. Her look spoke volumes, but what she said to Ben was, “I'll go finish packing. You need to do the same.”

“I know. Let me talk to Julia.”

Maria went to her suite and shoved all the beautiful new clothes into a bag. The hair products and makeup went into another, smaller bag. Realistically, she knew that they might have to send for their things. Suitcases were a little bulky for running from bad guys who were shooting at them.

Ben came to the door. “We have a little problem with the helicopter. Caden can't ride in it. He would go ballistic—it's too loud, even with headphones.”

“Okay, we'll have to go to plan B. We'll get you to safety.” As she saw his face, she went to him at the door. “We'll think of another way, don't worry.”

“Cars, Daddy?” A small head peered around Ben's leg.

Ben picked Caden up, holding him close. “Five minutes of cars, and then we have to help Julia pack.” His voice drifted back as he carried Caden into the living room of the penthouse suite.

Maria dialed the number of the police lieutenant who had gotten her into this mess. “Gabe, it's Maria. I need your help.”

SIX

T
wo hours later, Maria, Ben, Caden and Julia stepped onto the elevator. If anyone were to get on at a lower floor, on one side of the elevator they would see a family of three dressed for a trip to the indoor pool. On the other side of the cab, Maria would pass as a teenager, texting on her cell phone, hot-pink ball cap pulled low over her eyes and ear buds in her ears.

Over her shoulder, Julia had a beach bag with Caden's cars and a few snacks for the trip. The plan was for Chloe to bring the rest of their things once they were safely on the road.

On the sixth floor, Chloe got on the elevator with them, opposite Maria. Dressed as a uniformed firefighter, she had a clipboard and a walkie-talkie—just doing inspection.

At the third floor, Gabe, dressed in a business suit, got on the elevator. He didn't even glance at the little “family,” checking his watch instead.

Maria tucked her cell phone in her back pocket as Chloe and Gabe got off at the lobby. Maria would ride down to the parking garage with Ben, Caden and Julia and put them in a vehicle that was waiting by the ele
vator doors. Blowing out a breath, she shook her cold fingers and caught Ben looking at her.

She shot him a wink and went back to listening over her earpiece to Gabe talking to Joe Sheehan in the parking garage. If all went according to plan, they should be out of here in two minutes. Gabe would jump in from the stairwell and Joe would follow in a marked cop car.

Those fifteen or twenty seconds that they would be exposed would be the most dangerous of the whole trip. But Joe Sheehan would be on one side of them and she would be on the other side. It would be fine. It had to be fine.

With one hand on her weapon, she stepped out of the elevator into the garage. Her lips quirked into a smile as she realized they'd brought Gabe's wife's minivan. Joe waved them ahead.

She turned to Ben. “Get in and shut the door. I'll be right behind you.”

Julia and Caden went first and Ben followed, the door of the van sliding shut behind him. Maria jumped into the driver's seat as Gabe ran from the stairwell and ducked into the passenger side.

Shots popped from around the corner as they peeled out of the garage.

“You've got to be kidding me,” Gabe muttered as Maria pushed the gas pedal to the floor. “My wife is going to kill me if I bring the van back with bullet holes in it.”

Into his mike, he said, “Chloe, get the locals into the garage. Tell them their perp was firing at us as we were leaving.” He paused. “Yeah, I know they're gonna have questions. They can ask them in Sea Breeze.”

The van bounced out the exit door, its big engine
roaring as Maria pushed it to its limits. A diaper rolled out from under the seat. Maria kicked it back with her foot. “Uh, Gabe?”

He looked down, grinned. “My wife's car. I thought I explained that. Hey, one of these days, you'll have a couple of kids and a minivan and you'll be trying to figure out how to change a diaper at a state park.”

A siren whooped as Joe Sheehan passed them and pulled into the lane in front of them, lights flashing.

Maria looked up at the rearview mirror. The nanny looked white and Ben didn't look much better. “You guys okay back there?”

Ben answered as he leaned forward to turn on the video player for Caden. “We're fine. What's going to happen when we get home?”

Gabe answered, “It's pretty obvious that someone is trying to get to you. I'd like to put you in a safe house.”

Gabe's phone rang. “Sloan,” he answered.

Maria kept her eyes on the road and Joe's flashing lights up ahead. Deep breath. They weren't clear yet.

“Mm-hmm. Okay. I'll let them know. You follow up and we'll meet back in Sea Breeze.” He hung up the phone and turned to Maria. “You know those names you gave Chloe to check out? Local police just picked one of them up trying to ditch a gun in a holding pond. They think he's our shooter.”

Ben leaned forward again. “So it's over?”

Gabe shrugged. “They caught the guy with a gun.”

“They'll try to match the ballistics with the evidence they're collecting at the hotel. If it's a match then, yes, it's over.” And so was Maria's job as Ben's bodyguard. He wouldn't need her anymore. Being caught up in the
moment last night was one thing. A person like Ben wanting her around after what had happened today, that was another thing altogether.

She felt like she was on a tightrope, swaying. Any moment there would be free fall.

“I think you should be cautious until the lab reports are complete.” She didn't look at him, but caught his glance in the rearview mirror.

“I just had the alarm system upgraded.” He looked from Maria to Gabe. “We'll stay inside, change the codes, keep the alarm on, whatever it takes.”

When Gabe nodded, Ben's shoulders relaxed. His eyes met hers in the mirror. “There's the ball tomorrow night. I have to do a broadcast from there. My last regular broadcast for Weather 24.”

She looked back at the road. The last thing she wanted at this point was to spend a romantic night—on camera, no less—with Ben.

Chicken? Yes.

How had she gotten to this point?

Right—men. The one sitting beside her who had started this whole thing. His cohorts at the police department. The one in the backseat with soft gray eyes that she couldn't seem to say no to…and the little one sleeping in the car seat. How in the world was she expected to fight against all that male persuasiveness?

She pulled into Ben's driveway.

He unbuckled Caden from the car seat and lifted him into his arms. “Do you mind walking us in?”

Maria walked to the door with the boys—Julia was more than ready to get home and went straight to her own car.

Ben's home had an old-fashioned look, with its large
windows and hand-scraped, wide-planked wood floor. The furniture was comfortable, not fancy. He laid Caden on the couch and smoothed a soft blanket over him before turning to Maria. “I'm sorry, Maria.”

“For what? I knew pretty much from the beginning what I was getting into.” She walked to the mantel. He had pictures set up in colorful frames. A laughing Ben had his arm around a blonde with a full, pregnant belly. “Your wife?”

“The child psychologists think it's important for Caden to have reminders of her around.” His eyes seemed to apologize.

He slid a hand across the small of her back and she eased away from him, setting the picture back on the mantel. “Ben, despite everything, I'm thankful I got to know you. Glad we were able to put the past behind us and become a sort of friends.”

He took a step closer, crowding her. “I thought we established last night that what we feel for each other is not friendship. Maria, I've never had anyone on my side—not the way you are.”

Her heart tumbled and landed somewhere in the vicinity of her feet. Maria, who wasn't scared of anything, was terrified by what she was starting to feel for this man.

In her job, she walked through crime scenes every day. Blood, death—you name it, she could deal with it. But if anything happened to Ben, it would tear her to shreds. “Listen, I think you're mistaking gratitude for something more than what it is. I helped you out of a tight spot. That's all.”

He dropped his hand. “Okay, then. I think you're wrong, but I can't tell you what you're feeling.”

His eyes were dark with hurt when the last thing she wanted to do was cause him more pain. But she wasn't a part of this family. It wasn't for her to choose. “Be careful, okay? Even though the guy's in custody, we still need to go through everything carefully and make sure all the loose ends match up.”

He nodded and she left, closing the door behind her with a quiet click. She waited for the beep of the alarm as he armed it, then ran for Gabe's van, throwing herself inside and bursting into tears.

“Maria?” The anxiety in Gabe's voice would've been amusing if she'd been able to catch her breath.

“Just drive, Gabe.”

He did, while she completely lost her cool. Ten shuddering, sniveling minutes later, the tears began to slow. Her breath came in hitching gasps, like a baby who'd cried too long.

Gabe cleared his throat. “What—”

“Don't.” She wiped her nose on a baby wipe she found in the glove compartment. “Just…don't.”

A couple of rogue tears dripped off her jaw.

That did it. She was going to have to do something drastic to get even with the cops who set her up on this date. It wasn't enough just to play a practical joke.

A new sob choked out despite her best effort to hold it in. Because she knew for a fact now.

She was in love with everyone's favorite weatherman, Ben Storm.

 

Maria stared into the mirror, barely recognizing the woman she saw there. She was used to seeing herself with wild, springy curls and a dangerous look in her
eyes. Instead, she saw a woman with hair that would now behave and sad eyes. She'd keep the hair.

But those sad eyes had to go.

Chloe knocked on the bathroom door. “You ready for me?”

“Could I ever be ready for you?” Four-inch heels were Chloe's regular M.O. Maria wore four-inch heels only under duress, but she'd be willing to bet that the box on her bed held a pair at least that high.

Chloe had an overnight bag stuffed to the gills with girly stuff. She pulled the towel off Maria's hair and sighed. “Girl, we've got some work to do.”

With the dryer blowing her hair into submission, Maria stared at the dress she would wear tonight.

The gown was a simple white organza column with gathers that fell from the bodice to the floor and one tiny row of rhinestones at the top. She felt like a princess wearing it—and she felt like an impostor. She wasn't made to do this. She was meant for barking orders at crime scenes and drinking cop-shop coffee and trading war stories at the precinct.

This…whatever it was with Ben was an illusion. It had started out that way and it would end that way. It was a joke, a publicity stunt. It
wasn't
real.

And drat it all if her eyes didn't fill again at that thought. She'd been certain after the embarrassing scene with Gabe that she was completely cried out. She blinked back the tears, hoping Chloe hadn't seen them.

The blow dryer clicked off. Chloe's dark brown eyes narrowed in question, her red hair fuzzing a little in the humid bathroom. “Maria?”

Maria shook her head, not daring to trust her voice.

Chloe dropped onto the stool beside her. “It's Ben, isn't it?”

Maria sniffed. “How'd you know?”

“There's a look we get on our face that's totally recognizable to someone who's been there before. And oh, honey, have I been there.” Her friend's eyes filled with sympathetic tears.

Maria reached for a roll of toilet paper. “I was so mad at those guys for making me do this—and then before I knew it, I was charmed. It was all a setup, but I fell for him anyway.”

“People aren't like science, Maria. There is no cutand-dried right answer.” Chloe picked up a comb and hairspray and stood, working Maria's hair into long, looping curls with a curling iron as she talked. “I know this must seem crazy to you. You're straight-up, Maria, like this giant beacon for the rest of us to follow—you always know where you're going.”

Her hair in the mirror looked more like wet poodle than red carpet. Some beacon. She made a face.

“I'm serious. We all admire you because you're
so
single-minded, so determined. And that's a great quality to have—on a case. But sometimes, when you get to the fork in the road and you have to choose between adventure and logic, it's okay to choose adventure.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Maria squirted some cream into her hands and rubbed it in gentle patting motions onto her face, the way the lady at the salon had showed her. Logic was important.

Chloe pulled her hair. “Oops, sorry. Accident.”

Yeah, right.

Once again, Chloe dropped Maria's hair and sat down beside her. This time, her voice was quiet. “If you trust
in God—and I know you do—your life is in His hands. He'll be beside you every step of the way, no matter what path you choose.”

Chloe stood and rolled another piece of Maria's hair onto the curling iron. “Personally, I think the guys were right.”

Maria glared at her in the mirror.

“Not to set you up, I don't mean that. But seriously, you need a life outside the police department. Maria, you don't even have a Christmas tree.”

“I do, too.” Maria tried to turn her head, but Chloe jerked it back into place. “It's in the kitchen.”

“That sad-looking crocheted thing? It looks like your grandmother's pot holder.”

Maria tried not to smile, but couldn't help it. “It
was
my grandmother's pot holder. The Christmas one.”

“Hold still. I need to get these pins in the right…spot—there. What do you think?”

Her hair was light brown and shot with golden streaks. Blown out and tamed, it curled halfway down her back. “Wow. I think you're a genius.”

“I know I am. I'll see you on the purple carpet?” Chloe laughed.

Gabe's wife, Sailor, had gone with purple instead of the traditional red since they were raising money for a local children's charity whose colors were purple and white. “Of course. I wouldn't back out on this now.”

Chloe picked up her bag of girl stuff and walked through Maria's apartment toward the front door. “Oh, I can't believe I almost forgot.”

She pulled a file folder from the bag. “I kept working on those names you gave me to track down. I finally got a definitive answer on them. The guy Ben beat out for
his present job is on assignment in North Africa. I talked directly with his cameraman. He's actually there.”

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