Once Upon a Marriage (9 page)

CHAPTER NINE

M
ARIE
 
COULDN
'
T
 
GET
 
away long enough for a meet up in Liam's apartment. Watching her blond ponytail swing with the fluid swiftness of her movements, positioning herself in between her employees, moving around them, handing them what they needed before they had a chance to ask for it, Elliott tried not to be impressed.

But he was.

She didn't miss a beat. Didn't lose her smile—even when someone brought a half gone cup of coffee and demanded a remake. She provided it cheerfully. Along with a coupon for a free coffee at a later visit.

There were no vacant seats in the shop. And the door just kept opening. New customers ordering. Those without seats taking their coffee to go. Elliott watched it all. And he watched the people outside the shop, as well.

His perp was male. He knew that much now. Which allowed him to eliminate a lot of suspects. Unless there was more than one perp. Or the perp had a female accomplice.

Where there should have been peace and quiet, steady focus, there was frustration, and it was eating at him. It wasn't really his job to catch the bad guys. Just to protect his clients from them. Or ferret them out and turn over his information to the proper authorities. He'd never felt so helpless in his life.

And he had to speak with his clients. He'd already been on the phone with Barbara Bustamante that morning. Liam, Gabrielle and Marie were next.

She was coming toward him, wiping her hand on the blue-and-yellow apron.

“Sorry,” she said. “Busier than usual this morning.”

He smiled. He couldn't help it. “That's good,” he said. For her. For her business. Her future. Not for the man who was being paid to keep her out of danger.

“Gabi just texted. She and Liam are on their way down. Is it okay with you if we just do this here?”

“In your office.” He stood. But left his coffee and grabbed a newspaper to put next to it. He was coming back to the table.

* * *

L
IAM
 
AND
G
ABI
, both in jeans, sat together in one chair. Gabi perched on Liam's thigh. Marie took the chair behind her desk—trying not to be jealous. To feel lonely.

She loved them. Both of them. And wanted them to be happy. She was happy for them.

And Elliott, closing the door, stood by it. He was the only one of them not wearing jeans. His usual dark attire looked more sinister than usual.

Or maybe it was the grim expression on his face.

Her assessment from the night before, that he might be ticked off at her, faded as fear escalated.

“The police caught the guy who slashed your tire.” Elliott came right to the point, focusing on Liam.

“Oh, good!” Marie couldn't help herself. Relief was sweet.

Until she saw Gabi shake her head.

“It's not good, is it?” Gabi asked. Always the one to see the worst. But her gaze was steady on the bodyguard. “We wouldn't be here if this was all over.”

“The guy they have in custody slashed the tire, but not because he has anything against Liam. He didn't even know whose car it was.” Elliott included all three of them in his conversation now.

And Marie was still not seeing the bad news. “Then it was just a random act,” she blurted. She wanted this over. Wanted everyone safe.

And Elliott gone?

No, she didn't want that.

But maybe...if he wasn't working for Liam...

He'd said he liked her too much...

He liked her...

And Lord knew, she liked
him
...

Elliott was shaking his head.

“Liam's vehicle was the target,” Elliott told them. “The guy had been hired to disable it. Permanently. He only slashed a tire as he ran, after his attempt to do worse damage was interrupted. He wanted to get paid.”

“Who hired him?” Liam's voice was sharp. Marie recognized the tightness of his chin. Liam Connelly might have grown up the pampered son of a very rich man, but he did not sit back and let others do his dirty work for him.

At least not easily.

She and Gabi exchanged a glance. A silent promise to work together to watch over Liam and make certain that he didn't do something stupid. Like get himself killed.

A promise to keep an eye on him and remind him of everything he already knew. To help him stay calm while he let the police—and Elliott—take care of this situation.

And then Marie processed what Elliott was telling them. Someone really was out to get Liam.

“So this guy...he's going to lead you to whoever hired him, right?” she asked. And wished she was more surprised when Elliott shook his head.

“He was just some guy who approached him on the street. Outside the car shop where he worked. The perp's story is that this guy comes up to him as he's leaving work, tells him he was told in a bar the perp frequents that the perp needed some extra money, would definitely know how to ‘fix' a car and knew how to look the other way when he needed to.”

“He's committed crimes before,” Gabi said. “He has a record?”

“For penny-ante stuff. Steeling bikes, pickpocketing, that kind of thing. His older brother's upstate for armed robbery with attempt to harm.”

“Great,” Gabi said just as Liam asked, “So we have a description of the guy who hired him?”

Again Elliott shook his head. “Not much of one. The guy was wearing a trench coat that hung loose and he stayed in the shadows. Besides which, it was dark. He thinks he's white. No facial hair that he could tell. He's not sure about the length or color of his hair because he had a hoodie on under the coat. Average height. Not sure about his weight. The one thing he noticed was that the guy wore what the perp called a flashy ring. He figured if the guy could afford jewelry like that, he'd pay him as agreed. And that's all he really cared about. Our slasher has a bookie after him.”

“Did he say why he wanted the car disabled?” Gabi asked.

“No. Just told him the make and model and where to find it.”

“So he didn't have Liam's license plate number?” Marie asked, remembering the first time Liam's car had been vandalized right after news of the Ponzi scheme had broken. That first time had brought Elliott to them. But the other time, his car had been the only one in a deserted public park lot.

“Yes, he did,” Elliott said, glancing down and then back at Liam and Gabi, almost as though he'd been reluctant to give the information.

Because it meant that... “This is more than just pranks,” Gabi said.

“He's seriously out to get me,” Liam said. “But he just doesn't want me hurt, he wants to play with me first. To make me suffer.”

“No,” Marie blurted. “That's ridiculous. He's angry, but not dangerous, right?” She looked to Elliott.

He towered over them as he shook his dark head. “Liam's right.” His words hit Marie hard. “The pattern shows a desire to stay low-key and anonymous—playing a game, like Liam said—but it's escalating. You don't go looking for a thug to hire, or hire one, if you're not serious about doing harm.”

“And Liam's the target.” Marie forced the words through the sudden dryness in her throat.

“That's correct.”

“I'm moving into a hotel.” Liam stood, setting Gabi on her feet beside him. Marie could see the fear in her friend's eyes when Gabi looked over at her.

“Wait.” Elliott held up his hand. His body in front of the door was enough to prevent any of them from leaving. “I don't think anyone should go anywhere,” he said. “We have full security set up here. We're contained. The police are putting extra surveillance on this place. Staying put is the quickest and best way to draw this guy out.”

“I am not putting my wife or Marie in danger,” Liam said. “Or any of our residents, either. I'm leaving.”

“But...” Gabi looked to Marie, as though she could somehow make things better.

“You're not going anywhere, Liam.” Marie said the only thing she knew. “This is your home. We're a team. Family...” She stood now, too, in spite of wobbly knees.

“Your leaving will only put everyone more at risk.” Elliott's deep tone stilled the room. No one moved. Or said a word.

“Whoever is after you knows by now that you're married, regardless of how quickly and quietly you two got it done. He obviously knows you're in business with Marie and Gabrielle, as well. The purchaser of the Arapahoe is public record, as is the incorporation of Threefold's LLC. If you disappear and he can't find you, or if you move someplace where it's not as easy to access you, chances are good he'll go after you in a way that he knows will hurt you. Through your wife and best friend. He seems to be getting something out of stalking you. You take that away and he might try to hurt you worse, by going after your loved ones instead. He knows where they are.”

“Here,” Marie said. “If he can't get Liam, he'll get us.”

Liam's lips were tight. Gabi's eyebrows drawn together. Marie's stomach was one big knot.

“What do you propose?” Gabi was the first to speak. She slid her fingers in between Liam's. And Marie was glad. They'd stay together, like always.

She looked over to the large man dwarfing the door of her office. And now they had Elliott.

They were going to be fine.

* * *

E
LLIOTT
 
CLEARED
 
HIS
 
SCHEDULE
. Until Liam's attacker could be found, he was going to be at the Arapahoe full-time. Liam had insisted on his presence. Barbara Bustamante also offered to pay him to stay on the premises. He couldn't take her money for that.

“But you're undercover as Liam's bodyguard at my behest,” she'd said early Saturday morning when he first called her to tell her what he was going to recommend to the newly married financier.

“And he's not going to believe my cover if I don't charge him extra for the time,” he'd said to her. “Besides, he can afford me.”

He'd looked into Barbara's finances. She wasn't destitute, but she wasn't wealthy enough to afford, for too many more months, the fees he normally charged for the work she'd hired him to do.

For once the woman had relented. Elliott had packed a bag.

Which was now settled in the spare bedroom in Liam Connelly's apartment. There'd be a twenty-four-hour security guard at the front of the building as well as the back until the perp was caught. Police would be doing extra patrols.

And Walter Connelly had called insisting that his son fly to Florida for the duration.

Liam had told his father what he could do with that suggestion. Elliott could only hear Liam's part of the conversation, but was a bit surprised when it ended as soon as it did. In congenial tones. Walter Connelly's topple off his high horse must have softened him up.

“So, what now?” Liam asked as Elliott came out of the room he'd been allotted in the back of the condo. He and Gabrielle were standing in the kitchen, salad fixings on the counter.

“Now we go on as we have been,” Elliott said. “I'll accompany you wherever you need to go, take you and Gabrielle to work and generally just be around.”

“What about Marie?” Gabrielle looked up from the lettuce she'd been breaking into a bowl.

“As long as Liam is around, neither I nor the police believe Marie is in any danger. She's in business with Liam, not married to him.”

Liam's jaw tightened, and Elliott surmised the man was upset at the reference to the danger his wife could be in.

He felt for the guy.

“But I'll be watching the shop, as usual,” he added. “As I said downstairs, I'm going to set up shop at the table by the front window, and pretty much, when I'm not escorting one or the other of you, that's where I'll be.”

Slowly churning inside, an hour at a time, as he watched the beautiful barista go about her daily business. If earlier today had been any indication.

He'd be uncomfortable. His charges would be safe.

And life would go on.

It always did.

* * *

B
Y
S
UNDAY
 
AFTERNOON
, Marie felt like a nervous twit, flitting around her shop washing counters and floors and then rewashing them as her afternoon help served the customers that came through. She could be upstairs. Or out shopping.

She could be watching a movie or reading a book or in-line skating.

She didn't want to leave the shop. Because Elliott was there. Finally forcing herself back to her office so she wouldn't look overeager—after all, the man was paid to be observant, and there was clearly little for her to do out front—she focused on the week's stock orders. Normally a Sunday night job. She finished them. Finished filing her bank receipts, going over the books and writing checks to her employees.

Then she called upstairs. Liam was working on the next installment on his Walter Connelly series for June Fryberg, his editor. Gabi had been working, too, but was ready for a break. Marie asked her if she'd help her with inventory.

Until Gabi's marriage, the biweekly chore had always been shared by the roommates.

When she opened her office door to her friend ten minutes later, Gabi stood there with a bowl of popcorn. “Want some?” she asked, holding out the stainless steel bowl she'd inherited when she'd married Liam.

Prior to that their popcorn bowls had been plastic.

Where some women craved chocolate, Marie was a sucker for popcorn. And hated that her friend thought she needed to be spoiled. As if something were wrong with her life. Or that, if something didn't change, people were going to start thinking she was...pathetic.