The Wedding Trap (Second Service #1)(17)
Author: Adrienne Bell

"I need to move him," Charlie said. His words floated in and out of Beth’s head. “You might want to look away."

Beth nodded, but her eyes stayed fixed on Charlie as he grabbed the dead man by the arms. He pulled him easily around the corner. With a barely a grunt, he lifted the large man into the dumpster and arranged some garbage bags over him. Then he pulled out his phone. He pressed a single button and waited.

He spoke softly into the phone. Beth didn’t catch every word he said, but it sounded like he was giving someone their location. After that there were some words she didn’t understand, then a series of letters and numbers. Beth didn’t try too hard to make sense of it.

A minute later, he came over and held out his hand. She stared at it. He’d wiped off most of the blood, but there was still some buried in the creases of his palms and underneath his fingernails.

"Beth," he prompted her, breaking her out of her dark thoughts. "I need to get you out of here."

Her hand was openly shaking as she slid it into his. He pulled her up, and tucked her against his side.

Beth winced as the light hit her eyes, making it almost impossible to see in the bright, midday sun. She hadn’t been in the alley for more than a few minutes, but it seemed like an eternity.

"Shouldn’t we call the police?" she asked, once her brain had caught up.

"I’ve already taken care of it," he said. The phone call. Of course he had.

He started walking, pulling her behind him on the sidewalk.

"Shouldn’t we wait until they get here?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No. There might be more men. They might be watching us right now."

Beth’s heart pounded. He didn’t have to clarify who he meant. More men who wanted to attack her. They could be around every corner. But why would they be? It didn’t make any sense. None of this did.

She stumbled, and he pulled her closer. She leaned against him, her legs like jelly, letting him take the brunt of her weight. He didn’t seem to mind.

"It’s just the adrenaline," he said. "You’ll be fine in a little while.”

She nodded because she couldn’t think of anything else to do. The people passing by paid them no attention. They didn’t seem to notice the flecks of blood that dotted Charlie’s jacket, or her shaking legs.

"It’s only another couple of blocks back to the hotel," he said. "You’re going to make it.”

Of course she would. What choice did she have? She couldn’t break down in the middle of the street, just because her entire life had just changed back in that alley. She’d watched a man die. She’d been part of it.

She couldn’t think about that. Right now, all she had to do was concentrate on keeping one foot in front of the other.

Somehow she managed.

Then she had to get up to the fourth floor. She pulled away from Charlie and hurried through the lobby. She didn’t care anymore if anyone thought that something was wrong with her.

All she wanted to be was safe in her room, reasonably certain that no one with a gun or knife would be coming through the locked door. She took the stairs. There was no way that she was waiting for the elevator. Charlie kept pace with her. She didn’t stop until every lock on the door was bolted behind her.

Then the tears came. She wasn’t even aware of them at first. It wasn’t until her shoulders started shaking that she realized she was crying.

Her legs gave out underneath her and she crumpled onto the floor. In an instant, Charlie was there, wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her in close, just like he’d done when he was helping her back to hotel. Just like he’d been every moment since she’d walked into the hotel. Charlie was there.

Chapter 6

He let her cry. He couldn’t have stopped her sobs even if he wanted to. Besides, it was better if she processed all the emotions swirling inside her. Her mind would be clearer once she got it all out of her system. Maybe then he would be able to get the information he needed from her.

They had very little time before guests arrived. It wouldn’t take long for John’s crew to find the body and clean up the mess. After that John would be coming up to talk to Beth.

There were still tears in Beth’s eyes when she stopped crying ten minutes later, but the worst of the shaking had subsided. He helped her up off the floor and led her to a chair, sitting down next to her.

"We have to talk," he said quietly.

She stared off into the distance for a second before nodding.

"Can you think of any reason why someone would want you dead?" he asked.

She turned toward him, her eyes unfocused. First, confusion swam in the honey-brown depths, then certainty.

"No one,” she said. "That guy had to be a mugger or something. A random psychopath."

"No, he wasn’t.”

"Of course he was.”

He could see the wheels turning in her head, as she frantically tried to make sense of a situation that had ripped a hole in all that she believed. He’d seen it so many times, but he’d never before wanted to pull someone into his arms and tell them that everything was going to be all right.

"That man wasn’t a mugger, Beth. His name was Bruno Staal. He was a well known hit man for several criminal organizations.”

"You knew him?" she asked. Her eyes lit up with certainty. "He was after you."

“He wasn’t.”

"Of course he was. It’s the only thing that makes sense."

Alex shook his head. “Staal didn’t give me a second look until I pushed you into that alley.”

“Then how did you know him?” she asked.

“It’s my job to know.”

“Your job?” The look in her eyes changed. Wariness filled her body. She pulled away, just a fraction of an inch, enough to feel like she’d stabbed a dagger deep into his chest. “Who the hell are you? I want the truth.”

He sighed, and leaned back in his chair. "My name is Alex Tanner. I’m with the CIA."

She looked at him in confusion, as if he had spoken a foreign language she didn’t understand.

"The CIA?" she repeated.

He nodded.

"What the hell is the CIA doing at my best friend’s wedding?”

“Not the whole CIA. Just me. The mission I’m on is being led by the Department of Homeland Security.”

"A mission? What mission could you possibly have at Isobel’s—” She stopped short, her mouth slightly open as she thought. "This has to do with Isobel’s uncle, doesn’t it?"

He leaned forward. "You know about Salvatore Munoz?"

"Yeah, I guess. Only what Isobel has told me. I know he’s bad news. I’ve only met him a couple of times, but each time he’s freaked me out," she said. "You think that someone associated with Salvatore Munoz wants to kill me?"