Chapter 13
Storm released Harlan’s hand. She did not want her father or Randal asking questions about who Harlan was to her. She didn’t know herself yet, but she wanted a chance to find out—privately. He had agreed to kiss her. She would see what happened after they did, but she suspected sparks would be involved. Sparks could combust into flames or fizzle out after a second or two.
“Let’s get this over with.” She quickened her steps.
Robin noticed them first. “My God. Storm. You’re here.” Robin threw herself into her arms, almost knocking Storm over with her force. Robin’s blond hair was pulled back in a barrette. Her face was void of makeup, but her tired eyes still sparkled.
She righted Robin but kept a grip on her shoulders. “It’s okay. Everyone is fine now. Hello, Father. Randal.” She offered each man a quick nod.
Harlan’s eyebrows skated up his forehead. He would have questions about her chilly greeting. Most people did when it came to her father. Those people didn’t understand what it was like to be raised by a person whose affection came with hefty strings.
She didn’t want Harlan to think her father would harm her. He would never. Not physically, anyway. Something like that would create a bad stigma to his precious reputation.
“Camilla.” Her father offered the same curt nod.
“Camilla?” Harlan touched her elbow, pulling her gaze to his.
“It’s my middle name, after my grandmother. My father refuses—still—to call me Storm.”
“Your retched mother and her hippie life she kept from me. If I had been there when she filled out the birth certificate, you would have had a respectable name.”
“Dad, give it a rest, will you. You flew all the way out here. Did you really do that to argue with me? Because if you did, I don’t need the help. I can take care of myself.” Her mind clung to the hug with Harlan on the beach. The way his strong arms had wrapped around her. For the first time in ages, the comfort and support she had craved seemed possible.
“Relax, Storm.” Randal stepped closer to her. She backed away. “Kenneth was very worried about you. He called me immediately when it was apparent you were missing. We convinced Robin to tell us where you were and we came right away. You shouldn’t be alone in such a stressful time.” Randal shot a glare at Harlan.
Harlan stood still. His face wore a picture of placidness. She envied him that ability, assuming he felt the need to react to Randal’s comment. That quality was sexy as well.
“I’m not going to relax just because you said to. I don’t understand why you’re here.” She and Randal only spoke when their paths crossed at a mutual event. Once she had moved out of their shared home, she never looked back. Their careers kept them in some of the same circles and she was forced to make polite conversation, but she didn’t miss him or long for his presence. She would have preferred he not be here now.
“I asked him to come along and help me make you see reason,” her father said. “Why in the world do you think someone tried to poison you? Of all the outlandish things I’ve heard in my life, that has to be the most. Who do you think you are? Some heir to a throne? No one wants you dead, Camilla. Stop with the dramatics.”
Her father’s words shoved her back, and she bumped into Harlan’s hard chest. He stepped around her.
“Excuse me. We haven’t met. I’m Harlan Fender, Storm’s bodyguard. If you don’t mind keeping your voice down, I don’t want anyone to overhear you. The threat to Storm is real.”
She wanted to kiss him right there for standing up for her.
“What are your credentials, sir?” Her father gave Harlan a once-over as if he could discern that information with a look.
“I’m expertly trained in military warfare and high-level counter-terrorism.”
Kenneth blinked a few times, then looked around as if to seek out the possible threat Harlan had mentioned. “I see. I suggest we continue this conversation at a private location. Robin, did you make arrangements for us, as I asked?”
She wanted to point out that Harlan had suggested it, but she kept her mouth shut. Her father would never concede.
Robin typed away at her phone. “You and Randal are at the Ritz-Carlton. Storm and I are at the hotel next door.”
“Storm stays with me,” Harlan said. “I’ll secure a location I believe to be safe. I can include you all in those plans, but you’ll have to do as I ask at all times.”
“That’s nonsense. I don’t have to listen to you.” Randal puffed up his chest, but still had to tilt his chin to look Harlan in the eye. Storm almost felt sorry for her ex-husband and his insecurities.
“No, sir, you do not. However, I won’t allow you near my client if you refuse to follow protocol. By the way, I’d like to ask all three of you some questions once we’re settled in our new location.”
“What kind of questions?” Kenneth said.
“Simple things. For instance, where were you the night Storm was poisoned?”
* * *
Harlan stepped away from Storm and her family to answer a text from Aria, his sister’s friend.
She went into surgery. She was in great spirits. Told me to tell you not to worry.
Thank you. Please keep me posted. Call for any reason, he sent back and shoved the guilt down before it choked him. Even if he had been with Meg, for the next couple of hours he wouldn’t be able to do anything except wait. She was in good hands. He would trust that.
With the new arrivals here, pretending to help Storm, he couldn’t leave just yet. She had no one on her side except maybe Robin, but Harlan wanted more information from all of them before he would make a decision.
Meg had Aria there to ask questions and be Meg’s voice. Meg would be fine. He would get home when all of this was over.
He scanned the crowd of people under the white pop-up tent that made up the shelter. The air was still thick with fog. Talk of the volcano’s continued eruption and worry about where to live jumped from one conversation of evacuees to another. Most of these people were huddled together with friends and family. Some cried. Some seemed to accept what had happened by their relaxed stances and shoulder shrugs. Harlan searched for anyone who seemed out of place.
One man sat alone on a folding chair. He was middle-aged, judging by the receding hairline. Slightly paunchy, which might indicate a sedentary lifestyle. His clothes were clean and tasteful, as if he may have come from work or a dinner party. The space around him was void of boxes or bags of belongings, not even a suitcase or backpack. The man’s gaze drifted in Storm’s direction, then away. Within seconds, the man returned to looking at her again. Each time his gaze lingered longer, as if studying her.
Storm was a very beautiful woman and undoubtedly attracted the attention of many men, but this guy’s dark eyes lacked depth. He did not smile when his gaze reached Storm. He only stared with a hard look. Harlan had seen men with a vacancy in their eyes. Their souls had no depth. Their slack-jawed faces spoke volumes of their intentions. These predators were not difficult to identify. The ones who smiled, who acted as if they had best interests at heart, who flew out to Hawaii on a moment’s notice, were the ones Harlan worried about the most.
He returned to the group. “It’s time to go.”
“Why?” Robin said.
“Because Storm has been in a large crowd long enough. I can’t keep her safe here. There are too many unsecure areas.”
“You really believe my daughter is in danger?”
“I do, Mr. Richards. Now, if everyone will please return to their vehicles. We can meet up at the hotel. Storm, you stay with me.” He gripped her elbow before she could protest.
“Storm, are you sure?” Robin said.
“I’ll be fine with Harlan. Meet us there. And be careful.” Storm pulled Robin into a hug.
“Now, ladies.” He continued to check the crowd for the man in the nice clothes, but he was no longer sitting in that chair. Harlan had missed him ducking out and now he had no idea where this stranger was. Maybe it was nothing. But he couldn’t take that chance.
He and Storm hurried back to the car. He helped her into the passenger seat and ran around the front to the driver’s side.
“I need to make a call to one of my teammates.” He turned the car around and headed back in the direction they had come. He checked the mirrors to see if anyone followed, but it seemed as if they were alone.
“Okay.”
He had paired his phone with the car when he first picked it up at the airport. Now, he commanded the phone to call Waylen.
Waylen picked up on the first ring. “Hey, man. What’s up?”
“I’m on the Bluetooth and Storm is in the vehicle with me.” He made right and left turns at random and still no one followed. Whoever that guy was truly could have been nothing. Harlan might be an expert at human behavior, but he wasn’t a private investigator.
“Hello, Storm. How is my buddy treating you?” Waylen’s voice filled the car.
“Just fine, thank you.”
“She’s got a pretty voice, Fender. How did you get so lucky?”
Storm rolled her eyes.
“Knock it off, Brown. I need some help.”
“And I’m assuming you’d like me to be the one to administer said help.”
“You are smarter than you look. Here’s what’s going on. I’m moving Storm to the Westin. Can you make sure we have a reservation when we arrive?” He didn’t want to waste time doing this himself and run the risk the hotel was booked. The hotel was tucked around other hotels, giving them some anonymity and easy access to other locations, if needed in a hurry.
“You want me to hack into their registration database?”
“Yes.”
“That’s not legal.”
“I know that. But you have special skills that will ensure no one will ever know. I need her to have a room and the resort might be booked up between vacationers and anyone displaced because of the volcano. I don’t have time to check all the hotels along the coast.”
“Two rooms or just one?”
“Adjoining, but if you can’t arrange that, then one room with two beds.” He braced himself for the snark.
“If I do this, my poker debt to you is expunged.” Not what Harlan expected Waylen to say, but he was glad not to have to deflect the sarcasm Waylen was known for and Storm might not appreciate.
“Deal. Now, please hurry, if you don’t mind. We’re going to be there soon.” He wanted to get her straight to the room, then have a chance to speak with the others about their relationship with Storm without her present. Robin could forget the idea that Storm would stay with her. If the killer was onto them, if that man in the shelter was in any way involved, Robin would not be equipped to handle what came their way and keep Storm safe.
“I’ll text you the details when I’m done,” Waylen said.
“Thanks. Appreciate it.”
“Of course, you do. Brown, over and out.” Waylen ended the call.
“Your teammate is a hacker?” Storm turned to him.
He navigated the roads back to the resort area. He was quickly becoming familiar with the landscape of the island.
“Not a hacker. Just really good with computers.”
“Who’s willing to commit a crime?”
“Technically, it’s a crime. But let’s look at it like he’s someone with very special skills who can make things happen other people wish they could control. And I would never ask if it wasn’t for the circumstances. I swear I have never used my privilege to my advantage.”
“That’s reassuring. I’d hate to think you would tap into someone’s grading system and change grades at random.”
“Not me. Never. I don’t have a clue how to do any of that. I prefer to talk people down off high ledges.”
Harlan pulled into the Westin and parked near a security camera and in between other cars so they would have some coverage when they got out and then again later when they needed to return.
“Leave your bags for now. I’ll come back out later and get them.” He checked the parking lot but didn’t see anyone hanging around or any cars with drivers paying attention to them. Robin drove down the next aisle and parked.
“But I need my things.”
“If we’re being followed, I don’t want to tip off the bad guy that we’re staying. I can come out later when it’s dark and get our stuff. Text Robin and tell her to meet you inside the lobby.”
“I don’t want to use my phone.”
“You can turn it on for a few minutes. It won’t matter. Besides, three people now know where you are. Assume they’ve told others. Your location is hardly a secret. Not to mention, the food being delivered this morning.” He would leave out his suspicions about the man at the tent for now.
“You’re being very bossy.” She dug her phone out of her bag.
“You wanted a bodyguard.”
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
His phone vibrated in his pocket. Like promised, Waylen had secured a room.
Reservation for Mr. and Mrs. Harlan Fender. Honeymoon suite. Two nights. You’re welcome.
As much as he wanted to punch Waylen for setting up the reservation that way, the ploy of marriage would be a good disguise. Waylen had thought of the best scenario.
“We’re all set.” He took Storm’s hand. She narrowed her eyes.
“Are you okay with holding my hand?” He didn’t think he needed to ask. She had held his hand earlier, and he wasn’t asking for anything more. At least not now.
“We have a room already? Your friend is fast.”
“Oh, we have a room all right. I hope you keep smiling when I tell you it’s the honeymoon suite and we’re registered as husband and wife.”
She stopped short, but quickly regained her footing. “I suppose there are worse things.”
“My ex-wife would argue that.” In fact, if asked, his ex-wife would say being married to him was at the very top of the worst things to happen to her. She had wanted what she saw in movies about a Navy wife—stationed at the beach, volleyball games in the sand, motorcycle rides along the coast. She never bothered to ask if he even played volleyball.
“She was clearly not in her right mind if she believed you are the worst thing in the world. I can’t imagine you harming another person.”
He would spare her the details of his time overseas and the things he had done and seen. Even if his missions weren’t classified, he would not force another human to endure what happened even through the telling of a story. Storytelling had its own power.
“You’ll feel differently about me next week.” He hated to think how true that could be. He had his limitations. SEAL training had shined a large spotlight on them. Women often grew tired of his secretive work, his need to sit facing the door, his regiment even when he wasn’t on duty.
“Are you asking me out on a date?”
“I’m asking you to marry me because in about three seconds, we’ll need to put on a convincing performance.” He opened the glass door for her, allowing her to pass in front of him. A new husband and any gentleman would do that. Another one of his grandmother’s lessons.
He could still hear her New York accent. Harlan Lewis, you will treat women like ladies. You open doors and pull out chairs. You always pay for dinner and look her father in the eye when you pick her up at the door. Never mind this foolishness that women don’t like men doing those things. They do.
He followed on Storm’s heels, placing his hand on her lower back. Might as well act the part. They crossed the marble-floored lobby. Palm trees stood tall in corners. A good place to hide.
She smiled up at him and slid her arm around his waist, but not before she grabbed his ass. He kept his pace on point. She couldn’t throw him off that easily, but he sure did like her spunk.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Fender,” Storm said to the concierge, but met his gaze and smirked.
He was in some serious trouble.