Chapter 17 Annie #2
It’s terrifying and strange, and I have never, ever felt this kind of danger.
I immediately wish Josh would get out of this business.
How many times has he done something like this?
Putting himself in actual physical danger?
The fact that someone in this hotel could be armed and ready to hurt me… I feel slightly dizzy with panic.
Morris turns to me and steadies me with a hand.
“You’ve got this, darlin’. I’m right here.
” His eyes crinkle at me when he smiles, and a little bit of my heart melts.
I’ve never had friends like this. Friends who would put themselves and those they love in harm’s way.
These bikers are a lot more like the guys on TV than they initially let on.
Caring, sexy, fearless. I try to gather my strength as Morris leads me toward the valets.
“Afternoon,” he says politely. “We were hoping the tearoom has space for two.”
One of the valets grins and holds open the door. “Of course, sir. You can check with the hostess. The tearoom is straight through the lobby.”
We walk through the doors, and the first person I see is Tiny.
He’s wearing a plain short-sleeved black shirt, and he’s never looked as big as he does in the elegant, sun-drenched lobby.
I’m glad I’m wearing sunglasses so he can’t see my eyes follow him.
Tiny doesn’t look up even as Morris and I pass.
He’s reading a newspaper, and for a second my stomach sinks.
Who are we fooling, playing this spy game? Tiny reading a paper sticks out like a sore thumb. If anyone had been keeping an eye on the compound, they would recognize him.
“Let’s just keep walking, sweetheart.” Morris’s voice is low and calm. He claps a hand over my hand that is now digging my nails into the crook of his elbow. “You’re doing great.”
I nod and look straight ahead, scanning the place through the dark sunglasses for anyone I recognize.
I see Dog and Eagle, the two bikers from the compound, but I almost don’t recognize them.
They are wearing neon-yellow construction T-shirts and hard hats.
To anyone not paying attention, they look like they belong here.
They’re standing together, pointing out the large plate glass windows, looking like they are deep in conversation.
Morris ushers me down the steps that lead into the lobby, where a few small tables and chairs are filled with guests. Some are sipping to-go cups of coffee with luggage seated on the floor beside them. A mother stands over a little boy who is swinging his legs and playing on a tablet.
Children. There’s a child here.
“Morris,” I whisper, knowing that Josh can hear everything I say through the earpiece. “There’s a little boy and his mom…”
“Uh-huh. I see ’em.” He steers me deeper into the lobby, and we walk carefully down a set of tiled steps.
I scan the lobby and see the front desk staff, a concierge, but no sign of any type of security. No police. God, I pray that Josh is right.
Morris slows his steps and pulls a phone out of his pocket. “Excuse me a minute, darlin’.”
I don’t know if his manners are part of the act, but while Morris picks up the call, just fifty feet ahead of me, I see the familiar form of my PI.
He’s wearing an unusual set of sunglasses, ones that I know have the ability to record what he’s seeing.
The battery on the glasses only lasts an hour—I know because Josh told me he wasn’t going to put them on until shortly before my stalker is set to arrive.
Morris ends his call and then speaks loudly enough for anyone listening nearby to hear. “The tearoom said they’ll have a table for us in about fifteen minutes. Do you want to wait, or should we go someplace else?”
I panic for a minute, not being entirely sure what he wants me to say. I look at Morris, and his face is calm, his smile sincere. “I’d really like to wait, sweetheart. Maybe we can hang out here in the lobby?”
“Oh yeah. Yes, yes. Let’s wait,” I say.
My heart is racing, and my stomach is clenched tight with fear. I try not to look at every person in the hotel, but all of a sudden, the place seems so loud, so full.
I’m overwhelmed by what to do, how to act. But there’s no time to second-guess the plan. The two hours have passed, and I have four bikers, a biker’s old lady, and a PI at my side. I’m not alone. Whatever is about to happen, I’ll handle it. All I can do is pray that we all come through this okay.
I didn’t ask Josh if Morris or any of the bikers are armed.
I know Josh isn’t carrying a weapon, but he assured me he would take down anybody who tried to hurt me—or Alice playing me—with his bare hands.
My hand starts to sweat, and the hat on my head feels too big and itchy.
My skin is crawling, and I notice Josh lean forward across the table and whisper in Alice’s ear.
Alice could truly pass for my twin. She’s even wearing the clothes I took off after grabbing this maxi at the Dress For Less near the strip mall.
Her hair looks a little blonder than mine is, but even to someone who knows me well, it could just be the sunlight.
With sunglasses of her own, my tank and shorts, and her hair in a loose ponytail, even I could believe she is me.
I feel Morris’s body tense when Josh leans close to her, and I have to hold back a smile. These bikers really do protect their own. I can almost hear the ear-blasting I expect Morris to give Josh for carrying the ruse out just a little too convincingly.
“Anything?” Josh’s voice comes through my earpiece, and I pretend like I’m talking to Morris.
“Nope, but I’m looking around.” I pretend to pick lint off Morris’s shirt so I can look over his shoulder at the crowd around him.
Suddenly, I do see someone who looks vaguely familiar. “That’s weird,” I murmur, staring just past Morris. The man in the business suit is walking right toward Alice.
“You see something?” I hear Josh’s voice in my ear and feel Morris tense beside me.
“Yeah, but this can’t be who we’re waiting for. That looks like my father’s law partner.” I’m squinting through my sunglasses. I want to move the dark shades from my face, but if I do, anyone looking for me will see my whole face.
Before I can look back to confirm what I’m seeing, my phone buzzes in my purse.
“Fuck,” I breathe.
“Darlin, I think you should answer that,” Morris says.
“Annie?” I hear a familiar voice address not me, but Alice.
“Talk to me, not her.” Josh stands and addresses the man. My hand shakes violently as I reach into my purse. The man approaching Josh is my father’s law partner, Martin Engler. And the person whose contact is coming up on the caller ID?
It’s Neveah.