Chapter 12
It rained on their way back to the hotel, which Olivia insisted was good luck.
She stared at the fields of lavender as they sped past, strips of earth flashing between their purple rows.
Trevor reached over and took her hand, her smaller fingers curling around his, and she sighed, a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
It was nearly dark by the time they reached the hotel. A ridiculously large bouquet of deep red roses stood on the table in their room.
Olivia cocked her head. “I wonder who sent them.” She’d told several members of the cast and crew about her impromptu wedding today, taking special joy in telling Lockheed she wouldn’t be on the set. It was just as well, since the shower scene they were filming didn’t involve her.
“There’s a card,” said Trevor.
She picked it up, the angry slant of the black penmanship conjuring a visceral reaction. She gasped, suddenly lightheaded. “It’s him.”
Trevor cursed as he took it from her hand and read it out loud. “Congratulations on your marriage. Love always, Evan Lockheed.”
She braced herself on the back of a chair. “Lockheed was the stalker. Then how was the bodyguard involved?”
A metallic click made her turn around. There stood the director in the open doorway, a gun in his hand.
“He’s my cousin, Reynaldo. Not the brightest crayon in the box.
He caught me sneaking into your room and I had to tell him something.
” He moved deeper into the room. “Terribly afraid of the occult, that one. You’ve got to admit, I did a pretty good job acting innocent.
Maybe I should have been on the other side of the camera acting with you. ”
“You have no right to be here,” she said, her voice low and menacing.
She’d been scared too many times, afraid of the unknown, the mystery man now revealed.
Facing him made her strong. There was nothing Evan Lockheed could do to her that he hadn’t already done in her terrified imagination. She lifted her chin. “Get out.”
He jerked his head back. “I love you, Olivia. You have to know that by now.”
“You are a self-centered, egotistical micromanaging asshole, and I most certainly don’t love you,” she said.
Lockheed’s eyes widened, his nostrils flaring. He turned toward Trevor. “You did this to her.” He lifted the gun.
“No!” screamed Olivia, reaching for the weapon.
But Trevor was already in motion, his foot connecting with the revolver and sending it flying. “Freeze.” Just like that, he held his own weapon trained on Lockheed.
The director looked at her, his dark eyes nearly black in the dimly lit room. He was menacing, but she refused to cower.
“What are you going to do if I don’t?” Lockheed asked. He took two steps toward Olivia.
Hawk fired. Lockheed stood motionless for a beat before falling to the floor.
“Are you okay?” asked Trevor.
“Yes.”
The sound of someone running outside the door had Trevor on alert, his weapon at the ready as he stepped into the hallway, ready to shoot. “Jesus, Mac, you fucking scared me.”
“Lockheed was the stalker, not the bodyguard,” said Mac, reaching the room.
“Yeah, we figured that out,” said Hawk, putting his weapon away. “How did you know?”
“The bodyguard survived his injuries. After a good dose of lithium, he couldn’t say enough about his cousin the director and Lockheed’s manipulation of his fears. Led us right to him.”
Olivia stared at Lockheed’s lifeless body. She’d stood up to him, just like the marquess would have done, but it didn’t feel like she was acting. It felt like she was strong. She took a deep breath.
“You okay?” asked Trevor.
She nodded. “I’m going to be just fine.”