CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Nervous cheers erupted around the team as their name was announced as not only the winners of the wedding cake competition, but of the competition as a whole.
The trophy, the ribbons, the alleged cash prize would be theirs.
Tailor and Alec watched Milton carefully, while O’Hara and Rory stood closest to the stage.
Milton leaned forward over Janie and Taylor’s shoulders.
“Smile ladies. You’re the winners of the international competition,” he said with a voice laced in venom. “If you’ll step back here with me, I need for the two of you as the principle bakers to sign the acknowledgement forms.”
Janie stared at Alec and Tailor, then looked toward Rory and O’Hara. They said nothing but their eyes were on the two women and Milton.
“Of course,” nodded Janie.
Milton gripped an elbow in each hand, practically dragging the women behind the curtain of the stage. He forced them down the steps, pushing them toward the exit.
“What are you doing? Where are you taking us?” asked Taylor.
“Don’t play coy with me,” he frowned. “Did you really think you could ruin everything for me? Did you really believe you could stop me?”
“Milton, we don’t know what you’re talking about. We won the competition.”
“You won because I allowed it!” he said practically yelling. In the distance, Janie could hear the crowd quieting somewhat. She wondered what was happening and then in an instant knew. The team was moving them out of the center.
“What is it you want from us?” asked Janie.
“For you to die, of course,” he grinned. “You must die. I need the money and I need to prove to the world once again that I am the best. Not all of you and your pathetic creations.”
“This seems like a lot of trouble for cookies, cakes, and pies,” said Taylor.
“You went to a lot of trouble to bake those cookies, cakes, and pies,” he sneered.
“Because we love baking, Milton. It’s not about winning. It’s about baking. We didn’t want anyone hurt. Not like you. You wanted everyone hurt didn’t you? You killed Jacques, you killed Gloria. You tried to kill Adrian and made sure Maren was pushed out of the competition.”
“Maren was pathetic. A sore loser with no talent.”
“A sore loser?” frowned Janie. “I don’t think you have room to talk, Milton. Owing millions to a crime boss and his family. Taking out illegal life insurance policies on the contestants and collecting on them. You have no right to point fingers.”
“Shut up,” he said pushing them toward the exit doors. As they walked toward the doors, they suddenly flung open, Luke and the team walking in. Milton turned but Alec, Tailor, Rory, and O’Hara were coming from behind. Without warning, he pulled a gun.
“A gun, Milton?” frowned Luke. “I would have thought a knife or poison would be your choice.”
“I won’t hesitate to kill them,” he said. “I swear I don’t care.”
Luke held up the folders filled with damning information, photos scattered like cards in his hand. Milton’s face paled as he saw the box with the envelopes, vials, and containers in it.
“You were in my home,” he whispered. “You had no right!”
“We had every right,” said Luke. “You’ve been killing bakers for years and no one noticed. Not one person. I don’t know how you managed that but believe me, it stops here.”
“No,” he said pulling Taylor and Janie closer to his big body. What he didn’t realize, what he couldn’t have fathomed, was that they were so small, so petite, they offered his large body not nearly enough cover.
From the rafters of the convention center, hidden in the darkness of a catwalk, Hex viewed his prey through the powerful scope on his rifle.
“I’m in place, Luke. Nod if it’s a go.”
Without thinking twice, Luke nodded. Milton began to frown but it was stopped by the ‘thwap’ of the silencer on the high-powered rifle and the bullet delivered between his eyes.
Janie and Taylor wretched free, running toward their husbands, clinging to them. The rest of the girls finally came around the stage, having heard the familiar sound of the rifle and gathered one another in their arms.
“It’s done. He’s done,” said Luke.
“Not quite,” came a deep calm voice.
“Castellano,” frowned Cam.
“I’m a guest judge,” he grinned, “but I suppose that no longer matters. You took the life of the man who owed me several million dollars.”
“That’s a damn shame,” said Cam. “But you won’t be getting any of his money. You can, of course, show the courts that he owed you money and claim a portion of his estate.”
Castellano frowned at the men, chewing the inside of his mouth.
“I know who you are,” he said calmly. “I’m no fool. I don’t wish to start a war with any of you, I just want what I’m owed.”
“I tell you what,” said Luke. “My team will give you access to his home and you can take whatever you’re able to sell, and we’ll look the other way. Believe me, he has enough in that home to pay off his debt with you.”
Castellano stared at the men, then turned toward the women with a soft smile.
“Your work was exceptional,” he said nodding at them. “Such beautiful cakes from such beautiful women. Would you like a job?”
“We have jobs,” said Sara. “We work for them.” Castellano laughed, nodding his head.
“I’m sure you do,” he said calmly. “Very well. Take us to his home and we’ll take what we find useful.”
Rory, Tailor, and Alec took the Castellano men to the home and allowed them to load items into their trunk. It looked to be worth way more than the amount owed, but they didn’t really give a damn. Get the mobster away from them, and away from the women.
“What do we do now, Luke?” asked Sara.
“The police will handle everything from here. You’ll be announced as the official winners, although I hate to tell you I’m not sure it will mean as much once the news breaks.”
“I have a better idea,” said Sara.