“Look.” Zach pointed at the viewfinder. In the limited view of the camera, they could see the far wall filled with the acid-burned pictures of Monique.
Troy tapped his comm. “Perp is gone. Bomb squad is on its way. Sending a pic.”
Kieran’s voice came over the comms, “Call it and regroup.”
* * *
Kieran stoodinside the room rented by Dean. The landlord identified him from Monique’s sketch. Kieran’s body was so stiff, it looked like he would crack. Ian stood beside him. “She’s safe.”
There were hundreds of pictures on the wall destroyed from the acid. More concerning was the fresh set. Ten shots of her and Kieran, all with a red X through them. “She refused to back out of the shoot at the Yacht Club. Damn it, Ian, how do we keep her safe?” Kieran kicked at the floor.
Zach dumped a suitcase filled with a mixture of men’s and women’s clothing. “You need to see this.” He held up a man’s shoe and a woman’s shoe—both were the same size.
“Dual personalities?” Troy asked. He looked through a metal box. “We got a name.” He picked up two passports. “Last name Deanne. First name, a male named Auguste, and a female named Gustie. I’ll run them.”
Chapter 11
The day was picture-perfect. Kieran arranged for Monique to have her fitting at the Chase Group building. But now it was 4:00 pm, and the banquet was beginning. The event was taking place on the main deck. Beautiful for the weather and the cause, horrendous for protection.
“Stay frosty,” Ian gave the order.
Kieran, dressed in a tuxedo, did his best not to throw Monique over his shoulder. Ian’s tone was sharp. Kieran knew his brother was worried too. Trying to tamp his anxiety down, continuously opening and closing his fists, he paced a small circle and watched the show.
Monique had two outfits to walk down the runway in. The first was a fun, frilly cocktail dress. Wearing her hair loose beneath a wide-brim hat, she danced down the aisle on the arm of Jack Martinez, waving at the audience. The well-heeled crowd applauded.
“He’s here; I can feel it. We’re missing something,” Kieran went over the comm setting strictly for Ian.
Once she was safely in the dressing room, Kieran wrapped his arms around her. “Beautiful.” Cold sweat soaked his back. “That’s one down.”
“I’m fine, my bear. One more outfit. And then…” She cupped his ear and whispered something.
Kieran inhaled deeply. She had whispered in the ear he wore his comm in. The entire protection detail heard the sexual adventure she had planned. As soon as she turned to change, he tapped his comm and went over the air, “Any one of you repeat that, you will be assigned to a case in the Arctic.”
He was greeted with quiet.
* * *
She sat sippinga glass of wine in the dining room, which was open to yacht club members and their guests not attending the fashion show. Her eyes brightened. Her idol was only feet way. She caught a glimpse of her wearing a cute dress. Her body’s curves made her more beautiful. A sigh fell from her lips.
She cares about only herself. Look at her. That man won’t be a part of her life much longer. But where is the other man? The man she sleeps with.
Gustie, you know what you have to do.
Why do I have to kill them? I don’t want to.
You have to, or there’s no room for you. Now go do what you know must be done.He handed her the gun that was tucked in her purse.
Gustie tucked the gun in her pocket and walked toward the dressing rooms.
* * *
Kieran watchedMonique slip into the stunning red evening gown right before Jack ran in. “It’s George. He’s throwing up. It’s bloody. The ambulance is coming.”
“Go. Be with him,” Kieran said to Jack. More orders followed.
Two more tuxedoed men jogged into the room with Troy. “Get George to the hospital. Greece, you stay with him,” Kieran instructed, his tone sharp and commanding.
Monique sniffed, her body visibly trembling. “It’s him. I’ll never have peace.”
