Fiance by Friday (40 page)

“I’ve been in the kitchen. She’s not there.”

Chuck smiled. “You didn’t look very hard, soldier.” Chuck waved the gun again.

Neil followed the barrel of the gun and took several steps back. The island in the kitchen met his back and Chuck moved around him to the pantry and opened the door. He nodded inside.

“Go.”

Neil thought of the small space and considered himself trapped if he moved inside.

“Fuck you.”

“Gwen’s in there.”

Neil hesitated. He didn’t hear her…didn’t see her. “You’re full of shit.”

“Gwen’s inside, Mac. Why would I lie to you now?”

Neil cringed. His mind brought to the surface nightmares of Gwen’s torn body. Could Chuck have killed her and left her lifeless
in the pantry? There was only one way to find out. And if she were gone…what was left for him? Could he survive her death? Was life worth living without her light?

He moved into the pantry and noticed a door.

“Open it.”

Neil’s stomach was in his throat as he reached for the knob on the door. The slow twist was met with little resistance. The lack of a lock made him think the worst. Chuck would have locked a live person inside…right?

Unable to stop himself, Neil swung open the door and encountered a rickety set of wooden stairs descending into a basement. Lights flashed from below.

“Go.”

Neil placed a foot on the step, a second one…then he heard it. The muffled voice. A high-pitched voice.

He leapt down the stairs and saw her.

Alive.

Never in his life did he feel like crying with joy. He did now. He rushed to her side, placing himself between her and Chuck. He reached for the gag in her mouth, noticed the red marks on her face and the bruise forming on her cheek.

Her eyes met his and tears sprang in them.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. This was all his fault. She wouldn’t be here had he not put his faith in Chuck.

“You’re here,” she choked between cracked lips.

“Isn’t that nice? The newlyweds reunited.”

Neil twisted to the man he once called his friend. “Why, Chuck? Why sacrifice us?”

Chuck narrowed his gaze. “You were supposed to take Raven out quietly. Not blow up his whole fucking family.
That
was imperative to the mission.”

“We weren’t responsible for the bombs.”

“You knew what he was capable of. Take out the single target and come home. Then Washington would have been happy. They didn’t need to know who called the order. Didn’t need to know.”

Neil squinted his gaze. “Washington didn’t know about Operation Raven? You called it on your own?”

“Suits don’t know how to run a war. Take out the leaders and the fucks willing to kill their own kids for their cause…that’s what had to happen.”

Neil was starting to see the picture now. “You’re about to retire. No one would have known…”

“There’s an exit interview process. They’d already called Billy in to ask about me. Any of you could have uttered something and destroyed forty years of dedicated service. I couldn’t risk it.”

The irony was, Neil wouldn’t have said a thing. Neither would Rick…or Billy.

“Mickey’s dead,” Neil told him. Hoping to see some sort of recognizable emotion cross Chuck’s face.

Chuck shrugged. “Collateral damage,” he said. “Now back up.”

Neil bumped into Gwen, keeping her behind them. For the first time since walking into the basement, Neil noticed
the
twinkling lights and adolescent art and keepsakes all over the floor. Looked as if Gwen had been busy. Smart move, too. Chuck’s eyes shifted around the room and his gun arm started to waver.

“We’ve known each other a long time, Chuck. You knew my dad.” Gwen pressed up against his back. Her body trembled.

He reached one arm behind him and held the side of her body.

Chuck narrowed his eyes. “I’ve known lots of dead soldiers. What’s one more?”

Gwen twisted around behind him. He gripped her arm to keep her from moving in front of him. His fingers landed on something hard in her hand. It took a second to realize what she held.

Relief swept up his back. He wanted to praise her foresight right then but didn’t. Neil took the weapon and kept his hand behind his back. “So you kill me, kill Gwen. Then what? You don’t think I’d come here without telling someone, do you?”

“He said Blake was on his way here,” Gwen said. “Said he’d kill him if I made any noise.”

Chuck blinked, his eyes traveling between the lights and Neil’s face. “Blake knows I’m here. And he won’t arrive without backup.” Neil inched forward. “It’s over, Chuck. There’s no way out of this for you.”

His eyes focused on the barrel of the gun pointed at them, Neil held his breath and flinched with every movement Chuck made.

The tip of the barrel tilted to the floor. Neil jumped on Chuck’s show of retreat and swung Gwen’s gun in front of his chest. “Drop it.” Neil’s voice was deadly. He didn’t want to kill the major. He would. But he didn’t want to. “Do the right thing, Chuck. Drop it.”

Chuck’s eyes landed on the weapon Gwen had brought into the basement and he huffed out a laugh. His displaced humor was a testament to his mental state. Chuck’s gun hung to his side.

“You always were the smart one. Should have had Mickey take you out first.” Then, with no preamble and no warning, Major Chuck Blayney lifted the barrel of his weapon to his own head and squeezed the trigger.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Gwen felt the major’s intent as he lifted the weapon and she closed her eyes. Her scream echoed along with the blast from the gun. Her entire body shook as the room grew silent.

Neil’s arms gathered around her. She stumbled into him, buried her face in his shoulder.

“It’s over,” he cooed in her ear. “I’ve got you.”

Her knees went out from under her. Neil lifted and cradled her into his arms. He kept her as stable as a mother with a child, even with her hands handcuffed behind her back. She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to open them until Neil had taken her up the stairs and set her gently down on a sofa.

He started to move away and she huddled closer. “Don’t go. Don’t go.”

“I won’t,” he whispered. “I’m right here.”

She blinked her eyes open. “Is he?”

“Yes.”

Her stomach rolled.

Neil reached around the sofa and pulled a blanket over her shoulders. His eyes met hers with such concern she wanted to weep. “He started acting strange after you left. Then Ruth went to Florida and he got worse. I tried to leave.” She shook, unable to control her body.

Neil rubbed his hands along her arms. “I didn’t know. I thought you’d be safe.”

Gwen attempted a smile. “I know. It’s not your fault.”

“He could have killed you.”

She tried to move her hands to comfort him, remembered the cuffs. “Can you get these off?”

He nodded, and looked behind her back. “You’re bleeding,” he said.

“Just a scrape. I’ll live.”

His fingers tugged at the cuffs and then he patted his pockets. “Do you know where he put the key?”

She shook her head.

Neil moved in front of her and laid a hand to her cheek. “The MPs will have a key. I need to call this in.”

When he did, the house would be swarming with military personnel. Her brother. “Make the call.”

He stood to walk away.

“Neil,” she said, stopping him. “Thank you for coming back to me.”

He reached down to her again, and brought his soft lips to her dry ones. He wiped a tear she didn’t realize fell from her cheek and picked up the house phone.

In less than two minutes, the house was filled with military police. Someone unlocked her hands, which she was sure would never feel normal again, and offered her a glass of water. The liquid trickled like fire down her throat.

A female sergeant sat at her side as Gwen answered questions. The MPs kept Neil away, probably asking him the same thing and making sure their stories didn’t vary. All the while Gwen kept saying to herself that it was over. All of it was over and they were both alive and whole.

A uniformed soldier approached her. “Miss Harrison?”

“It’s Mrs. MacBain,” she corrected the man.

“Seems your brother is outside and raising all kinds of hell. We have more questions and can’t release you yet. He wants to see you for a few minutes.”

“Of course.”

Someone helped her to her feet. When she made it to the door, she shook off the set of hands helping her. “I’ll be fine. He won’t leave if he thinks I’m hurt.”

Blake stood beside a military jeep, a cell phone in his hand and a guard by his other. He noticed her and pushed around the guard.

“I’m OK.”

He squeezed the air from her lungs. “You scared me to death, Gwendolyn.”

“I
was
scared to death.”

Blake pulled away and peered in the dark at her face. Good thing the light was bad. She knew how bad she felt and could only imagine how she looked. “Is Neil in there?”

“Yes. Talking with the authorities.”

Blake shook his head. “He should have kept you safe.”

“He did. I’m alive.”

Her brother didn’t seem convinced. “I need to get you home. Everyone is worried about you.”

“Tell them I’m fine. We’re both fine.” Rain started to fall and Gwen pushed a strand of hair from her eyes.

Blake caught site of her ring and grasped her hand.

“What’s this?”

“It’s called a wedding ring, Blake. Neil and I are married.”

Her brother narrowed his eyes and stared beyond her at the house.

“Listen,” she said as she placed her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Let one of these men know where you’re staying and we’ll be along as soon as we can.” She ran her hands along her shoulders,
warding off the chill. “I would rather not stand in the rain. I’ve been cold enough for one lifetime.”

Blake shrugged out of his coat and laid it over her shoulders.

“Mrs. MacBain. We have more questions for you.”

Gwen turned toward the sergeant and offered a wan smile. “I’ll be right there.”

She kissed her brother’s cheek. “Go tell Samantha that we’re OK. She doesn’t need to worry.”

It was nearly dawn when Sergeant Piper told her she could leave. “That’s all we need from you for now, Mrs. MacBain.”

Gwen rubbed her tired eyes and watched dawn break through the bay window of the Blayney home.

“Where’s Neil?” She’d not seen him in hours. The coroner had arrived only a few minutes ago and she wanted nothing to do with witnessing Charles’s body come up those stairs.

“He’s in a debriefing.”

“He’s not here?”

The sergeant shook her head. “Left a while ago with an MP escort.”

“Is he under arrest?” She couldn’t imagine he left on his own without saying good-bye. Not after all they’d been through.

The woman in front of her wouldn’t meet her eyes. Gwen stood up and shoved her hands on her hips. “What is he charged with?”

“I didn’t say he was under arrest.”

“You didn’t say he wasn’t. Who is your commanding officer?” Gwen believed that was what they called the boss around here.

The sergeant nodded to the kitchen. “One of them is currently laying in a pool of his own blood, and the second-in-command is Major Gilmor who isn’t available to you right now. Until we can determine exactly what transpired, Mr. MacBain will need to stay with us.”

“This is preposterous. Neil did nothing wrong. I told you what Charles Blayney did to me. What he said to me. You can’t believe that Neil and I are lying.”

“No one is accusing you of lying, Mrs. MacBain. We just need to keep Lieutenant MacBain a while longer.”

“He’s retired,” Gwen corrected her.

“He’ll contact you when he’s released.”

“That’s not good enough. I demand to see my husband before I leave here.” She crossed her arms over her chest to emphasize her point. Did the woman in front of her not understand how little control she’d had in her life over the past several weeks? Gwen was tired of being told what she could and could not do. Perhaps it was time to remind these people who they were dealing with.

“That isn’t going to happen.”

“Is that so?”

The sergeant smiled. Her hair was tied back so severely in her bun it had to create pain deep in her scalp. Funny, under the army colors and minimal amount of makeup, Sergeant Piper was probably a beautiful woman. She severely underestimated Gwen…and that would be a mistake.

“Can I use the phone to call my brother?”

Sergeant Piper gave a tired smile as if saying
finally
.

Gwen dialed her brother’s cell phone number and waited for him to pick up.

“Blake?”

“Gwen? Are you here at the hotel?”

“Not yet.” She turned so Sergeant Piper heard every word. “Listen I need you to call a press conference. I’ll be talking about Operation Raven and the series of murders that were—”

Sergeant Piper grabbed for the phone in Gwen’s hand and gave her a deadly stare.

“That’s confidential information. You can’t—”

Gwen held the phone in front of her so Blake could hear what she said. “I’m a British national, Sergeant Piper. My husband may think I’m an automatic citizen of the United States because of our
marriage, but I’m quite aware I need to go through the process and apply like anyone else.” Actually, the facts hadn’t come to her until after several hours alone in the Blayney basement. She remembered a conversation with Blake years before about becoming a US citizen. Marriage to an American might speed the process up, but it didn’t give instant approval from the government. “All I’m asking for is a few minutes with my husband and I’ll keep my tongue in my mouth. If not…my brother, the Duke of Albany, and our many friends…governors, senators.” She thought of her list of clients. “High powered attorneys, diplomats, law enforcement of all kinds, even actors who know how to play the media like a piano will spin this story so far and wide your precious marines will have to declare a state of emergency just to avoid the scandal. If you’d like to circumvent an international incident, I suggest you let me talk to Neil. In private.”