Page 23 of Holiday Hijinks

A weird feeling suddenly washed over her, the hair on the back of her neck standing up. She gripped the stem of her champagne flute tighter, her heart beginning to pound. Something was wrong. She didn’t know how she knew; she just did.

“Excuse me!” Anna said again, knocking louder on the partition. “Is everything okay?”

Suddenly, a gunshot sounded, the women screaming as the limousine they were riding in lurched forward before rolling into some trashcans at the bottom of a driveway. Ashleigh looked at Anna in alarm, and then they heard male voices shouting. There was a thump, and Ashleigh gasped as the driver was dragged out of the vehicle, bleeding. She frantically tried yanking on the handle, but the door wouldn’t open.

The driver side door slammed shut, and then someone was rapidly backing up the vehicle, crashing into some trash cans behind them.

“No!” Anna yelled, reaching for her phone. She stared at it in surprise. “I can’t get a signal!”

Ashleigh tried the door again, yelling, and then the tires squealed as the limo sped away with both women still inside.

***

Slate exchanged a look with Jett, tension rising within him. “I can’t get hold of either of them. Ashleigh was texting me earlier after they left the spa, and Anna’s been giving me updates all day. Neither of them are responding now.”

“I’ll call Ford,” Jett said, swiping the screen on his phone.

There was a sudden knocking on the hotel room door, and Slate quickly crossed to open it. Ford was standing in the hallway, looking concerned as his gaze swept over Slate’s shoulder into the hotel room. Slate had met him at Jett and Anna’s wedding but didn’t know the man well. He did, however, know that Ford was supposed to be with the women, not standing in front of him alone right now.

“Did they come back to the room?” Ford asked with a frown.

“Negative,” Slate said, narrowing his gaze. “We can’t reach either of them.”

“I thought you were shadowing them,” Jett said as he quickly hurried to the door. “Why are you here without Anna and Ashleigh?”

“I was with them at the spa, waiting outside in the parking lot. Anna texted and said they just needed a few minutes before they’d be ready to leave. The limo driver must’ve met them on the other side of the building. When I realized they were gone, I went looking for them. I tried calling Anna, but she never responded.”

“They were heading to Ashleigh’s sister’s home,” Slate told him.

Ford looked grave. “They never made it. I drove there myself and then circled back to the spa and finally your hotel when I couldn’t reach them. Anna must’ve forgotten to text me when they left.”

“God damn it,” Jett said, shooting him a look of ire. “I didn’t let her know of the potential danger, only that you’d be with them today. This has happened before,” he said, pointing a finger at Ford. “My wife is always trying to give me a heart attack.”

“I should’ve told Ashleigh there might be trouble,” Slate said. “She had no idea anything was wrong or that someone was still tracking me.”

Jett was already calling Anna, leaving her a message as it went right to voicemail. “Sweetness, I don’t appreciate you leaving the spa without Ford. Are you at Bentley’s house? Ford is under the impression you never made it there. Call me as soon as you get this message.” He hung up then sent her a text message as well, a flash of worry crossing his normally calm demeanor.

Slate was already setting his own phone down. “I tried Ashleigh again. No answer. Her phone is going straight to voicemail.” Hope flooded through him as his phone buzzed with an incoming call, but then he frowned. “It’s the wedding planner.” He lifted his phone to his ear to speak with her, Jett already calling some of his team.

“Sam’s still at the original hotel,” Jett said a few minutes later. “There’s nothing going on there as we can see from the feed. He’s been there since the two men were spotted this morning, but no one else suspicious has returned.”

“The women aren’t there,” Ford confirmed. “Sam would’ve seen them.”

“I don’t like this,” Slate said, striding across the room. “They should’ve arrived at Bentley’s long ago. Get the name of that limo company. Don’t they have GPS in those damn things? We can track where they went. Maybe they got a flat tire or something,” he muttered, knowing that wasn’t the case. There was no reason neither woman would be unreachable if it was a simple flat tire or mechanical problem with the limousine.

“On it,” Ford said, calling Jett’s assistant Lena to find out what company the limo had been booked through.

“I’m supposed to be getting married in a matter of hours,” Slate said, his voice grim. “How can the bride be missing? Something happened.” His phone buzzed again, and he saw Ace’s name on the screen.

“We’ve got a problem,” Slate said as he answered.

“That’s what I was calling about, sir. We’ve been monitoring the chat rooms on the dark web as discussed. A cryptic message was just posted online.”

“What does it say?” Slate asked, every muscle in his body tense.

“We have the bait. Double the fun this time.”

“God damn it!” Slate roared, Jett’s and Ford’s heads swiveling toward him. “They took her again. I just fucking know it! They took Ashleigh to get to me!”

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