Page 70 of When He Defends
“You got one question. I didn’t say anything about answeringtwo.”
“You’re not even going to name the guards? That’s hardly fair.”
“My turn.” Owen’s arms remained crossed over his chest. “Why are you obsessed with Emerson?”
The limo door opened. Emerson appeared. Her face looked strained. Her eyes a bit sad. That was just unacceptable. Instantly, he was reaching for her. Taking her hand. Keeping hold of her. Time for them to get inside for their meeting.
But Owen moved into his path. “I answered your question, Agent Stone. You really the kind of asshole who doesn’t keep his word?”
“Gray isnotan asshole,” Emerson hotly defended.
And that was cute and all. It really was. But they both knew she was lying. “Of course, I’m an asshole, sweetheart. Pretty sure that’s one of the traits you secretly adore about me. But, in this instance, I am an asshole who intends to keep his word.” He inclined his head toward Owen. “Why am I obsessed with Emerson? Easy. She’s about to become my wife. What man isn’t obsessed with his bride?”
Chapter Fifteen
“Everyone’s a suspect. From the check-in clerk to the maids to the busy chefs at the on-site restaurants. Every person you see can be wearing a smiling mask but have a monster lurking on the inside. Stay on guard at all times.” – Gray Stone, right before his “honeymoon” trip with Emerson Marlowe
“Our amenities include horseback riding,sailing, yoga at both sunrise and sunset, bicycle riding, skeet shooting, a world-class golf course, kayaking…” The concierge manager, Hannah McIntyre, stopped to clear her throat. “Although, as a honeymooning couple, you are certainly going to have as much privacy as you would like.”
Emerson stood inside of the massive resort lobby. Marble floors. Gleaming chandeliers. And… “I’m sorry, but do I hear bagpipes playing?” They’d arrived at Sea Island, a private island off the southeastern coast of Georgia just thirty minutes ago. Right before they’d pulled in and Gray had handed off the car rental keys to a valet attendant, he’d slipped an engagement ring—with a mega diamond—and a wedding ring on her finger. Theweight of the two rings was new, and it took considerable effort not to keep wiggling her finger.
The bagpipe music drifted through the massive, open doors that seemed to lead out onto a balcony.
Hannah beamed at her. “Yes, we have a nightly performance by our resident bagpiper.”
A resident bagpiper?
“He serenades our guests to mark the end of the day.”
“Lovely,” Emerson murmured, and she meant it. The music was truly lovely, and if she and Gray weren’t there to track down a killer, she could certainly enjoy the performance.
But…
Theywerethere to find a killer. They were in the beautiful, posh setting because someone was killing couples, and it was their job to stop that perp.My first undercover mission.The day had been a frantic blur of activity. Her mother’s unfortunate arrival. The meeting with the team. Packing and getting clothes to fit their new personas.
Gray had vanished for a while. She had her suspicions about what he’d been doing.Maybe a meeting with Nathaniel?A meeting in which he told her ex to stay the hell away? But she hadn’t been able to question Gray about his disappearance because there had been files to read. Material to prepare. They’d had to get a rental car, get on the road and then…
They’d arrived at their honeymoon destination.
“I had a friend who stayed here about a year ago,” Gray announced. He flashed a smile at Hannah.
Hannah’s own grin stretched more even as she leaned over the counter a bit toward him. Probably because Gray was using his meg-watt, extra charming grin.
Still…He’s married, Hannah.Emerson wrapped her hand around Gray’s arm. She let that lovely diamond catch the light and flash.
“My friend told me about another fun tradition that you have here,” Gray continued. “He said that honeymooners sign your registry?”
“Oh, yes.” A quick nod from Hannah. “Our honeymooning guests have been signing our registry since 1940. We’ve had celebrities, we’ve had royalty…” She gave a little hum. “Names are inscribed in the bound books, and couples come back again and again over the years to pull out those books and see their signatures. I had one couple who celebrated their fiftieth anniversary recently! They wanted to see the book to search out their signatures from their time honeymooning with us. Brought their grandchildren with them.” A soft sigh. “This island is made for romance.”
Well, if Gray’s suspicions were true, it was made for thedeathsof certain romantic couples.
“We have a book for each year,” Hannah informed them. “You’ll be in our current book, and who knows? Maybe fifty years from now, you’ll come back, too!” She brushed back a lock of her hair. “Over forty thousand couples have signed our registry.”
Forty thousand. Okay. That was quite extensive. Emerson realized Gray had probably asked about the registry because he’d wanted to see if there might be more victims out there for the FBI to discover. And a registry with a list of all the honeymooning couples who’d visited would certainly provide them with a great resource to search out potential victims. But…
Forty thousand? It would take some serious time to check back through that many people. And, surely, the killer hadn’t been attacking couples foryears.
But the registrywouldbe a good way for a perp to find his prey. Almost like a menu item for the killer. Open a book, pick a couple, plan for them to die. “What, exactly, is included in the registry?” Emerson wanted to know. “Just the names?”
