Final Surrender (27 page)

Clay passed her off like a sack of potatoes and Mark squeezed her tight. “I told you everything would turn out all right. Can’t believe you doubted me,” he whispered in her ear.

Angela hugged him fiercely as she said, “Thanks for everything, Mark, and thanks for being here.”

“Anytime, Angie, anytime.”

He set her down so she could be congratulated by their mom and dad and Clare, who hugged her quickly then asked, “So do you want to get married here in New York or run off to Vegas or somewhere more exotic?”

She thought about it for a moment and tried to think of the one place in the world she wanted to dedicate herself, heart, body and spirit to the man of her dreams. She walked back over to where Clay stood, leaning into his side as she thought of her thinking spot. “I think I know the perfect spot we can use as soon as it warms up a bit.”

Clay kissed her forehead and pulled her close and said, “You name the time and the place and I’ll be there. Nothing could keep me away.”

“I love you,” she proclaimed again.

“And I you, for always.” He squeezed her gently and then said, “Everybody, we’d like to introduce you to someone.” He took several steps back, pulling Angela along with him as Mark and the rest of the family eyed him suspiciously.

“Who are we meeting, Clay?” Clare asked, looking around.

Clay looked up at the beautiful baby girl in her only moments of life, captured so poignantly in black-and-white. “Our daughter, Melena,” he said proudly as he reached up and touched the glass.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The next day was a whirlwind of activity. Last-minute fittings for all of the models took most of the day, and then everyone had to work late into the night to get everything packed and ready for the early morning trek to Lincoln Center.

Most of the family had already gone to bed except Clay, Mark and Campbell, who now stood over Angela’s conference room table, brooding.

Every bit of evidence lay out before them, and after several hours of staring at it and discussing theory upon theory, they weren’t any closer to pinpointing the person they were looking for than they had been when they started.

It could be another designer, or a cabbie that had lost his mind, or the guy she bought her chestnuts from.

“No one is that smart,” Campbell declared as he walked to the windows and stared out over the city.

“No, they aren’t,” Clay announced. “We’re just missing something. I know it. I’ve had this feeling from the beginning but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Me, too,” echoed both Mark and Campbell.

Mark picked up one of the collages and added, “It feels so familiar.”

“Exactly,” affirmed Clay. “But I can’t figure out why.” He picked up one of the other photographs and said, “I even had James fax over all of the lab reports from everything so I could go over it again.”

Campbell walked back over and took a seat, crossed his big boot-clad feet on the desk and then leaned back in the office chair while he laced his fingers behind his head.

“In the past few weeks I’ve listened to all of the phone call recordings to get
something
, Clay, and there isn’t anything. There is more than a year and a half’s collection of evidence sitting in front of us and the perp could be Mary Poppins for all I know.”

Campbell continued after a brief frustrated pause. “Well, since we still have no idea what needle we’re looking for in the haystack tomorrow, we’ll have to be on our game. We won’t let anything happen to her, I promise you.”

Mark agreed with a nod of his head and threw the picture down. “Metal detectors will be at every entrance and the NYPD detectives, including Wyatt, will be close by if we need them. Undercover FBI. Nothing is going to get past us.”

Clay picked up another picture and confessed, “God, I hope you’re right. For all she’s been through up to this point, we’ve got to end this tomorrow. I want her to be able to relax and enjoy the rest of her pregnancy after the show, not live in fear of every moment and each phone call.”

A small and tired voice answered from the doorway. “Are you guys still putting the puzzle together in here?” Yeah, she’d been listening at the door, but eavesdropping was fun. At least Campbell told her that on a very frequent basis.

Campbell got up quickly and Clay led her to the newly vacated seat.

She sat down gingerly. “Do you think you may have overdone it a little bit today?” Clay asked as he removed her shoes for her and rubbed her small feet.

“Probably,” she answered flatly as she absentmindedly rubbed her belly.

“All ready for tomorrow?” asked Mark as he sat next to her on the desk.

“As I’ll ever be. I got the last of the accessories packed tonight. Metal belts and all the shoes. Not to mention all of the necessary things needed to make last-minute alterations and fix issues. Scissors, pins, tape, etcetera. I am confident that I’ve packed up most of the workroom,” she smiled.

“Now Campbell has briefed you on what’s going to happen tomorrow?” Clay asked as he stood in front of her.

“Yup. One of you will be with me
at all times
. If I see anything suspicious or out of place, I need to tell you immediately, and when the bombs start going off I’m supposed to put my head between my knees and kiss my ass goodbye.” She chuckled, mentally patting herself on the back for her joke.

Clay and Mark stared back at her face. They were mortified and she tried valiantly to stifle a laugh until Clay reached out and smacked Campbell on the back of the head.

“What the hell did you tell her that for?” Clay roared.

Campbell was failing at holding back his laughter. He rubbed the back of his head. “I was trying to make her laugh. She thought it was funny,” he added as he grabbed his jacket.

“Well, it wasn’t,” Mark grumbled.

Campbell leaned over and kissed Angela on the cheek, “Thanks for ratting me out, Judas!”

She squeezed him tightly and said, “You’re welcome! Thanks for being here, Campbell.”

He hugged her back, honestly replying, “I wouldn’t be anywhere else. Sleep tight.”

She released him and he mumbled good night to both the other men, who grumbled in return.

“I’m exhausted, Clay. Let’s go to bed.” He was there to help her to her feet and before she could protest he had swung her up into his arms again. She smiled. “Before long you’re going to have to be carrying me everywhere.”

Clay carried her through the doorway, inhaling the sweet smell he said always lingered on the hollow of her neck. “I love carrying you, Angela. I’ll carry you to the ends of the earth if I had to. Before long we are going to be bound together forever. It amazes me that you loved me so unconditionally. That you believed in me all these years. I promise to return the favor.”

“Just love me. That’s all I need to survive,” Angela admitted as they made their way upstairs to crash for a few short hours.

The entire crew showed up at the studio at around 5 a.m. the next morning.

Everyone had barely gotten any sleep, but they all seemed to be running on some kind of false adrenaline high.

The deadline of the threats was today in the LC and everyone knew it.

Angela knew they were all putting on a brave face for her, and tears kept threatening to breach her eyelids and streak down her face.

“We’re all with you, Ang,” Jose said before climbing in with the last van full of stuff. He gave her the thumbs up as he swung the door closed behind him.

Maddy was riding with her and Clay in the limo, driven by Ron. It was packed with the most precious pieces from the collection. Things they couldn’t lose.

The rest of her family was following in a taxi and they had promised to lay low, except for Mark, who carried a Glock 9mm, much to Angela’s dismay.

“It will all be fine, Angela,” Clay asserted as they pulled into traffic.

“But Mark is…”

“Mark is a big boy. A long-lost cowboy more than able to take care of himself. He has a concealed license. He’s almost as good a shot as I am. And he’s not going to be active security here, but he can sure as hell keep an extra eye on Clare and your parents.”

Angela let out a deep breath and her heart ached that the people she cared for most in the world were putting themselves directly in harm’s way to protect her and the baby.

“NYPD and FBI will be all over the venue. Plain sight and undercover. Homeland security too if I’m not mistaken since the bomb threat is so high. We’ve got this place locked down. No one is getting in or out if they don’t have clearance. We’ve got this covered.”

“I know, but that doesn’t make me worry any less.”

“No, but this will end today. No more threats. No more nightmares. Just trust us. You worry about the clothing and all your foo-foo girl stuff, and we’ll take care of the bad guy, okay?”

“I hope you’re right.”

“He’s right, Ang,” Maddy added modestly. “You’ll be free after today. Just focus on the show and don’t worry about anything else. Remember the offer’s still there if you want to skip out. No one will think less of you. The last couple years have been…intense.”

Angela thought for a moment but there wasn’t any other answer she could give. “I’m not letting him win. I won’t stand down. This is me, who I am. I’ve worked my entire life to be where I am.” She took Maddy’s hand, holding on tight. “You and the rest of my people…I have you to thank. For putting up with all of this, hunkering down, pushing past all the roadblocks. So no, I won’t be running. I will not tuck my tail again. We make a stand today. Do or die right?”

Both women stared at each other until Maddy nodded, admiration clear in her gaze. She squeezed Angela’s hand then focused on one of her checklists.

The ride was mostly a silent one and Angela drew strength from Clay’s hand protectively resting on her knee.

She laid her hand on top and squeezed reassuringly.

She watched Maddy, glancing over some of the final sketches and making sure that each detail was in order.

“If I don’t say it enough, Maddy, thank you.” Angela said directly.

She looked up like a deer in headlights. “For what? You could have done all of this without me.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “You have great talent. I’ve always been so fortunate to have your help.” Even Maddy had been nervous the last few days and that was really saying something for someone that was so even keeled all the time. She was sick of the worry and the guilt over everyone’s safety.

Maddy smiled brightly and said, “It was your idea for the line. No one will be expecting it. Let’s knock ’em dead today!”

“Sounds good to me,” Angela answered. “Sounds good to me.”

They arrived a few minutes later and everyone scrambled out of the vans, unloading, trying to get through the metal detectors with containers that were too big and stomachs that were too anxious.

Angela even set off one of the metal detectors with her bucket of belts and purses she had packed the night before.

She jumped about a mile, and once Campbell calmed her down, she laughed nervously and went on through to her prep area. Maddy took the container from her before she could drop it and said, “Let me, Ang. I got it. Everything’s going great. No worries.”

Several other designers were getting ready to show the same day, so the security was even harder to control. Angela had to explain to several rather frustrated designers who thought the men with the metal detectors were just trying to steal their designs.

Once they heard the situation, they were stunned and some more than willing to accommodate the measures being taken for her safety. Others only eyed her suspiciously, which couldn’t be helped.

Angela breathed a sigh of relief when everything had been moved inside. It looked like one hell of a storm was brewing outside, and once her creations were all protected she relaxed just a little.

Clay stomped around backstage a couple hours later, never far from Angela, and was shocked at the amount of stuff they had hauled in.

Rack after rack, clothing stood next to every wall. Models raced around, trying to get their hair and makeup done, along with what seemed like dozens of other girls waiting in line for clothing or accessories of some kind.

He was amazed that Angela always seemed calm and patient, no matter if it was dealing with a frantic model who couldn’t find the right shoes or the hair dresser that couldn’t work under the conditions he was presented with.

She was pleasant without being condescending, but forceful enough to get the job done.

He walked up to her in between crises and asked, “How in the world do you keep everything organized? It’s a madhouse back here!”

“Nah, this is nothing. Maddy actually came up with a system for us a couple years ago. She makes kind of a visual roster for each look. Each clear vinyl pouch has a sketch of the outfit with color swatches of the actual fabric used. Then we also keep the model snapshot and measurements in there as well. We’ve never lost a piece yet.”

Angela walked over and held up one of the plastic sleeves so he could see what she was talking about.

“Well, you guys are thorough to a fault, I’d say.”

He looked at the pouch a few seconds longer. The smell was nostalgic and he just couldn’t place why it made him think of one of his buddies from the service. After a second more he asked, “How are you holding up?”

“How are you?” Angela asked with a tilt of her eyebrows.

“All right, smarty-pants, just keep your eyes open and don’t leave my sight.”

Angela smiled and hugged him while no one was watching. “What am I looking for? A tall man standing in the shadows twirling his mustache at me?”

“Just anything out of the ordinary,” he added as Campbell signaled him from the corner of his eye.

Angela said, “Yes,
El Capitan
,” and saluted like a good little soldier.

Clay stood there shaking his head. He mumbled, “Smart-ass,” under his breath as Angela walked away a few feet to go deal with a bad hair-do on a model and Campbell took her place.

“Anything new?” he asked Campbell.

“Nada. We saw no one suspicious hanging around outside, except the normal photogs that know they aren’t supposed to be here, but camp out anyway.”

Frustration clung to Clay as he surveyed the area, knowing what he missed was so close he could almost taste it.

“Just keep watching, Campbell. We’ve got to find it before it finds her.” He nodded toward Angela.

She stood at such an angle you could make out her bump when she raised her arms. Her slim black slacks and cashmere lavender sweater kept it under wraps most of the time.

Before Angela knew it, the assistant for the event was yelling her name backstage and the main emcee announced it over the speaker to everyone sitting in their chairs.

The show was about to start.

Things were in place. All but one of her models had shown up, on time, thankfully she had a fill-in model poised and ready to go for the one that had to cancel.

The model’s excuse was definitely a legitimate one.

The outfits had to be changed around, altered slightly to fit the new model, but all in all, everything she had done was exactly how she imagined it.

The new models were a necessity she couldn’t wait to reveal to the attendees.

Her name was announced one last time, and before she stepped out onto the stage she turned to look at her staff, all eerily turning to her at the same instant.

She blew them all a kiss and some waved back, others nodded. Clay took her wrist and pulled her close. “Break a leg, love.”

“Thanks,” she whispered and then moved in before he could think straight. She pushed him back slightly against the wall and kissed him like it was her last chance. His hands moved up and cupped her face and their tongues found common ground as they explored each facet of acceptance they had denied themselves for so long.