Royal Wedding Threat (14 page)

“With...?”

“With your men who saw our...” She looked at his lips and recalled distinctly what they’d felt like pressed to hers. She wanted to feel that again, but they had so much to discuss, and it was already late.

Jason took a step backward and ran his hands through his hair. “Yes, that. I’m afraid it’s all very complicated.
The royal guard has a policy against improper behavior between guards and their charges.”

“You broke your own rules?” Ava felt even worse. “And all your men witnessed it?”

“It’s never been clearly defined what constitutes ‘improper behavior.’”

“I should think kissing would make the list if anything did.”

“That was the interpretation I’d favored in the past.”

“What do you
mean?”

“I mean I’ve specifically instructed my men not to become romantically involved with the women they guard. And then I did that very thing.”

Ava could see how conflicted Jason felt about what he’d done. “You could tell them it was my fault, that I kissed you—”

“I kissed you, Ava.” Jason stepped closer again, so close Ava could smell the faded scent of his aftershave. “I’m
not going to deny it. I’d like to do it again.”

In spite of the guilt she felt, Ava couldn’t help smiling.

Jason grinned back at her, and for a moment she was certain he would try to kiss her, but then he sobered. “It’s late. Kissing you at headquarters might not be entirely improper, but kissing you in your apartment would be. I haven’t even told you the reason I needed to see you.”

Ava felt her smile fade. He hadn’t waited half an hour outside her apartment hoping for a kiss? Of course not. There was still a killer at large. “What did you need?”

“Do you have any pictures of Tiffany? If Dan’s story is correct and she’s here looking for you, then we need to find her.”

“I should be able to find some pictures for you.” Ava crossed the room to her computer and turned
it on. “But we’ve only ever seen a man in a Mariners cap. How do we know Tiffany is in Lydia?”

“We don’t know it.” Jason leaned over the back of her desk chair as Ava sat down to search for pictures. “That’s the other things I wanted to ask you.” He paused.

“Hmm?” Ava prompted once she’d finished typing and waited for her search results to appear.

“Do you have any pictures of your
father?”

“My dad? Why?” She turned in her chair and looked up at him.

Jason cringed, obviously not wanting to answer, but speaking the words anyway. “We considered him a possible suspect in the beginning. He hasn’t been in his office all week—I’ve called and asked for him every day since you were attacked. I’ve yet to hear anything that might clear him, not unless we can prove Dan’s
story is correct, which might never happen. You said your father is of similar build to the man we saw in the security footage asking for you at the gate.”

“Yes, but that was Dan. He admitted that much himself.”

“But the man at the security gate was of similar build to the gunman on Dorsi.”

Ava realized what Jason was getting at. Though she hated to think it possible, her father
might be trying to kill her.

Jason continued, “Does your father ever wear a Mariners cap?”

“Yes. Plenty of men in Seattle do. And yes, he and Dan are both of average height and build. Dan spilled soda on his slacks at our house once, and my father lent him a pair of his pants to change into. They’re the same size—but it’s a common, average size. It doesn’t prove anything.”

“I know
it doesn’t. And I pray to God your father is innocent, but for all we know he could be working with Tiffany. Or Tiffany could be completely innocent and Dan’s story an elaborate ruse. Or it could be something else entirely, a jilted vendor, an old client whose marriage went bad, blaming you for letting them get married in the first place. Until we know who’s after you and have that person in custody,
I’m not taking any chances or exonerating any suspects.”

Ava found the pictures and printed them off, handing them over to Jason silently, her heart too heavy to speak.

“Thank you.” He took the pictures, but barely glanced at them, all his attention on her face. His gray eyes welled with unspoken things, but Ava knew they were both far too tired to discuss anything more that night. And
they had several busy days ahead of them.

Jason left with a quiet goodbye, and Ava locked the door after him.

FOURTEEN

J
ason found Ava in the palace ballroom, ending her meeting with the orchestra who’d be playing for the wedding reception on Saturday.

“How’d it go?” he asked when she spotted him in the doorway and approached with a worried look on her face.

“Well, actually.” In spite of her positive words, she still eyed him warily. “The Sardis Metropolitan Orchestra played
for Isabelle’s wedding as well as several other engagements I’ve coordinated. They’re ready for Saturday night. Between them and the household staff, they don’t even need me here.”

Jason felt relieved to hear it. Given the situation, he’d already considered the possibility of asking her not to be there—for the start of the reception, at least. But that hadn’t been the reason for his visit.

“So what’s up?” Ava asked. “You didn’t just pop by to hear the orchestra.”

“I forwarded the pictures and names to the Lydian travel authorities.”

“And?”

Jason pulled out the paper he’d kept rolled, almost out of sight, in his hand. “They sent me this.”

Ava gasped at the security images, the time and date stamp in the corners indicating the man had come through the Sardis
Airport the previous afternoon. “That’s my father.”

“He flew in under his own name. No attempts to hide behind an alias.”

“But if he just arrived yesterday...”

Jason guessed what she was thinking—the same thing he’d thought when he’d received the message. “The airport has no record of a Douglas Wright arriving or departing at any other time in the past year. This is the one time
he’s flown in under his own name.”

“But he could have come earlier using an alias?” Ava studied his face as she guessed what he was getting at.

“He could have. Or he could have arrived by boat, or flown into a neighboring country and crossed the border by car. We can’t rule out that he wasn’t here earlier, but we do know for certain that he’s arrived.”

“There’s no doubt that’s him.”
Ava’s voice swelled with an emotion—possibly fear—as she looked at the pictures again. “But what is he doing here?”

“I don’t know. I can tell you he’s been away from his office for several days, far longer than it takes to fly here, even assuming flight delays and missed connections. It raises my suspicions.” Jason clamped his mouth shut before he voiced what any of those suspicions were.
Reviewing the photographs with his men, they’d brainstormed plenty of theories, including that Douglas Wright was the gunman, that he’d sneaked into Lydia previously and only now made his arrival known—but for what purpose, they couldn’t say, unless he was hoping to build an alibi.

And since none of those theories had any evidence to support them, Jason saw no reason to distress Ava further.
He’d wanted her to see the pictures, partly so she could confirm the man in the picture was indeed her father and not a doppelgänger flying in under the man’s name. And partly so she’d know what he knew and wouldn’t be caught by surprise if her father suddenly showed up.

Which Jason feared the man might soon do. After all, Doug Wright’s only connection to Lydia was his daughter, Ava. But
the man had been in the country for nearly twenty-four hours and had yet to attempt to contact her.

What was he up to? Was he involved with his wife’s murder? Given the size of Kathleen Wright’s life-insurance policy, the man had stood to benefit greatly from her death, though the insurance company had apparently stalled on the payout. Which led Jason to the painful question he didn’t want
to have to ask.

“Ava?” He took her hand and glanced down the hallway to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. “Do you have a life-insurance policy?”

“I—I think I do. I always did. My parents opened one when I was young. To my knowledge it still exists, as long as my father has continued to pay the premiums.” Her voice cracked as she spoke.

Jason pulled her against his shoulder,
hating that he’d had to ask such difficult questions. “I didn’t want to consider your father a suspect. I still don’t. But given that he’s just arrived in Lydia and you didn’t invite him—”

“I haven’t spoken to him since my mother’s death. I can’t fathom why he’d be here, not for any good reason.”

“We’ll do our best to get to the bottom of this. We don’t know where he went once he left
the airport, but my men are watching for him, just as they’re watching for Tiffany and, of course, anyone wearing a Mariners baseball cap.” He cleared his throat. “I do have some good news—or what I hope you’ll consider good news.”

“What’s that?”

“I was puzzling over how to get the royal couple from the cathedral to the palace safely. We can put the rest of the wedding party and the
royal family in the armor-plated limousines, but Lillian had her heart set on a horse-drawn carriage.”

“I’ve been pondering the same question,” Ava admitted. “I’m told there are catacombs under the cathedral. Do any of them lead to the palace?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Not in any sort of direct, easily accessible route, no. And I’d hate to use the catacombs for such a large event. They’re
supposed to be kept a secret, though of course the royals and the guards know about them. Besides, if the prince and his fiancée will agree to my idea, we won’t have to resort to such an extreme measure.”

“What’s your idea?”

“Well over a hundred years ago—in fact, I believe it was in the same era as the assassination attempt on Queen Victoria that you brought up the other day—the reigning
Lydian monarch took proactive measures against assassination attempts and ordered a bulletproof carriage. When bulletproof glass was invented, the carriage was retrofitted with windows large enough for the passengers to be seen waving to their subjects while still being protected from gunfire.”

“That’s a fabulous idea, Jason, but the wedding is in two days. We can’t possibly have such a thing
built—”

“We don’t have to.” Jason squeezed her hand. “The carriage still exists. It’s in the museum of military history right here in Sardis.”

Ava’s eyes widened. “But it’s a museum relic. Does it even still work?”

“We can have the glass checked and replaced—that should be possible in two days’ time. Sardis has a fabulous glass shop. They did quite a bit of bulletproof work for
us following the insurgent coup last summer. And the carriage should be fully operational. All we have to do is hitch up horses to pull it. The pair who were going to pull the open carriage should have no trouble making the switch. This model is a little heavier—”

Ava cut off his words by practically leaping up at him, pulling down his face and planting a kiss on his lips.

He kissed
her back, wrapping his arms around her and relishing the feel of her before he self-consciously pulled back and looked around to be sure they hadn’t been spotted. The hallway was empty. “So you approve of my idea?”

“I love your idea. I promised Lillian the wedding of her dreams. Thanks to you, she might still get it.”

Jason beamed down at Ava, delighted that he’d brought a smile to her
face in spite of everything else that was going on. “I hope so.”

* * *

Ava led Prince Alexander and Lillian out through the back courtyard doors. Jason had called to say the carriage was ready for royal inspection. The new windows had yet to be fitted, but he wanted the royal couple’s appraisal before he proceeded with the update.

“What’s the surprise?” Lillian asked as they stepped
outside and looked around.

“Watch the vehicle gates.” Ava pointed just as the gates swung open.

A pair of matching gray steeds stepped through, pulling the rounded coach, its domed top sparkling in the sunlight.

“It’s a Cinderella carriage,” Lily gasped. “But I thought you said we’d have to ride in bulletproof vehicles.”

“Darling, I believe it
is
bulletproof,” Alexander noted,
clearly recognizing the carriage from the museum.

“It is—or it will be, once the windows are replaced with newer glass. We don’t want to take any chances. Do you like it?”

As she spoke, the horses came to a stop in front of them, and the footman hopped down from his perch behind the vehicle to come around and open the door.

“I love it. It’s perfect!” Lillian let the footman help
her inside, and Alexander stepped in after her.

“Take it for a spin,” Ava instructed them. “Let me know if we need to replace the springs.”

Jason stepped to her side as she spoke. “It sounds like Lillian approves,” he noted with a smile.

“I’m so glad she does. Your idea was inspired.”

“I had another idea I hope you’ll approve of.”

“What’s that?”

“Dye your hair brown.”

Ava hadn’t been expecting him to suggest anything of the sort. It took her a moment to absorb what he’d said. “But all the vendors recognize me because of my hair. That’s part of why I dyed it red in the first place—to make me easily visible.”

“I don’t want you to be easily visible.”

The horses pranced a wide turn along the loop at the end of the courtyard and pulled the carriage
to a stop again in front of them. The footman hopped down to help the royal couple disembark.

“Think about it?” Jason’s voice softened. “I know it sounds extreme, but I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

Ava met his eyes and saw sincere affection simmering there. Not trusting her voice, she simply nodded, waving goodbye to him as she stepped toward the royal couple. There wasn’t time to
discuss his suggestion further. She was always busy in the last two days before any wedding. Given that Alexander was a prince and the media had arrived en masse to cover the event, she had to make sure everything was as perfect as it could be.

The fact that someone was trying to kill her complicated things even further.

* * *

Jason arrived at the Sardis Cathedral early the next
morning with a team of his men. The wedding rehearsal wouldn’t begin until later that afternoon, followed by a dinner for the wedding party back at the palace. The wedding party would travel by armored limousines, including the royal couple. The carriage was still in the shop and wouldn’t be ready until the next day.

But before anyone arrived, Jason and his men would do a thorough sweep of
the cathedral. He’d arranged for the Sardis Police Bomb Squad to meet them later with their dogs. He wasn’t about to take any chances, not with lives—especially Ava’s life—in danger.

The cathedral was every bit as familiar to him as the palace. He could picture the layout of the entire floor plan, including the subterranean crypt. If anything looked out of place, he and his men would spot
it.

Decorating crews had been working on the cathedral for the past two days, draping twinkle lights and tulle, placing candles ready to be lit. Everything was in place except the flowers, which would arrive early the next morning. Jason already had a team assigned to make sure no one sneaked in while the florists were at work.

At all other times, the building was to remain locked. He
positioned guards at the front and rear entrances to make certain nothing was disturbed. They’d been in place in rotating shifts for most of the week. He’d taken every precaution he could think of, and yet Jason couldn’t shake the fear that it wouldn’t be enough.

He met the bomb squad near the rear doors and assigned his men to accompany them through the building. Just as he stepped after
one of the teams to shadow their work, his phone rang.

“Captain Selini,” he answered.

“Douglas Wright is at the main palace gate.” The transmission of Oliver’s voice broke up as he spoke, making it difficult for Jason to be sure of what he’d heard. Realizing the thick cathedral stones were probably messing with his signal, he stepped outside into the back alley and small rear parking
area where several news vans were already parked. Fortunately he didn’t see any sign of their crews—they were probably around front or interviewing locals for their insider perspectives.

“Douglas Wright?” he repeated. “Ava’s father?”

“Yes. He came asking for Ava—”

“Is she in a secure location?” Jason could make out the words much better now, though he didn’t like what he was hearing.

“She’s inside the palace, meeting with the reception crew. Paul and Sam are watching her. They’ve been informed of the situation, but I’ve instructed them not to tell her just yet—and to keep her from leaving the building, if possible.”

Jason appreciated Oliver’s apt understanding of the situation, including his assessment of Paul’s and Sam’s likelihood of keeping the wedding planner
from leaving if she’d made her mind up to go anywhere. He’d agreed to let her come to the cathedral for the rehearsal, but only while he was at her side. “Is Doug Wright armed?”

“They’re performing a pat down right now.”

“Can you detain him? Or transfer him to my phone so I can speak with him?”

“He’s agitated. He’s scuffling with them.” Oliver sounded like a ball-game announcer
calling plays. “I’m watching everything on the security screen. What’s that? He tripped Milos. He’s running. Elias is after him.”

Jason held his breath. He could guess what the outcome would be. Elias had already passed retirement age, but the faithful royal guard had insisted on serving at least until the recruits from the army were properly trained. With Milos down, there was every likelihood
Ava’s father could escape.

At the same time, Jason couldn’t let them leave the gate unguarded. “Dispatch more guards to cover the gate.”

He heard Oliver do just that. Men could reach the gate from headquarters in seconds if they ran. Jason had full staff in place, and even the men who hadn’t been assigned to the wedding shift had volunteered to work double shifts. Manpower shouldn’t
be a problem, but Jason hadn’t expected to need extra men at that gate.

“They’re at the gate. Milos is up—they waved him on. He’s running.”

“What now? Where is Doug Wright?”

“He’s beyond the range of my cameras. I’ll try to get Elias on his earpiece.”

Oliver’s voice became faint as Jason heard him addressing the guards who’d been stationed at the front palace gate. Jason prayed
his men would detain Ava’s father. He couldn’t imagine why the man would approach the gate only to run away. Was it a ruse, an attempt to pull the guards away from their posts so an accomplice could sneak inside?