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“Matt, Matt,” Tony yelled, dashing to the bed, then stared into the steely eyes of his sneering cousin still holding the precious medication. “You’ve fucking killed him. Why did you have to do that? I called you for help, not to—”
“Do you want to be next, birdbrain?” Roland threatened, dropping the bottle on the bed and swiftly producing a switchblade. “You can forget the cousin bullshit. I’ll cut you inch by fucking inch until you talk.” Lunging forward and grabbing Tony by the arm, he drove him from the room and into the hall. “Don’t fucking insult me by saying you don’t know shit.”
“Okay, okay,” Tony whimpered as two other men grabbed him. “Like I said when I called you, Matt paid me ten grand to get a van and help him pick up Bianca, but I still have no idea who hired him. He had instructions to bring her to this house, then the storm hit and somehow she got away, but I wasn’t here. I’ve got a girl in Santa Monica. Right after we arrived I went to see her, then Matt called and said Bianca had gone. That’s when I called you, and I came here right away, that’s it, I swear, that’s everything.”
“Think hard, Tony. Is there anyone around here who might have come to her rescue?”
“Uh, yeah, there’s a guy who lives down the street. Matt told me about him. His name is Nick Vincelli.”
“Nick Vincelli,” Roland repeated thoughtfully. “Details. Give me details.”
“I guess Bianca gave Matt the slip when they first got here, and that’s when she met Vincelli. His cottage was damaged during the storm, and now he’s in the house next door with his fiancée. She arrived a little while ago, but I don’t know if he helped Bianca. Maybe she just got away by herself.”
“Alec, stay with him,” Roland ordered, swiftly removing the brightly colored vest. “I won’t be long.”
* * *
Jumping to his feet and hastily removing the AirPod, Nick hurried back to Bianca, only to find she’d fallen asleep.
“Wake up,” he said urgently, grabbing her arm.
“I must have dozed off,” she muttered, slowly opening her eyes. “What’s the matter? Has something happened?”
“It sure as hell has. Do you have a bikini?”
“Uh, yeah,” she mumbled, climbing from the bed. “What’s going on?”
“I was right,” he continued hastily. “Those workers clearing the road were sent by your father. You were tracked here.”
“Oh, no! How did you find out, and why the bikini?”
“They charged in on Matt and Tony while I was listening in. Tony just told them I’d crossed paths with you and Matt on the beach. A guy is on his way over right now to check me out,” Nick declared as she retrieved the revealing swimwear in the suitcase. “Does the name Roland ring any bells?”
“Roland!” she exclaimed, darting her eyes up. “He’s head of Dad’s security.”
“Have you spent much time around him?”
“No, and I’ve never wanted to. He gives me the creeps.”
“Thank God for that,” Nick mumbled, running his hand through his thick, dark hair. “I want you standing at the top of the stairs in your bikini, and put sunglasses on. It will look as if you just came in from the upstairs patio. As soon as he sees your blonde hair he’ll focus on the rest of you, and trust me, he’ll be distracted. But don’t linger. Go outside and settle in a lounge chair, and wear the—”
But the doorbell echoed through the house, cutting him off.
“Hat,” he finished.
“Nick, this is terrifying. If Roland recognizes me he could jump to the wrong conclusion about you.”
“He won’t do either of those things,” Nick said quickly. “You must stay calm. Just stand on the landing, but don’t speak. When he looks up and sees you, Bianca Albertini will be the last thing on his mind.”
“Okay. Shit.”
“Deep breaths, Kitty,” he added softly with a wink, then kissing her quickly, he marched from the room, then called Brad as he moved down the stairs.
“Hey, Nick, what’s up?”
“Get over here now. One of those goons is at my door. When I let you in, tell me there’s a problem at my house and you need to talk to me. Make it sound urgent.”
“I’m on my way.”
