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“Especially if the whole gang is in on it,” Moe added.
Beatrice’s skin crawled. “I’m working on tightening security by placing some of our Rock Stars in amongst the other bodyguards, but it has to stay under the radar. We don’t want to alert our insider. He or she has to be someone who has the confidence and trust of Hannah, and possibly her parents.”
“Doesn’t matter who it is, or if the Concordias are all here.” Moe stood, his face a thundercloud. “We’re going to be there to stop them.”
NINETEEN
Thursday night
The Torina Pavilionand Commerce Center was packed by the time Amelia and Rory arrived. Cars came and went, dropping off passengers who streamed across the expansive lawn and sidewalk lighted by modern solar lights and accented with natural plants.
Ahead of them, Connor stopped under the awning at the rear of the building for Cal and Beatrice to get out, the two of them seemingly at ease. There was too much hoopla out front with media outlets and paparazzi, and most in SFI preferred to keep a low profile. Rory would gladly stay under his rock and observe from the comfort of the Bat Cave, if not for Amelia.
Cal, filling his tux like it was a second skin, held out a hand to assist Beatrice from the seat. The golden chiffon of her gown flowed over her and her side swept updo was held in place by a comb that acted as a lock pick and weapon should she need it. It had been designed by Rory himself.
Tate Warren, acting as Rory and Amelia’s chauffeur, spoke into his comm unit. “Testing One-Two-Three. You guys good? Over.”
Rory’s nerves jangled. “Yes, for the fifth time, we’re fucking good. We hear you loud and clear.”
Amelia giggled and he wiped the glare he was sending the rookie from the backseat off his face before he peeked at her. Gorgeous in a deep plum colored dress that fell to her ankles and covered most of the boot, she’d left her hair down and the natural curls brushed her bare shoulders. She’d chosen a sparkling choker and matching bracelet from Beatrice’s collection, both items containing a combo GPS tracker, microphone, and camera.
She quirked a brow at Rory, humorous chastisement dancing in her eyes. He wanted to simply stare at her, skip this event, and whisk her back to the safety of SFI, but he knew how important tonight was. Not just to her, but all of them.
Him included, as Vivi had brazenly pointed out earlier that day when she’d come to see him. “This will be a good test for you,” she’d said. “Think of it as a celebration of how far you’ve come.”
“I have a mission,” he’d growled. “It’s not a party for me. We have to catch this guy and break up the kidnapping ring.”
She held up a finger. “Ifhe’s there and you can figure out who he is. You’ll have every one of us backing you up, so the whole thing isn’t on you. Lighten up a bit. Let yourself enjoy the night and your date.”
“It’s not a date.” He’d convinced himself that since they might possibly catch a kidnapper, and potentially Amelia’s attacker, it was ajob. A mission. “I’m her bodyguard. That’s how I have to look at it.”
Vivi had offered a tolerant smile. “We still have a lot of work to do on you, don’t we?”
His short temper had risen quickly, but she’d turned and waved over her shoulder before disappearing.
Reluctantly, he switched his gaze to Tate. “Sorry, man. I’m keyed up. I don’t do well with crowds.” A worn out excuse, yet still true.
“No prob, Bob,” the kid said, and Rory wanted to kill him all over again. “Perimeter is secure and we have all of you inside looking out for those kids. Connor and I are on surveillance with Trace for the exits after we park. We aren’t using the garage next door, btw. Too crowded and access is challenging due to the elevators, so the vehicles will be two blocks over in a municipal lot. We won’t let anything happen; I swear on my tadpole tattoo.”
Which was no doubt on his ass, a typical spot for them.
And wasn’tthatan image Rory didn’t want in his head.
“Do you all get them?” Amelia asked as they came to a stop under the awning. Pillars wrapped with tiny white lights held it up. Others twinkled on the living tree sculptures lining the sidewalk. It was more than Rory expected but nothing like the overdone decor out front. “The frog tattoos?”
“Used to be they frowned upon them,” Tate said. “It made us too identifiable to the enemy. These days, you’d be hard-pressed to find one of us that doesn’t have at least one, if not a dozen.”
Things had definitely changed since Rory’s stint in the SEALs. He popped the door. “Don’t worry about me. You keep your eyes on Amelia at all times, you hear me, tadpole?”
Tate gave him a mock salute. “Roger that to the tenth, sir.”
Because of the smartass tone, Rory made a mental note to knock him in the head later. He took a deep breath and put on his game face before he exited the vehicle, casually scanning the area as he buttoned his jacket. He took in every detail before he offered Amelia his hand.
As she accepted, wrangling her single crutch out of the back along with her purse, he monitored his watch, showing him video of Moe and Parker waiting in the line of cars out front. Through his open window, Moe handed a member of the parking staff his keys and the man held up a cell, sending the coordinating code for pickup to the phone Moe extended. No paper tickets or other physical markers—it was all done these days by text and bots. Technology was a wonderful thing.
Amelia juggled her purse—the exact replica of the stolen one. Rory had put a tracking device inside the lining of it, and he helped her as she fiddled with the hook and strap Sabrina had designed for it to attach to her crutch. He angled his body like a shield, keeping his beautiful date between him and the car and assisting as best he could.
There was no one back here except Cal and Beatrice, along with a single attendant Hannah had posted for them, but his two bosses inconspicuously did the same, shielding Amelia and keeping their backs to the security camera. It wasn’t that any of them felt an immediate threat, it was simply second nature to close ranks around one of their own.
