Fiancé by Friday Page 40
“If our guy is listening…which I think he will be, that will buy us time.”
She sipped her tea. “Time for what, Neil? What do you have planned?”
Trap the motherfucker and get him before he gets us. But Neil couldn’t exactly tell Gwen that.
“Setting a trap.”
“Isn’t that hard out here like this? Shouldn’t we find a place to stay?”
Neil shoveled a pancake in his mouth.
Gwen tilted her head to the side. “You already have a place in mind.”
He nodded.
“Would this place have a bed and a hot shower free of wildlife?”
What a trooper Gwen turned out to be. “I think I can arrange that…eventually.”
“Brilliant.” She started to pick at her food again. “The bed last night was surprisingly comfortable.”
“Food always tastes better when you’re starved.” Like the buttermilk pancakes he was putting away.
Gwen watched him bite into his food. She sucked in her lower lip and hummed. “Much better.”
Her seductive stare took hold of his body.
“You’re insatiable.”
“Been called worse.”
Was it getting hot in here? “Put that thought away, Gwendolyn. We need to put some miles between us and this dive today.”
She lifted her glass of ice water to her forehead and placed the two together. “We need to stop…eventually.”
He should probably be putting a filter over his actions with this woman, but he couldn’t bring himself to.
Twenty minutes later, he turned on the prepaid cell phone and made the one call he would from it.
Dean picked up on the second ring. “Neil?”
“We’re OK. Safe.”
“You should have stayed here. We could have—”
“You can’t protect us from this one, Dean. Your force isn’t big enough. This guy is smart. Military, if I had to guess. Let Blake know Gwen’s safe.” He smiled at her over the hood of the car.
“Can I talk to her?”
“No time. You’ll hear from one of us in twenty-four hours. Then we’re silent for three days.”
“Jesus, Neil. Tarzana PD is asking questions. I can only hold them off for so long.”
Questions? What kind of questions? He didn’t have time to ask.
“Twenty-four hours, Dean. Trust me. I know what I’m doing.” He hung up and tucked the phone under the wheel of the car. Cell phone towers could pinpoint the call within a few miles. Hopefully Dean didn’t look for a day or two.
“Ready?” he turned to Gwen and asked.
“Ready!”
Between the media attention after her marriage to Michael and the dead neighbors at the Tarzana house, Karen hadn’t had a private moment alone in weeks. She didn’t like the fact that Gwen had run off with Neil, regardless of what everyone else thought. Neil was a bit quiet for her taste. Hard to read. It wouldn’t take a lot for Gwen to jump in the Neil truck because of her unrequited desire for the guy. But what happened when the sex grew stale and Gwen realized that Neil was running from the shadows of his past and dragging her along with him?
Karen reminded herself that if Neil was actually overreacting to the neighbors’ final dip in the hot tub, then there was a real possibility of someone watching her…someone trying to scare her.
It worked. Karen was scared.
Then again, now that she and Michael were married perhaps the birds would stop.
Karen turned onto the street of the Boys and Girls Club for the first time since she said I do. She picked a quiet day as to not cause too much of a stir with the kids. Until they grew used to the fact that she was married to a movie star, she would keep her visits brief. Sooner or later, they’d realize she was the same person. Just one who hung around with the rich and famous.
She parked her car in her usual spot and twisted the key out of the ignition. Her gaze fell on the ring on her finger. Not overly huge, but not a chip off the diamond block either.
So far, the temporary marriage thing was a breeze. She didn’t even feel guilty about saying “I do” when she clearly didn’t. Michael described it as a yearlong role where they’d both get a payout in the end.
His publicist had shown up shortly after they arrived from France to congratulate them on their marriage. And then Michael’s agent made a house call, too. His producer sent flowers and champagne and some of his actor friends insisted they have a reception. Karen agreed to do whatever Michael wanted. As she told him…this is his movie, I’m only acting in it.
She only wished that Gwen was back and all the dead bird crap was over before their party.
And what about Aruba?
What was wrong with her? People were dead, a couple were running from God only knew who or what, and here she was thinking of engagement parties and trips to Aruba.
Karen pushed out of the car. The Hollywood lifestyle is already getting into my veins.
Inside the walls of the club, the kids noticed her one at a time. The girls jumped up first and rushed to her side. “Oh my God, Miss Jones. I can’t believe you’re married.”
“It’s Mrs. Wolfe, now,” said one of the kids.
Karen wasn’t going to correct them. They decided not to change her name. Actors almost never changed their names for their spouses. If the reporters in the tabloids found out that Karen didn’t make the change, they wouldn’t think anything of it.
“Hi, girls.”
Amy hugged her with open arms and Nita piled in, too.
“Is it true you went to France in a private plane?”
“We did. It was amazing.”
“You’re in all the papers. I told my teachers that you were you…Mr. Jenkins didn’t believe me until the news van showed up here the day after you guys ran off.” Amy’s eyes brightened as she told her story.
By now, the boys started to meander closer. In typical teenage fashion, they listened with one ear in and the other on the buzz of their cell phones.
“Are you just here for a visit, or are you sticking around?” Steve asked.
“Trying to get rid of me, Steve?”
He pulled his eyes away from his cell. “Just wondering.”
“I have to get a few things settled, but I’ll be back. Think you guys can stay on top of your homework without me for a couple of weeks?”
Steve shrugged and several kids said they’d work hard.
Jeff walked from one of the back offices, grinning as he approached.
“I can’t believe you actually married him!” Jeff hugged her.