“We’ll be looking for you.”
She disconnected and thumbed to her call log.
“Raj? I need a favor.”
“Alessandra, how’s the new piece?” he bellowed.
“Stop trying to get attention and start paying attention. I have an emergency, and you’re the only one who can help.”
“Tell me more,” he said around what she assumed was a mouthful of party appetizers.
“Camille Vorhees is there. I need you to get past her security and give her your phone.”
“No way, man. I just got it last week.”
“Not to keep. To talk to me.”
“That’s a stupid idea. I don’t know what went down with you two because you won’t tell me, but there’s no way this is going to do anything good for your rep.”
“I don’t care about my rep or how many cocktail shrimp you can fit in your mouth at once—”
“Actually, it’s sushi.”
“I need you to do this for me.”
“Fine. But if I get punched out by Mount Saint Helens in a suit for my troubles, you’re subletting your place to me.”
“Yeah. Fine. Whatever. Just do it. And be cool. Try not to get punched for once in your life.”
“Whatever.”
Remi gnawed on her thumbnail and waited as she listened to the background noises of a typical fundraising event. Just like one of the dozens she’d attended with Camille.
“Camille!” she heard Raj say. Her heart started to pound. This was the closest she’d been since the hospital. The sound was muffled, and she couldn’t make out anything that was being said.
Nearly a minute went by. Long enough for Remi to feel like she was going to barf.
“Hello?”
Relief crashed over her like a tidal wave. “Camille?”
“Remi? What are you doing? This isn’t safe.”
“I know. I just. Are you okay? Do you need help getting out?”
“I’m flattered,” Camille said brightly. “I’ll be happy to make an introduction between you and the designer.”
“Is your security there?” Remi asked.
“Yes, of course,” Camille said.
“I don’t know how to reach you. I’m on Mackinac. Warren said if I didn’t stay away—”
“My husband certainly appreciates your support.”
“How do I get you out?” Remi hissed.
“I need a moment,” Camille said to someone else, and Remi could imagine her friend pulling the Ice Queen routine with her security. “Remi, you can’t do this. You can’t make any kind of contact. It’s not safe.”
“You need to get out. Come to Mackinac. We can keep you safe. We can figure out a way to nail him for the accident. I know he’s hurting you again.”
“Hurting me doesn’t earn him a lifetime behind bars,” Camille whispered.
“Then what would? There’s got to be something. Give me something to look into and get the hell out of there.”
“Warren and I appreciate your generosity,” she said a little louder. “He’s looking forward to re-election. I’ll give you back to Rajesh now.”
And with that, her friend was gone.
Twenty minutes later, Remi stood behind her niece and nephew on the boardwalk that overlooked the lake as Brick and his crew maneuvered the Marine Rescue closer to shore. The kids, still a little unsteady from Kimber’s announcement that they’d be staying with Uncle Brick and Aunt Remi for a bit while their mom and dad figured some things out, waved.
A glum-looking Mega plopped his butt on the boardwalk and leaned against Remi’s legs.
The feeling that she’d just made a very dangerous mistake clung to her like a fog.
When Brick lumbered through the front door at midnight, she was waiting for him.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, not bothering to shed his coat. “What happened? Are the kids okay?”
Remi swallowed. “I think I fucked up.”
He gripped her shoulders, ice in his eyes. “Talk.”
To his credit, Brick restrained himself—barely—from murdering her while she explained.
He had his back to her, his hands on hips. She watched his shoulders rise and fall with the breaths he took to calm down. And for some reason, it made her feel safer.
“Remington, what you did was…” His voice was deceptively calm.
“Stupid and irresponsible. Believe me, I know. But I talked to her, Brick.”
He turned to face her when her voice broke, his jaw tightening when he saw her face.
When he traced a thumb over her cheek, she nuzzled into the touch. He hissed out a breath. “I hate how you can make me feel like strangling you and holding you at the same time.”
“I’m sorry. I’m scared, Brick. She sounded…I don’t know. Resigned? Like there wasn’t any fight left in her.” She broke away from him, but he caught her wrists and pulled her back into his heat, into his hard body.
“Tell me again what she said. Exactly what she said,” he ordered.
44
The first ferry of tourists at the end of April usually brought a sense of jubilance. However, this year, it had Brick staring grimly at each passenger as they disembarked. He’d kept vigilant watch as the ferry lines began their regular runs again, bringing freight, supplies, and seasonal workers back to the tiny island.
Warren Vorhees’s face, one he’d never seen in person, was emblazoned in his brain. Trouble was coming. He could feel it in his gut. Knew Chief Ford sensed it, too. She stood next to him, her face impassive as always as she watched a family of four disembark for a chilly day of fun.
Brick envied them. Wished he could be escorting Remi out to her pick of restaurants that were now opened.
But circumstances being what they were with danger lurking nebulously just off the radar, he could only keep her close and wait.
Less than a week after Remi’s ill-conceived call to Camille, security footage of her attacking Warren in the hospital was leaked to the press.
The entire story had blown up again, the flames fed this time with quotes from the Vorhees.
She’d pretended it didn’t bother her. But Brick knew better. Every time she came in from the studio, green eyes rimmed red, Brick vowed to destroy the man. Take him apart piece by piece for every moment of pain he’d caused her.
So he’d begun in the most natural place. By alerting Vorhees that there was an obstacle. Him.
“What the fuck did you do?” Remi’s reaction had been loud and emotional. “Are you trying to make yourself a target?”
It was exactly why he’d sent the pictures to Rajesh. One Kimber had taken of them locked in an embrace in Remi’s studio as they flirted with an argument about dinner. Another, a selfie Remi had taken of the two of them in bed. She was beaming at the camera while Brick watched her with an undeniable hunger, his hand clamped over her shoulder and neck. It reflected only a tenth of the possessiveness he felt over her. But it served a purpose. It sent a message.
It had taken her agent less than two hours to have the pictures appearing on dozens of blogs and news sites.
Then he’d gone to the chief. Once the screaming match between mother and daughter was over, they’d prepared. They’d kept the circle small, including a few key members of the department, sticking with residents and year-rounders they knew they could trust. Chief Ford had also read in a few of the more trustworthy, eagle-eyed residents on the general situation. It was a small town. Someone would see him. Someone would report him.