Reclaiming His Bride (DiCarlo Brides book 3) (The DiCarlo Brides) (23 page)

When Alanna Jenkins walked into the foyer a few minutes later, Lana was not surprised. “Hello, I’m here for the Chronicle,” Alanna stated.

“Of course you are,” Lana said. “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can say at this time, however. We’re still waiting for word from the police.”

Alanna glanced around at the employees’ tight faces. “Word hasn’t gotten out to the guests yet?” she asked, her voice low.

“We haven’t made any announcements yet. But they’ll know soon.” Too soon.

Studying Lana, the reporter tucked her recorder into her back pocket. “Looks like things have moved past the realm of rumor.”

Lana touched her stomach, which was still pretty queasy, and let out a low breath. “Yeah. Look, there’s really nothing I can tell you right now. And if I did, PR would kill me.” She let herself smile slightly. “If I promise to send you an email with the statement as soon as it’s drafted, would that be okay?”

Alanna’s brows lifted. “Yeah, because I love having the television news scoop me.”

“It was worth a try. We’re going to ask all media to stay back, though,” Lana paused to consider, deciding the fact that Alanna had kept conjectures about the pregnancy test to herself was worth currying a little good will. “How about if I get you a hot chocolate or cappuccino to sip on while you wait out there in the cold?” While Alanna was far from the biggest reporter she would have to worry about, the local news mattered to the community.

“If I gotta leave, hot chocolate is a nice little balm to my pride.”

Lana got her a drink at the café, then directed the concierge and bell boy to create a roped line that the media needed to stay behind. She then taxed them with keeping other reporters out of the building. All other entrances were either controlled via keycard or the doors were locked. She was grateful they didn’t have any big events scheduled that day—it was going to be hectic enough as it was.

“Is it true?” Nola asked. She was a concierge who had been filched from the Four Seasons and had probably never dreamed she’d be so close to murder. “Is it Leon?”

Lana nodded. “I’m assuming if he were going to make it, the EMTs would already have loaded him in the ambulance.”

As if in answer, the uniformed crew exited the elevator with their gear—and no patient. Lana swallowed hard and wiped her mouth. Wishing Cami hadn’t taken the day off, she huddled with the bell hops, concierge, and valet staff. “Just emergency personnel and guests only through the doors. And be prepared for anything.”

Things at the hotel turned a little chaotic as guests left, and others arrived to check in, only to hear the rumors and cancel, demanding a full refund.

All remaining guests, what few there were left, were shifted to other wings of the hotel and more security was brought in from an outside company to monitor everything. This incident was going to cost them, that was for sure.

When Cami came into the resort an hour later, her eyes flashed with anger as she stalked straight to Lana. “Why didn’t you call me? Sage had to tell me what was going on here. I should have been second on your call list behind 911. Or maybe third behind Alex.”

“He’s got PR working overtime to put together a statement.” Lana brushed the hair back from her face. “I’ve been so busy I didn’t even think to call you. I’m sorry.” Her brain was fried, and it was all she could do to stay upright.

Cami’s eyes narrowed and she started to speak, then shook her head. “I’m going to have serious words with you, but first things first. When did you eat last?”

“I can’t eat,” Lana protested, remembering what had happened to her last meal.

“When?” Cami’s voice was implacable.

Lana looked at her watch and realized it was past lunchtime. “Breakfast. Five hours ago.” She didn’t mention that she had vomited most of that in the hysterical guest’s toilet.

“Food. And don’t argue with me. I’ll have Rosemary send something to my office. You’ll go in there and lie down until the food arrives. You look like death warmed over.” Cami caught herself, pressed her lips together, then sighed. “Bad choice of words. Anyway, go rest—or your husband is going to be down here wondering why I didn’t make sure you were taken care of. Where is he, anyway?”

“Up there dealing with everything. As many policemen as we have here now, though, I’m sure they’ll be kicking him out soon.” She was surprised they hadn’t already.

“Good. I’ll order something for all three of us. Better yet, for all of us, and we’ll have a quick executive meeting.” Cami flicked her hair out of her face. “We have to get a handle on this, like, yesterday.”

Lana chuckled at the thought of being prepared for this in advance—as if anyone could have anticipated it—but she turned and followed her sister’s orders. Sometimes it was nice having a bossy older sister.

Lana ate lunch, held a quick teleconference with Alex, the hotel’s executive staff, and the head of corporate PR. Then, after a few minutes to center herself, Lana donned her coat and walked out to where media was lined up, waiting for information. She walked straight to Alanna. “The press release will go live in about half an hour. You want to beat everyone else, tell me where to email it.”

Alanna grinned and gave her the editor’s email address. “I’ll call him right now.”

Everyone else crowded around, asking questions, sticking microphones in her face. Lana looked out at the sea of people and wondered how they had managed to get up the mountain so fast. “Check our website for the official press release shortly. You’ll find it at,” and she gave them the address, which they anxiously scribbled down.

“How come you’re sending it to her paper first?” a gossip columnist asked.

Lana lifted her brows. “She’s a lot more worried about newsworthiness than sensationalism—always an advantage in my book. Plus, we like to give local businesses a hand. And you’re not local. Read the report online. Thank you. I have no comments about the incident.” She turned and walked back to the hotel.

Blake waited for her at the door. “Are you okay? They looked a little eager.”

She laughed despite the stress that still weighed on her. “Yes, very eager. But I’m uninjured—though a few of them sounded like they would have liked to hurt me when I gave the Chronicle the data first. Let’s get back inside and see what else needs to be done.”

That night when Lana and Blake went back up to their room, she changed into a pair of comfy pajamas and curled up on the bed. She considered turning on the television, but worried she’d see some mention of the murder, and she’d had all she could take of it already.

Blake entered wearing only a pair of pajama bottoms and she enjoyed the view. He was usually so buttoned up in public that it was only in their private moments that she got the treat of his bare chest.

“Like what you see?” he asked when he noticed her gaze.

“Oh, yeah. Come over here so I can cuddle up with you. I’m so exhausted, that’s, sadly, all I’m good for tonight.”

He lay on the bed beside her and pulled her back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and threading their fingers together. “I wondered how you were holding up, but I knew you wouldn’t take a real break until everyone else left.” He kissed her cheek, then the crook of her neck. “Stubborn woman,” he whispered in her ear.

“It was the worst day of my life.” She paused and reconsidered. “No, the second worst.”

“Was the worst the day your dad died? Your mom?” His voice was filled with quiet sympathy.

She brushed her cheek over his shoulder and resettled. “No, it was the day I thought you cheated on me.”

His cheek brushed against the top of her head. “That was the worst day for me too. Losing you was more terrible than anything I’d ever gone through.”

“Why didn’t you come after me?” She had wanted to know all year, ached to ask him, but hadn’t dared—what if he’d told her she wasn’t enough? “I thought I wasn’t important enough to you for you to come after me.”

“No, honey. That’s not it at all. I just... I was so hurt, and I was sure you’d realize you’d over-reacted and come back to me. I wrote you a dozen emails that first three days, but they all sounded lame and needy.” He held her tighter, pressing his cheek to the top of her head. “If I’d had any idea how long it would take to get you back, I wouldn’t have cared how the emails sounded, or that the words weren’t perfect, I would have been on your doorstep pleading with you. Some days it was all I could do to focus on my work and not pick up the phone and beg you to come back.”

Lana felt the tears leak from her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She wasn’t sure if she would have changed her mind even if he had come running right then. The hurt was so huge and she hadn’t been ready to listen.

“You don’t still think I’d do that, do you?” he asked after silence filled the space between them.

She paused, considering his words. She wanted to be honest. “I don’t think so. I don’t want to believe you would ever do that to me. But I don’t think I’m quite there yet.”

“Then why are you here?” His voice didn’t sound hurt, just surprised and curious, but she’d learned from watching him with his parents, that he was good at hiding the hurt.

“Being apart from you is much harder than fighting my fears,” she admitted. “I just wanted to be able to turn to you instead of holding back. Every day I think I’m closer to letting go of my fears, so please, just be patient with me.”

He pressed his lips to her hair. “I’ll be here for as long as you need me to be. For longer. Living without you is misery.”

Since she heartily agreed, she rubbed her face against his chest again, then let her eyes drift shut.

Joel came to the executive office after the morning meeting the next day. He checked the place for bugs, then sat with Blake and Lana.

“This ghost is avoiding the cameras,” he said. “It’s like the person behind this knows where they’re hidden. If there’s anywhere in that tower that isn’t covered by video surveillance, the incidents always happen there.”

Lana watched him. “So you think they have something that tells them where your extra cameras are hidden?”

“Either that, or they had a set of eyes watching me when I installed the new ones—and I took the cameras off line in those halls during installation to ensure they couldn’t monitor my actions that day—which means someone working here is involved somehow. I’m going to have to be far craftier to catch them. Between the flying, disappearing tomahawk and the dead waiter, half our staff is ready to quit and several already have. We have to put an end to this immediately.”

“What do you have in mind?” Blake asked. He took Lana’s hand and squeezed it.

“Starting with more security. Three just to watch that part of the building, and a couple more doing rounds with us. Hopefully it’ll be a temporary stopgap until we catch whoever is responsible. I know some of the local deputies who do this kind of thing on their off hours, and one who’s connected to a security company that hires for short periods. It’ll be pricey, but not as pricey as closing our doors.”

There was no way Lana was going to let the hotel go down the drain when she was at the helm. “Closing down is not going to happen. Even if I have to spend my whole inheritance keeping it open.” Lana straightened her shoulders. “Whatever you need, do it. We’ll figure out the financial side of it later. There is no budget limit, just take care of it. We have a wedding next weekend and Cami and Vince’s day is going to be perfect in every way.” She stood. “I have a few wedding details to tie up. I’ll leave you two to hash it out.”

She retreated to her office where she made herself a cup of mint tea, opened her calendar and to-do list and set to work. She couldn’t do anything about the ghost—that was Joel’s job, so she’d focus on what she did best. Organizing.