Vegas Vacation (7 page)

“What are you doing? Are you stupid?” he yelled, pulling the bottle away from her mouth. “Or do you have a death wish? What if that's poisoned?”

She spat the water into the flower vase on the side. “It would be poison to him. I can taste nuts.”

 

****

 

Tamlyn glanced at Martin as they waited for the valet to bring the car around. His words spun around her mind, making her feel horrible. “Martin? Am I really that bad?”

“Honestly? Yes, you are. You say you want to be treated like an adult, but then you throw a tantrum when you don't get your own way.”

“So, what do I do?”

Martin took a deep breath. “Don't argue all the time. If someone says jump, then jump. You might be surprised by the result.”

“So if Dad tells me to go home, then I go home?”

He tilted his head. “Yeah. But not until this investigation is over.”

“And if he says go jump under a train, then I go jump under a train?”

Martin laughed. “I can't see him doing that, because someone would have to jump after you.”

She took a deep breath. “To be honest, what you said made me think, and I'm not that nice, am I? And I was pretty horrid to you. I'm sorry.”

“How about we start again?” He stuck out a hand. “Hi, I'm Martin, and I'll be your bodyguard for the duration of your stay.”

Tamlyn took his hand, warmth running though her. “Hi, I'm Tamlyn, and I'm a spoiled brat of an heiress who wants to change for the better.”

He waved the bottled water at her. “Let's drop this off at the lab.”

“You think it's the water?”

“I think it's a good possibility. Especially since the bottle you opened tasted odd. Do you still have that?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It's here.” The car came, and she got in. Glancing in the mirror as she shut the door, she saw a huge limousine pull in behind them. It must be someone important. The driver got out and moved to open the back door of the car. Her eyes widened as she recognized the person disembarking.

No
. Her heart stopped as someone else got out. She raised a hand to shield her face.

“Something wrong?”

“No. Sun's in my eyes.” She lied and for the first time in a long time felt a twinge of guilt.

Tamlyn twisted back to Martin. If he was right and it was murder, then being with her dad might be dangerous. Right?

She even lied to herself... “Protective custody means staying with you, doesn't it?”

“Not letting you out of my sight.” Martin pulled away from the front of the hotel. “I even removed that pile of books of yours from the bathroom.”

Not even his joke could raise a smile.

Tamlyn gazed out of the window as he drove. What bothered her was simply the thought of never seeing Martin again.

 

****

 

The train stations turned out to be casinos on each of the four sides of the city and had nothing to do with trains at all. Tamlyn took photos and picked up chips from each of them. By the time they'd done the fourth, she felt a lot better. “Can we find someplace to eat, Martin? I need a drink, if nothing else.”

He checked his watch. “Sure, we've got a few minutes before the lab results are due. What do you want?”

“Take me to a supermarket. I fancy a picnic. You can phone the lab while I shop.”

He frowned. “I know the perfect place. I'll stand outside and make the call, but you'll be in my field of vision the entire time.”

She nodded, not admitting she actually felt safe with him around. “That's fine.”

Fifteen minutes later, Tamlyn came out of the tiny grocery store and gazed in dismay at the weather. So much for the sunshine. Thick clouds piled up in the sky, dark black and ominous.

Martin smile lit the darkness. “All done?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Could almost feel you watching me the whole time.”

“That's all part of the service.” His hand touched her back again as he guided her to the car.

She climbed in as the first drops of rain fell. She put the bags by her feet as he shut her door and ran around the other side. “Did you get hold of the lab?”

Martin nodded, starting the car. “The bottles were laced with peanut essence. There is no doubt someone murdered him.”

“Why? To make me go home?”

“Or to get him out of the way so they could get to you.”

She tapped at the raindrops on the other side of the glass. “What good would that do? The title dies with Dad.”

“Are there no other relations that you know of? No one waiting in the wings to inherit?”

She shook her head. “Just me. So where are we going?”

Martin drove along the road, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Mount Charleston, a half hour drive. Nice place to hike and lovely views of the city and the desert. Not many people, except the rangers. And a great place for me to think about the next step.”

 

 

 

 

8

 

Tamlyn laughed as Martin parked the car in the pouring rain. “Loving the views already. Can't wait for the hike.”

He wrinkled his nose at her. “We can find a restaurant if you prefer.”

“Nah. We had picnics in the car all the time as a kid. Kind of had to, it rains a lot in England.”

“So I've heard. Cold, wet, damp, and rains all the time.”

She giggled. “Actually we have three types of weather in England. It's either raining, about to rain, or just finished raining.”

Martin turned the engine off, leaving the air con on to stop the windows misting up. “You're silly.”

“And don't you forget it.” She grinned at him.

“I'll say grace first.” He took hold of her hand, his gentle touch sending shards of warmth through her. For an instant, she wished he'd hold her hand because he wanted to, not simply because that's the way he always prayed the blessing.

They ate watching the rain beat down on the windscreen.

Lightning lit the sky as Martin looked at Tamlyn. “This is not your typical summer's day.”

Thunder echoed across the mountainside above them. “Lovely weather for ducks, though.”

Martin raised a hand to her face, wiping something off the corner of her mouth. “You made a mess with the mayo.”

“Did I?”

He nodded, holding her gaze. “Has anyone told you how attractive you are?”

Tamlyn did a double take.
He said what?
“Not when I'm covered in mayo, they haven't.”

“Especially when you're covered in mayo.” He winked at her.

Tamlyn shook her head. “Tease. You really do know how to say the most romantic things. Not. And while we're on the subject, you're not bad looking yourself.” She shifted sideways so she could lean against the window and study him.

Lightning flashed again, the thunder following almost immediately.

Martin glanced out of the window. “This will definitely be something to tell the grandkids,” he said, changing the subject. “A car picnic in a thunderstorm.”

“Talk about getting ahead of yourself.” Tamlyn laughed. “You're working. We're not even going out, never mind engaged or married, and you're talking about grandchildren?”

He shrugged. “I never said
our
grandkids.”

“So these hypothetical grandkids of yours. They have to come from somewhere. How many kids do you want? Assuming you find a woman prepared to put up with you.”

“Hypothetically speaking? Four, at least.” He grabbed the box of fresh fruit pieces from the dash and fed her a strawberry. “Maybe six.”

“Six?” she managed around the fruit. “Is that women or kids?”

“Kids. Hmmm, let's see. Maybe three of each, with two years in between them.”

“You got it all planned, mister.” Tamlyn shoved a strawberry in his mouth to shut him up. “And that's twelve years in total. You'd better go find a woman and start now.”

He chewed and swallowed as lightning flashed again. “Not gonna happen. I'm not husband material.”

Tamlyn shook her head. “You're wrong.”

He studied her. “I am?”

She nodded. “So you got a few scars. So what? It doesn't stop you from walking and talking and thinking. Or from being pretty good-looking.”

His handsome features creased into a trademark Martin frown. “It stops me from running. I have to walk with a cane.”

“I beg to differ.” She picked up a piece of pineapple. “You manage both running and walking without it pretty well. You should do it more often.”

He raised an eyebrow. His blue eyes glittered. “I'm sorry?”

“Yesterday, you
ran
into my room with no cane anywhere to be seen. Makes me wonder if you're simply using it as a crutch because you're scared of something.”

He twisted back in his seat, looking out of the window. “Me, scared of what?”

“I have no idea. Besides, it could be worse. The scars could be on your face or all over.”

“I guess.”

“As it is, no one can see them or even know they're there.” She took another piece of pineapple. “And if you want my opinion, your ex-girlfriend's a numpty to let you go.”

“A numpty? That doesn't sound like a good thing.” He turned towards her again.

“It isn't. A numpty is a prat, or a total idiot. You're a nice guy. You don't deserve to be treated like that.” She paused. “It's personality, not looks, that counts in my book. Of course looks help, but you got both.”

A smile filled his face. “You know as picnics go, this is, by far, the best I've ever had.”

Tamlyn noticed the inevitable change of subject and dropped it. “It's thundering. Again.”

“Yeah, but it's my first picnic with you.”

Tamlyn pulled a face, running her tongue over her front teeth. “I hate it when that happens. Got something stuck in the plate.”

Martin frowned. “You've what?”

She grinned. “Excuse me a moment.” She pulled down the sunshield and removed her front tooth. “I broke it when I was twenty-one. And as I am terrified of dentists, having a crown or an implant wasn't an option. The plate means I never burn the roof of my mouth.” She shot him a gap-tooth smile. “And no one knows.”

“Except me.”

“Well, yeah.” She removed the bit of pineapple from around the top of the tooth and put the plate back in. “I think I can trust you not to give away my secret.”

He nodded. “You know, it wouldn't hurt to talk to your father. Try explaining nicely that you want to make your own decisions.”

“Maybe I tell him I want to join a convent.”

Martin laughed. “That would be one way of tackling your faith issues, but there are easier ones.” He pulled up his jacket collar. “I'm gonna head to the restroom before we drive back.”

Tamlyn nodded. “I'll wait here.”

“I don't think so.”

She shook her head. “There are some places I ain't going, and standing outside the men's room is one of them. Lock me in the car and I promise not to go anywhere.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Cuff me to the wheel if it'll make you feel better.” She held out her wrists.

“It's fine. Don't move.”

“I promise.” She leaned back into the seat as Martin got out of the car. She closed her eyes imagining how the joining-a-convent conversation would go with her father. She'd got to the part where he threw a blue fit and went up in smoke when Martin returned.

He sat down and rubbed the back of his neck.

“You OK? What's up with your neck?”

“It's sore. I must have pulled it. We should head back.”

Her phone rang and she pulled it out of her pocket. “Excuse me. Hello? That's because we're not there, Dad, not sure how long we'll be. OK, bye.” She hung up. “He wants me back at the hotel. I don't want to go.”

“Remember what I said earlier about co-operating with the police and you being a possible suspect even though you've not been charged? Starting to ring any bells?”

She caught her breath and sighed. “OK.” Acting like an adult, and letting her father walk all over her, was the last thing she wanted. What if he was trying to marry her off again? If she had to marry anyone she'd rather marry Martin.

Where'd that come from?

On reflection though, marrying Martin was a good idea, even if he'd never go for it. He'd raise his eyebrow, stare at her and say ‘
Tamlyn, you're running away from the issue and using me to get your father off your back
.'

The car swerved, breaking into her chain of thought.

“What are you doing?” She turned in her seat.

Martin collapsed face down onto the wheel.

“Martin?”

The car veered across the lane of traffic, and Tamlyn grabbed the wheel, trying to pull them to the side of the road. Screeching metal turned into a sickening thud as they hit the crash barrier.

She screamed, throwing her arms up to protect herself as the car flew into the air and rolled. It came to an abrupt halt as it hit the ground, tossing her against the seatbelt. Her head smacked into the window and she knew no more.

 

 

 

 

 

9

 

Tamlyn opened her eyes, every part of her body hurting. “Martin?”

A hand closed over her arm. “Tammy, it's OK, I'm here.” She knew that voice, and it wasn't Martin. For one thing, he didn't call her Tammy, and for another the accent was wrong.

She turned her head, wincing. “Dad?”

Lord Bradshaw nodded. “Yes, Tammy. How are you feeling?”

She took a deep breath. That hurt, too. “Like the car crashed.”

“You were lucky you weren't badly hurt. Just cuts and bruises. The doctor says you can leave here as soon as he's checked you over again. Although your police guard seems to have other ideas. Anyone would think you're killing off all your protection officers.”