Authors: Lisa G Riley
Tags: #romantic thriller, #romantic suspense, #interracial romantic suspense, #interracial bwwm, #interracial sensual, #interracial love story, #interracial fiction, #interracial romantic thriller
“Jae prefers to golf in the afternoon, so
I’ll go in the morning. I hear the course at the Grand Hotel is
pretty awesome.”
Caroline rested her head on his shoulder.
“Does that mean you’d consider a picnic with me tomorrow?”
“Anything you want,” Brian said
magnanimously. “Maybe you’ll consider going golfing with me in the
morning, though,” he said in a lowered tone for her ears only.
She lifted her head and looked at him in
confusion. “But you just said…”
Brian had given his head a quick shake,
causing her to trail off. “I just think Jae deserves some time to
himself, don’t you? He worked this weekend, when usually he’d have
the time off. He must be heartily sick of us by now.”
“Oh! I’m sorry I didn’t think of that,” she
said, keeping her tone low as well. “Of course I’ll go golfing with
you then. But you know I’m not that good at it, primarily because I
just find it so darned boring.”
“You’d be better at it,” Brian argued, “if
you would just focus on the ball and not how the course is such a
perfect forest green or if the sky could be best described as a
pale or a bright cerulean.”
Unconcerned, Caroline said, “I am what I am,
and if that course is as beautiful as I suspect it is, I’ll not be
able to focus on a little boring white ball. In fact,” she began
excitedly as she stared ahead in thought, “I think I’ll bring my
sketch pad, some charcoal and colored pencils along with us.” She
turned back to Brian. “What do you think?”
Brian shook his head in consternation, but
said, “If that’s what you want to do, then you should do it.”
She nodded with satisfaction. “Good. Then
we’ll both have a good time.”
“That’s the purpose of this trip,
sweetheart; a good time.” His attention was caught by something
outside the window. “I think we’ve arrived at Fort Mackinac,” he
said just as the carriage started climbing a steep incline. The
white stone wall was almost blinding in the bright sunlight, he
thought as he listened to the tour guide give the history of the
fort, which had apparently changed hands four times during its two
hundred and twenty year history. Both the British and the Americans
had found the strategic spot on a bluff above a park and the
Straits of Mackinac irresistible. Brian was looking forward to
seeing the reenactments with cannon blasts and rifle fire. He could
already see the soldiers marching.
“I can see the excitement in your eyes,”
Caroline teased as they disembarked. “You’re practically chomping
at the bit.”
Brian smiled. “I confess, I am really
looking forward to it.”
“So since we’re going to visit the fort, we
should leave the tour here, and after the visit, board another
carriage from the tour company, right?”
“Yes, and if there’s room, we can climb on
board; if not, we can either walk back to the hotel or call for a
taxi.”
“Which will be horse-drawn, of course,”
Caroline posited.
“WE should have our picnic down there
tomorrow,” Brian said later as they looked down at Marquette Park
from their position at the fort. “It’s stunning.”
“Isn’t it?” Caroline agreed wholeheartedly
as she too stared down at the park. Ferries and freights chugged
along proficiently on the lake, which fronted a lush green park. To
her right were white Victorian homes and other buildings peeking
out between the abundance of tall trees and shrubbery. “There’s a
statue,” she called out as she looked through the binoculars they’d
brought. “I’m guessing it’s in homage to the park’s namesake,
Father Marquette.” Once again, her fingers itched for a sketchpad,
but her camera would do just as well, she thought. “Want to take
another look, darling?” she asked Brian and gave him the
binoculars.
Brian peered through the binoculars, and
said to Jae who had his own set, “Wonder if we can count on our
friend Mr. Brickman to live up to predictability.”
Jae shrugged. “One can only hope, sir, but
the odds are on our side, I think. According to Mr. Winthrop, he’s
almost sure to try something; his ego will not allow him not to --
if he’s back in Chicago, that is. Mr. Winthrop is hardly ever wrong
about these things.”
“I know,” Brian said. “Let’s just hope that
the ‘something’ Brickman tries is the ‘something’ we want.”
***
BRICKMAN stood across the street and stared
at the Singleton-Keenan home. Jealousy coursed through him like
lava, leaving a scorching heat in its wake. It was a beautiful
home, he thought angrily, one that he might have chosen for himself
had he not been forced to travel the world like some vagabond,
never able to settle in one place for more than a few months. The
three-story home was elegant, at least a hundred years old and
quietly expensive. He wanted to blow it and everything and everyone
in it to kingdom come. He said nothing, just stood there and let
the anger and jealousy consume him.
“We’re ready when you are, Alex,” Jonathan
said quietly from beside him. “Your guy in the security firm should
be settled in at his desk by now.”
“I know that,” Brickman responded and his
anger was all the more palpable for the softness of his voice. “I’m
the one paying the man.” He’d come up with the brilliant idea to
infiltrate the security firm the Keenans were using, knowing that
everyone had a price. He’d found his sellout in one Monty Graham
who was willing to switch his shift at Jack Winthrop’s Topnotch
Security and ignore the silent alarm from the Keenan household when
Brickman and his team moved in, all for the less-than-princely sum
of five thousand dollars. The man had also given him the house’s
layout and a schematic of the hotspots for cameras and motion
sensors.
“Let’s go,” he ordered, his voice now
vibrating with anticipation. He could not wait to see the looks of
complete surprise on the house’s inhabitants once they were
confronted with him. He’d kill the men and the dog and take the
girl. It was as simple as that. As much as he’d like to linger over
things, it would have to be short and sweet.
He and his team were in the house in under
three minutes. He and his brother took the upstairs while the other
two men took care of the downstairs. A crack team, their movements
were economical and methodic. Once upstairs, Brickman headed for
the largest bedroom at the end of the hall. “Wait here,” he
whispered to Jonathan. “This little treat is all mine,” he purred,
palming his gun. Eagerness hummed along his spine like a mad, wild
thing and it was all he could do to force himself to turn the
doorknob slowly. “Fuck it,” he said and slammed the door in against
the wall. He wanted to spray the room with bullets, but he wanted
Caroline more, so he turned on the light, expecting to see them
sitting up in panic.
What he saw infuriated him. The neatly made
four-poster came as a complete shock. He stormed over to the bed
and livid, shot a hole through a stack of decorative pillows just
for the hell of it. Turning, he stalked to the bureau, and swinging
his arms madly, knocked everything in his path off the top of it.
He turned to the vanity and did the same. Making his way to a
bedside table, he pushed it so that it and everything on it crashed
to the floor. He was mute with rage as he created his destruction,
not making a sound, only panting through gritted teeth.
“Alex,” Jonathan said from the doorway, and
took an involuntary step back when the other man turned to look at
him. There was an insane light in his eyes, shining out from a face
rapidly turning purple. For a brief moment, Alex’s face was covered
in confusion. Hesitantly, Jonathan walked into the room and over to
his brother. He reached out and took the gun. “Ah…I see you know
that they’re not here. I’ve checked the other rooms on this floor
and they’re empty. What do you want to do now?”
Alex looked at him, and as if he hadn’t just
been caught trashing a room like a rock star hyped up on cocaine,
lifted an imperious brow and said, “How often must I tell you not
to question me?”
Jonathan handed him his gun and nonplussed
tried to explain as his brother walked away from him. “I’m sorry. I
just…that is --”
“Never mind,” Brickman interrupted from the
other side of the bed. He was smiling now. “Gather the men,
Jonathan. And tell them we’ve got more planning to do.” He turned
to face his brother and Jonathan could see that he was waving a
brochure from something called the Grand Hotel in his hand.
Whistling now, Brickman walked towards the
door. “Tell the boys they can take anything they like -- anything
that’s small and portable and if it isn’t and they want it, they
have my permission to destroy it.”
Chapter Ten
“So, I’m apparently going to Mackinac
Island,” Essence whispered into the phone to Coop.
Coop sat up quickly in bed, his cellular
phone held tightly in his hand. “Paragon? How did you get this
number? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said.
There was something in her voice that said
otherwise, and it made him sit up straighter in bed. “Something
made you call before you were scheduled to do so. What is it?”
“It’s nothing special, but like I told you,
I’m going to Mackinac Island. My friend and I are leaving tomorrow.
All Rafe would tell me is that he’s being sent with a cousin on
family business. This is to be Rafe’s initiation, I guess.”
“They’re bringing Rafael into the business?”
Coop asked incredulously. “We had no inkling of this.”
“Yes, well, he doesn’t want it, but he feels
he has no choice. Now listen because I’m going to have to hang up
soon. From what I could gather from snatches of conversation I
overheard between Miguel and this cousin, Tomás, the cousin we’re
going with, they’re going to keep an eye on Brickman. It seems he
suddenly changed his schedule and told them he’d be here at least a
week later than he originally planned.”
“And Brickman’s on Mackinac?”
“Yes, that’s my assumption. If he’s not
already there, he will be soon.”
“Well, Jesus, this changes everything.”
“I’ll say,” Essence muttered. “I’m no more
knowledgeable now about the ends and outs of the cartel than I was
before I came here. I’ve got nothing for you.”
“So Miguel isn’t going, but Tomás is.”
“Yes,” she said impatiently. “Should I go,
or make up some excuse?”
“Depends,” Coop said thoughtfully. “What do
you know about Tomás?”
“I know he stares at me like no man should
ever stare at a woman unless she’s given him permission to do
so.”
“Do you think he’ll try anything?”
“Of course he will. I’m looking forward to
it,” she said with menacing anticipation.
Coop smiled unwittingly, “That’s my girl,”
he said proudly. “Just don’t hurt him too badly, at least not until
you’ve gotten useful information from him. Wait. I guess I should
ask you if you think he has any useful information to share.”
“He might, yes. From what I’ve observed
since I’ve been here, Miguel is grooming him as his successor.”
“All right, then. Go to Mackinac.”
“Duh. I’m on my way,” she snapped and hung
up.
Coop held the phone away from his ear
thinking he really would have to teach her how to be a goddamned
subordinate. He called Ben and after the other man became fully
awake, explained the situation.
“No, I don’t know why Brickman’s going to
Mackinac, but I think we can both pretty well guess that that’s
probably where Caroline Singleton is at the moment,” he said after
Ben had asked. “I’m going to hang up now. I’ve got to call the
airline to cancel my reservations for Mexico and then figure out
the quickest way to get to Mackinac.”
***
“DID you read this, Alex? One night in that
Masco Cottage place costs a whopping three thousand dollars…well,
not quite
three thousand, but close enough! At any rate, I’m
betting it’s much more comfortable than what we were able to
get.”
Brickman ignored his brother, knowing that
Jonathan was needling him, trying to get a rise out of him. It was
a new habit he’d picked up since Italy. He’d deal with it later, as
he had bigger issues on his mind. Nothing seemed to be working the
way he needed it to. First he’d been unable to find a room, a
house, a cottage or any other kind of lodging available on Mackinac
Island. Everyone was booked solid for the season already, so he’d
had to settle for Mackinaw City. They’d ended up having to book at
the Best Western there, which…he shook his head, not even wanting
to think about it. It was less than a twenty minute ferry ride from
Mackinaw City to the island, but that was twenty minutes too long.
Caroline Singleton was on the island, so that’s where he needed to
be: on. the. island.
To further complicate matters, when he’d
called Miguel Guerrera to push back his arrival in Mexico, the
other man had sounded suspicious and had insisted upon sending two
of his nephews and their entourages, so Brickman’s man had had to
book three other rooms. Therefore, they would take up an entire
floor, which would likely draw unwanted attention. There’d been no
other choice, his man had told him. A wedding had been cancelled at
the last minute, which was the only reason the rooms were
available, and the available rooms were all on the same floor.
And if all of that weren’t bad enough, not
only were they leaving a day later than he’d wanted, but he was
also stuck in a car for a six-hour drive with his brother and Ida,
who moaned and groaned every time the car went over even the
smallest of bumps in the road. But Brickman told himself all would
be well in the end. Things would fall into place and he’d finally
get what he’d been after for two years. He had to. He’d waited far
too long and worked far too hard
not
to get what he
deserved.
***
SITTING on the bed next to Caroline’s hip,
Brian gently shook her shoulder. “Wake up, baby,” he whispered.
She’d been asleep for a little more than twelve hours, having gone
to bed the night before ahead of the dinner they’d planned because
she’d been too tired. She had been sleeping more since they’d
arrived on the island four days before, but they’d both put it down
to the fresh air and them being just a bit more active than they
were at home. He knew she needed her rest, but she also needed to
eat. It was time for breakfast, and he didn’t want her to miss two
meals in a row. He shook her shoulder again. “Come on, sweetheart.
Wake up.”