He nodded, and we trudged up a rocky hill to the hotel parking lot.
I waited while he called the local police. I’d already planned to put in a call to my friend who was the Chief of Police, the same one I’d offered to call when Loren was almost robbed, to make sure this perp was really going to be taken into custody. Maybe I’d spent too much time watching the fallout from geopolitical turmoil, but far too often the people in charge were working directly with the criminals they were arresting, and the arrest was just a show to appease the public.
Cynical. Yeah. I was. But it paid off.
Loren came rushing over. “What happened?”
I stepped in front of her, blocking her from the perp and her mother’s security guard. “Go back to the rehearsal.” She peeked around me, gaping at the perp, just as the police car pulled into the parking lot. I put my hand on her arm. “Let’s go.”
She let me escort her back to the rehearsal area without protesting. “Tell me now.”
“There was a man in the woods.”
“What was he doing?”
“I don’t know. But he had on a black ski mask, and he was texting, and he had a bag full of suspicious stuff”
“Is that a crime now?” she asked.
I had no idea why she was so cavalier about this. “If you’re on private property, and you’re not supposed to be here, then you bet your ass, it is.”
“Why’d you want my mom’s bodyguard?”
“Because he’s ex secret service,” I said.
“How’d you know?”
What the hell was up with the rapid fire round of questions? “We’ll talk about it later.” We had to scramble to get back to the rest of the crowd, and of course Loren’s mother got right in her face and had to interrogate her.
I knew I’d be next, so I excused myself to keep an eye on the rest of the wedding party. I didn’t see anyone else lurking around the perimeter, but I did notice one person acting oddy.
The groom.
He kept looking away from the gathering, and his eyes scanned the horizon. I don’t know what he thought was going to happen on the ocean, but there was nothing there except for a small fishing boat, and according to the ex-secret service officer, they’d already checked the fisherman out. Apparently the security team for Loren’s dad even had permission to fly a drone over the premises to keep security tight.
I didn’t have a fucking clue how a groom should act, but one of my buddies had gotten married when we were younger. I’d been his best man. He’d been so obsessed with the woman who was about to be his wife that we’d had to take him home during the bachelor party. Once he got drunk, all he could do was blather on about how amazing she was. Which was annoying, but it was how it should be. The disinterest I picked up from Douglas was not the norm, and it made him stand out.
He also kept scratching his nose. Over and over again. Some of those tics that we’d all heard about on true crime shows might not be reliable indicators of someone’s innocence or guilt, but they were a good starting place. And this fucking guy was full of them. He’d look away, scratch his nose, glance at his phone, shift his weight. He was waiting for something. And I had a feeling it wasn’t just the upcoming wedding.
I was going to keep an eye on this asshole. Especially with Loren around. She’d already proven that she didn’t have the best self-preservation instincts. And until I could improve that, I was going to watch out for her.
Chapter Sixteen
Loren
I didn’t have time to press Jackson about what happened in the woods. The wedding party was leaving the rehearsal area, and making their way to the dinner.
I’d attended a few rehearsal dinners, but this one was stunning. The weather was balmy enough that my cousin had demanded that it be moved outside, and long rows of wooden tables had been set up.
In the center of the tables, jars of yellow daisies sat on top of a burlap runner. Strands of small white lights stretched across the space, and soft notes from a violin floated through the air. Against the backdrop of the rugged mountains, it could have been ripped from the pages of a wedding magazine.
And maybe it had. I was pretty sure someone told me her wedding planner was quite famous in her field.
I’d already explained to Jackson why I loved weddings, but that was more about the atmosphere created by the people involved. Not just the bride and groom, but the family members who were thrilled to be there to support them. Most weddings had aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers and sisters who’d traveled to be there, and who were eager to share in the couples’ big day. The wedding also served as a family reunion of sorts, giving even the most reluctant guest a chance to catch up with each other.
My family was so busy that I hadn’t seen all of them in one place in almost two years. They were a lot of fun to be around. The only really intolerable guest was my aunt. And maybe the bride. Just a little.
I got my camera focused and started snapping photos. I took candid shots, one of my cousin, pulling out a chair for our grandmother. I took one of my mother, nudging my father to put his napkin in his lap, although he’d attended just as many formal dinners as she had. I snapped a photo or two of every guest, laughing, talking, or reading for the mason jars filled with sparkling water.
Now it was time for the bride and groom, who were seated together at a round table set up for just the two of them, right next to the main tables.
My cousin was radiant in her pastel pink party dress, and her fiance was smiling at her. I got about ten shots of them before she waved me over. “Loren! Go sit down. And get your hot boyfriend. He’s over there in the corner glaring at everyone.”
Sure enough, Jackson was standing with his shoulders back, and his hands clasped in front of him. He might as well have been holding a neon light that said, ‘I’ll kick your ass.’ And Marie was right about one thing. He was hot. I couldn’t wait to rip that suit off of his body and finish what I’d started earlier in our hotel room.
“You sure you don’t want me taking more photos?” I asked.
“We’re sure,” Douglas said, but his tone was a little harsher than I’d have expected from him.
Snapping the cap back on my lens, I shrugged. “Fine with me. I’m ready to eat some of this delicious food.”
I marched straight over to Jackson. “Come on, my sexy pretend boyfriend. You could start a forest fire with that glare.”
“I’d feel better if you let me stand here and watch what’s going on,” he said.
I bumped him with my hip. “Sorry, but you agreed to be my boyfriend for this trip. That means sitting at the table, not standing over here like a statute while wishing for several big guns to brandish at the guests.”
“I prefer it over here,” he said.
“That’s obvious.” I looked up at him and licked my lips. “Please? I’ll make it up to you.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m coming. You don’t have to make me any promises.”
I hooked my arm through his. “Well, I can promise that this food is going to be amazing. Come on.”
At the table, Jackson and I were seated by my grandmother and grandfather.