Seduced by Sunday
Page 32
“The secret service would be lucky to have me,” she told him without a thread of humor.
Rick answered on the first ring. “I’m going to hand the phone to Lou. He’s Valentino Masini’s head of security. Make sure this guy can back up his bulk, won’t you?”
“You got it. Judy wants you to know we can be there in four and a half hours.”
She smiled. “Have Sam’s pilot on standby.”
“You got it.”
Meg found Lou in her bedroom searching through everything. “Talk to Rick. Give him your name.”
“Beg your pardon, Miss Rosenthal but—”
“It’s OK, Lou,” Val said from the doorway.
Meg eased up her temper. “He’s a retired Marine who specializes in security, Lou. Maybe he can help you find anything that might be lurking.”
Only when Val nodded did Lou take the phone from her and put it to his ear.
The villa was clear . . . and even if they missed something miniscule, Lou had a jamming device that left a high-pitched feed inside the space that affected any outside feeds. Meg insisted her cell phone return to her purse, and once Rick did another check on that and deemed it empty of covert ears, she took it outside to talk to her friends.
Once she brought them up to date on the situation she encouraged Rick to relay to Sam any and every possible check on Sapore di Amore that hadn’t already been done.
“I think I should be there, check for myself where the breach is taking place.”
“Let me see what we can do here without you.”
“I don’t like it,” Judy said from a second line in their home.
“I don’t like it either. Michael hasn’t said much, but he’s worried.”
“Maybe I should talk to him.” As his sister, Judy might be able to help. But Michael and Ryder were strolling along the shore in deep conversation. They were walking yards apart, but she could still see that they weren’t paying attention to anything but each other’s words. “I’ll suggest he call you if he needs to.”
She ended the conversation and walked into the living room, where Val was on his phone. “Everyone, Carol. No one leaves or enters the island without talking to me first. Our employees know about a lockdown drill. Tell them it’s a drill.”
Val ended his conversation with his secretary and placed his phone in the inside pocket of his suit.
Meg felt Val’s hand on her shoulder.
She jumped and he dropped it to his side. “I will find who is behind this.”
“We . . . we will find the photographer.”
“I’m not convinced they’re looking at you, cara.”
“I’m the link in the pictures. If I were a senator’s wife, there’d be hell to pay.” She needed to write stuff down to keep it right in her head. She shuffled through the drawers in the kitchen. There was a pad of paper somewhere. She’d seen it when they checked in.
“What are you looking for?”
She pulled the complimentary pad of paper from the drawer and snagged a pen. “Found it. I’m going to need a computer with Internet access.”
“Margaret—”
“Don’t even think of denying me. We both have something to lose here if we don’t figure out who is doing this crap.”
“What exactly do you have to lose, Margaret?”
She hesitated, not appreciating the position she was in. “Alliance arranges contractual agreements between exclusive clients.”
“In English, cara.”
“We arrange marriages. Temporary marriage contracts between two consenting adults.”
“Like a call service?”
She snapped her gaze to his. “Sex is not part of the contract. Ever. It’s a business agreement like any other. And the outside world believes the marriages are made out of love.”
Val ran a hand over his chin. “And why would someone need this kind of arrangement?”
Meg rolled her eyes. “Look around you, Masini . . . use your imagination.”
His eyes lit up when understanding dawned.
She removed three sheets and wrote on the top of them. Michael, Meg, Masini . . .
“Both pictures had me in them.” She wrote pictures times two on the paper with her name. Picture times one on each of the others.
Val stepped forward and took the pen from her hand and scribbled out the one on his paper and wrote a two. “A lone shot of me was taken.”
Meg scowled. “Anything else you’re not telling me, Masini?”
“Nope, I think that’s it.”
Trusting this man was becoming more and more difficult. She looked at the papers again, grabbed the pen back. “Who is threatened by the actual pictures?”
It wouldn’t hurt her reputation if a shot of her and Val circulated . . . nor would it hurt to be found at Michael’s side. She shoved her page aside and took Michael’s. Of the actual pictures, Michael’s rep wasn’t compromised. She took Masini’s page. “Kissing me isn’t the end of the world, but if word got out that pictures were being taken here, your resort might become painfully empty.”
She jotted her thoughts on the papers and kept going.
Val watched her in silence.
It was obvious that Michael and Masini had the most to lose if more pictures were taken. Could whoever was taking them have more that they were waiting to reveal?
“The paparazzi would have already circulated the pictures if the media took them. So I think we can rule out that angle. Another guest?”
Val paced the room. “I’ll draw a list of names of those here with something to hide. We can rule them out. The others, who knows?”
Rick answered on the first ring. “I’m going to hand the phone to Lou. He’s Valentino Masini’s head of security. Make sure this guy can back up his bulk, won’t you?”
“You got it. Judy wants you to know we can be there in four and a half hours.”
She smiled. “Have Sam’s pilot on standby.”
“You got it.”
Meg found Lou in her bedroom searching through everything. “Talk to Rick. Give him your name.”
“Beg your pardon, Miss Rosenthal but—”
“It’s OK, Lou,” Val said from the doorway.
Meg eased up her temper. “He’s a retired Marine who specializes in security, Lou. Maybe he can help you find anything that might be lurking.”
Only when Val nodded did Lou take the phone from her and put it to his ear.
The villa was clear . . . and even if they missed something miniscule, Lou had a jamming device that left a high-pitched feed inside the space that affected any outside feeds. Meg insisted her cell phone return to her purse, and once Rick did another check on that and deemed it empty of covert ears, she took it outside to talk to her friends.
Once she brought them up to date on the situation she encouraged Rick to relay to Sam any and every possible check on Sapore di Amore that hadn’t already been done.
“I think I should be there, check for myself where the breach is taking place.”
“Let me see what we can do here without you.”
“I don’t like it,” Judy said from a second line in their home.
“I don’t like it either. Michael hasn’t said much, but he’s worried.”
“Maybe I should talk to him.” As his sister, Judy might be able to help. But Michael and Ryder were strolling along the shore in deep conversation. They were walking yards apart, but she could still see that they weren’t paying attention to anything but each other’s words. “I’ll suggest he call you if he needs to.”
She ended the conversation and walked into the living room, where Val was on his phone. “Everyone, Carol. No one leaves or enters the island without talking to me first. Our employees know about a lockdown drill. Tell them it’s a drill.”
Val ended his conversation with his secretary and placed his phone in the inside pocket of his suit.
Meg felt Val’s hand on her shoulder.
She jumped and he dropped it to his side. “I will find who is behind this.”
“We . . . we will find the photographer.”
“I’m not convinced they’re looking at you, cara.”
“I’m the link in the pictures. If I were a senator’s wife, there’d be hell to pay.” She needed to write stuff down to keep it right in her head. She shuffled through the drawers in the kitchen. There was a pad of paper somewhere. She’d seen it when they checked in.
“What are you looking for?”
She pulled the complimentary pad of paper from the drawer and snagged a pen. “Found it. I’m going to need a computer with Internet access.”
“Margaret—”
“Don’t even think of denying me. We both have something to lose here if we don’t figure out who is doing this crap.”
“What exactly do you have to lose, Margaret?”
She hesitated, not appreciating the position she was in. “Alliance arranges contractual agreements between exclusive clients.”
“In English, cara.”
“We arrange marriages. Temporary marriage contracts between two consenting adults.”
“Like a call service?”
She snapped her gaze to his. “Sex is not part of the contract. Ever. It’s a business agreement like any other. And the outside world believes the marriages are made out of love.”
Val ran a hand over his chin. “And why would someone need this kind of arrangement?”
Meg rolled her eyes. “Look around you, Masini . . . use your imagination.”
His eyes lit up when understanding dawned.
She removed three sheets and wrote on the top of them. Michael, Meg, Masini . . .
“Both pictures had me in them.” She wrote pictures times two on the paper with her name. Picture times one on each of the others.
Val stepped forward and took the pen from her hand and scribbled out the one on his paper and wrote a two. “A lone shot of me was taken.”
Meg scowled. “Anything else you’re not telling me, Masini?”
“Nope, I think that’s it.”
Trusting this man was becoming more and more difficult. She looked at the papers again, grabbed the pen back. “Who is threatened by the actual pictures?”
It wouldn’t hurt her reputation if a shot of her and Val circulated . . . nor would it hurt to be found at Michael’s side. She shoved her page aside and took Michael’s. Of the actual pictures, Michael’s rep wasn’t compromised. She took Masini’s page. “Kissing me isn’t the end of the world, but if word got out that pictures were being taken here, your resort might become painfully empty.”
She jotted her thoughts on the papers and kept going.
Val watched her in silence.
It was obvious that Michael and Masini had the most to lose if more pictures were taken. Could whoever was taking them have more that they were waiting to reveal?
“The paparazzi would have already circulated the pictures if the media took them. So I think we can rule out that angle. Another guest?”
Val paced the room. “I’ll draw a list of names of those here with something to hide. We can rule them out. The others, who knows?”
