The look on Austin’s face said he’d rather chew off his own arm, but he gave a curt nod and moved aside.
“Thank you. What’s her name?”
“Nina,” he choked out. “Nina Flint. She seemed just fine a minute ago, and then she…I don’t…”
And here Essie had been worried about Austin’s ability to play the distressed husband. If the security business didn’t pan out, he might have a future in the film industry.
Hope set her bag on the ground. “How long has she been unconscious?”
“I—uh…two, maybe three minutes.”
The paramedics worked together like a well-oiled machine, checking vitals and asking questions to determine what was wrong with their patient. Once they finished examining her, they strapped a respirator mask onto Nina’s face, inserted an IV line into her arm, and loaded her onto the gurney. With Austin holding Nina’s hand, they wheeled her out of the ballroom and into the waiting ambulance parked in front of the Formosa.
As soon as the doors closed behind them, the ambulance lights came on, sirens wailed, and the vehicle sped away from the hotel and toward the nearest hospital.
By the time Essie returned to the ballroom, most of the guests had already left, because someone suffering a medical emergency had a way of sucking the fun out of a party. The rest were heading for the exit, some stopping to give their regards to Vicky, while others were too busy tapping away on their phones. Thankfully, the invited members of the press had also left the ballroom, which meant they only had to contend with the paparazzi lurking around outside like vultures.
Essie felt Jackson’s presence behind her, comforting and all-too familiar. She turned to face him, and as it did every time she looked at him, her heart kicked against her rib cage. Damn, the man looked incredible in a suit. She couldn’t wait to get him out of it. “Any luck spotting Vaughn?”
Jackson shook his head. “He’s in the wind. I should be pissed about that, but right now I’m just glad he’s gone.”
She understood the sentiment. A man like Jackson held mile-high standards for both himself and his crew. It didn’t matter that Vaughn was a highly trained agent with decades of experience. Failure was failure, plain and simple, and it would probably bother him for weeks—maybe months to come.
Once the last of the guests cleared out of the room, Essie crossed to the edge of the dance floor where Vicky stood with Ryan. “Sorry about ruining your party.”
Vicky waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t you dare apologize. It’s the least I can do to help. Besides, it was kind of exciting, even though I can’t tell a soul about it. Which reminds me, what should I say to the press when they ask about what happened?”
“Tell them you’re mourning the loss of a family member and you’d appreciate some privacy during this difficult time. Better yet, have your agent issue the statement and refuse to talk about it.”
“Oh, that’s perfect.” A smile warmed Vicky’s face. “Where are they taking Nina? I almost forgot to ask.”
“Last I heard, she was going to Fort Falco,” Ryan said. “She’ll stay there a few days, maybe longer, depending on how things work out.”
“Target confirmed exiting the building.” Navarre’s voice came over Essie’s earpiece. “I’ve got the shot. Yes or no?”
Essie’s pulse kicked up a notch. It was so damn tempting to give the order to waste Vaughn’s worthless ass. But she couldn’t allow her personal feelings to interfere with the more important goal of keeping Nina safe. It was imperative for Vaughn to deliver the news that the contract had been executed. Not to mention, even though her former mentor deserved it, the police wouldn’t view that as a legal justification for gunning a man down in cold blood.
“Negative. Stand down.” The words tasted like ash on her tongue. “Pack it up and call it a night.”
Chapter 21
As far as burialswent, Nina’s was fairly low-key, which Essie supposed was to be expected for a woman who wasn’t really dead.
For obvious reasons, the Flint family had opted for a private celebration of life instead of a full-blown traditional funeral service. But in case the person who wanted Nina dead was watching from afar, they’d arranged for an internment of the urn containing Nina’s “remains,” which was actually nothing more than the ashes they’d scooped from an outdoor grill.
The midmorning sun was already blazing hot, and the humidity made it feel like a sauna. Still, everybody played their parts to a T, especially Austin, who looked so heartbroken that Essie wondered whether Vicky Hale had been giving him pointers.
The Flint family presented a united front as the urn was lowered into the ground. Eyes dull, Austin stepped forward and dropped a single red rose into the hole. Head bent, his shoulders shook, and the rest of the family closed ranks around him to offer comfort and condolences.
“Should we go up there too?” Jackson whispered from their spot toward the back of the small cluster of friends and family who’d come to the cemetery.
Essie pushed her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. “No. They’re doing fine on their own.”
Larissa and her husband Shane stood at Austin’s side, each with a comforting hand on his back, as the official shoveled dirt on top of the urn. They stayed that way for quite some time, long after the burial was completed and some of the attendees began to leave. At last, they guided him out of the cemetery and into the lot where Larissa’s SUV was parked.
“Ready?” Jackson extended his hand, and Essie threaded her fingers with his.
As they headed for Jackson’s truck, Essie’s phone rang.Unknown caller.Normally, she’d let it dump into voice mail, but curiosity got the better of her. “Hello?”
