He closed the case, pocketed it, and hurried back to his car.
“Look sharp, he’s coming,” Florio ordered. He’d told his guy who’d been waiting at the house to take the lead. With it growing dark, it’d be harder for Donohue to spot them. After thirty circuitous minutes, Donohue stopped at a hotel and pulled into their parking garage. Just as Florio was getting ready to send someone in to see what they could find out, Donohue reappeared with two suitcases, which he tossed into the backseat of his car and took off again.
“Now what?” one of his guys asked nearly an hour later after they’d followed him to another hotel, where he’d parked and gone inside.
“Now, we fucking wait, that’s what. Boss wants them both, but especially the cop.”
252 Tymber
Dalton
Libbie still couldn’t believe how much life had changed for her in the past few hours. She honestly had never considered the possibility that her nausea was from being pregnant. Fibro was the gold standard of mystery symptoms, and sometimes they even changed from week to week. But while waiting for Allan to return, they’d gone ahead and used the third test kit.
Positive.
Ben had room service brought up for lunch for them, and was getting ready to order it again for dinner when they heard a knock on the door. Ben silently walked up to the door and looked through the viewfinder before opening it.
Allan rushed in, dumping the two suitcases on the floor before grabbing Libbie and pulling her into his arms.
“There’s my girl.”
“You okay?”
He grinned. “I’m going to be a dad. I’m better than okay.” He looked at Ben. “I had to struggle to keep the shit-eating grin off my face all day.”
“No one followed you?”
“No way. And I got this.” He pulled a black velvet case out of his jacket and showed it to Ben. “Mom’s.”
Ben frowned. “Is that from your house? You went by your house?”
Allan’s smile faltered. “Yeah. What’s the big deal? You went by my house this morning.”
“Dude.” He shook his head. “That was risky. Twice in one day we go there, that’s fucking risky!”
“No one followed me. Now, can we do this right, or are you going to bust my balls all night?”
“What’s going on?” Libbie finally asked, confused by their behavior.
Ben joined Allan. Allan opened the case and withdrew a ring. Ben held her left hand steady while Allan slipped it on her finger. “This It’s a Sweet Life 253
was our mom’s engagement ring,” Allan said. “If it creeps you out, then we’ll get you something else, but—”
“I love it.” It was a simple setting holding a small stone, but to her it could just as easily have been the Hope Diamond.
Ben kissed her hand. “You still want to marry us?”
She nodded. “Yes. Absolutely.”
They got their dinner ordered, and it was all Libbie could do not to rip Allan’s clothes off him during the wait. Once the food arrived and they ate, Libbie didn’t waste any time.
And Allan, unlike Ben, didn’t need a reminder that condoms were unnecessary.
For the first night in months, she fell asleep with a smile on her face.
254 Tymber
Dalton
Chapter Twenty-Three
Florio jumped when the man walked up to his car and tapped on the window a little after one that morning. He rolled it down. “What?”
“Head boss sent this.” He handed Florio an envelope and walked away.
Florio ripped it open. Inside, an orange sticky note, hand-printed in black ink.
WHATEVER IT TAKES. BRING PROOF. BOTH.
He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. He didn’t like the idea of killing. He’d never had to do it before, either. Until last month, he’d been running numbers and doing courier work down in Hialeah, reporting to Enrique’s brother.
He always knew who was really in charge of the operation, but he’d never met Bianco personally until the other day.
Frankly, he’d hoped he never would.
He knew damn well what kind of “proof” he was being ordered to get. The thought of killing someone and taking their head wasn’t on his top-ten list of favorite things.
He also knew it meant his head if he didn’t do it.
He’d ordered in a couple of reinforcements and stationed them in cars on various levels in the parking garage. They would stay on Donohue until he led them to the cop.
He was hoping they’d both appear in the morning, but he didn’t get his hopes up.
In the morning, he sent a guy into the hotel’s restaurant, where he could sit with a clear view of the elevators and front desk. His other guys had the garage covered. Wherever one or both of them came out, It’s a Sweet Life 255
he’d know about it.
At 8:11, his lobby guy spoke into his radio. “Donohue and a woman, coming out of the elevators in the lobby.”
Florio felt a second wave of energy flow through him. “Stay on him.”
Then one of his guys, watching the car in the garage, spoke up.
“Then who da fuck’s getting in Donohue’s car?”
Florio blinked, trying to make sense of it in his sleep-deprived state. “Fuck! They’re both here. Don’t lose either of them!”
Two of his guys followed the parking garage Donohue. He got in his car and headed out, Florio’s guys on his tail.
“What about the other one? Which one is which? They fucking look alike.”
He was betting the one who’d just left was the attorney. “Stay on the guy in the lobby.”
“Got it.”
Ten minutes later, the other Donohue and the woman left the lobby, luggage in hand, and headed to the parking garage, too. They got into an older Toyota Corolla with a Hernando County tag on the back, Donohue driving, and headed out of the garage.
“Stay on him,” Florio said. He grabbed a throwaway cell and dialed a number he’d memorized.
A man answered. “Yeah?”
He read off the plate number and hung up. Five minutes later, the same man called back with a name—LacieBelle Addams. More importantly, he now had an address in Brooksville.
Florio jotted the info down and hung up as he pulled out of the parking lot and followed his men.
“Stay with them,” he told everyone. “You fucking lose them, and I’ll kill you myself.”
256 Tymber
Dalton
Allan headed toward his office. He didn’t bother trying to be evasive. Ben’s plan hinged upon anyone following Allan to take off after him, allowing Ben to get Libbie safely out of the hotel and on the road to Brooksville without detection.
As he drove, he caught sight of a couple of cars who kept an unusually consistent distance between him and them.
“That’s it, assholes. Follow me,” he muttered at his rearview mirror.
Libbie kept glancing behind them but had to admit she had no clue what she was looking for. “I can’t tell if anyone’s behind us or not.”
Ben looked grim. “Two, at least. Possibly a third.”
She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop.” He squeezed her knee before returning his hand to the wheel. “Quit apologizing.” He handed her his cell phone. “Change of plans. Call Allan for me.” He rattled off the number for her and she dialed it and hit send before returning the phone to him.