another.
“You can push that cart.” The bigger, brown-haired man gestured to another cart full of chairs off to the side. “Into the pool house. Danny’s inside. Big guy, red hair. You can’t miss him. He’ll show you where to put it.”
Charlie grunted acknowledgement and did as he’d been instructed. The pool house was bigger than his parent’s three-bedroom home. The floors were shiny cream tile. The cart’s rubber wheels made little sound as he pushed it down the short hallway to a room that looked like a small ballroom.
He spotted Danny immediately. “Big guy” had been an understatement. He was at least six-four with biceps as round as soccer balls.
Danny spotted him, too, and strode toward him. “Who are you?” It wasn’t a casual question.
“Chuck. They told me to help you unload.”
Danny’s green eyes narrowed. “We’re not going to steal anything.”
Charlie shrugged. “I go where I’m told to go.”
Danny’s jaw muscles clenched. “Put that cart with the others. And for God’s sake, don’t run it into the columns.”
Charlie bit back a smile. “Yes, sir.”
Danny walked away cursing under his breath.
As Charlie went back and forth to the truck, he studied the layout of the house and grounds. There was the four-leaf clover pool Juliana had described. The property stretched to the ocean, where a small yacht was moored at the dock. He didn’t know if that entrance to the estate was guarded like the front was, not that he planned to wait until nightfall to make an assault from the ocean. No, this wedding frenzy was the perfect cover to get in and out of the grounds. But he needed to get into the house. He was confident the sculpture wasn’t in the pool house.
He watched for guards as he worked. He’d seen two more patrol the grounds. They could have been mistaken for businessmen in their lightweight suits, except for the slight bulges where they wore their guns and the cold look in their eyes. Charlie knew about guns. It had been part of his P.I. training. He knew how to fire one and practiced regularly with an actor friend, although he’d yet to purchase one of his own. He hadn’t run into a situation where he’d needed to use one.
When the truck was emptied, Charlie wandered back to his car frustrated. He still hadn’t gotten into the house. Boss man Danny ran a tight ship, and the few times he hadn’t been close by, one of the guards had been patrolling. Charlie had listened to the Paradise Rentals workers, but hadn’t learned much about the wedding. He needed details.
His shirt, the hair at his temples, and the back of his neck were damp with sweat. As he wiped his face and neck with a towel and gulped down water, another truck and a car full of Paradise Rental workers pulled in. Danny hadn’t said anything about more chairs. In fact, he’d said they had five hundred, which to Charlie meant that was all of them. And they’d unloaded tables, too. What more could be coming?
He debated helping again as he stood under the relative shade of a palm tree, thankful for the ocean breeze, and sipped the remainder of his water. Other than the grounds layout, where the three sets of back doors were, and the guard patrols, he hadn’t learned anything important in the forty-five minutes he’d been here. Unloading trucks wasn’t his idea of a productive investigation.
One of the men he’d seen patrol by stopped as the driver pushed up the rollaway door of the truck. “That the tent?”
“Yep.” The man didn’t even stop to answer. The other men from the car stood waiting.
The guard turned and walked directly to the house.
Charlie straightened, all his senses on alert. Something was about to happen, and he needed to be in place when it did. He tossed the towel and empty bottle back in his car and sauntered to the truck. Again he gave them his story about being sent to help, and again they accepted him without question.
As they unloaded the heavy white tent, two
“You can push that cart.” The bigger, brown-haired man gestured to another cart full of chairs off to the side. “Into the pool house. Danny’s inside. Big guy, red hair. You can’t miss him. He’ll show you where to put it.”
Charlie grunted acknowledgement and did as he’d been instructed. The pool house was bigger than his parent’s three-bedroom home. The floors were shiny cream tile. The cart’s rubber wheels made little sound as he pushed it down the short hallway to a room that looked like a small ballroom.
He spotted Danny immediately. “Big guy” had been an understatement. He was at least six-four with biceps as round as soccer balls.
Danny spotted him, too, and strode toward him. “Who are you?” It wasn’t a casual question.
“Chuck. They told me to help you unload.”
Danny’s green eyes narrowed. “We’re not going to steal anything.”
Charlie shrugged. “I go where I’m told to go.”
Danny’s jaw muscles clenched. “Put that cart with the others. And for God’s sake, don’t run it into the columns.”
Charlie bit back a smile. “Yes, sir.”
Danny walked away cursing under his breath.
As Charlie went back and forth to the truck, he studied the layout of the house and grounds. There was the four-leaf clover pool Juliana had described. The property stretched to the ocean, where a small yacht was moored at the dock. He didn’t know if that entrance to the estate was guarded like the front was, not that he planned to wait until nightfall to make an assault from the ocean. No, this wedding frenzy was the perfect cover to get in and out of the grounds. But he needed to get into the house. He was confident the sculpture wasn’t in the pool house.
He watched for guards as he worked. He’d seen two more patrol the grounds. They could have been mistaken for businessmen in their lightweight suits, except for the slight bulges where they wore their guns and the cold look in their eyes. Charlie knew about guns. It had been part of his P.I. training. He knew how to fire one and practiced regularly with an actor friend, although he’d yet to purchase one of his own. He hadn’t run into a situation where he’d needed to use one.
When the truck was emptied, Charlie wandered back to his car frustrated. He still hadn’t gotten into the house. Boss man Danny ran a tight ship, and the few times he hadn’t been close by, one of the guards had been patrolling. Charlie had listened to the Paradise Rentals workers, but hadn’t learned much about the wedding. He needed details.
His shirt, the hair at his temples, and the back of his neck were damp with sweat. As he wiped his face and neck with a towel and gulped down water, another truck and a car full of Paradise Rental workers pulled in. Danny hadn’t said anything about more chairs. In fact, he’d said they had five hundred, which to Charlie meant that was all of them. And they’d unloaded tables, too. What more could be coming?
He debated helping again as he stood under the relative shade of a palm tree, thankful for the ocean breeze, and sipped the remainder of his water. Other than the grounds layout, where the three sets of back doors were, and the guard patrols, he hadn’t learned anything important in the forty-five minutes he’d been here. Unloading trucks wasn’t his idea of a productive investigation.
One of the men he’d seen patrol by stopped as the driver pushed up the rollaway door of the truck. “That the tent?”
“Yep.” The man didn’t even stop to answer. The other men from the car stood waiting.
The guard turned and walked directly to the house.
Charlie straightened, all his senses on alert. Something was about to happen, and he needed to be in place when it did. He tossed the towel and empty bottle back in his car and sauntered to the truck. Again he gave them his story about being sent to help, and again they accepted him without question.
As they unloaded the heavy white tent, two
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