Page 11 of The Wedding Trap

He let her cry. He couldn’t have stopped her sobs even if he wanted to. Besides, it was better if she processed all the emotions swirling inside her. Her mind would be clearer once she got it all out of her system. Maybe then he would be able to get the information he needed from her.

  They had very little time before guests arrived. It wouldn't take long for John’s crew to find the body and clean up the mess. After that John would be coming up to talk to Beth.

  There were still tears in Beth’s eyes when she stopped crying ten minutes later, but the worst of the shaking had subsided. He helped her up off the floor and led her to a chair, sitting down next to her.

  “We have to talk,” he said quietly.

  She stared off into the distance for a second before nodding.

  “Can you think of any reason why someone would want you dead?” he asked.

  She turned toward him, her eyes unfocused. First, confusion swam in the honey-brown depths, then certainty.

  “No one,” she said. “That guy had to be a mugger or something. A random psychopath.”

  “No, he wasn’t.”

  “Of course he was.”

  He could see the wheels turning in her head, as she frantically tried to make sense of a situation that had ripped a hole in all that she believed. He'd seen it so many times, but he’d never before wanted to pull someone into his arms and tell them that everything was going to be all right.

  “That man wasn't a mugger, Beth. His name was Bruno Staal. He was a well known hit man for several criminal organizations.”

  “You knew him?” she asked. Her eyes lit up with certainty. “He was after you.”

  “He wasn't.”

  “Of course he was. It's the only thing that makes sense.”

  Alex shook his head. “Staal didn't give me a second look until I pushed you into that alley.”

  “Then how did you know him?” she asked.

  “It’s my job to know.”

  “Your job?” The look in her eyes changed. Wariness filled her body. She pulled away, just a fraction of an inch, enough to feel like she'd stabbed a dagger deep into his chest. “Who the hell are you? I want the truth.”

  He sighed, and leaned back in his chair. “My name is Alex Tanner. I’m with the CIA.”

  She looked at him in confusion, as if he had spoken a foreign language she didn't understand.

  “The CIA?” she repeated.

  He nodded.

  “What the hell is the CIA doing at my best friend's wedding?”

  “Not the whole CIA. Just me. The mission I’m on is being led by the Department of Homeland Security.”

  “A mission? What mission could you possibly have at Isobel's—” She stopped short, her mouth slightly open as she thought. “This has to do with Isobel's uncle, doesn't it?”

  He leaned forward. “You know about Salvatore Munoz?”

  “Yeah, I guess. Only what Isobel has told me. I know he’s bad news. I've only met him a couple of times, but each time he’s freaked me out,” she said. “You think that someone associated with Salvatore Munoz wants to kill me?”

  “Staal was a known associate of Munoz. He was connected to over a hundred murders and disappearances. If he was coming for you today, there was a reason. He received his orders from someone.”

  Fear lit up her eyes. She wrapped her arms around her middle. He didn't like seeing her afraid, but he wasn't going to lie to her. If she was marked by Munoz she had a right to know just how bad it was.

  He reached out and put a hand on her knee. She looked at it warily, but didn't move away.

  “What I said this morning is still true, Beth. I will keep you safe. I promise.”

  Three light knocks rapped against the door. Beth nearly jumped out of the chair, her eyes wide with fear.

  “It's all right,” he said. “We're expecting company.”

  ***

 
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