Royal Wedding Threat (16 page)

Ava couldn’t help
feeling the emotions depicted in the picture. The loss so closely mirrored what she’d felt upon losing her mother so horrifically.

“Growing up,” Jason began in a strained voice, “I thought this was just a picture of Mary and Jesus. Only a few years ago did someone point out to me it’s a family picture.” He gestured to the dark clouds that loomed behind Mary, their stained-glass forms outlined
by crisp lead lines, detailed shading sending an impression of soft rain falling from the clouds.

“Do you see?” Jason asked in a whisper.

“Is it God?”

Jason nodded. “He’s weeping for His Son.” Jason’s voice grew heavy as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I think that’s where he was when your mother died. He was watching over you, weeping with you.”

Tears threatened
to fall from Ava’s eyes, but she blinked them back. “Why did God let it happen?”

“He can’t change free will. Whoever killed your mother chose evil. That was their choice. God didn’t force them to do the right thing. He let them choose, even though it broke His heart.”

The tears Ava had been holding back fell freely then. “I hate it,” she sobbed. “I hate it that she’s dead.”

“So
do I. If I can presume to speak for God, I think God hates it, too. I know He hates evil, and that’s what her death was.” Jason pulled Ava tight against him as he spoke.

Ava wrestled with the words that welled up inside her. “I’ve been mad at God for a long time,” she admitted, “but it doesn’t help. It doesn’t bring her back. Nothing can.”

Jason whispered, “I think God wants to comfort
you, if you’ll let Him.”

“But I’ve turned my back on Him for so long.” She blushed, admitting the truth. “I yelled at God. I was angry.”

“Wouldn’t God rather have you yelling at Him than not talking to Him at all?” Jason offered her a hopeful smile. “You’ve yelled at me an awful lot in the past. That doesn’t change my feelings for you.”

Ava looked up at him for a long moment as
Jason’s words sank in. He hadn’t specified precisely what his feelings for her were, but based on his tenderness toward her and his protective care, he cared for her far more than she deserved. She’d yelled at him—done her very best to push him away and been dreadfully mean—but he still cared for her.

Was it possible God still loved her, too, even after she’d turned her back on Him for so
long? Ava gripped the end of the nearest pew and bowed her head while Jason rubbed her back. “Pray with me.” She knit her fingers through his. “Pray for me.”

Together they prayed until the heavy pit in Ava’s heart dissolved into lightness. She looked down at her fingers linked through Jason’s. Through her tear-blurred eyes, it was difficult to see where his fingers ended and hers began. They
were like strands of a cord, knit together, not easily broken.

“I think,” she admitted finally, when all her tears had been spent, “I’m finally strong enough to face whatever is going to happen tomorrow.”

“You are?”

“Well, not me alone,” she admitted, holding up their joined hands. “Three strands together—you, me and God.”

SIXTEEN

F
or all of Ava’s newfound confidence, Jason feared the worst the next day. None of the local hotels had admitted to having Douglas Wright or Tiffany Sterling among their guests. And yet Jason was nearly certain both of them were in the city somewhere.

And one of them, or both together, were almost certainly still plotting to kill Ava. And just like the day before when
the bomb-squad dog had chased one of them, they could show up at any moment, without warning.

He couldn’t hope they’d run away so quickly a second time.

Jason had done everything he knew to do. He’d taken every precaution short of postponing the wedding itself.

That would have been next to impossible and completely inadvisable. A crowd of invited guests poured from vehicles well
ahead of the ceremony start time. His guards looked better than respectable in their formal uniforms and polished shoes as they checked the invitations of every guest who arrived. Guests had been forewarned to bring photo identification with them. Fortunately most of those attending Alexander’s wedding were used to the procedure, which had also been required at Isabelle’s ceremony.

They’d
roped off the back parking lot for the royal limousines, sending the television vans off to a lot several blocks away. The SPBS patrolled with their dogs far beyond the range of the guests. Jason could only pray their visible presence would be enough to keep the killer away.

An hour passed, and most of another, before Jason’s earpiece buzzed. “The wedding party is lining up to depart from
the palace.”

“I’ll be right there,” Jason assured them. It was a short drive and usually an uneventful one. Jason had parked a royal-guard motorcycle around the block from the cathedral. He reached it quickly and made his way to the palace, glancing down each side street he passed, alert for any out-of-place television vans or any sign of trouble.

A shiver passed through him in spite
of the bright sunshine. He felt almost as though he was being watched. Surely those who were after Ava were nearby, waiting for the right opportunity to make their move. From the standpoint of the would-be killers, the royal wedding was the perfect opportunity to strike. Not only did the event force Ava out of hiding, but unlike the day before when there had only been the wedding party to keep track
of, today the throngs of guests had the royal guard stretched thin.

Jason couldn’t imagine the killers letting this opportunity slip by without seizing it. He feared at any moment they’d make their move, but still he arrived at the palace without incident, just as Ava ushered the first members of the royal family into the waiting limousines. The wedding planner’s pale yellow gown with its
fluttery sleeves was a shade lighter than Lillian’s cheery buttercup bridesmaid dresses and of a slightly more subdued style, though it flattered her fit figure perfectly. Jason found he had to force himself to look away from her and focus on watching over the royals.

Elaine, the queen mother, helped her husband, the former king, as he stooped to climb into the vehicle. The once-strong leader
had been frail ever since he’d taken a bullet defending his daughters in the wake of the insurgent uprising. He was no longer up to ruling the country, but his eldest son, King Thaddeus, performed that job with grace.

Thaddeus and his very-pregnant wife, Queen Monica, stepped into the next car with their son, Prince Peter. The queen was due to have twins in another month, with the various
Sardis newspapers taking sides over whether the babies would be boys, girls or one of each. To Jason’s knowledge—and he had some of the best intel in the palace—no one knew the gender of the babies, save possibly the royal family themselves, though none of them had whispered a thing about it to anyone.

The princesses Isabelle and Anastasia took the next car, along with their guards, Isabelle’s
husband, Levi Grenaldo, and Anastasia’s fiancé, Kirk Covington. The father of the bride joined them in their limousine.

More members of the wedding party followed. Prince Alexander’s groomsmen included Titus, the royal guard the prince credited with saving his and Lily’s lives in the deserts of North Africa. Jason didn’t begrudge the guard his position—in fact, he considered it helpful to
have a trained man so close to the wedding party. Titus had even insisted on wearing an earpiece so he could use his position to the greatest advantage.

Finally Lillian Bardici’s closest friends, who were serving as bridesmaids, poured from the castle surrounding the bride in her long, white gown. They held her train and her long, flowing veil to keep it from touching the ground and delicately
tucked everything around her in the limousine before climbing into the car after her.

Jason assessed the progress of the elegant wedding party. When they were all ensconced in their assigned vehicles, he stepped over to Ava’s side and offered her his elbow. “Ready?”

“I guess.” Ava placed her hand on his arm and let him lead her. “Can you feel me trembling?”

He could. Her hand shook
so hard he had to focus on keeping his arm still. “You’re not usually nervous before weddings, are you?”

“Usually only a little.” She paused as he opened the door to the sedan that would take them to the cathedral. “But usually no one’s trying to kill me.” She ducked inside, and Jason scooted in after her, nodding to Paul to proceed.

Since the thought had occurred to him before, Jason
confessed, “I’m impressed with how well you’re holding together, given the circumstances.”

She cast him a wry smile. “It’s my job. Weddings are full of chaos and uncertainty and things going wrong at the last moment. My job is to absorb all those blows, fix whatever I can and keep a level head so the bride and groom can enjoy their day.”

Jason grinned at her explanation of her duties,
realizing only as she made her explanation that their job descriptions weren’t all that different—not really. Perhaps that was another reason they’d clashed so much—they were both trying to achieve the same thing, but without working together. He’d be sure to rectify that in the future, assuming he could convince Ava to stay in Lydia. And his new recruits could learn a great deal from this elegant,
courageous woman.

But for the moment, Jason needed to focus on the wedding. According to the plan he’d gone over with his guards the evening before, Ava and Jason would arrive first, hopefully before anyone realized the wedding party was on its way. Paul would stop in front of the steps to the cathedral and come around to open the door for them. With Paul blocking visibility on one side and
Jason on the other, the two of them would escort her into the building.

Once they were safely inside, Paul would climb back into the car and drive away, clearing the way for the rest of the royals to arrive, with Ava poised to receive them. Prince Alexander was already there, waiting with Dom Procopio in his back study.

The tricky part, of course, would be getting Ava safely inside the
building. Though barricades kept the crowd and media at bay, Jason had seen the masses gathered just beyond the velvet ropes—a throng of people so thick a killer could easily blend in among them. Besides the ground-level spectators, there were people watching from the windows and balconies of all the nearby buildings, including the U.S. embassy across the street from the cathedral.

The killer
could be anywhere.

The short car ride felt painfully long, though the sedan didn’t once stop. Finally they reached the front of the cathedral. As planned, Paul put the vehicle in Park and trotted around the back side to open Ava’s door. She stepped out between the armored guard and the armored car door.

Jason slid out behind her, swept one arm around her waist and led her up the stairs
with Paul close by on the other side. Alexander’s officers from the army lined the steps on either side, their bayonets pointed skyward, their white suits nearly blinding in the bright sunlight.

The guards at the top of the stairs pulled one door open as Ava neared the top of the stairs. Jason ushered Ava through and stepped in after her, his eyes taking a moment to adjust after the bright
sunlight outside.

He quickly identified all those standing nearby. Guards—Jason recognized each one of them.

They’d made it safely through the first step.

How many more remained? Rather than allow himself to think about the long day that stretched before them—and the many longer days that stretched after as long as the killer remained at large—Jason focused on the next step. The
guards would allow the distinguished arrivals through one by one. Music already flowed out from the sanctuary to the large front narthex, where the wedding party would arrange themselves.

Jason stood at Ava’s side as she expertly handled all the splendor of the formalities. Once Lillian was inside and safely tucked away out of sight with her bridesmaids in a small parlor between the narthex
and the fellowship hall, Ava used her walkie-talkie to instruct Dom Procopio to send Prince Alexander out to escort his parents up the aisle.

The queen mother let her frail husband hold tight to the prince’s arm, while she supported him from the other side. They progressed slowly up the center aisle as the orchestra played deep in the apse, behind the chancel, its notes filling the ancient
sanctuary high to the vaulted ceiling. The musicians themselves were all but completely hidden from view by the massive candelabras and floral displays that had transformed the chancel into a veritable Garden of Eden dominated by white lilies and lilies of the valley.

Once the prince’s parents were seated in the front pew, Alexander took his place at the front next to the deacon, and Ava
began sending up the members of the wedding party in pairs. First, Lily’s friends with their escorts, then Alex’s sisters, Isabelle on Levi’s arm, Anastasia with Kirk Covington. Finally with King Thaddeus serving as his brother’s best man, the king escorted Queen Monica, pregnant and glowing, her bouquet of lilies perched above her swelling baby bump, to the front, where, as planned, the queen was
given a spot near the queen mother and former king in the front pew.

But instead of sitting, Queen Monica remained standing. At Ava’s signal, the music changed, swelling to the opening notes of the bridal march as Lily emerged on her father’s arm last of all, as beautiful as her namesake flower, which she carried in a massive bouquet that trailed nearly to the hem of her gown.

The queen
mother rose and the rest of the congregation followed suit. At the front of the sanctuary, Prince Alexander’s face beamed with emotion as he caught his first glimpse of his bride in her wedding gown.

Jason looked down at Ava, who stood just out of sight of most of the congregation, peeking through a gap between the last of the three sets of double doors at the rear of the sanctuary. Her attention
was fully focused on the bride’s progress up the aisle. Lillian looked lovely in her wedding gown. But in Jason’s eyes, Ava was the real beauty, selflessly devoted to the happiness of the families she served.

What was it she’d promised her brides? To give them the wedding of their dreams?

Suddenly Jason realized he wanted nothing more than to give Ava that very same thing. What would
she look like in a flowing white gown, holding flowers, walking toward him as he stood by Dom Procopio’s side? She’d be breathtaking. But would Ava even be interested in marrying him? She’d never mentioned what her feelings were or even whether she intended to return to the United States once her term of service had ended.

“Ready?” Ava looked up at him.

Jason blinked, so lost in thought
he had to refocus his attention on the present. Lily had reached the front of the sanctuary. He and Ava were now to climb the back spiral staircase that led to the balcony. From there they’d oversee the rest of the service. Realizing he needed to remain alert and not allow his thoughts to drift off again, Jason led the way up the stairs, checking first around every bend to be certain no one lay
in wait for them.

They reached the top safely, and as Jason had expected, based on the successful rehearsal the day before, the rest of the service went smoothly, save for the bride nearly losing her voice to happy tears as she repeated her vows to the prince. Ava stayed in the balcony as the recessional began to play, using the bird’s-eye vantage point to oversee everyone’s exit.

When
the bride and groom reached the rear of the sanctuary, Ava contacted the men below, who escorted the pair into the parlor again while the rest of the wedding party and the guests gathered outside.

Finally, with Ava overseeing everything from the balcony through an opened panel of the great stained-glass window that overlooked the front stairs of the cathedral, the pair of horses arrived pulling
the bulletproof carriage, and Ava used her walkie-talkie to let the bellmen know it was time to ring the ancient church bells.

Musical cacophony filled the air as the bells rang out from the high tower above. At their signal, the bride and groom stepped out together.

Cheers erupted all along the street, along with flashbulbs and cloudbursts of white paper confetti as the prince and his
bride descended the stairs and climbed into the carriage. The horses obediently stepped forward at the driver’s signal, and the carriage rolled away toward the palace. In its place, limousines queued up to collect their passengers.

Ava oversaw it all, staying in contact with the men below until the last of the dignitaries had reached their cars and the guards sent up word that the wedding
party had arrived inside the safety of the palace gates.

Only then did Ava turn her attention to him. “We can leave once all the guests are inside the palace gates. It shouldn’t be long now.”

“Let’s head downstairs.” Jason held out his hand, grateful when she clasped her fingers around his as he led her back to the main floor. From there, the plan was for the two of them to sneak out
through the back-alley door, signaling Paul to meet them with the car, timing his approach and theirs so the sedan would spend minimal time idling in the alley. They didn’t want the vehicle to sit there long enough to draw attention.