Page 22 of Renegade
“Then don’t,” she says resolutely. “If you really believe, in your gut, that Liam’s innocent, there’s got to be something to it. I’ll help you. We’ll get to the bottom of this together. Forget Noah and NCIS and the Navy SEALs. No one’s tougher and more resourceful than a couple of kids from the wrong side of the tracks who defied the odds and made something of their lives.”
We share a smile. Before I know it, we’ve been talking nonstop for five hours and the plane is touching down in San Francisco. We rent a car, throw our bags in the back, and drive to the hotel I booked near Union Square.
“Have you heard from Dr. Morris’s family?” I ask her as we wait behind another couple at the check-in desk.
She shakes her head. “I’ll try again when we get up to our room.”
“Did you leave a mess—”
“Shh,” she interrupts me with her fingers gripping my arm. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“What he said to the couple before us? This is going to be great.”
Before I can ask her what the hell she’s talking about, the exuberant young man at the check-in desk flashes us a dazzling smile. “Hi. I’m Kevin. How can I help you today?”
“We’re checking in. Name’s Walker Kinkaid.”
He types, pauses, types again. “There you are.” He looks up at me. “And are you celebrating a special occasion with us?”
“It’s our honeymoon,” Gemma interjects with a huge smile. She leans into me, slips her hand in mine, and looks up at me with adoration. What the fuck?
“Ooh. Love is in the air. The couple who checked in just before you were on their honeymoon as well.”
I shoot Gemma a questioning look, but she just squeezes my hand and shakes her head almost imperceptibly.
“I’ll upgrade you to one of our honeymoon suites at no extra charge, too,” the desk clerk says, beaming. That must be what Gemma heard him say. For her, it’s an upgrade. For me, it’s going to be torture.
He types some more and then hands me two room cards. “This room provides the most romantic view you’ve ever seen,” he gushes. “You’ll find a bottle of chilled champagne waiting for you, along with a box of Ghirardelli chocolates and a coupon for a free dinner in our restaurant. You might want to consider one of our in-room massages. And don’t hesitate to contact the concierge to assist you with tours and reservations. Are you going to the wine country?”
“We still aren’t sure of our plans,” I hedge.
“We may just stay in our hotel room the whole time,” Gemma says to him with a suggestive grin as we leave the front desk.
“Haven’t you ever heard of overplaying your hand?” I shake my head at her as we take the elevator up to our room.
Gemma shrugs as the elevator door opens on our floor. “I was on a roll. I heard him upgrade the couple in front of us, so I figured, why not? We could pass as newlyweds. Besides, I own a wedding business. This is like research.”
“Your nose just grew an inch.” I tap it with my finger, and she scrunches it up as she grins back at me.
I insert the key card and open the door to the most beautiful hotel room I’ve ever seen. Located at the top of the high-rise hotel, floor-to-ceiling windows offer a panoramic view of the city and the Golden Gate Bridge. The room itself is modern-looking, with brightly striped walls and crisp, white bed linens on the king-size bed that dominates the room.
“Come on. Admit it. This is fantastic.”
So much for requesting two beds. “It’s fantastic.”
“I’m starving. Can we go get something to eat?”
“Sure. You want to try Dr. Morris’s family again first?”
Gemma nods and makes the call while I sprawl in one of the plush armchairs and check my messages, but I can’t help but overhear her side of the call.
“Hi. This is Gemma Ward, McKenzie Prescott’s friend. McKenzie’s brother, Liam, lost his life rescuing Dr. Morris in Pakistan. We came to see Dr. Morris a few months ago.” A pause. “Yes, I heard. I’m so very sorry to hear that. The reason I’m calling is because Liam is being considered for a very prestigious award. The, um…” She looks over at me for help.
I mouth “Navy Cross” and sit back in amusement. My messages can wait. This is too good to miss.
“The Navy Cross award,” she says into the phone. “I’m here with a very high-ranking Navy SEAL who will be making the final decision, and he’d like to talk to you, if you don’t mind. It would mean so much to McKenzie if her brother was honored with this award.” There’s a pause, and she glances over at me, sees my grin, and makes a face at me. “Really? That would be wonderful. Thank you so much. We’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”
