Baddest Bad Boys(89)

He started to disconnect, then stopped. “Wait! Check under Ellie McMann.”

There was silence, then, “Hold please. I’ll ring that room now.”

Relief that he’d located her battled with irritation that she’d left to begin with. The phone rang but Ellie didn’t answer. When voice mail picked up, Max disconnected. Maybe she was in the shower. Or had left to get something to eat.

He leaned toward the driver. “There’s been a change. I need to go back downtown. To the Marriott.”

Max’s phone rang again. This time it was Gerard.

“I’ve located Ellie,” Max said. “I’m on my way to her hotel now. How’s it going there?”

“I tried the good-guy routine and asked Bridgette who she knows at DeLuca Shipping, besides you. At first she clammed up, then she said she and a fellow named Richard Nolls dated casually. I called Nolls, who—get this—works in Data Processing. As soon as I mentioned Bridgette’s name, Nolls cracked. He admitted tapping your secretary’s e-mail and giving Bridgette your itinerary.”

“I want Nolls arrested.”

“It’s already in the works. He’s agreed to cooperate in hopes of a lighter punishment. He says he thinks Bridgette was relaying the information to someone else. Nolls thought she was selling it to the paparazzi for money.”

Bridgette didn’t need money. “Have you told Bridgette what Nolls said?”

“Yes. I thought she was going to have a fit—then she calmed and demanded to talk to her lawyer. Says she won’t say another word without him present.”

“That’s an odd request, seeing as she hasn’t been charged with anything. Yet.” The cab jerked to a halt just then, in front of the Marriott. “Look, I’m at Ellie’s hotel now. Keep at it. I’ll call you shortly.”

Max stood near the elevator, waiting for the general manager. As was standard at any reputable hotel, guest room numbers were not given out. However, when the desk clerk dialed Ellie’s room, she still didn’t answer.

The general manager, who recognized the DeLuca name, seemed willing to give Max the benefit of the doubt. “I’ll check Ms. McMann’s room personally.”

Just then the desk clerk rushed over and spoke in hushed tones to the manager. Max heard every word. “We’ve had a complaint of screams coming from room 713.”

Max turned and raced to the elevators. If anything happened to Ellie…

“Have security meet us on the seventh floor,” the manager said from behind him.

When they arrived, Max sprinted down the hall toward Ellie’s room. He pounded on the door, called her name, but there was no response. Then he heard a scream.

“Ellie!” he shouted. “I’m here!”

The manager had his master key card out but was so flustered he fumbled and dropped it. Max scooped it up and swiped it, then shoved the door. It only opened a few inches before the security chain caught.

“Get back!” Max took a step backwards and kicked the door. On the third try the frame splintered and the door swung free.

Max rushed in. Ellie was on the far side of the room, using the broken base of a lamp to hold off a man who wore a mask. Max tackled the man from behind.

They rolled, crashing into the sofa. The man jabbed Max in the ribs, but Max countered, subduing him with a couple of satisfying punches to the jaw.

Two more men had bustled into the room. “Hotel security,” one of them shouted. The general manager pointed to the man Max straddled. “Hold him for the police.”

Max waited until the security agents had grabbed Ellie’s assailant, then he headed straight for Ellie. She had dropped to the floor and was crying as she talked to the manager. Max knelt in front of her, wanted to pull her into his arms. A large bruise had risen on her cheek, making him want to go back and stomp the man into the ground.

He focused on Ellie. “Tell me where you’re hurt.”

“I’ll be okay.” She touched her cheek, then grimaced. “I think.”

“Hold on.” Ignoring her protests, Max carried her to the loveseat in the far corner. The general manager appeared with an ice bucket and towel.

Max grabbed them and made a makeshift ice pack. “This might sting.”

“I’ll do that.” Ellie took the icy towel from him and gingerly pressed it to her cheek. “How did you know I needed help? Wait—you had me followed, right? I should have known Gerard wasn’t your only stoolie.”

“Look, I know that you’re mad, but you don’t understand what’s been going on.”

“You’re right. I don’t understand. And I am mad. But at least this guy’s been caught. I don’t have to worry who’s following me now.” She looked at him, her eyes distant. “We both got what we wanted. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She pushed to her feet.

Max reached to help her, but she avoided his hands. He reminded himself that she had a right to be angry. He and Ellie needed to clear the air about a lot of things. Their past. Her marriage to Stefan. This whole disaster with Bridgette.

But now wasn’t the time.

“There’s a room across the hall,” the general manager offered. “Ms. McMann?”

“We’ll talk later,” Max promised. When Ellie left, he walked back toward the man who had attacked her. The security agents had him sitting up on the bed, his hands cuffed behind his back. They had removed his mask. Blood trickled from his nose.