Two Weddings and a Fugitive (The Chanel Series Book 4) by Donna Joy Usher Page A

fat friend followed.
    I grabbed my bag out of the locker and yanked out my phone. ‘Come on,’ I murmured as I rang Billy. ‘Pick up.’ My other hand searched the bottom of the bag till it found the hardness of my gun.
    ‘Hey Toots.’
    ‘Nick,’ I said. ‘Where’s Billy.’
    ‘Taking a shot.’
    ‘Get him.’
    ‘Don’t want to disturb him in his back swing.’
    ‘He’s here,’ I hissed.
    ‘She’s got a beard? Well, yeah Princess. I hate to break it to you, but Martine’s a dude.’
    The change room door squeaked and started to open. It stopped and then a woman said, ‘I’m sorry Sir, but no men are allowed back here.’
    ‘I am looking for my wife. Short woman. Black hair.’
    The Russian accent was unmistakeable.
    Eeeeeeekkk. I grabbed the revolver out of my bag and darted to the other side of the room to squat beside the lockers.
    ‘Chanel? Chanel? Are you there?’
    ‘Shhhhhhhh,’ I whispered.
    The door started to push the rest of the way open and I flattened myself against the wall, holding my breath to stop the little whimpers gathering in my throat from escaping. A few seconds later I heard the door shut again and the woman said, ‘There’s nobody in there, Sir. Perhaps you would like to follow me back to Reception and see if she is waiting there for you.’
    ‘Chanel?’ This time is was Billy’s voice.
    ‘He’s here,’ I whispered.
    ‘Nice shot, show off.’ He let out a laugh. ‘Who’s there?’
    I resisted my urge to scream, instead using sarcasm to unleash my frustration. ‘Donald Duck.’ I mean seriously, who did he think it would be?’
    ‘Boris?’
    Oh, so now he gets it. ‘Yes, Boris.’
    ‘Where are you?’
    ‘In the change room.’
    ‘Jesus, Chanel. What did I say? Safety in numbers.’
    ‘I had to get my gun.’
    ‘Get back to the others. Now,’ he barked into the phone.
    Still grasping my Glock, I slipped my hand inside my handbag and raced back the way I had come, sliding into the massage room about ten seconds later. Everything was as I had left it. Women covered in vegetable matter having their feet massaged.
    I smiled at my lady, placed my bag under the bed within reach and slid back onto the bed, but it was hard to relax when my heart was racing. I was scared for Billy. What if he found Boris and came off second best?
    The next twenty minutes felt like hours and as soon as the massage had finished I leapt off the bed and raced back out to the reception area.
    Nick was sitting on one of the lounges; his little legs swinging back and forth as he spun his cap on one finger.
    ‘What’s in your hair?’ He stopped spinning the cap and stared at my head.
    ‘Cucumber.’ At least that’s what I was guessing it was. ‘Where’s Billy?’
    ‘Out the front.’
    ‘Any sign of Boris?’
    He jumped off the couch and snapped the hat onto his head. ‘Zilch. You might want to get dressed so we can blow this joint.’
    I sighed and went back to the change rooms, hating the feeling of uselessness. Everybody else was almost dressed, so I threw my clothes on and shook the cucumber out of my hair.
    ‘Well,’ Mum said, ‘that was lovely. Where are we going for lunch?’
    I darted back out before I heard Tara’s answer and found Billy slumped against the buggy.
    He stood upright as he saw me exit the Spa. His cargo shorts and t-shirt showed off his buff body and I found myself trying to spot where he had hidden his weapon. ‘You’re sure it was him?’
    ‘Absolutely. I saw him and then I heard him.’ Must be down the back of his shorts.
    He shook his head.
    ‘This is good,’ I said. ‘Isn’t it? Now we can get back-up.’
    ‘We need proof.’
    ‘But I saw him.’
    ‘We need proof we can show the Bureau.’ He ran his hands through his hair.
    ‘You mean a photo.’ My heart sank. How were we going to get a photo of him? I shook my head. ‘I failed.’
    ‘No.’ He pushed away from the buggy and touched my arm. ‘At least now we know we’re right.’
    I