Alex angled her arm behind her and tugged the zipper of the gown. The gown ripped from the force she used, but she’d never wear it again after tonight. She stuffed it and the shoes behind a pile of cleaning supplies. With luck, no one would find it until the next day.
She ripped off her heels and rummaged around. A pair of jeans and a stained white T-shirt left in the corner of the room fit her needs perfectly. She wet her hair down, pushed it behind her ears, and placed a Braves cap on her head. The contents of her small purse fit easily into her pockets. She hid the purse with her dress. Her feet would have to remain bare in order to move as quickly as possible.
With a small prayer for Henry’s safety, she bolted out the door and made her way to an illuminated exit sign. Stairs. An alarm system linked to the exit door could announce her location, but this was not the time for cowardice.
Pushing it open without pause, without hesitation, she hustled through and ran down the stairs. No alarm rang out in her ears, but that didn’t mean a silent alarm hadn’t been triggered in an office at another location. She spun down the stairs floor after floor. Forty-five floors needed to be covered as quickly as possible. Her chest hurt from running at top speed, and the dusty air of the stairwell dried her throat. Around floor twenty, she tripped. Her body fell five stairs to a landing. She remained on the ground as the energy that had motivated her down the stairwell evaporated. Standing, she dusted herself off to soothe her nerves and then continued. Her legs hurt from the exertion, but she didn’t stop until she was one floor below the lobby.
Completely out of breath, she placed her hands on her knees, inhaling and exhaling until her legs stopped shaking and she could exit the stairwell. The door opened easily into a nonpublic area.
“Hello?” a voice called out from across the maintenance room.
Alex remained silent for a moment, tucked behind a stack of wooden crates. Her father repeated his philosophy of life so often, it had engraved itself into her psyche. Success comes to people who don’t panic in a crisis. One lesson from him she took to heart.
Taking several deep breaths, she calmed her fears and gained a jolt of energy. A security guard passed her hiding spot on his way to the stairwell. She counted to three, then bolted.
A large loading dock stood as a beacon to her freedom. She blasted through the plastic barrier and hopped off the platform. Clenching her fists to get control of her fear, she slowed as she turned onto the main road and then strolled by the entrance to the building and into the night.
Chapter Twenty
Henry ran toward a loud explosion of crystal in the foyer. Everyone else had the same idea. Where was Gabe? He pushed his way through the crowds. Shattered glass hindered his path. Champagne coated the floor among the remnants of crystal flutes. Several individuals had cuts on their legs. The clumsy waitress sat on the ground weeping among shards of broken glass. No sign of Gabe.
A dark-haired man, screaming expletives in French, had the most damage to his outfit. The champagne had covered him from his head to his feet. God help that waitress who couldn’t keep her balance.
“Merde.” He called to someone Henry recognized as the man Simon joined for a late-night drink in Edinburgh. “Brian, trouves Alex rapidement.”
Several new servers approached the guy to help him. He waved them all away, clearly upset he couldn’t find this Alex fellow. Alex? It couldn’t be a coincidence. His presence would explain Gabe’s departure from his side almost ten minutes ago. Did she run from him or run away with him?
“Pardon me,” Henry called out to a passing waitress. “Have you seen a woman in a gold evening gown?”
The petite blonde angled her head toward Henry. The look on her face told him to avoid mentioning his connection to her. “The bitch who tripped Candy? Everyone’s searching for her.”
That didn’t bode well for Gabe’s fate. Where the hell was she? He searched each section of the gallery and waited by the ladies’ room several minutes. By the time the mess in the foyer had been cleaned up, his nerves sizzled, but panic wouldn’t help him. Patience and a plan had been his best weapons in the military and would be now.
Although he hesitated to enter the lift, his instincts told him she’d left the building. Perhaps she’d returned to the hotel. As the doors closed to take him downstairs, the auctioneer announced the starting bid for the Sir Thomas Lawrence portrait, Lady on a Horse. Acid churned in his gut, and his throat constricted. The auction. He fought the urge to throw his hand between the closing doors and bolt into the auction room. The doors sealed shut and so did Henry’s chances of securing the painting to fund the castle renovations.
The ride took forever. He wanted to pound the door in frustration, but the elderly couple next to him didn’t need to see a lunatic unleashed. He held back his aggravation and rage by clenching his teeth and his hands. The painting might be lost to him forever, but he had bigger issues to deal with. He mourned for his legacy, he mourned for the Ripon Women’s Group, but those feelings were diminished over the loss of Gabe. He’d give up everything he owned to return her safely to his side, no matter why she’d fled.
Stepping into the lobby, Henry reached into his pocket to retrieve his mobile to text the driver. Something hard rubbed against his fingers. He knew the instant his fingertips touched it. The black sapphire ring. She must have dropped the ring in his pocket when she hugged him. Alex didn’t kidnap her. She’d either left willingly with him, or she’d escaped Alex and had given Henry a token to say good-bye.
He exited the building and walked toward his hotel as he dialed Simon.
Simon’s voice sounded jovial. “Henry, do you have the portrait?”