The Bride Spy Read online

  Table of Contents

  CONTENTS

  Map

  Key

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The Bride Ransom

  About Piper

  Published by Piper Davenport

  Copyright ©2018 Trixie Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the authors, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  CONTENTS

  Map

  Key

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The Bride Ransom

  About Piper

  This was a fun read from beginning to end, new meets old with often hilarious out comes. From Hannah’s reaction to a chamber pot, and Chris’ reactions to some of her more interesting phrases, The Bride Spy shows how different can be good and love triumphs over all. This was a sweet romance with plenty of touching moments, but just enough actions to keep things fun! Over all, a great third book in this series that brings back old characters and opens the door for future releases! Rosie, Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance & More

  For Charlotte

  New Zealand gave me you, and you gave me friendship without boundaries

  Chicago, Illinois

  HANNAH NELSON STOOD with her hands on her hips and stared at the tornado she’d created. Her best friend, Emma Wellington, had disappeared several months ago from her home in Portland, Oregon, and she’d been rocked to the core. Thousands of miles away and anxious to help, Hannah’s half of the tiny dorm room at DePaul University was covered with newspaper clippings, printouts of email blogs, and anything else that might be a clue.

  The other half of the room belonged to her roommate, Victoria Carrington. Hannah sighed as she took in Victoria’s neatly made bed, ridiculously organized desktop, and bookshelves that would make a librarian squeal in glee. Victoria even had organized bins under her bed.

  Hannah, on the other hand, avoided looking under hers, convinced she’d find half a dozen missing socks, a dust bunny with fangs, and perhaps even a leprechaun. And not the cute one from the cereal box. More than likely the one from the bad B movie.

  With a sigh, she sat at her desk and powered up her laptop, finding a note from her roommate and reading it distractedly as she waited for her email to load. She heard the scratch of a key in the lock and turned to see Victoria walk through the door. She waved Victoria’s note in the air. “I thought you were at the studio.”

  Victoria sighed. “No, the family moved their appointment. The baby was too cranky for photos.” Dumping her bag on her bed, she sat cross-legged to face Hannah. “I’ve got an hour before I need to be back there. I have that stupid paper to finish.” Her focus landed on Hannah’s evidence. “Any word on Emma?”

  “Nothing.” Hannah frowned at the wall and then turned back to Victoria. “It’s all so bloody frustrating.”

  Victoria smiled gently and then stood. “Is there anything I can do?”

  Hannah shook her head. “No, but thanks.”

  “Have you been watching the news?”

  Hannah sighed. “Are you referring to the fight for the senate in Washington?”

  Victoria nodded. “Yes. That Victor Cary fellow is nasty. He’s doing some underhanded things to help his uncle.”

  “I did read that on my news page. He’s an ugly, ugly man, too.”

  Victoria wrinkled her nose. “Ew, I know. He’s the perfect henchman.”

  Hannah shrugged. “Well, I don’t care that much about politics. It doesn’t matter where you’re from, they’re all liars. They can all kill each other for all I care.”

  Hannah was originally from New Zealand, but had moved to the States in high school to get away from the family she couldn’t stand.

  Victoria rifled through her bag. “Their reach is pretty long, though,” she said distractedly.

  “Good thing we’re in Chicago, then, eh?”

  Victoria smiled. “Well, I’m going to take a shower, I think, before I go to the studio.”

  “What about your paper?”

  Victoria raised an eyebrow at her.

  Hannah giggled. “Procrastinating today, eh?”

  Victoria put her finger to her lips. “Don’t tell.”

  Reading her email as Victoria gathered her clothes and made her way into the bathroom, Hannah did another search for any possible news updates on the string of disappearances in Portland. Emma wasn’t the only one who’d vanished from that house. Her sister, Sophie, and brother-in-law, Jamie had also disappeared.

  Hannah let out a snort of derision at the lack of information. Apparently, enough time had passed that the media no longer cared. Finished with her stack of emails, including one that promised a larger penis, Hannah flopped on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Exhaustion blurred her vision, and she rubbed her gritty eyes.

  Once again subjected to a sleepless night, she took a deep breath. Ever since Emma’s disappearance, her dreams were plagued with nightmares. What confused her was the fact that the dreams weren’t specifically about Emma. Hannah searched her mind over and over trying to discern the threat, but she was at a loss and would wake with a scream most nights.

  Poor Victoria.

  Hannah knew she woke her roommate more often than not. She desperately wished she could get a handle on her nightmares, and it was those nights when she needed Emma the most. The pain ripped through her like salt in an open wound.

  Frustrated and amped
up, she knew she needed to blow off steam. The dance studio might be her only option, even without Emma to push her. Jumping off the bed, she looked around the room and then picked up her dance bag. She threw in a couple of practice leotards, her ballet slippers, and a change of clothes. She’d do some toe work today. She’d concentrated on lyrical over the last few months and neglected her ballet training.

  As she threw her phone and iPod in her bag, she hoped the music from her favorite band would take her mind off things. Just as she zipped her bag closed, Victoria surfaced from the bathroom. Hannah giggled and waved her hand to clear away the vapor that followed Victoria into the room. “Short shower today?”

  “What ev!” Victoria retorted. “I still have to do that paper, so lingering isn’t an option.”

  “Why did you wait so long, lovey?”

  “As Daddy says, ‘If it weren’t for the last minute, I’d get nothin’ done.’”

  Victoria, the only daughter of a wealthy Kentucky surgeon and a socialite mother, had sayings that were often as funny as Hannah’s “kiwi-isms.”

  “Love it. Well, I’m off to dance and then I have a job tonight.”

  Hannah worked for a local private investigator and she loved every second of her job.

  Victoria’s eyebrows puckered. “Why do you have to do your spy thing at night?”

  Hannah shrugged. “Because it’s a cheating case and the wife’s out of town. The creep likes to frequent a particular bar, so I’m bait.”

  “You say that as though you’re going to a job interview.” Victoria crossed her arms. “This is dangerous, Hannah.”

  Hannah smiled. “It’s not dangerous, love. Havoc will be with me.”

  Johnny Havoc was really Johnny Smith, but when he opened his private investigation business, he thought he should have a “tough” name, so he called himself “Havoc,” and it stuck.

  Victoria snorted. “Havoc... what a stupid nickname.”

  Hannah laughed. “I’ll be sure to tell him that.”

  “Sounds good.” Victoria bent her head. “Are you wearing shoes?”

  Hannah lifted a foot. “Yes, Mum, I’m wearing my shoes. Of course, my mum never cared if I wore shoes, but you Americans are so picky about that!”

  “Might I remind you that you’re an American now, or are they revoking your citizenship so soon?”

  Hannah giggled. “Funny.”

  “You can take the girl out of New Zealand, but...”

  “Oh, you’re hilarious.” Hannah smiled. “I’ll see you later.”

  Hannah walked out the door and down the dorm hallway, dragging her bag and outerwear with her. She was always reluctant to wear her heavy down jacket. Although warm and appropriate for Chicago in the winter, it stifled her. Not only did she avoid wearing shoes, she avoided wearing anything that meant it wasn’t summer anymore.

  Dragging open the door to the building, she was hit with a burst of frigid air. With an expletive that would have made her mother blush, she jumped back inside the building.

  “G’day.”

  Hannah turned to see her Australian friend Kevin walking down the hall toward her. She grinned. “Hi. Visiting Jen?”

  Tall and slender, Kevin had blond shaggy hair and light blue eyes. His accent only added to his appeal to the college girls, but much to their disappointment, he was a one-woman man.

  “Yeah.” Kevin chuckled. “Avoiding your clothing?”

  “Dag.” Hannah held her backpack out to him. “Hold this for a tic, would you?”

  He took the bag and Hannah pulled on her coat, the rustle of the waterproof material loud in the echoing hallway. “When’s it going to be summer again?”

  “Jen just asked the same question. Where are you off to?” Kevin handed the bag back to her and she swung it over her shoulder.

  “The studio. Do you think we can get together later to go over that case study?”

  Kevin held the door open for her, and she pulled her scarf up to her face.

  He smiled. “Yeah, no worries. Maybe around six?”

  Hannah nodded. “Ta. I’ll see you later.”

  With a wave, Kevin took off toward his dorm, and Hannah made her way to her car. The studio, located in a historic, but slightly rundown area of Chicago, was built in the early 1800s. To this day, it smelled of history and stale cigar smoke, which Hannah found oddly pleasing. Plus, she adored the architecture.

  Letting herself into the building, she was struck with an eerie feeling that made her pause. The building, usually alive with noise, was quiet. A chill raced over her. She made her way down the hall to her studio and slipped the key into the lock. An unfamiliar noise came from the stairwell and made her pause again. It sounded like gears grinding on a car. Leaning back slightly, she heard it again.

  While most people would have followed their instincts and run like hell, the forensic side of Hannah’s brain kicked into gear. Removing her keys from the studio door, she made her way down the hall, opened the stairwell door, poked her head in, and called out, “Hello? Is anyone there?” Nothing. She moved farther into the small area and the door closed behind her. And locked.

  “Bloody hell! Hello? Can anyone hear me?” She jiggled the doorknob and pounded on the door, but no one came to her aid. “Well, you’ve gone and done it now, Han. Buggar!”

  Going down, to the basement was entirely too creepy—even for Hannah, so she made her way up the stairs and found another door at the top. Fortunately, it wasn’t locked.

  “Thank you, God.” Moving slowly over the threshold, Hannah stared at the scene before her. Instead of the storeroom she expected, full of dusty boxes and rickety metal shelves, she found herself in a perfect replica of a Victorian parlor.

  Hannah slowly wandered the room, and her fingers brushed the deep green horsehair sofa facing a large fireplace. Her focus was pulled toward a painting mounted above the fireplace. A young man with dark hair, sporting a little more than a five o’clock shadow and dressed in black with a crisp white ascot, stared at her from the large canvas. Whoever had painted the portrait captured dark green eyes, which bordered on emerald. As she got closer, she noticed a label below the picture that read: “War Cabinet, Washington D.C. 1865.”

  “Now, aren’t you gorgeous?” She raised her hand to touch his face. “Why can’t I meet someone like you and live happily ever after?”

  Giggling at her thoughts, she continued to walk around the room. She touched everything. She marveled at the elaborate furnishings, but in the end, was drawn back to the painting. As she approached the canvas again, instead of the handsome soldier’s face, the vision of a dark room met her gaze—as though she were looking through a window. As she stepped forward for a better look, the entire wall and fireplace disappeared, and she was looking only at the dark room.

  No, not a room. A barn.

  She turned to find she was still in the Victorian parlor, but when she looked back again, all she saw was the barn. Hand shaking, she reached out to the hazy image, and without warning, her world spun and everything went black.

  * * *

  Christopher Butler sat in the office of his colleague and close friend, Clayton Madden. Serving under Secretary of War Edwin M. Stanton, in Abraham Lincoln’s cabinet, the men had just returned to Washington from Pennsylvania, where the President delivered the Gettysburg Address the day before.

  “Are you prepared for our trip to Harrisburg?” Clayton settled his ankle over his knee.

  Christopher sipped his whiskey and nodded. “Yes, we’ll be arriving on Wednesday. I’m hoping that’ll give us adequate time to settle in before the Thanksgiving festivities.”

  “Knowing Mrs. Wade, she’ll have everything prepared as we speak. Even if you arrived on Thursday, you would not be late.”

  Christopher chuckled. “That’s true. When are you leaving?”

  “Tuesday morning.”

  “So early? I thought Emma preferred to stay in the city.”

  Clayton smiled. “Yes. She does prefer the ci
ty. However, she’s also very sentimental and is looking forward to the holidays with her sister.”

  Christopher ran his hands through his hair as he lamented, “Gwen is driving us all mad with her enthusiasm.”

  “That’s not surprising. Gettysburg was her first trip outside of Washington. What girl wouldn’t be excited about spending time with her friends—and shopping?”

  “Yes, I suppose so.” Christopher shifted in his chair. “I must say, having brothers is easier than sisters. Even if she is a very small one.”

  “Any word from Quincy?”

  Christopher’s younger brother currently served in the Union Army and was not a subject he liked to discuss.

  “Nothing in over a month.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine, Chris. Your brother’s intelligent.”

  Christopher leaned back with a sigh. “Sometimes he’s a little too smart for his own good, and that’s my biggest concern.”

  Clayton chuckled. “All your siblings are.”

  “True. Gwen being the worst offender.” Christopher turned when he heard a derisive snort from the entrance of the office.

  Gwen rolled her eyes. “Chris.”

  The men stood and Clayton held out his hand to Emma, who stood next to Gwen. “Come in, sweet.”

  Emma led Gwen into the office with a grin. “I think Gwen is perfect just the way she is, Chris.”

  “Thank you, Emma.” Gwen straightened her spine and glanced at Christopher. “Anything to add?”

  He had to admit, he was too tired to tease his sister at present, no matter how tempting, so he smiled gently and indicated the chair next to him for her to sit. “No, Gwennie, not at all.”

  “Dinner is ready if you two would like to join us,” Emma said and gasped when Clayton pulled her into his lap as he sat back in his chair. Clayton whispered something in her ear and she laughed before facing the siblings, hand over her mouth. “Sorry, that was rude.”

  Christopher waved his hand, but secretly, he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the public displays of physical attraction he’d seen from his close friend. Emma brought out a side of Clayton he was unaccustomed to, evident once again as he watched her give Clayton a secret smile before climbing from his lap.