22. Madeline

"Maddie." Adam turned to look at Madeline after he parked his SUV close to the wharf. With a deep inhale, he placed both hands on her cheeks, his expression serious.

Of course he was. This was serious business. And he didn't have to say what she knew he was going to say yet again.

He'd spoken the words last night before they went to sleep, wrapped in each other, and again this morning—and after her shower, and while she was dressing, and all the way to the studio to pick up Bella's dress. And one more time when they loaded the dress bag into his SUV and left for the wharf where the Captain's Table was docked for today's ceremony and champagne toast.

His message was always the same: you don't have to do this.

But, honestly, didn't Adam know her better than that? She'd made a commitment, given her word, and had a plan right down to the moment. She did have to do this, because if she didn't, Nico Cassano might burn down his restaurant, which could and would forever change this town in general and Wingate Way in particular.

So, yes, she had to do this.

"This is where we had our big talk, remember?" Adam said, surprising her by not saying what she expected. "This very wharf along the Amelia River."

"Of course I remember. I brought you down here to tell you I knew you weren't being entirely honest, and you admitted you were doing some undercover work for the FBI. You also asked me about one boat in particular…" Madeline glanced at the wide river dock where the three-level mega-yacht loomed over all the other pleasure craft. "Which is the site of today's mission, should I decide to accept it—which I know I don't have to do."

"But you will, because you made a promise."

She gave a light laugh that belied how nervous she was. "You do know me, after all."

"Very well. And…" With one finger under her chin, he turned her face back toward his. "I very much hope to know you even better after, oh, thirty years or so as your husband."

"You'll be eighty," she said. "And I'll still love you."

"And I'll love you," he replied softly, leaning over to kiss her. "In order to help us reach that goal, you have to get through three hot zones."

"Hot zones?" She lifted her brows. "New one on me."

"Think of them as…a threat junction," he told her.

"Oh, now I remember. A threat junction is any point in the assignment when things could get…dicey," she recited, like the good student she'd become under Adam's tutelage.

"Not dicey, dangerous," he corrected. "Point One is when they will wand you, and they might wand this dress. Remember, if you get an alert—"

"I know what to say." She'd certainly practiced it enough. "I look the guy in the eye and tell him, ‘There's a zipper, fasteners, and one hundred and sixteen crystal embellishments. Of course it's going to set off your metal detector.' And I'll say it with just enough sass so the goodfella knows not to mess with me."

"And expect them to take your phone then," he said, still very serious. "Now, Point Two will be stealthily turning on the recording device that's tucked in the dress. What do you watch for?"

"Mirrors," she said without hesitation. "First, I have to be alone with her, and then certain she can't see me from the back. I'll take her to a place where I'm the only one who can see the back of the dress."

"And if you can't?"

"Abort the mission." She looked up at him, a hand over her heart. "I promise I will, Adam."

Again, he looked satisfied with that answer.

"And I know Point Three," she added, eager to show him she did take this all very seriously. "We have one hour from the moment I turn on the receiver to hope the money exchanges hands. I will activate the battery as close to the actual ceremony as possible."

"And at the ceremony?" he asked.

"I don't know if I'll even be invited, but I dressed to be on deck." She flicked her hand to the teal sheath she wore. "If not, I'll wait in the stateroom. And pray."

"Praying's fine, but do not wander around the yacht and don't talk to anyone, even if they seem friendly. I know we have at least one plant on the boat, but even I don't know who it is."

She nodded. "The whole thing won't last long, because Bella told me their officiant is on a tight schedule. Probably has to deposit his cash." She rolled her eyes. "But she agreed I will bring the dress back to the studio, so I don't have to get the recording device out on the yacht, thank goodness, avoiding Hot Zone Number Four."

"Just remember, a threat can come out of the blue and shock you. Stay cool, stay calm, and trust no one."

"Okay, Adam." She pointed at the clock on the dashboard. "I don't want to be late. Which means I want to be fifteen minutes early."

He looked a little pained, drawing her to him. "I won't be far, Maddie. And I'll move heaven and Earth before I let anything happen to you."

The warning was ominous but actually made her feel better.

With one more kiss, they got out and he hoisted the huge dress bag from the back while Madeline grabbed her tool kit, which had everything she might need for a last-minute alteration.

As they walked over the small bridge that led to the wharf, they passed the Riverfront Café, where guests were enjoying Tori's amazing recipes with no idea that an FBI sting was happening right in front of their eyes.

The main river dock was long and narrow, with boats on both sides, but the Captain's Table took up most of the river side. Across from it, much smaller boats were moored, all eclipsed by the size and scope of the yacht.

Would Adam be in one of those, she wondered. It didn't matter—he wouldn't be on this one and she was on her own.

It was time.

Swallowing, she looked up at him as she slowed her. "Why don't you hand over the dress and let me go alone?"

He exhaled and nodded, cradling the huge bag and gently easing it into her hands. "One promise, Maddie. You've never broken one in your life, so make me one now."

She looked at him. "Come back in one piece, alive and well and ready to sink into life as Mrs. Adam Logan?"

"Yep. That's the promise."

She searched his face, plumbing the depths of his dark eyes, loving him with every fiber of her being. "I promise," she whispered, the two most powerful words she knew.

Satisfied, he leaned over and kissed her. "I love you."

"Madeline!"

They broke apart at the sound of the woman's voice floating down from the top deck, turning to squint up and see Bella, surrounded by people, waving madly.

"Bring me my fabulous dress!" she cried, breaking apart from the others.

With that, Adam stepped away, giving Madeline a look that nearly buckled her knees. In his dark eyes, she saw pride and support and surprise and so much love. She wouldn't let him down. She couldn't.

"Come on, come on!" Bella pranced across the main deck, past the two men protecting the entrance. "She's got my dress! Let her on board."

Madeline climbed onto the platform and allowed one of the men to take the dress, half expecting a body bag joke.

Another guy pulled out a metal detector wand, but Bella swiped it away with one hand. "Please. She's my dressmaker. But you need to toss your phone in the basket, Madeline."

"Sure thing." She dropped her phone—the burner, of course—in and sailed by the guard, taking the dress back, laughing as he joked with Bella about it weighing a ton.

"That's the one hundred and sixteen crystals," Madeline added, a little disappointed that she couldn't do her sassy comeback when it set off the metal detector.

Hot Zone Number One was in the can, and the next challenge would be reaching in to turn on the recording device without being seen.

Bella walked her through the first level of a jaw-dropping yacht, where the entire deck was filled with flowers and tulle—Ginny was determined to make this a wedding and not a bribery payout.

"So we're staying at the wharf," Bella told her, a note of disappointment in her voice. "My future husband claims he gets seasick and has insisted we not cruise for the ceremony so he doesn't blow lunch all over my dress."

"Oh?" Madeline considered if that change affected her plan, but it could only help her get off this boat sooner once Bella changed. "And where's your mother?"

"She's in here, the stateroom where we're dressing, getting her hair and makeup done." They reached a set of gleaming teak double doors and Bella threw her a look. "Theo's sister is here, too, so Mommy Dearest is on her best behavior, which probably won't last long."

"Maybe we can have her step out for some air while you're putting the dress on. Then she can come back, and we'll do the fake dressing for the photographer." In truth, there was no "maybe" about it, but Madeline was proud of herself for setting the stage.

"Good call, because I can only take her in small doses today." Bella pulled open the doors to a spacious stateroom, where two women fluttered around Ginny, who sat in a robe at a temporary vanity setup.

Another woman reclined on a leather sofa, sipping a mimosa.

"This is my dressmaker, Madeline," Bella announced to all. "Hair is Kelsey, makeup is Janeece, and that bombshell is Hailey Doukas, my future sister-in-law."

"Hello, all," Madeline said, adding a warm smile to Ginny. "And how's our Mother of the Bride today?"

"Not a wreck," Ginny announced. "The mini-wedding-on-the-boat has calmed my nerves."

"So has the mini-Valium-in-a-mimosa," Bella cracked, winking at Madeline. "Let me see the dress, for heaven's sake!"

"Of course. I want to steam the tulle one last time while you get your hair and makeup done, Bella." Madeline moved through the motions of taking the gown out of the bag, all the while surreptitiously checking the room for mirrors.

There were a few, but if the bathroom door was closed, and they dressed in front of the vanity, it would be fine.

Everyone oohed and ahhed over the dress, even delighted with Madeline's signature "Bride" satin hangar.

When they went back to hair and makeup, Madeline set up her steamer in the bathroom and wished so hard she could reach in behind that bow and dig her nail into the receiver while no one was paying any attention to her or the dress. But it was far too early, and the hour would run out.

Time ticked, women chatted, champagne flowed, and Madeline's heart raced as they got closer to Hot Zone Number Two.

When Bella's last curl was twisted and her lashes in place, she stood, gulped a mimosa, and extended her arms toward the dress. "My precious."

Madeline laughed, hoping her voice didn't sound tight. "Let's clear the room, then, and get it on you."

"I'll stay," Ginny said, lifting a champagne bottle to refresh her drink. "I've seen my daughter naked."

The stylists laughed as they packed up some tools.

"We can wait outside," Janeece said. "And Mrs. Cassano, you should, too. It's very bad luck to see your daughter put on her wedding dress."

It was? Madeline had certainly never heard that assertion before, and she'd been in a lot of dressing rooms at a lot of weddings, but she could kiss the young woman for the assist.

"That's ridiculous," Ginny said, plopping on the sofa.

Janeece lifted her brows. "You've never heard of the Greek goddess Alpharetta, who died at the altar because her mother saw her get dressed?"

Madeline nearly blinked and choked at the statement—the Greek goddess Alpharetta? Wasn't that a suburb of Atlanta?

But Hailey was up in a minute, grabbing Ginny's hand. "Move it, Mrs. C. Your daughter is marrying a Greek and rule number one is don't mess with the gods. Let's go get some pictures and air."

For a moment, Madeline was a little stunned, but managed not to react. Instead, she fluffed some tulle and checked a crystal and waited while the women gathered their things.

On the way out, Janeece blew a kiss to Bella, pronounced her gorgeous, and closed the bathroom door…ensuring that there was no way for Bella to see the back of her dress.

Oh, Janeece. Forget Greek gods, the makeup artist was on the side of the angels…and was probably the "plant" Adam had mentioned.

The knowledge gave Madeline a shot of adrenaline and confidence as she took down the dress. She could do this. She could do this with ease and steady hands and no threat at the junction, no heat in the zone.

Bella was giddy, maybe the tiniest bit tipsy, and naked except for a white lace thong as she stepped into the circle of the dress.

"Oh, my gawd, Madeline!" she exclaimed as if it were the first time she'd worn it.

"Beautiful, huh? Let's start on these buttons now." Madeline turned her toward the mirror, double-checking that she couldn't be seen, and lifted the bow that concealed the pocket for the recording device.

While Bella chatted a bit and jumped a little too much, Madeline reached in the fold, found the disk, and eased it to the top. Her heart slammed against her ribs, but she willed her fingers to take control, the way she did with a slippery fabric or a shaky bobbin on the sewing machine.

"Hold still now, Bella, this is the tricky button," she said, turning the tiny disk and pressing her thumbnail hard on the circle.

She felt it click into place, glanced over Bella's shoulder with a smile of victory, and used her finger to hold open the pocket and—

"There is no goddess Alpharetta!" Ginny yelled as she threw the stateroom door open.

Somehow, through the grace of God, Madeline didn't drop the disk. But it was still in her fingers and Ginny was marching closer. Oh, no. Hot Zone alert!

"I want to experience this moment! I paid for the dress!"

Madeline froze, holding the disk in trembling hands, unable to find the skinny pocket, so she stabbed the disk in the back of the bow. It slid into the tight folds of the loop, where it would stay—God willing—until the dress came off.

As Ginny squealed—she was definitely tipsy—Madeline finished the buttons with damp palms and a pulse-pounding headache.

Only then did she check the time to start the sixty-minute clock—Hot Zone Number Three.

Could she make it through the next hour? Would that device stay secure? She had no way of knowing, but when Ginny handed her a mimosa, Madeline took a deep, deep drink.

The ceremony startedon the spacious top deck exactly thirty-six minutes later. Madeline stood in the back of the deck—the stern, she supposed it was officially called—determined not to look around at the other boats and wonder where Adam might be.

In fact, they were high enough that no one could really see what was happening up here from other boats or the wharf, but the vantage point gave her a glorious view of Fernandina Beach.

When the sound system switched to Bella's entrance music, all attention turned to the bride, who glided down the aisle between the chairs set up for about twenty-five or thirty guests. Her smile was as bright as the crystals on her ballgown, and if Madeline hadn't been sweating bullets about the recording disk, she'd have congratulated herself on a jaw-dropper of a dress.

But she forced herself to watch the proceedings, and the clock. If Judge Nance wasn't much of a talker, they'd make the hour window easily and she could kick Hot Zone Number Three to the curb. Well, the water.

Calming herself, she studied the officiant standing between the bride and groom, who'd just joined hands in front of him. The judge was bald, with a gray mustache and a rotund belly.

Did he know he was about to take a fifty-thousand-dollar bribe? Madeline had no idea how deep he was at this point, but all she wanted was for him to hurry up, because time was a-tickin'.

She stared at Bella's back, the bow and its precious cargo a little difficult to see under the lace-trimmed tulle of her veil. Next to her, Theodore Doukas, whom the judge had called Theo, seemed an odd choice for Bella.

Good-looking enough, affable, but there was something meek and taut about the man. He had barely any family here, except for his sister, and seemed a little nervous, even for a groom.

As the judge started the proceedings, Theo glanced down at Bella with what looked like a shaky smile, snaking an arm around her back, perilously close to the bow and what was in it.

She pushed his hand away with a warning look that said, "Don't mess with the dress."

Madeline was grateful for that, but whoa. Bella would chew that man up and spit him out before they hit five years.

Thankfully, Judge Nance wasn't very eloquent. He barreled through the vows, called for a kiss, and everyone cheered noisily. Instantly, Nico put his arm around Bella and Theo and the judge, ushering them toward a private salon to sign the marriage certificate.

And commit a felony.

There were exactly six minutes left on the device. Hot Zone Number Three would be done soon, and if they missed the window because they were talking about something other than a bribe, then Madeline couldn't do anything about that.

She mingled with the guests, wondering if anyone other than the makeup artist—who'd opted to stay in the stateroom because she didn't have the right clothes—were FBI agents.

Since everyone seemed to know each other, she doubted any of these people were on "her side" but she honestly had no way of knowing. Staying in the outer circles, she leaned on a hip-high railing, glancing down at least twenty feet to the water.

"How do you know Adam Logan?"

She looked up and met the steely-eyed gaze of a man who didn't look the least bit familiar, the question throwing her completely. Was he friend or foe? FBI plant or…someone who knew Adam was?

"He's my husband," she said, trying to sound as casual as possible. "How do you know him?"

"We worked together years ago before he went to Europe. Same software company."

That was possible, she supposed. Had he been undercover then? Probably. Did this guy know that? Possibly.

Trust no one, she reminded herself.

"I saw you with him on the dock," he said, no doubt in response to her expression—which was probably a mix of shock, fear, and confusion.

"I'm Bella's dressmaker," she told him. "Are you family or a friend of Bella's?"

"I work for Nico."

She swallowed hard. "Oh? What do you do for him?"

"Whatever he wants." He extended his hand. "Louis Serifino."

She almost choked, but managed to keep her cool.

Thiswas the famous Serifino? And he knew Adam? How? Adam certainly didn't know him.

Somehow, she pulled off a friendly smile. "Hello. Madeline Wingate."

"Wingate? I thought you're married to—"

"Oh, force of habit. Professionally, I'm Madeline Wingate."

He searched her face, maybe a little too hard. "How long have you and Adam been married?"

Was this Hot Zone Number Four? The one she didn't expect at all? "We only just—"

A noisy cheer went up from the twenty-five or so people gathered as the bride, groom, father of the bride, and Judge Nance stepped back to the deck. They looked happy—even the judge was smiling. Fifty racks would do that for a man.

And the clock would run out in less than a minute.

Hallelujah!She raised her champagne flute with everyone else, ready to escape Louis Serifino—knowing he was a hit man or a money launderer or some lowlife the FBI wanted.

She would hide out in the stateroom until Bella changed and, by the weight of the dress, it would be soon.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" the crowd chanted.

During the loud cries, Madeline stepped away from the man next to her, staying close to the railing as she made her way toward the steps that would take her down to the second level.

She glanced over her shoulder at the cheering crowd behind her, catching the moment when Theo wrapped his arms around Bella and bent her all the way back, kissing hard, stabbing his hand around the dress, and—

She gasped as his hand dislodged the bow completely and Bella screamed, no doubt hearing the dress rip. Why did he do that?

Madeline froze in horror as a small black disk skidded down the tulle dress, tumbled recklessly to the bottom, and rolled across the deck like a cockroach.

It landed at the foot of the judge, who peered at it, bent over, and picked it up.

"She's wired!" Judge Nance growled, holding it up for everyone to see. "You little traitor! You recorded that!"

"I did not!" Bella shouted, looking around frantically and patting her whole dress in a panic. "I did not!"

The judge threw the device on the deck and stomped it with his heel, so hard Madeline could hear the electronics inside crunched to oblivion.

"He did it!" Bella pointed directly at…her husband.

"Bella, I—"

"You stuck a wire in my dress during the ceremony!" She reached around and ripped the bow off completely. "I knew you were acting weird! I knew you were saying things that didn't need to be said just to get it recorded."

Nico lunged at Theo. "If you wired that dress, you son of a—"

"I don't care who did it!" the judge hollered, joining the fray, waving the broken device. "But the deal is off!"

"How could you?" Bella spat at Theo.

"How could you?" he shot back.

Blood drained from Madeline's head. How could she get out of here unscathed and without a shred of suspicion?

Stay. She had to stay put and watch the drama and not run like the guilty party.

Trying not to tremble, she took a step closer to the railing, doing her best to be another shocked guest, but from the corner of her eye, she saw a man move closer.

She glanced and caught Louis Serifino's gaze slice through her.

Oh, God. He knew. He knew. He knew she'd wired the dress—it was clear from the look on his face.

Chaos exploded, with Bella shrieking and Theo blaming and Nico roaring, all of it while Serifino worked his way closer to Madeline.

She looked left and right, still twenty feet from the stairs. Even if she got there before he did, if she ran, they'd see and put two and two together and come up with…the dressmaker working for the FBI, who'd wired the wedding dress.

She could feel Serifino closing in. Now what? Could she escape and claim she'd been scared by the yelling? Could she find Adam who'd promised he'd move heaven and Earth before he let anything happen to her?

Well, now would be a good time to keep that promise, Adam Logan.

What should she do?

"Come with me."

The words were growled into her ear along with Serifino's fingers digging into her arm.

She practically collapsed with a whimper.

"Now. Fast. Move."

She followed the orders, not that she had any choice, letting him jostle her to the stairs and down so fast, it was possible no one saw. Every person on the deck was either in an argument or watching one unfold while she was…being taken away to her death, no doubt.

He was probably their hit man! Doing his job and saving the family the dirty work.

"All the way," he growled, pushing her toward another set of stairs that led to the main deck, which was completely empty. No witnesses. But there were boats nearby. Was Adam on—

He yanked her into the shadows of the main salon, under the overhang and out of sight of those boats. Swinging her around, he sliced her with a menacing stare.

"You're with Adam?" he demanded.

What should she say? Anything could be the wrong answer and he'd whip out a gun and—

"Are you with the FBI?" he pulled her closer, his eyes tapered to demanding slivers.

She just stared at him, this man who would likely kill her. He was going to end it all. She finally had love after a lifetime of loneliness. She had a future and a family, sisters and parents, nieces and nephews, and a life that was so worth living…and now some mafia-made man was going to—

"I know you are!" He wrenched her arm, pulling her toward the benches along the stern, looking left and right in desperation. Making sure the coast was clear when he threw her in? Or was he—

He pressed his hand to his ear and scowled. "I need the dressmaker removed, stat! Ten seconds left!"

Removed?Was that what the mafia called it when—

From the corner of her eye, she saw a man leap from a fishing boat across the dock, lunging toward the yacht. Just then, Serifino hoisted her body and practically tossed her onto the wooden dock, right to—Adam! That man was Adam.

"Oh, thank—"

He scooped her up and twirled her in one move, dropping her into that fishing boat, empty but for another man behind the helm. Before Madeline knew what was happening, Adam jumped in and shoved her to the small deck, covering her whole body as the motor screamed, launching them away from the wharf.

He pinned her against the fiberglass deck, smashing her face as he protected her. "Move, move, move!" he ordered the driver.

The boat ripped over the water, the bow nearly airborne, every wave rocking her whole body. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, but might have been five minutes, Adam sat up and helped her do the same.

Falling against him, all she could do was struggle for the next breath.

"Maddie, oh, my God, Maddie." He squeezed her, somehow managing to wrap her in his arms, murmuring her name, rocking her as the boat thwacked against its own wake and turned around.

"What just happened?" She could barely speak as something that might be shock started to make her tremble and quake.

"Just…wait."

She followed his gaze back to the wharf, which was half a mile away now. There, a dozen boats surrounded the yacht and two helicopters hovered overhead. Something told her that wasn't Bella's grand helicopter exit happening.

Men in SWAT team gear swarmed the entire wharf, moving like a pack of animals about to pounce.

"What's going on?" she cried.

He pulled her into his chest and held her. "The family is going down. Hard."

"But…but there's no…recording. They found the device and now Bella thinks Theo wired her and—"

"He wired himself."

"What?"

"Theo Doukas turned last night," he told her. "He agreed to wear a wire and set up a sting in exchange for a lighter sentence for drug trafficking, which he's up to his eyeballs in."

Madeline just stared at the scene unfolding on the dock, trying to put the pieces together. "But…but…"

"Don't worry. No one will ever know you wired the dress."

"Louis Serifino knows," she said, already imagining him coming after her years from now when he was out of prison. "He also knows you."

Adam squeezed her. "That's because we just found out who he really is. Louis Serifino is Tom Herriman, an undercover DEA agent I knew from years ago."

"DEA? You just found out? I do not understand this."

"The FBI didn't know until ten minutes before the wedding, when the DEA agents showed up and wanted to know what the FBI was doing here."

Madeline groaned and rolled her eyes. "You'd think they'd talk."

"Yeah," he agreed, holding her close. "I couldn't reach you to tell you, but Theo's wire picked up the frequency from Bella's recording, and he knocked it out so she'd get blamed. I don't know how, because it was—"

"In her bow. I had a little trip-up during Hot Zone Number Two." She finally exhaled in relief. "So I'm safe?"

"And sound," he said, looking down at her.

"See? I kept my promise. I always keep my promises, Adam."

"Then make me another promise," he said, drawing back to look into her eyes. "No more. No more risks, no more undercover, no more anything except dressmaking and me."

She smiled. "Can you make the same promise?"

"Yes. I'll find the right job on Amelia Island and settle down like a boring old man living his best life with the woman he loves. I swear I'm done being a hero."

"Then so am I."

They kissed on a promise they knew they'd both keep.