“Wyatt?” she pressed, realizing he hadn’t answered her.
There was a hard set to his jaw, a simmering tension in his movements, and that didn’t make her feel better at all. Wyatt had jumped in front of a gun for her. He was an ex-soldier. He was clearly someone who ran into dicey situations when everyone else was running out, so if he said they needed to run, she had to trust his instincts.
“Sorry. Thinking,” he said in clipped tones, shooting her a quick look, his dark eyes filled with shadows. “What about your mother’s house?”
“No. My mom will have a million questions. Plus, she’s leaving for Hawaii tomorrow, and I don’t want her to change her plans.”
“What about your dad then?”
“And bring danger to him? Or to any of my friends? I need to stay somewhere that isn’t attached to me, where no one would expect me to be. Why don’t you just drop me at the nearest hotel?”
“I’m not dropping you anywhere.”
“We can’t stay together,” she protested.
“Why not?”
“Because…we can’t,” she said, floundering for a good reason that wouldn’t make her sound like an idiot.
“We’ll get separate but connecting rooms. However, I’d like to stop at my apartment and pick up a few things before we do that.”
“I’m very capable of taking care of myself, Wyatt,” she said, trying to infuse as much confidence into those words as she could. But the truth was she didn’t feel at all optimistic that she could take care of herself, not after what had happened to Noelle and what happened to her at Noelle’s apartment.
“In ordinary situations, I’m sure you are,” Wyatt returned. “But this is not ordinary, Avery. If what I’ve told you isn’t enough for you to realize the need to be careful—”
“I recognize the need. I’m not stupid.”
“I know you’re not stupid; I just don’t think you’ve ever had to deal with the kind of danger that you might be in.”
He was right about that. “Fine. We’ll stay at the same hotel, but I can’t just hide out there. I have to go on living. I told Noelle’s mom that I would meet her at the mortuary at four o’clock today to discuss plans. I’m not going to let her deal with that alone.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“To the mortuary? To discuss funeral plans? To listen to Noelle’s mother sob with grief?” she asked with surprise.
“If that’s what you’re doing, that’s what I’m doing.”
“Why do you care what happens to me? You don’t know me. We’re not friends. I’m not your problem. Why go out of your way to make sure I’m safe?”
“I told you before; it’s my job to look out for Nova Star employees, and that includes you. Especially you, actually. I spoke to Hamilton while you were in the shower. He’s concerned about you, and he asked me to stay close. He’s the boss.”
“I doubt he made a point of that.”
“He said you’re practically family. Why don’t you call him and ask him if you can trust me?” Wyatt suggested.
Her gaze narrowed on his confident expression. “You know he’ll say yes.”
“I do. But I want you to feel as comfortable as you can with me.”
She debated for a moment and then pulled out her phone and called Hamilton. She rarely used the personal number he’d given her, but these circumstances were extraordinary. And as much as Wyatt seemed trustworthy, there were bits and pieces of his story that bothered her, like the fact that he’d been at the funhouse the night before, that he’d seen Noelle with Jonathan Tremaine but couldn’t explain how that came to be.
Hamilton answered a moment later. “Avery—are you all right?”
She heard real concern in his voice, and it touched her deeply. In truth, Hamilton sometimes felt more like a father to her than her own dad. “I’m hanging in there.”
“I am so sorry about your friend. Your father told me how close you were—ever since you were children.”
Emotion knotted her throat at his caring words. “Noelle and I were best friends for a long time. I really hope they catch the person who killed her.”
“You need to leave that to the police,” he said. “Wyatt told me what happened this morning. Why were you at your friend’s apartment?”
So, Wyatt had talked to Hamilton. At least, he hadn’t lied about that. “I just needed to go there,” she said vaguely, not wanting to get into any more details.
“I’m worried about you, Avery. Wyatt says the intruder got a look at your face.”
“Well, Wyatt was certainly chatty,” she said. “While the situation isn’t ideal, I’m being careful; I don’t want you to worry.”
“It’s too late for that. I didn’t know your friend, but she was an employee, and the manner of her death disturbs me. The fact that you could be in danger makes the situation even worse. I want Wyatt to protect you until we can hire additional security.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“I do. Now, will I see you tomorrow at your father’s birthday dinner? With everything that’s going on, I’m sure it’s the last thing you want to do, but I know Whitney has gone to a lot of trouble, and I’m quite certain your father would appreciate you being there.”
She’d completely forgotten about the birthday party. “I haven’t given it any thought.”
“Completely understandable. But please make it happen. I’d like to talk to you in person, Avery. I know you’re going through a difficult time, but there are also some things I need to know about your friend. With the launch coming up on Tuesday, I have to know if there is any break in my security.”
“I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow then, but I have one request. Please don’t say anything to my dad about what happened at Noelle’s apartment this morning. It will only upset him.”
“He’s your father; he has a right to know.”
“But there’s nothing he can do about it. I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything.”
There was a hesitation on the other end of the line, but finally Hamilton said, “All right. I will respect your wishes.”
“Thank you.”
“Take care.”
“I will.”
“Well?” Wyatt asked, as she disconnected the call.
“You weren’t lying. Hamilton asked you to look out for me.”
“And…you’ll let me be your shadow for a while longer?”
“Yes.” She turned her head to meet his gaze. “But I’m pretty sure you’re going to be bored out of your mind.”
For the first time since she’d met him, a smile curved his lips.
“Bored, huh? So far hanging out with you has been anything but boring.”
“But this isn’t my normal life. That is usually quite uneventful.”
“Well, hopefully we can get you back to that.”
“Hopefully,” she echoed, although a tiny part of her wondered if that was really what she wanted.
Not that she needed to live in a world where her friends were dying, but Noelle had just ranted to her the night before about being too complacent, unwilling to take risks, always playing it safe.
Well, she wasn’t doing any of that anymore. She was not playing it safe and she was taking a risk by trusting Wyatt, because as much as Hamilton seemed to like him, he’d only known Wyatt for a month. Maybe she needed to find out more about Hamilton’s favorite new security guy.
* * *
Despite her interest in getting to know what Wyatt Tanner was all about, his studio apartment gave her few clues. It was very small, utilitarian, no real signs of any kind of personality. He had a couch and a chair in front of a large TV and a queen-sized bed in a sleeping alcove, but there were no pictures or photos anywhere in the apartment.
“It doesn’t feel like you’ve lived here long,” she said, as he threw some clothes into what appeared to be an old Marine duffel bag.
“Why do you say that?”
“There’s
nothing here that feels personal. Where are your photos?”
“On my phone.”
Somehow, she doubted that. “Really?”
He shrugged. “I don’t take a lot of photos. I keep memories here,” he said, tapping the side of his head. “And I don’t need my space to be personal. It’s just a place to crash.”
“Exactly. It’s not a place to live. And I can’t help but feel that your salary at Nova Star would allow you to live a richer life.”
“I’m not into material things. I’ve spent a lot of my life moving around. It’s easier to leave when you don’t have to pack and unpack.”
She stared back at him, studying his expression. Wyatt certainly didn’t give much away, his gaze unreadable, his thoughts masked, and his emotions hidden away. He was over six-feet tall, with a powerful stance, a commanding presence. He was definitely the kind of man anyone would follow—the kind of man a woman would look at twice, or three times…
She drew in a quick breath at that distracting thought, trying not to notice his full, sexy lips, the strong jaw, the thick wavy brown hair that fell over his forehead.
“What?” he asked, his brows furrowing at her continued stare. “Something in my teeth?”
“No,” she said. “Sorry for staring. I was just…thinking.” She licked her lips. “So, you said it’s easier to leave if you don’t unpack. Does that mean you’re not planning to stay here or at Nova Star?”
“I have no plans to leave, but life can be temporary. This weekend is proof of that. I’ve seen a lot of people plan for a future that never came. It seems pointless.”
“That’s cynical and depressing.”
“Or realistic and pragmatic,” he returned, as he moved toward his closet.
She couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t have much more in there than a few suit jackets, dress shirts and slacks. He grabbed several of those items and put them in a green duffel bag that looked like it had seen better days.
“Is that from the service?” she asked.
“It is.”
“Why did you leave the Marines?”
“You’re very curious,” he said, zipping his bag.
“I’m a scientist. I question things. And you didn’t give me an answer.”
“I lost my hearing in a bomb blast. It came back about two weeks after they booted me out of the Corps.”
“I’m sorry you were injured. Do you miss being a soldier?”
“I still fight, just on a different battlefield.”
There was a steel gleam in his eyes, cockiness in his tone, and a core of strength that she found very, very appealing. She had no real reason to trust him, but she did. She hoped she wouldn’t regret that.
“We should get going,” he said. “I want to get us checked in somewhere before we go to the mortuary. We can talk later.”
She nodded, but she wasn’t sure if they would talk later, at least not about personal matters, and maybe it was better that way. She needed to think of Wyatt like a bodyguard, keep a good solid emotional wall between them.
After leaving his apartment, Wyatt drove them to a hotel in Marina Del Rey. It was big, impersonal, with lots of people around, and she suspected his choice was deliberate. After Wyatt checked them in, they took the elevator to the seventh floor. They had two connecting rooms and the first thing Wyatt did was open the door between the rooms and do a thorough check of both.
“What are you looking for?” she asked as he opened up her closet and the dresser drawers.
“Just looking.”
“No one knows we’re here or that we’d be assigned these rooms.”
“No, but I’d like to know if anyone comes in when we’re not here.” He pulled a piece of paper off a notepad by the phone, slipping it between two drawers. If anyone opened the drawer, the paper would fall.
“Very clever. I’m starting to feel like I’m in a spy movie,” she said.
“But this isn’t a movie, Avery, and you can’t forget that,” he said somberly, drawing her gaze to his.
“I know that, believe me.”
He nodded. “Okay.” He set up a few other simple traps in their rooms, and then they went back downstairs and headed to the mortuary.
* * *
The Sweet Peace Mortuary was housed in a two-story building about three blocks from a very large cemetery. Avery’s nerves tightened as she entered the building. It was the first time she’d ever been in a funeral home and she didn’t care for it. It was quiet and dark and had an odd smell, probably a mix of formaldehyde and something else. She did not want to think about what went on in the back rooms, so she tried to focus on the woman standing behind a tall counter.
The receptionist, who appeared to be in her sixties or seventies, gave her a sympathetic smile and asked if they were all present.
“We’re waiting on one more,” she said.
“Let me know when you’re all here, and Director Stanyan will see you in his office,” the reception replied. “Please have a seat.”
“Thanks.”
As she moved away from the counter and took a seat on one of the lobby sofas, she saw brochures on the coffee table in front of her for caskets, as well as pamphlets about burial rights and cremations. The people used as models for the promotional materials were all older, white-haired, having lived long and full lives, and a wave of anger ran through her.
“It isn’t fair,” she said to Wyatt, who had taken a seat next to her, picking up one of the brochures and waving it at him. “It’s too soon for Noelle to be gone. She doesn’t belong here. Can this be real? Can my best friend, a woman who is only thirty years old, be dead? This is a place for really old people.”
Wyatt’s brown eyes filled with compassion. “I wish it wasn’t real, Avery.”
“Me, too.” She put down the brochure and hugged her arms around her waist, feeling ice-cold, but she doubted any amount of heat would make her feel warm again.
“Tell me how you met,” Wyatt said.
“What?” she asked blankly.
“How you and Noelle first met.”
“I—I don’t know if I can talk about it.”
“You can.” He gave her an encouraging smile.
She thought for a moment. “It was at summer camp. We were eight years old and in the same cabin. We were going to the lake, and I saw that she had left without sunscreen or a hat, so I grabbed both items and told her she couldn’t be out all day in the sun without them. She looked at me like I was crazy. But that was me. I was the worrier, the girl who looked before she leapt. Noelle just dove in, headfirst, unafraid, ready for any adventure.” She paused. “I guess I should be glad she had so many adventures. She lived life. It was just too short.” She drew in a breath, trying to rein in her emotions, not wanting to break down in front of Wyatt. Plus, Noelle’s mom would be here soon, and she had a feeling Kari Price was going to be a mess. “I need to keep it together, especially with Noelle’s mom coming.”
“What’s her mother like?”
“Kari is a lot like Noelle—red hair, blue eyes, big personality. She can also be emotional and kind of flaky and sometimes a little too caught up in herself. At least, that’s the way I remember her. I haven’t seen her since college graduation.” She twisted her hands together in her lap. “Kari was a young mom. She had Noelle when she was eighteen. Noelle’s dad was eight years older, and he was a good influence on Kari, according to Noelle, but he died when Noelle was eleven. After that Kari went off the rails. She was depressed. She drank too much. She brought home different men, some who weren’t so great. She was always late picking us up when it was her turn to drive us somewhere. It used to make my mom crazy. Eventually, she stopped letting Kari do any of the pick-ups or drop-offs. She just didn’t trust her.”
“That must have been rough on Noelle.”
“It was hard at times, but on the flip side, Noelle had no restrictions whatsoever. Kari looked at Noelle like she was a friend, not a daughter, so Noelle had no curfew, no mom
worrying about where she was or asking too many questions. Noelle got into a lot of trouble in high school.”
“Did she take you down with her?”
“No. I tended to bail when things got dicey. She usually had other friends who were willing to keep up with her.”
“It sounds like you were complete opposites.”
“We were. But despite how different we were, we really had a bond. We told each other everything when we were kids. We were like sisters.” She paused. “When Noelle came back into my life this year, I was wary, but I was also happy, because I’d really missed her. I don’t think I’ve ever been as honest with anyone as I was with her. She knew all my bad stuff, all my quirks, and I knew all of hers—or I used to. Now, it feels like I didn’t know anything about her. I want to find out what happened, Wyatt. I want to get justice for her. But I’m also a little afraid of what we’re going to learn.”
Wyatt gave her an understanding nod. “I get that. The truth is we never really know anyone, even when we think we do. Everyone has a secret, something no one else knows.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“Isn’t it?” he challenged.
“Well, I know you have secrets, and you’re very private, but I feel like my life is pretty open.”
“But you’re not involved with anyone. You live alone. Who’s to know if you eat a pint of mocha almond fudge out of the carton after midnight?”
“It would not be mocha almond fudge, probably strawberry swirl or cookie dough,” she said, knowing Wyatt was trying to lighten the mood. “But I wouldn’t worry about hiding that from someone. I’m not single because I have an ice cream addiction; I just haven’t met the right person.”
“Maybe you’re too busy looking up at the stars,” he suggested.
She rolled her eyes at that comment. “Have you been talking to my mother? That’s her favorite thing to say. I’ve been building a career. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Dangerous To Love Page 42
