Did Bethany have a similar view? How would it feel to see so many wonderful opportunities for a fulfilling life and yet, unable to take one?
He couldn’t help wanting to protect Bethany. From herself, her father or anyone else that came along.
Declan guessed it to be the White-Knight syndrome. Even as a young man he’d stepped up to the plate to help with Riley and then later as a tactical operations specialist.
Bethany Bennett was clearly in need of saving and not just of the man who would have her killed. No, Beth needed someone to save her from her ivory tower.
He had to stop thinking about Bethany. For starters, she couldn’t be further out of his league, she had an inheritance of several million—if not billions if you added in her father’s shipping business—while he wore cheap suits and drank beer on his old worn out couch which needed reupholstering or just plain throwing out. Then there was the fact that she was young enough to be his daughter—well not quite but there was a nine-year gap.
She was in her twenties, the time for parties and drinking, waking up in unknown places while he was skyrocketing into his mid-thirties where his nightly activities consisted of showering and sitting on his couch watching TV. There had never been two people more unsuited for one another.
But that didn’t stop him wanting her though. It would help if he had known she didn’t want him but he had caught the side glances and occasional expression that told him she very much wanted to strip him raw and have her way with him.
Declan reached down and readjusted himself, before turning his attention to his aching shoulder, rotating it, stretching out the damaged tendons.
He couldn’t drum up any optimism that his test results would come back positive. A wave of regret and anger hit him in the stomach and his muscles bunched, shifted. Burned.
He needed a distraction. Both Bethany and his current medical state would drive him crazy if he allowed himself to dwell on them.
He dialled Hawke’s number. “What have you found out?"
“Hey, Dec. Good timing, I was just about to call you.”
“You learn something about who’s after blood?”
“Sorry, no. What I did find is still interesting though. Did you know Bethany’s mother, Charlene Smith was listed as a person of interest in several armed bank robberies in the mid-eighties?”
Huh, he wouldn’t have guessed that. Now if Hawke had said that about Dirk Bennett he wouldn’t have been surprised. “No, though that may explain the property. Bethany mentioned the story is Charlene inherited from an aunt.”
He couldn’t help be intrigued about the woman who had brought Bethany into the world.
“That wasn’t all I discovered. Get ready for this. The cases are all closed. Of the three suspected robbers, only one was charged and convicted—Caitlyn Buchanan.”
Caitlyn Buchanan? No, it couldn’t be.
“Buchanan?”
“Her maiden name. She later became Harris. The judge gave her ten years because of the use of a weapon, despite the arresting officer learning no bullets were ever used. The gun’s chamber was only ever filled with old gunpowder.”
It was clever. The gunpowder when discharged would explode like a gunshot and be effective in intimidating people into complying.
He’d never seen Caitlyn as the law-breaking type. Especially since she’d been married to the LAC’s former superintendent for over twenty years.
“Not what I expected.”
“That’s not all. Guess who the arresting officer was? Alec Harris. It was the case that helped him get promoted to detective.”
And he ended up marrying the woman he put away.
Had she taken the fall for someone else? Someone like Charlene Smith? The two were close. It was possible.
“I dug deeper,” Hawke continued, breaking into his thoughts. “A few months before Bethany was born, Charlene received immunity on all her suspected cases.”
Declan pondered that. Sometime, twenty-five years ago, someone with a lot of clout had needed something bad from Charlene Bennett to offer her such a deal. “Are there any notes as to why?”
“None, and as far as I can determine, there was nothing she could’ve possibly offered that would’ve been sufficient in exchange for immunity.”
“Unless it was someone else who had the goods.”
Caitlyn?
“It’s possible. But whatever it was, there’s no record of it. Do you want me to learn more?”
He slid off the bed and stepped out onto the balcony. Tree branches swayed in the cool breeze, carrying the scent of ocean brine up the hill. He leaned his arms against the railing. Lights twinkled in the town below and every so often he could hear the waves crashing onto the shore.
“Nah. I doubt it has any bearing with the threats.”
“How is it going over there?”
“Slowly. I can’t wait till Bennett is back and I can leave.”
Except what the hell would he do? Sit at home, contemplating the ugly state of his career?
As much as he hadn’t liked his role in the beginning, it had kept him from drinking himself into a stupor. He had a purpose.
“Just be thankful it’s not one of the Copeland daughters. They’re a wild bunch. Not a week goes by that I don’t see their names in the press. Come to think of it. I don’t recall Miss Bennett’s name ever published unless as a by-line to something involving Bennett or his company.”
No, Bethany had surprised him and continued to do so.
He still didn’t quite understand her reasons for staying under such a heavy thumb, but she was becoming more a person than he wanted to admit.
“Is that everything or is there more?”
“I also took the liberty of checking into the employees at the house. Nothing jumped out. All three have been with the Bennetts for almost thirty years, Charlene Bennett inherited them with the house when she bought it.”
“That makes sense. Bethany said earlier they were like family.”
“Poor kid, those who say the rich have it all don’t have a clue what they’re talking about. You keep her safe, man. She’s an innocent in all this.”
Declan agreed. No man was going to touch Beth on his watch.
“I also checked out your Ms. Bennett like you asked. Nothing to note. Like I said before she only appears in searches on her father. She certainly keeps a low profile.”
Hawke didn’t know the half of it.
“There was one thing though. When she turned nine, her father pulled her from school and hired an ex-army major as a tutor.”
Rather extreme but then Dirk Bennett seemed to always have a hidden agenda.
He thanked Hawke, his body relaxing knowing Bethany wouldn’t be doing anything too foolish while in his care.
Now he just had to ensure he didn’t.
Chapter 10
Declan moved his body deftly in a way no man his size should be able. Bethany rocked back and forth on the bench swing. She’d long ago given up the pretence of trying to read while he went through his routine.
No one could concentrate with his muscles bunching and flexing with each new movement. She hadn’t been able to look away.
The winter sun heated the earth, the air muggy from the rain the night before.
Her breathing sped up and her body tingled in foreign places. Desire coursed through her, heating her skin and tormenting her with promises until she was on edge and grew tenser by the minute.
As she studied him, she noticed his actions were sharp. Precise. Lethal. He had confidence in his steps. The ability to make each attack count.
She leaned forward. “What did you do before this?”
“I’m an officer for the Tactical Operations Unit. Least I was.”
Unease had her muscles clenching. She had an idea she wouldn’t like the answer to her next question.
“So, what is a tactical operations officer doing playing bodyguard?”
Bethany didn’t even know what a tactical operati
ons officer was, or did. Something told her the job could be dangerous.
“I’m only doing this while I recover from a gunshot wound.”
She sucked in a deep breath, as a band squeezed her heart. “You were shot?”
Bethany tried not to imagine Declan hurt, bleeding but the image came to her anyway. She wanted nothing more than to hug him and tell him everything was going to be all right. She almost scoffed aloud at the stupidness of that desire. He was obviously fine now and she doubted he would appreciate her trying to save him.
Her throat worked, almost afraid to ask. “H-how did it happen?”
“Have you heard of the Novel Killer?”
Who hadn’t? The Tribute had reported the capture of the serial killer a month and a half ago. His trial date had yet to be set but it was clear from the reports that everyone knew he was guilty and then there was the evidence. Not only had he kidnapped a woman but he had recorded the whole thing to apparently put up on the Internet. She suddenly remembered reading about the officer who had been shot during the woman’s rescue. It had been a close call.
“He shot you.”
“The woman he kidnapped was my sister. He’d stalked and tormented Riley with his sick novels but in the end, she fought like a wildcat until we got there.”
Pride laced his voice.
The smallish knot in her stomach expanded. The bundle of concern for him gnawed at her insides.
“When will you be fit for duty?”
Declan fell silent. For a moment she didn’t think he was going to answer. She was about to ask him another question when he startled her by answering.
“Maybe never, I’ve lost over twenty percent of the functionality of my arm. Good enough for me but not good enough for putting me in the high-risk situations that my job demands.”
She sensed it killed him to admit that. Declan was the type of man who was born to do only one thing and now it seemed that was being taken away from him. She could sympathise.
Also, it explained his dislike of his task of guarding her. She had to be a constant reminder of the changes in his life.
“What are you going to do if you can’t go back?”
Declan shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m not cut out for a desk job.”
“You could go into security. You’re not so bad at this protector stuff. Not when you lose the attitude, but if that’s not your thing, you could always just beef up people’s existing systems like you did here. The world is changing. The market open to all kinds of businesses.”
She couldn’t say why the idea thrilled her. But each word out of her mouth had her spirit lifting and her skin practically hummed from excitement. She’d always wanted to open a proper business and watch it grow. It must be the Bennett genes.
“I can help. We can…”
“Whoa…hold on.” He held his hands to form a capital T. “I’m not making any decisions just yet, and when I do…”
Everything crashed around her. Her previous joy lost. Blood rushed to her ears.
“What? You don’t want some silly twit around?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. His expression would almost be comical had her heart not just done a nosedive. His gaze searched hers. “That’s not—”
Standing, she took a step so she could stare up into his eyes.
“Do you know what money buys, Declan? An education. Intelligence gets you a business degree and if my father wasn’t a chauvinist a well-earned position within his company. But he is.” Her hard gaze drilled into him. “What do you think I do all day? Shop? Read the latest gossip rags? I work. Granted my web design isn’t a Fortune 500 company and would barely scrap in enough to live on but I have a good reputation and I achieved it all on my own which makes it ten times more valuable.”
Her fist slammed against her chest twice during her declaration. To her further embarrassment, her eyes watered. She looked away, afraid he’d see how much he’d hurt her. She knew she would never be able to forget his quick dismissal of her. A slap to her face would’ve been kinder.
“I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Well, you did. You and everyone else who can’t see my worth.”
Did he really believe her to be so simple, that all she cared about was shopping?
She was just a job to him. Why would he possibly care to learn more about her? He wouldn’t stick around longer than it took to cash her father’s cheque. Bethany had never felt more alone, more betrayed than she did right now and every bit of injustice in her life was directed at him. She’d thought perhaps they were becoming friends, or at least finding a common ground.
“Bethany…”
When he tried to touch her, she sidestepped him. Bethany shrugged, pretending indifference. She always seemed to be getting hurt by the ones she cared about.
Why was it so important to her that Declan see beyond her money to the woman she was and could be beneath the surface?
It really didn’t matter. In a couple of weeks, Declan would be gone from her life and she knew he wouldn’t think about her again. But she would think about him—and dream about him for the rest of her life.
“It doesn’t matter.”
A part of her gave up. Despite having more money than she could spend in a lifetime, she’d never had the things she truly wanted. Love. A career. A kiss. Dammit, why couldn’t she just once get what seemed so simple to everyone else? Was she that horrible of a person?
A tear escaped. Her turbulent emotions no longer under wraps.
“It does. Especially to you.”
He tilted her chin so he could see her face. His thumb grazed over her cheek, smearing the droplet.
“I don’t doubt you are a dedicated, hardworking woman. And I’m truly sorry for upsetting you. I’m often careless with my words and what you took from them were not my intent.”
Declan’s hand slid down her throat, causing her pulse to leap. He stopped at her shoulder. His free hand settled on her opposite shoulder. Using light force, he turned her until they stood facing each other.
“I have no idea where my life is heading. I can barely imagine a life without TOU. It’s one of the things I’m most afraid of.”
A breath shuddered out. “What are the other things?”
His gaze searched her eyes. “Losing Riley. Losing you.”
Her heart tripped.
“You’re an amazing woman, please don’t let others opinions of you get you down. Only what you think matters. But if mine is important to you, know that I see you, the woman with a heart of gold and not the princess.”
Her mouth twisted in a lop-sided smile. He may have shattered her but he’d done a brilliant job putting her back together.
She gripped in his shirt, twisting the fabric with her fists. She brought him closer, needing the feel him, to know he was real. Releasing one fist she trailed her hand up the stone he called a chest and rested her palm above the solid thump of his heart. Strong. Caring. Capable. Gorgeous. Declan O’Neill was the whole package. Except, problem was he wasn’t hers and would never be. Beth forced herself to step back, her hands dropping to her sides. Declan stared at her, his eyebrows drawn together.
“Beth…”
His eyes hardened in an instant and he pushed her behind him. His head moved as he took in a panoramic of the estate without revealing her to whatever threat he sensed. His body had tensed, his demeanour no longer soft and apologetic. This was Declan, tactical operations officer and something about this new side both frightened and thrilled her.
“Go into the house and lock the door. Stay there till I come back. Go.”
His tone sent her feet in motion. She doubted many would try to argue when his voice became a thread of steel. She stumbled in her haste, quickly righting herself as she travelled across the lawn like she had on Declan’s first day. Only this time, Quinn wasn’t there to witness the door slamming, or her twisting the lock.
Instinct had her backing away from the door and windows. Her nails cut into her
palm and she chewed on her thumbnail while she waited for Declan’s return. Seconds seemed like hours until he tapped on the door. Her stomach lurched while her heart beat kicked into overdrive.
She let him in. “What did you find?”
“Someone has been casing the perimeter. Recently too. I found track marks. They weren’t there the other day.”
A hot pulse shot through her belly. His words sounded as though he shouted through a long tunnel. They blurred together, so softly spoken she couldn’t distinguish them.
“Are you okay?”
Her knees gave out and she crumbled, thankfully a chair was there to catch her.
“I’m fine. It’s just hitting me you know. That someone wants me dead. Until now it hasn’t been real.”
Declan knelt in front of her and took her hands. He squeezed gently as he held her gaze.
“You have nothing to fear, Beth. Nothing. I promise you, I’ll keep you safe.”
Her cheeks became wet. “I just want this to be some horrible nightmare. Surely this can’t be my life.”
He pulled her against him, her head dropped to his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her, giving her protection and comfort as she let out her fear in loud, ugly sobs.
Chapter 11
Amelia joined her old unit in the conference room. She sank down in a seat across from Matt Murphy, James Hawke, and Dean Matthews. The fourth member of the team, Darryl Hill who’d married her best friend, Kellie was currently on paternity leave for their second child.
The heady scent of man filled the small space, almost intoxicating in its potency. Raindrops rolled down the exterior window from the dreary drizzle outside. Her eyes narrowed on a watermark which marred the faded cream wall.
The two-hundred-year-old building housing the LAC, in downtown Harbour Bay had once been home to third fleet convicts, then abandoned until the eighties when it had been converted for the town’s ever-growing police force.
“We have a problem. We’ll all be joined shortly by someone from SCIA. Apparently, a case of yours has collided with one of theirs.”
All three detectives frowned. Amelia couldn’t blame them. SCIA left a bad taste in everybody’s mouth. Special Crimes and Internal Affairs was the most hated unit of the whole force which occupied the top floor of the LAC building. She herself had been investigated by an officer of theirs—her best friend, Kellie—at one time, before her rise to Superintendent. She had been unfairly reported as being too rough with her tactics. She, however, had not seen it that way.
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