Secret Bodyguard

by B. J Daniels

  The bastard. “I met a friend,” she said and waited for J.B. to ask the friend’s name and if he knew her. When he didn’t, she knew he’d had the chauffeur, of all people, follow her. That was a new low, even for her father.

  “I hope you had Jesse take you in the car,” he said, killing any question in her mind. Why did anything her father do still shock her?

  “No, actually, I drove the BMW.”

  He raised a brow. “Not the Mercedes convertible I got you for your birthday?”

  She felt her heart rate quicken. Why did he care which car she took unless—She felt sick. Had he put some sort of tracking device on the Mercedes? Or had he wanted her to use it because it was parked in the garage near the chauffeur’s quarters?

  “I just felt like driving the BMW,” she managed to reply. “For old times’ sake.”

  He nodded, still watching her, reminding her of when she was a child and he suspected she was lying. “I don’t like the idea of you going out alone. Not after what happened with Susannah—” He stopped, his gaze boring into her. “I couldn’t bear it if anything were to happen to you.”

  She felt a chill, his words a warning she couldn’t ignore. She had betrayed him once. She was not to do it again.

  “Don’t worry,” she said quietly. “I am always very careful.” Now she would be even more careful. “But if it makes you feel better, I will have Jesse drive me.”

  That seemed to satisfy him. At least temporarily. He patted her shoulder. He didn’t ask her anything else about tonight. Obviously he already knew. Damn Jesse Brock.

  “You didn’t ask if I’d received a ransom note yet,” he said, catching her off guard.

  “Have you?” she asked, sounding breathless, sounding scared.

  “No,” he said studying her. “Odd isn’t it? Unless Susannah has been kidnapped for some other reason.”

  “What other reasons are there besides money and power?” she asked.

  He smiled at that. “None, that I can think of. But don’t you worry, my dear, I will get my granddaughter back. One way or the other.”

  Trembling at the certainty she heard in his voice, she kissed her father’s cheek and left him to finish his drink alone, acutely aware that he was suspicious of her comings and goings. Hopefully he just thought she was meeting Gage Ferraro behind his back. That was much safer than the truth.

  She hurried up to her room, not turning on the light as she went to the window. The darkness smelled of hyacinths, the air sweet and sweltering. She closed the curtains and went into the bathroom where she’d long ago disabled the surveillance camera.

  Still shaking, she pulled out the equipment she would need, then pushed it back into its hiding place. Not tonight. No matter what Gage said. It was too dangerous. Tomorrow night. Her last chance. She’d do it then.

  Her heart beat faster. If she failed tomorrow night—

  She refused to consider that possibility. Too much was at stake. Tomorrow night. Come hell or high water. Or even Jesse Brock.

  Across the courtyard, the light glowed in his apartment and she could see him moving behind the curtains, a shadow as dark as the man himself.

  With a lot of luck and every ounce of deceitful Crowe blood that ran through her veins, she would see that no one ever found out what had really happened to her baby, especially her father. Jesse Brock didn’t know it yet, but he was going to help her. It would be his last good deed.

  * * *

  THE PHONE RANG, making Jesse jump. He stopped pacing and reached for it, expecting the worst.

  “Bring my car around,” J.B. ordered and hung up.

  Jesse looked at the clock, instantly uneasy. J.B. seldom went out this late. And yet, Jesse had been expecting trouble. Amanda had obviously told her father that he’d followed her tonight and now the old man wanted to go for a ride. Great.

  Jesse figured he had two options: Run. Or stay and tough it out. In which case, he wanted to take a weapon. But he knew that would be the wrong thing to do. If one of J.B.’s goons frisked him…No, it would be better to play it straight. Even when the old man got around to asking Jesse about earlier tonight.

  He took a breath and let it out slowly, then he went to get the car.

  As he pulled up in front of the house, J.B. came out with his two bodyguards, two big bruisers with pug faces and bad attitudes whom Jesse had nicknamed Death and Destruction. It was no secret that neither man liked him. Probably because Jesse had been able to gain J.B.’s trust so quickly.

  It had been a simple setup. Wait until Amanda and her father got out of their car at J.B.’s favorite restaurant. Add one speeding, out-of-control car and a chauffeur waiting by his boss’s car who just happened to be able to jump in at the right moment and save the damsel in distress.

  Shocked and grateful, Crowe had played right into his hands. He’d hired Jesse away from his “former” boss with a substantial raise and the rest was history. The almost hit-and-run had happened so fast Death and Destruction hadn’t even had a chance to move, something Crowe had never let them forget. They’d hated Jesse ever since.

  Jesse got out of the large, freshly waxed and polished Lincoln to open the back door for his boss. Death, the slimmer of the two, slid in, followed by J.B., then Destruction. Not one of them even gave Jesse a second glance.

  As he closed the door and went around to the driver’s seat, he wondered if that was a bad sign. With men who would kill him without a moment’s hesitation behind him, he began to sweat as he waited for instructions.

  “Johnson Park,” J.B. ordered.

  Jesse shifted into gear and got the car moving, not liking the sound of this. Johnson Park was an old industrial area outside of Dallas that had been closed for a good twenty years, maybe more. Not a good place to go this time of the night. It was the kind of place you could dispose of a body too easily.

  Prolonging the trip was out of the question. Traffic was light and Johnson Park wasn’t far. He drove, acutely aware of the men in the back seat and the position he’d put himself in.

  When he slowed for the park, he glanced in his rearview mirror and wished he hadn’t. The old man met his gaze and what Jesse saw there turned his blood to block ice.

  He pulled into the park. The night was black, no stars, no moon, only an occasional unbroken street-light along the long rows of abandoned warehouses. He drove to the end of the row J.B. indicated and stopped, turned off the lights and killed the engine, unconsciously holding his breath, waiting for the distinct sound of the slide on a weapon being readied.

  “Stay here,” the mobster ordered him as the two goons opened their doors and J.B. slid out of the car.

  Inside the dark stillness of the car, Jesse released the breath he’d been holding, his relief so intense he felt sick to his stomach. He took a few long breaths and tried to quiet his banging heart. That had felt too close. And he still wasn’t out of the woods.

  It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. A single bulb burned in a building off to his right, in the same direction J.B. and the two bodyguards had gone. A dark-colored Cadillac was parked at the edge of the building.

  What the hell were they doing out here at this time of the night? And, although he didn’t recognize the Cadillac, he had a bad feeling it had something to do with him.

  After a few moments, he cautiously popped open his door and slipped out, closing it quietly behind him. As he moved through the darkness toward the light, he heard J.B.’s voice raised in anger. He crept along the side of the building, following the sound. Above him he could see a broken, dirty window. Cautiously, he climbed up onto a pile of old crates and peered in through the opening in the glass. He could see nothing but shadows and dark shapes off to the left but he could hear J.B. still talking.

  “You’re telling me that you didn’t know this guy you saw her with?” J.B. demanded, his tone hard enough to crack concrete.

  “I told you, I didn’t get a good look at him. It was dark. It was an alley for hell’s sake and I had
to get out of there or Amanda would have seen me watching her.” The voice had a distinct whine to it. A very familiar whine.

  “What I don’t understand is what you were doing there in the first place,” J.B. said evenly.

  “Look, I leveled with you. I’m going to find your granddaughter for you. Nothing’s changed. The only reason I called you was to let you know what I’d seen. As a favor. So what is this all about, getting me down here tonight, interrogating me like this?” Gage Ferraro demanded.

  Gage had seen Jesse and Amanda in the alley earlier. That much was clear. But if Amanda had told her father about her encounter with Jesse, this should have been old news. Unless she hadn’t told him. Yet.

  “I just want to make sure your plans don’t change,” the mobster warned. “I don’t want you having anything to do with my daughter. Or my granddaughter.”

  “Hey, we’re talking about my daughter, here,” Gage said. The soft scuff of soles on the concrete drowned out whatever J.B. said back to him.

  Suddenly all four men came into view beneath the stark light of the single bulb hanging from the rafters.

  Destruction had Gage in a headlock and J.B. was close enough to Gage to steal his breath.

  “You have no rights to that child,” J.B. said in a tone that curdled Jesse’s blood. “I thought we agreed to that?”

  Gage was trying to nod.

  “As far as I’m concerned,” J.B. was saying, his voice low and as dangerous as Jesse had ever heard it, “you have no daughter and you don’t know mine, either. Is that understood?”

  “Yeah, yeah, J.B.,” Gage croaked.

  Destruction released him.

  Gage rubbed his throat. “I told you,” he said, sounding hoarse. “I’m going to do this for you. As a favor. That’s all.”

  J.B. nodded. “Let’s hope for your sake you’re telling me the truth.”

  Gage looked worried.

  J.B. patted Gage on the face. “Find my granddaughter.” The mobster turned and walked toward the door, but stopped at the sound of his cell phone ringing. He motioned for Death and Destruction to go on ahead of him with Gage, then reached in his pocket and pulled out the phone.

  “Yes?” he barked, then listened. “You got Diana? Does Kincaid know yet? Good.” He smiled as he snapped the phone shut and put it back in his pocket. “So now Governor, I have your daughter and soon to be born grandchild. How does it feel?”

  Jesse winced as if he’d been kicked in the stomach. Crowe had kidnapped the governor’s daughter, Diana. The governor’s pregnant daughter.

  He swore under his breath and he jumped down from the crate and ran along the edge of the building. He knew how dangerous it would be for Diana and her unborn baby to be taken in retaliation for Susannah’s kidnapping.

  There was no love lost between J. B. Crowe and Governor Thomas Kincaid, not since the governor had declared war on the mob in Texas. But Jesse suspected there was something else between J.B. and Thomas, something more personal.

  Hurriedly, Jesse ran along the edge of the building. He could see the Lincoln and knew he couldn’t reach it in time. Nor could he let Gage see him again.

  Jesse stopped at the corner of the building, caught. He watched as Gage went straight to the dark-colored Caddy. The driver hopped out as if surprised to see Gage back so soon. It was obvious he’d been asleep, Jesse realized with silent thanks. There was a good chance the driver hadn’t seen Jesse get out of the Lincoln then.

  Gage climbed into the back of his Cadillac and the driver closed the door.

  J.B. stood with Death and Destruction as if waiting for Gage to leave. Gage looked as if he couldn’t wait to get away as his driver climbed back into the front of the car and started it.

  Forgetting about Gage, Jesse considered the spot he found himself in. There wasn’t any way he could get to the Lincoln without J.B. seeing him. For a moment, he actually considered just taking off and not looking back.

  But blowing his own cover now, when he was so close, wasn’t his style. He’d bluffed his way into the chauffeur job, he could bluff his way through this. He hoped.

  Gage’s driver gave the Caddy a little too much gas as he left. Jesse saw J.B. smile in the glare of the Cadillac’s headlights. About then, however, J.B. seemed to notice that his own driver wasn’t at his post, and the smile faded.

  Jesse ambled out from the dark edge of the building and walked leisurely toward the Lincoln.

  “I thought I told you to stay in the car?” J.B.’s voice sounded at once suspicious and furious.

  “I had to take a leak,” Jesse snapped and moved ahead of the mobster to open his door. He could feel J.B.’s gaze on him and looked up to meet the man’s dark eyes without flinching. It took all his nerve.

  J.B. held his gaze for a long heart-stopping moment, then he shook his head as if in disgust or disbelief, and slid into the back seat. It’s so hard to get good help these days, Jesse thought sarcastically.

  Death slid in beside the mobster and Destruction strutted around to the other side, giving Jesse a smug grin that hinted that he was looking forward to the day that he got to kill Jesse.

  Jesse had made it a point to never be cowed by J.B., but it was getting harder and harder not to let the mobster see him sweat.

  “Home,” J.B. ordered the moment Jesse slipped into the driver’s seat.

  Still shaking inside, he gripped the wheel and drove. He didn’t dare look in the rearview mirror again. No one said a word from the back seat.

  Jesse tried to relax but he couldn’t forget how close he’d come to having his cover blown. Gage Ferraro had seen him talking to Amanda in the alley earlier. Fortunately, Gage hadn’t gotten a good look at him.

  But now Jesse wasn’t sure how long his luck would hold. It seemed he and Gage were looking for the same thing. Amanda’s baby, Susannah. And even if, as Jesse suspected, Gage was lying through his teeth to Crowe, their paths were bound to cross again. And it was just a matter of time before Gage recognized Jesse as the cop who’d arrested him for drug possession three years ago.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The phone rang early the next morning, jerking Jesse from a not so sound sleep.

  J.B.’s deep voice filled the line. “I won’t be needing your services today but should Amanda want to go anywhere, I want you to take her. I don’t want her driving herself. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir,” he said, heart pounding.

  “By the way, I appreciate you keeping an eye on my daughter last night when she went out again.”

  He swore softly under his breath and sat up, suddenly wide awake. “Yes?”

  But J.B. hung up without another word, leaving Jesse off balance. Had Amanda told him just as Jesse and Dylan had known she would? Or had J.B. just figured it out from what Gage had reported to him? The guard at the gate hadn’t been at his post but the surveillance cameras would have picked up both Amanda—and Jesse right behind her. Still, Crowe couldn’t know that Jesse had followed Amanda to the café.

  Either way, it did not bode well. But why would J.B. order him to drive Amanda? Why didn’t J.B. fire him? Or have him killed? And why hadn’t he asked him to report back on where Amanda went? Maybe J.B. had Gage for that. Or at least J.B. thought he did.

  One false move, Jesse knew, and he was toast. Who was he kidding? His cover could already be blown wide-open. He could be living on borrowed time and just not know it. J.B. was probably setting him up. Giving him enough rope to hang himself.

  He shook his head, amazed at the spot he found himself in this morning. Right between Amanda and her old man, a very dangerous place to be.

  But in the meantime… He tried to still his racing heart. Amanda couldn’t leave the Crowe estate without him. He couldn’t help but grin, thinking how furious that must make her. Would she be angry enough to finally show her hand? He could only hope.

  While he knew he could be walking into a trap J.B. had laid for him, Jesse still felt pretty cocky as he headed for the shower. T
his might prove to be just the break he’d been waiting for. If he was right, and Amanda and Gage had done something with the baby, then she must be running scared now that her father had people spying on her. She’d try to cover her tracks. She’d slip up. And when she did, Jesse would be there to nail her. So to speak.

  He drowned that thought in a cold shower, disgusted with himself because of his body’s reaction to the woman. Afterward, he called the main house to let Amanda know he’d be available to drive her and maybe to rub it in a little. He could only assume that she’d tried to get him fired. Or killed. And had failed. At least temporarily. He was feeling pretty pleased about that.

  But he couldn’t get his call past the housekeeper. Ms. Crowe, Eunice said, wasn’t up yet.

  He polished several of J. B. Crowe’s fleet of expensive cars, watching for any sign of life behind Amanda’s closed curtains. None.

  As he worked, he found his thoughts divided between worrying that Amanda might have found a way to sneak out without him noticing, and trying to make sense of the newspaper clipping that had been slipped under his door last night. It had to have been someone inside the estate who’d given it to him. He ticked off the few hired help who lived on the premises.

  Not the tiny, gray-haired Eunice Fox who’d been with the Crowe family for years. Nor Consuela Ruiz, the family cook. Nor the gardener, a withered, little old man named Malcolm Hines, who had been one of J.B.’s first bodyguards.

  Jesse couldn’t imagine any of them being disloyal to J.B. or any member of his family. And not just for fear of their lives. That left only Death and Destruction, but Jesse doubted either of them even knew how to read.

  So who did that leave? J.B. Not likely. And Amanda.

  Jesse called the house again after lunch.

  “Ms. Crowe isn’t up,” Eunice informed him in a tone that dared him to insinuate that it wasn’t Amanda’s right to sleep all day if she so desired. He knew the housekeeper had been up for hours working and wondered how she could be so protective of such a spoiled, young woman who had never worked a day in her life and no doubt ever would.