Downright Dangerous

by Beverly Barton

  "Who's the newbie?"

  "A Brit named Geoff Monday. I worked with him per­sonally on Ellen Denby's last assignment. The guy's for­mer SAS, and he headed up a team of mercenaries for a few years after he retired."

  "I wouldn't think he'd need to get his feet wet."

  Sawyer chuckled. "He needs some experience on a non-military assignment."

  "Got it," Rafe said. "Then by all means, send him. But remind him he'll be guarding a twenty-year-old kid." Rafe concluded his conversation with Sawyer, stuck his cell phone back on the belt clip and turned to Elsa. "Every­thing is set. By tonight, Milly, Sherrie and Troy will have their own personal bodyguards."

  "I wish Frank or Kate would call and tell us that they've located Troy."

  "Stop worrying. Troy's fine." Rafe hoped he sounded convincing. He figured there was a good chance Elsa's brother was okay; but there was always the possibility that he'd run into foul play.

  The Bauer Academy was located in downtown Mem­phis, in the medical district. A renovated building housed the home for people of all ages who had mental handicaps, such as Milly's. Set up dormitory style, each person shared a room with someone on their mental level. Milly Leone, a pretty, dark-haired, dark-eyed sixteen-year-old reminded Rafe a great deal of Elsa, despite the physical differences the girl's Downs's syndrome made in her appearance. The family resemblance between the two was stronger than be­tween Troy and Elsa.

  The moment they entered the neat fourteen-by-fourteen room, Milly jumped up from where she'd been sitting watching television with the uniformed policewoman whose name badge read G. Trott. The girl raced toward Elsa, who opened her arms and gave her little sister a bear hug.

  "How are you, Silly-Milly?" Elsa asked as she slipped her arm around the petite girl's waist and led her over so they could sit on the edge of Milly's bed, side by side.

  "I'm fine," Milly replied, her speech remarkably fluid for someone with her mental handicap. Rafe had studied the girl's file that detailed her life in a couple of para­graphs. Milly had the mental abilities of a typical six-year-old and practically from birth had been totally Elsa's re­sponsibility.

  Rafe figured the Bauer Academy didn't come cheap, and even with some sort of scholarship, the yearly cost was no doubt five figures. His guess was somewhere around thirty thousand. Maybe more. That meant a great deal of Elsa's salary went to keeping her sister in a private institution instead of a state-run facility.

  Rafe nodded to the police officer, indicating he wanted to speak to her privately. She followed him when he mo­tioned toward the hallway.

  "Elsa, we'll leave you and Milly alone for a few minutes," Rafe said, as he opened the door.

  "Who's he?" Milly's gaze focused on Rafe.

  "That's my friend, Rafe Devlin," Elsa replied, her arm around her sister's slender shoulders. "He came with me today to see you."

  "Is he your boyfriend?" Milly asked. "Elsa needs a boyfriend." When she looked at Rafe, her mouth widened into a broad, infectious smile. Rafe smiled back at Milly. "I've got a boyfriend. His name is Jimmy and we eat lunch together every day. I told him he could call me Silly-Milly."

  Elsa squeezed Milly's shoulder. "I met Jimmy the last time I visited you. Remember? I joined y'all for lunch."

  Milly's head bobbed up and down. "I remember." She narrowed her gaze, studying Rafe. "Is he your boy­friend?"

  "He's my friend," Elsa repeated.

  "Then he must be a boyfriend. 'Cause he's a boy and he's a friend."

  "Milly's got you there." Hitching his thumb to indicate the direction, Rafe said, "We'll be right outside." He looked at Milly. "When I come back, I want you to show me around your school. And I want to meet Jimmy."

  Milly's wide grin touched Rafe's heart. And truth be told, not much did these days. But she was such a sweet child. And that's exactly what she was. No matter her age, Milly would remain a child the rest of her life.

  Once in the hallway, the officer introduced herself. ' 'Of­ficer Ginger Trott." She held out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Devlin."

  Rafe shook her hand and spoke to her quietly. "Nice to meet you, too." Never good at pleasantries, he quickly got to the business at hand. "I have a private bodyguard on her way here. She should arrive soon, but until she shows up, we'll need you to remain here. I figure the funeral wreath Milly received was simply a warning to Elsa, but we can't take any chances."

  "I understand, Mr. Devlin. Chief McGraw arranged for me to take the first shift and then if your agent isn't here by the end of my shift, he'll replace me with another po­licewoman. Milly's a really precious person. What kind of monster would threaten someone like her?''

  "How long have you been in law enforcement?" Rafe asked.

  "Six months. I guess my rookie status is showing, huh?"

  Rafe patted her on the shoulder. "Just a little." He grunted. "And to answer your question about what sort of person would threaten a mentally handicapped child— someone without a conscience and probably without a soul."

  "That's a very philosophical answer."

  Rafe's cell phone rang. "Excuse me." He retrieved the phone, hit the On button and identified himself.

  "Devlin, this is Lieutenant Carnes, MPD. The chief wanted me to report in to you about that funeral wreath sent to the Leone kid."

  "So, what did you find out?"

  "Nothing much. The delivery was made by River City Flower Box. The sales clerk who took the order said the order was placed in person by a woman who paid in cash."

  "Can she ID the woman?"

  "Medium everything. Height, weight. Age between twenty-five and thirty-five. Dark sunglasses and probably wearing a wig."

  "Dead end."

  "Yeah, I'd say so."

  "Anything else?" Rafe asked.

  "Sorry, nothing."

  "Thanks, anyway." Rafe hit the Off button and returned his phone to the belt clip. The report had been what he'd expected. No real clues. They weren't dealing with ama­teurs.

  Elsa and Rafe spent the day at the Bauer Academy. Milly gave them the grand tour, showing them all the classrooms, the gymnasium, the swimming pool and the lunchroom. At noon they shared hamburgers and fries with Milly and Jimmy, who was a cute seventeen-year-old boy whom Elsa had met on her previous visit. When she'd asked the supervisor about Jimmy, she'd been told that his IQ was equivalent to Milly's, so the two were like six-year-old sweethearts.

  One of Milly's favorite pastimes was coloring, and Elsa made sure she always had a fresh supply of crayons and coloring books. As Rafe sat beside Milly at her desk, each working on a page in the Barbie doll coloring book, Elsa watched in disbelief. How many men would spend so much time pacifying a childlike teenager and acting as if he were having the time of his life? Her heart caught in her throat as she listened to Rafe and Milly laughing.

  A soft knock sounded on the door. Officer Trott, who'd been standing guard, started to open the door, then looked over her shoulder at Rafe.

  "Who's there?" Officer Trott asked.

  "J. J. Blair, from the Dundee Agency."

  Grinning, Rafe nodded. "Let her in. She's the agent I sent for."

  The policewoman opened the door and a petite brunette entered. Elsa watched as Rafe scooted back his chair, got up and went across the room to greet his fellow agent. An unpleasant feeling settled in Elsa's stomach when Rafe smiled at Ms. J. J. Blair and put his arm around her shoul­der. Until meeting Kate Malone, Elsa had assumed female bodyguards were big, rawboned, mannish women. And al­though Kate was very attractive, she didn't exude sex ap­peal the way J. J. Blair did. Jet-black hair pulled back into a ponytail and a creamy, golden tan were in direct contrast to her large, violet-blue eyes. Although probably no taller than five-two, she possessed a striking, hourglass figure. Full breasts, small waist, round hips. And all 110 pounds of her was encased in black leather pants and matching jacket.

  "Come on over and meet Milly Leone." Rafe led J.J. straight to Milly, who stood up politely and smiled at the newcomer. "Milly t
his is J.J. She's a friend of mine and she's going to be staying with you for a few days. She'll be your new temporary roommate. Is that all right with you?"

  "I guess so." Milly inspected J.J. from head to toe. "You're beautiful."

  J.J. laughed. "You and I are going to get along just fine."

  "Where's Felicia going to stay if JJ.'s going to stay with me?" Milly asked. "Felicia?" J.J. inquired.

  "That's Milly's roommate." Elsa walked over and placed her hand on Milly's shoulder. "Don't you remem­ber, honey, I told you that Felicia is going to room with the new girl who will have a private room later on. Felicia is going to help that girl feel at home here at the Bauer Academy and be a friend to her. Later, Felicia will come back to this room and be your roommate again."

  When Rafe's phone rang, all eyes focused on him. He answered on the third ring. "Devlin here."

  Elsa watched while Rafe listened to whoever was on the other end of the line. "Yeah, thanks, Frank. Keep looking. Check around to see if that other person is missing, too. In the meantime I'll tell Elsa."

  Elsa crossed the room and pulled him into the corner. "What is it?" she asked, afraid Rafe had more bad news.

  "Lucie Evans is with Sherrie now, so we've got that covered," he said quietly. "But Frank hasn't been able to track down Troy. He's been seen today. On campus. But he seems to be one step ahead of Frank."

  "Something's going on with him. It isn't like him not to answer his cell phone when I call."

  "I think he's okay," Rafe said. "So does Frank. We don't think he's been harmed. I'd say something else is up with him. Got any ideas?"

  Elsa shook her head. "Not really. But if he's safe, then I'd say whatever's going on has something to do with Alyssa Alden. Isn't she the other person you asked Frank to check on?''

  An odd expression crossed Rafe's face, one that auto­matically made Elsa suspicious. "You do know something I don't know, don't you?"

  Rafe shrugged.

  "What is it?" Elsa asked.

  "I know he and Alyssa are serious about each other."

  Elsa grasped Rafe's arm tightly. "Have they done some­thing stupid?"

  "Define stupid."

  "Oh, God!"

  "What's wrong, Elsa?" Milly asked from across the room.

  "What? Oh, honey, nothing's wrong."

  Rafe slipped his arm around Elsa's waist as he smiled at Milly. "Elsa and I are going to head back to Maysville pretty soon and we just want to make sure you're going to be okay with J.J. staying with you."

  "Is Ginger staying, too?" Milly eyed the policewoman.

  "No, Ginger is going to leave when we do. She just came to visit for a while," Rafe said.

  J.J. glanced down at the coloring book on the desk. "What's this? A Barbie doll coloring book? I love Barbie dolls. May I color a page with you?"

  Milly, who possessed a very short attention span, grinned as she flipped through the pages of the coloring book. "Here are two pages I haven't colored."

  "Well, what are we waiting for?" J.J. plopped down in the chair Rafe had recently vacated. "While we color, I'll tell you about my Barbie doll collection. I have fifty Barbie dolls."

  "Fifty? Gee, that's more than I have." Milly glanced back at Elsa. "How many do I have? Twenty?"

  "That's right, sweetie, you have twenty."

  While J.J. occupied Milly with tales about her doll col­lection, Rafe, Elsa and Officer Trott exited quietly and made their way down the hall and out into the parking lot. Ginger Trott said goodbye and drove off in her ten-year-old red sports car.

  Elsa hesitated when Rafe and she reached her Honda. "I hate to leave Milly."

  "Milly's in good hands with J.J. Don't let her looks and petite size fool you. J.J.'s a black belt in karate and an expert markswoman. Before she became a Dundee agent, she was a Texas ranger, like her father and grandfather."

  A Texas ranger? Elsa thought. You've got to be kidding. "She's an incredibly beautiful woman, isn't she?"

  "J.J.? Yeah, I suppose she is." He opened the driver's door for Elsa.

  Elsa slid in behind the wheel and buckled up. After Rafe rounded the car, got in on the passenger side and fastened his seat belt, she asked, "Have you two ever dated?'' Oh, that's it, Elsa, come right out and question him about his relationship with J. J. Blair. Show him you care. Give him the idea that you might be jealous. Elsa started the car, backed out of the parking place and headed for the street.

  "J.J. and I are strictly friends. We're both Dundee agents and we've hung out together with some of the other agents, but that's it. Why do you ask?" Rafe cast her a sidelong glance. "Interested in my personal life?"

  "Just curious." While keeping her eyes on the road ahead, Elsa prayed she wasn't blushing.

  "The same way I'm curious about Harry Colburn?"

  "What?'' Elsa felt warmth spread up her neck and touch her cheeks. "If you're implying that I'm jealous of your fellow Dundee agent, then you're wrong. I have no reason to be jealous of her."

  "You're right, you don't have any reason to be jealous of J.J." Rafe reached across the seat to touch Elsa, his big hand softly caressing her arm from elbow to shoulder. "You're a beautiful woman, too. Every bit as sexy as J.J. At least, I think so."

  A strange sound, something between a gasp and a laugh, erupted from Elsa's throat. Why had Rafe's comments af­fected her in such an odd way? She felt downright giddy. He thought she was beautiful. And sexy. Get hold of your­self, Elsa's inner voice demanded. He's flirting with you, seducing you with his good-old-boy charm. You 're not the least bit sexy and you know it.

  Elsa glanced hurriedly down at where Rafe continued to caress her arm, then darted a hostile glare at him. He re­moved his hand immediately and withdrew to his side of the car. Crossing his arms over his chest, he sat back and remained silent for several minutes.

  "Do I scare you, Elsa?"

  She didn't respond. How could she? She'd die before admitting that he scared her senseless, that she knew he was a threat to her, that on the most basic, primitive level, Rafe Devlin was downright dangerous to any woman.

  Silence pulsated between them as Elsa headed up Poplar and through Germantown, on her way out of Memphis. Elsa realized she was in trouble, that every passing hour with Rafe she became more and more aware of how at­tracted she was to him. And not just physically attracted, though God knew he was devastatingly good-looking. No, it was more than that. She'd been thinking of him as her hero ever since last year and as much as he denied his white knight tendencies, she couldn't see him any other way. Especially not after today, after seeing the kind and gentle way he treated Milly. Not only had he won over Troy, who looked up to Rafe as he'd never looked up to anyone else, now Rafe had won over Milly completely. No doubt when he met Sherrie, he'd wow her, too. When he met Sherrie?

  Elsa Leone, don't go there. Don't think about Rafe as a permanent fixture in your life. He's a here-today-gone-tomorrow kind of man. He told you as much himself.

  Just as they crossed the state line into Mississippi, Elsa's cell phone rang. She glanced at her purse on the . oe-side her.

  "I'll get it for you." Rafe unsnapped her purse and pulled out her cell phone. "Devlin here." Pause. "Where the hell are you? Elsa's been worried sick. Here, talk to her— No, dammit, don't hang up." Rafe held the phone to her ear. "It's Troy."

  Relief washed over her at the sound of her brother's voice, "Hi, sis. Sorry you've been worried. I left my cell phone in the truck all day and just checked my messages a few minutes ago. I'm fine. I'm with Alyssa. We've got plans for tonight, so—''

  "Call Frank Latimer," Elsa said. "Milly was threatened and Rafe has arranged for her, Sherrie and you to have personal bodyguards."

  "Look, sis, I'm okay. I can take care of myself. I don't need a bodyguard. Not now. I've got plans for tonight and I can't change them."

  "Troy, your life could be in danger."

  "I doubt it. Whoever this guy is who's after you wouldn't accomplish anything by hurting me, would he? Threaten me a
nd Sherrie and Milly, yes, that might get you to cooperate, but—"

  "Troy, please call Frank—" The phone went dead. "Damn!"

  "He hung up on you?" Rafe hit the Off button on Elsa's phone and returned it to her purse.

  "I don't know what's going on, but it must be some­thing awfully important for Troy to totally disregard my warnings." Gripping the wheel, Elsa gritted her teeth, then darted a quick sideways glance at Rafe. "You know what's going on with him, don't you?"

  "Yeah, I've got a good idea."

  "Is she pregnant?"

  Rafe didn't respond.

  "Is he taking her for an abortion or off somewhere to get married?''

  "I don't know where they're going or why."

  "But you know that she's pregnant, don't you? Troy told you but didn't tell me."

  "He didn't want to give you something else to worry about. He knows you've bailed him out over and over again and given him numerous second chances. He wanted to take care of this problem himself."

  "For heaven's sake, Rafe, he's twenty."

  "Sooner or later you're going to have to stop trying to solve all his problems and let him stand on his own two feet. Whatever he and Alyssa have decided to do, they're in it together. They have a right to choose the path they want to take."

  Elsa swallowed her unshed tears. Her concern. Worry. Fear.

  "Give Troy some credit, will you?" Rafe said. "Even if he and Alyssa make a mistake—''

  "They've already made a mistake. She's pregnant."

  "Don't be so judgmental. Haven't you ever screwed up, just once?"

  Of course she'd made mistakes, but she'd always taken responsibility for her errors. She'd never had anyone to help her, no one she could turn to, even as a kid. Suddenly realization dawned. Okay, so what Rafe was trying to tell her was that Troy was doing just that—taking responsibil­ity for his actions.

  "You've made your point," Elsa said. Wanting to avoid more conversation with Rafe—either about Troy or about the two of them, she fiddled with the radio dial until she found an easy-listening station. As music filled the car's interior, she focused on Highway 72 and tried to concen­trate on the present and not borrow trouble from the future.