Bootscootin' and Cozy Cash Mysteries Boxed Set (Books 1-6)

by Scott, D. D.

  “I think we can. I’m not sure on all the specifics yet. I’ll have to do some research.”

  “How about we do the research together?” He held her hand as they walked to the great room. “Maybe we’ll need to experiment.”

  “Perhaps maybe.” Audrey put her arm around his hip but not before giving his butt a playful swat.

  “Thank you for that,” he said then returned her love tap.

  “No. Thank you,” she said, always up to bantering with him.

  Damian helped her settle into the sofa, propping her feet up on the coffee table and covering her with her favorite faux shearling blanket.

  “Boy, I could get used to this kind of pampering.”

  “Well you’d better get used to it ‘cause there’s gonna to be lots more of it.” He kissed her forehead then tapped her nose. “We’re also gonna be discussing your crazy schedule. You will be slowing down and getting plenty of rest.”

  “But –”

  “Don’t even go there. You know I’ve been on you about taking time off and getting more sleep. Now you’re gonna listen. You and that baby in there are my responsibility. Nothing will keep me from making sure you’re both healthy and safe.”

  The determination flowing through every part of his countenance could not be compromised. Audrey knew when he’d put his foot down. And he had.

  As he left her on the sofa pondering how he’d accomplish his intentions, his body pulled more taught with every step he took across the great room, a courageous show of allegiance to his mission. He meant business.

  His fiercely protective, bad boy bravado, however, had her buffaloed as well as bolstered.

  She was now used to allowing herself to be controlled by certain people — thanks to her Fed-assigned handlers. But she wasn’t about to start losing her power at home too. Despite the man of the house’s good intentions.

  What kind of example would that be for their son or daughter?

  But she was also filled with a never before felt sense of peace and security. That feeling of being loved enough that you were cared for and looked after.

  Damian and her new Music City family were the only safe escapes and sanctuaries Audrey had ever had.

  Living under and now hiding from the flashes of dozens of paparazzi photographers had left her with a constant, at times overwhelming sense of raw exposure.

  She sank back into the plush leather cushions of the sofa, wishing they’d swallow her disconcerting concerns.

  Moving to Music City, she’d thought she’d finally beat the constant hounding by crazed photographers earning big bucks to trail her every move. Even now, she’d catch herself anxiously looking out her home’s windows and Damian’s too, sure any day she’d see the return of the line of dark, tinted window SUVs and tiny, European cars and Vespas waiting for her to step outside.

  She’d cut her long, gorgeous, auburn hair into a stylishly chic bob. Then to make sure her cover wasn’t blown, she’d gone platinum blonde. With her sixty-plus-pound weight differential and more artsy wardrobe, Audrey had thus far fooled the picture-starving paps. For extra assurance, she’d had her handlers report she was overseas on business.

  Going on national television for Roxy’s belt buckle debut had been the ultimate test for the new Alexandra McCall, now known as Audrey Holtz.

  And she just might have pulled it off. It had been over a week now since their HSQ appearance, and she hadn’t heard a peep or seen any proof in the wicked weeklies that the camera-yielding vultures were back.

  Her original plan, upon relocating to Nashville, had been to go into internet marketing, using her promotional talent in cyberspace only, hiding behind the screens of anonymity the medium offered.

  But when Roxy had hit it big time after one of the home shopping channel executives visited her boutique, all Audrey’s plans were suddenly at risk. But too bad. After everything Roxy had done for her, Audrey couldn’t and wouldn’t turn her back on one of her best friends.

  So she’d sucked it up and taken one for the team, hoping and praying the price wasn’t her newfound, but tenuous freedom.

  But how could she continue covering up her real identity now that she was pregnant with Damian’s child? Both he and their baby deserved to start their new life as a family built on truth.

  Audrey’s iPhone lit-up and vibrated the same time her laptop chirped ‘you’ve got mail’. Tempted to ignore both devices, and continue thinking through her latest predicament, she watched the phone jump and skip across the coffee table until the caller either gave up or went to voicemail.

  Her laptop soon chirped again, announcing another email had arrived.

  Hearing the tone that a text message had now hit her phone too, she gave up on the notion that ignorance is bliss and checked the screen.

  She clicked on the message…a single text line from Jules, followed by a second one verbatim from Roxy.

  “Turn on the TV” the messages read.

  Reaching for the remote, Audrey’s heart dropped to her soon-to-be-swollen feet.

  Chapter Five

  By the time the flat screen’s picture came into view, Audrey almost felt sick at her stomach.

  She’d been this route so many times before, but every time it happened, she seemed to take it worse rather than better.

  There were certain things that time couldn’t heal, and being the target of every hot, evening news magazine show was one of ‘em.

  Willy Bush and Kate Hoover were seated at their In Access Hollywood Live scoop desk dishing on today’s big news.

  “No new rumors per se on this one,” Willy said. “This story has been around for awhile now. Although…it’s about to get very, very interesting.”

  “That’s right, Willy,” Kate piped-in, her perky cute expression accentuating the sparkle in her eyes as she got ready to land the scoop ship of the night. “Take a look at Today’s In Access Hollywood Live Mystery Pic.”

  “So the question is who is this?” Willy asked. “Could it be the suddenly out of sight, supposedly in Europe on business, Alexandra McCall? Yes, as in the Alex McCall, daughter of Ponzi Scheme Hall of Famer Bernie McCall? I don’t know. Log on and tell us what you think.”

  “Sure looks like it to me, Willy,” Kate said, driving the scoop needle deeper into Audrey’s skin. “Our sources tell us that home shopping giant HSQ denies the rumor, saying that this shot is of Audrey Holtz, manager and publicist for their newly discovered top designer Roxy Rae Vaughn of the new fashion powerhouse Raeve Boutiques.”

  “I don’t know, Kate,” Willy said, his smarmy grin nowhere close to covering up his thrill with the doubt they were planting amongst their viewers. “Alexandra McCall or this Audrey whoever? What do you all think?”

  With that lead-in, the show put-up an old paparazzi close-up of Audrey’s face in her Alexandra McCall days, right next to a blown-up clip from her HSQ appearance.

  Yeah, the caramel curls versus the platinum bob helped a bit. And the thinner face was a huge plus. But there was no mistaking her eyes and the curve of her mouth.

  Or was that just her recognizing herself or her former self, Audrey pondered.

  While the show cut to commercial, Audrey quickly Skyped Jules and Roxy. They were always her sanity check. And damn she needed some sanity and fast.

  “How bad is this? Am I just blowing it out of proportion ‘cause you know, I can recognize me? Well…both me’s?” She asked, pulling her laptop onto her thighs so she could better gauge Jules and Roxy’s facial expressions.

  They may try to sugarcoat it. Well, Jules would. Roxy, not so much. But Audrey knew them well enough to read their faces for their unspoken truth.

  “I swear that schmuck can’t wear anything but sweaters with dress shirts underneath,” Roxy said, disgust flavoring her tone and twitching her jaw bone like she did when someone, in her view, had made a major fashion faux pas.

  “Really, Roxy? You’re worried about Willy Bush’s clothing choice?” Jules combed through her thic
k mane, her huge chocolate diamond engagement ring sending a large glare through Audrey’s laptop screen.

  “So look, it’s not the best news, Audie,” Jules continued. “Are your handlers there yet?”

  Audrey sighed, letting out the first layer of frustration she’d apparently been holding in check since Willy and Kate started their Mystery Pic game.

  “Shit. Not yet. But I’ll hear their tires scrunching in the snowy driveway any minute now.”

  Other than her weekly briefings, Audrey had managed to almost resume a normal life here in Music City. But that was no doubt over, and damn were her handlers going to be scrambling and scrambling mad.

  She should have told them about her trip versus just doing it. But she knew they would have stopped her. And Audrey refused to let Roxy down when she needed her more than ever.

  “I don’t understand. Your people did know about our little HSQ Appearance, right Audie?” Roxy asked, evidently expecting an answer in the affirmative based on her not even looking into her computer screen waiting for Audrey’s confirmation.

  “Not exactly,” Audrey said, pressing her fingers gently against her tummy, trying to massage the balls of dread now riding a big ass roller coaster inside her gut.

  “Oh Hell, Audie. You didn’t hide it. Who am I kidding? Yes you did. You’d never leave me hanging,” Roxy said then nibbled at her perfectly manicured index finger, a nervous habit she’d just recently developed.

  “Okay okay. Not good. Sooo not good. But let’s try to chill a bit and think through this,” Jules said, always the first one to become the logical, problem solver of their bunch.

  “We won’t have to think for ourselves,” Audrey said, the roller coaster in her stomach suddenly descending one helluva steep hill. “I hear the Calvary’s car doors slamming as we speak.”

  “We’re on our way,” Roxy said, flying off her couch.

  And she meant it, Audrey knew, seeing her Skype hook-up disappear.

  “Stay strong, Sweetie. We’re coming. Damian’s still there, right?” Jules asked.

  “Yeah, he’s in the shower and should be…”

  “I’m right here,” he cut-in, coming into the room with only his sleep pants on while towel-drying his hair. “What’s up?”

  Jules’ Skype connection suddenly went black as well.

  Before Audrey could say anything, In Access Hollywood Live came roaring back to life, her Mystery Pic comparison once again flashing on the screen.

  “Fuck us,” Damian said and sat down next to her on the couch, tucking her in tight underneath his still damp arm, gently kneading her side with his tense fingertips.

  Hearing Damian’s front door unlock, feeling the chill of the storm not near as much as the chill her Cavalry of Handlers brought every time they invaded her space, Audrey sank into the warmth and security of Damian’s warm side of steel just as the show took over where it had left off pre-commercial break.

  “Although I certainly understand why Alexandra McCall would want to hide,” Willy Bush continued, “Alexandra slash Audrey can’t possibly think we wouldn’t know that face.”

  “Right, Willy. I mean c’mon after her father damn near ruined most of the wealthiest families in America, and it appears many of Europe’s royal families as well, oh, and several Russian mob families and international drug cartels too, uhm, yeah, we get why she’s hiding. But her brothers sure are flying high in the spotlight and living to tell about it. And we know, for a fact, she has Fed guys watching over her to protect her. So why hide?”

  Kate laid out her well-played, snarky case for Audrey coming clean.

  Audrey wasn’t a vengeful person. Far from it. But Kate’s commentary was rubbing every ounce of calm right outta her body.

  Who did she think she was to even remotely guess at what Audrey’s life had become thanks to her father? And how dare she mock what it was like to live that reality.

  “I get what you’re saying, Kate,” Willy said, “but give Alexandra a break. Even the Feds have said they believe she, and only she, is the innocent one here. Who could blame the girl for going into hiding? I mean c’mon. Would you want the Russian Mob or international drug cartels knowing your whereabouts?”

  Every nerve-ending Audrey had, now fired red hot with rage, only to be quickly chilled by a returning fear she didn’t think she’d ever get accustomed to living with.

  What was she thinking by coming here to Nashville and putting her best friends, and now new friends too, in jeopardy?

  She sucked in a huge breath. And oh my God. Now she had Damian and their baby to protect too!

  She doubled over. Hugging her chest to her knees. Thinking she just might lose it as the roller coaster inside her jerked to a horribly abrupt stop as the show once again went to commercial.

  Worse than the news was Damian’s silence.

  And not just his silence, but the hard-core pressure transferring to her skin from his palms as he rubbed her back, made her realize that he, like she, was a bottle of emotion about ready to blow.

  One of the marshals now in their great room, removed his shoulder holster, then removed the gun from that same holster and tucked it into the waistband at the back of his jeans.

  The sight of guns moving in their home sent chills through Audrey’s already pulsating body.

  A second marshal proceeded around the circumference of the room, meticulously, almost machine-like and robotic in movement, closing each blind and drawing the curtains of every window.

  Audrey’s soul fell into the darkness left. Not from the sudden loss of the flood lights streaming through the windows of Damian’s home, but from the feeling of the world once again closing in around her, suffocating her ability to live and move freely.

  Zoey Witherspoon, once the McCall family’s stylist and make-up artist, now turned Special Agent for this ordeal, was the first to speak.

  “Why didn’t you tell us, Audrey?” She asked, her sweet but firm tone not matching the looks of deadly daggers coming from the other agents filling the room. “Maybe we could have done something.”

  “There isn’t anything we could have done to protect this kind of breach of protocol,” Roman Bellesconi, the lead marshal on Audrey’s team corrected Zoey, his voice the brisk, all-business tone Audrey had come to expect outta him.

  “Well I can tell you there’s certainly stuff you’re gonna be doin’ now, God Dammit. I want Audrey safe. And that’s your job,” Damian said, standing up from the couch and facing off against Roman.

  Audrey wasn’t sure what to do. And from the wide-eyed look coming from Zoey, she was pretty much at a loss too.

  A Damian Baker-Roman Bellesconi match-up was one of pure, hard-working construction guy muscle versus one big beef of professionally trained take ‘em down and out.

  Although, Roman may have the advantage on paper diplomas earned after years of top-notch training, Audrey knew without a doubt, Damian would never let anyone talk down to or fail to do right by her. Throw that emotional, personal motive and connection in there, and Audrey would bet on that every time over training.

  She’d watched her dad screw people over, based on their emotional connections, for years. And she knew that nothing — not logic or even the proof of the numbers and stats on paper — could prevent an emotional bond from making people do things they normally wouldn’t do.

  “You’re right, Mr. Baker,” Roman said in a dangerously low, ultra-controlled voice, “it is my job to see to Audrey’s safety. But I can’t do that if she doesn’t tell me the truth about what she’s doing.”

  “He’s right, Damian,” Audrey stood-up next to her man, proud to be a team with him and mad at herself for jeopardizing all that they had. “I screwed up big time. But it won’t happen again. I’m sorry, Roman. Zoey. All of you.”

  Before she could say more, Zoey reached out and rubbed her arm. “Are you feeling okay, Alex? You’re not lookin’ so hot.”

  Hearing Zoey refer to her as Alex always caused a catch in her soul, but
Zoey had known her by that name for almost ten years now. And although she’d tried to call her Audrey, she often slipped.

  Audrey looked at Damian, not sure what to say, or to who, at this point.

  Damian gently urged her to return to the couch then took a seat next to her, beginning to draw slow circles on her knee caps with his fingers.

  Audrey knew from his touch he was thinking things through, using the safety of their skin-to-skin connection to empower his thought process.

  “I am encouraged that so far, nothing has been said about your whereabouts,” Zoey said, breaking the awkward silence.

  “That won’t take long, trust me,” Roman said, pacing the room, the creak of his leather shoulder holster making an eerie echo every step he took.

  “Maybe not even that long,” Damian said, returning the flat screen from mute to an uncomfortably high volume after evidently seeing something of interest pop-up.

  Audrey watched and listened as Hollywood Extra’s Dario Lopez positioned himself next to their large studio monitor with a GPS tracking like signal glowing a huge, ominous red on a blown-up map.

  “Turn it up more,” Roman ordered, immediately coming to a halt in the middle of the great room, partially blocking their view while staring at the screen.

  “Let’s get straight to the big news of the day with our GPS Feature,” Dario teased.

  “Here’s where we track all of those great pictures of stars,” he continued. “Today’s top news is a new twist on an old story. Follow the dot on our map and notice the name of the city for our next highlighted location,” he quipped.

  “That’s right. We’re focusing on Music City — good ‘ole Nashville Tennessee — where we think is the new home of Alexandra McCall, the daughter of the infamous Bernie McCall. Or should we say the home of Audrey Holtz, the name our sources tell us Alexandra has now assumed?”

  With that blurb, Roman resumed pacing off the floor. With Zoey right in step behind him.