Lethal Peril_Military Romantic Suspense

by Emily Jane Trent

  “What are you doing here?”

  Elizabeth didn’t smile. In fact, he didn’t sense any warmth in her greeting. “Is that any way to speak to an old friend…a childhood friend, I might add?”

  Her unexpected appearance in Wyatt’s life threw him off balance. Any semblance of professionalism went out the window. He wanted to know what was going on, and he wanted to know now. When he retired from the service, he’d made a point not to return to New York. He had no use for his family, and he certainly had no reason to reunite with her. When they’d parted, it hadn’t been on good terms. She seemed to overlook that fact.

  It annoyed Wyatt that she had the nerve to show up in his life. He didn’t need this, nor did he want it.

  “I need to hire a bodyguard,” Elizabeth said.

  “Travis will take care of that for you. We have a lot of guys working here. They are all highly trained—”

  “I want you. I don’t know any of those other guys.”

  “Elizabeth, be reasonable.”

  “It’s Beth to you. I insist that you not call me by my given name. That’s reserved for my father. To my friends, I’m Beth.”

  So now they were friends again. “Okay, Beth. I don’t know why you’ve come here or what kind of situation you’ve gotten yourself into, but I’m not your man.”

  “Oh, but you are.” She glared at him. “And how dare you insinuate that I’ve gotten myself into a situation. That’s insulting.”

  Wyatt knew from experience that trouble found Beth, whether she looked for it or not. But as he recalled, she’d done her best to find it.

  “I don’t like being here any better than you like having me here. But I have nowhere else to turn. As distasteful as it may be, I’m counting on you. So I ask that you hear me out.” Beth went over to the drink station and poured a glass of water.

  As much as he wanted to send her packing, Wyatt couldn’t turn away a woman in need. It wasn’t in his makeup. He may not be comfortable with the circumstances, but it was his duty to make sure that she was okay. Friend or not, she deserved that much.

  Wyatt plopped into a chair some distance from hers. “I’ll hear what you have to say, but I don’t guarantee anything.”

  “Fair enough.” Beth sank back into her chair by the window and took a sip of the water.

  Wyatt leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m all ears.”

  “A lot has changed since you’ve been away. I’m alone in the house now. My father is ill, and he’s in a nursing home.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” That part was sincere. Wyatt thought highly of Stephen Foster, and considered him one of the few honest men in the business.

  “My brother runs the company with my Uncle Martin’s assistance, but when my father was still in charge, he hired me to help in accounting.”

  Wyatt raised his brows.

  “Don’t look so shocked. I’m handy with computers, and bookkeeping software isn’t all that sophisticated.”

  “You do have talent with computers.”

  Beth brightened slightly, taking in the unintended compliment. “Anyway, to get to the point…I’ve been accused of embezzling funds, and, as a result, kicked out of the company.”

  “And did you steal the money?”

  The easiest thing to do was raise Beth’s ire. It had been that way since he’d known her, which was most of her life. And why wouldn’t he ask that? She’d been in trouble more than she was out of it. He wouldn’t put much past her. Although he wouldn’t have dreamed she’d graduate to criminal activities. Pranks were one thing; time in prison was another.

  “Oh, that’s just great.” Beth propelled herself from the chair, shooting up like a rocket. “I come here in good faith, and you readily believe the worst of me, just like all the others.”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m just asking.”

  Beth huffed and sat back down. “Well, no, I didn’t do it, if you must know. But that doesn’t change anything. My brother and uncle are convinced that I did. So I’m banned.”

  “Did they file charges?”

  “No, they didn’t. You must realize that it would look bad for the family. They prefer to keep it quiet. It’s enough to disown me.”

  “Won’t your father stand up for you?”

  “He would, but he can’t. That illness I mentioned is Alzheimer’s. He’s not in his right mind.” Beth paused. “I’m on my own.”

  Wyatt furrowed his brow. “Why come to me?”

  Beth hesitated, then took a breath and continued. “The onset of my father’s illness was so sudden, and I’m all alone now. I’m certain my brother’s aim is to inherit Foster International, every dime, if he can. And my uncle Martin is on his side. He’s conspiring to have me written out of the will.”

  “So it’s the money you’re concerned about?”

  Beth shook her head. “Not in the least. I didn’t manipulate things in order to scoop the family fortune, even though I was my father’s favorite.”

  “Well, what has you worried, then?”

  “I’m treated like an outsider. My uncle will do anything to see that I don’t get my inheritance…and more. But as you might recall, he has a temper. And, well, I’ve decided that I need some security.”

  Wyatt knew her too well. There was no question that she hadn’t told him everything. Beth was strong-willed, and not easily bullied. She’d stood up to her uncle for years. Had something changed while he’d been away?

  Wyatt leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Do you think that your brother or uncle wish you harm?”

  Beth seemed to ponder that question a moment longer than necessary. “I don’t know,” she said, without much conviction.

  “Then why hire a bodyguard?”

  Beth shrugged. “Just in case.” When he didn’t offer to take the job, she added, “I’ll feel better.”

  Wyatt wasn’t anxious to get involved. He was under no delusion; he would be stepping into a bad situation. Whatever it was that Beth hadn’t told him was going to come back to bite him. Yet she was a woman alone.

  Sitting across from him, dwarfed by the plush office chair, she looked small. In her jeans and cotton shirt, Beth didn’t look any older than early twenties, although she had to be twenty-eight. He was five years older than she was. The woman was an enigma. Her petite size gave her a vulnerable appearance. Yet she carried herself with a don’t-mess-with-me attitude, and the new punk look she’d acquired lent credence to that.

  Beth waited for his reply. There was no way in hell he would send her back to New York by herself, into a situation that could be dangerous. He didn’t understand how her family posed a physical threat, but the fact that she was concerned for her safety was enough for him.

  Wyatt would do it, but he didn’t have to like it. “I’ll take on the duties as your bodyguard, but just until the issue is resolved and you’re out of danger. Then I’m done. Agreed?”

  Beth’s smile lit up her face, and she looked quite pretty. “Okay, agreed.” She stood up. “Travis mentioned there’s something I need to sign.”

  Wyatt nodded, then went over to the door and opened it for her. “After you,” he said.

  Chapter 3

  The paperwork took a while, since Beth was asked in-depth questions to enable Stealth to set up security for her. The head of the team Travis Hewitt orchestrated the proceedings and the financial agreement. He was a family man, judging by the photos of his wife and daughters on his desk.

  Then a guy in a ponytail, introduced as Rip, filled in a detailed questionnaire on his computer while he interviewed her. Beth tried to answer the questions honestly, knowing that the company could and probably would find out anything they wanted to. But she didn’t volunteer more than she was asked for.

  While Wyatt met with their computer expert, Beth lingered in reception and got to know Tessa. The woman was friendly, straightforward and not pretentious. Since Tessa had been to New York, and knew a bit about th
e city, she asked lots of questions. It seemed like questions were part of the Stealth culture.

  Beth updated her about the shopping scene, some new restaurants, and other trivia. But she skipped over anything personal. After all, she’d just met the woman, even if she did work for a team of ex-SEAL bodyguards. It paid to be careful.

  Wyatt returned, interrupting before the conversation got too interesting. “I think we’re done here,” he said.

  “Then take me to lunch.” Beth winked at Tessa, who smiled. “I’m starved. Personal history questionnaires wear me out.”

  Wyatt stood next to Beth, but the top of her head barely reached his shoulder. Was he that tall before? “Where do you want to go?”

  “I’m new in town,” Beth said. “You’ll have to pick the place. But no green smoothies or tofu, all that health food stuff.”

  “You have something against health?”

  “Just the food, if it’s extreme. Isn’t California known for the yuppie, trendy, healthy lifestyle?”

  Wyatt lifted his hands. “Burger and fries?”

  Beth grinned. “Lead the way.” She waved at Tessa on the way out.

  In the elevator, Beth leaned against the opposite wall to get a good look at her new bodyguard. It had been over ten years since she’d seen him, and he’d definitely changed—for the better. He’d been handsome as a youth, but maturity suited him.

  “Looking at something?” Wyatt said.

  “You’ve filled out. Where’d you get all that muscle?”

  “It was required in the line of duty.”

  Beth couldn’t imagine what he’d experienced as a SEAL, but it must have been demanding. That much she could guess about special ops. Yet she had no personal knowledge of the rigors he’d endured. Whatever he’d been doing had sculpted him into a solidly built specimen—a sexy one, at that.

  Yet she didn’t want to go there. This bodyguard arrangement was temporary, and solely for her protection. She had no designs on a guy she’d known most of her life, even if he had morphed into some sort of Adonis. Her memories of him largely involved arguing, and judging by their unplanned reunion, that hadn’t changed.

  The elevator door opened, and Wyatt followed her out. “We can walk. It’s not far.”

  The weather was unexpectedly pleasant, so Beth took off her jacket. “I’ll have to get used to so much sunshine this time of year,” she said. “It must be part of the attraction.”

  Wyatt glanced over. “That, and the beaches, the food, the—”

  “Women?”

  “That too.”

  “You said that just to annoy me.”

  Wyatt motioned for her to turn the corner. “Which is not difficult to do. But you asked the question. I didn’t start it.”

  Beth would have taken issue, just on general principle, but the restaurant was a few steps away. Wyatt strode up to the door to open it for her. He was such a gentleman.

  The place was very LA, with polished wood floors, and chrome and glass tables under pendant lighting. Sheer fabric was tied back from the windows to reveal the view of downtown. Beth favored New York, but she could appreciate the local ambience.

  The greeter escorted them to an open table along the bay of windows. Beth slid into the tangerine-colored vinyl booth, and Wyatt took the chair across from her. While studying the menu, she noticed him staring. “What? Is my hair out of place?”

  “You just look different, that’s all,” Wyatt said. “I’m not sure what I expected. Well, actually, I wasn’t sure I’d see you again. But since I have…what’s with the new look?”

  Beth made a face. “It’s not a look.” Having him around was going to be a challenge. “It’s my style, and it hasn’t changed much since I’ve been an adult. You just haven’t been around to see.”

  “Hmm, that’s right. You turned eighteen right before I left.”

  “I’m aware.” Beth put the menu on the table, and when the waitress glided up to the table, she placed her order.

  “I’ll have the same,” Wyatt said, “but with cheddar on the burger.”

  “You didn’t write to me while you were away?”

  “You didn’t either.”

  Beth sighed. “That’s no answer. And anyway, I wouldn’t have known where to send a letter to you.”

  “Is that still in fashion…writing letters?”

  “You’re changing the subject.” Beth studied him, a man she knew so well yet didn’t know at all. “Why did you leave?”

  The waitress came by with the iced teas, giving Wyatt a chance to come up with his answer.

  “I joined the Navy.”

  Beth dumped a packet of sweetener in her drink. “I know that. But why? You were so good at baseball.”

  Wyatt shrugged. “Not really. I fancied that I was, and the sports scholarship boosted my ego. But it takes more than that. I just didn’t have it, not for pro ball.”

  “So how do you go from baseball to boot camp?”

  Wyatt took a gulp of tea. “You ask a lot of questions.”

  “I just answered more questions than I have since you left, so it’s your turn.”

  “My father wanted me to take over the family business. Since I’m the eldest, he considered it my duty. We differed in that opinion—strongly. So I left. The service called, and I had the physical abilities required. End of story.”

  Beth huffed. “Men.”

  “What did I do now?”

  “You summarize ten years and a major life-changing event in three sentences. That was three, wasn’t it?”

  “Talk to your girlfriends, then.”

  Beth didn’t have any girlfriends, really. And the one friendship she’d begun to form had ended abruptly, as of the day before. Quickly she blocked out the unwelcome memory. Arranging her napkin on her lap, Beth avoided Wyatt’s eyes.

  He might be perceptive enough to notice her discomfort. That would not do. Beth had purposely skipped telling him about the subway tragedy. Eventually, Wyatt would find out, but she preferred to keep it quiet for now.

  The entire incident unnerved her. There were too many unanswered questions, too much mystery. Beth had seriously considered the murderer had been after her, that Amanda’s demise was a case of mistaken identity. But on the flight to California, she’d begun to doubt it.

  Despite her family issues and the animosity toward her, Beth had difficulty believing that someone wanted her out of the picture, as in dead. It went beyond her reality. Sure, she’d been privy to crimes of a sort, deeds that the wealthy didn’t give a second thought to.

  But homicide had not been a part of it.

  So Beth didn’t want to draw attention, and had gone quiet about her theory that the subway killer had pushed the wrong woman. It was best to wait and see, considering the incredulity. If a cop didn’t believe her, then why would anyone else?

  She needed to see how things played out, and now, with Wyatt’s protection, she was safer. Yet he’d been reluctant to accept the role of protector, and suspicious of her allegations. If she’d confessed her fear of being the target of a killer, or shared her suspicions of what took place in the subway, Wyatt might not have agreed to take the job as her bodyguard.

  Beth hadn’t wanted to take that chance, and still didn’t.

  Wyatt leaned back in his chair. “You seem thoughtful.”

  “Just hungry.” As if on cue, a busboy delivered the meals. Beth cut her burger in half and took a big bite. It was especially good, or maybe she was more starved than she’d thought.

  Wyatt doused his fries with ketchup then stuffed a wad of them in his mouth. For the moment, he was distracted, which offered Beth a reprieve from revealing her thoughts.

  After a few more bites of her hamburger, Beth nibbled some of the fries. Then her phone vibrated and she pulled it from her pocket. It was a text from Thomas. She held the phone up so Wyatt couldn’t read the screen from across the table.

  It was an update on the legal process her uncle had initiated to have Beth remove
d from her father’s will. And her attorney mentioned the subway incident, assuring her that the press hadn’t gotten wind of it yet.

  Wyatt continued chewing. “Anything important?”

  “A text from my attorney.”

  “Thomas Stapleton?”

  “You have a good memory.”

  “He probably still represents my family in business matters, too.”

  Wyatt’s statement was a reminder of how intertwined their lives had been. Growing up, their wealthy families had been friends, and attended many of the same events. Since he was five years older than she, Wyatt had tended to look out for her. “My uncle is pressing to get the will changed. But my father is unable to sign right now, or the deed would be done.”

  “Your father wouldn’t cut you out of your inheritance, unless there’s something I’m missing.”

  “Uncle Martin has undue influence over him. He’d use it to force the signature. Even though it’s not legally valid for my father to sign under duress, there’s no way to prove it. So my uncle would probably get away with it.” Certainly, no one would believe Beth if she made that claim.

  “When did that change? Your father used to be his own man. He wouldn’t have let his younger brother push him into anything he didn’t want to do.”

  “It’s a long story,” Beth said.

  “Now who’s summarizing information into a couple of sentences?”

  If only Wyatt knew all that Beth wasn’t telling him. “What can I say?”

  Wyatt finished his burger in silence, and Beth pushed her plate aside, no longer hungry. “I hope you get travel pay, because I have to fly back to New York.”

  “I figured as much.” Wyatt wiped his greasy fingers with his napkin. “When?”

  “It’s my brother’s birthday, and my uncle is throwing him a big party Friday night. I’m planning to be there, if for no other reason than it will irritate my uncle. I have a right to be there, but I have a hunch that he hopes I won’t show up,” Beth said. “And there’s no better time to face the enemy.”

  “How will you explain my presence?”

  “We’ve known each other…like, forever. I’ll just say I knew you were out of the service and looked you up. It’s not strange to invite you to the party with me.”