Tough As Nails

by Jackie Manning

  Her soft mouth opened slightly. “I don’t know why I never thought of it before, but just because I don’t know Leonard Braewood doesn’t mean some of my friends aren’t acquainted with him.” She whipped off her sunglasses and turned toward him, her green eyes wide with alarm. “Dear God, do you think the stalker would harm them?”

  He took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. He wanted to be honest but he didn’t want to worry her, either. His guess would be that the stalker was fixated on only one person—Brianna.

  “I’ll let you know,” he said finally, “once we hear Liam’s report on the sweep he did of your office and apartment. I’ve arranged a meeting for us with him at TALON-6 first thing tomorrow.”

  Her mouth twisted into a moue. “I’m in court all morning. Didn’t I tell you?”

  He shook his head. “No problem. While I’m waiting for you in the courthouse, Liam can call me on the Harpo with his reports.”

  She grinned. “The Harpo?”

  “The Harpo is the secure ground phone line.”

  She frowned. “I thought that was the bubble machine.”

  His lips curved into a smile. “The bubble machine is the satellite phone. It’s portable, its location can’t be detected, and it can be used on ground or air. The Harpo is stationary, and is used from one secure ground unit to another.” He gave her a quick glance. “All TALON-6 lines are secure.”

  “Figured.” She slumped back in the seat and looked out the windshield. “You don’t have to come with me to court. I’ll be surrounded by security guards and people I know.”

  “You mean like when you were at the hospital?”

  The flash of fear that widened her eyes made him wish he could take back his words. “I’m going with you to court tomorrow.” Then, as if to lighten the mood, he added, “After all, I’m charging you big bucks for my protection.” He grinned at her and it pleased him to see the worry fade as she smiled.

  “Seriously,” she said, her gaze on the folders in her lap, “I’m very appreciative for all you’re doing, Mike.”

  “It’s my job.” He purposely didn’t look at her when he said that, for sure as hell, she’d see through him. He’d give his life to keep her safe, and protecting his ex-wife had nothing to do with money or his job as a security specialist.

  Mike signaled a lane change, then worked his way through the heavy Sunday-afternoon traffic. The soft brrr of her cell phone caused her to jump. While she answered it, he was grateful for the diversion from thinking about her. He’d been doing too much of that lately.

  “Thanks, Jayne,” Brianna said a few minutes later. “I hope everything turns out okay. Bye.” She clicked off the phone. “That was my client’s attorney,” she said, slipping the phone into the beige straw bag at her feet. “The attorneys have agreed to a postponement, so I won’t be needed in court tomorrow, after all.”

  She smiled brightly at him.

  “Great. That means as soon as you give me the okay on the surveillance equipment I’ve suggested, the sooner we can install it.”

  “How long will it take to hook up?”

  “We should have the latest bells and whistles installed by Tuesday.”

  “Perfect.” Her eyes brightened. “Since I’d planned to be in court tomorrow, I’m not scheduled to see clients at my office until then.” She sighed. “How can we be sure the stalker won’t find a way to rebug my office?”

  “I’ve got a little black box that can easily sweep a room. You can activate the device every morning.”

  She relaxed against the leather seat. “You make everything sound so simple.”

  “That’s my job.”

  She chuckled as she rummaged in her straw bag. When she pulled out her cell phone, he looked up.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “I thought I’d give Larry a ring. Let him know he’s about to have company.” She shot him a look as she punched in the numbers. “We’ll be getting off at the next exit.”

  By the time Mike keyed Larry’s home address into the SUV’s computer and followed the map that appeared on the small monitor installed into the dashboard, it was nearly four o’clock.

  Mike pulled the SUV into the driveway and approached the modern trilevel house framed in carefully manicured shrubbery. He parked alongside a yellow BMW sports convertible in front of a three-car garage.

  Brianna bounced out of the car as soon as he turned off the ignition, and hurried along the terraced walk that led around the back of the house.

  Mike put his hands in his pockets and leisurely strolled after her. A swimming pool was behind the high fence, he would guess. The tennis court that he’d caught a glimpse of through the thick hedge along the east wall must be Dr. Larry Cunningham’s property, too.

  Business must be very good, indeed. Especially if that little sports car was registered in the good doctor’s name. Mike decided it wouldn’t be a bad idea to run Dr. Larry’s name through ACS, the Access Control System that TALON-6 used for high-clearance operations. Mike had a hunch it wouldn’t turn up anything, but where Brianna was concerned, he couldn’t be too careful.

  “Join us for a game,” Cunningham called out to Brianna as he emerged from the shady path to greet her. The rim of his dark baseball cap with the red-cardinal logo above the visor shaded his eyes. He was dressed in whites, from his tennis shirt down to his shoes. He looked like a recruiting poster for the local country club. A long-ago memory of when Mike had first known Brianna flashed through his mind. Cunningham was a fast-forward version of the same kind of college studs who’d swarmed around her at the country club. Mike pushed back the uncomfortable feeling before he had a chance to analyze it. Some things were better left alone.

  “Mike, you remember Larry,” Brianna said when she came within earshot of them.

  Cunningham’s jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed, looking none too happy to see him. “Afternoon, Landis.” He grabbed his hat’s visor and adjusted his cap.

  Mike’s acknowledgment was a lift of his head. It was obvious that Cunningham knew this wasn’t a social call. His inability to hide his emotions was hardly the mark of a criminal. To put it simply, Cunningham might be smart, but he didn’t have the stalker’s cunning.

  “Have you met Lorna?” Larry asked as a petite, red-haired woman in her early thirties came up behind Larry. A tennis racket and ball were clutched in her left hand. Lorna’s cool gray eyes swept past Brianna to fix on Mike. Her white teeth glistened from between red, collagen-filled lips.

  “Lorna, how are you?” Brianna said after Lorna buzzed her cheek. Brianna turned toward Mike and quickly introduced them.

  “We met last night,” Lorna said, holding on to Mike’s hand longer than necessary as she stared up at him.

  Brianna gave Mike a surprised look before she turned to Larry. “We didn’t mean to interrupt your game. I’m sorry we didn’t call sooner.”

  “Nonsense,” Lorna said, her gray eyes studying Mike. “One of the perks of living next door to Larry is that I can drop in anytime for a game of tennis.” She drew her attention to Brianna. “My dear, why don’t you have your talk with Larry. I’ll show Mike the pool. I’ll mix a pitcher of martinis.” Although she was talking to Brianna, her Julia Roberts smile was directed squarely at Mike.

  “Actually, I was the one who wanted to talk to Larry.” Mike pulled his hand from her grip. “Nothing for me to drink. I’m fine, thanks.”

  Lorna blinked, her smile fading as she turned to Brianna.

  Brianna shook her head. “Nothing, thanks.”

  “I’ll have a scotch,” Larry said before Lorna sauntered toward the back of the house.

  Larry strode purposely toward the arched gate within a thick evergreen hedge. The area behind the house reminded Mike of an English-garden maze. A few minutes later, the roof of a screened-in gazebo came into view. Beside it was an Olympic-size swimming pool. When they were inside the gazebo, Mike took the chair beside Brianna after she made herself comfortable on the floral-
cushioned chaise sofa.

  Larry stood a few feet in front of them, his arms folded. He turned his attention to Mike. “What’s this about, Landis?”

  Brianna leaned forward. “Mike, maybe it would be easier if I went first.” He nodded, then watched Larry as she told him about the anonymous photographs she’d received, the listening device that was found in her office telephone on Friday, and finally the incident at the hospital yesterday with Leonard Braewood.

  “Who is this Braewood?” he asked Mike.

  “We’re not sure,” Mike answered carefully. “We’re still gathering evidence.”

  Larry dragged a chair beside Brianna and sat down. “You must go to the police.” He shot a glance at Mike. “No offense, Landis. I’m sure you’re well meaning, but this calls for police work. The FBI.” He looked back at her. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

  “I didn’t know anything to tell. I’d hoped it was some joke. Someone trying to frighten me. I’d hoped once he’d managed to scare me, that would be the end of it.” She took a deep breath, then her gaze met Mike’s. “Mike heads TALON-6, a specialized security agency. I couldn’t be in better hands.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it from what you told me happened yesterday at the hospital.” Cunningham’s gaze on her never faltered.

  “That’s not fair, Larry,” she said. “I don’t know what I would have done without Mike.”

  Larry sat back, quiet for the moment. “Great Scott. You acted as though nothing was wrong last night at the awards dinner.” He let out a gasp. “Christ, the stalker might have been in the audience, for all we know!”

  “Larry, please.” She took in a deep breath. “Mike thought you should know what’s going on. I realized last night that I should have told you before now. That’s why we’re here.”

  Larry put his hand on her clenched hand. “You know you can count on me, Brianna. I’ll do anything I can.”

  She moved her hand, then glanced at Mike before returning her attention to Larry. “If you want to help me, you’ll answer Mike’s questions.”

  “What questions?” Larry frowned at Mike. “You can’t believe I know anything about this?”

  “No, no, of course not,” Brianna said quickly. “But there’s a chance you might know something that will prove useful. Maybe you saw something that at the time might have seemed meaningless.”

  “Like what?” Larry asked defensively.

  Mike cleared his throat. “Larry, you’re not under suspicion. My questions are just routine.”

  “That sounds like a line from a cop-TV show.” He leaned back to face her, his face tense. “Let me go with you to the police, Brianna. I’d feel better if—”

  “I’ve been to the police. But so far, we have little to go on. Slipping photos under the door isn’t illegal. We can’t prove who placed the listening device in my phone. Besides, the police are understaffed and overworked. Using TALON-6, I’ll get more immediate results. And I’m being protected, day and night.”

  Larry looked surprised. “Where are you staying?”

  “I can’t tell you,” she said.

  “Don’t you trust me, Brianna?” Larry asked.

  “It’s not that.” She abruptly got to her feet. “Mike, can you explain it to him?”

  Mike noted the scowl of disbelief on Cunningham’s face. “It’s for her protection that you don’t know. What you don’t know you can’t tell. That’s standard operating procedure.”

  Larry shot to his feet. “This is ridiculous.”

  “Oh, there you are,” Lorna trilled. She appeared from the open gate, carrying a tray of drinks in her hands.

  “Mike, why don’t you stay and explain things to Larry,” Brianna said, moving to the door, “while Lorna shows me the gardens.” Without waiting for a response, she stepped through the gazebo door and strode toward the red-haired woman. “Lorna, why don’t you show me the roses. Larry had mentioned he’s entering Golden Masterpiece in the rose show next week.”

  When the women were out of sight, Mike got to his feet and leaned to within an inch of Larry’s face. “Look, Cunningham,” he said, his low voice edged in steel. “If you want to help her, you’ll answer my questions. But if you want to play hardball with me, just say so. Because if the lab reports from the tests my partner took from the evidence he found in Brianna’s office come back tomorrow and reveal what I think they will, then I’ll have the power to have the police haul your ass in for questioning. Then this little chat will be on the record. Now, whose rules do you want to play by? Yours or mine?”

  Cunningham’s eyes narrowed to angry slits. “You’re a regular caveman, aren’t you?”

  “Ah, now you went and hurt my feelings.” Mike took a deep breath, aware of the anger churning inside him. “Are you ready to answer my questions?”

  Larry sat down. “Depends on the questions. Should I call my lawyer or something?”

  “No, this is just a friendly little chat between buddies.” Mike pulled a microcassette recorder from his hip pocket. “I’d like to record this, if you don’t mind.” He clicked on the machine. “Now, tell me, Larry. Are you in love with my ex-wife?”

  “THAT DROP-DEAD, gorgeous hunk is your ex?” Lorna asked a few minutes later. Her face openly revealed her delight that Mike wasn’t Brianna’s new lover as Lorna had first thought. She took a sip from her martini glass. “Is he…engaged or anything?”

  Brianna bit back the stab of unadulterated jealousy and the anger with herself for feeling it. “I—I don’t…know,” she said, justifying her answer with the knowledge that she really hadn’t asked Mike if there was a woman, someone he was serious about, in his life.

  She wanted to slap that silly smile from Lorna’s face. Instead, she glanced at the thin gold wristwatch on her wrist. “My, it’s almost six. I think I’ll see if the men have finished.”

  Lorna slid her hand over her short bob. “What’s so important that Mike couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” She stood on tiptoe and peered around the weeping juniper to catch a glimpse of the gazebo.

  “Mike won’t be available this week,” Brianna said, her cheeks warming at the white lie. Damn, she wished Mike would hurry. Lorna was getting on her nerves. She glanced back at the gazebo. The wind, or what there was of it, was blowing the other way or else she might hear what they were saying.

  “Men like that can have any woman they want,” Lorna said, pouring herself another drink from the pitcher. She speared a green olive onto a toothpick. “Sure you don’t want something?”

  Yes, I want to get out of here, Brianna thought. “Why don’t you wait here while I see what’s keeping them?” She rose from the bench along the poolside table and without waiting for Lorna to answer, hurried along the path toward the gazebo.

  She noticed Mike before she saw Larry. Both men turned when her footsteps creaked upon the wooden steps leading to the gazebo screen door. “About ready?” she asked, trying to sense their mood.

  Mike’s mouth crooked slightly, his body language giving no hint to his emotions. Despite Larry’s tan, his cheeks looked pale. His cap’s visor slanted across his forehead, shielding his eyes. From the guarded way he’d folded his arms across his chest, Larry’s posture appeared very defensive.

  She gave Mike a tight smile before she spoke to Larry. “Why don’t we finish your talk on Tuesday.”

  Mike looked at him in surprise. “I’d forgotten you’re not in the office every day, are you?”

  Larry stood and moved to the door, dismissing them. “No, I lecture at Princeton on Mondays and Fridays.”

  Brianna caught the puzzled look on Mike’s face, but she would wait until they were on their way back to the city to ask him what was wrong.

  “Give Lorna our goodbyes, Larry,” she said, hoping to make a speedy exit. She was bursting with curiosity to find out what, if anything, Larry had told him.

  Mike offered his hand to Larry. “Nice seeing you again, sport.”

  Larry mumbled something, then
glowered at Mike, his right hand gripping the doorknob before he strode from the gazebo to join Lorna by the gate.

  Brianna did a double take when she realized Larry had refused to shake Mike’s hand. She turned and raised a questioning eyebrow at her ex-husband.

  “Come on, honey,” Mike said, taking her arm. “Goodbye, Lorna,” he called out to where she and Larry stood.

  Lorna lifted her martini glass, then took a sip. “’Nighty.”

  “CUNNINGHAM HAS ACCESS to your office key and to your apartment—”

  “No, Mike. I told you that Simone and my aunt Nora are the only people who have access to my apartment—”

  “You and Cunningham share Simone for secretarial duties,” Mike interrupted. “If Simone kept your keys in her desk, it’s not impossible for Larry to have made an impression of them—”

  “Larry isn’t the type to even think like that—”

  “How do you know?”

  “Will you stop interrupting me?”

  “I will if you will.” He grinned and she found it hard to stay angry with him. Oh, how she’d like to let go and pick a fight with him. Anything to keep her mind off how incredibly sexy he’d looked in contrast to poor Larry. Oh for Pete’s sake, what was the matter with her?

  Maybe if she could scream and yell, she’d release the bottleneck of tension that she’d felt since this nightmare began. How she’d love to hurl insults at Mike like the childish, dysfunctional brat she wished she were. But she wasn’t, dammit.

  She was a gracious, kind, practical woman. A Rock of Gibraltar who kept her head in a crisis. She was a leading expert in the art of couple relationships. Damn, she’d even toyed with the idea of writing a book about the subject.