Model Bodyguard (Haven Investigations Book 2)

by Lissa Kasey

  A drive-thru coffee in hand, I waited in my car outside the Louiton residence. I had an appointment with the man this morning to talk over insurance options. But I wanted to get a feel for his routine. His wife said he left the house by seven, but his first appointment hadn’t been till nine. What was he doing in the two hours between when he left his house and had an appointment? His office was only fifteen minutes away.

  Maybe he just went to the office early to work on paperwork and review accounts before clients began to filter in. If he’d been a friend of mine, I would have thought him studious. But because his wife suspected the worst, I naturally played out the scenarios of possibility in my head.

  Tailing someone early like this was dangerous. The world began to wake. People were more observant in the morning than late at night. And while there might be a few cars on the street, someone following for several blocks was easy enough to spot.

  For example, I spotted a cream-colored sedan watching our house when I left. I knew the plates of all the cars on our street, even their less-often visiting friends and family. If someone got a new car, I’d have known. This one wasn’t new. More like a decade old. The suited gentlemen trying to be inconspicuous were also a big tip-off.

  I’d snapped a photo of the car, plate, and position with my phone as I drove by, then texted it to Ollie, Will, and Ty. If Jacob was becoming a stalker, we needed to nip that shit in the bud right away. Will texted back that he’d send a unit around. Ollie was still asleep so I heard nothing from him. But Tyler wanted to know if we wanted him to draft up a restraining order.

  Maybe.

  The alarm I’d installed on the house was still armed. Doors locked. Outside perimeter clear. I could see all that on my phone. Ollie would tell me to focus on the case. But I couldn’t help worrying when he was home alone, asleep. Maybe we should have gotten a dog. A retired police dog would have been ideal. I sighed. Ollie was more of a cat person anyway. He was sort of feral himself, so it worked.

  The garage door to the Louiton house slid open, and Richard backed his car out. It was odd because so far, nothing I’d seen about the man said he was living large with his wife’s so-called money. Their house was large, but not a McMansion as had become the trend a few years back. His car was probably half a decade old, and he worked in a fairly unassuming insurance office as a rep, not a manager of any kind. He dressed like everyone else had in his office—pressed pants, button-up shirt, and sport coat over the top. Nothing super flashy. No Rolex or giant diamond ring. He had good hair, kept his appearance clean, but that was all insurance guy standard.

  He didn’t seem to notice me at all when he passed by. Probably not a very smart insurance guy. But maybe not everyone was as vigilant about their neighborhood as I could be. I followed him to a coffee shop near his work. He parked instead of using the drive-thru. I found a spot close to him with a good view through the giant window. He ordered, got a drink and a muffin, then sat down at a table and pulled out his laptop.

  Working from the coffee shop? Or just browsing? Most people I knew who worked from a coffee shop were self-employed or unemployed. Too cheap to afford the more secure browsing Wi-Fi from home. He had a job. I had an appointment with him in an hour and a half. So why use café Wi-Fi? Or maybe that was key. Maybe he was browsing porn and didn’t want his wife to know he was using their bandwidth. He could just be an addict. I’d seen that a time or two. It didn’t even end relationships most of the time. Therapy helped. Maybe the guy just needed to come clean. Though I couldn’t imagine what would be arousing about browsing porn in a fairly crowded café. Was it the possibility of being caught?

  I got out of the car after he didn’t appear to be getting up any time soon and headed inside. A new drink—this time a fruity herbal tea—and some overly sugary oatmeal, and I made my way to a spot kitty-corner from Richard. Not quite close enough to see his screen, but he wasn’t really making an attempt to hide it either.

  Using my phone to pretend I was just another hipster taking pictures of my food, I tilted the camera so I could snap a picture of his screen and enlarge it. Several shots later and I was more confused than ever. It was a school website. A local community college. In fact, it appeared he was logged in and taking a test of some sort. I frowned at the pictures. He was taking a class? His wife hadn’t said anything about him attending college.

  I pulled up my notes on my tablet. He’d been a high school graduate who’d been mentored into the insurance career by a family member. Had been in the industry almost seven years. Was he looking to change careers? Maybe just advance? Why wouldn’t he tell his wife?

  Maybe it was a one-off. Maybe he had to recertify or something. I didn’t know all that much about insurance, but I could look it up. I waited until Richard appeared to finish his test, then got up and threw my stuff away. He had a large textbook beside the laptop about business management. Advancement, then. Why not tell his wife? Or had she forgotten to tell me?

  I made my way back to the car and pulled up Ollie’s more advanced background check app. This app bordered on dangerous and illegal. The stuff I could find out about anyone, from their social security number to their blood type, was pretty intense. Everything from medical records, arrest information, and school history. The latter was what I was looking for now. We almost never used this app, since if we were caught with it we could probably be charged with something. Ollie had created it after the incident with Donovan, thinking we might have known more if we’d just looked deeper. It hacked into a lot of private information sources. Though thankfully it required a password each time we logged in, so it was unlikely someone could just start using it if they found or stole one of our phones.

  Richard Louiton was registered at a local community college, attending classes in human resource management. HR. That was a change in career goals. I sent Ollie a text asking if he had a way to pull up someone’s class schedule. I wanted to know if Richard’s supposed cheating corresponded with him working toward a degree.

  It made me pause and realize that I’d expected him to be cheating right from the very beginning. When had I become so jaded? When had someone’s suspicion about someone else become a fact in my head? Had I seen too many of these cheating spouses cases? And how long before I did something stupid like suspect Ollie of cheating? I swore. Maybe we both needed a vacation. Or to take less cheating spouse cases.

  Richard finally left the shop and headed to his office. I didn’t follow him into the insurance lot, though I’d have to head that way soon for the appointment. Ollie texted back that he was awake and the car that had been out front was gone. He would also look into hacking into the school database to get Richard’s schedule.

  I texted an I love you to Ollie and hoped that his morning had fewer startling revelations than mine.

  THE MEETING with Richard had given me a lot of insight on insurance. Things I hadn’t thought of and would have to look at HI’s policy as well as my own to insure we were appropriately covered. I’d followed him most of the day just in case I was wrong about the cheating vs. school thing. There was nothing to prove he was cheating at all. His contact with all his coworkers was professional, friendly, but not overly so. His contact with his assistant was more personal, but I learned she’d recently lost a family member and was still grieving. Most everyone in the office went out of their way to do things for her, open doors, buy food, say hello, or just talk.

  I arrived back at the Haven office just after two to find Ollie and Tomas huddled together beside Tomas’s desk talking about hair. Ollie’s was just long enough to reach his chin now, having grown back after having to cut it when he’d had a severe head injury last fall. This time it was all natural. No bleaching or highlighting. It was just a pale golden brown mass of waves. I knew it was baby soft to the touch, and that he only washed his hair maybe twice a week. He had a handful of natural products he used to tame the frizz that came with not having straight hair. I even used a few myself, though keeping my hair short was ab
out all I could do to keep from having a bad white-boy fro.

  He’d styled Tomas’s hair into perfect ringlets that would have looked at home on Shirley Temple. It wasn’t a bad look. It just made Tomas appear younger than he was, and that was hard to do since he wasn’t yet nineteen. He had to be wearing some sort of eye makeup too because his lashes looked really dark and long. Maybe it was the hairstyle that brought out his eyes? I’d ask Ty sometime and hope not to be punched for noticing.

  Newt sat curled up on the waiting area lounge chair. I frowned at the cat. “You get that house cat means he’s supposed to stay at home, right?” I said to my boyfriend.

  Ollie glanced at Newt and back to me. “I felt bad leaving him home all by himself. Plus I had to go to the pet store and when I called they said it was okay to bring him. You should see the neat things I got for him.”

  “Like?” I prompted, somewhat amused. Ollie was going to be one of those pet parents. I just knew it. The first indication of which was the gem-covered collar with a baby blue heart-shaped tag on it.

  “I got his collar and tag. It has his name and both our numbers on it. I also got a cool bag for him to travel with me.” He pointed to a brown satchel that didn’t look all that different from a book bag. “I bought a litter box for the office, and a couple more for at home. The vet there said he should have a couple. And I ordered a cat tree thing that they are going to come and install this evening so maybe he doesn’t keep jumping on top of all the doors.”

  A cat tree so large someone was coming to install it. Oh yeah, Ollie was one of those pet parents. This cat was going to be super spoiled. I looked at the cat and immediately felt sorry for him. “Poor kitty. Dragged everywhere by the crazy man. Next he’ll be putting you in tutus and little neckties.”

  Ollie blinked at me like he hadn’t even thought of it. “They have neckties for cats?”

  Tomas grinned. “That would be so cute!”

  “I really hope B and Will tested this cat’s patience because most cats don’t like to be held, confined, or dressed in weird outfits.” Hell, the ones I’d had growing up didn’t even like to wear a collar. They always wriggled out of them. And car rides to the vet were always a nightmare. They’d yowl until we were sure they were dying. Yet somehow Ollie had traveled with Newt to the office. Since I didn’t see the carrier he’d been brought home in anywhere, I assumed he’d just let the cat run around his car. The idea nearly gave me a heart attack. As if Ollie wasn’t a bad enough driver as it was….

  “You went really pale. Are you okay?” Ollie asked. He rounded the desk to pull me close. He put a hand to my forehead. “You feel okay. Maybe it’s the new tattoo? Or does your leg hurt really bad today?”

  I stole a quick kiss from him. “I’m fine. Not hurting.” At least not more than usual. “My client should be here in about ten minutes.” I just had to not think about Ollie driving with a cat running around his feet.

  “The cheating spouse case?”

  “He’s not cheating,” I told him.

  Ollie looked skeptical. But I had been too. Man, this job really fucked with our heads. “Nope. Not cheating.” I glanced at Tomas. “When Mrs. Louiton gets here, please send her into my office.”

  Tomas nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Oh and thanks,” I told him.

  He frowned at me. “For what?”

  “For not jumping ship to go work with Ty.”

  Ollie gasped, “What?”

  Tomas grinned. “You guys are easier going than Ty ever would be. I like it here.”

  “He could probably pay you a lot more,” I pointed out. Though we did pay Tomas well. He also had pretty good benefits since we were part of a co-op that Ollie had found to help small businesses with that sort of thing. Which was great because my VA benefits sucked.

  “Yeah, but life is about balance. I love this job. I feel like I’m important in this job. Not just another drone. And money, while nice, doesn’t buy happiness.” He shrugged. “I’m crazy about Ty, but he’s very by the book. And wearing a suit every day? Blah, no way.” Tomas was wearing fairly new jeans and a sweater over a button-up. It was a business casual look, though we didn’t have a required dress code so long as he wasn’t wearing stained and ripped clothes. Ollie’s wardrobe was too unusual to really set guidelines. In fact, today Ollie was wearing a corduroy skirt that barely hit him midthigh, stockings that had cat faces on the knees and disappeared up under his skirt, and a cashmere, amber-colored turtleneck that I suspected was mine since it was two sizes too big for him. It actually slumped to the side of his neck revealing just the tiniest glimpse of bare golden skin.

  I must have been staring for too long because he winked at me. “Like what you see?”

  “Yes,” I told him honestly. “The sock things are cute.”

  “I ordered a bunch from Japan. It’s a trend over there right now. Some have bows or yin yang symbols or dolphins. I thought the cats were appropriate for today. Plus now we sort of match.” He glanced at my covered arm where my new tat was just starting to tingle with itchiness.

  I pulled him close and slid my trimmed, bearded cheek against his until he shivered. He smelled so good, felt like heaven in my arms. No one fit against me as well as he did, which was odd because we were almost the same height and in heels he was always taller than me. I don’t think it was as much about size as it was about how he folded himself into me.

  I whispered in his ear, “What kind of undies are you wearing?” ’Cause damn, if he had a single pair that failed to make me hot, I had yet to find it.

  “Silk bikini,” he whispered back.

  “Color?”

  He grinned. “You’ll just have to find that out yourself.” He winked again and pulled away, heading to our office.

  I groaned as my pants tightened. Now I’d spend the rest of the day imagining what he’d look like over our desk, skirt up around his waist, silk of some unknown color hugging his fine curves. “You’re so evil.” I could imagine pulling them down just enough to trap his cock against him while I ate his ass and made him writhe.

  Tomas sniggered. “You guys are so cute.”

  “No comments from the peanut gallery,” I told him. He didn’t have to meet with a client while hiding a stiffy.

  The door to the office opened and I expected it to be Mrs. Louiton, but it was a twentysomething female, dressed sort of hipster rock. It was an odd combination of trendy T-shirt and leather pants, with a jean jacket over the top. She had a huge messenger-type bag slung over her shoulder with an owl formed from different fabrics on the front. Her dark hair was cut in a reverse bob. Shaved in the back, long on the sides. There were streaks of blue and red in it, faded but noticeable. Her makeup was tasteful. More the bare neutral that so many guys claimed they preferred rather than the smoky contour of big celebrities. She stood like she was someone. There was a demeanor to that. But I didn’t recognize her. Maybe she was a friend of Ollie’s? She didn’t appear to be the model type, but he had a wide array of friends who were also models. She was just an odd mix of nature chick meets punk rocker.

  “Emily,” Ollie said from behind me, the surprise in his voice unmistakable. “Wow, how are you?” He stepped forward and instead of offering her a hand, he drew her into a hug. “I haven’t seen you since Nathan’s funeral.”

  She let him, folded her arms around him, and while she only barely reached his neck, she seemed to tuck her head there and breathe in deep. They stayed that way for a few moments. I glanced at Tomas with a brow raised in question. Did he recognize her? Tomas gave a little shake of his head.

  Okay. Weird. I knew Ollie didn’t do girls, and his few female friends were models or childhood friends like B. In the nearly six months that had passed since we’d begun dating, I’d never heard him mention anyone by the name of Emily. I stuffed my hands in my pocket and waited.

  “I’m still so sorry about Nathan,” she told Ollie. “I would never have wished that on anyone.” Her voice was throaty and full like
she was fighting tears.

  “I know,” Ollie said. He hugged her tighter for a minute. Finally he drew away and turned toward me. “Emily, this is my boyfriend and work partner, Kade.” Then he pointed to Tomas. “Our assistant and friend Tomas. Guys, this is Emily. Jacob’s little sister.”

  Oh. And I was instantly suspicious. “Did Jacob send you?”

  She sighed. “No. Sadly I sent him the first time. Thinking he could appeal to Ollie with an apology for being an asshole first. Obviously that didn’t work.”

  Ollie snorted. “I don’t think there’s anything he could say that would make up to me for what he did. And then yesterday….” Ollie growled. “He had someone slit the tires on Kade’s car to try to get me alone.”

  Emily flinched. “Yeah, that sounds like him. He’s been off lately. Can we rewind? Talk? Do the two of you have a few minutes to talk?”

  “Not if it’s about Jacob,” I told her. “Sorry, ma’am. But whatever hot water he’s gotten himself into seems deserved.”

  “Even death threats?”

  Jacob hadn’t mentioned anything about death threats. “I thought all celebrities got those,” I told her. And instantly I wondered if Ollie ever did. I’d never seen any, and I did go through our mail a lot, but that didn’t mean something wasn’t sent to his agency.

  “Only celebrities with stalkers.” She opened her bag and pulled out a folder filled with papers. “They don’t say exactly that they want to kill him. Just to make him pay and ruin him. It’s crazy. Like the stuff you see in old movies. Pieced together from the articles that are written about him.” She handed the folder to me.

  I opened it and browsed through the stack. It really was like a preschooler had pasted together threatening letters. Even going so far as to deface pictures of Jacob and write nasty names around his head. “Have you gone to the police? They could probably analyze the writing.”