Guarding Him

by Kori David

  The drive had been interesting. He’d handed her the keys, sat in the back seat, and proceeded to read the paper. It reminded her of an old movie with Humphrey Bogart and Audrey Hepburn. She thought she’d done well hiding her amusement, but knew she’d failed when he’d caught her looking at him in the rearview mirror. He frowned and then went back to ignoring her. Whatever he’d decided about the words they’d exchanged, he kept to himself.

  Lunch was catered for the company, so no one had to go out. Isobel sent a message around about the possible security risks, and not a single employee had decided to stay home, even though she’d given them all that option. They marched into work in twos and threes, determined to show their support. Ian had some great people.

  And then there was his brother.

  Evan was a strange duck. He carried himself with the pomp of a diplomat but had none of Ian’s innate charisma. His office was on the nineteenth floor with Isobel, and Nic headed there with the idea of eating her sandwich with Ian’s sister if she wasn’t busy. She needed a break, and Ian was completely immersed at his drafting table.

  Evan caught her at Isobel’s door. “She’s downstairs somewhere, but you’re welcome to come and visit with me. We haven’t had a chance to be more properly introduced.”

  Nic shrugged. “Sounds good.” It was always good to find out as much as she could about the family of clients. At least that’s what she told herself to try and negate the vibe she got from him. His office was just as big as Isobel’s but was overwhelmingly traditional—an enormous oak desk, imposing bookcases filled to the brim with leather-bound tomes, and big leather-backed chairs that looked like they belonged in a castle somewhere, not an office.

  Evan wrinkled his nose at her wrapped lunch. “I’ve ordered sushi from that new five-star place on the pier. That stuff,” he nodded at her sandwich, “is for the workers.”

  Nic unwrapped it and slowly took a bite. She chewed a good long time and saw that he watched her. “But it tastes great. Nothing beats a well put together sandwich.” She smiled and continued, “What was it like growing up with a genius little brother?”

  Cocking his head to the side, very little expression crossed his face. “All kids are annoying, but he had his entertaining moments. I’m more interested in you.”

  “There’s nothing else to tell; I’m just here until Miriam comes back.”

  “We should have dinner tonight.”

  It was not quite a demand, but close. “Sure, Ian will order whatever you’d like and have it delivered to the house. We can’t leave for safety reasons, according to Isobel, but you’re welcome to come eat with us.” She paused to watch the frown that flitted across his full lips. Was that a pout? It was gone quickly. “What about the nice young lady from the charity event? She’d be welcome as well.”

  He waved his hand in the air. “It was merely a date for the evening. She’s moved on to someone else, someone more her level.”

  Nic groaned inwardly. Not only was he dismissive about the girl, but he’d clearly received the misogynist gene. The reason Ian was overly chivalrous must be because his older brother was the complete opposite. It made her lose the rest of her appetite.

  “I don’t date my clients, or anyone involved with them,” she said, just to be clear. “It’s bad for business.”

  “Well, it certainly looks like you do. You were glued to my little brother the other night.”

  Setting the sandwich down, she carefully wrapped it back up. Standing, she smiled politely. “We all know the difference between reality and fantasy.”

  With that, she turned on her heel and left, almost colliding with Isobel. “Oh, damn, sorry about that,” Nic said as she fumbled her sandwich, catching it before it hit the floor.

  “I wish I had reflexes like that,” Isobel said. “I just wanted to grab my lunch before I headed down to get some fresh air. Care to join me?”

  “Sure,” Nic said.

  Isobel nodded at her brother, who’d come to the door. “How’s the campaign going for the new robotic line?”

  He answered, but his voice was bored. “It’ll make us millions; I’m sure.”

  Nic grinned at Isobel and said, “Evan wants to have dinner with us; would you like to come too?”

  “Another time, perhaps,” he said and backed into his office. Turning away from them, he ambled toward his desk just as the elevator dinged, and one of the security guards arrived holding two bags with Japanese writing on it. Clearly, Evan’s lunch had arrived. Too bad he’d be eating it alone.

  “Suit yourself,” Nic shrugged and followed Isobel into the elevator.

  It was quiet all the way down to the bottom floor, but as soon as Isobel and Nic cleared the building, the other woman burst out laughing. “Did you see the look on Evan’s face? I assume he hit on you?”

  Nic grinned and nodded. “Basically told me that we were going to have dinner together. And sushi lunch.”

  She snorted. “And you invited him to eat with you and Ian and then invited me as well? That’s priceless. The look on his face.”

  Walking to the right of the front door, Nic followed Isobel to a little grassy spot with trees and a bench. An ashtray made of pebbled rock stood a discreet distance away for those that smoked, but the area was empty.

  “Evan is—"

  Isobel grinned. “Evan’s a world-class ass.”

  Nic shared the smile, glad that she hadn’t had to say it. “Why do I have the feeling that looks are about the only thing he shares with you and Ian?”

  Isobel sat on the sun-warmed bench facing the breeze. She closed her eyes for a moment, losing the grin, just a smidge. When she continued, her voice had dropped to a musing tone. “Evan has always been difficult. He’s brilliant at what he does, a born salesman, but it’s always seemed like a game to him. Younger siblings were a nuisance until we were all adults, and you’ve already figured out that he runs through women like silk ties.”

  “Why did he decide to come and work for Ian then? I would think a man like that would want to make his own mark on the world, not work for a brother he considered a nuisance for much of his life.”

  “I’ve often wondered that myself,” Isobel said, and then shook her head. “For all his brilliance, Evan can be lazy. I think the idea of running his own marketing business didn’t appeal to him because it was too much work. He likes the thrill of the campaign and the social amenities but leaves the real work to his department head.”

  Nic filed that away because it was interesting and because it explained quite a bit about the family dynamic that she’d seen. “And this get together at the beach, is this something that happens often? With the whole family getting together?”

  Isobel smiled again, this time with genuine warmth. “Every single year, our parents spend a month at the beach home they own, and the three of us drop what we’re doing and spend at least two full days with them. Ian and I tend to go up on weekends too when we don’t have a major project going.” She shook her head, “Our folks have threatened to hunt Evan down if he doesn’t go, so he deigns to be in our presence for the mandatory two days, even though he’d rather be anywhere but with all of us.”

  Nic had been standing, stretching her back while they talked, and just as she was about to ask another question, something caught her eye. The white panel van parked half a block down the street wasn’t something unusual, being in the business district, but the Hispanic male dressed in black with a baseball cap pulled down low over his face was what caught her attention—the limping male. This far away, she couldn’t make out his features, but Nic was sure he was the man who’d broken into the house last night.

  “You don’t happen to have the keys to your car, do you?”

  Isobel’s eyebrows knitted as she shook her head. “My purse is in my office.”

  Nic thought fast. No way was she leaving Ian to run after the man who was easing away from the curb. That was a foolish way to get herself into trouble and irresponsible in her duties as bo
dyguard. “Come with me back inside.”

  “What is it?”

  “The man who broke into Ian’s home last night was watching the building. Don’t look down the street; just follow me back inside, please.”

  “Of course.”

  Nic walked slowly but with purpose, and Isobel followed. She didn’t think the man knew that he’d been seen since he didn’t speed off. He’d been too far away for her to see the license plate, but she could describe the vehicle. The secretary smiled as they came back inside and through the metal detector. “I need to use your cell phone,” she said to the younger woman.

  The girl’s eyes widened a fraction, but when Isobel nodded, she reached into her desk drawer and withdrew a phone in a bright pink case. “Am I in trouble, Ms. Jamison?”

  “No, Chelsea,” Isobel said. “She just needs to make a call and doesn’t have time to go all the way upstairs.” Her voice was calm and almost nonchalant, but Nic heard the faint tremor.

  Turning back to the large glass doors, Nic stepped away and dialed the number just as she noticed a black Mercedes turn the corner and begin to follow. Nic didn’t believe in coincidence, so what the hell was that car doing following the van?

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Nic, are you awake?”

  Lindsay never sounded like she was sleepy. The perpetually chipper girl probably rolled out of bed wide awake and happy. “Yes, what do you need?”

  “I want you on a roving patrol around Ian’s house and the office. Keep an eye out for a white, older model, panel van with no decals. The driver is a Hispanic male, thirties, wearing all black, with a black baseball cap.” Then she described the Mercedes, rattled off the plate, and gave descriptions of the two men she’d seen. “I don’t know how those two are involved, but this is the second time I’ve seen that car.”

  “And coincidences don’t exist,” Lindsay said. The girl was a sponge when it came to soaking up the tools and rules of the trade, and this was something both Nic and Kei said often.

  “Exactly. If you spot them, report to me immediately, but keep your distance.”

  “Got it. What about Ms. Jamison?”

  “I’ll have Cody find someone to take care of her unless I can convince her to move into Ian’s house for the interim.”

  “Must be nice having the chief of police at your beck and call,” Lindsay laughed before disconnecting the call.

  The big guy wasn’t at anyone’s beck and call, no matter his Labrador puppy act from the other night. She placed a call to his cell and left a message for him to call her back. He wasn’t going to answer a number he didn’t recognize, and chances were that he was still in physical therapy. A car crash had sidelined his chief activities for a month while he recouped, which seriously cut into his surf time.

  “Did you happen to mean Cody Sanders?” Isobel asked, coming up to stand next to Nic.

  She nodded. “The man, the myth, the legend in his own mind.”

  “I’ve met him, of course, at different functions. He seems very nice.”

  Nic swallowed a smile. There was interest there. Isobel was too casual about him, and it was as if she were forcing herself not to ask anything more. “He’s my go-to when things begin to get interesting in a case. My company will foot the bill for the off-duty officer that he'll assign to watch the house.”

  Isobel shivered slightly. “I think I’d like that. I still don’t want to move into Ian’s, but having someone watch my house at night would be a big comfort. Especially after Ian’s break-in. And we will take care of the cost, just add it to the final expense report when this whole thing ends.”

  “Sounds good, but I would still rather have you both under one roof. I can’t force you, but please keep it in mind.”

  “Somehow, I think I’d find myself hogtied in his home if you really thought I was in danger.”

  Nic let her surprise show. “A very astute observation, Ms. Jamison.”

  Letting out a short bark of a laugh, Isobel put both hands on her hips and said, “You don’t get to be the CEO of a corporation like this without having some insight into the people around you. I read your file and don’t have any illusions about your dedication to this job, or your ability to handle it. And I promise not to press charges if it comes to that, Ms. Montgomery.”

  Sharing a smile, they both turned to Chelsea. Nic returned her phone and then led the way to the elevator.

  “Let’s just hope it never even comes close to that,” Nic said.

  “Amen, sister.”

  * * *

  “You saw this car twice?” Kei asked. When Nic said she had and rattled off the information about both vehicles and the descriptions, Kei wrote it down. “I’ll check it out.”

  The line disconnected, and Kei leaned back in her chair. Sitting on her desk was the FBI profile of two killers and descriptions of two men in a black Mercedes. Coincidence? The gut feeling she had and the fact that one Drake Page was in town said that was no; this was not a coincidence. The profile suggested the “unsubs” pulled big jobs and were able to move around easily between towns, jobs, and killings. Last sighting was Kansas.

  Picking up her secure house line, Kei called Courtney. “I need you to get into the traffic cameras and find a car for me. I want any prints with faces enlarged and on my desk as soon as you have them. See if you can find a pattern.”

  “You got it. Do you need ATM or security surveillance as well?”

  Kei thought about it. Hacking into all those cameras was going to take time—time that they might not have. “Just the traffic cams at this point.”

  “What’s the description?”

  Kei gave her the descriptions that Nic provided, and Courtney promised to call as soon as she had something. The girl was fast, and even with such a daunting task, Kei bet herself a dollar that Courtney would have something by the end of the day. “Also, Nic gave me the IP address of a computer that belongs to our client’s Admin Assistant. Look for any emails that might be blackmail.”

  Drake’s card taunted her from the corner of her desk. She’d thrown it away once, only to get it out of the small trash can and fling it back into the polished surface of her workspace. She’d have to call him sooner or later, but right now, she wanted to get as much information as she could. Then she could shove it at him, and he wouldn’t have to come back. Maybe ever.

  Kei knew her luck wasn’t that good. The world was shit, and for whatever reason, she always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when the killings started. Having an over-developed sixth sense had saved her life on more than one occasion, and right now, it was screaming at her. Nic was one of her best agents—vigilant and capable, but she was coming back from an injury that had rocked her, putting her emotions and capabilities in question. Not for Kei, but for herself.

  The Jamisons were leaving for the beach house retreat tomorrow. They’d be out of town for two days, and Nic would make sure they weren’t followed. That respite would give Kei some breathing room to gather more information about the men in the black Mercedes. And with Lindsay roving the area looking for the white van, hopefully, she’d have a license plate soon. Then Kei could put together a clearer picture of what should have been a simple job.

  Drake’s unwelcome appearance was a clear signal that nothing was simple, and her relatively uncomplicated life of the last two years was over. Drake followed death stats as if it were a sport, and the fact that his sixth sense was a good as hers shouldn’t have pissed her off, but it did. Because so far, he’d almost gotten her killed twice.

  This third time meeting with him rang with inevitability.

  Chapter 11

  “Tell me about your parents,” Nic said.

  Ian’s plan of treating his bodyguard as an employee lasted all of Monday. By the evening, he was bored and missed her teasing, even though he’d never admit it out loud. He wasn’t one to just give up, so he’d taken himself and his dinner up to his room to sulk. He’d slept like shit as well.


  It was Tuesday morning, and he’d decided his imposed solitude sucked, so he was back to his half-baked plan of getting to know his bodyguard. They’d gotten up before the sun to head over to Miriam’s house. Nic nosed around, and he’d tried to see if anything looked out of place. Nothing did. She never took her work home with her, and there were no tell-tale signs of a break-in.

  So, they’d begun the trek to Monterey and his parents’ beach house. He chose scenic Highway 1 because he liked the view and the little towns along the way. He’d wanted to fly, but Nic refused, saying a nice car ride along the coast would be better.

  “They’re great. My dad’s an inventor, which is how they made their money. Mom was a school teacher for twenty-five years. She still subs occasionally when she misses being in the classroom, but they travel quite a bit now that she’s retired.”

  “What kinds of things has your dad invented?”

  Ian glanced at Nic. She’d been tense for the first hour of the drive, watching her mirror intently, as well as the passing streets. Then she’d relaxed and settled in to watch the ocean as he drove, only occasionally peering behind them. He hadn’t been sure what to say to her, even though he burned with questions about her scar and the relationship that almost got her killed. She wore white shorts that showed off her long legs and a peach T-shirt that set off her skin to perfection. Ian was hyper-aware of every movement, every exhalation, every molecule of her being.

  It was damned hard to drive with a semi-erection and a burning need to kiss all the skin exposed. While she’d made it clear that she wasn’t going to pursue whatever this was between them, he knew she was just as aware of him. Hard not to be while trapped in the car together.

  At least she was speaking to him again. He’d been an ass yesterday, and while he didn’t think she’d minded all that much, she’d taken the role he’d assigned and shown him exactly what he wanted. She’d been the epitome of an efficient secretary, driven him home, had dinner delivered, and then locked down the house nice and tight before pulling out her laptop and ignoring him for the rest of the evening. He’d hated every minute of it—hence the sulking.