Guarding Him

by Kori David

  “He’s done quite a bit of software development, but his passion is gaming. He’s famous for inventing that non-stick skillet that you see those midnight infomercials.”

  She laughed, the sound ringing through the car. “I love that skillet. I bought it years ago.”

  He grinned. “That one alone paid for my college education.”

  “You’re originally from Oklahoma. What was it like growing up there?”

  “It was alright. If I’d have played football or wanted to be a farmer, it would have been perfect.” He shrugged, “I was a geeky kid that lived for computers and video games.”

  “I’ve never been to Oklahoma, but I’ve always wanted to travel to the different states and visit all the sights. Like the biggest ball of yarn, and Dodge City and Tombstone. You know, the cheesy touristy stuff.”

  Ian glanced at her, seeing the pensive look on her face. “Where did you grow up?”

  It took a moment, and he didn’t think she was going to answer, but she finally said, “Upstate New York.”

  “I’ve been to the city for business but have never been upstate. I’ve never really traveled for pleasure as an adult. The parents dragged us kids all over the place when we were younger. When I turned eighteen, I left the state as fast as I could for college and never looked back.”

  “You were a man on a mission. Did you feel the need to prove yourself?”

  The soft question was genuinely curious and contained none of the teasing he was used to from her. He answered her questions because he wanted her to know him—not just the stats in his file, but him—Ian. It was the first time he could recall wanting to share memories or experiences with a woman.

  “Not really. At least not in the way you mean. I had so many ideas in my head, and I loved to learn. Mom and Dad both passed on that passion to me, the love of knowledge. When I wasn’t in school, I was in my room reading. I was just excited about the world of possibilities, and UC Berkley seemed the best place to start.”

  “I never went to college.”

  Ian didn’t think it was possible to shock him, but that quietly spoken statement did. “How is that possible? You’re obviously brilliant; not many people could read and understand my files. And you do.”

  She smiled. “I’m just a thick-necked jock with a gun, remember?”

  “That’s going to haunt me forever, isn’t it?”

  Shrugging, she turned back to the ocean. “I couldn’t wait to leave home at eighteen either, but I didn’t run to college. I ran to the Army.”

  “Were your parents proud of you?”

  Nic’s laugh held no humor. In fact, it was such a bitter sound coming out of such a lovely mouth. “Oh, no. Having their precious daughter do something as mundane as serving her country shocked the pants right off them. You see, they’d planned my entire future, and my ideas on how I wanted to live my life never even entered their minds. Thank God for my sister. She was happy to do whatever they wanted and never gave them an instant of trouble.”

  “That sounds—"

  “Like something from the Victorian era?” Nic rolled her eyes and then smiled. “But enough about my sordid history. I’m hungry. Let’s stop and get some lunch.”

  “As the lady wishes.”

  Ian wanted to know more, but what little she described made some pieces fall into place for him. She’d been able to dance and flirt with some of the richest snobs in San Francisco society, never batted an eyelash at the table settings, or showed the least nervousness during the entire event. He’d been so caught up in the woman herself that it was only now that he looked back and realized that he’d subconsciously noticed those things.

  Nicolette Montgomery came from money. And if the little she’d said about her parents was true, and Nic didn’t strike him as the type of woman to lie about anything, then she came from old money. Those kinds of parents were society people who expected women to marry equally wealthy and spend the rest of their lives doing charity work.

  And she’d rebelled and joined the Army. No wonder his home and his money didn’t mean anything to her. She’d left that life, and from her flat-toned retelling of it, never looked back. All of that made Ian want her even more. Nic was a woman who would never want him for what he could give her. She seemed leery of the very reason most women of his acquaintance wanted to be with him—money, power, influence—even notoriety in some instances.

  It never really occurred to him that he’d run into a woman who might not want to be with him because he was rich.

  * * *

  The salty smell of the ocean and the cool breeze lifted Nic’s spirits. Not that she was dreading this little getaway with Ian’s parents, but she could feel the strings slowly drawing her into his life. How was she supposed to remain detached when she found herself answering his questions about her life—something she never did—and now she was about to meet his mom and dad, a couple who didn’t know she was only a bodyguard and not a potential life-mate for their son.

  The house was on a bluff, overlooking the Pacific. It had two stories with large windows that maximized the view. Light blue siding blended into the skyline and made a nice contrast with the deep green plants and trees that lined the circular drive. Nic couldn’t see the beach side, but what she could see looked like a private cove shared with only four other homes.

  “You know, at some point, you should consider taking me someplace nice for a change.” She didn’t look at him when she said it, but she heard the quiet chuckle before they both got out of the car.

  The trunk had barely lifted when the front door opened, and Ian’s mother came out with arms out. Nic recognized her from Ian’s file. “My baby’s here.”

  She was fast too. Nic felt the breeze as the little woman swept by and had Ian in a bear hug. Ian’s mother was petite, with the same chestnut hair Ian had but Isobel’s deep brown eyes. A man joined them in the driveway. Ian’s father was tall and robust, with black hair and sparkling green eyes. They were a lovely couple, and when they were done hugging their youngest son, they turned that energy to her.

  “Mom, Dad, this is Nicolette Montgomery, and she’s my guest this weekend.”

  “Nice to meet you, dear. I’m Harriet, and this handsome old guy is Angus. We’re always happy to have a full house when we come out to visit.”

  “Who’s old?” Angus said, giving his wife a quick pat on the butt before offering his hand for a shake. “Get ready to put on a couple of pounds, Nicolette. My wife bought enough food to feed an army. She’s originally from the South, so it’s ingrained in her DNA to follow you around offering food.”

  “Grab your stuff and come into the house for something to drink,” Harriet said.

  Nic couldn’t help the grin. Maybe her life would have been different if her parents had been playful and loving, but her mother would have died of mortification if her father had ever slapped her playfully on the ass in public.

  “I put you two on the second floor, the adjoining rooms with the balcony. That way, if you need separate rooms, you have them, and if you don’t, well then, you don’t. Izzy already took her usual room on the other side of the hall, and if Evan shows up with someone, then he can take the suite over the garage. You know how he likes his own entrance.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Ian smiled at his folks, and Nic had to catch her breath at the transformation. “That was very tactful of you,” he said, before giving her another big hug and getting a discreet wink from his father.

  The frowny guy that she’d driven up with was suddenly boyishly charming and smiling—with his entire face. It lit him up and made him incredibly handsome. Not that he wasn’t before, but good grief, this Ian could be devastating. He got his charm from his parents, who were an absolute delight.

  Up the stairs, Ian led her to a room with a Jack and Jill bathroom. Her room was done in ocean colors with a seashell motif. Looking through the bathroom door to Ian’s room, his was done in darker blues with sailboats.

  “I’m not sure we�
�re at the sharing a bathroom stage,” Nic said through the connecting door. “I mean, what if my bra gets tangled up with your boxer briefs, then where would we be?”

  She’d thrown her bag in a chair and explored the room. She wasn’t quite as security-conscious here because she was sure they weren’t followed, but she still had a small arsenal with her, just in case. When there was no answer, Nic went through the bathroom into the other room. Ian sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands, shaking his head.

  “Was it something I said?” Nic asked, leaning against the door frame. She fought the smile trying to come through. She’d already broken the promise she’d made to herself about keeping their relationship purely about business. She couldn’t seem to help herself when it came to teasing the man.

  He looked up at her with a frown. “I don’t know whether to throttle you or kiss you.”

  “Either one might be dangerous to your wellbeing.” She’d already spent entirely too much time thinking about the kiss they had already shared. Adding another one for compare and contrast wasn’t the smartest move. At least, that’s what her brain said, but her lips tingled at the thought. Traitorous other parts of her body tingled as well.

  “I’ll be sure to lock my side of the bathroom, so your frilly underthings aren’t tempted to mingle with mine.”

  Nic could feel her eyebrow arch. “You have frilly underthings? This is a side of you I hadn’t considered.”

  Ian shot her a glare and left the room, headed downstairs. Nic followed him, no longer able to contain the grin. As assignments went, this was turning out to be a fun one for the most part. Normally, being a bodyguard was boring. The police were very good at finding and catching the bad people that forced their clients into needing a bodyguard in the first place. So, she stood ready for action without ever getting any. With the exception of that last case, but she corralled her thoughts before they could go down that path.

  Now, if she could figure out who the guys in the Mercedes were and who the mystery man with the limp in the white van was. That was the only shadow in an otherwise easy case. Shrugging, she’d turn over those concerns to her very smart and lethal boss and would keep her fingers crossed that Lindsay would run across the van and snag that license plate. The girl was eager to please; she just hoped she was smart enough to eat and sleep too. Sometimes, Lindsay could get tunnel vision and forget the mundane aspects of life—like food.

  * * *

  Nestor placed the call. It rang for a minute, and then he disconnected. He wasn’t dumb enough to leave a message, and the guy on the other end wasn’t where he could take a call; otherwise, he would have picked up.

  He was stuck. Pretending to be a visitor at the hospital had only shown him that they had security on his original target, so that was a dead end. He still couldn’t believe that some woman had kicked the shit out of him at that rich dude’s house. Nestor was pissed about that, but more than that, he was embarrassed. Carla hit him all the time, but she was his old lady, and he’d told himself that he never hit her back because she was a woman.

  He wanted to find that woman—what he would do once he did, he wasn’t sure, but he wouldn’t be unprepared next time. Revenge drove him as he cruised through San Francisco. He rolled slowly by the rich guy’s mansion, but the place was quiet. Grabbing a coffee from the local chain store, Nestor decided to watch the business again. He’d seen a couple of women outside the day before, but he was too far away to really see their features. One had short hair, was tall and lean, while the other was shorter and curvy—definitely not the one he was looking for. He’d squinted hard at the tall one but couldn’t be sure if she was the same woman or not.

  When the burner cell chirped, Nestor flinched, fumbling his coffee and spilling a bit of the hot liquid right onto his crotch. “Fucking-shit-hell,” he grunted. Digging the phone out of his pocket, he hit the call button. “Yeah?”

  “Report,” the distorted voice barked.

  “I got nothing. The guy’s got some kind of thug bodyguard that tried to fight me. I barely got away.” Nestor wasn’t about to tell this guy the truth about what happened. “I’m sitting down the street now from the business, but no one’s moving.”

  “Forget about the business. Word is that the family is out of town for a couple of days. Go back to the house tonight and get me something, or you don’t get paid.”

  The line disconnected, and Nestor tossed the phone onto the seat next to him. Taking a couple of sips of his coffee, he shifted his legs, trying to ease the pressure off his right. He was bruised up good after that kick, and then he’d fallen on it, adding to the pain. What he needed was some Oxy or some of that Tylenol with Codeine that Carla liked, but that shit made him sleepy, and he needed this money.

  Better to go home and get some rest before he got into the house again. At least it was supposed to be empty this time. Nestor wasn’t up to another fight. The van fussed and sputtered before starting up. Great. The last thing he needed was his cousin’s van giving him problems. He had enough of his own.

  Carla was going to leave him for sure if he didn’t come home with some money.

  * * *

  Lindsay watched the man in the van from a distance. She’d staked out Ian’s home, and when the van rolled by, she knew it was the one from Nic’s description, what she could see of the guy matched too. She followed him, and when he pulled in a spot close enough to watch Jamison Electronics, she knew she had the right van. He talked on his phone and then sat drinking coffee for a while. When he decided to leave, Lindsay followed.

  A small rush of adrenaline flooded her body. The hair on her neck stood up, and she thought it was the excitement of the chase. She was actually doing something interesting for a change, instead of her normal boring gopher job. Not that she minded, she was happy for the work, and even though Kei Whyte scared her a little, she was the best in the business, and Lindsay was learning a lot from her. She liked Nic better because Nic was so approachable and nice, and she supported Lindsay as she learned the ropes.

  Easing the gear shift into drive, Lindsay pulled away from the curb. She was going to be able to give Kei some good intel once she figured out what the license plate was and where the van was going. Flipping on her radio, she hummed along with the latest top forty song and made sure to keep at least four cars between herself and the van.

  A quick look in the mirror showed normal traffic. Delivery trucks, a couple of bike messengers doing their rounds, at least one long sleek limo, and the rest were normal commuters. Nothing unusual. This was going to be easy.

  Chapter 12

  Kei parked her car near the wharf and slowly got out. Police tape prohibited anyone not in law enforcement from entry. Walking slowly, she circled the tape, noticing only a couple of interested pedestrians hanging out in a group off to the side. They looked like dock workers. The news stations hadn’t arrived yet, and she wanted to be gone by the time they did. Kei hated having her picture taken.

  “I wondered when you’d get here.”

  Kei suppressed the shiver his voice brought. Drake Page was the only person alive who could still sneak up on her. “Who’s the vic?”

  “Probably a hooker, but it’s hard to tell.”

  Shoving her hands in the pockets of her jeans, Kei moved with Drake as he held the tape up for her to duck under. Officers shifted uneasily and looked away from the big FBI agent as he led her forward. Some things never changed. Drake’s imposing size and looks made people uncomfortable. Kei thought they instinctively knew he was a predator. He made her uncomfortable too, but it had nothing to do with his looks.

  “How bad?”

  “Her face and skull were caved in, and she’s been cut up and burned.”

  “Jesus,” Kei whispered. “Is this what you hoped to find?”

  When he stopped abruptly, she halted as well. Turning to look at him, his face was set in grim lines, but his eyes were chips of topaz ice. “I never hope for this, Kei. You of all people should know that
.”

  She shrugged, not giving in to the impulse to take back her words. They were hard, but so was Drake, and he could take it. “You can’t catch a killer like this unless he kills again and leaves some evidence.”

  “You’re a hard woman,” he muttered, echoing her own thoughts. “Even if it’s true.”

  She shrugged again and continued toward the alley between the vacant warehouses. It was small and dirty, more of a throughway than an alley meant for trash cans. “He didn’t bother to hide the body.”

  Drake kept pace with her. “They.”

  Kei nodded. “Then, you were right.” It wasn’t a question, and she knew what the answer was. He wouldn’t have come otherwise. Drake went where the monsters played, and right now, San Francisco was the playground.

  “I usually am.” He nodded to the detective taking notes. “It’s not a pretty sight.”

  Breathing through her mouth to help with the smell, she said, “It never is.”

  The San Francisco PD had the area locked down, so no one could see anything unless they walked into the alley itself. That’s why they hadn’t bothered to cover the body. Someone snapped pictures off to the side, getting every angle of the body as well as getting pics of the small markers placed here and there around the victim.

  What was left of a human life lay in a partial fetal position. The normal salty clean air changed into a putrid burned pork smell mixed with a coppery tang that she tasted. It wasn’t something Kei had ever run across, so her brain instantly tried to categorize the texture, the aroma, and the taste of burned flesh. Gritting her teeth, she stepped closer, taking a good look. Not that it would help. She had information on a couple of hookers that had gone missing from their streets, and she’d hoped to be able to help, but the heap of ashy remains on the ground would need help from a forensic dentist or some other specialist to identify.