Guarding Him

by Kori David

  “Someone has been trying to steal the plans I’ve been working on. The latest attempt was tonight, and the IP address of the computer responsible is located inside this apartment.”

  “Bullshit,” Leigh said. She looked to the side as she said it and reached for the glass of wine—probably to calm her nerves. To her credit, the glass didn’t shake, and her voice had been steady. But, Nic had seen the tiniest lift of her lips as she said it. That micro-expression was satisfaction, hidden as soon as it happened. She’d have been surprised if anyone but Ian had seen it.

  Turning her head to gauge his reaction, Nic had no doubt that he’d seen the infinitesimal lift at the corner of her mouth as well. His eyes had turned slate-gray, and if looks could kill, Leigh Ashmore would have been dead.

  “And do you have proof?” This from the admiral, who’d leaned forward on the couch, forearms on his knees. He had a considering look on his face, not blatant disbelief.

  Isobel crossed her arms at that point, and her gaze bounced between her brother and Leigh. “Yes, he does. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here.” She took a step forward, “You scheming little bitch, this is the second time you’ve tried to steal plans from us.”

  Cody had both hands around Isobel’s waist as she began to take a second step. “I think we’d all like to know what kind of proof you have, Ian,” he said. Isobel shot a fuming look over her shoulder before her back went ramrod straight. Cody pulled his hands away and up in a peace-I-surrender pose.

  “What I want to know is why this,” Leigh motioned a manicured hand in Nic’s direction, “person is here?” As deflection went, it wasn’t very good. She stuck her nose in the air as she made eye contact with everyone, “How dare you all come into my house and accuse me of something that I have not done. I am going to have to rethink this whole merger idea, Ian. I don’t know if I can be professionally or romantically involved with someone who accuses me of these things.”

  Ian’s voice was quiet as he spoke. “I didn’t press charges against you the first time, as a favor to your uncle. He’s here because I want him to understand exactly what kind of person you are, and he’s going to stand by as you get arrested.”

  “Arrested for what? Something you can’t prove? I have no idea what you’re talking about or why you felt the need to bring over your new fling.” Her voice lowered as if they were alone. “It’s embarrassing. To you.”

  “Ian, I don’t have a warrant to search this apartment or her laptop.”

  Nic watched the triumph light up Leigh’s eyes at Cody’s words. She thought this was the end of it, and they’d all just troop out and leave. The back and forth about probable cause became a heated discussion between them all. Nic watched everyone, but she especially watched Leigh. Ian was right, the woman was guilty, but there was no way she would willingly open her laptop to show the chief of the San Francisco Police Department her culpability. However, Nic had a feeling that she was guilty of more than mere hacking. Ms. Ashmore wanted Ian’s plans for herself, but only slightly more than she wanted the man.

  That meant that she wouldn’t have hired two cold-blooded killers to steal the plans and then kill Ian. No, she didn’t want him hurt. She wanted him back, even while hiring someone to steal his plans. Enter a local thug for hire. Someone willing to blackmail Ian’s secretary to get a copy of the plans, but not necessarily willing to commit murder.

  Nic tuned out the conversation around her. What they needed was a warrant. And to get that, they did need probable cause. Nic had an idea about how to do that. She put her thumb and middle finger in her mouth, sucked in a breath, and blew out a whistle loud enough to get everyone’s attention. Isobel covered her ears, the admiral, who’d been silent, grinned, and both of the other men shot irritated looks at her. Leigh Ashmore winced and choked on her wine.

  “Everyone needs to calm down,” Nic said in the sudden silence. “Obviously, Ms. Ashmore isn’t stupid enough to just let the chief or Ian into her computer.” Nic enjoyed Leigh’s face going from innocence to fury, knowing she couldn’t retort. “So, what you both need is some probable cause—that gets a warrant to Ms. Ashmore’s personal laptop and anything else of use inside her home and business. I have the answer to that.”

  “I think it’s time that you all leave,” Leigh said. No one moved. She put her wine glass back down and pointed to the door. “I demand that you all leave now. You can’t just come in here and accuse me of theft and corporate espionage.” Still, no one moved. Leigh’s face flushed red. Nic could tell she was trying not to scream at them. She wanted them out.

  “How about I tell a little story because no one is going anywhere. You opened the door and invited us in, including the chief of police. So, calling the cops is pointless.”

  “She has you there,” the admiral said. He looked like he was enjoying himself to a certain extent, sitting on the couch watching everyone. “Let’s hear what she has to say.”

  “She’s Ian’s new secretary and mistress, Uncle Henry. I don’t give a rat’s ass what she has to say. Besides, maybe Jamison Electronics should have checked her out a little more thoroughly. I know I did, and you’ll never guess what I found.”

  “So, you have fangs after all,” Nic said with a little smile. She knew what was coming and was honestly surprised it hadn’t come up until now.

  Leigh smiled, the uplift of her lips an ugly twist of triumph. “Maybe the person you should be looking at is right next to you, Ian. Her full name is Nicolette Barrington-Montgomery, and her father owns BME Corp. He’s your direct competitor, and she’s been in your house and office, pretending to be something she’s not. Maybe you should ask her about your precious plans.”

  * * *

  Frank whistled while he worked. He meticulously cleaned out the Mercedes, vacuuming the trunk and the interior. Starting inside and moving to the trunk, he repeated that process several times. His short hair was covered completely with one of those net things that food workers used. Frank was willing to do many things to avoid leaving evidence behind, but shaving his head wasn’t one of them. But he did regularly shave all the hair off his body. Eugene did the same thing.

  Frank stopped and adjusted his crotch. Damn, but his balls were sore from the recent activity.

  They’d kept the pretty woman alive most of the day, having their fun until Eugene had gone overboard and killed her. Frank wouldn’t have minded keeping her a bit longer. She’d been so fresh and young. He shrugged; he had some good memories to work with. Continuing to vacuum, he turned his thoughts to the job. It was time to switch vehicles.

  He moved on to polishing all the surfaces inside the car, using a couple of different products to remove any prints and anything else that might have lingered from their days of using this rental. The car smelled lemony fresh and gleamed after he finished with it. Eugene was asleep upstairs. This time, Frank made sure he’d be out for hours. A couple of sleeping pills crushed up into his drink did the job when Frank needed longer lengths of time away from his brother.

  He’d dropped the body of the woman hours ago in a dumpster behind a vacant building near the wharf. The smell of the ocean and fish typically obscured the smell of a rotting body for days, and another fire would draw too much attention. He didn’t worry too much about DNA on her, as he’d made sure both he and Eugene had taken precautions.

  Once he was done, he slipped inside the Mercedes and started it up, gloves and hairnet still on. Then he drove to the rental company’s satellite location in San Jose. He didn’t like to use the same location twice, so he picked nice locations all over the place. Parking where the camera couldn’t pick him up, he got out of the car and locked it, slipping the hair net off his head. He kept the gloves on as he took the keys to the night drop slot.

  That transaction completed, he walked a couple of miles away to the front of an apartment complex where a taxi would arrive in exactly ten minutes. Two hours later, he was back in the warehouse with an older model gray Nissan Maxima that he’d rented a week a
go and had parked in long-term parking at the airport. A midsize sedan that blended in with every other midsize sedan in the city. He’d miss the luxury of the Mercedes but knew he needed to be extra cautious now. Three murders in the city were too many, especially in a place that was difficult to bury the evidence.

  He’d been watching the news and knew they’d found the first two bodies. Frank wasn’t too concerned. He was meticulous in his cleanups, almost to the point of being OCD. That was how they’d managed to stay free for so long. He and his brother would be categorized as serial killers by the FBI, even though he didn’t consider himself one. There was no compulsion within him, no overwhelming desire to torture and maim. A businessman with no qualms about killing was his mindset, and if he had to do a little torture now and then, well, that was part of the biz. Now, Eugene—he was the one. The one they’d want to study.

  Frank was good and tired now. It was the middle of the night, and he needed some decent sleep to come up with a game plan for Ian Jamison. With the competition out of the way, he should be easy pickings. The blonde woman with him might be the key, or maybe the sister. He’d have to think about it.

  He peeked in on his brother, who snored softly from his bed. Frank estimated that he’d be able to sleep for a solid six hours before Eugene started moving around. Frank slipped into his own bed and set an alarm. Eugene didn’t do well by himself for very long, so Frank would make sure he was up before his brother was. They’d have to play it safe tomorrow and sit around planning, in case the woman was found.

  He closed his eyes and wondered what it’d be like if he didn’t have to watch Eugene constantly. How nice that would be.

  * * *

  Ian felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach. His bodyguard belonged to one of the richest families in the country. She was a fucking Barrington-Montgomery. No wonder she hadn’t been impressed with his house or money. Her family was wealthy enough to buy him out a hundred times over. He’d already guessed that she came from a wealthy family, but he’d never guessed that she came from a family whose name was synonymous with power. Her family name was as recognizable as the Kennedys.

  “Is that true?” Isobel asked. He heard the question even as his mind spun.

  “Yes,” Nic said it simply with no apology or inflection in her voice. She stood proud in her baggy sweater and jeans, her back straight and her eyes steady. Nic was an honest-to-God heiress, and she stood there in non-name-brand jeans and a sweater. Her running shoes were a good brand but not the most expensive, he was sure.

  “I think you might be looking in the wrong place, Ian. I’m not your enemy here,” Leigh purred, the cat-like smile on her face showing a gleaming triumph.

  The sugary bite of Leigh’s voice snapped him back from where he’d been spinning. He wasn’t sure what game Nic might be playing, but his gut told him she didn’t have anything to do with trying to steal his plans. Plus, he was confident that BME wasn’t anywhere close to being ready to present plans for the project he was working on, even though they were one of the biggest electronics firms on the East Coast.

  Before he could speak, Nic held up a hand.

  “Let me tell a quick story about a girl and a project,” she began. All eyes turned to her, and Ian had a sinking feeling in the pit of his gut. She couldn’t be involved; he just wasn’t that wrong about people. Even when Leigh had stolen his plans before, he hadn’t been surprised.

  “This should be good,” Leigh said, grin still in place.

  “Oh, it is,” Nic replied. “The story begins with a spoiled rich girl who wants to save her flailing business so badly that she will not only sleep with the owner of a different company, but she will actively attempt corporate theft and sabotage—to the point of hiring someone to blackmail and possibly kidnap the owner to get her hands on those plans.” Nic moved forward as she spoke, putting herself within reach of the other woman, the focus of her attention.

  Ian saw Leigh drop her folded arms and take a step back. He couldn’t see the look on Nic’s face, but her voice was low and flat. “Enter a man by the name of Nestor Pacheco. By all accounts, a street thug with a petty crime rap sheet that included burglary, drug possession, and assault. What I don’t know yet is how the little princess and the thug managed to meet. But I do know that you hired this man, Leigh. You hired him to steal Ian’s plans, and he is the reason that Miriam Jones is in the hospital.”

  “That is preposterous,” Leigh said. Her nose rose into the air as she shook her head of hair, throwing her shoulders back in a defensive posture. Leigh’s eyes shifted restlessly around the room before settling back on Nic.

  “Unfortunately, Nestor Pacheco was murdered,” Nic continued. “However, I think there may be a way to prove that you two were in contact.”

  Ian jumped in at that point. “I also have a way to prove that Leigh hacked into my computer.”

  “That’s great, but without a search warrant, there’s nothing the police department can do,” Cody said. “Unless Leigh willingly lets us search her home?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said. Her voice was cold, matching the ice chips in her eyes.

  “Not that I want my niece to be guilty,” the admiral interjected, “but I’d like to know how Miss Barrington-Montgomery proposes to give you that probable cause. Or even you, Ian?”

  He clearly recognized the name. Ian knew BME had government contracts as well. Instead of answering, Nic dialed a number on her phone and held it to her ear. “Courtney. I need you to dial the number listed in Nestor’s burner phone. I’ll stay on the line.”

  A tense moment passed, and then a phone began ringing from the middle of the kitchen. Sitting on the counter was a designer purse, and the noise came from within it. Leigh’s back stiffened, but she made no move to touch her purse.

  “That proves nothing,” she said. “I get calls all the time. That is pure coincidence.”

  “You can hang up now, Courtney. But stay on the line, please.” Nic turned toward Ian. Her eyebrow was raised with what he’d come to recognize as a challenge. “Would you please call Leigh’s personal cell?”

  He felt the muscle in his jaw work. Nic was pissed, and this was just one way she was letting it show. Ian was guilty only of evading Cody to have this confrontation. His eyes narrowed, “I don’t have her personal cell number. Not for several years now. And, especially not after she attempted to steal my plans the first time.” Let her stew on that.

  Nic nodded once and turned toward the admiral, who still sat on the couch, amusement lurking in his face. “Sir, would you call your niece, please?” When he nodded and began digging in a coat pocket, she said into her phone, “Courtney, when I say go, call the number again.”

  “This proves nothing,” Leigh said, her voice slightly shrill. “I have asked you all to leave, and I am about to call the police.” She turned to Cody and pointed a finger, “I’m also going to call the city manager and the mayor first thing in the morning as well. I think they’d like to know what their chief of police is up to at night. Harassment is an ugly word,” Leigh said.

  Just then, Ian heard a melody playing. Again, from the purse on the counter. Nic told Courtney to dial from Nestor’s phone again, and a second ringing started up from the purse. At that point, Cody pulled out his own phone. “I think this demonstration is over. I have enough to request a warrant. Judge is going to be pissed getting called out of bed like this.” He moved to block the door, and Ian could hear him talking in low tones.

  Nic also spoke into her phone, “Thanks, Lady. Hey, give Drake this address and have him and his team meet us here. I think the FBI is going to have some questions for Ms. Ashmore as well about some emails sent to Ian’s assistant. Blackmail is also an ugly word.”

  Ian watched the color drain from Leigh’s face. Her eyes darted from his face to Nic’s to her uncle’s as she backed up. “This doesn’t prove anything,” she repeated. Her hand shook as she lifted it to her throat. “I’m leaving.”

  “No, yo
u are not.” The command came from the admiral. He sighed as he stood from his perch on the couch and moved past everyone to grab his niece’s purse. “As my sister’s only child, I have indulged you terribly since her death, shielding you from some things that I shouldn’t have because you are my blood.” He held the straps out to the chief, who used a decorative dishtowel to handle as little of the purse as he could. “That ends now. I think it’s time some consequences were dealt with by you, and only you. I wash my hands of it. I’ve turned a blind eye to your malicious ways and self-indulgences. I even convinced myself that you couldn’t have done what Ian claimed over that robotics debacle. Now, you’d better come clean right now, young lady, or I too will throw in some consequences that aren’t nice.”

  “Uncle Henry,” she gasped, her back glued to the refrigerator. She was trapped in the kitchen with Isobel on one side and Nic on the other. “I didn’t do what they said. Ian must have slipped that phone into my purse. It’s all a trick of some kind.” She pointed at Nic. “That woman is the problem, not me.”

  Isobel spoke up after having been weirdly quiet, especially for her. “That woman has security clearance higher than Ian has, and this all started before she became involved, you brainless twit. How dare you hire someone to steal from us and potentially hurt Ian.” Isobel stepped closer, her hands on her hips. “And when there is proof, and I am sure there will be, I will be pressing full charges on behalf of Jamison Electronics and Miriam Jones, who is still in the hospital.”

  Cody came back into the room. “I have a team on their way, and they will have a warrant. Is there anything you’d like to say, Ms. Ashmore?”

  “Go to Hell,” she snarled.

  Ian saw Nic smile before saying, “You first.”

  Chapter 17