“There’s plenty wrong with me. Just like there’s plenty wrong with you. But that’s what relationships are all about, right? Learning the good and bad about someone and accepting both.”
“I don’t know. I’ve been in too many messed-up relationships to know what a good one is.”
“That doesn’t mean this one has to be messed up.”
“Ryder, every dream I’ve ever had has fallen apart, and I’ve gotten over it, but I don’t think I could ever get over you if I started building dreams and…” Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged.
“Build all the dreams you want around me, Shelby Ann. They won’t fall apart,” he responded.
“How can you know that? How can I?”
“We can’t if we don’t try.” He kneaded the tension in her shoulders, silken hair sliding over his knuckles as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to her nape.
She shivered and turned to face him, her eyes wide and wary as she met his gaze. “I think we’d better go, Ryder. If Catherine has the answers to everything that’s been going on, we can’t afford to miss out on an opportunity to speak with her.”
She was right.
They’d better go, because they couldn’t afford to miss the appointment, and because if he looked into Shelby’s eyes for one more second, he might do something he wouldn’t regret, but that she might.
“What time do you have to deliver the cake? The prison is an hour drive, and I want to make sure we get back in time.”
“I need to be at the bakery by three. I’ve got to put the cake together, decorate it. I have a hundred things I need to do before I deliver it. Maybe—”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“You were going to ask if I could drop you off at the bakery before I went to the prison.”
“I was also going to suggest that Darius come with me. That way, I’ll be safe and productive.”
“Sorry. Darius has another assignment. If he didn’t, he’d be riding shotgun.” He led her into the living room, grabbed a couple of protein shakes from the fridge and tossed one her way.
“Drink,” he said, opening the second can and chugging the contents.
“I’d rather not.”
“I’d rather not have you fainting from hunger.”
She snorted but popped the lid of the can and sipped it.
“You ready to go, Darius?”
“Ready.” Darius pulled a jacket over his gun holster and opened the door.
“I’ll take the lead. First sign of trouble, and you take Shelby to safety.”
“Will do.”
“Maybe I should just stay here,” Shelby said as they started down the stairs, her voice trembling slightly.
“Sorry. All my people are tied up with other assignments, and I’m not leaving you here alone.” He led the way to the lobby, moving slowly, listening intently. Just because no one suspicious had showed on the monitor didn’t mean they were clear. Anyone could be a threat. A friend. A neighbor. It was Ryder’s job to prevent that threat from reaching Shelby.
He stepped into the lobby, scanned the area and moved to the front door.
“Stay with her, Darius. I’ll get the Hummer.”
He didn’t wait for Darius to respond. He didn’t need to. He only hired people he could count on to follow orders, people he could trust with his life, and he could trust Darius. Comrade in arms. Fellow SEAL. He’d give his life for a client if necessary. Ryder didn’t want it to be necessary, but he knew it was true.
He surveyed the area outside the apartment, noting each person, each face, each piece of clothing. Early-morning sunlight fell across the sidewalk and gleamed on the windows of passing cars. If danger lurked nearby, Ryder didn’t feel it. No hum of awareness. No hair standing on end. He got in the Hummer, driving up onto the sidewalk in front of the apartment, ignoring the shouted protests of a few disgruntled pedestrians as he opened the lobby door.
“Let’s move fast.” He took Shelby’s arm, gesturing for Darius to fall into step beside them. Flanked on either side, Shelby seemed small, fragile and in desperate need of protection.
One bullet. That’s all it would take, and she’d be lying on the pavement, her life spilling out.
He tightened his grip on her arm, adrenaline pulsing through his blood.
“Don’t worry, Ryder. Everything is going to be fine,” she whispered as she climbed into the Hummer, her words dancing on the cool morning air as he closed her inside.
He hoped she was right, because right at that moment they had only one lead to follow. If it didn’t bring them to Shelby’s attacker, they’d be at a standstill while the killer moved forward with his plans.
Catherine Miller had to be the key.
She’d been the subject of Maureen’s newest project. There had to be a connection between that and Maureen’s death. Ryder just had to figure out what it was.
He climbed into the Hummer, offered a quick wave in Darius’s direction and pulled away.
He needed answers, and he needed them quickly, because he had a feeling the danger that was hunting Shelby was closing in. It might not have been waiting outside the apartment building, but it was waiting. For the right time, the right place to strike.
SIXTEEN
Catherine Miller didn’t look like a cold-blooded killer.
She didn’t look like the dark angel the press had portrayed her as, either.
What she looked like, Shelby thought, was a weary, wary and very tough young woman. Red hair cropped short, her face gaunt, she had a fragile build and hard blue eyes, her orange jumpsuit garish against her pale skin.
A guard led her to a chair and stood a few feet away as she settled into it.
“Thanks for seeing us today, Catherine. I’m Ryder Malone. This is Shelby Simons,” Ryder began, his dark eyes completely focused on the convicted killer.
“If you’re from the press, I don’t do interviews,” she responded, her voice softer than her eyes.
“But you allowed Maureen Lewis to interview you,” Ryder said, and Catherine frowned, leaning back in the chair, blue eyes smudged with fatigue.
“I heard Maureen died. Are you family?”
“Friends,” Shelby said.
“I’m sorry for your loss. Maureen was a nice lady.”
“She was writing your story when she died,” Ryder said, and Catherine shrugged, her shoulders narrow and way too thin. A scar snaked around her left wrist, purplish against her pale skin.
“It would be callous for me to say I wish she’d finished it before she’d died, so I won’t.”
“You just did,” Ryder pointed out, and Catherine offered a brief smile.
“Okay. You’re right. I did. I liked Maureen, but I was also excited about what she was doing. It’s been four years since anyone cared to listen to my side of things. She listened, and…”
“What?” Shelby asked, imagining Maureen sitting exactly where she was, looking at the same woman, seeing someone worth trying to save.
“She believed me. Which is more than I can say for just about everyone else I know.” There was a bitter edge to her voice, and Shelby wondered if she were really as innocent as she claimed or if she were just a good actress.
“What did you tell her that convinced her?” Ryder asked, and Catherine stiffened, something dark passing behind her eyes.
“You think that whatever I said got her killed, don’t you?”
“Did it?”
“I don’t know. I hope not, but if it did… I warned her to be careful. I told her that he…”
“What?” Ryder leaned toward her, and she shook her head.
“Look, I’m not sure why you’re
here, but I suggest that you go back to wherever you came from and leave Maureen to rest in peace.”
“Maureen was murdered, Catherine.”
“That’s exactly why you need to let her rest in peace.” Catherine smoothed her spiky hair, her hand shaking slightly, the hardness in her eyes only partially hiding her fear.
“If you didn’t kill the patients at Good Sama—”
“I didn’t.”
“Then who did?”
“Like I said, you need to let Maureen rest in peace.” She stood, but Ryder held up a hand.
“Give us another minute, okay?”
“Why should I? It’s not like you’re here to help me. You’re here to help a dead woman, and she’s way past that.” She sat again.
“We’re here because whoever murdered Maureen has been coming after Shelby. It’s imperative that we find out who he is and what his motives are. You’re the key to that.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.” Catherine’s gaze shifted from Ryder to Shelby, and Shelby had the feeling she really was sorry, but that there was more she knew. More she might have said.
“Can’t or won’t?” Ryder asked.
“Does it matter? It amounts to the same thing.” She glanced back at the guard, then leaned forward, her eyes blazing with blue fire. “Be careful, okay? You seem like nice people, and I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
“Why would we?”
“For the same reason Maureen was. She asked too many questions of the wrong person and found out something she shouldn’t have. Maybe she just made him nervous. Whatever the case, she’s victim number twelve, and we have no reason to think he’ll stop there. Don’t give him reason to strike again.”
“He’s already tried, Catherine. Give us his name so we can stop him before he does again.”
“I’ve already said too much.”
“You haven’t said anything.” Ryder’s irritation seeped through his words, and Shelby put a hand on his arm, his tension radiating through her palm. He covered her hand, linking their fingers.
She didn’t pull away.
Didn’t want to pull away.
Catherine’s gazed dropped to their hands, and she offered a smile tinged with sadness. “Like I said, it’s better to let Maureen rest in peace. Let the police find her killer. It’s the safest thing for everyone.”
Something about the way she said everyone made Shelby’s pulse jump. Was there someone Catherine cared about? Someone she was worried about protecting? If so, that would explain her reluctance to share the information she’d given to Maureen. “Is there someone you want to send a message to, Catherine? We’d be happy to help you if we can.”
Catherine hesitated, glancing at the guard again. “My grandmother. She can’t drive, and I haven’t seen her since I was sentenced. She’s out on our old homestead outside of Spokane, still trying to work the land. She says she’s doing okay, but I worry about her. I’m all the family she has, and my friends disappeared after I was convicted. Would you mind checking up on her?”
“What’s her name?” Ryder said, and relief washed away the tension in Catherine’s face. She looked even younger than when she’d walked in. Twenty-six or seven. Not old enough to have worked as a registered nurse, been on trial for murder, been in jail for four years.
“Eileen Miller. Maureen went to see her once and said she was doing okay. That was our deal. I’d let Maureen write my book, and she’d take care of Eileen. It’s a shame things don’t always work out the way they should,” Catherine said as she stood.
“What’s her address?”
Catherine rattled it off, ignoring the guard, who motioned that their time was up. “When you see her, tell her I love her, okay?”
“I will,” Shelby said, swallowing a lump in her throat as Catherine shuffled away with the guard.
“She’s not what I expected,” Ryder said, taking Shelby’s arm and leading her away.
“What did you expect?”
“All the articles I read about the murders made her seem sweet and fragile. Florence Nightingale gone wrong.”
“She is fragile.”
“But she’s not sweet or angelic.”
“Maybe jail changed her.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think so. That tough edge she has came from a lifetime of hardship. Not four years of it. She seemed edgy, too. Like she wanted to say more, but was afraid. Maybe for her grandmother. Maybe for herself.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“Then I guess there’s only one thing to do,” he said as a guard led them back through the prison.
“What?”
“We go visit the grandmother and see what she has to say. Maybe Eileen will be more willing to talk than Catherine is, and maybe she knows what her granddaughter is hiding.”
“I still need to get that wedding cake delivered,” she reminded him, and he nodded.
“It’s early. We should have plenty of time to stop by Eileen’s place before you need to be back at the bakery.”
They walked outside, bright sunlight warming the cool spring air, its heat making Shelby feel even more sluggish and tired than she already did. She had barely slept, barely eaten. Her body hurt, her head ached, and her heart… .
It was going to be hurt, too.
She knew it was.
No matter what Ryder said, no matter what his intentions, eventually she’d disappoint him or he’d disappoint her. One of them would walk away and find someone else, and all the silly dreams that she kept shoving down and hiding in the deepest part of her heart would shatter.
Just like she’d told him they would.
Build as many dreams as you want around me, he’d said, and she’d been so tempted to let herself do it.
She knew better, though.
Two strikes, and she was out.
Even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to be.
Ryder helped her into the Hummer, and she wondered what it would be like to be more than a client he needed to protect, more than someone he needed to keep safe. Wondered what it would be like to just let go, let herself try one more time.
“You’re deep in thought, Shelby Ann,” he said as he started the Hummer’s engine.
“I’m just hoping that Eileen will be able to give us some helpful information, because so far, we’ve come up empty today.”
“I wouldn’t say we’ve come up empty. We know that Catherine is afraid of someone and for someone. We know that she thinks the same person who murdered eleven people at Good Samaritan Convalescent Center also murdered Maureen. Assuming that she’s telling the truth about her innocence—”
“I think she is.”
“If she is, coming here has proven what was only a theory before. Maureen was killed because of the research she was doing. She was killed because she got too close to a murderer who’s been hiding his crimes for years.”
“I agree, but we can’t prove it. Not without knowing what Maureen found. Too bad all the research was destroyed in the explosion.”
“Too bad for us, but not for the person who murdered Maureen.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” She’d just assumed that the arsonist wanted to hide his crime and make Maureen’s death look like an accident, but the explosion and fire had taken all of Maureen’s research with her. Everything on her computer. Everything on her cell phone.
Her entire life gone in the ring of a doorbell.
Shelby shivered, rubbing her arms to try to chase away the chill. Maureen had been so vibrantly alive, so filled with ideas and enthusiasm. Sure, she’d been demanding, but she’d also been funny and fun, caring and compassionate. She’d believed in what she did, offered nothing but full disclosure and absolut
e truth in her books. Evidence and facts had been everything to her, but the people behind the stories were what drove her.
She’d deserved a happier ending than what she’d gotten, and Shelby swallowed back a lump in her throat at the thought.
“Are you thinking about Maureen?” Ryder asked, and she nodded.
“How did you know?”
“Your eyes are sad.”
“You’re supposed to be watching the road, not me.”
“I’m watching the road and you. You’re a distraction, Shelby Ann. One I wasn’t counting on when I came to Spokane.”
“Where were you before?” she asked, even though she knew she shouldn’t. Asking questions about his personal life was a sure way to get to know him better, and getting to know Ryder better would probably make her like him even more than she already did. In her estimation, that would be a whole lot worse than falling for him. If she fell, she could right herself. If she liked him more and more, she couldn’t turn away.
“New York City. That’s where I keep the main office of my business.”
“You have more than one office?”
“This is my fourth. I already had offices in New York, Florida and Texas. A friend of mine suggested I open one here, and it seemed like a good idea. Mid-Atlantic, southeast and southwest. Now, the northwest. I came here four months ago, so I could spend a year setting things up.”
“And create a security monopoly?” she responded, his words leaving her hollow.
He’d been in town four months.
Was going home in eight.
Build all the dreams you want around me.
But that would be difficult to do if he wasn’t around.
“Not quite.”
“The sheriff said your business is one of the best in the country.”
“That’s a matter of opinion, and I’ve never been overly concerned about people’s opinions.”
“Then what are you concerned with?”
“Keeping you safe.”
“Aside from that.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were curious about me.” He shot a glance in her direction, his eyes filled with amusement.
Undercover Bodyguard Page 14
