The General's Secretary

by Debby Giusti

  “Sure.” The clerk nodded. “He bowls on Tuesday nights.”

  Dawson withdrew a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket and offered it to the clerk. “Tell Pritchard the first game’s on me. You keep the change.”

  The man’s face brightened. “Will do.” He glanced at Lillie. “Sorry for the confusion, ma’am.”

  “And I apologize for the mix-up.”

  Dawson took her arm and hurried her toward the door.

  “What were you doing?” he asked, his easy demeanor a thing of the past as soon as they stepped outside.

  “I told you. I got confused.”

  “You were checking lockers in the men’s room, Lillie. That wasn’t smart. When I left this morning, I said I’d be back after work. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

  “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

  Dawson’s eyes focused on a guy slumped behind the wheel of a Chevrolet Suburban parked across the street. She followed his gaze and felt a chill sweep over her.

  “A bodyguard is exactly what you need.” Dawson continued to stare at the Suburban as the driver started his engine and drove out of sight.

  “Was that the same car as this morning?” Lillie asked.

  “The only thing I saw was an army sticker on the back bumper.”

  She shivered. “Just like the car that ran me off the road.”

  “Which is why you shouldn’t be here.”

  “I need to find out what the key unlocks.”

  “That’s my job, Lillie. Your job is to stay safe.”

  She shook her head. “I’m going to keep searching.”

  “You’re doing no such thing.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “You can’t tell me what to do. Besides, I don’t appreciate being followed.”

  “I drove into town and saw your car. Easy enough to know you were inside. The bowling alley is on the road from post.”

  “But you were looking for me.”

  He shrugged. “I wanted to ensure you didn’t get into trouble.”

  Which had happened when the man at the bowling alley grabbed her arm.

  Dawson raised his brow and stared down at her, making her skin tingle. “The way I see it, Lillie, you need to do two things. Number one: go home. Number two: don’t get involved.”

  “Those both entail getting me out of the picture, and that’s not happening. There’s an option you haven’t mentioned.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We work together.” She shrugged. “If not, we’ll say goodbye here.”

  “You’re being headstrong and foolish.”

  She straightened her spine and leveled him with a confrontational glare. “People have said many things about me, but I won’t give up or give in. A man died this morning before he could tell me something about my mother. I have to find out what he wanted me to know.”

  “You’re putting your life in danger.”

  She nodded. “If so, then I do need a bodyguard.” Before she could stop herself, she quirked her brow. “You seem to be volunteering for the job.”

  Dawson was as determined as she was and had left her no choice but to suggest they team up. Hopefully, she wouldn’t regret making the offer.

  Then looking into Dawson’s blue eyes, which sparkled with an audacity that matched her own eyes, she realized the CID agent kept showing up when she was most in need. Surely it was only a coincidence. She shouldn’t worry, but Dawson’s father was an ex-con. Maybe the handsome CID agent had secrets of his own. Secrets involving her mother’s death and what had happened long ago or secrets about what had caused a man to be murdered on her front porch this morning.

  Either way, Dawson was the last person she should be working with yet, at the present moment, she had nowhere else to turn. She needed answers that perhaps only he could provide.

  SIX

  Dawson kept Lillie’s Honda in sight as he followed her across town to a small gym that smelled like floor mats and sweat. A few lockers stood against the wall in the common area. Lillie tried the key but with no success, and before anyone noticed them milling about, Dawson escorted her back to her car.

  “The main workout center is on the other side of town.” He opened her car door. “Follow me. If there’s a problem, flash your lights.”

  The scent of her perfume wafted past him and made him want to step closer and breathe more deeply. Her dark lashes fluttered over her cheeks, and her lips parted ever so slightly as if she wanted to say something. Maybe that she appreciated his help.

  All too quickly, the moment passed. She slid behind the wheel and nodded for him to close the door.

  Dawson would let her pretend to be Miss Independent, but he’d seen behind her strong facade this morning when she sat huddled on the couch in her living room.

  Traffic in town was light, and Lillie followed close behind him as they headed to the newer facility. Parking next to the gym, he noticed the Fort Rickman stickers on a number of the cars in the lot.

  “Must be a popular place,” Dawson said as Lillie joined him on the sidewalk.

  “You’re not a member?”

  He smiled. “I use the gym on post.”

  When they stepped inside, Dawson was impressed by the rows of treadmills and elliptical machines, the rack of weights and other bodybuilding equipment available to the members. Maybe the state-of-the-art facility was worth the hefty membership and monthly fees.

  The locker rooms were on opposite ends of the central workout area. A number of men looked up as Lillie headed toward the ladies’ room. Dawson kept watch to ensure no one bothered her.

  He didn’t have long to wait and was relieved when she reappeared. Lillie shook her head and dropped the key into his hand. “Only a few of the lockers were in use. No luck with the key.”

  Dawson found the same thing in the men’s changing area. The entire trip seemed a waste of time until they headed for the parking lot and spied Captain Mark Banks digging in the backseat of his BMW. Standing next to the general’s aide was a big, burly guy with a shaved head and massive biceps.

  Mark pulled out a workout bag and slammed the door before he noticed Dawson and Lillie. He swaggered toward them, smiling. “You two don’t look like you’re dressed for working out.”

  “Just wanted to check out the equipment.” Dawson flicked his gaze over the expensive Beemer. “Seems like a top-of-the-line facility.”

  “Tom Reynolds runs the place.” Mark pointed his thumb to his beefy friend, probably early forties, and introduced Dawson and Lillie. “Tom keeps the equipment running like clockwork. Ten times better than what we have on post.”

  Dawson extended his hand. The beef had a killer grip.

  “Good to meet you.” Tom flicked his gaze to Lillie. “Ma’am.”

  “Do you also manage the smaller gym on the other side of town?” she asked.

  Tom shook his head. “That’s a private operation. Karl Nelson brought in this franchise. I’ve been the manager for the last five years.”

  “Invite Tom to post to advise our gym director on how to upgrade,” Dawson told the aide.

  Mark nodded. “Remind me on Monday, Lillie. I’ll run it by General Cameron.”

  The look on his face confirmed what Dawson already knew. The general’s aide was interested in Lillie. She probably hadn’t noticed.

  Tom Reynolds dug in his pocket and pulled out two small cards. “Here’re a couple free passes good for a week of workouts. See if you like what we’ve got to offer.”

  “Will do. Thanks.”

  “You two stay safe.” Mark smiled at Lillie as both men headed toward the front entrance.

  Dawson pointed her toward their cars. “Something about that guy bothers me.”

  She shrugged off his comment. “Mark’s n
ice enough, although he sometimes thinks he’s the man in charge instead of General Cameron.”

  Maybe Dawson didn’t have to worry about Lillie, after all. As pretty as she was, working in the same office with the general’s secretary could take a man off track, which is what Dawson needed to ensure didn’t happen to him.

  “Where to next?” he asked.

  “There’s a bus station downtown.”

  “You lead the way this time.”

  They parked on a side street in the older section of Freemont. A number of buildings sat abandoned, and the few businesses still in operation looked as if they were hanging on by a thread.

  The sun sat low in the sky, casting long shadows over the abandoned storefronts and sagging facades badly in need of repair. His eyes searched the area for anything that spelled danger.

  “Stay by my side.” His right hand flexed closer to his hip, aware of the weight of his weapon. He didn’t want anything to happen, but he was prepared in case something did occur. “Maybe you should have remained in the car.”

  “You’ve been watching too much television, Dawson. This is Freemont, Georgia.” Then, as if realizing her error, she raised her hand to her throat. “I almost said nothing happens in this small town.”

  He touched her elbow. “You don’t have to do this if it’s too difficult.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  The bus station had a musty smell, as if rising water from the nearby river had at some point flooded the aged structure. Fluorescent lights cast the terminal in an artificial glow that made Lillie’s face look paler than usual. Wide-eyed, she glanced at the row of lockers on the back wall.

  A clerk, wearing a cardigan sweater and bow tie, stood behind the counter. Two men were slumped in chairs, chins on their chests. Threadbare jackets and well-worn shoes screamed “down on their luck.” A woman with platinum hair and too-bright lipstick sat with her arm around a little boy, not more than eight or nine, who fiddled with a small electronic device he held in his hands. She gazed at Lillie and Dawson with tired eyes and then checked her watch. A fourth patron sat on a far bench, his face obscured by the newspaper he was reading.

  The clerk raised his brow, but before he said anything, a bus braked to a stop at the side of the building. The driver stepped through the double glass doors. “Got any passengers for me, Harry?”

  The clerk nodded in his direction before announcing, “The six p.m. bus to Atlanta is now ready to board.”

  Taking up his post at the door, he prepared to collect the tickets as the four adults and one child slowly gathered their belongings and lumbered forward.

  Dawson motioned Lillie toward the lockers where, once again, she tried the key. Glancing over his shoulder, Dawson watched the blonde woman hug the little boy, who was apparently traveling on his own. The clerk waited as she gave the boy final instructions to sit behind the driver and to call Mama when he arrived at his destination.

  Turning back, Dawson pointed to a locker on the bottom row. “Try that one.”

  Lillie inserted the key. The lock clicked open. She glanced up at Dawson and smiled.

  Both of them bent down and stared into the compartment, big enough for a suitcase. Dawson’s elation plummeted, seeing the empty space.

  “Only bus patrons are allowed to use the lockers.”

  Dawson bristled at the sound of the clerk’s voice. He didn’t want to show his CID identification and raise the clerk’s suspicions or have him call the local authorities. Some of the good old boys on the force didn’t cotton to sharing information with the military. Pritchard had seemed guarded this morning, and although Dawson planned to notify the police if they found anything, he wanted the CID to have the first look at evidence they uncovered.

  The man moved closer.

  Lillie closed the locker and stood. She handed the key to the clerk. “My uncle bused in from Atlanta last week. He has a memory problem. We’re worried it might be the start of Alzheimer’s. He was sure he had left something in the locker, but it was empty.”

  The clerk’s frown faded. “I understand completely. We’re just glad your uncle used our bus service. Anything I can do for you, just let me know.”

  “You’ve been most helpful.” Lillie placed her hand on Dawson’s arm and turned her sweet face toward him. “Well, dear, we need to get home for dinner.”

  Dawson steered Lillie toward the door. The sun had set, and darkness covered the area by the time they stepped into the chilly night air. Neither of them spoke until they neared their cars.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t find anything,” he said, patting her soft hand.

  She smiled before she opened her fist. Even in the half-light from the lone streetlight, he could see the small flash drive.

  “Good job,” he wanted to say, but when he looked up he saw an SUV with tinted windows parked in an abandoned lot across the street.

  “Get in your car, Lillie. Lock your doors and drive back to post headquarters. I’ll question the guy in the car and keep him here. As soon as I’m satisfied he’s not a threat, I’ll follow you to post.”

  She started to hesitate.

  “Now.”

  Dawson kept his eyes trained on the Suburban as he crossed the street, relieved when Lillie’s headlights disappeared from sight. Before he could get close enough to the parked vehicle, the engine purred to life, tires screeched and the SUV raced away in the opposite direction from post.

  Dawson had made a mistake thinking he could detain the driver, but at least the SUV was headed away from Lillie. Once again, he saw the military decal on the rear bumper. Only this time he saw the license plate as well.

  Raising his cell, he hit speed dial for CID headquarters. Corporal Otis answered. Dawson relayed the number. “Find out who owns the vehicle.”

  “Roger that, sir.”

  “And get back to me ASAP.”

  * * *

  Darkness settled in around Lillie’s car as she headed along the winding road that led to Fort Rickman. Overhead, tree limbs swayed in the night. The temperature had dropped. She turned up the heater and adjusted the vent, but even with the warm air blowing over her, she still felt cold.

  Glancing at the rearview mirror, she saw approaching headlights. Her heart pounded, and her throat went dry, remembering the light-colored Suburban. The same man who had come after her earlier today could be barreling down on her once again.

  She pushed on the accelerator, determined to stay well ahead of the vehicle. It had big, boxy headlights elevated well off the ground that marked it as an SUV.

  Lillie glanced at her cell phone in the passenger seat, wondering whether to call Dawson and tell him she needed help.

  Another, more frightening, thought circled through her mind. Dawson kept talking about Lillie being in danger. What if the man who had killed Granger had come after his son?

  A queasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She pulled her left hand from the wheel and rubbed it over her abdomen, hoping to quell the upset.

  Her heart lurched again when she saw the lights nearing even as she increased her speed.

  She pressed down on the accelerator, willing her car to go faster. At any moment, she expected to feel the huge sports vehicle crash into her rear fender and send her swerving off the road.

  Her hands gripped the wheel.

  A cry escaped her lips.

  Her phone rang, but she ignored the sound and focused totally on the road.

  An intersection loomed ahead. She had no choice but to keep moving forward.

  “Please, God.” She prayed no one would be approaching from the other direction.

  The trill of her phone continued to fill the car. The reflection from the headlights blinded her. Her heart exploded in her chest.

  She charged through the intersection, expecti
ng to be hit either from the rear or by some unknown driver approaching on the side road.

  In the blink of an eye, the SUV was gone.

  A rush of nausea swept over her. Her head pounded with delayed tension, and tears of relief and confusion clouded her vision. She blinked them back, trying to determine what had happened.

  Before she could put the pieces together, she saw another set of headlights not far behind her. Once again her cell rang.

  She pushed the phone to her ear.

  “Lillie?” Dawson’s voice. “I’m right behind you. You’re safe. Ease up on the gas and pull to the side of the road.”

  “But—”

  “You’re okay, Lillie. The Suburban turned at the intersection.”

  Still unsure of what had happened, Lillie decelerated and angled off the road. She kept the engine running and her foot poised on the accelerator until she saw Dawson step from his car.

  “I lost the guy in town,” he said as she stumbled onto the pavement. “He was headed north, away from post. Evidently he circled around and caught up to you.”

  Dawson stood in the glare of the headlights, big and protecting. Once again, he had saved her.

  She felt dizzy with the rush of emotions. Suddenly she didn’t know whether to cry or laugh so she did both, causing Dawson’s eyes to widen and his arms to reach for her.

  Lillie’s knees weakened, and for one glorious moment, she fell into his outstretched arms. Her heart beat against his and the fear left her, replaced with another feeling that caused her to be equally as emotional. Tears overflowed her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks, tears of gratitude that Dawson had arrived in time.

  She’d been alone for so long and had never thought she needed or wanted anyone else in her life. At this moment, she realized her desire to go through life alone might have been a mistake.

  SEVEN

  Dawson didn’t want Lillie to leave his arms, but they were on a lonely stretch of back road and exposed both to the dropping temperature and to anyone who might be watching and waiting in the night.

  “Let’s get back to Fort Rickman.” He looked into her tearstained face. “You’ll be safe on post.”