Bodyguard for Christmas

by Carol J. Post

  She shifted position, the weight of her weapon in its holster now more pronounced against her hip. She likely wouldn’t have to draw it. If the man represented any kind of threat, he’d be crazy to act in a public place in broad daylight.

  When it came time to leave, he hadn’t moved. Liam walked with her to the Suburban without any objection. As she pulled into the courthouse parking lot, her phone buzzed with an incoming text. Colton was finished. Perfect timing. Two or three minutes later, he approached the passenger side, and she lowered the window.

  He leaned inside. “Are you okay with taking your vehicle, or shall we transfer the car seat?”

  “I can drive. Hop in.”

  He directed her through a turn onto Valley River Avenue. The art walk appeared to be in full swing, with every parking space occupied and people roaming the sidewalks. An alleyway between two buildings opened up into a parking area. If Colton hadn’t been with her, she’d have never found it.

  When they’d walked back to the front of the building, a sign overhead announced The Daily Grind.

  She looked up at Colton. “A coffee shop?”

  “And more. Salads, soups and sandwiches. Fast, but good. One of the favorite places around for people to congregate.”

  He opened the door, then walked in behind her, carrying Liam. In front of her, a wide hallway separated the Curiosity Shop Bookstore on the right from The Daily Grind on the left. They joined the end of a short line. Above and behind those working the counter, the menu was displayed on boards. She decided on a grilled panini sandwich with hot roast beef and Swiss.

  After placing their orders, they found an empty table at the front. Colton positioned Liam in a booster seat and took the chair next to him. Jasmine sat opposite them. Large windows offered a clear view of Valley River Avenue. People strolled by just outside.

  Jasmine shifted her attention to Colton. “Are you working tomorrow?”

  “Not at the office, but I did put some files in my vehicle before walking over to where you’d parked.”

  “Are you always this much of a workaholic?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve got a lot of catching up to do. I’m taking over someone else’s caseload.”

  She nodded, even though he hadn’t answered her question. She glanced around the interior space, then looked out the window again. A group of people had stopped to converse, blocking her view of anything beyond.

  After they moved on, she scanned the area. The sun had set, and the last rays of light were fading. Her gaze fell on a figure across the street, and she tensed. Shadows hid his face, but the baseball cap, jeans and bulky coat matched the clothing of the man at the playground.

  “Is everything okay?”

  Colton’s words pulled her attention back inside. For a nonmilitary, nonsecurity guy, he was pretty observant.

  She cast a glance back out the window. The guy was gone.

  “Everything’s fine.” She wouldn’t alarm him yet. Based on what she’d seen, most of Murphy turned out for this event. The man across the street might not even be the same person. If he was, he hadn’t followed her. She’d been watching too closely.

  When they finished eating, Colton looked at his watch. “If we want to make it to the tree lighting, we’ll have to walk fast.”

  “I’m up for it if you are.” She stood. “So, what happens at the tree lighting? Other than lighting the tree.”

  “There’s children’s music and dance and a kids’ jingle bell walk. Then Santa arrives on a fire truck.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  Especially for a kid. She hoped Liam would enjoy it. She would have at that age. If the small town she grew up in had had activities like that, she hadn’t known about them.

  Her mother apparently had, at least the adult parties. More than once Jasmine had gotten up in the morning to find that her mother had come in during the night and passed out on the living room floor still wearing a Christmas hat.

  When they reached the town square, a good-size crowd was already gathered. Jasmine scanned those standing around, searching for the man she’d seen at the park. Throughout each activity, she continued to look. If he was there, he was staying hidden.

  When the last activity ended, Colton shifted his son to his other hip. Liam didn’t participate in the jingle bell walk with the other kids, but his eyes were alert, taking in everything that was going on around him. Maybe next year.

  Of course, she wouldn’t be there to witness it.

  An unexpected sense of loss settled in her core. She mentally shook herself. Being part of a real family, albeit temporarily, was messing with her. She had no intention of putting down any kind of roots. She loved the transient nature of what she did. The crazy pace helped her stay ahead of the memories.

  Unfortunately, the nightmares always managed to catch up with her. No matter what she’d done or where she’d gone, she had never gotten rid of them. After years of fighting, all she’d managed to do was trade childhood terrors for adult-size ones.

  As the crowd began to spread out, Colton moved down the sidewalk. “Now for the art walk.”

  For some time, they wandered in and out of the shops. Several stores down, a variety of paintings were on display. The artist sat to the side. Jasmine stopped to watch as the woman dipped a brush into one of the globs of paint on her palette, then spread it with sure strokes onto the canvas in front of her.

  It looked like a local scene, as did the others around the room. This one was a park with mountains in the background, silhouetted against a striking sunset.

  Jasmine stepped away to look at the other paintings more closely. “I’ve always envied artistic people. I never progressed past Paint by Numbers.”

  Colton stood next to her. “Mandy painted, watercolor.”

  “Your wife.” Colton hadn’t mentioned her name previously, but Gunn had.

  “Yeah. She did it as a hobby, but she was good.”

  So Liam’s mother wasn’t just loved and needed. She was talented, too. With so many rotten people walking around, why did someone like Mandy Gale have to die? Why did any good people die young? Men and women serving their country, sent home in caskets. What kind of God made those decisions?

  When she reached the door, bluegrass music drifted to her from somewhere nearby, probably a local band entertaining the attendees. She stepped out onto the sidewalk, glancing up and down the street.

  A man stood about twenty feet away, the glow of a streetlamp spilling over him. The bill of his cap cast his face in shadow, but this time she was sure. It was the man from the park.

  She reached for her phone. “Pick up Liam. I want to take your picture.”

  When he’d done as she asked, she turned the phone sideways and touched the screen, focusing on the figure to the right. After snapping three pictures, she scrolled through them.

  Colton peered over her shoulder. “Usually it’s better to center the subjects you’re taking a picture of. You got Liam, but you cut me in half. I’m glad you’re a better bodyguard than photographer.”

  She ignored his teasing criticism and expanded the picture, moving it to the side until a grainy face occupied the center of the screen.

  “Do you recognize this man?”

  “No, why?” His eyes lit with understanding, then respect. “Who is he?”

  She looked back toward the streetlight. As expected, the man was gone.

  “I was hoping you could tell me. I took Liam to the park before meeting you. I noticed him standing some distance away, watching the activity on the playground.”

  “And you saw him when we were in the Grind.” It was a statement rather than a question.

  “I wasn’t sure. He was across the street, in shadow. But when I saw him this time, I knew it was the same guy. Are you sure you’ve never seen him?”

  He looked at the picture again.
“It’s hard to tell. His face is dark.”

  Yeah, the shadows were even more pronounced than what she’d seen. Maybe the authorities could enhance the photos enough to identify him.

  She shrank the picture until the man’s full length displayed on the screen. “Could he be one of the guys who tried to take Liam?”

  Colton studied the image. “I didn’t see their faces, but this could be the thinner guy.”

  She pocketed the phone. Maybe he was one of the kidnappers. Or maybe he was just a Murphy resident who liked to hang out at the park and attend the town’s activities.

  But that wasn’t what her gut told her. She’d gotten icky vibes all three times she’d seen him.

  When she looked up at Colton, his jaw was tight and his lips were compressed into a thin line. “Are you dead set on finishing the art walk?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  Because if there was one thing she’d learned over the years, it was to always listen to her instincts.

  FOUR

  Colton hauled a large empty box out of the middle of the living room and stood it against the wall. Jasmine sat on the rug, back against the coffee table, piles of plastic branches surrounding her.

  Walmart bags lined the couch. Liam had pulled boxes of Christmas lights out of one and set them on the floor. Now he was tackling a second bag, pulling out ornaments. At least he was engaged. Maybe he was even enjoying himself.

  Colton lowered himself to the floor and assembled the tree stand. He and Mandy had always had a live tree. This year’s would be artificial. And though the attic held boxes of decorations, he wouldn’t use them. He was committed to making Christmas meaningful for Liam, but he didn’t have to let each strand of garland, every ornament, even the fresh pine scent of a live tree, be a reminder of what he’d lost.

  Last night, he’d barely gotten through the activities in town. Cutting out early had been a relief, both to escape possible danger and to no longer have to pretend he was having a great time when he was dying inside.

  Jasmine unfolded a piece of paper and smoothed out the creases against the coffee table. “Okay, bottom row, blue.” She passed him a handful of branches.

  Colton smiled. “So, you’re a follow-the-directions kind of girl.”

  “Yeah. Saves time in the long run.”

  His thoughts exactly. “Someone needs to explain that to my brother. Step-by-step instructions feel too much like structure, something he avoids like Black Death.”

  “And you’re a by-the-book guy.”

  “Totally.” One year, a church had taken on his group home as a project and bought every child a Christmas gift. He and Cade had received model cars. Cade had finished his in half the time, but some of the components never made it into the car because he’d glued together the exterior before finishing the inside. Cade was bright, but an innate impulsiveness had gotten him into trouble more than once.

  Jasmine nodded. “Didn’t take me long to pick up on the fact you guys are polar opposites.”

  The tree took form as they progressed up the inner pole, each series of branches shorter than the last. Liam stayed busy with the contents of the bags. Across the room, Brutus lay against the wall, silently watching the activity.

  The guys from Western Carolina Fence had arrived that morning and were still hard at work. The dog hadn’t been happy to have strangers tromping around his yard. Keeping him inside was less stressful, all the way around.

  When they finished assembling the tree, Colton stepped back. “Now for the lights.”

  He retrieved a box from the haphazard stack against the couch. Liam handed him an ornament, still in its packaging, a teddy bear holding a bouquet of candy canes.

  “You like this one?”

  Liam’s mouth curved in a small smile, and Colton swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. Thank You, Lord. It was just a smile, one minuscule step on the path back to the happy child he used to be. But every bit of progress, no matter how small, felt like cause for celebration.

  And he’d do whatever it took to see the progress continue. He’d keep up the cheery front. He’d gotten good at stuffing the grief beneath layers of I’ve got it all together for the benefit of his son.

  He knelt in front of Liam and placed the ornament on the coffee table. “The lights have to go on first, then the garland. How about if you get the rest of the ornaments out and put them with this one?”

  Liam nodded and went to work tackling the task he’d been given. By the time Colton had placed the last strand of lights, boxes of ornaments were spread across the coffee table. Garland went on next, while Liam watched.

  Colton crouched at the table in front of his son. “Now the ornaments.”

  Another smile, this one a little bigger. It tugged a matching one out of Colton. They’d been back in Murphy for one week, and already he was seeing his son slowly reengage with his world. The move had been a good choice, one he’d never have considered if not for the events of last week.

  Another thought slid through the back of his mind, the fact that the move to Murphy wasn’t the only change in his son’s life. There was also Jasmine’s presence.

  He didn’t want to credit any of Liam’s progress to her being there. She was a temporary addition to their lives. If Liam became too attached, his behavior would revert right back once she left.

  He scooped up his son, a sense of protectiveness surging through him. Somehow, he’d make sure that didn’t happen. “We’ll let Miss Jasmine put the hooks on them, and you can hang them.”

  After tearing into the perforated back of the package, Jasmine removed a handful of wire hooks and laid them on the coffee table. One by one, she affixed them to the ornaments and handed them to Liam. Colton held him up to adorn the higher branches, gradually working their way around and down the tree.

  Each time Liam placed ornaments side by side, Colton let them be. He wasn’t going for perfection. Everything he was doing was for his son’s benefit. And Liam didn’t care that the decorations weren’t evenly spaced. Although he didn’t say a word, several spontaneous smiles revealed how much he was enjoying himself.

  Jasmine was smiling, too. But the spontaneity Liam displayed was lacking in her. Now that she wasn’t task-focused, her features held tightness. He wasn’t the only one feigning enthusiasm.

  He placed Liam on the floor. After directing him to one of the lower branches, he glanced up at Jasmine. “You seem to be trying as hard as I am.”

  She didn’t have to ask him what he meant, confirmation he’d pegged her right. Instead, she shrugged. “I’ve never made a big deal out of Christmas. As a child, I was forgotten. As an adult, I don’t see the purpose. That whole ‘peace on earth, goodwill to men’ message is nothing but a pipe dream.”

  “And I thought I was jaded.”

  She shrugged again but didn’t comment.

  “How about you?” She swept her hand toward the newly decorated tree. “Is this how you grew up?”

  “Till age seven and from age fifteen forward. Between seven and fifteen, how I celebrated Christmas depended on what foster or group home I was in.”

  She lifted her brows. “You were in foster care?”

  “For a while. The Gales adopted me when I was fifteen.”

  “What happened to your birth parents?”

  “My mom died.” When he was seven, the breast cancer she’d defeated three years earlier came back with a vengeance. Six months later, she was gone. “What happened to my dad is anybody’s guess. They divorced when I was young.”

  What he said was true, but there was more to the story. He and Cade had both ended up with their father. But after he’d left them alone too many times, Child Protective Services had stepped in, and they’d landed in foster care. Though the state worked with his father, he never did get his act together and eventually signed away his p
arental rights.

  She handed Liam another ornament. “That had to have been rough.”

  Colton met her gaze, and the words he was going to say stuck in his throat. He’d seen it again—that empathy, the silent message that said she’d been there. Close enough to understand, anyway.

  He shrugged. “It was rough. But Cade and I at least got adopted. My friend Tanner aged out of the system. A lot of teenagers do.”

  “They kept you and Cade together?”

  “Through foster care, they did. They tried to get us adopted together, but there weren’t many adoptive parents up to the task of handling two messed-up boys, one brooding, angry and destructive, and the other with a mischievous streak a mile wide.”

  She gave him a wry smile. “Let me guess who was who.”

  He returned her smile. “Pretty obvious, huh? Although, I think I’ve obliterated any destructive tendencies. And anger isn’t so much an issue anymore, either.” He pursed his lips. “As far as Cade’s mischievousness...that just manifests itself in other ways now.”

  “You were adopted separately? But you have the same last name.”

  “Another family started adoption proceedings for Cade.” The more serious, studious twin, Colton had always been a little envious of his outgoing, carefree brother. When Cade went to a permanent home at age fourteen, that slight envy became full-blown jealousy.

  “A week before the adoption would have been final, the adoptive parents backed out.”

  Jasmine’s eyes widened. “How awful.”

  “The family realized the charming, fun-loving personality that had drawn them in came with some characteristics that weren’t so pleasant, especially when the police got involved.”

  Cade had seemed to handle the rejection well. But Colton knew better. After that, his brother’s mischievousness and impulsiveness sometimes bordered on self-destruction.

  “I’d already gone to the Gales by that time, so that made things worse for him. But once my adoption was final, the Gales adopted Cade, too.”

  She threaded a hook into the last ornament and handed it to Liam. “They must be amazing people.” The wistfulness in her tone left Colton wondering what had been missing from her own childhood.