Blind Trust

Home > Other > Blind Trust > Page 8
Blind Trust Page 8

by Debra Parmley


  The fifth man dropped, a bullet to the back of his head, and he fell to the ground.

  Cecelia was covered in a spray of blood, bone, and brains.

  Brian went to her, one arm still holding his gun away from her as he wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her close.

  “Brian, you came for me!” Cecelia cried out.

  “I told you I would,” he said, quietly, hoping to calm her. “You’re safe now. We’re getting you out of here.”

  “I was so scared,” she said. “I was afraid the GPS wouldn’t work from so far away, and that you’d never find me again.”

  “Not a chance,” he said. “I would’ve found a way to locate you, no matter where you were, and I will always come for you.” He slung the gun over his shoulder.

  She was crying and hanging onto him now.

  He bent and lifted her up into his arms to carry her outside to Arturo’s car. “I’ve got you now, babe,” he said. “You’re safe, and we’re going home. Back to the United States of America, and I’m not leaving your side until you’re safe back at the ranch. Sound okay to you?”

  “More than okay. I want to go home,” she said. “With you. Take me home, Brian.”

  “Good, I was hoping you’d say that. I was afraid I would lose you,” he said, finally admitting it out loud, now that they were outside. “I was afraid I would never get to kiss you again.” He set her down on the ground so she could stand again.

  “I was afraid you’d never find me,” she said. “I thought, if I died down here, at least you had kissed me one night, on the beach, beneath the stars. I would always know that kiss, what it felt like kissing you. I would always remember our first and only kiss.”

  “Not the only one,” he said as he took out a handkerchief and wiped her face, clearing away the blood and sweat. “We can fix that right now.” Placing both of his palms on her cheeks, he brought her face close to him then pressed his lips against hers in a fierce kiss.

  She responded by kissing him back with just as much fervor.

  Their kiss deepened as their tongues touched, teased, and danced. They kissed as if they couldn’t get enough of each other. Passion, desire, longing, relief and happiness were all in the mix of this kiss, and it was another they would remember for a lifetime.

  Across the border, back in the U.S., Brian and Cecelia were sharing a room at the fanciest hotel in San Diego.

  He’d ordered champagne and strawberries, and they’d made plans to not leave the room until the next day at eleven, when it was time to check out.

  Life was short, and they’d both agreed that they wanted to make the most of it, here, tonight. Making love for the first time, together as a couple.

  He wasn’t letting Cecelia out of his sight for a long while. Nearly losing her had scared him and made him realize how much he cared for her.

  They might even be picking out a ring soon, if things went as he hoped they would go.

  The events in Mexico had changed them both.

  Tonight, would be the beginning of a new future for them, and he couldn’t wait.

  THE END

  Montana Marine

  Debra Parmley

  Chapter 1

  Gunnery Sergeant Jack “Gunny” Barr had been on edge all day, but couldn’t put his finger on the cause. It had started in the morning when he’d walked outside and looked up at the sky as the sun rose. A peculiar red filled the sky, giving him a slight feeling of foreboding. Though not a single thing had fallen into place to confirm the feeling until now.

  The Marine Second Force Recon team was in the area after completing another mission when a broadcast for help came over the clear channel of the radio, calling all United States units in the area. SEAL team ten was in trouble. The pilot circled the helicopter around and headed back to give them aid. Then it all went to hell.

  Axel Svenson aka “Swede” was the one person in the hospital Gunny spent the most time talking to. Marine Recon guys didn’t usually mix with other Navy personnel, but Swede was a SEAL and they’d met during a mission that had gone bad. There was no one else in the hospital either of them could talk to about what had gone down that day. Partly because of the security clearance, and partly because only someone who’d been there would really understand. Swede had lost a team member and had a traumatic brain injury. Gunny was concerned about Swede because TBI’s could be serious. By the time Gunny had been released to go home, they’d developed a friendship that began with bonding over the incident.

  Gunny was now home and retired from the Marines all of three months, which was making him stir crazy. He’d been making repairs to the small house he owned after he’d finished making the rounds and visiting with all the family and friends that had wanted to see him after he got out. Now that he was back, it was time to work on the house. There was still a lot to be done. Amazing how that list added up after being away from the house for so many years on one deployment after another.

  The phone rang, and when Gunny picked it up, he said, “Hello.”

  Swede was on the line.

  “Hey Gunny, how you doing?”

  “I’m doing great. What’s up, shipmate? How’ve you been?”

  “I’m out, Gunny. Got the doc’s all clear.”

  “That’s good news. Glad to hear it.”

  “I’m in Montana.”

  “Nice. Fishing?”

  “No. Working. Got a proposition for you.”

  “All right. Let’s hear it.”

  “A buddy of mine started a bodyguard service out here in Montana. The Brotherhood Protectors. We could use another good man. I thought of you. And the job pays well.”

  “What’s the job? Who are you protecting?”

  “Angelica Glory.”

  “No shit?” Gunny whistled.

  “Monroe Witham, her manager, just hired us. She’s got a stalker, Gunny.”

  “I’m on board. When and where? Give me the details. ”

  “Monroe says he’ll fly her out of L.A., quick. Said they’d be here in three days.”

  Gunny laughed. “Civilians don’t know the meaning of quick.”

  Swede laughed.

  They’d both been on many missions where they’d been roused from sleep and had to grab gear and be wheels up within minutes.

  “No, they don’t.”

  “You just tell me when and where you need me and I’m there.”

  Swede gave him the rest of the details, and then hung up. Gunny glanced around the room he’d been working on and then stood, leaving his tools where they lay. There was nothing here that couldn’t wait until he got back. He’d pack and then head out for an early dinner and a beer.

  At the bar, he texted his brother.

  Got a new job. Headed to Montana.

  The next night, unable to sleep, Gunny fired up his computer and started to search. His first assignment was for one of the sexiest women in Hollywood. Angelica Glory. She’d stand out anywhere she went, and it appeared she loved to stand out.

  A quick internet search told him Angelica loved to party in the clubs. Tabloid speculation about who her latest lover was seemed to change month to month. None of this was fact. He had her dossier in front of him, which listed everyone personally connected to her. It was quite detailed, but anything further he found would be added to it. The dossier listed everyone close to her. Family, close friends, and boyfriends. The names on the list were only a fraction of the names listed by the tabloids.

  Angelica’s pattern appeared to be relationships with well-known actors, which lasted anywhere from six months to two years. None of her relationships had hit the three-year mark.

  A major storm had kept him grounded in Houston, Texas, and now Miss Glory and her assistant would be arriving in Montana the night before he did. But the rest of the team would be in place. He’d be working with Swede, who would also be their computer guru. Hank ‘Montana’ Patterson was the third man. Montana, who ran the Brotherhood Protectors, was no stranger to Gunny, as Montana a
nd Swede had been on the same SEAL team that fateful day.

  The three-man team would work sixteen hours on, eight off in staggered shifts, so there would always be two men on duty at any time. Gunny would be man on point, getting to know Angelica and Lucy and gathering intel to help the team do their jobs. Swede would handle the technical aspects of the job. Montana had other bodyguards working for him and other clients, so he’d have the satellite phone. Cell phone service was poor to non-existent at the house. They’d be using two-way radios, and all their equipment was encrypted to prevent the stalker from listening in.

  Swede had dug up plenty of intel for the dossier, but Gunny liked to look at things himself and get a feel for the situation. He much preferred seeing imagery to words on paper.

  There were plenty of images of Angelica Glory. Plenty of cleavage to look at, and she liked showing it off. Great body. Carried herself with class in some images and with a haughty air in others. She loved the camera. Pictures could tell you so much.

  Lucy Woods, the assistant, now she was intriguing. Pretty woman with long, silky black hair, pale skin, and pretty blue eyes. He noted one mannerism she had of tilting her head to the right and looking up at the camera. Did she know she did that? She didn’t like the camera much. He wondered if the movement developed from being a shy woman with a wish to hide.

  He’d meet them soon enough. Closing the computer down, he went to bed and forced himself to go to sleep.

  His brother called the next day as Jack was at the airport. Jack was glad his brother had security clearance, because then he could be truthful when talking about his new job. He and his twin had few secrets and shared an uncanny way of sensing when the other had something going on. Hank Patterson had not only okayed it, he’d asked if Jack’s brother might be interested in a job.

  “Hey, Ted.”

  “Jack, I got your message the other day. Been flying. What’s up? You got a new job?”

  “Yeah. Bodyguard.”

  “No shit. That’s great. Thought you were retired, though.”

  “I’m too young to retire. Not used to all this sitting around. Nothing to do but fix this house.”

  “I hear ya. Can’t imagine not flying. We’re both too young to retire. So who are ya working for?”

  “Brotherhood Protectors. It’s a bodyguard service made up of SEALs and former combat vets started by Hank Patterson. His family has a ranch in Eagle Rock, Montana.”

  “Where’s Eagle Rock? Never heard of it.”

  “I had to look it up too. It’s in the foothills of the Crazy Mountains in the southwest corner of Montana. Hills and mountains to the west, plains to the east. Bear Creek Ranch is Patterson’s ranch.”

  “Sounds interesting. Crazy Mountains, huh. Skiing?”

  “Yeah, they’ve got skiing. Big Sky Resort. Biggest ski resort in Montana, and it’s only forty miles south. There’s also the Bridger Bowl Ski area near the Bridger Mountains.”

  “I’ll come out and see ya this winter then. We’ll hit the slopes.”

  “Sounds good. Yellowstone National Park isn’t far if you come out sooner. Temps are in the nineties right now. About the same as here.”

  “Montana is all cowboys and cattle ranches. Why would anyone need a bodyguard out there?”

  “The rich and famous come out and buy cattle ranches, horse ranches. They want privacy and seclusion. This first assignment is for Miss Angelica Glory.”

  “The actress?”

  “Yep.”

  “Damn, she’s hot. That’s a plum assignment.”

  “Maybe. We’ll see. I’m at Sugarland right now getting ready to board in fifteen minutes.”

  “What are you flying out on?”

  Jack grinned. Ted, a pilot in the Air Force, knew planes. He’d appreciate this one.

  “A Lear thirty five.”

  “Nice jet.”

  “Sure beats flying commercial.”

  “Sure does. Okay. Give me a heads up when you get the new address.”

  “Will do.”

  It began so casually, no one suspected Miss Angelica Glory had a stalker. With so many fans from all around the world, she often received gifts, cards, and letters. So when a single red rose was delivered to Miss Glory’s trailer on the set location in L.A. for the movie she was shooting, Lucy Wood, Angelica’s assistant, put the rose in a vase with water and filed the silly note away in the filing cabinet with the fan mail. Angelica’s fans sent her notes that said all sorts of things, some of them quite silly in Lucy’s opinion.

  This card said, one rose for all the ways I’m going to spoil you. – The man of your dreams.

  From a regular boyfriend, it would have been a sweet note to receive, but Angelica was currently without a boyfriend and too busy wrapping up her latest movie to have time for one. Lucy shook her head at the note, but didn’t think any more about it.

  Every day following, for twenty-three more days, the red roses arrived and they came with the same note, typed in the old fashioned way, with a typewriter using black ink on white paper. By day twenty-four, Lucy Wood was fed up with red roses and silly notes from secret admirers, though she kept her feelings to herself.

  Day twenty-five came and went with no deliveries and nothing to file away. On day twenty-seven, Lucy was in the bedroom of Angelica’s trailer on the set, putting away clothes Angelica had strewn across the bed, when someone knocked on the trailer door.

  “Coming,” she called out and hurried to the door to open it. A deliveryman stood with a package instead of the usual florist delivery person. Taking the package from him, she saw Angelica hurrying across the lot, calling, “Is that for me?”

  “Yes, it is,” Lucy called back, noting there was no return address on the small, brown package. Angelica hurried up and took the package out of Lucy’s hands. She went into her trailer and Lucy followed. Angelica sat on the couch and began opening the package as Lucy sat beside her.

  Ripping and tearing, Angelica was like an impatient child at Christmas. Once the package was open, her eyes lit at the red, lacy thing inside. Red was her favorite color.

  “What is it?” Lucy asked, leaning closer.

  Angelica lifted it up, so Lucy could see it was a red lace, see-through baby doll nightie. A note fluttered down onto the ground.

  Lucy picked the note up and handed it to Angelica.

  The note read, Wear this tonight, the man of your dreams.

  “What is this supposed to mean? Wear this tonight? I don’t have a date tonight.” Angelica crumpled the note and tossed it to the floor.

  Lucy picked it up and placed it to the side. She’d file it later.

  “No one gives me orders telling me what to wear.” Angelica’s tone became haughtier with each word. “The cup size is too small for me, it will never fit my boobs.” Angelica thrust the nightie at Lucy, saying, “Here, you take it, it will fit yours.”

  While true, the way Angelica said it sounded insulting to Lucy, who was far from the double D’s Angelica proudly showed off after her breast augmentation surgery. She liked showing off her cleavage and her bare breasts, and she liked the attention they brought her.

  Though it wasn’t a subject Lucy thought about much, the size of her breasts having never been much of a big deal before coming to work for Angelica, Lucy was no more than a C cup on a good day. Unfortunately, her boss had developed a nasty habit of finding ways to put Lucy down, and this was one of them.

  Taking the lace nightie, Lucy looked at it. It would fit her. She’d tuck it away for a special night with a special guy, if she ever had one. Which did not seem likely as long as she was working for Angelica. But maybe one day. And if not, she’d use the lace to make something else. Folding the nightie up, she said, “Thank you,” before tucking it into her big shoulder bag.

  Angelica often handed off perfectly good things she was tired of, or new things she’d never worn. Luckily, Lucy’s sewing skills enabled her to make all manner of things out of these cast offs and they, along with t
he jewelry she designed, sold at Bejeweled and Bedazzled, her online Etsy store. While she’d hoped to work in Hollywood as a costume designer one day, for now, she poured her creativity into making her jewelry while working for Miss Glory.

  As Angelica left the trailer without acknowledging Lucy’s thank you, Lucy picked up the note and frowned. This note was signed the same way as the notes that came with the roses. She’d check to be sure, but after seeing the same note so many days in a row, she was quite sure the same person sent it.

  She went into the office that evening to check and see if she was right about the notes. She opened the filing cabinet and pulled them out and laid them all on the table. Now there was no question in her mind.

  The notes were from the same person. The roses were nice, but now sending lingerie? And that note. I have a bad feeling about this. Maybe I should call Monroe.

  If Angelica’s secret admirer was someone who knew her at all, he’d have known not to speak to her the way he had in the note. It would not go over well. This had to be someone who didn’t know her.

  Lucy got out her phone and dialed. She’d kept all the notes; along with a record of what day and time they were delivered and which company delivered them. She’d learned to time and date everything because she had to cover herself with this job. Too often, there’d been problems.

  For one, Lucy kept getting locked out of her email and her social media accounts and kept having to make new passwords. This slowed down her ability to do her job, and when her emails sometimes went missing, she’d started printing them out just to protect herself.

  For another, there was the massage appointment she knew she’d made, but Sam, the masseuse, told her he’d never received. So he hadn’t shown up and Angelica had been upset. Luckily, Lucy had been able to get Sam to come out that evening after he had finished with other clients. She’d searched her email account three times, but the email she’d sent was not in the sent folder. From then on, she’d decided not to rely on emails, but to call everything in.

 

‹ Prev