Caballo Security Box Set

by Camilla Blake

  I sat back and wiped my hands on the thighs of my borrowed slacks, wishing I was better at ignoring the massive elephant in the room.

  “I wanted to ask you a couple of questions, help us figure out how best to protect you tonight.”

  I nodded, staring down at my legs. “Anything.”

  “How much do you know about the people who organized this event? Do you have a good idea of what to expect once you get there?”

  “It should go about like the one the other day, the party at the museum.”

  “But do you know these people personally?”

  I shook my head. It was nice to have something to concentrate on. “The publicist that Danny had me work with sets these things up. Whenever I travel out of Los Angeles, she arranges one or two of these things, trying to promote my philanthropy as much as possible. She and Danny insist it’s good for my public image, though I’d prefer to stick to my more anonymous charity work.”

  “Danny helped set this up?”

  I rolled my shoulders. “Sort of. The publicist is an independent contractor, but he hires her. Always the same woman.”

  “And you do this everywhere you go? Does the publicist send people out to work with the organizers of the events?”

  “Sure. There should be someone here now. But I won’t meet with them unless something goes wrong. I just get an email that tells me where to be and what to do.”

  He frowned, his expression growing thoughtful. “What about security? Does your publicist handle that, or is that Danny’s job?”

  “I suppose that’s part of the event planner’s job. I’ve never had any issues, really. I usually attend these things with Danny and Harry or Lloyd, sometimes both.”

  “But not the museum event.”

  “No. Danny said that the organizers had arranged for intense security and since the venue was so close to the hotel, there really was no need for added security. If you hadn’t gone with me, I would have taken Femi along.”

  “Doesn’t seem like a lot of security for a celebrity of your standing.”

  I scoffed a little. “Well, first of all, it’s not like I’m Kim Kardashian or anything. I’m just beginning to get my face out there in my movie career. And second, that’s why I hired Caballo. I knew Danny was skimping on the security with this trip and it made me feel uncomfortable.”

  “Who told you to hire us?”

  That caught me off guard just a little. “An actress I worked with on my first movie. I happened to mention it to her before I left Los Angeles and she gave me Ox’s name. Said she filmed a movie out here a few years ago and the production staff had hired him to keep looky-loos away from the equipment. She said he was great at his job and not too bad to look at.” I blushed a little. “Then I looked the firm up on the Internet.”

  Akker didn’t say anything to all that, and his silence was making me nervous. “What does this have to do with anything?” I asked, forcing him to acknowledge me again.

  “Nothing, probably,” he said, forcing a small smile. “I just want to look at every angle, figure out exactly which people in this little play might have had the opportunity to do the things that have happened these past few days.”

  “None of this has anything to do with my charity work. No one bothered us at the museum party.”

  “No. And it’s more than likely that no one will try to get close to you tonight, either. But we have to be prepared for every possibility.” He pushed the tray closer to me. “You should eat. Don’t let my gloomy conversation keep you from your meal.”

  “It’s not just your questions, Akker.”

  He ignored my comment. Instead, he got up and began to move around the room, much like I’d done earlier when my thoughts were so full of him and Brock and my mom and the past that I couldn’t settle down. He seemed to be suffering the same sort of agitation, and the sight of that eased my soul just a bit.

  “Who knew you were coming here and what your schedule would include?”

  “Danny, the publicist, the publicist for the movie I just finished, my father, Femi. Probably most of the people who worked on the movie, if you really want to know. And my gardener. Maybe my mail man, too.”

  “It wasn’t a big secret, in other words.”

  “In other words.”

  “What about the exact schedule? Who knew about the museum party? Who knew about the River Walk shoot?”

  I lay back on the couch and thought about it. “Danny. The publicist. The photographer and all his people. And Femi.”

  “Did you mention it on the phone?”

  “You took my phone.”

  “Before that.”

  I shook my head. “Not that I recall.”

  “Not even to your dad?”

  “No. I haven’t talked to him in a few days.”

  Akker stopped walking and leaned against the far wall, behind the couch. I twisted in my seat so that I could see him. “I know what you’re thinking,” I said. “You think that because Danny and Femi are consistently the only ones who know my schedule, they have to be involved. But I’m telling you, they aren’t!”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you’re thinking it.”

  “I’m just trying to get as much information as I can to protect you. That’s my priority, Eva.”

  “Because I’m paying your boss to make that your priority.”

  “That’s not the only reason.”

  I turned back around, throwing myself back against the couch in a childish sort of movement. “I don’t believe that.”

  “I don’t expect you to.”

  “Why do you do that?” I jumped to my feet. “Why is it so easy for you to walk away from everyone and everything? Why are you so accepting of defeat?”

  “I’m not!”

  “Sure, you are. You’ve decided that I’m still in love with Brock and that he’s still in love with me without bothering to ask either one of us. That’s you accepting defeat before it’s even given to you.”

  He shook his head, striding toward the door with determination in his step. “I think I’ve gotten all I need.”

  “Have you? You’re not going to ask about the stalker who was threatening me weeks before I flew out here? You’re not going to ask about the fact that Femi has been my makeup artist since I stepped off that plane in Los Angeles? You’re not interested in the fact that Femi is the closest friend I have right now because there’s so much jealousy and backstabbing in Hollywood that no one wants to get to know the new girl, the new up-and-coming actress, except for directors and producers who only want to get into the new girl’s pants? Are you going to ask me about the good I do with my charity work, the clinic I helped build at the county hospital here in San Antonio? You’re not going to ask about—”

  Akker turned, his full attention suddenly on me. “Wait! What did you just say?”

  I shook my head, throwing my hands up. “Which part?”

  “The part about the county hospital.”

  “I do other charity work, Akker. It’s not all for publicity—and if I had it my way, none of it would be.”

  “But you gave money to the county hospital?”

  “More than money. I’ve been working with the head of oncology there since I started making good money, trying to set up a free clinic for people who can’t afford their cancer treatments.”

  “Oncology?”

  “Yeah. That’s where my mother was diagnosed, where she saw her doctor, and where she died.”

  “Your mother died of cancer?”

  “Lung cancer. They think she got it from some chemicals she was exposed to as a kid. Her parents lived near a—”

  Akker waved his hand to shut me up even as he walked toward me. “Who have you been working with?”

  “The head of the oncology department. Seven years ago, that was Paul Watson, my mother’s doctor. But now it’s Noah—”

  “Bernstein.”

  I nodded. “I met him three years ago. He flew out to Los
Angeles so that he could pitch the idea of the free clinic. I’d already suggested the idea to Watson, but he didn’t think he could get the hospital board behind it. But Noah was excited by the idea and promised to go to bat for it if I promised the money to back it up.”

  “And you did that? You had the money to do it?”

  “Sure. You’d be surprised what insane amounts of money a model can make when she gets a big campaign like Victoria’s Secret. Besides, Bernstein used my name to get other investors on board. It didn’t take much for us to raise the money.”

  “I was just told they asked you to make a donation and you refused.”

  “Whoever told you that got their information mixed up. They did ask me for more money because the clinic has had a few problems recently, but I wrote a check and mailed it over a month ago.”

  Akker came right up to me and took my hands between both of his, holding them tight as he stared deep into my eyes. “Tell me exactly when you started meeting with Bernstein and how often.”

  “Three years ago. He was flying out to Los Angeles every month to discuss the clinic. He wanted to name it for my mother, but I talked him out of it. But he was gracious enough to share every step with me.”

  “And recently? When was the last time you saw him?”

  I shook my head, confused by Akker’s sudden interest in all this. “It’s been a couple of months, but I’m supposed to meet with him tomorrow morning.”

  He nodded, mumbling something under his breath that sounded like, “That’s why she said that…”

  “Who? What? What’s going on, Akker?”

  “I have to go check some things out, but I think I might know what’s going on.”

  “You think it has something to do with Dr. Bernstein?”

  “I think it has everything to do with him.”

  “But Akker—”

  I was wasting my breath. He was already out the door.

  Chapter 14

  Akker

  “Hey, Sara… I was hoping you could do me a little favor.”

  “Every time you call me, Akker, I get into trouble. Why do I have the feeling this won’t be any different?”

  I stood at the single window in my office and studied the busy street six stories below me. “I came through with those tickets for your little brother, didn’t I? And this time I have something better. I can get you tickets to Drake’s concert next Saturday night.”

  “You’re kidding me!”

  “Nope. I’m standing here looking at them right now.”

  It was a little bit of a lie. The tickets were actually in my desk drawer, but they were real. I’d just have to break Josie’s heart when I told her we couldn’t go.

  “What do you need?”

  “Phone records.”

  She groaned. “Why don’t you get your crack investigative team to find a legal way to do it?”

  “Because if I wait for them to do it legally, it’ll be next week before they arrive and my client might be dead by then.”

  “Is it true that your client is Eva Rae?”

  “You’ve seen the pictures?”

  “Everyone has, Akker. They don’t call it viral to be cute.”

  I sighed. “Yeah, she’s my client and she wants to go to this charity event tonight, but we need to make damn sure she’ll be safe there before we let her out of our sight. So, what do you say? Will you help me?”

  “Tucker thinks Eva Rae shits rainbows,” Sara said, almost thoughtfully. “What if instead of the Drake tickets you got Ms. Rae to film a little video for my little brother? You think you could do that?”

  “Yeah, Sara. I think she’d be grateful enough to do that.”

  “All right, then. Names.”

  I gave her six names. She wasn’t pleased, but agreed to fax the records within the hour.

  I used the computer while I waited for the phone records, checking out social media and a few other things Cheryl had taught me to do with her crack hacking abilities. I believed that was why Ox hired her, but he insisted it was because of her legitimate skills. And she was a hell of an investigator, but it didn’t hurt that she could also crack a computer system here and there.

  I was already getting a picture that I had hoped wouldn’t emerge by looking at legally obtained information. Getting into emails and credit card records only confirmed those things, and the phone records were the cherry on top of the sundae.

  I felt sick to my stomach as I began to put it all together.

  “Everyone’s leaving for the party in less than an hour, Akker,” Skylar said, sticking her head into my office. “You should be headed home.”

  I was studying the phone records and didn’t acknowledge her. She came over to my desk and pressed one crazily manicured hand—black varnish with random jewels on each sharpened nail—into the center of the phone record I was currently studying.

  “I know you’re worried, but Ox has this thing under control.”

  I looked up. “I know. Whatever they have planned, it won’t happen tonight.”

  “Then when?”

  Instead of answering, I asked, “Is Ox up in his office still?”

  “You know him. He won’t leave until we kick him out.”

  “I need to talk to him.”

  She frowned, concern furrowing her brow. “Is this about Brock?”

  “What about him?”

  “He’s on a plane right now. Their operation wrapped up and he’s on his way home.”

  I leaned back in my chair, contemplating this new information. “I hadn’t heard that.”

  “I understand there’s some past thing between him and Ms. Rae.”

  “Yeah. She was hoping to see him.”

  “She should get her chance. He’s to report in tomorrow afternoon, so he’ll be on site.”

  I nodded, imagining a reunion between Brock and Eva. I hoped she didn’t try to hit him like she’d done me. She might get a terrible surprise.

  I stood, gathering the paperwork I’d printed and begun to organize there on my desk. “Then I better go talk to Ox now.”

  “He’s worried about you, you know.”

  I glanced at her. “Me? Why?”

  “Oh, I don’t know—maybe because you got shot yesterday and you’re refusing to take time off to heal.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, touching my shoulder. Pain flared for a second, but it was the first time in hours I’d thought about it. “Doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

  “Bullshit.” She winked. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Akker.”

  “I’m fine, Skylar. You don’t have to worry about me—and you can tell him the same thing.”

  “That I can do until I’m blue in the face and it won’t do much good.” She sighed. “You guys try to stay safe and watch each other’s backs tonight.”

  “I’m telling you, nothing’s going to happen tonight.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Unfortunately, I know I’m right.”

  I tapped my foot as the elevator took me slowly up to the executive floor. It wasn’t a long ride, but it felt like a lifetime today. When I finally stepped out of the damn contraption, I was just in time to watch Oliver, Max, and a couple of other operatives march out of Ox’s office.

  “Hey, you ready to go?” Oliver wanted to know.

  “Is Valerie blessing us with her presence tonight?”

  A smile I don’t think Oliver meant to reveal popped onto his face. It was one of those smiles that spoke volumes about a relationship I really didn’t want to know about.

  “She just might be.”

  “Cool deal.”

  I continued on, dismissing his initial question as he forgot he even asked it. I tapped on Ox’s door, catching him as he was preparing to leave for the night.

  “I have something you should probably look at.” I held up the stack of papers in my hand. “You were right when you said this case was too personal for me, but you were wrong about the reason.”

  Chapter
15

  Eva

  I stared at myself in the little mirror over the bathroom sink, trying to twist and turn and check out the length of my Aidan Mattox gown. It was an embellished halter top with an empire waist, tight in places I wasn’t always comfortable with, and loose in others, but from what I could see, it looked pretty good. Not that I could see much in this tiny mirror.

  I sighed, ending my fidgeting as I fluffed the curls that were somewhat tamed in a messy bun on top of my head, a cascade of curls falling down around my face. My makeup wasn’t as great as it might have been if Femi had done it, but I’d learned a lot from watching her over the years. I thought I looked presentable.

  Ox had brought me my dress and other supplies a few hours ago, promising that everything was progressing as expected. He’d seemed surprised when I’d asked about Akker’s line of questioning on his visit earlier, but he’d covered well. I wondered what Akker was chasing that he hadn’t even bothered to tell his boss.

  The loud click of the main door opening reverberated through the panic room. I hesitated a moment, not sure who to expect when I walked back out to the living room. It could Ox, it could be Akker, it could be Max, or it could be someone I had yet to meet. It was like playing hot guy Russian roulette.

  A little voice in the back of my head reminded me there was also a slight possibility that it could be Brock. My heart didn’t know what to do with that one.

  I took a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom, hesitating only long enough to slip into my simple black pumps—Jimmy Choos that hurt just as much as the ten-dollar Walmart pumps my mom bought me once upon a time—before I headed out. He was in the living room, studying that bottle of brandy I’d found in the cabinet hours ago.

  “Are we going through with this, then?”

  He turned, those amazing hazel eyes widening as they settled on me. “Wow!” he said, his gaze moving quickly over the dress, then settling on my face, caressing it almost as though he’d touched me with the tips of his fingers.