by Virna DePaul
“Hey! There’s your sex-pot,” Jill said.
Luke looked up at the television and felt his heart kick into gear when he saw Kat Bailey. It was an old shot of her accepting an Emmy. Almost immediately, the screen switched to the image of an empty movie set. Luke reached for the remote and turned up the sound.
“…she’s cancelled interviews on both Ellen and The Tonight Show, and hasn’t made any public appearances in several days. While one source tells us she’s heading to Italy with a certain blue-eyed co-star, another says that between the scandal with former flame Ray Hamilton, contract disputes concerning salary, and Bailey’s major on-set tantrum about the size of her dressing room compared to her male co-star, Bailey’s decided to walk away from Hollywood for good. The actress has been unavailable for comment but her manager had this to say.”
The screen morphed into a picture of Bailey’s manager, Charlie, looking harried and tense. “Miss Bailey is simply taking some time to relax after a hectic filming schedule. We ask that you respect her privacy at this time.” The reporters shouted out questions. Most of them wanted to know if Bailey’s sudden disappearance had anything to do with her very public split from her ex, and new rumors that a sex tape featuring the two of them was going to be released imminently.
Luke was suddenly overcome by a very bad feeling, and it wasn’t because of the possibility of a sex tape, though the thought of her ex doing that to her was indeed infuriating. The thought of Bailey, the same woman he’d watched in front of Hang Tough Café playing with a dog, the talented actress he’d watched on the screen, and the consummate professional he’d read about, having a fit over something as silly as a dressing room just didn’t ring true. Neither did her cancelling interviews to grab some R&R. Not without a damn good reason.
“I guess it’s a good thing you turned that one down, after all,” Cole said. “And that you didn’t ask her out.”
“What?” Jill exclaimed, eyes wide. “You wanted to ask her out?”
“No. I mean, yes. Maybe.” Luke sighed. “Sorry, will you two excuse me for a second?” Cole looked confused, but Luke already had his phone out. He called Charlie.
“What do you need, Indigo?” Charlie’s voice was clipped.
“I just heard about Bailey cancelling her interviews. You said she’s taking some time off to rest. Is that true?”
“Like you care?”
Luke cocked a brow. Charlie sounded beyond short now. He sounded accusatory. “Charlie, I couldn’t take the case, but that doesn’t mean I’m not concerned for her safety. I referred you to another professional. I even checked in…”
“Yeah, okay. But damn, things have gone to shit.”
Luke’s feeling of trepidation intensified. “What the hell happened?”
“This hasn’t been made public knowledge, but two days ago Kat was almost run off the road by a speeding car on her way from an event. She was really close to being pushed over the side of a cliff.”
His gut twisted into knots at the mental image of a frightened and injured Kat, her beautiful face bruised and bloody. He felt sick to his stomach. His knees went weak. His reaction was completely over the top given he’d never even spoken to the damn woman. He ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus, was she hurt?”
“Not physically, but she’s really shaken.”
“Where the hell was her bodyguard?”
“He disappeared an hour before. She said she didn’t want to get him in trouble so she waited to tell anyone. We didn't find out about it until after the near-miss accident.”
Accident or attempted murder? “Shit! Have you found him?”
“No foul play. He fell off the wagon and went on a bender. That’s why Kat was driving alone that night.”
Luke pounded his fist against the table, making Jill jump. Cole frowned and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“Where is she now?”
“I have no idea. Yesterday, she told me she needed to take some time off. That she needed to take care of herself because no one else was going to, and that meant re-evaluating her career.”
“And the dressing room incident?”
“Bullshit. Someone leaked a fake story.”
Just as Luke had figured.
“Kat’s been feeling out of control for a while now, and this just drove her over the edge so to speak.” Charlie hissed. “Shit. Poor choice of words.”
“No kidding,” Luke said flatly. “So you really don’t know where she is…or who she’s with?”
“No. My calls all go straight to voicemail.”
“Damn it!” Luke didn’t even have to think about what he was going to do. “I’m going to see what I can find out. Keep me posted if she shows up or you hear from her.”
“Will do.”
Luke hung up. “Fuck!” He looked at Cole, knowing his partner had gotten the gist of the conversation already.
“It’s not your fault,” Cole said.
“Like hell it isn’t. Her bodyguard disappeared then someone tried to run her off the road. Her manager doesn’t know where she is. I should never have passed her case over to someone else.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“No. But I shouldn’t have left her protection to someone else. Not when—”
He pressed his lips together tightly.
“Not when what?” Cole asked. “This is nothing like your dad’s situation, Luke. Nothing. I know the anniversary of his death is in a few days, and he’s got to be on your mind, but tell me you know it’s not the same.”
When Luke didn’t answer, he whistled. “She really got to you, didn’t she?”
Automatically, he shook his head, more to clear it than to deny what Cole had said. “Doesn’t matter. All I need right now is to find her. Fast.”
Chapter Three
Kat had been twice nominated for an Oscar, had attended premieres in London and Tokyo, and had been paid an obscene amount of money to endorse a beauty cream, but in all that time, she’d never been as content as she was right now, sitting on the porch of the cabin she’d rented and looking out at the spectacular view of Lake Tahoe just before sunset. Granted, her contentment was closer to relief than pleasure. After she’d almost been run off the road, she’d fled, seeking refuge somewhere else since not even her own home felt safe anymore. She’d wanted privacy, and she’d taken great care to make sure she hadn’t been followed. She’d even considered dying her red hair so she wouldn’t be recognized, but had settled for braiding it and hiding beneath a baseball cap and glasses. Then she’d holed up inside her cabin despite her fear of becoming a shut-in just like her mother.
Two days ago, she’d finally forced herself out onto the porch. Nothing horrible had happened, and that had given her the courage to venture outside again the following day. This morning, rejuvenated by the fresh air and the beautiful scenery, she’d even gone for a morning run, something she hadn’t done in months. She still was a little jumpy, and carried a canister of pepper spray around with her constantly, but for the most part, she’d managed to put things in perspective and stop thinking that at any moment, someone was going to jump out of the surrounding woods and try to kill her.
Even as she’d sought privacy, she’d been too afraid to be completely isolated. This cabin had been her compromise. She was only about a mile from the casinos and a few blocks from the beach. The cabin had a hot tub, Internet, and a flat screen television. All of the amenities of home without the paparazzi.
And hopefully without any crazy stalkers.
Even better, if she needed help, there were enough people in the vicinity that they’d hear her cry out. In fact, there was now someone in the cabin next to hers.
When she’d first checked in under her mother’s maiden name, a persona she’d used before, the cabin had been empty. Yesterday, she’d watched from her window as a big, hunky guy moved in with a suitcase and a few packing boxes. He’d also had a dog with him—a chocolate brown Labradoodle with tightly curled fur resemb
ling a sheep’s coat.
She’d watched the man suspiciously at first, but when she’d seen the dog, she’d relaxed considerably. Talk about a mismatched set. The dog was designer adorable while the man looked equal parts dashing and dangerous. Yet when the silly thing ran back and forth under his feet, he didn’t get upset. Instead, he put down his box or whatever he’d been carrying and crouched down to rub the dog’s tummy. The man was the epitome of masculine sexuality, yet even more attractive was the fact he was so obviously self assured— he could own whatever kind of dog he wanted, even if it was a fuzz ball, and didn’t care that it might ruin his macho image.
He was just over six feet. His shoulders broad, the muscles obviously well-defined, even through his shirt. The dangerous vibe he exuded wasn’t so much scary as it was the “I will protect my woman at all cost, so back off” kind. It made her wonder if he had a wife, one that would be joining him and the dog soon. The presence of a wife would make her feel even better about him being next door to her, but surprisingly, she wasn’t all that concerned either way.
It helped that he showed absolutely no interest in wanting to get to know her.
Or even that he knew who she was.
When he first caught a glimpse of her, there’d been no widening of his eyes, no catch of breath with recognition. He’d simply given her a blank half-smile, then gotten distracted by his dog and promptly forgot about her.
This morning, when she’d gone for her run, he and his dog had been returning from a walk. They’d made eye contact and he’d said good-morning in a voice that oozed masculinity but almost immediately he’d looked away and headed toward his front door.
“Good morning,” she’d called back, feigning a casualness she didn’t feel. Even though he hadn’t looked back at her, she’d spent far too much time on her run wondering who he was. What his name was. What he did for a living. Whether he was good in bed.
With his looks and hot body, his sexual prowess should be a foregone conclusion, but she’d been with enough good-looking men in her time to know that wasn’t always the case.
Just as she had the thought, her neighbor appeared, obviously having just finished an evening run with his dog. Both were slightly out of breath and his t-shirt was stained with sweat.
Before she knew what she was doing, she called out, “Hello!” Almost immediately, she mentally cursed. Why the hell had she done that? She’d come here to hide out. To protect herself and to think about whether quitting acting was a viable option for her. She shouldn’t be talking to a strange man no matter how harmless he seemed.
He blinked as if he hadn’t seen her. It was what she was looking for—anonymity—but for some reason she almost ached for him to really notice her.
“Good evening,” he said with a polite smile.
Since she had no choice now but to engage him in conversation or ignore him (which would make her look insane), she said, “Your dog is so cute. What’s his name?”
He chuckled. “Bella.”
“Oh, sorry Bella. I should have known she was too pretty to be a boy.”
The big guy laughed again and she waited for him to say something flirty. Instead he looked at her steadily with his steely gray eyes. “You have a good night.”
“You too, thanks.” She watched him and the dog disappear into his cabin. Even as his disinterest in getting to know her smarted her pride, it also filled her with relief and buoyed her spirits. See? She was a good judge of character. She could take care of herself just fine. She didn’t need to rely on bodyguards that would disappear when she needed them most. That would be even truer once she gave up acting.
If she gave up acting.
She just wasn’t sure if she wanted to do that. What would she do instead? She wasn’t trained to do anything else. Sure, she could go back to school, but the thought of doing so intimidated her. She tried picturing herself as a college co-ed. At twenty seven, she’d be so much older than everyone. The girls would be giggly. The boys would be boys, not men.
Not like the man next door.
There was something tough about him. Strong in a way that only a select few men were strong. Strong in a way that had far more to do with inner character than physicality.
She found herself imagining what he did for a living. Cop? Contract killer? Ex-CIA agent in hiding? Boy, her imagination was running wild. She’d obviously read too many scripts and mystery novels. And, she realized, because she’d spent so much time thinking about her neighbor, the sun had set and darkness was rapidly descending. With a shake of her head, she got up and went inside to have her dinner, locking the door securely behind her.
She fixed herself a bowl of tomato soup and a Cobb salad, and took them into the living room. She set the TV tray up in front of the recliner and opened the book she was reading. It was nice to have time to sit and read for a change. Usually her schedule was packed with filming and personal appearances and photo shoots, and by the time she made it home at night she was ready to pass out.
She started reading as she ate, but the more she pushed thoughts of her hot neighbor out of her mind, the more she thought back to the night she’d almost been run off the road. Her hand trembled slightly at the memory and she had to put her spoon down.
You’re fine. You had every right to be freaked out, every right to run, but now you have to be practical.
There’d been no real evidence that someone had wanted to hurt her. It could easily just have been a careless driver. She’d given in to her fear and paranoia for a bit, but she couldn’t go overboard. Even her bodyguard’s disappearance had been the result of alcohol, not foul play. But instead of comforting her, the mental reminder made her frown.
She’d known she shouldn’t hire a bodyguard! If she hadn’t been relying on him, she’d have done things differently that night. She wouldn’t even have attended the party thrown by a former co-star. To make matters worse, she’d been so preoccupied—wondering where the bodyguard had gone and if anything bad had happened to him—that she’d been unusually distracted, and she hadn’t seen the car coming at her until it was too late. Relying on someone else to protect her was what had truly made her vulnerable, and she wouldn’t make that same mistake again.
The only person she could rely on was herself.
* * *
After showering and changing clothes, Luke did a final check of his cabin’s living area, making sure the accessories he’d brought with him were displayed to his liking. Shit. Accessories. If his buddies could see him now, they’d laugh their asses off. Not just Cole, but Jamie, Eric, Ryan, and Gabe, too. His best friends weren’t cavemen, but he’d bet none of them had framed pictures normally kept in a shoebox only to agonize about where to place each one for maximum effect.
They’d understand the need to get a job done, however, and if that job meant presenting himself in a way that made him as approachable and trustworthy as possible, so be it. The best accessory he’d brought with him, Bella, had done wonders to win Kat Bailey over already. Good thing his sister had been okay with loaning the dog out; notably, she hadn’t asked why Luke needed her and Luke hadn’t offered up an explanation. She’d just rolled her eyes, hugged him, and told him to take care of himself and her dog.
He walked into his bedroom, where his surveillance equipment and weapons were stored under the bed in a locked bag, just in case someone broke in while he was gone. Of course, his men, who were holed up in a different cabin not far away, had eyes on the place and would know if that happened, but he didn’t want to take any chances with Kat so close by. Dragging the bag out, he laid it on the bed, opened it, and studied what was inside.
Tools of the trade. After some careful consideration, he removed the gun strapped to his calf and returned it. Then he selected a different gun, a smaller one with a silencer attached to the mouth, and placed it in his leg harness. The sleeker gun had less firepower but would also be harder for Kat to spot, even if she was looking for it, which he doubted she would be. Confident th
at he was sufficiently armed, he ignored the rest of the contents of the bag, including several small grenades. Some might say the weapons were overkill considering Kat had “only” been threatened by a stalker and almost run off the road, but again, he wasn’t taking any chances.
He’d come prepared for any eventuality, as was his habit. And as far as he was concerned, there was no downside to that.
After once again locking the bag and stowing his things securely under the bed, he returned to the living room, noting that Bella had taken her normal spot in front of the fireplace. He went to the window and looked outside. Kat was gone.
His phone rang. Craig Lancaster’s ring tone.
“She’s safely inside,” Craig said when Luke answered. “You going to head out?”
“Getting ready to,” Luke said. “Did you take care of the rental office’s phone line?”
“Affirmative. It’s set to be rerouted if the incoming call comes from either your line or Ms. Bailey’s.”
“Great. Then let’s hope everything goes as planned.”
* * *
Kat was only a few bites into her meal when the entire cabin went dark. She froze. Fear spiraled through her, and she forced herself to take several deep breaths.
Calm down. It’s probably just a blown fuse.
She peered outside and saw that Mr. Hottie’s cabin was still illuminated. She could hear the wind blowing outside. Random creaks. When a shadow in the house shifted, likely because of some swaying tree branches outside, she suddenly found herself back on the set of Love Me, the thriller she’d starred in. She’d only been nineteen at the time. In the movie, an older man had stalked her character after she’d made casual conversation with him at a gas station, and she’d barely escaped with her life.
Carefully, letting the dim light coming in from the windows guide her, Kat made her way to her purse and pulled out her phone. She winced when she saw all the old notifications, mostly from Charlie who’d been trying to get hold of her. She’d already texted him back, telling him she was fine and simply needed a bit more time to herself to figure things out, but he hadn’t stopped trying to reach her. She’d have to call him back, but right now she had to deal with the matter at hand. She thought about calling the rental office, but it would take a while for them to get here, and she was getting more and more nervous being inside the darkened cabin with every second that went by. She considered trying to find the fuse box, but it was just as dark outside as it was inside. Granted, there was probably a flashlight somewhere but…