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The Bodyguard

Page 5

by LENA DIAZ,


  Not that it really mattered. Caroline wasn’t paying attention to the view. She sat in her wheelchair staring at Alex with the same confusion Luke felt.

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  Luke shook his head. “Neither do I. Maybe you should explain one more time, Alex. How, exactly, am I supposed to protect Caroline when I won’t even be in the house with her?”

  “Mrs. Ashton already has a contract with a security company to guard the mansion. Stellar Security has an excellent record. There’s no reason to believe they can’t take care of her without your help.”

  “If you truly believe that, then why am I even here?” Luke asked.

  “To protect Mrs. Ashton.”

  Caroline’s brow furrowed and she shared another look of confusion with Luke.

  “See, that’s the part where you lost me earlier,” Luke said.

  Alex smiled. “Forgive me. I’m not explaining this very well. Based on my current understanding of the case, we only know one thing—that someone murdered Mr. Ashton. We don’t know if the killer wanted to kill him, or if Mrs. Ashton was his true target, or if it was simply a burglary gone wrong with no real connection to either of the Ashtons.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Caroline said.

  “I’m sure Detective Cornell has, but he confronted you earlier to shake you up, to see your reaction. Right now, everyone has more questions than answers. What I want to do is keep the status quo, keep the variables as close to normal as possible. That will make it much more obvious if someone has changed their routine, or if they act differently. By returning to your usual routine, it will be easier to judge people’s reactions, easier to point out if someone seems a bit...off.”

  Luke tapped the table. “And I’m supposed to sit in my car and watch the mansion? What good does that do?”

  “It allows you to become invisible. No one is going to pay attention to you outside, but if you’re inside, everyone acts differently and it will be much harder for Mrs. Ashton to pick up on any changes.”

  “Please call me Caroline, both of you. And as far as your plan, Alex, I agree it will be fairly easy for me to spot any changes that way.”

  “I’m concerned about your safety,” Luke insisted.

  “There’s no reason to believe Mrs. Ashton’s...that is, Caroline’s security company that’s already in place can’t continue to protect the mansion. Stellar Security has an unblemished reputation.”

  “You’re right. They do. Caroline, as much as it galls me to admit it, you probably don’t need me anymore.”

  She reached for his hand. From the way her eyes widened, it appeared she was just as surprised at her action as Luke was, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he threaded his fingers with hers.

  Some of the tension went out of her and she gave him a tentative smile. “It may not seem like I need you, but I do. The mansion has never been my home. No one there is my friend or cares one whit about me. While I’d prefer that you be inside, with me, just knowing you are watching over the place will give me comfort. That is, if you don’t mind.”

  He considered the hours he’d be spending sitting in his car. He wouldn’t be able to run the air conditioner all that time, not without overheating the engine, which meant he’d be the one overheating. That thought should have had him wanting to end the contract and go back to his office. But it didn’t. For some reason, he couldn’t bear not being there. He wanted, needed, to make sure she really was safe.

  “If that’s what you want, then I’m happy to stay on the case, in whatever capacity you and Alex think makes sense.”

  She smiled and pulled her hand back.

  Luke sorely missed the feel of her delicate hand in his, which surprised him again. Everything about Caroline and his reactions to her surprised him.

  Alex raised a brow at the exchange but didn’t comment on it.

  “What about Leslie?” Caroline asked Alex. “You mentioned earlier you had concerns about her.”

  “I do. Tell me, how did you end up renting the cottage where your husband was killed?”

  “Leslie helped me find it on the internet.”

  “Did she know what time you were supposed to arrive on the day you were moving in?”

  “Well, yes.” Her eyes widened. “You can’t be suggesting she had anything to do with Richard’s death.”

  “Not suggesting,” Alex said. “Just exploring the facts. She knew where you were going and what time you’d be there, so you have to consider she could have planned the murder expecting you to discover the body. She may have wanted you to look guilty.”

  Caroline shook her head. “No, that’s not what happened at all. Leslie had nothing to gain from Richard’s death. And she couldn’t have known what time I’d be at the cottage because I changed plans after leaving her office. I hired Luke. Then I went to the house.”

  Luke exchanged a look with Alex. From the expression on Alex’s face, Luke realized they were both thinking the same thing. Luke shifted forward in his chair. “Caroline, you changed plans, but Leslie didn’t know that, did she? What exactly did she think you were going to do after leaving her office?”

  Her lips compressed into a tight line. She obviously didn’t appreciate where the conversation was going. “She was just looking out for my safety. She didn’t want Richard to find me. We both agreed I would go directly to the rental.”

  “And if you had done that,” Luke said, “you would have arrived right about the time your husband was shot. It sounds to me like you wouldn’t have had an alibi if you had done what your lawyer expected you to do.”

  The resentment on her face faded as the truth hung in the air between them.

  She swallowed hard. “Leslie did stress that I needed to go directly to the cottage, that I shouldn’t stop anywhere. But that doesn’t mean she had anything to do with Richard’s death. You’re suggesting she might have wanted to frame me. What would she gain from that?”

  Alex shook his head. “I have no idea. But we need to look at all the possibilities. I have other concerns about Miss Harrison. She’s a tax attorney, but she still took the same oath I did. She knows that protecting her clients is her first priority. And by allowing you to speak to the police without a criminal-law attorney present, she displayed incredibly poor judgment, at the least. I’d like you to be careful around her until the investigation can clear her of any involvement. You can still keep her in your normal routine, but don’t sign anything or agree to anything without vetting it through me first. See if she does anything to raise red flags with you.”

  “Okay, but I can tell you there’s no reason to be concerned. Leslie is the only friend I have. She’s the one who helped me get the cottage and helped me plan leaving my husband.”

  Alex crossed his arms. “How long did she know about the abuse?”

  Caroline’s gaze fell to her lap. “About six months.”

  Luke cursed.

  Alex looked as if he wanted to do the same, but he refrained. “As a lawyer, it was Miss Harrison’s obligation to help you. While she may not have been legally bound to report the abuse like a doctor would be, she’s ethically and morally bound to do so. I assure you, her turning a blind eye—even if she helped you later on—would not look well for her if she came up for review before the bar.”

  “I don’t want her to get in trouble,” Caroline said. “Whether you agree with her methods or not, she’s the only one who ever tried to help me, the only person who ever seemed to notice there was anything wrong. Without her, I would never have figured out how to escape.”

  “How long was the abuse going on?” Alex asked.

  Her face went pale. “Years.”

  “Then why now? After all that time, what made you decide it was time to leave?”

  “The baby,” she whispered. “As so
on as I realized I was pregnant, I decided I had to figure out a way to get out of there. I couldn’t risk bringing up a child in that environment. I may have been weak and a coward when it came to myself, but I couldn’t do that to a child. I started making plans that same day.” She closed her eyes. “But before everything was finalized, Richard...taught me one of his...lessons. The cramping, the bleeding...I knew I’d lost the baby. I was so ashamed. I couldn’t allow myself to risk getting pregnant again, risk the life of another child.”

  Luke took her hand in his. “Stop talking like that. You aren’t weak, or a coward. You were in an untenable situation. I understand the cycle of abuse. I’ve seen it over and over. It’s not easy to get out. Your abuser plays a mind game on you, slowly wearing you down until one day you don’t even know how you got in the place where you’re at. It’s not your fault. None of this. It’s Richard Ashton’s fault. And you didn’t kill your child. He did.”

  Unshed tears made her eyes bright. She gave him a watery smile. “Thank you.”

  He squeezed her hand in answer.

  Alex frowned. “I’m sure Miss Harrison has filed your husband’s will with the courts by now, but I’m new to this case and don’t have the particulars. Can you give me a summary? Who are Mr. Ashton’s beneficiaries?”

  “His brothers and me.”

  “Split equally?”

  “No. For some reason, Richard decided to leave me the bulk of the estate. He left five million to each of his brothers, but everything else goes to me.”

  “Did he get along with his brothers?”

  “More with Daniel than Grant, but he fought with both of them off and on over the years. Daniel hasn’t been to the house in quite some time, but I don’t know if he and Richard were fighting or not. Grant comes over more often, but his visits usually end in some kind of argument. He and Richard seem to have...issues. They came to blows on occasion. Richard was definitely the type to hold a grudge, so maybe that explains why he didn’t leave much—relative to the entire estate, of course—to Grant. But I thought Richard and Daniel had a better relationship overall. I don’t understand why he left Daniel so little.”

  “Forgive me,” Alex said, “but I have to ask because you can bet the police will. If you’d divorced, was there an agreement in place about what you would have received?”

  “Yes. Two hundred thousand dollars a year, for life. I was never worried about the money. Trust me, that kind of money would have been plenty.”

  “A jury might feel differently. That’s a drastic change in lifestyle for someone who’s used to being in a mansion, married to a billionaire.” He shrugged. “Those are the facts. We’ll just have to deal with them.”

  Luke leaned forward in his chair. “Let’s get back to the plan for how to keep her safe until the killer is caught. I’m all for assuming she’s as much a target as her husband. I’d rather be too cautious than to let down my guard. First thing to consider—what do we do about the funeral for Mr. Ashton?”

  Chapter Five

  It nearly killed Luke being outside Caroline’s inner circle, relying on Alex’s instincts that she’d be safe with her usual bodyguards, at least for now. But he did as Alex had suggested. The plan the defense lawyer had put in place seemed solid. And Alex had hired a private investigator to dig into everything on the side to bolster Caroline’s defense, if that became necessary, and also to try to find out the identity of the killer.

  The investigator was also digging into Leslie Harrison’s past to see if she had anything to gain by either framing Caroline, or by having her killed along with Richard if Caroline had arrived at the cottage when Leslie expected her to that day.

  Luke watched the hospital entrance from his 1997 Ford Thunderbird parked between two tall SUVs that made it less likely anyone would notice him. Not that they would anyway. Few people stopped to admire his olive-green, beat-up car, which was exactly how he wanted it. This was his work car, built like a tank, dented and scratched from run-ins when the people he was protecting his clients from decided to come after him instead. He even had several spare tires in the trunk instead of the traditional “one,” prepared for the next time someone decided to slash his tires.

  But worrying about some pimp coming after him wasn’t on his mind today. Caroline was. She was being released from the hospital. And her husband’s funeral was being held today. Alex had advised her to go to the funeral, whether she wanted to or not, saying it would look bad if she didn’t attend. If things didn’t go her way and she ended up in court, accused of orchestrating her husband’s murder, her not being at the funeral might poison the jury against her. So here she was, about to leave the hospital and having to pay homage to the man who’d put her there in the first place.

  The idea made Luke sick and wish he could bring the bastard back from the dead and kill him himself.

  The parking lot around him was filled with media vans. As soon as the Ashton Rolls-Royce pulled up the circular driveway to the front of the hospital, reporters converged on them like a swarm of mosquitoes.

  His cell phone vibrated on the seat beside him. He glanced at the screen, then put it on speaker. “Hey, Mitch.”

  “You still at the hospital?”

  “Sitting out front. The Ashton limo just drove up. She should be out soon. Are you in position?”

  “I’ve got the best spot in the cemetery picked out. Not close enough to the party to be obvious, but close enough to observe and photograph everyone who shows up. I’m starting to like this P.I. stuff. You might have to expand the business and make me lead detective.”

  “Guess that depends on how well you do today. I’d say don’t make a scene taking pictures, but with the media horde that will be there, you aren’t going to stand out anyway. Alex will have someone there taking pictures, too. Between the both of you, if Alex’s theory that the killer will be there is true, we’ll at least have him or her on camera and be able to start a list of potential suspects.” He shook his head at the crowd of reporters trying to get past the police line at the hospital for a better angle for their cameras. “Then again, counting the press, we’ll probably have hundreds of people to look into.”

  “Doesn’t bother me at all. Like I said, I’m enjoying this. It’s a heck of a lot better than sitting in the office all day.”

  “Speaking of which, who’s looking after things while you’re playing amateur sleuth?”

  “Trudy.”

  Luke squeezed the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got my business being watched over by a hooker?”

  “Ex-hooker. She’s gone respectable, trying to make a living with her feet on the ground for a change.”

  “Since when?”

  “Well...playing office secretary might be her first real gig, but I think it’s great for us to give her a start toward a better life, don’t you?”

  Luke rolled his head on his shoulders, trying to relieve the growing knot of tension. He was all for helping the less fortunate, but not at the expense of his livelihood.

  He was about to set Mitch straight when the passenger door to the limo opened and one of the Ashton-estate security guards got out. The hospital doors swished open. Out came Caroline Ashton, looking extra pale in a conservative black dress, being pushed in a wheelchair by a nurse. Beside her was her so-called friend Leslie Harrison. A bevy of security guards surrounded them both, preventing any of the reporters from getting near her. Luke had to admit that he was impressed with how Stellar Security had handled the situation.

  “I’ve got to go. They’re helping Mrs. Ashton into the limo. After the burial, get those pictures straight to Alex.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Luke ended the call and eased out of the parking lot, keeping well back from the Rolls-Royce and the caravan of press hounds sniffing in its wake.

  * * *

  HUNDREDS
OF PEOPLE who’d worked for Richard at his various companies turned out for the viewing at the funeral home. Caroline tried to be gracious as she sat up front and accepted their condolences. But it was hard to smile and listen to so many people who had such wonderful stories to tell about her husband, when she’d seen so little of that warmth as his wife.

  By the time the viewing was closed and everyone had filed out except the funeral director and security guards, and, of course, Leslie—who didn’t seem inclined to ever leave her side—Caroline’s nerves were stretched so tight she thought she might start screaming like the madwoman so many people believed her to be.

  “Caroline, we should go now or we’ll be late for the burial,” Leslie said.

  Leslie’s worries seemed silly with the coffin sitting a few feet away. They couldn’t hold a funeral without the guest of honor.

  She hadn’t gone near the coffin with everyone else there. At first, she had assumed she wouldn’t want to, but now, knowing this was the last time she’d ever see him, she had the sudden urge to do so.

  “I’d like a few moments alone, please.”

  Leslie frowned. “But we need to—”

  “I need a few moments alone,” she repeated and looked pointedly at the security guard closest to her.

  Leslie’s brows rose, but she got up as the guard stopped in front of her. She gave Caroline an irritated look and left the room.

  Once all the guards were gone, she sat for several moments, trying to gather her courage.

  A whisper of sound had her turning her head. Luke Dawson, dressed in a black suit, moved up the aisle and sat beside her. He put his hand on the wooden bench seat, palm up, an unspoken offer of friendship and support. She didn’t hesitate. She put her hand in his.

  “I’d hoped you’d come,” she said.

  “I gave you a promise that I’d keep you safe. In spite of what Alex recommends, I can’t seem to stay that far away from you.” He inclined his head toward the coffin. “If you want me to leave, I will.”

 

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