by Joanna Wayne
“I’m not sure what I know anymore.”
“Trust me. You and Alex will be safe.”
“Why did that man break into our house last night? What did he want with you?”
“He was just some lunatic stalker who went over the edge. You know I’d tell you if there was more.”
Alex padded into the room before Kelly had time to respond.
“Is it time to get dressed for your big party, Daddy?”
Nick picked her up and set her on his lap. “Not quite, sweetheart, but you are going to be the prettiest girl there.”
Nick patted Kelly’s knee. “Promise me that you’ll cancel the flight. I’ll make it worthwhile.”
But she wasn’t making promises, not until she talked to the bodyguard, and maybe not then. There was another knock at the door.
The next visitor had arrived.
JACK WAS CONFIDENT he’d gathered his resolve by the time he reached the hotel. Sure, it had taken him an eternity to get over one night with Kelly, but he’d been young and gullible. He’d toughened up a lot in the years since then. If nothing else, the army had made a man of him—and put a few pins in his left leg.
There had been plenty of women since Kelly, beautiful and sexy women. He’d liked them just fine. It was only that the timing had never been right for making any of the relationships permanent.
Kelly probably wasn’t nearly as terrific as he remembered her. More likely, she was a spoiled Hollywood snob, and he’d feel nothing but relief when this assignment was over.
The cop who’d checked his credentials knocked again, then stepped back as the door opened. And there was Kelly.
One look and he knew he was in deep trouble.
Chapter Two
Friday, 9:55 a.m.
Nick Warner’s hotel suite
“Jack Sanders?”
“In the flesh.” He met Kelly’s gaze and then looked away quickly. The air in the stuffy hall seemed charged with her presence.
“What are you doing here? I mean, how did you know I—”
“I’m with Prescott Personal Securities,” he interrupted, before she got the wrong idea—whatever that might be. “Your husband called and requested our services.”
“Oh. You’re here for that.” She stepped aside, and he entered the spacious suite, taking in everything at once the way he’d been trained to do—but still taking in too much of Kelly. Her perfume was light and flowery, her eyes as green as he remembered them, but shadowed instead of sparkling the way they had when they’d—
He halted his runaway thoughts. No way he was going there. “Jack Sanders,” he said extending his hand to the man standing behind Kelly. “With Prescott Personal Securities.”
“Yeah, I heard. I’m Nick Warner.” The guy moved his gaze from Jack to Kelly. “Do you two know each other?”
“We went to the same high school, at least for our senior year,” Kelly said.
Nick gave Jack a quick once-over, then frowned as if he’d come out lacking. “So you’re from around Lake Tahoe?”
“No. I’m from Montana,” Jack said. “I lived in the Lake Tahoe area for a year.”
Jack had made it a point never to see one of Nick’s films, but he’d caught him a few times on late-night television shows. Nick was actually larger in the flesh, an inch or so taller than Jack’s six feet two inches, with broad shoulders and muscular biceps. His muscles flexed beneath the white T-shirt he was wearing, and Jack wondered if he were half as tough as the image he tried to project.
Nick put a possessive arm around Kelly’s shoulders. “It’s nice that you and Kelly already know each other. That might make this a little easier on her. She had a rough night. I guess your supervisor filled you in on that.”
“Some. I’ll want to hear it from Kelly, as well.” The door behind Nick was open and Jack could hear a TV playing in the other room. “How large is the suite?”
“This room,” Nick said, motioning to the living-dining area where they were standing, “and two bedrooms.”
“So that would be three doors that open into the hall?”
“Yes, but I already have a police detail working that. Your responsibility will only be Kelly and our daughter, Alex. I’ll expect you to accompany them wherever they want to go including the premiere tonight. But keep a low profile at the premiere. We don’t want to draw any attention to you.”
His authoritative tone ticked Nick off, not that he wasn’t used to it. A lot of the celebrities who hired PPS started out thinking they gave the orders. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that with PPS, Mr. Warner. If someone’s under my protection, I can’t guarantee a low profile.”
“I’ve already checked, and the security at the venue is more than adequate. I expect you to…”
Nick stopped midsentence, evidently changing his mind about the ultimatum he seemed about to issue. “Do what’s necessary,” he said. “And don’t worry about the cost. Nothing is more important to me than my wife’s and daughter’s safety.”
“Then we need to start with the facts about what happened last night and what led up to it.”
There was a knock at the door. Jack watched as Nick left Kelly’s side to greet Karen Butte, a local who did investigative reporting for one of the national news networks as well as one of the local channels. He’d met her last year when she’d been investigating a suspected terrorist cell in the Denver area. It was a cell that he’d successfully infiltrated and fortunately had stopped them before they’d carried out a bombing plot.
She and Jack exchanged hellos, but her demeanor was all business. He wondered what she was investigating that she’d need to talk to Nick about.
Another man stepped out of one of the bedrooms. He appeared to be in his midthirties, around six feet tall, short brown hair, neatly dressed in tailored gray slacks and a light blue dress shirt.
“Mitchell, could you meet with Jack Sanders and Kelly in the empty bedroom while I give Miss Butte a short interview?” Nick said. “Jack’s the bodyguard I hired for Kelly. Give him your full cooperation and sign whatever he needs signed.”
Mitchell smiled. “Absolutely.” He turned to Jack and offered his hand and a limp handshake. “Mitchell Caruthers.”
Jack followed Kelly and Mitchell into the bedroom. He wasn’t sure what Nick meant by full cooperation, but he had an idea that it wasn’t the same as his. It didn’t matter. They’d do this Jack’s way—or they wouldn’t do it at all. He never took chances with clients’ lives, and he damn sure wouldn’t start with Kelly’s.
KELLY WORKED to get her reactions under control. Her nerves were already rattled, and having Jack Sanders show up at her door did nothing to settle them. She smoothed her hair and wished she’d put on makeup. Not that it mattered. She and Jack were ancient history. Still, it was nice—and a little surprising—that he remembered her.
Mitchell motioned for Jack to take a seat in the room. Jack moved toward a chair but stood until Kelly settled on the tweed love seat. Mitchell grabbed a pad of paper from his desk and took a seat beside her.
“Your firm comes highly recommended,” Mitchell said. Nick had me check that out before he contacted you. But before we sign any official agreement, I’d like to know your personal credentials for the job.”
“A fair question.” Jack sat back and crossed his right foot over his left knee. “I was in the army for eleven years, seven of those in a special combat unit trained for search-and-rescue operations and infiltrating terrorist camps.”
“Why did you leave the army?”
“I was injured while on an undercover operation in Afghanistan.”
“So the army dropped you when you could no longer adequately perform your duties?”
“No, I left the army because I was ready for new challenges.”
“But you are disabled?”
“No. I’m fully recovered and extremely able. That’s why I’m here.”
Mitchell’s cell phone rang. He checked the ID. “Personal,” he said.
“You’ll have to excuse me a minute.” He took the call as he walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and leaving Kelly and Jack alone.
Awareness trickled along Kelly’s nerve endings, and she felt the heat rise to her cheeks. Fortunately, Jack didn’t seem to notice.
“I’d like to hear your version of what happened last night.”
She took a few seconds to pull the fractured, frightening facts from her memory and get them in order. “It was somewhere around 3:00 a.m. My daughter woke up and I was getting her a glass of milk when all of a sudden this man grabbed me from behind.”
“Was anyone staying in the house besides you and your daughter?”
“My husband, Nick, but he wasn’t there. He was…” She hesitated. There was nowhere to go with the statement, at least nowhere she wanted to go with Jack. “My husband was busy with social activities related to the premiere of his movie.”
“So you and your daughter were alone?”
“Nick had hired a security service to watch the house. There was no reason to think we wouldn’t be perfectly safe.”
Jack nodded, and she went on with her story, repeating it exactly as it happened, right down to finding the bloody body at her door.
“Did the intruder threaten you or your daughter at any time during the confrontation?”
“Yes.”
“What did he threaten?”
She tried, but couldn’t remember exactly what he’d said. She’d felt threatened, feared for Alex, thought the man might rape her. Yet…
“The threat wasn’t detailed,” she admitted, “but the intruder led me to believe he might hurt Alex if I screamed or caused any kind of commotion.”
“But he didn’t put that into words?”
Kelly shook her head. “Not exactly. He said I should keep Alex out of it, or something to that effect. I took that to mean I shouldn’t alarm her so that she came into the hallway where the man was holding me.”
“What about you, Kelly?”
“What about me?”
“I know the man frightened you and knocked you down, but did he give any specific threats about harming you?”
Finally she saw where Jack was going with this. “It was my husband he wanted, but he killed a guard. He might just as easily have killed Alex or me.”
Jack leaned forward. “I’m not trying to belittle the danger. I’m just trying to understand it. The better handle we have on what this man is after, the easier it is to intercept him.”
Finally, she met Jack’s gaze. His eyes crinkled at the corners—pulled by tiny wrinkles that hadn’t been there fourteen years ago. But he still had that indefinable something that had driven her half-crazy back then.
“Did he say what he wanted with Nick?”
“No. My husband thinks he’s a stalker who went over the edge.”
“Did he appear to be drunk or on drugs?”
“Not that I could tell. I didn’t smell alcohol on his breath. He did smell of garlic and sweat, though.”
“What else did you notice about him?”
“His hands were rough. When he touched my breast—”
“Whoa!” Jack said, breaking into her explanation. “I was told he didn’t violate you in any way.”
“He just skimmed my breast with his hand. That was all. When I complained he knocked me against the wall and left.”
Jack’s expression hardened, as if the man’s touching her changed things. “Can you describe his physical appearance?”
“It was dark, so I couldn’t see a lot of details, but he was medium build, taller than me by a few inches, but not as tall as Nick—or you. Oh, yeah, and he had a tattoo on his arm. The light was too dim to make out the design.”
“Did he wear any kind of mask or covering over his face?”
“A ski mask. I told all of this to Gilly Carter. He’s the detective who showed up after the original patrolman answered my 911 call.”
“Did you get any sense that you might have met him before?”
“No, but there are always so many people hanging around Nick that I could have met him and still not recognized his voice. Next time I’ll be much more observant.”
Next time. The thought sent a chill through her.
Jack raised his right arm to scratch a spot just behind his ear, and she glimpsed the shoulder holster beneath his denim jacket. She wasn’t surprised that he was wearing a weapon, but his protector status made her even more aware of how much he’d changed from their high school days.
“Have you been to one of your husband’s premieres before? Jack asked.
“Several times.”
“Then what’s the big deal about going to this one instead of staying out of crowds for a few days? Aren’t they all pretty much the same?”
“To an outsider perhaps, but not to the star.”
“And that would be your husband?”
“Exactly. Alex and I came to Denver specifically for the premiere. I’m having second thoughts about it after last night, but I guess there’s no real reason not to go.”
“How do you figure?”
“The intruder obviously didn’t want to harm either Alex or me. If he had, he would have done it.”
“The man who broke into your house is a killer. You can’t be too careful as long as a lunatic like that is on the loose. If my questions made you think otherwise, I’m sorry I misled you.”
“Then you don’t think our attending the premiere is a good idea?”
“Give me some time to check it out. I have some men from PPS evaluating the security at the theater. We have lots of extra protection we can put in place, but if I feel there’s any risk at all, my recommendation will be that you forgo the event.”
“And catch the next plane back to L.A.?”
“That’s your call. What about this Mitchell guy?” Jack asked. “What’s his official job around here?”
“Mitchell Caruthers is Nick’s manager, publicist, and sometimes voice of reason.”
“Do you trust him?”
“Totally. He’s been with Nick since his first major movie. He makes most of the business decisions. Mitchell has an excellent head for business whereas Nick is the social animal.” And that was putting it mildly.
Kelly looked up as the door opened. It was Nick, and looking none too happy. Evidently the interview had not gone well—which would explain why it had ended so quickly.
“Sorry I had to leave you two alone,” he said, dropping to the love seat beside Kelly. “High school chums, huh? Small world.”
“It can be,” Jack said.
“So have you convinced my pretty wife here that it’s perfectly safe for her and our adorable daughter to go to the premiere tonight?” His tone was much edgier than the words warranted.
“I haven’t come to that conclusion yet myself,” Jack said.
“The whole purpose of hiring you is to insure their safety so that they can attend.”
“I understand that.”
“So can you do it or not?”
“I can keep them safe, but that might require scrapping the big event.”
“I see. So when do you expect to make a definitive decision on that?”
“Within an hour or two.”
“I guess we have no choice but to wait until then. You can let yourself out—Jack, isn’t it.”
“I could, if I were leaving.”
“You don’t have a lot of time to waste sitting around here renewing old times with Kelly.”
Jack stood as if on cue. “I won’t be sitting or chatting. I’ll be conducting the groundwork to insure your wife and daughter’s safety from this suite.”
“I expected you to only be with her when she leaves the hotel.”
“You hired full protection for Kelly and Alex, and that means I’ll be wherever Kelly and Alex are—or very close—24/7.”
“I see. Well if you don’t mind, I’d like a word alone with my wife. Your 24/7 does allow for that, doesn’t it?”
Twenty-four/seven. Her and Jack, and memories of the wildest night of her life. That might not be the best of ideas. But if it took this to insure Alex’s safety, she’d just have to handle it.
Friday, 6:55 p.m.
Nick Warner’s hotel suite
NICK AND HIS ENTOURAGE had left for the theater thirty minutes ago, leaving Jack to wait for the two Warner females, who were still in their bedroom getting ready. He was wearing a rented tux he’d had delivered to the hotel. A good bodyguard fit in with his surroundings.
Nick hadn’t liked Jack’s final decision, but he’d gone along with it. Kelly and Alex would attend the premiere and watch the film from the seats right next to Nick, but there would be no red-carpet arrival.
Security inside the theater was top-notch as reported, but there was no way to fully protect anyone in the hordes of spectators crowding around the entrance. So Jack would escort Kelly and Alex through a back door guarded by a PPS agent. He’d walk them to their seats and then he’d take the one on the aisle right behind Kelly and Alexandra, where he could keep his eye on them every second. They’d make their getaway the second the credits started to roll.
The door to the bedroom opened and Alex danced out, twirling so that she looked like a frothy, spinning top. “Do you like my dress?”
“Wow! You look like a princess.”
“Like Cinderella?”
“Much prettier than Cinderella.”
“But I don’t have glass slippers.”
“No, but you have pretty red ones.”
“They’re shiny, too.”
“Very shiny.”
Alex jumped to the sofa, settling in the white swirl of her skirts. She poked her little legs straight out and gave her shiny shoes a quick brush with her fingertips. “Are you Daddy’s friend or Mommy’s friend?”
“Can’t I be both?”
“Well, my daddy’s friends mostly talk to him, ’cause they’re movie stars. My daddy is, too. He’s very famous.”