“Then we can assume he wasn’t shooting to kill. But he was trying to make a point,” Travis said.
“Yeah, well, he’s on my bad side. Whatever point he’s trying to make, I’m not interested. It’s time to turn the tables here. He’s taken his last shot at us.”
“Agreed. I’ll handle things from this end. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Travis paused. “Do what Garrett says, Marlene. I know this is all frightening, but he will keep you safe.”
“Okay, thanks, Travis.”
“And one more thing,” Garrett said. “The shooter left a note in the chauffeur’s pocket. I’ll scan it and send it to you, so you can see for yourself. He signed with his initial. See if that sheds light on anything.” Then he ended the call.
“I can’t figure it out,” Garrett said, scooping his phone from the table. “If the guy wants to kill you, then why warn you in a note?”
“It doesn’t make sense.”
Garrett frowned. “So what is he really after?”
Marlene sighed. “I wish I knew.”
“He’s taking risks. Shooting in a public place makes the likelihood of getting caught much greater.” Garrett stood and walked over to the fireplace. He rested his hand on the mantel and put one foot on the stone hearth, staring at the unlit logs. “It’s more than just taking risks…the dude is showing off.”
Garrett turned to look at Marlene. “Shooting out a crystal chandelier is dramatic. It makes a big splash, says look at me. He’s bragging.”
“Why would he do that? What does he want?”
Garrett thought about that for a moment. “I keep coming back to the military…something to do with the military. It’s easy to think of servicemen as fighters. But we’re trained that it’s smarter to run when that’s an option. There’s no need to prove anything. It’s better to avoid conflict whenever possible. If getting away isn’t realistic, the next choice is to outsmart the enemy, and to engage as a last resort. In truth, a military man is often the least anxious for combat, because he knows the consequences all too well.”
“So you think he didn’t shoot to kill? That he just wanted to scare us?”
“Either that,” Garrett said, “or he’s a coward. He won’t come out in the open.”
Marlene pulled a shawl from the back of her chair and wrapped it around her shoulders, shivering even though it wasn’t cold.
“I don’t like involving the police.” Garrett sat down on the sofa again. “The restaurant will give them a list of guests, so you’ll be contacted. It’s another way to get to you, harass you. A public attack means your name in the news again, and police interviews.”
Marlene had a thought. She’d played many types of characters, and was familiar with a variety of personalities. She had an idea. “You know, killers want their crimes in the news. They want to be known and recognized. It’s an ego thing.”
“That’s true. He doesn’t want to execute his deeds quietly. What’s the glory in that?” Garrett stared at the note, as if trying to glean its full implication.
Marlene watched him, wishing the nature of their relationship was different than it was. After what she’d been through, it would make sense to go to her bedroom and hide under her covers. But she didn’t want to leave. She wanted to be with Garrett. What she really wanted was for him to hold her, so she could breathe in his masculine scent and feel his strong arms around her, while he whispered in her ear that everything was going to be okay.
She wanted to run her fingertips through his silky hair, and trace his lips with the tip of her thumb. And then she wanted him to kiss her like he meant it. Still watching Garrett study the note, Marlene resisted the urge to go to him, to sit on his lap and put her arms around his neck. Just to see how he’d react. To find out whether he felt the same way she did.
Marlene’s body heated at the images she couldn’t put aside. Garrett was sexy as hell in the dress pants and suede jacket. His biceps filled the sleeves, the material bulging against his rock-hard muscle, and the shirt buttoned tightly over his wide chest.
There was no doubt that Marlene had a crush on her bodyguard. Maybe it was natural. Under threat, it was probably normal to fall for the guy who rescued you. That was all. Once this was all over, her life would be back to normal and Garrett would move on. This was all temporary, so she shouldn’t let the relationship get too intimate. No matter how much she wanted it right then.
Garrett looked up and their gazes locked. His expression was tender, and just for a moment, Marlene felt like he’d read her mind. He knew what she’d been thinking, what she wanted. The look in his eyes said that he wanted her too. Her heart skipped a beat.
Then it was gone. Garrett leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. When he looked back at her, his expression had changed. He looked at her with concern. “There is something nagging at my gut.”
Marlene held her breath.
“There are reasons I’d be a killer’s target; many enemies who would gladly take me down. But…none of my enemies are in this country. I left them behind, on one mission or another.” Garrett tossed the note onto the table. “He said in the note that he almost killed me yesterday. That next time he won’t miss.”
The thought of Garrett getting killed because of her made Marlene feel a bit ill.
“What if he was at the charity event because of me? I have this sick feeling that the guy might not have been shooting at you at all. What if he was after me, and without realizing it, I led him to you?” Garrett took a deep breath. “Jesus, Marlene, what if I brought all this grief to your doorstep? You just happened to be in the line of fire?”
Marlene shook her head. “No, Garrett. Don’t think that way.”
“I have to,” Garrett said. “I must consider the possibility that I drew the asshole to you, Marlene. He intends to kill me, not you.”
Marlene drew the shawl tighter around her. She didn’t know what to think anymore. In a twisted way, what Garrett said made sense. Fear arrowed into her heart. “Or maybe…he wants to kill both of us.”
Chapter 7
Glenn Buckner walked through the long, narrow army-navy surplus store, his chest swelling with pride. He could have picked up most items to suit his needs online, but he preferred to surround himself with memorabilia. Just like some people enjoyed bookstores for the feel and smell of books, Glenn craved the military environment.
It was where he belonged. Rack after rack was packed with shirts, pants, jackets, and nearly every item a man could need. He’d picked up more than one good pair of boots there, plus an array of ribbons and medals. Such items were often lost by their owners or donated from estate sales.
Surplus was a treasure trove of possessions. Some time back, Glenn had purchased a SEAL Trident pin, a symbol of honor and respect. He deserved both, but the armed forces hadn’t seen fit to treat him properly. Yet he didn’t hold a grudge. The military was his life. He lived and breathed it, even now, when not on active duty.
Glenn stepped over the shiny linoleum floor so silently that the clerk wouldn’t have known he was there if he hadn’t seen him. He scooped a couple of shirts off the rack, and glanced at a floor container filled with rolled-up flags. He had a US flag at home, one he displayed every day of the year in honor of those who served, risking their lives to save others. A group of men Glenn was a part of. Then there were the traitors.
One such man was Garrett Flynn, an ex-SEAL with overinflated ideas of his deeds, and false claims about his record. Oh, Glenn knew, even if Marlene Parks didn’t. But she would find out. Flynn couldn’t keep it secret indefinitely. In fact, Glenn would make sure he didn’t.
It was his responsibility to see that Marlene wasn’t duped by her new bodyguard. That was a laugh. A man who failed to protect was supposed to keep one of America’s most loved stars safe. Glenn was the real hero, the man who was capable of caring for her.
And he would, as soon as he got Garrett out of the way.
He should get home now, though. The drugs were wearin
g off and he needed another fix. He suffered with pain, a burden he accepted, but without a little assistance he couldn’t be expected to make it through the day. The service had screwed him, leaving him to fend for himself.
Well, he had done so. The drugs took the edge off, made the hours tolerable. But as soon as he was with Marlene, he wouldn’t need them anymore. He’d only need her, the one woman meant for him. His purpose in life was to ensure her happiness.
Glenn just hoped she didn’t die in the process.
The clerk glanced at the Marine Corps pin on Glenn’s lapel, and gave him a nod. “Picking up a few more things, huh?”
The store employees rotated shifts, so Glenn hadn’t spoken to this clerk before. “Can’t have too many shirts.” He spoke with courtesy. After all, he was a decorated hero and the masses looked up to him, as well they should.
The clerk handed the bag across the counter, and Glenn left the store. He’d be back. It was a place that he frequented. It made him feel at home.
It was a brisk February day in West Hollywood, and a breeze ruffled the edges of Glenn’s hair under his cap. The walk home wasn’t far. He strode at an even pace, appearing to be a local who belonged there. Anyone observing him would see only a veteran, a man to respect. He didn’t make any sudden moves, and he wasn’t carrying a weapon. It wasn’t needed for such an innocuous outing.
Then a tight smile stretched Glenn’s lips. He remembered the night before at Diamonte’s. It had been so easy to find out where the pair was going to eat. Marlene hadn’t realized how simple it was to hack a cell phone. He didn’t even need a mini cell tower.
It wasn’t only the government or criminals with the technology to listen to calls. Glenn could even read her emails and access her photos. Even when her phone was off, he could access it wirelessly, provided he was close enough.
Too bad he couldn’t have stuck around to see the results of his rifle blast, but he had no trouble imagining. When he’d blown out the base of that chandelier, the crystals must have shattered like so many stars in the sky.
Glenn kept his shoulders straight, without missing a step when he crossed the street on a green light. I’d known they’d be there, he thought. Flynn thinks he’s in control, but I’ll show him how it is. Turning the corner toward home, Glenn regretted that Marlene was likely shaken by the episode, which was unfortunate.
That’s Flynn’s fault. He’s in my way, and I already warned him by nearly blowing his head off at that event. How much clearer could I have been? And now I’ve told Marlene that she might get hurt, unless she dumps her new bodyguard? She’s been warned.
If the woman has any sense, she’ll pay attention to what I say. But then she is uppity, assuming she’s untouchable, thinking she’s above me. She’ll find out.
Glenn reached his front door and unlocked it to go inside. He lived in a small home. The neighborhood was filled with residents who were long-term homeowners. They knew their neighbors, felt secure on their quiet streets. And they welcomed Glenn, a retired Marine Corps captain, although he didn’t use his real name with them.
He couldn’t have some busybody looking into him. His mission was too important, and secrecy was vital. It was no one’s business anyway. It was military business. Glenn was a soldier, first and foremost. That was why he trained hard and planned methodically.
Once inside he locked and bolted the door. Glenn couldn’t be too cautious. A glance around assured him that no intruder had been there. He tossed the bag onto a pile of other similar ones. There it would sit, as he had more pressing matters to attend to.
Stacks of plates with dried food on them littered his coffee table. Glenn shoved them aside and spread out a map. It was time to organize. He ran his finger over the street where Marlene lived, trying to envision what she might be doing at the moment.
Glenn’s head hurt, and he rubbed his temples. The medication. He headed toward the kitchen, kicking aside a stack of magazines and old newspapers, knocking them over onto the stained carpet. The narrow hall was partially blocked with a few bags of trash, and he nearly tripped over one.
After Glenn found the bottle on the counter, he downed a few pills with a gulp of metallic-tasting water. He waited, leaning against the kitchen table, his anxiety gradually lessening. But not nearly enough. Prescription meds had limited use, or maybe he’d stolen the wrong ones this time.
In any case, he had his own remedies for when he needed something stronger. Glenn plopped into a chair, scraping it on the floor. The screech irritated him. Leaning his head back, he looked up at the ceiling then closed his eyes.
Glenn felt marginally better, and a sense of relaxation flowed through his veins as he thought of Marlene. He supported her charities. She should know that. He attended when he could, although she didn’t pay attention to him. But she would.
There had been one time at a crowded fundraiser that Glenn had managed to get close to her. Marlene had worn a perfume with an unforgettable fragrance. Even now, he could smell it as if he was there. She’d been so beautiful and so kind. She deserved a man like Glenn.
Her radiant smile encouraged attendees to donate for her cause, to assist retired soldiers when she asked them to. He loved how she spoke, the tone of her voice, like honey to soothe his wounds. At the bigger events, Marlene had told her personal story. She’d shared losing her own father when she had been a young girl. And then war had, sadly, taken her older brother Andrew.
Glenn seethed with hatred at Flynn, a man who claimed the title SEAL yet had failed to save a young marine, Marlene’s beloved brother. The image of Garrett Flynn filled his mind, making his head ache again. I know all about you and what you did.
But Glenn couldn’t dwell on that now. There would be plenty of time for that.
Marlene was in his mind, the memory as vivid as the moment he’d seen her. Her hand had brushed his, and Glenn had known she felt the electricity just as he had. They were meant for each other, fated to be together. And when she knew what a hero he was, the lovely star would be unable to resist him.
However, that day Marlene had brushed him off. Her treatment of him had been demeaning, and she needed to be more considerate. Glenn had been dressed in military garb, and he’d smiled at her cordially. He’d said something about his support of the fundraiser.
But Marlene had given him a cursory nod, then immediately became engaged in conversation with an injured vet who was there to give support. Hadn’t Marlene realized who he was? Hadn’t she known what she owed him?
But maybe she hadn’t. Marlene needed to be shown. So Glenn had methodically planned out meeting her. As unlikely as an encounter would be at a well-publicized event, it had also been the perfect cover. The fundraiser at the Beverly Hilton had been mobbed with adoring fans, and Glenn had been in the audience waiting for the opportunity to gain Marlene’s attention.
She’d managed to get a host of other celebrities to agree to perform at the event. Marlene was charming, and seemed capable of persuading others to do as she wished. Glenn admired her for that. Although he was one man that needed little encouragement. His sole aim was to be by her side, to take care of her, now that she’d lost her older brother.
It was Glenn’s duty, and he intended to follow through. That day it might have all come to fruition. All his efforts could have paid off. Then he’d spotted Garrett Flynn, who’d had the nerve to show up at the event. Once again, the traitor was going to screw it all up.
Glenn had been enraptured with Marlene. She’d looked like an angel in her white fur coat with her blond hair flowing over her shoulders. He’d gazed into her green eyes, and she’d looked back. But Flynn, damn him, had taken notice of Glenn.
In a moment of blinding rage, Glenn had pulled his gun. If he’d thought it through, he’d have held back. He could have continued to act like he was there to see the famous stars, that he’d been a normal guy like the hundreds of others in attendance. He’d have gone unnoticed.
But Glenn couldn’t be blamed. He�
�d had Flynn in his sights. The man was a nuisance. Always in the way. Without hesitation, like a true soldier, Glenn had gone for his gun, to shoot to kill. But Flynn had leapt over the gold rope and tackled Marlene on the red carpet.
Flynn’s stupid move had nearly gotten her killed. If the bullet had gone awry, his aim had been off just a hair, Glenn might have hit Marlene when aiming at Flynn. That would have been a misfortune.
The scene had unraveled in the blink of an eye. With Marlene’s body pressed to Flynn’s, it had been too risky, and that moment’s hesitation had cost Glenn the opportunity. He was an experienced marksman and could have hit Flynn right in the back. There had been one big problem with that. He’d been using tungsten bullets; they penetrated armor. He hadn’t been willing to chance the bullet going right through Flynn and injuring Marlene.
Glenn hadn’t stuck around to see what happened in the aftermath of the gunshot. He’d disappeared into the crowd and gotten the hell out of there. His bravery knew no limit, and in the emergency situation, he hadn’t been concerned about his own safety. But if anything had happened to Glenn, then who would look after Marlene? Who would she have to turn to?
It certainly wasn’t Flynn, and she’d realize that soon enough. But the man was going to be a problem. After the attempted shooting, the ex-SEAL had hung around. From what Glenn could see, he wasn’t going anywhere soon. And he’d found out that the man had been hired as her bodyguard. What a joke that was.
So he’d warned her by leaving a note with her chauffeur. Exploding the chandelier had just been to get her attention. And to demonstrate that Glenn meant business. The message he’d sent had been clear: get rid of the bodyguard. He hoped Marlene didn’t ignore the implication.
Glenn was deadly serious about his mission. His purpose was now compounded. Now that Flynn was associated with her, it was up to Glenn to get him out of the picture. He’d kill him with no regrets; that would be justice at work. But if there was a way to do it without undue personal risk, getting himself killed in the process, then it was all the better. Glenn needed to be around, so Marlene would be able to rely on him.
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