Secret Protector

by Ann Voss Peterson

  She might be right. He’d seemed nervous in the parking ramp earlier tonight, but there wasn’t anything overtly threatening about him. Still he had to wonder about a guy who would follow a woman through the deserted downtown streets at night. If he wasn’t trying to intimidate her, then he must be the most insensitive and clueless man on the planet. And that was saying something.

  The bleat of his cell phone interrupted his next thought. He looked down at the display. Devin Kendall. Gray glanced up at the barista. “Thanks.” He grabbed his cappuccino and held the phone to his ear. “Yes?”

  “Jolie just called.” The CEO’s voice sounded curt and authoritative, as always. “They’re getting ready to leave the bridal shop.”

  “Okay. I’m on my way back.” He was about to end the call when Devin spoke again.

  “What did you find out about the creep you said was following my sister tonight?”

  He’d filled Devin in as soon as he’d seen Natalie safely inside the bridal shop. “A first name. Wade. Not much else. He could be just some aspiring Romeo.”

  “In Natalie’s case, that’s reason to worry.”

  Gray was curious about the statement, especially since he’d like to cast himself as that Romeo, but he resisted the urge to ask for the story behind the comment. Everything he knew about Devin Kendall suggested he was an overprotective big brother. Gray doubted he’d be eager to share stories about his sister’s love life, especially with a hired bodyguard. “Don’t worry, I have it under control. I’m heading back to the bridal shop now.”

  “Good. Don’t let her see you this time.”

  “I think I’ve figured out a way to deal with that problem.”

  “Does this have something to do with wanting me to say I’ve hired you on as the new alarm system wunderkind on Kendall’s security team?”

  “That’s part of it.” Gray had decided to tell Devin all of his plan when he’d talked to him the first time. Now he wasn’t sure he wanted to mention the rest in light of Devin’s comments about Natalie and Romeos. At least not yet.

  “Fine. Whatever your plan is, just make sure it works. I don’t want to have to explain why I hired a bodyguard behind her back. She would be less than understanding.” Devin hung up.

  Gray stuffed his phone in his pocket. He had a short hike back to his car. He’d better hurry.

  “I thought that was you.”

  He recognized her voice immediately. How could he not? Her words the day of her husband’s funeral echoed in the back of his mind every night when he closed his eyes and every morning when he opened them. “Sherry.” He turned around.

  Her eyes glinted hard like shards of black glass and on her finger sparkled the ring she’d gotten from Jimbo, the man he always thought of as his brother. “You have a lot of nerve, coming back to St. Louis, Grayson.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. She was probably right. But as out of place as he now felt here, he didn’t feel comfortable anywhere else, either. He couldn’t spend his life running away. “It’s my home, Sherry. Just like it’s yours.”

  “And Jimbo’s.”

  He nodded, his chest aching at the bitter edge in her voice. “Yes. And Jimbo’s,” he said in a quiet voice.

  She blinked as if fighting tears and shook her short, dark hair. “I hear you got yourself a job as a bodyguard. What a laugh. Does your client know that you aren’t the type to lay down his life for anyone?”

  He stood straight as if taking a drill sergeant’s abuse and met her eyes full on. “You’re wrong.”

  “Wrong? No. If I was wrong, Jimbo would be here right now instead of at Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery. I wish I was wrong about you. I wish it every day.”

  The pain aching in her voice stole his breath. “I miss him, too, Sherry.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  He opened his mouth to protest, then shut it without speaking. Whatever he said wouldn’t change how Sherry felt about him, what she thought she knew. He wasn’t sure how she’d found him, but he could tell it wasn’t an accident. She’d come looking for him. And she looked prepared to take a pound of flesh.

  He blew out a breath, and it condensed into a cloud in the cold air. Truth was, he couldn’t blame her. Whatever cruel words she wanted to hurl, he deserved them. He’d said worse to the reflection in his mirror. The bottom line was that one of the best men Gray had ever known had died and Gray hadn’t. And if Jimbo’s wife couldn’t forgive him for that fact, she wasn’t alone.

  Gray couldn’t forgive himself, either. “I’m so sorry, Sherry, but I have to go.”

  “Don’t want to face the truth?”

  He shook his head. He felt for Sherry. And he missed Jimbo, his friend, his brother. If he could change things, he would. But right now, the best thing he could do was steer clear and focus on his job. He had to get back to the bridal shop before Natalie left. He couldn’t change the past, but he could shape the future. His future. His redemption.

  And it all started with keeping Natalie Kendall safe.

  NATALIE WAS RELIEVED when she finally pulled her car through the gate surrounding the Kendall Estate, the iron scrollwork closing securely behind her. It used to be that her aunt and uncle often didn’t bother to close the gate. They just left it open, the quiet upscale neighborhood giving them little reason to worry about security. But with all the trouble the family had been having, that practice had changed.

  She looked up at the traditional gray stone mansion and let out a long, relieved breath. Maybe it was the strange run-in with the guy who’d followed her from the coffee shop, or maybe it was Jolie’s mistrust of Gray, but she could have sworn a car had followed her home from the bridal shop.

  She let her car idle in the driveway and eyed the street through the tall fence. The street was quiet. No headlights. No car creeping past, slowing down to see where she’d turned. Nothing.

  Maybe she was losing her mind.

  She shifted her sports car into gear and continued past the main house where her aunt and uncle lived. She’d grown up in the Kendall mansion, and living inside its walls still made her feel like a child. That was why, after she’d returned from college, she’d moved into the guest cottage in the rear of the estate. It was easier to deal with the memories if she wasn’t living them every day.

  Of course, all that had happened the past two months had brought those memories out, front and center. And even her little house among the gardens couldn’t hide her from them.

  She followed the winding drive past the pool house and rose garden and cove of evergreens until she reached her cottage, nestled among tall oaks. On the verge of shedding their leaves, the trees reached twisted limbs into the night sky. A scene that reminded Natalie far too much of Halloween horrors.

  Or much worse, the real kind.

  She parked in her little garage and let herself into the house. She loved her cottage. With only two bedrooms, one she’d transformed into an art studio, the place was cozy, warm on nights like these, and safe. At least it always had felt that way.

  Now every part of her life felt uneasy.

  She switched on the light and stepped into the kitchen. The window over the sink stared at her like an unblinking eye. She pulled the blinds, crossed her arms over her chest and tried to rub warmth through the jacket sleeves.

  She was being ridiculous, freaking herself out this way. And over nothing. Sleep. That’s what she needed. A good night’s sleep and the morning light would make the world look much different. Tomorrow she would be able to put everything back into perspective. The man who’d followed her…Gray…Jolie’s nerves…she just needed sleep.

  She passed through the dinette and the living area, turned down the hall to the bedrooms and shivered, despite herself. A draft seemed to be moving in this part of the little house. She switched on the hall light. The flow of air seemed to be coming from her studio. Strange. And the door stood open.

  A door she always kept locked.

  Her heartbeat launched
into double time. She reached out a hand and pushed the door open farther. Curling her arm around the doorjamb, she felt for the light switch and flicked it on.

  At first she wasn’t sure what she was seeing. Shreds of canvas hung from her work easel. Red paint pooled on the floor. The glow of the moon sparkled on shattered glass.

  A gasp caught in her throat, and she turned to run.

  Chapter Four

  “Here you go, dear.” Angela Kendall pushed a mug of tea into Natalie’s hands, plopped down on the kitchen chair next to her and studied her niece with concerned brown eyes. “It will calm you, make you feel better.”

  Natalie wrapped both palms around the hot mug, grateful to have something to hold on to that would help to steady her shaking hands. The scent of chamomile wafted toward her. The tea her aunt pulled out to soothe any trauma Natalie faced, from her love life woes to the nightmares she’d had since she was six.

  Natalie hated chamomile tea.

  Aunt Angela leaned toward her, the kitchen light glinting off the few strands of gray that threaded her brown hair. “Is the tea all right, honey?”

  “It’s great.” Natalie gave her aunt what she hoped was a grateful smile and dutifully lifted the tea to her lips. She took a sip of the dreadful brew and then returned the cup to the table. “Thank you.”

  Angela gave her a smile and ran her hand over Natalie’s arm in a comforting caress. When Natalie had burst into the main house in a panic after finding the broken window and slashed paintings in her cottage, her aunt had been wearing her bright pink bathrobe and matching pajamas, ready for bed. Somewhere between soothing Natalie, alerting Uncle Craig and brewing tea, she’d changed into an orange sweater and jeans, combed her hair smooth and dashed on a bit of mascara and tinted lip balm.

  The woman was nothing short of amazing.

  Natalie was lucky to have her, back when she was six and her aunt and uncle had taken in orphaned Natalie and her three older brothers as their own and now. But as much as she appreciated her aunt’s nurturing, this much coddling made Natalie feel as if she was once again a weak, traumatized little girl.

  Uncle Craig walked back into the kitchen before Aunt Angela had a chance to urge Natalie to take another sip. “Ash is bringing a couple of patrol officers with him.”

  So now the whole St. Louis Police Department was going to get involved? Natalie supposed it made sense, but she still felt like hiding her face. “I’m sorry for all this.”

  “Sorry? Why should you be sorry?” Uncle Craig’s eyes flashed blue fire. “You didn’t break into your own cottage and vandalize it. The person who did this, that’s who should be sorry.”

  “That’s right, dear,” Aunt Angela chimed in. “How long before Ash gets here?”

  “He was getting into the car when I hung up.”

  The grandfather clock down the hall chimed loud and slow.

  Natalie glanced around the kitchen. The room was immaculate, as usual. Beautiful cabinets, gleaming countertops, and just the right decorating touches. Yet nothing was stuffy or showy. She didn’t remember much about the house when her parents lived here, but since her aunt and uncle had moved in to take care of Natalie and her brothers, the house had felt like Angela. Warm, well cared for, welcoming.

  She choked down another sip of tea for her aunt’s sake. She hated being so needy, so clingy. She wanted to feel strong for once in her life, confident that she could stand on her own feet. That she could love as an equal and have that love returned. She wanted to forget that night twenty years ago. That night that chewed at the back of her mind.

  Before she knew it, Ash was striding into the kitchen. He wore jeans and a simple shirt. A leather jacket spanned his broad shoulders and muscular chest. With his light brown hair, glinting green eyes and confident swagger, it was no wonder he had been known as the Casanova of the St. Louis PD. That is, until he fell hard for Rachel and their unborn child and realized all he really wanted was to settle down.

  He immediately crossed to Natalie. “You okay?”

  The concern in his voice made her throat feel thick. She managed a nod.

  “Uncle Craig said someone broke into the cottage?”

  “That’s right,” Craig answered.

  Natalie forced her voice to function and filled her brother in on how she’d sensed the draft and found her studio door open and the window shattered.

  “Did you notice if anything was missing?” he asked when she’d finished.

  “I don’t know. I ran out.” She had. Like a scared little girl.

  “You did the right thing. There’s always a chance the intruder could have still been there. When the squad car gets here, I’ll go out and take a look around.”

  Her throat closed. The paintings. She hadn’t even thought about the fact that her brother and his fellow officers would need to investigate. And when they did, they’d see the shreds of her canvases littering the floor.

  Would Ash realize what the images were? Was she ready for him to see what she’d been painting?

  “Is that okay?” He narrowed his green eyes.

  She forced a nod.

  “What’s wrong?”

  The disadvantage of having a cop for a brother. He could sense when she wasn’t being totally up front. “Nothing. I’m just a little shaken.”

  “You can stay here tonight, honey. In fact, you can move back in. We’d love to have you. You know that.”

  She gave her aunt her best attempt at a smile. Her aunt and uncle were the only parents she’d ever really known. Sure she had images of her mother and father. But she’d only been six when they died. And the images she had of them were all mixed up with memories of the Christmas morning she’d awakened, excited about seeing what Santa brought her, and instead had discovered her parents’ murdered bodies.

  “A squad car just pulled into the drive. Oh, here comes Devin, too.”

  Natalie almost groaned. With her aunt and uncle, Ash and Devin all hovering over her, all she was missing was her third brother, Thad. Of course, she was sure he’d be here, too, if he wasn’t on assignment as a photojournalist in some remote locale. He probably hadn’t even heard about all that had happened in St. Louis the past couple of months. They’d tried to reach him to tell him their parents’ murderer had been exonerated, but hadn’t been able to find him. Devin had left a message with a woman at the news network, but they hadn’t heard a word since.

  Another concern to add to the rest.

  “We’ll handle this. You don’t worry.” Ash gave her a quick hug and headed for the door.

  To her studio…

  “Ash, wait. Can I talk to you?” She had to prepare him for what he would find.

  He turned around and paused, as if he expected her to start talking right there in front of her aunt and uncle.

  “In the study?” She tried not to notice the slightly hurt expression from her aunt.

  Ash motioned for her to lead the way. Once he shut the door behind them, he turned to her with a spill-it-all look he’d mastered long before he’d become a cop.

  Natalie’s throat felt dry as sawdust. “The paintings in my studio…I just wanted to warn you…” She tried to swallow.

  “Your nightmares?”

  She nodded.

  “I should have known they’d come back after all that’s happened the past two months. You should have told me.”

  “It’s not so bad. Not as long as I paint them, to get them out of my head.” She hadn’t told him to elicit his concern. God knew, she had plenty of that. “The paintings were slashed. I wasn’t in the house long, but I didn’t notice anything else damaged.”

  “Just those paintings…”

  “Do you think it means anything?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. I’ll take a look around.”

  He hadn’t answered her question, but that was as good as an answer with Ash. If he could have told her this had nothing to do with their parents’ murders, he would have.

  “Don’t worry. You’re
safe now. Go upstairs. I’m sure Aunt Angela has your old room ready for you. Get some sleep and we’ll get to the bottom of this. It will be all over before you know it, and the situation will be back to normal.”

  She pressed her lips together. Not a smile but as close as she could get. Even though she knew he was right, that she was safe, she couldn’t help feeling this mess wasn’t over.

  No, she suspected it was just beginning.

  “SO NEEDLESS TO SAY, I didn’t sleep much.”

  Gray leaned his elbows on the too-small café table and tried his best to seem shocked by Natalie’s story. Of course, he’d followed her to the cottage from the bridal shop last night just as he followed her home every night. He’d been just about to go home himself and get some sleep when he’d seen her bolt from her cottage and dash to the main house where her aunt and uncle lived. It hadn’t taken long for Devin to call him on his cell and demand answers Gray didn’t have. Minutes after that, Natalie’s cop brother, Ash, had squealed into the drive, eventually followed by a squad car and Devin himself.

  It had been a long night for all of them.

  “I’m sorry for laying this on you.”

  “What do you mean? I had to drag it out of you.” He had. And he felt bad about it. But since he knew the events of the night before, he was afraid he’d slip up unless he convinced her to tell him herself. This way, he didn’t have to keep as many details straight. And he had a seemingly legitimate reason to worry about her and insist he stay close.

  The waitress swooped in on their table, deposited the check and two cups of coffee and removed the remnants of their lunch, panang chicken for her, pad see ew for him. It had been a stellar lunch, great Thai food and even better company. The time had gone far too fast. Gray could see making lunch with Natalie a daily ritual. The only thing that could make it better would be not having to worry about keeping his cover story intact. “Did you stay the night at your parents’ house?”

  “Aunt and uncle. Although they raised us. Especially me.”