Under Pressure

by Lori Foster

  Leese went more rigid.

  “But it didn’t. They didn’t even chase me that hard. I got to my car and then I wasn’t sure what to do except drive. I was barely on the road when my cell started ringing.”

  “Your stepfather?”

  She nodded. “He told me to come back, that he could explain. He promised we’d work it out. When I refused, he warned me that no one would believe me, that it’d be really stupid for me to start spreading tales about things I knew nothing about.” Tension crept into her neck and shoulders, making her temples throb. “It was so stupid of me, but I told him what I’d heard, that I knew he’d planned to cover up a murder.”

  No one said a word.

  “He laughed at me. Actually laughed.” It had been a sick, almost hysterical sound that escalated Cat’s fear. “He said I misunderstood, that’s all.”

  “Is that possible?” Justice asked.

  God, how she wished. “No.” Best to get it told quickly and have it out of the way. “I said I was going to the police. He stopped laughing real fast and instead told me the police were owned and I’d end up the victim if I ever again said anything that stupid. That’s when I realized Tesh was behind me. When I told Webb that, he literally begged me to pull over, to let Tesh bring me home.” Home. Once, long ago, that’s what it had been to her. Even after she’d moved out, she’d still considered it home.

  Never again.

  “He said if I went to the police, he couldn’t help me. That it’d be out of his hands. But with Tesh so close behind me, I couldn’t think of another option to get away. Then I ran through a red light and Tesh tried to follow.”

  “Tried?” Leese asked.

  “He got T-boned by a van.” She met his gaze. “I slowed down long enough to see the driver of the van get out, then I took off again. Until I saw Tesh this morning, I didn’t know if he’d survived that day or not. So many men had followed me, but none of them were Tesh.”

  “Maybe because he was the most recognizable,” Leese said.

  “Probably.”

  Sahara crossed her legs, her fingernails tapping on the desktop. “I take it you didn’t go to the police after all?”

  “I was closer to my house so I went there first.”

  “Cat,” Leese chastised.

  And yes, she felt like a fool. “It was stupid, I know. But I couldn’t think straight. I wanted to get inside and lock my doors and maybe call someone.”

  “But?”

  “Men were already there, peeking in the windows and trying the door, so I didn’t stop. I called my brother, Holt, but another man answered and before I’d even spoken, he told me I needed to return to Webb. It was like a nightmare.”

  “No one got to you?” Leese asked.

  She shook her head. “I didn’t give anyone a chance. I realized then that if I went anywhere obvious—”

  “Like the police station?” Justice asked.

  “—more men would be waiting for me. I called Webb back and said I wouldn’t talk. I hoped it would buy me some time, but he said there wasn’t anything to talk about. Either I came home, or I was on my own.”

  Those words had felt so final, and so fatal.

  “I told him I’d been on my own for a while. He really did sound apologetic when he reminded me that everyone knew how I’d separated from the family. Past actions, he claimed, had already discredited me, and if I forced his hand, he’d let the whole world know how...unstable I am.”

  “What did he mean?” Sahara asked. “Was there a big blowup when you moved out?”

  “No, nothing like that. I just moved out, as many young people do.” That no one had protested, or seemed to care, still hurt her. “I continued to visit with my family, but I didn’t do any more of the parties, the fund-raisers, the galas. It was never my thing anyway. I’m more comfortable at a McDonald’s talking to the other people in line or instructing my class of nine-year-olds on a project than I ever was at a big fancy party.”

  Sahara said, “I’ve always loved dressing up.”

  “Sure, me too. That part was great. But I’d mess up every time.”

  “How?” Leese asked, and he looked irate about it.

  She rolled one shoulder. “I could never get the hang of the right attire. I’d have a knee-length dress when others wore long, or I’d wear bright colors when others wore pastels. I’d laugh at the wrong things. Or I’d laugh too loud. We’d start dancing and not until it was too late would I realize I was the only one really cutting loose.”

  Justice grinned. “Like to dance, do you?”

  “Yes. But my idea of dancing and their idea were two very different things.” Might as well admit all her flaws and get it out of the way. “I have no sense of direction either. I’d head for the powder room and end up in the kitchen. If I drank even a little bit, I’d get tipsy, which only amplified all the things I did wrong. Worst of all, the small talk never felt small to me. I was always worried about slipping up and saying something inappropriate.” As in dumb. Or embarrassing. She gestured at Leese. “Ask him. He’ll tell you that I speak without thinking.”

  Leese, brows still pinched, said nothing at all.

  Justice grinned.

  Feeling she had to defend herself, she said, “I moved out without fanfare and went about my life. Not mad, just...apart. Only there was gossip. Rich or poor, affluent or mundane, there’s always gossip. Folks said I disappeared because I had a nervous breakdown, or that I was run off because I’m an embarrassment. One old...” She quickly censored herself. “...busybody even claimed I had a medical affliction of the mental sort, only she didn’t put it that nicely. There was speculation on whether or not I was a drug addict, which would explain my weirdness, or if I’d gotten pregnant by a convict...all sorts of idiotic things. My brothers ignored it. Mother was furious so Webb tried to correct it. I honestly didn’t care. In fact, at the time, I thought it was almost funny. Now, though...”

  “It’s a basis,” Leese said. “A way for your stepfather to embellish what was already started. He can go back and rewrite history any way he wants.”

  “Yup. I’m afraid so.” She looked only at Leese, not anyone else. “I know I’m odd.” She shook her head, stopping his objection. “I still haven’t learned the knack of thinking before speaking, or the right things to wear. With my students, it doesn’t matter. I wear smocks and we laugh and we have a good time.”

  “You should always be comfortable,” Sahara said, and with a shrug she added, “Create your own fashion and to hell with others.”

  If only it was that easy. “My mother always said I was too honest. Webb said I was immature. It’s the truth, after moving out, I did what I wanted, when I wanted, without considering ramifications.”

  “Like running?” Justice asked.

  “It wasn’t the easiest choice. Nothing about it has been easy. But Webb and his cronies are powerful men with so much reach, I wasn’t sure who to trust.” And she needed to stop making excuses. Sitting a little straighter, she admitted, “I decided it’d just be best to take off for a while. So I did.”

  “An understandable reaction.” Justice patted her shoulder with his massive paw. “No one blames you.”

  She wasn’t sure about that. Leese watched her, but he didn’t say anything. She should have been stronger, tried harder. I should have found a way.

  “We’re going to work this out,” Sahara said, all but rubbing her hands together. “We won’t let Georgia’s death be swept away.”

  Cat feared it already had been. “What can you do?”

  “What can’t I do?” she replied. “But first things first. We need to keep you safe.”

  “I’ll see to it.” Leese again stood next to her.

  So maybe he didn’t blame her, after all. Didn’t matter, since she blamed herself. But she�
��d hate to lose him as an ally.

  “Yes,” Sahara purred. “I can see that you will. Perhaps you’ll also encourage her to remember that other name?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Cat gulped. His best was probably pretty damned awesome.

  “What can I do?” Justice asked.

  “Nothing,” Sahara told him. “I have a different job coming up for you. You may as well stick with me the rest of the month. I’d like to assess you.”

  He shifted uneasily. “Assess me?”

  “She does it with all the new hires,” Leese assured him.

  “This is my only chance,” Sahara said, “since soon you’ll accompany the client nonstop.”

  “I will?”

  “Yes, you see, a certain actor—very hush-hush—who’ll be playing a part in an upcoming MMA movie wants someone who knows the ropes to be his bodyguard. I sold you as the real deal who could not only advise him and teach him the lingo, the rules and routines, but also be his protection at the same time.”

  Justice blinked at her. “I... Wow.” Then with accusation, he barked at Leese, “This job is nothing like you claimed it’d be.”

  “Complaints?” Leese asked.

  “No.” Somewhat dazed, Justice said, “Hell man, I’m lovin’ it.”

  Sahara regained their attention. “I have an excellent PI who I’ll have look into Georgia’s death.”

  Sharp fear coursed through Cat. “Oh, but—”

  “A girl can’t just go missing without someone noticing, right?”

  “PI?” Leese asked her, a note of mistrust in his tone. “Who?”

  Sahara squeezed his arm. “The same one investigating my brother’s death.”

  All news to Catalina, but Leese seemed to understand, so she figured she’d ask him later. If Leese trusted the man, she would too.

  Except for one problem. “If you start digging, you’ll lead them straight back to me. I’m sure they already have computer people watching for me to pop up anywhere. I haven’t dared send an email or touch my Facebook. When I withdrew what cash I could from my accounts, I immediately took off. I was afraid the withdrawal could somehow lead them to me. I haven’t used my name anywhere, or any of my credit cards. I’ve tried really, really hard to leave no tracks at all.”

  Unconcerned with her panic, Sahara said, “I promise we can be completely discreet. And until we uncover something, you can stay here, perfectly protected.”

  “Here?” Still shaken by the idea of anyone poking around—and possibly leaving her exposed—Cat again took in the posh office. Dark wood, plush furniture, massive television screen and full connecting bath; it had all the amenities except a kitchen. Still, she couldn’t see staying in an office.

  Not for any length of time.

  “Here,” Sahara explained, “in the building. Scott kept a suite but I haven’t used it because...” She tapered off, then whispered, “He was my brother.”

  Catalina faltered. For only a flash she saw the same grief she felt mirrored in Sahara’s eyes. She remembered Leese telling her that the agency was under new management—and then she understood. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Me too.” Sahara let out a breath, then launched back into business. “There are women’s clothes, makeup, lotions... I don’t know. Many things. They belonged to one of Scott’s girlfriends, who also supposedly died. The last girl was as slim as you, but somewhat taller—who isn’t, right? Feel free to use whatever you can.”

  Harking back to the “supposedly died,” Cat wondered what exactly had happened to Sahara’s brother.

  Shaking off the melancholy, Sahara said, “You’ll find the suite quite comfortable and I promise you, the security here is top-notch. You don’t need to worry.”

  She’d worry if she wanted to, and apparently she did because dread churned in her stomach. The questions were piling up, but she’d save them for Leese, after they were alone.

  A tap sounded on her door and Enoch stuck his head in. “I apologize for interrupting, but you might want to take this call.”

  Unhappy with the intrusion, Sahara asked, “Who is it?”

  “Webb Nicholson, and he says it’s urgent.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  NEVER MIND THAT it was inappropriate behavior for a bodyguard—especially with his boss watching—but Leese needed to comfort Catalina, to reassure her. Later, he’d explain to Sahara. One way or another he’d make his boss understand—and if she didn’t, well, then he’d find another job.

  But regardless, he’d see to Catalina’s safety.

  Aware of her unease, Leese stood close behind her, silently reminding her that she wasn’t alone. Like a deer caught in the crosshairs of a hunter’s rifle, she’d gone deathly still the moment Enoch had announced the call. He could almost feel her gearing up to bolt, so he put his hands on her shoulders, and under his palms her muscles eased.

  Amazing that he could have that much influence on her feelings. He didn’t question it; she said she had good instincts and apparently she was right, because no way in hell would he let anyone hurt her. That, he told himself, was his own code of ethics, a protective nature toward women—now more finely honed given how he’d once inadvertently played a role in putting a woman at risk.

  Never again.

  With the phone on speaker so they could all hear, Sahara said smoothly, “Mr. Nicholson, how are you?”

  “I understand you found my daughter.”

  “Me? No.” She twittered a laugh. “I run the company, that’s true. But I’m not in the field, so—”

  Growling, Nicholson said, “Your man found her.”

  “Really?” Pausing for emphasis, she asked, “How do you know?”

  A beat of silence passed. “You know damn good and well that he—”

  “Don’t raise your voice to me.” The words hit like a whip, not loud, but sharp enough to draw blood.

  Stunned silence proved that Nicholson felt the burn.

  Clearly appalled at the way Sahara had just spoken to her stepfather, Cat tipped her head back to look at Leese in query.

  He smiled and used his thumbs to further loosen her taut shoulders. She’d get used to Sahara, eventually.

  “Now,” Sahara said, “if there’s anything else you’d like to say to me, I suggest you calmly say it.”

  “Your services are no longer needed.”

  “Odd.” Sahara tapped one manicured fingertip to her bottom lip. “You already paid so substantially. I do believe it’ll cover things for quite some time. Maybe even for a month or two.”

  “Keep the money, I don’t care about that.”

  “Don’t be silly.” She gave another of her phony, teasing laughs. “We owe you the work. What type of businesswoman would I be if I didn’t fulfill my obligations? And as I recall, you said it was of utmost urgency that we—”

  “I’m firing you,” Webb growled. “Your part is done.”

  Again Cat stiffened. Leese just waited.

  “My part? Well, I’m so sorry you feel that way, Webb.” Sahara softened her tone until it almost sounded pitying. The use of Nicholson’s first name was a clear warning. “But understand, you merely paid. Catalina is our client. The transaction has been made, and we are on the job. At this point, only your daughter can fire us.”

  He sucked in an angry breath, but wary of her earlier warning, he didn’t raise his voice. “Now you listen to me.”

  “Believe me, I’m all ears.”

  “Catalina isn’t thinking clearly. I’m concerned. We’re all concerned. She should be home with her family during this difficult time in her life. We want her home. Once she’s here, she’ll be fine.”

  “I have no doubt whatsoever. After all, family should always support each other in times of need. I promise, if my
agent checks in, I’ll ask him about it and then he can speak with Catalina. Not that I expect to hear from him anytime soon.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I assume, being as good as he is and given your initial concerns and financial investment, he’ll go to ground to ensure her safety.”

  “What are you talking about? He’s not there with you?”

  “Why ever would he be in the offices? I assure you, he’s far from a desk jockey.” Sahara propped her shapely ass on the edge of the desk and crossed her long legs, letting one high heel dangle off the tips of her toes.

  How she walked in those things, especially in the winter weather, Leese had no idea.

  “But...I thought...”

  “Mr. Nicholson, you sound alarmed. If there are new concerns I need to know about, please let me know and I promise to share them with my guy as soon as he checks in.”

  Muffled whispering came through the line, then Nicholson asked, “When do you expect him?”

  “I assume when he feels it’s safe. No idea when that might be.”

  Impatience crept back into his tone. “There’s no damn way you don’t have contact with your men!”

  The smile faded off Sahara’s mouth. Her foot stopped swinging. Slowly, she slid off the desk to stand looking down at the phone. “Body Armor is by far the best agency you will find in the States, possibly in the world.”

  “I never said—”

  Lacerating him with contempt, she cut him off. “I don’t babysit my men because they don’t need it, and further, if they did, you wouldn’t have come to me.”

  After a gruff, “Harrumph,” Nicholson said, “I apologize for losing my—”

  “I understand. You’re rightfully overwrought given your concerns for Catalina. Let me assure you, no one wishing her harm will get anywhere near her. Absolutely no one. You have my word. Now I must go. Have a good evening, Mr. Nicholson.” And with that, she hit a button and ended the call.

  Impressed, Justice applauded.

  “This is awful,” Cat whispered.