The Widow's Bodyguard

by Karen Whiddon

  “They’re great,” he reassured her. “Really delicious.”

  “Then eat,” she ordered, gesturing at the bowl full of ground beef. “You forget I know how much fuel your giant body requires.”

  At that, he couldn’t restrain a grin. Her offhand remark was the closest she’d gotten to the Eva he knew since he’d been here.

  He finished the taco meat and shells. Eva talked softly to Liam, smoothing his hair away from his small face. He wondered if she’d try to tell the young boy about his father’s passing and if she did, if the toddler would understand.

  Because he now felt as if his presence might be intrusive, he got up and carried the plates to the sink. The act of rinsing them and stacking them in the dishwasher helped clear his head. Centered once again, he wiped down the counters and stove before resuming his position in the doorway.

  Studiously ignoring him, Eva wiped off Liam’s face and helped him out of the booster. “Bath time,” she sang. “Let’s go get you cleaned up so we have time to read a story after.”

  The two of them disappeared down the hall. He watched them go, glad Eva didn’t simply hand off her son to the nanny and chose instead to mother him herself. That meant the real Eva wasn’t gone forever. She was in there somewhere, and maybe one day he’d see her again.

  Meanwhile, he hoped law enforcement would find her husband’s killer. He wouldn’t feel that she or her son would be safe until they had the shooter in custody.

  Raul had wanted him to try to convince her to go home. While part of Jesse could see the logic in this—the Brothers of Sin would die for her—logically, he wasn’t sure that would be a good idea either. After all, Drew had probably been killed due to the work he did for the club. Money laundering, mostly. Which Jesse knew about since he’d personally handled numerous transactions during his time undercover working for BOS.

  Undercover. Mentally, he pushed the word away, burying it down deep. He couldn’t do what he did as effectively if he allowed himself to remember the truth about who and what he was.

  * * *

  The next morning Eva awoke with a pounding headache. The instant she opened her eyes, she remembered today she had to make arrangements for Drew’s funeral. His parents had been calling and she knew if she let them, they’d take over all the grim planning, but she felt strongly that, at the very least, she owed Drew this. She’d realized shortly after they’d married that she hadn’t loved him, probably at the same time that he’d told her he’d married her for political reasons. A man needed a wife and a family if he wanted to have a prayer of becoming governor. Her father’s connections to the large motorcycle club hadn’t seemed to bother Drew. In fact, since Raul was well respected, he’d considered this an asset.

  They’d slept together exactly once before they were married, just enough for her to be able to make herself believe in the possibility that Liam was Drew’s son, rather than Jesse’s. Truthfully, Drew hadn’t seemed to care; he barely paid the boy any attention. That, more than anything else, broke her heart. Luckily, Liam right now was too young to understand. She’d dreaded trying to explain his father’s detachment once Liam had gotten older.

  Now she wouldn’t have to.

  What a mess. She felt horribly guilty. Even though she knew what had happened to Drew wasn’t her fault, she’d certainly fantasized enough about what her life would be like without him in it. Even though he’d flatly refused her request for a divorce, telling her in no uncertain terms he’d fight for custody of the son he’d never wanted, they’d both known their short marriage was completely over. Dead, not to be revived.

  She’d actually made her peace with it. And even if she’d spent an inordinate amount of time dreaming about what her life could have been like, if Jesse had loved her enough to leave the motorcycle club, she’d been completely unprepared when Drew had announced he’d hired Jesse Wyman to be her bodyguard.

  Had Drew known about their prior relationship? She’d suspected he might, but now she knew the arrangement had been suggested by her father. As a lawyer, Drew had done quite a bit of business with the Brothers of Sin and she suspected most of it was illegal and unethical. Par for the course.

  Which meant her father was up to his old tricks. When she’d been younger, Eva had bought in to her father’s stories about the motorcycle club. Despite their inauspicious name, he’d told her that they’d formed as a symbol of freedom. Their existence, he’d told her, served to help others—those marginalized and overlooked members of society who needed an escape. It had been years before she’d learned the truth. Brothers of Sin worked with the cartels, moving weapons across the border. She suspected drugs also, but her father had been adamantly against that.

  Eva had wanted no part of any of that. She’d asked Jesse to leave with her. He’d refused. Clearly, he’d made his choice.

  Her father had been disappointed and furious when she’d broken things off with Jesse. She’d suspected Raul had envisioned a future where he could retire and she and Jesse would lead the club together.

  Right. Not going to happen. She wanted a better life for her son.

  Her phone rang again. Drew’s parents. She’d felt horrible that they’d learned about their son’s murder on the evening news. She’d been in shock, so much so that it hadn’t occurred to her to call anyone. When one of Drew’s aides had gently asked if there was anyone she should call, only then had she reluctantly dialed their number. The overwhelming relief she’d felt when she’d gone straight to voice mail had made her feel guilty, on top of everything else.

  Despite that, too exhausted to deal with anything else, she let their call go to voice mail. They’d left three messages already. What was one more? She’d phone them back once she’d made all the funeral arrangements. That way, they couldn’t take over. She knew if they did, the ceremony would be the antithesis of Drew.

  While his parents were super religious, Drew had often claimed he had no use for such “nonsense.” And while they’d never actually discussed his wishes regarding a funeral, Eva suspected he’d prefer something elegant and tasteful, as befitted his status as a gubernatorial hopeful. She planned to do her best to give him that. It seemed the least she could do.

  She’d finished feeding Liam his breakfast and had put on his favorite Thomas the Tank Engine movie. Though he’d seen it many times, he sat enraptured, giving her precious time to clean up the kitchen and grab something to eat herself. She brewed a quick cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine would give her enough energy to make it through the rest of this day.

  After gulping down a bowl of cereal, she headed back to the den and stopped short. Jesse had taken a seat beside Liam on the couch. Together, the two watched the movie, Jesse occasionally pointing out things he liked on the screen and Liam appearing to eat up the attention.

  Gazing at them sitting side by side, she couldn’t help but notice what had been in front of her face for years. Liam looked so much like Jesse, she realized what she’d always suspected in her heart.

  Jesse was Liam’s father.

  And he had absolutely no idea.

  The tears caught her off guard. One moment, she was standing there, hip cocked against the doorway, watching the two of them together. The next, her eyes had filled and she broke down. Covering her face with her hands, she let go and wept. She cried for what might have been, for the terrible loss of Drew’s life in such a brutal way. She cried for herself and her son and for Jesse. And most of all, she wept for the way all the beauty she’d once found in life had changed to ashes, dusty and dry and bleak.

  Turning away, she tried to cry silently, a skill she’d perfected in the first months of her marriage. Tears had irritated Drew and made him lash out. Hopefully, the television show would keep Jesse and Liam distracted enough so they wouldn’t notice.

  She went to the kitchen sink, turning on the water and wetting a paper towel, which she used to blot at her face
. When Jesse came up behind her, she froze, hoping if she didn’t move, he’d go away.

  Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, exactly the way he used to. She allowed herself a tiny moment of weakness, so she let him, drawing both comfort and strength from his embrace.

  And then, when desire began to stir low in her belly, she took a deep breath and resolutely moved away.

  He didn’t speak and she didn’t want him to. She needed a moment to pull herself together. It alarmed her how quickly the walls she’d so painstakingly built crumbled. Because of him.

  Staring straight ahead, she kept her head held high as she went to check on her son. Kara had emerged from her room and sat where Jesse had been.

  “I’m going to go out soon,” Eva told the nanny. “First I need to shower and get ready.”

  Kara nodded. “Will you be gone long?”

  “Probably. I’ve got funeral arrangements to make. I have no idea how long something like that takes.” She sounded brisk and businesslike, exactly the way she wanted.

  Once in her room, she closed the door behind her and locked it. So far, she’d given Jesse clear boundaries and he’d followed them. But now that things had changed, she didn’t plan on taking any chances.

  After a steaming-hot shower, she blow-dried and styled her hair. Then she sat at her vanity and expertly applied her makeup, keeping it basic. That done, she chose a simple navy shirtdress and navy flats. After she’d married Drew, he’d overhauled her entire wardrobe, culling everything vivid or bright, telling her those colors made her look cheap.

  Today, navy would be perfect. But someday in the future, she planned to get rid of all the navy, black, gray and beige. Or at the least, buy some red and orange, yellow, green and purple clothing. Someday. Not now.

  One last quick look in the mirror and she was ready. She’d already made a call to Blackenstock Funeral Home, and Jeremy Blackenstock himself would be meeting with her.

  He’d been very solicitous on the phone. Of course, he understood the media attention Drew’s funeral would draw. Not to mention all of Drew’s business colleagues and politicians who would be in attendance. There would even be a few relatives. In addition to his parents, he had an aunt and an uncle, plus three cousins. As far as she knew, that would be it. Drew didn’t have any friends who weren’t tied to him due to business, at least that she knew of.

  The entire scenario made her exhausted before it even began.

  When she emerged from her room, Jesse straightened. He’d taken his usual spot just outside her bedroom door and appeared to have been checking his phone.

  “I’ll drive,” she told him. She knew she needed to be doing something other than being ferried around as a passenger.

  “Okay.” Jesse nodded, his gaze serious. Of course, being true to form, Jesse wore his usual faded jeans, a clean T-shirt and his motorcycle boots. He wouldn’t wear his gang colors since he wouldn’t be on a bike. She kind of missed them. She’d always found him sexy as hell when he wore them. This thought made her blink.

  What on earth was wrong with her? What kind of woman even had such thoughts, on the day she was about to plan her husband’s funeral?

  Resolute, she unlocked her car and slid behind the wheel. A few deep breaths and she had her armor back in place. Jesse got in, taking the passenger seat. She thought about asking him to ride in the back, the way he had before, but then reconsidered. Maybe he felt he could protect her better from the front. Ever since her father had declared that her life was in danger, she’d felt a little paranoid. Only a little, because she suspected part of the reason for such a dramatic declaration was to get her to return home to him and the club. She wouldn’t put it past Raul to have totally made the entire thing up.

  When they pulled up at the funeral home and parked, Jeremy himself opened the ornate double front doors and ushered them inside. His entire demeanor managed to be both subdued and sympathetic. He took them to a small room paneled in oak and asked them to take a seat at the conference table.

  Jesse explained he’d preferred to stand and would wait just outside the doorway. Eyeing him, Eva almost asked him to stay. But realizing the impropriety of such a request, she simply folded her hands on the table and looked down.

  The next two hours passed with excruciating slowness. She signed papers, chose the date the funeral would be held and helped Jeremy write the obituary. For this, she’d done some online searching, using a lot of the background her husband’s people had provided on his website.

  Finally, the time had come to choose the casket. From what she knew of her husband, Drew would prefer something expensive and elegant. When she told Jeremy this, he nodded and took her elbow. Then he walked her past the main showroom, into a smaller and more exclusive one in the back. Here there were only three coffins. They were placed on velvet-covered platforms with strategic lighting designed to showcase their expensive specialness.

  They were all different. One very elegant and subdued. Another modern and high-tech, apparently made of stainless steel or some other kind of polished metal. And the third, sitting above all the others, made of polished mahogany that gleamed.

  Wearily, Eva pointed to the third one. With its dark wood and pewter finishes, she knew it most closely matched Drew’s personality. It would look the best on display for the service.

  “Will you have a minister or preacher?” Jeremy asked next. She had to think about that one for a moment. Drew’s parents had raised him in a super strict church. As an adult, he’d rebelled and refused to attend any church. Only when he’d begun the process of looking into running for governor had he reluctantly selected a church on the advice of his sponsors. He’d chosen something the polar opposite of the kind of church where he’d been raised. A staid and refined Methodist church on the north side of town. She supposed she’d need to contact that church and see about arranging something.

  Once she’d told Jeremy her plans, he nodded. Clearing his throat, he slid an invoice across the table toward her and asked her how she wanted to pay.

  The amount seemed staggering, but then she had no idea what a funeral was supposed to cost. Removing Drew’s checkbook from her purse, she checked the balance in the ledger and then wrote a check for the entire amount.

  “Here you go,” she said, handing him the check. Briefly, she closed her eyes, trying to regain her bearings. The numbness had grown stronger since Drew’s murder. She felt as if she’d retreated into a thick fog.

  A sudden longing to find Jesse and walk into his arms swept through her, shaking her to her core. Where had this come from? Blinking back another threat of sudden tears, she shook her head. Safer, much safer, to retreat back into the soft gray distance where nothing could touch her.

  Standing, she realized Jeremy had left the room. He’d left the door open. Smoothing down her skirt, she swallowed and headed toward the exit.

  “Mrs. Rowson?” Jeremy appeared, his forehead creased in concern. “There seems to be a problem with the check.”

  “A problem?” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t understand.”

  “When we went to electronically run the check, your bank declined it.”

  Stunned, she stared at him. “Why?”

  He swallowed. “It appears there are insufficient funds.”

  “That’s not possible.” Fumbling in her purse, she pulled out Drew’s checkbook and opened it to the ledger. “See?” She pointed. “Here’s the balance. There’s more than enough to cover that check.”

  Though Jeremy kept his tone respectful, his firm reply told her he meant business. “Perhaps you’d like to contact your bank and verify?”

  “Of course.” Hands shaking, she fumbled with her phone, looking up the bank’s number and calling it. Once she had an account representative on the line, she identified herself.

  “Mrs. Rowson, we’re so sorry for your loss,�
� the woman exclaimed. “What can I do to assist you?”

  After taking a deep breath, she asked to check the balance in the checking account, since she was also listed as an account holder in addition to Drew.

  “Certainly. Just one moment.”

  Eva gripped the phone, listening while the bank representative typed in the information. “Let me see here,” the woman said. “I show a balance of one thousand, six hundred and forty-seven dollars and seventy-eight cents.”

  “What?” Eva swallowed, again trying to comprehend. “The checkbook ledger shows seventy-two thousand dollars and change.”

  “That would have been before Mr. Rowson made that withdrawal last Tuesday. Were you not aware of that?”

  “Obviously not.” Eva didn’t bother to keep the bitterness from her voice. “Do you happen to know if he transferred it to another account? Like maybe our savings?”

  “No, ma’am. He asked for it in a cashier’s check, which is how it was given to him. Beyond that, I don’t know.”

  Reeling, Eva managed to thank the woman and end the call. She looked up to find Jeremy eyeing her.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked.

  She wanted to scream her answer, to shout the word no. Instead, she looked down at the floor before holding her hand out for the check. Once Jeremy handed it back to her, she got out one of her credit cards. Hoping Drew hadn’t done something to it—like maxed it out—she passed it to Jeremy. “There’s a mix-up at the bank,” she said. “Since I’ll need time to get it straightened out, go ahead and put everything on this.”

  While she waited for Jeremy to run the charges, she couldn’t help but wonder what other surprises she’d find as the days passed.

  Chapter 3

  From his position waiting for Eva in the funeral home hall, Jesse couldn’t help but overhear the funeral director inform Eva that her check had bounced. He winced at the shock and dismay in her voice. He listened to her end of the conversation with the bank, as well. Clearly, she’d been completely unaware that her husband had emptied the bank accounts before he’d been killed.