Parker Security Complete Series

by Camilla Blake

  She regarded me coolly, the expression on her face very similar to that of her mother’s the first day I’d gone over to their house. But then she nodded. “Okay,” she said. “I believe you. I just wasn’t expecting anyone to come running back here while I was in the middle of peeing.”

  We walked out of the woods back to the little beach. “But what’s up with that message?” I said. “Is it a joke or something?”

  She retrieved the phone from where I had dropped it. “No,” she said after she looked at the message. “Well, maybe—I don’t know. Not a very funny joke.”

  “Who sent it?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve received a few.”

  “Have you told anyone?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t you think you should maybe tell someone that you’ve been receiving threatening text messages from someone you don’t even know?”

  “Who would I tell? My parents? They’d flip out. They’d put me under house arrest.”

  “There’s probably some way you could trace the call, and at least find out who’s sending it. It must be someone who knows you—right? Because they have your phone number.”

  She slipped the phone back into the pocket on her jersey. “You’re acting like these are all things I haven’t thought of myself already.”

  She seemed strangely nonchalant about the whole thing. “I’m not trying to make a big deal out of nothing,” I said, “but this seems like kind of a big deal.”

  “It’s only a big deal if you make it one. I’m just ignoring the texts. What are they going to do to me?” She smiled, a smile that was bordering on a smirk. “I’ve got you, after all.”

  “I’m not with you all the time.”

  “Yeah, well, the only time I really go out is either with Lauren, my mother, or you. Other than that, I’ve pretty much become a hermit, so I’m not too worried. This is just someone who’s messing around, thinking they’re being funny.”

  “Do you have any enemies?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “It’s a valid question. Obviously someone isn’t happy with you.”

  “It’s not some jilted ex-lover if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “That’s not what I was thinking necessarily. But glad to hear you don’t have any jilted ex-lovers. What about—”

  “Listen.” She came over and stood right in front of me, so close that we were almost touching. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Nothing is going to happen. And I don’t want you to talk about this anymore, especially not with my parents. You might work for my dad, but I am telling you right now, I forbid you to mention this to him. It’s my business. You wouldn’t know a thing about it if you hadn’t been snooping.”

  “I wasn’t snoo—”

  “Just promise me you won’t say anything.”

  We stood there, neither of us saying a word. I didn’t want to make her mad—and, in a way, she was right; I had been snooping. Well, not intentionally, but still. I’d seen something on her phone that I wasn’t supposed to see, and now she wanted me to just forget about it. Something didn’t feel quite right about agreeing to that, though. Wasn’t the whole point of me being here to make sure she stayed safe? Obviously no one else knew about these messages she was getting.

  “Are you going to promise me this, or am I going to have to fire you?” she finally asked.

  “No.” I held my hands up. “You don’t have to fire me. I won’t say anything.”

  She held my gaze for several seconds, looking deeply into my eyes as though she would be able to root out any hint of deception. I was not the sort of person who broke promises, though. If she didn’t want me to say anything about this, then I wouldn’t.

  “You’re just going to forget about all of this. Because you were the one who was snooping on my phone in the first place, which you shouldn’t have been doing.”

  “I wasn’t snooping, I swear.”

  “Well, regardless of what your intention was, I don’t ever recall giving you permission to look at anything on my phone. So you’re just going to forget about this, and not say anything about it again. To anyone. You promise?”

  God, she could be intense. “I promise.”

  “Good,” she said, nodding. She took a step back, then another. “I’m ready to get going.”

  We didn’t talk much for the rest of the ride, and it seemed the mood had definitely shifted. Before that text message had come through, things had been light, laid-back; we’d been having fun. Now I couldn’t stop thinking about that message, and the fact that there were other messages, too. It could’ve been nothing, I told myself. She didn’t seem that bothered by it. Just the other day, I’d gotten a text from a number I didn’t recognize, directing me to this website if I wanted to see “nuden” photos. I was smart enough to know not to text back or to go to the website, but I still almost replied with Yeah, I’d love to see some nudens! But the texts Stella was getting were not about seeing nude pictures—they were actual threats. Or the one that I read was. I had a feeling that, if I asked, she wouldn’t let me see the others.

  Unfortunate consequences await if you continue down this path.

  What path? What did they mean by unfortunate consequences? My mind whirred, spinning like the chainring on my bike. Why wasn’t this a bigger deal to her? Or maybe it was, and she just didn’t want to let me see her scared.

  “Hey,” I said, pedaling a little faster to catch up. “You know, if there’s anything you wanted to talk about—”

  She turned and glared at me. “Talk about? Like what?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Things. If you ever felt like you were in danger or something. Since I am your bodyguard and all. I might be able to do something.”

  “I think what you’re supposed to do is forget that whole thing even happened.”

  “Okay, I will, but can we just talk about it for a second?” The trail was wide enough that I could ride next to her, so I did. “Listen. I won’t keep bringing it up. But... the whole thing is a little weird, right? That you’re getting these texts from someone?”

  “It might be weird, or it’s just some fool who doesn’t have anything better to do.”

  “But you’re not concerned?”

  “People have threatened me before.”

  “They have?”

  “Yeah. It’s not like every day or anything, but I’ve had threats before. There was this one girl I used to race against, and her boyfriend would stalk my Instagram account and totally troll me whenever he got the chance. That was annoying, but it never went anywhere.”

  “I guess it just seems kind of sketchy to me that someone has your phone number and is sending you these messages. Maybe you should change your number?”

  “I’ve had this number for a really long time. I’m not changing it because someone wants to mess around. Would you change your phone number?”

  “Maybe.” I didn’t add that I’d had my number for well over a decade now, but I wasn’t attached to it. It was just a phone number. And if it meant that I’d stop getting threatening text messages, then yeah, the trade-off kind of seemed like a no-brainer.

  “Then maybe you’re a wimp. Maybe you shouldn’t even be working as my bodyguard.”

  I had to laugh at that, though she didn’t laugh and clearly was not amused. “Now you think I’m a wimp?”

  “I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid of some ass who wants to send me stupid text messages. I actually texted them back and asked them who they were, and do you think they responded? No. So I’m not going to take it seriously. They don’t deserve that.”

  “Do you think you have a stalker?”

  “I think anyone who’s been on social media has probably had a stalker at some point. Most of the followers I have on Instagram are people I have never met and never will meet. I should probably just delete my account anyway; I mostly had it as a way to share race and training pictures. And since I’m doing none of that now, it seems kind of pointless. Maybe
I should just disappear.”

  “Don’t do that,” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “Aside from my own selfish reasons of not wanting you to do something like that, it doesn’t really work.”

  “Are you speaking from personal experience?”

  “Sort of. Well, not really. I know someone, though. More like I know someone who knows someone.”

  Stella’s brow furrowed. “You’re making no sense.”

  “There’s this DJ I really liked. Her name’s Isa—ever heard of her?”

  “Yeah, of course. The one that disappeared.” Stella raised her eyebrows. “You know her?”

  “I know her twin sister. She’s dating my co-worker, Jason. They met because Isa disappeared. It’s kind of a long story. Without getting into it all, Isa pulled the old disappearing act, but it didn’t really work because her sister found her. I think the only way that someone could successfully do that is if they completely cut ties with everyone in their life. And even then, they might have someone who would still be looking for them. I bet your parents would do that. I bet your dad would hire someone to find you.”

  “You’re probably right. But it’s something I’ve thought about before.”

  I wondered if she’d really thought about it, like thought of the actual nitty-gritty details. Such as what would she do for money? How would she feel about not necessarily knowing where she was going to sleep every night? These sorts of things had probably never crossed her mind before.

  “I don’t think you should run away,” I said. “But I also don’t think you should just ignore whoever it is that is sending you those texts.”

  She started to pedal faster, pulling ahead of me. “I told you to just forget about that,” she called over her shoulder.

  ***

  When we got back to Stella’s house, Gareth came out right as we pulled up, almost as if he had been watching out the window for us.

  “Hello,” he said primly, eyeing the bikes on the back of the jeep. “Mr. Brookshire has just returned and he’d like to have a word with you, Cole. In his office. I’ll escort you there.”

  Stella and I exchanged a look. I suddenly felt as if I was back in middle school, getting a personal escort down to the principal’s office again. Stella, I knew, was probably wondering whether I was going to keep my promise that I’d made to her back at Round Pond, or if I’d cave.

  “Sure,” I said. “Let me just take the bikes off the car.”

  I moved slowly, as if I could prolong the inevitable. Gareth was silent as he led me through the house, and he didn’t say anything when we reached Ed’s office. He just let his eyes travel over me and then he left, walking silently down the long hallway. I swallowed, and hoped that Ed would not want to shake my hand again, because my palms were all sweaty.

  I went into the office. Ed was not wearing the displeased scowl that the middle school principal always seemed to wear whenever he had to deal with me. Instead, Ed smiled when he saw me and asked me to sit, then asked me if I wanted a drink, which I declined. He asked how I was doing and where Stella and I had gone for a ride. After I finished telling him, he nodded, his smile deepening.

  “That’s great. Stella’s seemed happier,” Ed said. “I haven’t been back that long, but I’ve definitely noticed a difference in her demeanor. And that makes me happy. I know how helpful it is to her just to be back on the bike again. Her mother might not completely understand it, but I do, and I think that even if she never races again, just being able to go out and be on her bike is helpful. Good for the soul. Do you have anything like that, Cole? For yourself?”

  He looked at me intently and I felt like I was under a spotlight, or like I’d just been called out by the teacher who had caught me daydreaming.

  “Uh... well... I’ve never raced bikes, but I’ve always loved riding them. I think I probably feel the same way: that it’s good for my soul.”

  Ed was nodding. “For the longest time, I didn’t think I had something like that, something I could do that wasn’t related to work or family or anything like that. And for quite some time, I was just too busy with work to even be able to think about that sort of thing. But then I realized what my thing was. Do you know what it was?”

  “Um... golf?”

  “No,” he said with a smile. “Unfortunately, I’m not very good at golf. It was just being able to go out and take a walk. Not very exciting, I know. But it was something I liked because it always helped clear my head and I’d probably go out of my mind if I wasn’t able to get a walk in every day. So I can understand what being able to get back on a bike means for Stella. I want her to be able to do that. I just also want her to be safe.” He paused, a slightly uncomfortable look crossing his face. “I’m sure this goes without saying, but you would be candid with me if anything seemed amiss—right?”

  I felt my insides twist a little. Um, how did he know? Had he secretly planted some sort of device on me? Had he been listening in on everything that Stella and I had talked about? I almost told him, right then and there. But right as I opened my mouth to do so, an image of Stella flashed in my mind, her standing there at the pond, making me promise her that I wouldn’t tell anyone. It was true that Ed was the one who was employing me, but it would be far worse to betray Stella.

  “Of course,” I said. “Of course I would tell you.”

  “Good.” Ed took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together. “There are some people out there who aren’t entirely pleased with me. Without getting into all the details.”

  I wanted to ask him what he meant—people who weren’t entirely pleased with him?—but I didn’t. If he wanted to tell me, I figured he would. And for some reason, I had a feeling that whoever it was texting Stella wasn’t someone who had anything to do with her father.

  “I don’t mean to be vague,” he continued. “As I’m sure you can imagine, you don’t get to my place in life without pissing a few people off. I try to be smart about how I handle things. But…” He let his voice trail off. Was I supposed to prod him to elaborate? Did I even want to know? His world was so foreign to mine we might as well have been from different planets. I didn’t know what someone who had billions of dollars did all day, how someone would even go about amassing that much money to begin with. I was a simple guy who couldn’t even remember to balance his checkbook.

  “I’m not exactly sure what you mean, but you seem like a pretty good guy to me,” I said.

  “That’s kind of you to say. I won’t keep you any longer; I just wanted to check in and let you know that I’m pleased with what I’ve seen so far. But you will... you will let me know if anything seems amiss—right?”

  “Yes, of course,” I said, hoping that my face wasn’t turning red or that I wasn’t inadvertently not making eye contact, or giving some other sort of clue that I was not telling him the truth.

  ***

  That night, I went and looked at Stella’s Instagram account. She had almost one million followers, though she hadn’t posted many pictures lately. I scrolled through and looked at some of the photos from her racing days, when she had posted pictures with more frequency. It was hard not to feel a bit of wanderlust as I looked at the photos from all the different exotic locales, all sorts of awesome places to ride bikes. Most of her pictures back then were bike-related, though there were a few where it was her dressed up, going to some sort of function, or a couple out on a yacht, her wearing a bikini and a big floppy straw hat. There were also several of her with that blonde girl I’d seen at the farmers’ market. The two of them dressed to the nines at some rooftop bar. The two of them eating ice cream. The two of them stretched out on lounge chairs on some tropical beach. Stella had a great body, which I knew I shouldn’t be thinking, but how could I not?

  Chapter 12

  Stella

  “Would you like to go play tennis?” Mom asked. She had her tennis outfit on—the short skirt, the white polo, the visor. “I can’t remember the last time we played tennis togeth
er.”

  Probably because I absolutely despised tennis, and I didn’t enjoy going to the country club, two things that were right up there on my mother’s list of favorite ways to spend her time.

  “Cole’s going to be here soon,” I said. “We’re going to go for a ride.”

  “Didn’t you just go riding with him the other day?”

  “I did, and we’re going to go again today.”

  “I had such a nice time with you when we went to the spa. I’d like to do that again.”

  “We can, just not today.”

  “You seem to be seeing an awful lot of Cole.”

  I shot her a look. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  She waved her hand dismissively. “You know what it means. Just remember who he is. He’s an employee. He’s here because we’re paying him, and therefore things need to remain professional between the two of you.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it. I don’t actually remember asking for your input about all of this.”

  “You don’t need to ask for it, Stella. I’m just reminding you. I didn’t think you’d be going out and riding so much.”

  My phone went off, and I looked down at the screen. “Cole’s here,” I said. “Have fun playing tennis.”

  I hurried off before she could say anything else.

  “Let’s just ride around the city,” I said when I let Cole inside. “You can use one of the bikes we have here, if you want. Come on; I’ll show you where they are.”

  Cole followed me through the house to the indoor basketball court, which no one ever actually played basketball on. Instead, it looked more like the showroom floor of a bike shop. I’d never gotten rid of any of my bikes, even the ones that had been damaged or that I’d outgrown. There were also bikes of various sizes for other people to use.

  “Wow,” Cole said, his eyes lighting up like it was Christmas morning. “This is amazing. All these yours?”

  “Most of them.” I pointed to the bike rack underneath one of the basketball hoops. “There will probably be a bike your size over there; I’ll let you pick it out.”