Her Bodyguard

by Mallory Kane

  About the time Angela had finished her second cup of coffee, her phone rang again. She looked up at Lucas.

  He shook his head.

  She ignored the ring, but it wasn’t easy. “He’s going to keep calling.”

  “No, he won’t. He’ll give up eventually.”

  “Not before he goes by the apartment to see why I’m not answering. What if he gets worried and calls the police or something?”

  “If I see him going by your apartment, I’ll talk to him.” Lucas stood and reached in his back pocket for his wallet.

  Lou-Lou waved her ample arms. “Uh-uh,” she said. “No. You don’t pay in this kitchen. I know you didn’t forget that.”

  Lucas smiled and inclined his head. “I beg your pardon, Miss Lou-Lou. It was habit—living in the big city, you know.” He bent and kissed her plump cheek.

  “Next time you come in the front door and sit like regular customers, and I’ll have some bread pudding for you.”

  “Miss Lou-Lou, you’re going to ruin my figure.”

  Lou-Lou cackled as they left the kitchen and headed for Lucas’s car. “Okay. When we get back, you can tell me where your books are and I’ll go get them. If Doug shows up, I’ll make sure he understands not to bother you again.”

  The lump that had grown beneath her breastbone began to dissipate. “Really? Do you think that’ll work?”

  He reached around her to open the passenger door. “What do you think?”

  With your arm brushing mine? She couldn’t think at all. She leaned slightly away as she nodded. She believed him. When he was that close to her, she believed every word he said. The lump shrank.

  As he straightened, his gaze zeroed in on the corner of her mouth. He brushed at her lip with his thumb. “Biscuit crumb. You always were a messy eater, Brat.”

  Her tongue flicked out automatically—and encountered his thumb. Their gazes locked, and for a few seconds neither one of them moved. Finally, she looked down, and he took a step backward.

  “Wow,” she said, trying to pretend that whatever had just happened between them hadn’t. “If I’d realized you could take care of Doug that easily, I’d have called you to come and rescue me ages ago.”

  He shook his head and gestured for her to get into the car. His face had lost all traces of amusement. “This isn’t a joke, Ange. Don’t forget that Doug’s not your only problem.” His eyes turned dark.

  “There’s a good chance there’s a man out there whose mission it is to eliminate you.”

  BY THE TIME THEY GOT BACK to Chartres Street, Angela’s phone had rung three more times.

  “He’s going to be there,” she said flatly. “If I ignore his calls, he’ll show up at my door eventually. He’s done it before.”

  Lucas glanced at her sidelong as he squeezed the Cobra into a parking place half a block from his building. He didn’t like the tone her voice was beginning to take when she talked about Ramis.

  He’d heard it before, in women who were victims of domestic abuse or stalking. There was no way his Ange was going to become one of those women. Not on his watch.

  “He might be there, but you won’t,” he reminded her. “I told you. I’ll take care of him.”

  She nodded, but she didn’t seem convinced.

  “Hey.” He touched her hand briefly. “Trust me, okay?” As he got out of the car, his phone rang. It was Dawson.

  “Got something on your boy Ramis,” he said.

  “Already?”

  “You’ll see why. I got Ryker to run his name. Apparently he’s had a couple of restraining orders, one arrest for assault and one attempted suicide. The suicide attempt was less than a year ago and came only two months after the second restraining order.”

  “Damn. Thanks. What happened on the assault?”

  “The woman dropped the charges.”

  “Okay. Later.” He hung up.

  Angela looked at him wide-eyed. “Assault?” she echoed. “Are you talking about Doug? What has he done?”

  “Sounds like he can be dangerous. Here’s what we’re going to do. As soon as Brad’s trial is over and we know you’re safe, I’ll help you move out of that apartment. We’ll find you a new one, somewhere other than the Quarter. I think you ought to move back to Chef Voleur. Get rid of the renter and fix up your parents’ house. One thing you can say for our nosy little hometown, the folks there take care of each other.”

  “Angie!”

  Angela started and gasped.

  Lucas whirled around and saw Doug stalking toward them from across the street.

  “Angie, I’ve been worried sick,” he cried as he got closer. “I was about to break into your apartment.”

  “About to?” Lucas said, maneuvering so that he was between Doug and Angela. He lifted his chin, emphasizing his six-inch height advantage.

  “Who the hell are you? And what was that crack supposed to mean?”

  Doug’s voice rose half an octave. Lucas wasn’t entirely successful in suppressing a sneer. The little jerk was scared of him. Of course, he ought to be.

  “Angie?” Doug turned his attention to her. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”

  “Angela has asked you to leave her alone,” Lucas said quietly.

  “What? No she hasn’t. Angie, is this man bothering you?”

  Lucas laughed. “Hardly. You’re the one bothering her. And I’m going to tell you once, and once only, to stop.”

  Doug huffed. “I don’t know who you are, bud, but Angie and I are together. Tell him Angie.”

  “Doug, please. You’ve got to stop this.”

  Doug sidestepped, trying to get past Lucas to talk directly to Angela, but Lucas moved right along with him.

  Doug backtracked and spread his arms. “Okay, okay.” His seersucker sport coat gaped open and the unmistakable glint of sunlight on blue steel.

  Gun. Lucas reacted quickly and smoothly. He pushed Angela aside and shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, ready for anything. He moved his right hand so he could easily reach his own weapon, which was tucked into his paddle holster at the small of his back, under his jacket.

  “Freeze, Doug,” he said conversationally. He didn’t want to rile the guy any more than he already had.

  “Freeze?” Doug cried. “What are you, a freakin’ cop?” His hands were still spread, as if he were carrying double six-guns in a B western. He wasn’t advancing. That was a good sign—maybe.

  “Take it easy.” Lucas raised his left hand slowly, holding out his keys and his cell phone. “Angela, take these and go inside. Check in with my cousin for me.” He didn’t take his eyes off Doug as he willed her to understand that he wanted her to call the police.

  Doug’s eyes snapped to Angela. His face was pale and he was sweating. Lucas was afraid he was going to panic and draw that gun any second.

  Angela reached out and took the keys. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her ease backward. Good girl.

  “Doug,” he said evenly, trying to keep the man’s attention on him and away from her. “Doug, you and I need to talk.”

  Doug whirled on him. “You! You’re poisoning her mind. You’re scaring her.”

  “No I’m not. You are the one who’s scaring her.” Go, Ange! Get inside!

  “You’re a liar! Angie?” Doug didn’t see her. “Angie!” He staggered backward and fumbled at his side.

  Lucas dove, not daring to take the time to draw his own gun. He aimed for Doug’s knees, hoping to take him down before he got a shot off.

  He didn’t quite make it. A hot streak skimmed down Lucas’s back at the same time as the report cracked in his ears. An immeasurably small fraction of time later he slammed into Doug, who was already stumbling backward. They hit the ground hard, rolling. Doug squealed. The gun went flying. Metal scraped noisily against pavement.

  Lucas forced the roll to continue, jerking Doug along until he managed to maneuver on top of him. Then Lucas did what he’d wanted to do since the first moment he’d realized t
hat the perverted slimeball was stalking Angela.

  He slammed his fist into that pasty, ugly face.

  Just once. Not even enough to hurt him—much. Then he stood and drew his weapon. He nudged Doug in the ribs with the tooled toe of his cowboy boot.

  “On your stomach,” he commanded.

  “Somebody! Help me!” Doug whined. He might have been trying to scream, but he was too out of breath and too scared. “You broke my nose!”

  “Shut up and spread your arms.” Lucas heard sirens. Good. Angela had called them. “Now!”

  “Help! I’m hurt!” Doug cried. “He’s assaulting me!”

  “Spread ’em.”

  A police car roared up, sirens blasting and lights flashing. Two uniformed officers jumped out. Lucas didn’t know the older, shorter cop, but he sure as hell knew the lanky kid who unfolded himself from behind the wheel. He was just a couple of inches shorter than Lucas’s six feet four.

  Lucas holstered his Sig and stood back out of the way so they could cuff Doug. Once they were done, the taller cop leveled a hostile green gaze at him.

  “Ethan,” he said with a nod.

  His younger brother shook his head, frowning. “Lucas. Why am I not surprised? You couldn’t find enough trouble in Dallas? You had to come all the way back to New Orleans just to interrupt my day?”

  “Good to see you too, kid.”

  Ethan’s frown deepened and he nodded toward Doug. “What happened here?”

  Lucas gave him the facts, including Doug’s rap sheet and the information about the camera he’d put in Angela’s bedroom.

  “Angela? Angela Grayson? Brad Harcourt’s kid sister?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Ethan looked at him thoughtfully. “Are you going to tell me how you’re involved in all this?”

  “Sure. But not right now. Dawson’s got the camera and the disks that prove he was stalking her. That alone should be enough to put him away.”

  “Dawson? What’s he doing with them?”

  “Holding them for me,” Lucas said noncommittally. “Then when you add assault with a deadly weapon on a police officer to this lowlife’s charges, he should be gone for a long time. That’ll make Angela happy.”

  “Deadly weapon?” Ethan had been making notes on a PDA, but at Lucas’s words his head snapped up. “Are you hit?”

  Lucas suppressed the urge to arch his right shoulder, where his skin was stinging and he could feel a sticky warmth growing. He wasn’t about to tell his brother he’d taken a bullet. It would add attempted murder to the charges against Doug and bury Lucas in paperwork. “Nah. Not because he didn’t try though. The runt’s runty little gun is over there.”

  Ethan squinted in the direction Lucas indicated. “Not that runty. It’s a Glock 22.

  “What about Angela? Is she okay?

  Lucas nodded. “I sent her inside.”

  “So you don’t have any witnesses?”

  “I don’t. You could talk to the crowd though.”

  Ethan glanced around at the three tourists who’d stopped to see what was going on. Lucas followed his gaze. A little farther down, the magazine shop’s owner peered out his door. Up the street in the other direction at the sidewalk café, a man in a bowling shirt sat drinking a cup of coffee and watching idly, while a waiter stood with a tray of dirty dishes, in no hurry to take them to the kitchen.

  Ethan sniffed audibly. “Yeah. I’m sure I’ll get a lot out of them,” he muttered, then turned to check on his partner.

  The older cop had deposited Doug in the backseat of the police car. He looked at Ethan and nodded.

  “You need to come down and make an official statement,” he said to Lucas. “Follow me to the station in your car.”

  “Listen, kid. I need a few days—”

  “Ah, hell, Luke. Give me a break.”

  “I’m serious. I can tell you this much. Brad called me in to protect Angela. He’s prosecuting Nikolai Picone, a major crime boss in Chicago. The family has threatened Brad, so he and his family are already under an order of protection.”

  “So is this guy—?”

  Lucas shook his head. “Nope. I’d stake my reputation on it.” He ignored Ethan’s raised eyebrow and went on. “He’s just lagniappe—a little something extra. Brad’s worried that Picone may have found out Angela’s his sister and sent someone after her, either to use as leverage to get Brad to throw the case, or to kill her as a warning.”

  The raised eyebrow was joined by its twin as disbelief spread on his younger brother’s face.

  “Hey, call Brad. I’ll give you his number. But I need a few days. I can’t take my eyes or my concentration off her for an instant.”

  Ethan’s jaw flexed and he leveled a gaze at Lucas. “Do you know how much flack I’ll get if I let you off the hook? I’m being considered for detective. I won’t get another chance for at least three years.”

  Lucas blew out a frustrated breath. Damn it. Ethan had played the detective card. Lucas knew how seldom those opportunities came around. He rolled his eyes. Besides, he owned Ethan for running out on him and Harte, years ago. “Fine. But help me out. Don’t make us wait all afternoon.”

  Chapter Seven

  Tony Picone was having a great time watching the scene being played out before him. He’d seen the pale, soft-looking guy who hung around Angela’s apartment, waiting for a chance to run into her.

  From the moment the guy had stopped Grayson and her protector, Tony had known there was going to be trouble. But he’d figured the big man would just beat the other guy to a pulp and leave him in the street.

  He hadn’t counted on the pudgy guy having a gun. Or getting a shot off.

  As soon as Tony had realized what was going to happen, he’d placed a mental bet. A thousand bucks the big man takes him before he gets a shot off.

  He’d have lost.

  Even from his distance, he’d seen the puff of fibers and the instinctive reaction of the big man’s body as the bullet hit his back. He’d dived to clip the smaller guy’s knees but hadn’t gotten completely under the bullet.

  Tony grinned to himself. He probably had a nice flesh wound. It couldn’t be more than that, because it had hardly slowed him down at all. He’d still overpowered his opponent and, to Tony’s delight, smashed him in the face.

  Tony watched as the cops stuffed the shooter into the back of the police car. It looked like the excitement was about over.

  He checked his watch. Five o’clock. He had time to grab some dinner and finish his project before dark.

  Just as he reached for his wallet, his cell phone rang. It was his brother Paulo.

  “Tony? Where are you? Mary says she doesn’t know.”

  “She doesn’t, and what’s with asking my wife about me anyhow?”

  “Papa’s worried, and Mama’s about to have a stroke.”

  Tony fumed. “How come Mama knows I’m not there?”

  “Because Papa wanted us all in court today since we missed the past couple of days. And nobody could find you.”

  Tony didn’t answer.

  “God, Tony, you’re gonna break Mama’s heart. You went to Louisiana didn’t you? Whaddaya think you can do down there?”

  “Shows what you know. That ADA has a half-sister down here. I’m going to take her out. That’ll show Harcourt that his family won’t be safe until he lets Papa go.”

  “You’re chasing the half-sister? By yourself? You gonna put Mama in the hospital worrying about you.”

  “She’s not sick, is she?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Listen, Paulie. I got a plan. You wait and see. Tomorrow Angela Grayson’s death will be all over the news. And I’ll bet you the ADA will make sure Papa gets out.”

  “Whaddaya think you’re gonna do? You never shot nobody in your life.”

  “Remember how I always tried to get you and Milo and Nikki Jr. to try out some of my ideas? Well, just wait and see what I’ve got in store for that ADA’s sister. It’s bette
r than shooting.”

  “Come on, Tony. Don’t tell me you’re trying out one of your complicated ideas. Milo’s gonna snatch one of Harcourt’s kids. When the hired security guards take them to school.”

  “And you talk about my ideas? How’s he planning to get past the armed guards?”

  “There’s about two minutes when the kids stand outside the car, with only one guard. It’s a simple grab-and-go. Takes care of the ADA, and it won’t get Mama’s baby boy killed or put away for the rest of his life.”

  “You don’t think I can do it, do you? Well, just watch. And tell Mama not to worry.” Tony jabbed the Off button, his ears burning in fury. By tomorrow Paulo and Milo and Nikki Jr. would be singing a different tune.

  What Paulo had said about Mama bothered him, though. The last time she was in the hospital, she’d gotten pneumonia and almost died. Tony’s heart pounded with alarm and he fingered his phone, wondering if he should call her.

  But Mama had to learn sometime that Tony was no longer the baby. Hell, he was thirty-six and married, with kids. He loved his mama, but she’d stifled him long enough. She needed to be concentrating on her grandchildren.

  He sucked in a deep breath and drained his water glass. And he needed to be concentrating on his plan.

  He looked at the building where Angela and the big guy were staying, then at the last couple of rubberneckers as they headed down the now-empty street.

  He was pretty sure Angela and her protector wouldn’t go anywhere else today. She’d probably be bandaging his wounds—taking care of him.

  The way he was hovering over her, Tony figured if he hadn’t gotten into her pants yet, it wouldn’t take him long. Especially now. What woman didn’t like taking care of a man’s wounds? Taking care of all his needs. Tony licked his lips and signaled the waiter to bring his bill.

  Yeah, he was sure they’d be busy—all night.

  IT WAS FIVE O’CLOCK BEFORE Ethan and his partner had dispersed the small crowd of curious bystanders that had gathered to see what all the fuss was about and headed off with Doug Ramis in tow, followed by Lucas and Angela in Lucas’s car.