“Come back and sit down, Whitney,” he said softly. “We can work this out.”
She ignored him and kept walking, her mind moving as fast as her feet, thoughts coming up, her common sense flinging them aside as quickly as they came.
She was vaguely aware of Alex standing. Heard his boots on the floor. Felt his presence. He stepped into her path. She flashed an angry look up at him. Her non-protector. The man she hardly knew but already had so many expectations of. She should move around him and keep going, but she felt the magnitude of his presence. Imposing. Holding her in place.
He tipped her chin up and forced her to look at him.
She wanted to rebel but gave in and looked at him.
“You could be wrong, you know,” he said, letting his hand drop. “You might simply have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Percy isn’t even here.”
“It’s him,” she said adamantly.
“I’m going to share some information with you that I shouldn’t. I’m not going to give you a name, but Sam and I aren’t here on vacation. We’re tracking a gun runner who we think planned to do a deal here. He’s a very dangerous man. A killer. Maybe his deal went bad. Maybe he’s been double-crossed.”
She stilled. Okay, not at all what she expected to hear. No wonder Alex felt like he needed to protect everyone.
Had she seen this very dangerous man? This gun runner? Maybe served him in the restaurant in their idyllic little resort? Well, no longer idyllic with a felon here, a poor man laying lifeless in the courtyard, and no way out.
A chill raced over her body. “You really think that’s a good possibility?”
“I do,” he said. “But I also don’t want to downplay the possibility of it being Percy. I’ll call our boss, Gage Blackwell. We’ll get the team searching for him. If he’s out there, they’ll find him. What’s Percy’s last name?”
He sounded so confident. She wished she could be, too. “Masters. Percy Masters. I’ll take your help for sure. But if the police haven’t been able to hunt him down, how can—”
“We find him?” he finished for her. “We have sources and skills that they don’t have. And more importantly, we have a team dedicated to finishing the job no matter the cost. We never stop, and we never go back on our word once given. Never.”
His vehemence caused a sudden dawning in her brain. His reluctance to be her bodyguard wasn’t just about helping others. Sure, he planned to do that, but she’d been looking at this from only one point of view. Hers. She realized the magnitude of what he had to do.
He was a man of honor. He’d given his word, and he would keep it. He continued to prove he was honorable as well as capable. And her interest in him grew tenfold. Sure he was ruggedly handsome with a buff body, but it was what was inside the man that was important. He was starting to look like he was the whole package, and she had to cut him some slack. Show him some understanding.
“That’s why you have to handle the investigation,” she said, putting a smile in her voice. “You’re a man of your word.”
“Exactly. I want to help you. I do. The thought of you and the kids alone with this Percy guy nearby?” He clamped a hand on the back of his neck. “That cuts me to the quick. Honestly, it does. But so does the thought of the guests and staff getting hurt because I’m focusing my efforts in one direction.”
She couldn’t fault him for caring about everyone. In fact, she respected him for following his commitments and his compassion for all the people here.
He looked into her eyes, and she saw concern. Kindness. And something else she couldn’t place.
He huffed out a breath, and his gaze searched the room. Gone was his inner calm but his eyes suddenly cleared. “Tell you what. Why don’t I arrange a conference call with my team to discuss this? Putting together the brains of some of the most capable people I’ve ever known might give us a better solution.”
Perfect. He wasn’t giving up on her. On them.
Thank you! Oh, thank you!
“I’d appreciate that and thank you,” she said, doing her best to hide her elation and relief.
Thankfully, he was going to get his team involved in finding a solution. That was perfect, but until then, she was on her own with no one to protect her or the kids.
She turned away before her disappointment slipped out.
He hesitated again. “I can’t guarantee anything, but we’ll see what we can do.”
Percy’s enraged face when he had her by the neck razored into her mind. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. She wanted to cut Alex some slack but she couldn’t let this go. Not yet. Not for the kids. She lifted her head and prayed that when these men and women met, they would find a solution to keep her and the kids alive and safe, and they would do so quickly.
8
Alex escorted Whitney back to her apartment, each step through the brutal cold heaping guilt and disappointment on his head for not being able to come up with a way to protect her niece and nephew. Protect Whitney, too, because though he downplayed the danger while talking to her, he couldn’t in all honesty say that Percy wasn’t the shooter, and she wasn’t the target. She could very well be right, and that scared him more than he wanted to admit.
But he couldn’t abandon everyone else for her. After seeing her safely back, he would return to his suite to finish reviewing the video files until he could get everyone gathered for a call.
“I’ll let you know what the team has to say,” he said at the door. “In the meantime, stay inside and keep your door locked. I know cell service is sketchy right now, but the landlines are still working, so you should be able to get through. Also, I have a satellite phone, so don’t worry.”
“Thanks. We’ll be fine.” She opened the door.
Before she could step inside, Zoey came running across the foyer. She charged past Whitney, slammed into Alex’s leg, and nearly bounced off. Yuki trailed after her, her hair frazzled.
The child cast a sweet smile up at him. “I’m Zoey.”
Her crooked little smile and trusting expression melted his heart into a big puddle, and he didn’t know what to say.
Whitney detached the child and scooped her up. “Sorry if you didn’t want a hug. Zoey has always gravitated toward men and isn’t afraid to let them know how she feels.”
“I’m three.” Zoey held up three chubby fingers.
One look into that face, and Alex could barely stop from pushing into the apartment and proclaiming that he would stay by this little family’s side until the killer was apprehended.
He stayed put and returned her smile. “I’d never turn down a hug.”
She lifted her arms and nearly hurled herself at him, dangling between him and Whitney. He took hold before she fell, and she settled an arm around his neck as if she’d known him for all three of her years.
Whitney gave a wry smile. “As I said. She prefers men. My mom said I was like that as a child, too.”
“Why don’t you come in and warm up?” Yuki suggested. She circled behind him and all but shoved him into the small foyer before securing the door behind him. “Give me your jacket.”
He did as told and caught the scent of fresh-baked bread and a savory smell, too. He spotted a loaf of bread cooling on a wire rack on the counter and a Crock-Pot plugged in nearby, the lid chirping against the crock. His stomach grumbled in appreciation.
Yuki watched him, her eyes narrowed. Why, he didn’t know, but she was proving to be very observant. Maybe she’d seen something regarding the shooting. He would be remiss in his job if he didn’t question her, but not in front of Zoey.
He turned his attention to the living room where Isaiah sat on the sofa, a book on his lap. The boy looked up and ran a cautious gaze over Alex, worry sparking fear in eyes that reminded him of Whitney’s. Isaiah shot a look at her, his gaze seeking comfort.
The kid was afraid. Of him or something else. That was a kick in the gut, and a feeling Alex could totally remember. Isaiah likely hadn
’t even processed his mother’s death, let alone learned to live with it. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Another tragic blow to hit.
Alex knew what that felt like. Totally. He was eleven when his mother took her own life. He wasn’t as young as Isaiah, but still a kid, and the boy’s angst drew Alex like an invisible cord tugging him across the room.
He set Zoey down and nodded at the book as he approached. “Whatcha reading?”
The boy’s eyes flitted from his happy sister to Alex, and he visibly relaxed. “Captain Underpants. The Attack of the Talking Toilets.” A tight grin found his mouth as he flipped it closed to display the fun cover.
Alex had to smile, too. Potty humor. Perfect for a young boy. Alex remembered those days, but maybe not as fondly as most adolescent boys. Living with a mother who suffered from depression, Alex always had to be on his best behavior. How many times had he heard his father say, Don’t upset your mother? Daily at least. And so he’d taken on the job of trying to cheer her up. Everything at home was about improving her mood. Until she took a bottle of pills and never woke up again. Then he had to encourage his dad. His younger sister. His aunt. Everyone in the family. Twenty-three years later, he was still doing it with everyone around him. The joker, the clown—keep things light.
Relating to the kid was going to make it even harder not to give in and provide individual protection for him, Zoey, and Whitney. Alex should turn and walk out that door. Leave the adorable little girl behind. Leave this angst-torn boy before he started to care even more.
He started to turn, to force his feet to move, but he couldn’t go. He just couldn’t. He pasted on the best smile he could muster. “Mind if I look at it with you while I warm up?”
The boy shrugged.
Alex took that as an okay. “My name’s Alex.”
“Isaiah.”
Alex sat on the sofa. “How old are you, Isaiah?”
“Nine. Almost ten.” He lifted his chest at the end.
That saddened Alex even more. Here was a kid who should enjoy being a kid. But his mother’s death and his father’s actions had forced him to grow up way too fast.
Zoey came running across the room, a joy to behold as she moved at light speed. She slammed into the cushion next to Alex, a stubborn look on her face.
“Up,” she demanded and lifted her arms to Alex.
Alex couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. Here was a suffering boy sitting next to him, but this little tyke’s enthusiasm tempered it.
He picked her up. He was comfortable with a young child. His sister was seven years younger than him, and he virtually raised her after their mother died.
“Read,” Zoey said, and before he knew it, he was reading the book to both kids and they were quietly slipping into his heart and settling comfortably in.
When Isaiah turned the page, Alex looked up to find Yuki and Whitney watching them, soft smiles on their faces.
His thoughts jetted back to Whitney’s surprise announcement. Did Yuki know about Percy? Did she figure out Alex had turned Whitney down flat? That getting to know the children and changing his mind was Yuki’s plan when she invited him in?
Zoey shook the book. “Read.”
He turned his attention back to her and finished the story. He needed to get going before he was totally invested in these kids. He set Little Miss Zoey on a cushion and patted Isaiah’s knee before getting up.
“Do you have plans for dinner?” Yuki asked. “There’s hearty stew in the Crock-Pot and it’s ready.”
The smell made his mouth water, but he shouldn’t stay. “I have video files to review, and I should check in with Sam. Then I need to get my team together for a conference call as soon as possible.”
Whitney looked relieved by his response. Of course she did. From the moment they’d met, she’d proved that she didn’t want to be near him, and it hurt that she wanted him to leave. That was precisely the reason he should leave. But maybe her response wasn’t personal. Maybe it was simply because he turned her down earlier.
“You have to eat dinner and those files aren’t going anywhere,” Yuki said. “And Sam has a phone, right?”
He nodded.
“Then call her and invite her, too.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “The signal could be iffy this far from Tomio’s external antennas.”
“I thought SAT phones worked everywhere,” Yuki said.
“They pretty much do, but you can’t get signals inside a building, car, or even a boat. They require an external antenna with at least an eighty percent view of the sky for a good signal. So we’ve been counting on Tomio’s strategically placed antennas.”
Yuki looked offended as she crossed her arms. “Tomio has top-of-the-line equipment installed for emergencies, and I’m sure it will work. Check it.”
He looked at Whitney, whose expression now gave away nothing. Yuki tapped her foot, so he took out his phone and waited for it to connect. It did, and he lost his excuse to take off. Besides, Sam could use a hot home-cooked dinner after her time out in the tent, and he didn’t want to deny her that. He made the call and offered the invite.
“Sounds amazing, but someone should stand watch at the crime scene whenever possible,” she said.
She had a valid point. They still didn’t have others who could guard the tent twenty-four seven to preserve the evidence and maintain chain of custody. The two of them had split the duty for the most part. When they couldn’t man the tent, they secured the zipper with a zip tie that they could see hadn’t been cut. Not ideal, but it was what they had to do.
In this case, though, he could find another way. “You come up and eat, and I’ll stand watch at the tent.”
“No. No.” Yuki forcefully waved her hands. “I will stand guard while you eat.”
“You?” Alex almost laughed.
She lifted her shoulders. “I’m a black belt, and no one is going to get past me.”
Alex opened his mouth to say being a black belt wouldn’t stop a bullet, but the odds of someone busting into the tent with guns blazing was low. Watching the body was more about keeping away any guests who might be adventurous enough to come out in the storm to take a look.
“You hear that, Sam?” he asked.
“Sure, it’s fine with me. In fact, I asked Tomio to work on a schedule of volunteers to stand watch and free us up to investigate.”
He caught Isaiah watching him and gnawing on his lip. Alex needed to cut this conversation off, as he assumed that no one had told the boy about the murder. “We can talk about that after dinner.”
He hung up and felt awkward standing there. He didn’t know if he should sit back down on the couch. At the table. Offer to help. He was never socially awkward, but something about Whitney turned him into an adolescent boy with a serious crush. All gangly and awkward.
“Now.” Yuki shooed him toward the table. “Sit. Enjoy. I will go relieve your Sam.” Yuki shook her head. “Why a girl would want to be called a man’s name I don’t understand.”
She slipped into a black parka that dwarfed her tiny body, kissed Isaiah and Zoey’s heads, then stepped out the door.
Alex felt like a mini-blizzard had just whirled thorough the room, this one warm and comforting. How in the world was he letting this little dynamo of a woman direct his steps like this? He was a grown man. A strong operator. And she was—what?—all of five feet tall and ninety pounds? Sure she was a black belt, but still, he shouldn’t be letting her push him around.
Seriously.
He caught Whitney looking at him, her expression confused, and he felt even more out of place.
“It was nice of Yuki to invite me, but I can go if you’d rather,” he offered.
“No. No. You should have a hot meal. Stay.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, giving her one more chance to back out.
She nodded. “Let me get the table set.”
“I’ll help,” Isaiah volunteered and raced to the kit
chen ahead of Whitney. He stared up at her. “Why does someone have to guard a tent?”
Alex instantly felt bad for not thinking of the young ears that were listening to his conversation with Sam. Especially this boy who was already hurting and vulnerable.
Whitney placed her hand on Isaiah’s shoulder and lowered her voice. “I hoped you didn’t have to know, but a man was shot and killed outside the restaurant.”
Isaiah’s freckled face paled. “Is he? Do we know him?”
Whitney shook her head.
Isaiah let out a long slow breath, deflating like a Christmas lawn blowup, then he went back to the sofa, clearly forgetting all about helping Whitney.
This kid was suffering, and Alex desperately wanted to help him. And he would. Somehow. Some way. He wouldn’t end the conference call tonight until they’d figured out how he could protect this family and the others.
And while he was at it, maybe he could depart to Isaiah a little wisdom he’d learned after his own mother’s tragic death to help the boy cope and move forward.
9
Whitney served the savory stew into bowls, steam rising up and curling into the air while thoughts of dining with Alex filled her mind. She had such mixed feelings about him and didn’t know if she could sit quietly across the small table from him.
She glanced at him under her lashes. After offering to help and she’d given him a pass, he’d taken a seat at the dining table and was staring at his phone. His feet were planted flat on the floor, his posture perfect. His mere presence seemed to fill up the room, and she couldn’t avoid her growing interest in him.
It would’ve been rude to tell him he wasn’t welcome in her home, but oh, she didn’t want him here. He was off limits for her. Every man was. After what happened to Vanessa, there was no way Whitney would risk marriage. Ever. On the surface, Percy was a great guy. Had been a great husband for eleven years. Then bam. Vanessa discovered his dark secrets, and he killed her, proving you could never know anyone, and Whitney wouldn’t put her heart at risk.
She sighed, drawing Alex’s questioning gaze. She didn’t like being caught watching him and jerked her attention back to the stew. She had to stop thinking about him as anything other than their protector. If they could figure out a way for him to help. After dinner and the kids were in bed, she planned to talk to Sam and get her on their side.
Cold Pursuit Page 7