“I thought we were, and I’m sorry as hell if you can’t see beyond your position as queen of the universe.”
Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, hell.” He rubbed his forehead. He was so damn tired. “I didn’t mean that. Most people think of me as easygoing and that’s generally true, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a temper. My family would tell you that it doesn’t make an appearance often, but when it does, it’s evil. I’m really sorry about that.”
She subsided. “It’s okay. I know I sound paranoid and probably whiny when I have no right to complain, given all my blessings, but…” She sighed. “It’s just…I try to believe the best of people, to remember where I’m from and the world view I was brought up with. But sometimes I get fooled, like the assistant who took some of my lingerie and sold it on the internet.”
He couldn’t help a bark of laughter.
Her expression was rueful. “I know. It sounds absurd, doesn’t it? But would she have done that to a friend? She never even thought of me as a real person who could be embarrassed. It hurts when I think people like me for me, not the celebrity. And boy, doesn’t that just make you want to puke, hearing me complain when many people have it so much worse in life?”
“You had every right to feel embarrassed and hurt.”
She sighed. “I try really hard not to get out of touch, to remember what’s real, but…” She lifted her gaze to his. “I’m the one who needs to say I’m sorry. Let’s try this again.”
She took a deep breath. “I had a lovely time today, and I’m grateful you would take time out of what is no doubt a busy schedule to squire me around, especially after how I behaved last night. If, after you leave and have a chance to think about it, you decide you’re up for more punishment—” Here she smiled wryly “—at the hands of a woman who clearly has issues.” She shook her head and gave a self-conscious laugh. “Then yes, please call me tomorrow, should you find yourself with time to spare. But don’t do it for Vanessa, okay? I’ll make sure she takes you off the hook. And I will absolutely understand if you aren’t available.” Then she flashed a genuine grin that made him like her even more. “Or interested, for that matter. I do get that I’m not without my negatives.”
Damn it. He couldn’t afford to like her.
But what man could turn down a woman like that?
“It’s a deal. Any particular time better for me to call than another?”
“Not really. I mean, I have an old friend who sometimes comes by in the mornings, but I can still take your call. Make it convenient for yourself.”
An old friend who sometimes comes by in the mornings. Holly Patterson would know Lowe’s pattern already, but having this discussion with Annabelle would help him steer clear of any chance of crossing paths with Lowe and getting on his radar before Sean was ready.
“Will do. Now, madam, much as parting is sweet sorrow…”
“You’re not the one on vacation. Got it.”
He proffered an elbow. “Your chariot awaits, my queen.”
“Why, thank you, kindly knight.” She took his arm with a quick curtsy.
Oh, damn. He really did not want to like her this much.
Chapter Seven
Annabelle awoke early but didn’t remain in bed long. Unlike too many of the mornings since she’d arrived, she was no longer drained by an exhaustion that seemed to go bone-deep. Instead, she was energized and ready to greet the day. This was more like her normal state. She’d never become blasé over the fame and success that had come her way. It was her basic nature to be energetic and enthusiastic about life, and she’d certainly been raised that way.
The day held new promise, and she knew who to thank.
One very hot not-bodyguard.
Easy, girl. But she grinned widely at the though of Sean Fitzgerald, all gorgeous six feet of him. Yes, as she’d told him, she was surrounded by handsome men so often that she dismissed them, and yes, he was as good-looking as any of them—but to her delight, she’d learned that he was not simply playing the charm game…he was the real deal.
Mostly because he was so much fun.
Sure, he was smooth and clever, but prolonged exposure to him the day before had taught her that she’d gotten him all wrong at the party. His smooth ways were genuine; he was thoughtful and kind. Okay, yes, and full of mischief. Quick to smile and intelligent, to boot. She couldn’t recall when she’d last had a more fun day. He’d given her an extraordinary gift by simply being himself and allowing her to do so. He didn’t curry her favor, and he was secure enough to argue with her over the bill for dinner but also to accept her need to pay it.
Yes, they’d had an awkward moment or two, especially there at the end, but that was more her fault than his. She really thought she could trust him. Even if Vanessa hadn’t recommended him and the lovely Sullivan clan hadn’t taken him to its bosom so heartily, she just had this strong sense of who he was.
Her family would like him. He would fit right in.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. None of that is-he-the-one thinking.
There was nothing wrong, though, with getting involved with an interesting and—oh yeah baby—sexy man. He liked her, too, and that certainly soothed some of the ragged edges of her heart. Maybe her dream wasn’t dead, if such a decent and honorable man found her appealing when she wasn’t in star mode. She’d been herself, the Annabelle Quinn who’d grown up in Tennessee.
She rolled out her yoga mat on the lovely balcony that faced the lake where, until last night, she’d had no idea a whole colony of bats lived. She could have been watching them every evening instead of sleeping her life away or burying her nose in a book or having a pity party.
But in truth, she wouldn’t have traded anything for experiencing them for the first time, up close and personal.
And, okay…with Sean.
She hoped he’d call. Which made her smile at herself because in that moment she could hear herself as a girl, sighing over some jock. It was the modern age, and she could call him if she wanted him, or she could have any number of men available to squire her around.
But she wanted the one with the long-lashed eyes that could be sparkling silver or storm-cloud gray.
Oh, girlfriend, you have the beginnings of what sounds suspiciously like a crush.
So what? A good crush got your blood pumping. Annabelle smiled and began her stretches to greet this glorious day.
Sean was late to the task force meeting the next morning. When he entered the conference room, Doc nodded at him with one arched eyebrow as Sean took his seat, but he never stopped the briefing.
Sean didn’t make a habit of being late—no one did. Doc commanded too much respect for that. But after he’d left Annabelle and then spent hours combing the area in and around Danger Zone looking for the mysterious Candy to no avail, the accumulated miles on his feet should have made him tired enough to fall into bed and crash for the night.
No such luck. He’d tossed and turned until two hours before the alarm was set to go off. Candy and her warning about women about to be moved who knew where were partially responsible.
But so was Annabelle Quinn.
“Sean?”
He jerked to attention. “Huh?” His colleagues all had turned toward him with expectant looks on their faces.
“Anything to report?” Doc asked with barely-concealed irritation.
He scrubbed one hand over his face. Pay attention, dumbass. “Yeah. I do.” He glanced around. “I know who Lowe’s been visiting.” He shot a look at Saint. “Did you already tell them?”
Saint shook his head. “You made the contact.” His eyes gleamed with humor at the literal interpretation of making contact at the party. “Thought I’d leave that for you.”
“Who is it?” Holly Patterson asked.
“Annabelle Quinn.”
Silence, then an explosion.
“Annabelle Quinn?”
“The Annabelle Quinn?”
“America’s Sweethea
rt is in Austin?”
He nodded. “Saint and I both met her at a party.”
“Yeah,” Saint drawled. “But Sean made a much bigger impression.”
“Bite me,” Sean snapped.
“Romeo and America’s Sweetheart,” Bob mused. “It figures. You have the devil’s own luck with women.”
Saint snickered. “You gonna tell them or shall I?”
Sean shot him a glare.
“Clock’s ticking, people,” Doc reminded.
“Okay, we were there for Jilly Sullivan’s birthday party, and I ran into Annabelle. Literally,” Sean said.
Some wide eyes and chuckles.
“Yeah,” Sean sighed. “Not my best work. Had to grab her to keep her from falling to the ground.”
Two whistles. One catcall. “Go, Romeo!”
Sean shrugged it off. When you dealt with the darkness so often, humor was to be savored wherever you found it. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. She was nice about it, but she also left the party not long after.”
“Lover Boy strikes out. Never thought I’d see the day,” said Bob.
“What’s she doing in Austin?” Trini queried.
“What’s she doing with Martin Lowe, is the question?” interjected Doc. “Guess that wholesome reputation is unwarranted.”
Sean couldn’t help racing to her defense. “I disagree.”
Doc lifted an eyebrow.
Sean looked at Saint. “Everyone there really liked her.”
“They did,” Saint answered. “She wasn’t a prima donna at all. She played horseshoes with Hal Sullivan, sat on the ground and rolled a ball with one of the babies. She was very normal.” He tipped his head. “Unbelievably beautiful, of course, but she seemed genuine.”
“So why is Lowe visiting her?” Doc asked. “What’s the connection?”
“Liam said they knew each other in L.A.,” Saint commented. “Lowe invited her to visit.”
“Why?”
Sean spoke up. “She’s had a rough time out there with the breakup of her marriage. The press has been brutal. So she came here to hide out.”
“How do you know all that? I thought you ran her off,” noted Bob.
“I got a second chance.”
Now even Saint snapped to attention. “Meaning?”
“I’m still not sure how Vanessa talked me into it, or how she convinced Annabelle to go along, but you’re looking at Annabelle Quinn’s new bodyguard.”
Mack Lawrence whistled through his teeth.
“You go, Romeo,” said Trini.
“You lucky sonofabitch,” remarked Bob. “Your streak is intact.”
Sean squirmed mentally. “It’s not like that. She just had a scare when she finally emerged and went out on her own. She has security in L.A., but she’d been promised she wouldn’t run into problems in Austin, and she’d rather not have a shadow. I told her I’m not a trained bodyguard, but she doesn’t really want that, anyway. I just pick places where she won’t stand out and run interference, that sort of thing. I’m mostly acting as a companion so she can safely get out and see the sights.” If only he could keep reminding himself of that and forget the charged atmosphere building between them.
“So what’s the connection with Lowe?”
“Don’t know yet. I can’t rush it.”
“She know you’re a cop?”
“Yeah. The family would have no reason to hide that fact, and Vanessa surely told her why she thought I’d be qualified to help. I told her I only teach at the Academy, though, so if she mentions me to Lowe, it would sound like I’m no threat.”
“We need to know about him, Sean. ASAP.”
“I understand, Doc, but this woman has been through a lot.”
“Not compared to our vics.”
Sean rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I know that, too.” He glanced up. “After I left Annabelle last night, I cruised the area, looking for Candy, but not a trace of her. Anybody hearing talk about that shipment she mentioned?”
“Not talk,” Mack said, “but some movement at a warehouse owned under a dummy corporation. Lowe’s a partner in it.”
“One of our guys in Houston got word of a new shipment coming in, too,” offered Holly.
“I need something to get a warrant for a wiretap on Lowe,” Doc said, his look at Sean pointed.
“I really don’t think she’s involved, Doc.”
“And what’s your evidence?”
They all had to trust their instincts often, but instinct didn’t get warrants or impress the DA. “I have an opening I can exploit to see her today,” Sean said.
“Good. First, you meet with APD’s sketch artist and get us a face for the Turkish girl. Then you keep your focus on Ms. Quinn, and we’ll have other eyes on the area around Danger Zone. Holly, what do you have to report on the surveillance of Lowe?”
Around the table Doc went, and minutes later they were all dismissed.
Sean rose to go.
“Sean, a minute, please,” Doc said.
Sean halted. Turned. “What’s up?”
Doc studied him for a minute. “You look like hell. You’re pushing yourself too hard.”
“I thought you wanted me pushing harder on Annabelle.”
“I’m not talking about her. I’m speaking in general terms. You’ve been on VICTAF longer than anyone but Bob and me. Too long? I wonder.”
Sean stiffened. “If you don’t think I can do my job…”
“Son, if I thought that, you’d already be gone,” Doc said gently. “You’ve done one hell of a job here, but I’m realizing I’ve asked a lot of you. No one has spent more time undercover, and we all know too much of that is a soul-draining experience. You’re damn good at it, but everyone has a limit.”
“You thinking of pulling me, Doc? I’m okay, I promise.” He had to pursue these bastards and take them down. Had to find justice for the victims who robbed him of sleep.
“Sean, I’ve been in law enforcement as long as you’ve been alive. I know what burnout looks like, and I’m looking at it.”
“Those women and children who died an ugly death last week don’t care much about my tender feelings.”
“Unfortunately, there will always be victims and bad guys.”
Didn’t he know it? The world seemed to hold an endless supply.
“We can’t fix everything, Sean, much as that motivates all of us here. But we can’t fix anything at all by burning the candle at both ends. I want you to focus on Annabelle Quinn and stop making up your own surveillance activities. I want you getting three square meals a day and a full night’s sleep every night you possibly can. Things are coming to a head, and you can’t run on adrenaline forever.”
“I’m not—”
“Son, don’t try to con me. I’ve been there. We can’t lock all the bad guys away and we can’t keep all the victims safe, but we damn sure increase our odds if we’re in peak shape ourselves. Youth will cover a multitude of abuses to the body, but even you, Mr. Fitness, are not invulnerable. So don’t give me any crap, just say yes, sir and do it.” There was a fond smile in Doc’s eyes.
Sean sighed. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now get the hell out of my hair, what I have left of it.”
“Don’t take me off VICTAF, Doc.” Sean couldn’t leave without that being settled. He couldn’t go back on patrol or return to the detective squad. What the hell would he do with himself?
“No one else has ever stayed this long, Sean. The strength of the concept lies in rotation.” He shook his head. “But don’t worry about that right now. We’ll figure it all out once we’ve punched a hole in this pipeline.”
Sean wanted to stay and argue his case, but he knew Doc too well to believe that would make any difference…never mind that he’d been wondering lately himself about how much longer he wanted to do this work.
But he wasn’t suited to anything else. VICTAF fit him like a glove. It was only that he was tired right now, Doc was right about that.
Since
there was nothing he could do right now to resolve the situation, he focused on what he could impact. He’d call Annabelle and make plans for later, then head to APD and the sketch artist.
“You look different this morning,” Martin said. “Sleep well?”
“I did,” Annabelle responded. That wasn’t the real reason she was lighter of heart, of course, but she wasn’t ready to tell Martin about Sean. He’d only worry about her and insist on meeting Sean so he could be all big brother about it. He’d earned the right, though, over years of watching out for her and being the most real person in her life, the one she trusted most after her family.
But he’d also feel bad that he wasn’t the one introducing her to Austin and standing guard over her. He was under enough strain without her making things worse. He was faithful about visiting, busy or not, and taking the time to search for treats to brighten her day took even more time she had the sense he couldn’t spare.
So she turned the tables. “You, on the other hand, look terrible. Is there anything I can do?”
His expression clouded, but almost instantly he smoothed it over with a fond smile. “Just some…unexpected difficulties to iron out, and only I can solve them. But that’s life, eh? Success comes with price tags…but you know how that is.”
“Aren’t you the person who kept urging me to hire people to help? And not to micromanage but let them do their jobs? Are you heeding your own advice?”
“Well, listen to you. Want to be my management consultant?” He shook his head and sighed. “I’m sorry I’ve neglected you so badly. When I persuaded you to come to Austin, I thought I’d have more time to spend entertaining you.”
“Martin,” she chided. “We’re long past that. You’re my best friend. You have a life. You’ve made time for me every day since I got here, and even when we’re half a country apart, you’re always there for me. It goes both ways. I’m not company. We’re practically family.”
For a moment he looked unutterably sad, and she found herself wanting to hug him and make whatever was bothering him all better.
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