Texas Bodyguard

by Jean Brashear

  He’d been evasive on the phone, and she would get no more out of him from a distance. She had to be able to look him in the eye, and once she did, she would know if he was in trouble.

  Women and children? Sexual slavery? Her mind balked. Could she be that naïve? That blind? Regardless, she was done with all of that. No more blinders on her, not ever again.

  She tried Martin’s cell again, but the call went straight to voicemail. She didn’t leave a message.

  “Miss?”

  “Yes.” She battled her way out of the fog and reached into her purse, tipping him handsomely. “Thank you.”

  She stepped from the cab and stood at the walk gate, blinking like a cave creature emerging into sunlight. This place looked exactly as she’d left it, a welcome refuge, a beautiful retreat.

  While she was forever changed.

  In the midst of her misery and humiliation, she forced herself to acknowledge that however much Sean had hurt her heart and her pride, if any of what he’d said was true, she had to proceed carefully. If there indeed were innocents being victimized, she didn’t want to stand in the way of efforts to save them.

  Her focus would be on learning the truth.

  Reassured by some semblance of purpose, at last she remembered that she needed a key card and a combination. While she was scrabbling in her purse to find the card, she heard footsteps and looked up.

  Vanessa opened the gate for her and held out her arms. “Oh, Annabelle…” She drew her inside and opened her arms. “Come here.”

  Gratefully Annabelle fell into them. The dry husk of her heart dissolved in a river of tears then. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I just…”

  “He’s miserable, too.” Vanessa hugged her. “And he’s worried sick over you.”

  “I don’t want to talk about him. I can’t.”

  “Then we won’t. Let me take you inside. Would you rather come into the hotel or go to your quarters?”

  Annabelle didn’t want to be alone. “I’ll go with you.”

  One arm around her shoulders, Vanessa led her along the sidewalk and up the stairs, murmuring soothing sounds in her ear. Inside, she settled Annabelle on a soft, comfortable sofa.

  “I’ll get you a glass of water,” she offered. “Or would you prefer wine?”

  She was far too miserable to be drinking. “Water’s fine.” She curled into the cushions, exhausted and heart-sore, and wished for the sweet surcease of forgetfulness she knew would not be waiting.

  As Martin drove toward his house late that afternoon, he was newly grateful that he’d chosen to live outside downtown—way outside. He was actually past the city limits to the west, a good twenty miles from the center of the city. Since he didn’t operate on normal rush hours, traffic had never been an issue, and to him, the tradeoff of quiet after the constant bass thumping and frenetic activity of the club was worth the inconvenience of distance.

  He turned off the highway and down a winding road. The houses here were screened from view by the preponderance of trees. In addition, the homes were spread quite a distance apart. He’d only met one of his neighbors, and that was absolutely fine with him.

  He made a right into his driveway, an asphalt ribbon winding through the trees. The house wasn’t visible for two more turns. The cedar tree cover was dense except right around the house where he’d had it cleared, and the feel of the place was lonely to some.

  Occasionally it was to him as well, but not today. Right now he was glad that anyone following him couldn’t do so easily.

  He wondered if Sage already had a tail on him.

  He sure wouldn’t put it past her, but anyone she sent wouldn’t be able to sneak in on foot, plus he had security cameras scattered over the entire ten acres. Whoever it was would have to lurk at the perimeter.

  He wouldn’t be here long, anyway. He hadn’t waited for Sage to return to the club, but he’d told Leslie he was getting a massage and would be back afterward. Since he got massages frequently and had already mentioned the possibility to Sage, no one would think anything of it.

  Not at first.

  And by then, he’d be on a plane, headed out of the country.

  He hoped to high heaven Annabelle had heeded his message and would be on her way home to L.A. right away. At least she had a bodyguard, though the fact that the guy was an off-duty cop could go both ways. He didn’t like having cops anywhere around, especially not now, but he was happy she had one with her.

  There was no danger to him from the cop’s presence—Annabelle knew nothing about his situation. He’d kept her in the dark on purpose. If he’d known things would hit the skids like this while she was nearby, he’d never have encouraged her to visit.

  He pulled into the garage and was about to shut off the engine when his cell rang.

  Sage. He groaned. He really didn’t want to talk to her, but he needed to allay any suspicions. “Hey, Sage. Didn’t expect you back already. Get enough sleep?”

  “You need to get back here.”

  Crap. He hadn’t grabbed his passports and money yet. “I’m about to go in for my massage. Can’t whatever it is wait?”

  “If you don’t care that one of Hector’s girls went to the cops.”

  “What? How do you know?”

  “I have contacts inside the police department.”

  “Shit.” He thought frantically. His masseuse was downtown. He couldn’t make it back to the club soon enough to make it credible that he’d been there. “But what could she possibly know?”

  “Jorge will be asking Hector that.”

  “You told Lima?”

  “Of course.”

  “But Hector isn’t our responsibility.” He tossed some clothing in a bag. His laptop case was already in the car. He’d buy whatever else he needed.

  “I’ll remind you that his girls operate out of here quite often.”

  And some of them were on the video footage involved in the blackmail scheme.

  “Jorge doesn’t like mistakes. It doesn’t matter who’s responsible,” she pointed out.

  He opened the safe in his bedroom and pulled out the cash, credit cards and passports.

  “Martin?”

  “I’m here. Just thinking. Which girl was it?” he asked, buying time as he strode back through his house toward his car.

  “The one called Candy.”

  “I don’t remember her—wait, is she the twin?”

  “Yes. The one whose sister tried to engineer an escape.”

  Martin swore ripely.

  “My sentiments exactly. Cursing solves nothing, however. Hector told me a few days ago that he found her outside the club the other night with a man who’d been in here asking questions of Bella.”

  Martin frowned. “What kind of questions?”

  “Hector didn’t know. Bella is on the early shift tonight. I’ll be discussing this with her.”

  “She talks to a lot of men.”

  “Hector has a sketchy description that should narrow it down.”

  “And then we can review the camera footage.” He’d made it to the highway, but the clock was ticking and he was nowhere near downtown. “I need to go in and pay this woman, at least. She made a special trip for me.”

  Sage sighed dramatically. “I suppose you could go ahead and get the massage.”

  Her arrogance grated on him, that she thought she had the right to give him permission. He needed the time, though, so he swallowed his umbrage. “Thanks. I could use it. I’ll be back right afterward. Sure you’re okay talking to Bella by yourself?”

  “I think I can handle it.” Her tone was dry as the Sahara.

  He managed a sardonic laugh. “Of course you can. Thanks, Sage. See you after a while. I scheduled a long massage, and I have to turn my phone off in there, but I’ll check for any messages as soon as I’m done.”

  He’d no sooner disconnected than his phone rang again. He glanced at the display.

  Oh, hell. Annabelle. He couldn’t talk to her, not right
now.

  Please, Annabelle, do as I asked. Go home and stay safe.

  He rejected the call and sent it to voicemail.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sean stood in the observation area, looking through one-way glass at the woman who answered to the name of Candy.

  He nearly wouldn’t have recognized her, and that he saw her now in full light rather than nighttime had little to do with it. The girl/woman he’d talked to at Danger Zone had been terrified. Cowed. Frantic over her sister’s fate and desperate to get away from him, to avoid rocking the boat.

  She looked younger now, her face scrubbed clean of the thick makeup she’d worn, her clothing simple instead of provocative. Despite the warm weather, she had her shirt buttoned all the way to her throat, and her jeans were baggy, not tight. Her long dark hair was scraped back into a ponytail.

  She appeared almost nun-like—but even that wasn’t all that differentiated her from her earlier incarnation.

  She looked…fierce.

  What had made for the change?

  “She said you’re the only one she would trust,” Bob remarked.

  Good that someone does. Annabelle’s heartbroken, accusing eyes were never far from his mind.

  “You really fell for America’s Sweetheart, huh?”

  He hadn’t meant to say it aloud. “Doesn’t matter. She can’t stand the sight of me now.” He shrugged. “It never would have worked, anyhow.”

  “I’m sorry, kid.” Bob clapped his shoulder in sympathy. “Tough position to be in.”

  “Guess I was due for a fall.” But it felt like a dive from Everest.

  “I know we rib you, but there’s no pleasure to be had, seeing you like this.”

  “I’m fine.” He would be. There was no other choice. “Sure Doc will find someone to cover her?” Annabelle’s safety was paramount in his mind.

  “He’s on it. And I’ll go myself, if need be.”

  “Thanks.” Sean squared his shoulders. “Okay, showtime.” He went back out in the hall, then entered the room he’d been observing.

  The girl looked up. If she was sixteen, he’d eat his favorite cowboy hat. “Hello.”

  “Hello,” she said, her voice heavily accented. “I wait for you.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner. Are you comfortable? Would you care for a soft drink? More water?”

  “I am fine. Thank you.”

  “You wanted to see me. What can I help you with?”

  Her brown eyes burned into his. “You will kill Hector and his men.”

  Whoa. “You know I can’t simply walk out and shoot them, right?”

  “Give me gun. I will do it.”

  “May I ask your real name? I don’t like the sound of Candy. It’s all wrong for you.”

  “I don’t answer to it. That time is over.”

  Tears welled, but she brushed at them impatiently. “I am Melis. My sister was Meryem.”

  Was. “You know about her.”

  A brusque nod. “She was murdered. My family will blame me. I am elder.”

  “You’re not twins?”

  “We are—were. But I am born first. Meryem my responsibility.”

  “You’re not responsible for her death, Melis.” His voice was low and harsh with his own fury. “Others are. Many others who have made themselves rich by preying on the innocent.”

  “I am no longer innocent.” She stared at the table, her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles were white. “To come to America was my idea.”

  He reached for her hands, but stopped when she flinched. No telling how she’d been brutalized. He let his hand lie still nearby on the table in a show of silent support. “You wanted to make a better life.”

  “I thought it would be like the movies.” In her broken voice, he heard an echo of Annabelle’s youthful disillusionment. Why did the world so often prey on the female of the species? His gender had a lot to answer for.

  “Melis, you have to listen to me. You did nothing wrong. You dreamed, and others victimized you for it.”

  “I want them to die. My father would kill them.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I can never go home now. I am….parya.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means…how you say? Outcast. Unwanted. If I return, no one talk to me, no one look at me…that is…?”

  “Shunned.”

  She nodded. “I think this is the word.”

  A pariah. How barbaric to blame the victim.

  Now wasn’t the time to argue cultural biases, however. Sean vowed that he’d find a way to help this girl. He couldn’t fix the damage he’d done to Annabelle, and to the end of his life, her devastated face would haunt him.

  But this, he could fix. And he would. Hector and Martin and Jorge Lima would pay, whatever it took. “I can’t simply kill them for you, but I can make sure they are caught and punished, if you help me. Will you?”

  Her nod was fierce.

  “Then tell me what you know. Start from the beginning, when you first met a contact in Istanbul.”

  With a grateful glance, she began talking.

  “Here,” Vanessa said, walking back into the living area with a tray full of goodies.

  Annabelle jolted back from the edge of sleep.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Vanessa said. “Here’s your water. I’ll just leave the tray here and go. A nap would undoubtedly be good for you.”

  Everything about Vanessa always said come here, rest your weary head…let me take care of you. “There’s not a hotelier in the world to match you, and I’ve stayed in many of the best hotels in the world.” Vanessa’s cheeks pinkened with pleasure, but Annabelle could already see her starting to demur. “I mean it. You’re this amazing combination of professional and the best kind of mother possible. I could live here, I swear.”

  A flicker in Vanessa’s eyes at the word mother.

  Oh, dear. “Is everything okay…are you—I mean, did you do a test?”

  Everything about Vanessa bloomed then. “I didn’t really need a test, but…yes. I’m definitely pregnant. Due in January, I think.”

  “I’m really happy for you.” She was, too, even though the news only highlighted that her own dreams of a family had never been further away.

  “Thank you. Somehow, once I told Dane, all my fears vanished.”

  “You told Dane?”

  Vanessa rolled her eyes. “I know…I wanted to wait until he was home, but then last night he made a video call, and I guess I was just too transparent. Not that he figured out what was different, just that something about me was. The next thing I knew, I just blurted it out. No self-control at all.”

  “He was pleased?”

  “He was thrilled. He could hardly wait to call his family.”

  “So when’s the wedding?”

  Vanessa looked startled, then smiled. “The day he gets back, if he has his way.”

  “Will he?”

  Vanessa sighed. “I…it probably sounds foolish, given that it’s a second marriage, but… I never had a real wedding the first time.” Longing shone from her eyes.

  Annabelle yielded to impulse and grasped her hand. “It doesn’t sound foolish. Romance is important. You have something special with Dane—anyone can see that. You deserve a beautiful occasion when you pledge your lives to each other.”

  Vanessa’s fingers squeezed hers. “Thank you.” She hesitated. “Would you come?”

  Annabelle froze. Could she ever bear to come back to this city? Especially for an event where Sean would no doubt be in attendance?

  “I’m sorry.” Vanessa drew away. “I got swept away by sentiment. I should have thought…I’m really sorry, Annabelle. Of course you wouldn’t want to be here after…”

  Annabelle was well aware of how private a person Vanessa was, how hard she worked to afford that privacy to others. I have no family, she’d once said. Annabelle had no sisters, no close girlfriends who weren’t related to the industry—which was basically the same as non
e at all. In Hollywood, true friendships were extremely rare when you reached a certain level of fame. Everyone wanted something from you.

  She would probably be stretching things to lay claim to sisterhood with Vanessa, but honest admiration and fondness? Absolutely. Too much of both to risk tainting Vanessa’s excitement by dwelling on her own heartache. “It’s not about Sean. I’m a big girl.”

  She sighed. “These are the times I regret my choice of career. I would love to, Vanessa, truly, but…you haven’t seen how bad things can get when I’m in the public eye.”

  “I’ve had some experience with Liam’s situation,” she responded. “And I’m not afraid.”

  Liam and herself, both in attendance at the same occasion…that was definitely tempting fate. She should say no, but she had a sense of how difficult it had been for Vanessa to ask.

  “I shouldn’t,” Annabelle responded. “But I really want to. You let me know when and where, and I’ll figure out something. Maybe a disguise. I’m not an actress for nothing.” She found a nearly genuine smile.

  “I’m not after a big fancy wedding. It will be very private. All I want are the people who are important to us.”

  Annabelle was deeply flattered to be included in that company. She wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but she and Vanessa had crossed a boundary from host and guest to friendship in a surprisingly short time.

  The best part was feeling that the liking was genuine, that Vanessa thought of her as a person and not a star. Except with her family and with Martin, she almost never experienced slices of real life, genuine relationships not motivated by ambition or self-promotion or sucking up to gain some sort of advantage…at least until Sean.

  Or she’d thought it had been real…only to learn it had all been a lie.

  I was doing my job, which is protecting the innocent by catching those who would prey on them. That’s your buddy Martin.

  She had to know. She would try Martin again.

  And she would stop thinking about Sean.

  Vanessa was still waiting for her answer, and there could be only one, if Annabelle cared about her. “I would be honored, Vanessa. Truly.”

  Vanessa’s eyes welled. “I would love that.”