by Julie Miller
He was speeding out of the city toward the posh suburb where the Klines lived like royalty when his phone rang. He read the number, cursed at the annoyance and pulled onto the interstate before answering the call. “What is it now?”
“The blast didn’t kill her!”
This was getting tiresome. “It wasn’t supposed to.”
“This is your idea of a plan? We’re the ones in there with the cops, risking our necks. We’re the ones they’re gonna come talk to—you know that.”
“Don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry?” The caller cursed. “We tried to kill that hotshot lawyer today. The cops are gonna come straight to us.”
That wasn’t his concern. Still, his partners did offer a unique talent for violence and distraction that served his purpose, and he wasn’t ready for them to go to jail. So he’d taken care of them. “Do you know how that bomb was put together?”
“No.”
“Do you know who I am? Can you give the police my name or describe my face?”
“I can give them this phone number.” Although the tone was menacing, it was an empty threat.
“This is a disposable cell—they won’t be able to trace it. And since we’ve never met, you can’t identify me.” He paused long enough to signal his turn onto the exit ramp. “If you used a stolen car like I suggested and then disposed of it, the police won’t be able to put you at the scene of the crime. And if they do, there’s no way they can tie the bomb to you. You never touched it—you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time—like your boss claims happened to him. The most they can get you for is throwing fruit at a pretty woman. I’ve given you plausible deniability.”
“You’ve given me what?”
Idiot. He expelled an impatient breath as he pulled up to a stop light. Then he spelled it out in simple words.
“I’ve taken care of everything. I took out your witness for you. You rattled the assistant D.A. for me. Events have been set into motion. There’s no way she can win this case now.”
But he’d enjoy watching every humiliating moment of the end of Audrey Kline’s career. He’d revel in it.
Right up until the moment he had to kill her.
Chapter Six
“See?” Audrey said, her tone a mix of high-class attorney and told-you-so bravado. “My father paid a fortune for the best. State-of-the-art. You can only get through the gate if you have a pass card to swipe or you punch in the code—which changes daily.”
Alex handed back her security card and waited for the tall wrought-iron gates at the end of her driveway to swing open. Despite the modern additions of technology, this place was like the castle keep out of some damned fairy tale. Tall granite and limestone walls covered in ivy faced the street, and the lights on the other side of those walls illuminated a stand of massive ancient oak trees and a long brick driveway leading up to…well, he couldn’t quite make out anything through the skeletal branches beyond a three-story tower and a pair of porch lights. This place might be steeped in old money and architectural history, but it was built for privacy from the outside world, not security. “How many employees and family members have these cards?”
“There’s just Dad and me. A cook, housekeeper, groundskeeper—although, they typically use the service entrance in the back.”
That was already too many people with unrestricted access to the house.
“When they bring in extra staff, or we have guests, we make different security arrangements.”
“By issuing extra cards?”
“Sometimes. Or—”
“—you leave the gate open. Hell.” She wasn’t going to make guarding her easy, was she? Alex squeezed the truck’s steering wheel in his fist, guessing that another cautionary warning from him would lock Audrey firmly in independent ice princess mode, and rule one for a successful protection operation was to maintain the cooperation of the person he was protecting.
The forbidding rock walls that closed off the grounds from the rest of civilization might explain her desire to take the brisk, open-air walk from the courthouse to her office this afternoon. But the more he saw, the more he realized the sense of security Audrey lived with was false. True, Quinn Gallagher’s security designs were the best in Kansas City, maybe even the country, and getting inside wouldn’t be easy while the system was engaged. But if a perp ever did get beyond those gates, he’d have free rein to commit whatever crime and wreak whatever terror he wanted without anyone on this side of the walls knowing it before it was too late.
Alex pointed to the rotating cameras and motion sensors at either side of the gate as he drove inside. “Are the guards who handle the codes and equipment on-site?”
Audrey’s weary sigh echoed across the cab of his pickup truck. But her posture stayed ramrod straight. She was withdrawing into prickly defensive mode again, a far cry from the soft, needy woman who had melted into his kiss less than an hour ago, and clung to him as if he was an anchor on the streets this afternoon. “Not unless Daddy hires extra security for certain events. Otherwise, the system is monitored at the Gallagher Security offices. We’ve never had a break-in at the house since it was installed, and the few times trespassers have gotten onto the property, Gallagher had someone here in a matter of minutes.”
If a perp was bold enough, desperate enough or crazy enough, it only took a matter of seconds to attack or terrorize or kill. Shaking his head, Alex eyed the wide trunks of the trees lining the long brick driveway that still blocked a clear view of the house as they approached. The Chevy’s headlights only emphasized the nooks and shadows where an army of bad guys who meant business could hide.
“The Cosgroves had a Gallagher Security system. Yet somebody got to your friend.”
Audrey fingered the red mark staining her collar and, for a moment, those slender shoulders sagged. Alex reached across the seat, feeling like a jerk for having to resort to mentioning something so painful to make his point. But she curled her fingers into her collar and hugged her arms tightly around her, wanting no part of his apology or comfort.
He shifted his hand back to the steering wheel and propped his elbow out the open window. The cool breeze up his sleeve and on his face felt good. The subtle spicy scent off her skin and hair had filled the truck and gotten into his head. He needed the fresh air to remind him that he wasn’t some overprotective boyfriend here. He was KCPD. He was SWAT. He was a Taylor. He wasn’t chauffeuring Miss Fire and Ice because he wanted to uncover why she kept all that passion locked inside her, or to find out what it took to get those responsive lips and grasping fingers to cling to him again. He was strictly the hired help here, and no amount of fascination with a woman was going to change that. The D.A. had asked him to step up tonight because he was available, and because he knew how to keep someone safe. So do the job, already. Alex breathed in, blocking the frustration, curiosity and desire this woman triggered inside him with the scent of damp leaves and the terse words of his commander, Captain Cutler. “All the tech in the world can’t replace a set of sharp eyes and surrounding yourself with people you trust.”
“And who am I supposed to trust, Alex? You? Just because I let you kiss me—”
“Don’t throw all that on me, sweetheart. You were right in there with me.”
“So I lost control for a minute. You caught me at a weak moment.”
“It was an honest moment.” He was surprised at how her words stung. Like he went around taking advantage of vulnerable women. “Maybe your defenses were down, but that doesn’t mean those weren’t real desires and emotions passing between us.”
“Fine.” Even silhouetted across the seat from him, he could see the elegant point of that chin angling upward again. “So I…find you attractive. You’re different from the men I know.”
Good different? Or I’ve-strayed-to-the-dark-side-once-and-that-kiss-will-never-happen-again different? But she was on a roll now, her expression animated, her articulation sharp.
“And I’m gr
ateful to you for…being there when I needed someone. More than once.”
Uh-oh. There was a hesitation in that polished speech, a hitch that cut through his own defensive armor. Audrey might want to deny whatever was happening between them, but she wasn’t denying that there was already some kind of bond between them.
“That doesn’t mean I know you. Or trust you. Not enough to give up the things I do know and put my life in your hands.”
“Some people you know better after ten minutes than you do after spending a lifetime with them. I knew my adoptive dad was a man I respected the first day I met him. I knew my mom understood where I came from, and loved me, anyway, the first time she hugged me. My birth parents?” Where was this coming from? He never talked about this crap. He tapped his fist against the truck’s window frame and opened up the old wounds, anyway. “Tony Pitsaeli used to beat my mom when he was around. I’d hide in the closet or run away. When she came to, he’d tell her that he loved her. Never did understand that relationship. I tried to stop him one time, and he turned his belt on me. She took to drugs to escape the hell we lived in. I took to the streets. I wasn’t even a part of their lives anymore by the time he went to prison.”
“Alex.”
Audrey’s harsh gasp told him that he’d said enough to make his point. He slowed the truck and turned to her. She was facing him now. Her hands were still clasped in that protective hug, but even in the dimness of the dashboard lights he could see the color creeping up her neck. No wonder she fought so hard to guard her feelings—with that beautiful porcelain skin, she wore every emotion front and center for all the world to see. Maybe he ought to be protecting that vulnerability as well as her life.
“Don’t feel sorry for me, Red.” This time he didn’t hesitate to reach across the seat and touch her. He stroked the back of his fingers along her jaw, soothing the heat that colored her velvety skin. “I’m in a good place now. I’m my own man. But I’ve learned a thing or two about the world that may not be so easy to see from your ivory tower. Tony and Rae Pitsaeli were a part of my life for fifteen years, but I sure as hell didn’t trust them. Gideon and Meghan Taylor had my loyalty and trust by the end of the first week they pulled me out of foster care.”
He didn’t take it personally when she checked the impulse to rub her cheek against his palm.
She leaned in, closed her eyes—but quickly snapped them open and pulled away. “So you’re saying that we’ve known each other for only a month, but that, as annoying and presumptuous as you might be, we’ve shared enough for me to know I can trust you?”
Alex put both hands firmly on the steering wheel and laughed. “Something like that.”
“I’ll try. But just so you know, it’s when I’m not in control of a situation that I feel the most insecure.”
“Trust and control are two different issues. You can’t always control a situation.” Alex glanced over at her as the line of trees thinned and the driveway began to curve. “But you can always trust me.”
With that, she settled back into her corner of the seat, her arms crossed, her gaze straight ahead. He could almost hear the wheels churning inside her head as she pondered his promise—no doubt lining up pro and con lists of arguments as to whether she should believe him or not.
Fine. Let her think. He tensed behind the wheel and went on full alert. As the driveway widened into a three-lane parking area, he could see he had plenty to worry about himself. “Is there a party going on here?”
He pulled into a space behind a white van, one of two parked out front, along with nearly a dozen cars and a dilapidated pickup. Could the Kline estate serve up any more places for someone or something unexpected to hide?
“More like the aftermath of one.” Alex rolled up his window and shut off the engine while Audrey unhooked her seat belt. “We hosted a fundraiser for a fine arts scholarship in Gretchen Cosgrove’s name last night. Clarice Darnell has her crew here packing up—probably while she’s flirting with my dad.” She nodded toward a red compact. “That’s her car.”
Alex recognized the Darnell name from the newspaper—not that he ever attended the type of pricey shindigs she put on. But apparently Kansas City’s elite couldn’t throw a party without Clarice at the helm. There was another niggling familiarity about the event planner’s résumé, but Alex couldn’t put his finger on it. Instead of playing detective, he’d do better to focus on getting Audrey safely inside. “Let’s get in the house so I can familiarize myself with the setup there.”
“You’re my bodyguard only for tonight.”
It could be only for one hour and it wouldn’t change his training, or his determination to keep her beautiful, stubborn self safe. “Let’s get inside the house.”
After climbing out, Alex pulled back the front of his jacket to keep his badge in plain view and his Glock close at hand while he circled the front of the truck. The back of one van was open, but empty. The front door of the house was propped open while the brass lamps on either side were blazing.
By the time he reached the passenger door to hold it open and take her hand to balance her while she stepped from the running board down to the bricks, her skin had returned to a creamy shade of pale, indicating she had her emotions firmly back in check. “Did your grandmother teach you these manners, too?”
Alex grinned. “My commanding officer. He insists we stick close to the target we’re protecting.”
“There are more motion detectors and cameras installed around the house itself. With an alarm system we key in ourselves. Do you really think Demetrius Smith and his Broadway Bad Boys are smart enough to get past all the monitors and codes here or at the courthouse?”
Alex locked his truck and placed his hand at the small of Audrey’s back, staying close to her side as he guided her through the rows of cars toward the front steps. “Maybe not—a direct, drive-by assault like this afternoon is more their style. But Smith has the money to hire someone who’s smart enough to get in here. And you know he has a track record for doing whatever it takes to avoid prison time—witness intimidation, threatening the opposing counsel.”
For a moment, she paused. Because of his grim words? Or did the hesitation in her step have something to do with the black Lexus that seemed to catch her attention as they passed it? In either case, she wasn’t about to share. Her shoulders came back, her chin went up and Alex had to lengthen his stride to keep even as her heels clicked in a faster staccato up the steps.
He caught Audrey on either side of her waist when she jumped back at the edge of the porch. He felt the subtle tremor in her balance and held on as two workmen in coveralls barreled through the open front door, carrying a long folding table between them.
“Sorry, ma’am,” the older of the two men said, pausing. “Didn’t see you standing there.”
Was Audrey inching back into him? Alex slid his arm around the front of her waist, shutting down his body’s instant reaction to her firm bottom pressing against his groin and turning his attention to the man with the toothpick wedged at the corner of his mouth. “Move along, guys,” he advised.
Toothpick man winked. “Glad to see you’ve got your coat tonight, ma’am. I was worried about you catching a chill last night.”
Yep. She was definitely moving closer. Hackles that were more male than cop raised along the back of Alex’s neck. “Move. Now.”
It was an order.
With a friendly salute, the man with “Bud” embroidered above his front pocket nodded to his partner, and they carried the table on down the steps and loaded it into the back of the open van. While Alex tried to process what had spooked Audrey and why his blood was still pumping with a surge of adrenaline that went far beyond standard alertness, she pushed his arm away and stormed inside the house.
Alex dodged a second pair of men carrying another table outside, and hurried into the marble-tiled foyer behind her. Ah, hell. He’d worked the Plaza downtown on Thanksgiving night when the holiday crowds gathered to watch some official
turn on the Christmas lights, and hadn’t seen this many comings and goings in a confined space to contend with.
There were four more men, packing linens into laundry bags and tearing down tables in the first two rooms extending off either side of the foyer. Another man, this one wearing glasses and a suit and tie, was carrying a clipboard, jotting down notes and moving from room to room. He halted one man carrying a large silver bowl and pointed him back to a serving table, telling him to pack the bowl into a carrier before loading it. There were two women boxing up glasses and at least two more with cleaning supplies, wiping down furniture and vacuuming rugs.
For a split second, Alex lost sight of Audrey completely as she headed for a carpeted staircase. But he glared a worker out of his path and caught up with her as another man called her name. “Audrey?”
Her knuckles whitened as she squeezed the railing. But she was smiling as she turned to greet the red-haired man who dashed out of a walnut-framed doorway. “Daddy.”
Alex retreated a step as she stretched up on tiptoe to trade a tight hug with her father. The older man framed her face between his hands as he pulled away, carefully studying the mark on Audrey’s face, kissing her forehead and then wrapping her in another hug. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, missy. I saw it on the evening news. My God. An explosion?” He pulled away again, a loving reprimand stamped on his ruddy features. “And when you didn’t answer your phone? It’s a good thing Dwight Powers answered his. He told me what happened outside the courthouse.”
She pushed some space between them, resting her hand over her father’s heart. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to worry you. I left you a message that said I was okay.”
“Uh-huh.”
Clearly, Alex wasn’t the only man in the room who disagreed with Audrey’s idea of “okay.” Then he felt himself popping to attention as Audrey’s father turned to him and shook his hand.