Bodyguard Reunion

by Margaret Daley

  “How are we getting back to the house?”

  “I’ll ask my detective friend to take us. The driver needs to be checked out by a doctor. The paramedics coming will take care of him. From the looks of it, he might have a concussion.”

  As T.J. paused next to the driver, Mary finished tending to the man with her limited resources. Chloe moved with Paul toward the trio. She needed to know what had happened to the driver.

  “I think he’ll be fine. He’s coherent.” Mary backed away while Paul wrapped his arms around her.

  “Did you see who did this to you, Ben?” T.J. sat in a chair in front of the young man, whose dazed look had cleared.

  Ben Johnson leaned against the table, cradling his head in one hand. “Not really. That parking space was one of the few left after I dropped y’all in front.” Closing his eyes for a few seconds, he rubbed his fingers across his forehead. “I parked and sat in the car for a while before I decided to use the restroom. I came into the church, found the men’s room then went back to the limo.”

  “Did you see anyone in the parking lot?”

  “A large man came out of the restroom as I was going in, but otherwise no one else. I heard the general rumble from the auditorium and saw people down the hall toward the front of the church—I guess in the foyer.”

  “Can you describe the man coming out of the bathroom?” T.J. gripped the back of his chair.

  “Big. Maybe six and a half feet. Dark hair. That’s all I can remember. I wasn’t really paying attention. The boss doesn’t like us away from the limo for long. I was only gone five minutes.” Ben swept his gaze across the group.

  Chloe stepped next to T.J. “What happened when you went back to the car?”

  “I saw the slashed tires on the left side and hurried to see how bad the damage was. All I could think was how mad my boss would be. The next thing I know someone hit me over the head. Everything is fuzzy after that. I vaguely remember being dumped in the trunk. I must have passed out.”

  “So you don’t know where your attacker came from?” T.J. asked the driver, but he looked at Chloe.

  She tore her gaze away and focused on Ben.

  He squinted and stared off into space for a moment. “He must have come from behind the car next to the limo on the right side. I think.”

  “But you aren’t sure?” Chloe asked as though she and T.J. had silently agreed to take turns with the questions.

  “No. It happened fast.”

  “Can you describe the car on your right?” T.J. rose suddenly, invading her space.

  Ben’s eyes lit up. “Yes. I may not remember people, but I do remember what they drive. It was a red Mustang, last year’s model. A beauty. The car gleamed.”

  “Anything else?” Chloe moved back several steps, her heartbeat increasing from T.J.’s nearness.

  “There was a pine-tree air refresher hanging from the rearview mirror. I love the smell of pine.”

  Chloe’s cell phone rang. She walked toward the window that overlooked the front of the church and answered a call from Rob. “What’s going on?” Outside, three patrol cars pulled up to the entrance.

  “The officers are there and will check out the church. I’ll meet them there in ten with my partner. They’ll let me know when it’s safe for you all to come out.”

  “Thanks. We’re in the room above the auditorium in front. I’ll be able to see you pull up.”

  T.J. joined her as she put her cell back into her pocket. He looked at the police fanning out and heading into the building. “We don’t have much to go on.”

  “Do you think the driver could be involved?”

  “I don’t think he’s lying. There are no big tells. But some people are quite good at lying.”

  His shoulder brushed against hers when he shifted. The casual touch zipped through her, making her acutely aware of the man beside her at the window—almost as if only days had passed since they had been together instead of years. It disconcerted her, and she had to fight to think what she needed to say. “So I’ll have Kyra check the company and driver out. But I don’t see how the description of the car next to the limo will produce anything.”

  “While you were on the phone, Ben remembered the last three numbers of the license plate. It’s probably nothing, but we should tell your detective friend about the Mustang.”

  “In other words, we’re no closer to who or why someone is after the Zimmermans. Ben referred to the assailant as ‘he.’ Does he think it was a man who attacked him?”

  “I didn’t ask. I will, but Ben is over six feet tall and a hefty guy. To knock him out and stick him into the trunk would take someone large and capable of managing that physically.”

  “The man from the restroom?”

  T.J. shrugged. “As you said, we have little to go on.”

  A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. A black Crown Vic drove into the parking lot and stopped next to one of the patrol cars. Not far behind the police was the ambulance that pulled up to the door to the church. “Rob and his partner are here as well as the EMTs. I told Rob where we were. He’ll let us know when it’s safe for us to come out of the room.”

  T.J. massaged his nape, a frown marring the hard planes of his face. Although he wasn’t classically handsome, his strong features gave off an air of capability and confidence. On closer examination, she realized he must have broken his nose between the time they had been together and now. How had it happened? Had there been other injuries? She didn’t want to care, but she did.

  Before she became fixated on that, she swung toward the window and observed her friend entering the building. But every part of her was strongly aware of the man standing next to her, their arms only inches apart as they watched the same thing.

  “When we get back to the house, I’ll need to contact the Zimmermans’ publisher,” he finally said as all the police disappeared inside.

  “Are you going to recommend that the couple cancel the rest of the tour?”

  “Yes. Their message might be important, but not if they are hurt or killed.”

  “They feel this country is at a crossroads. One road holds destruction. The other is a chance for salvation. They’re out there fighting for us to take the right path. I’m not sure they’ll quit.”

  “Then we’ll have to do what we can to protect them.”

  He’d said we’ll. She used to think of them in terms of we. She knew the danger of doing it now, but they had to form a solid partnership in order to protect the Zimmermans, who were clearly in danger. The more she and T.J. were a united front, the better Mary and Paul would be.

  But at what cost to her feelings? When he’d left her to go to Washington, she’d been alone dealing with her mother and her chemo treatments. She’d missed her father, who had died two years before, and T.J. She’d never felt so alone. She couldn’t go there again.

  * * *

  T.J. made his rounds of the two-story house, checking all the doors and window to make sure the place was locked up tight. It had been a long day, and the Zimmermans had retired early. Now all he and Chloe had to do was keep them alive. He’d worked with others in his duties as a Secret Service agent, and usually he was the lead. Chloe had made it clear, though, that they needed to be partners, and she was right.

  When he entered the kitchen, the scent of perking coffee saturated the air. After the day he’d had, he would need the whole pot to keep going.

  Chloe turned from the counter, a grin gracing her lips. “It’s almost done.”

  For a few seconds that smile whisked away his worries. She’d made the day bearable; he’d known his back was covered. “I hope it’s not decaf.”

  “What’s the point in drinking coffee without the caffeine?”

  He chuckled. “True. I remember you like your coffee li
ke I do—strong and caffeinated.” He recalled many things now that he was around her again. Her laugh—filled with so much joy. Her favorite dessert—anything with caramel. Her caring nature, especially for the underdog.

  “It’s strong. We’ll have to take turns standing guard tonight, so when the coffee runs out, make some more.”

  “I’ll take the first watch. Coffee won’t keep me up when I do get a chance to sleep. I don’t think anything will.” He covered the distance to the pot and poured a mugful. “This house isn’t as secure as it should be. I wish they weren’t staying here, but they insisted. Their friend invited them to use it while he was away on a skiing vacation.”

  “We’ll only be here a few more days, then on to San Antonio. Let’s hope the next place they’re staying is better.”

  “The alarm system is old and could be circumvented easily, not to mention the locks and door frames aren’t as sturdy as I’d like.”

  Her large eyes trapped him. “Maybe we should try to find a more secure place tomorrow. Then both of us can stay up tonight. Just in case there’s a follow-through with what happened today?”

  He didn’t remember her eyes being so green—like a peridot crystal—when they had been together before. “I’m a light sleeper. I’ll leave the door open. We both need some sleep in order to do our jobs. Even no sleep for one night could impair our abilities.”

  Chloe took a sip. “I was thinking of stretching out in front of the entrance to the Zimmermans’ bedroom. The easiest way to get to them is coming in the front door and up the stairs.”

  “I’ll be planting myself on the stairs when not making my rounds. That way you can sleep in the room across the hall from the Zimmermans’. I can’t imagine the hard floor being comfortable.”

  “I’m a light sleeper, too, so if you need help, just give me a holler.”

  The more he was around her, the more he realized they used to have a lot of things in common—but not enough for a commitment. “Wish we had a big dog right about now, but we’ll have to rely on the alarm system.”

  “The one that’s easily disarmed.” Her eyes twinkled, a dimple appearing in her cheek.

  Her look warmed him, although the old house they were staying in had a draft as if the cold wind blew right through it. “Afraid so.” He cupped the mug between his hands and took a slow sip. “This might be a good time to talk. As crazy as this first day was, we may not have time later.”

  Putting her cup down, she leaned back with her hands grasping the counter on either side of her. “I would prefer we leave the past in the past. What happened nine years ago can’t be changed.”

  She made it sound so easy. Just forget the past—the moments he’d shared with her, his decision to go into law enforcement rather than become a preacher and what his job had meant to him at the time. In the end it hadn’t made any difference. They had gone their separate ways, and he needed to remember that.

  “I made a choice to go to Washington—to take the promotion. I wanted you to come, but I understand why you didn’t. You had other obligations. Looking back on that time, I don’t think we were meant to be together. Sometimes people meet and begin to fall in love, but it doesn’t work out. I don’t want our past to interfere with the present.” As he spoke to her, he wondered if he really believed it couldn’t have worked out if circumstances had been different.

  “I don’t, either. I can put it behind me. Can you?” Her knuckles whitened as her grip tightened on the granite edge.

  “Yes, because I may be working with Guardians, Inc., and I can’t think of anyone I’d want more than you as a partner, if the need arises.”

  “Kyra is expanding?”

  “Maybe. I’ve given her a proposal to consider.”

  She pushed off the counter. “What kind?” Wariness entered her voice.

  “I have a lot of contacts for potential personnel and clients from my years working in the Secret Service. I’d buy into the business, and we would expand, hiring male bodyguards to complement the female ones already working for Guardians, Inc. I’ll take over some duties from her. I think she wants to have more time with her family.” T.J. swallowed some more of his drink, relishing it. She made a good cup of coffee.

  “So you’d become my boss?” Her forehead crinkled; her mouth pinched into a frown.

  “Yes. Can you work for me?”

  Chloe tilted her head to the side, her gaze fastened on him as if studying him. “I don’t know if I can. Working on a case with you is one thing. We’ve got a past—one serious enough that you wanted me to follow you to Washington and I asked you to stay in Dallas. You didn’t. You made your choice.”

  “I’d been working for that promotion for five years. I thought when your mother was better, you’d come. I asked you to. Why didn’t you?”

  “I wanted to be more important to a man than a job. It’s the past. I don’t want to go through this again. No good will come of it.”

  “So we’ll put the past in the past as you said and proceed forward?”

  She nodded, stepping away from him.

  “That’s all I need to know.” He finished the last few sips of his coffee.

  “What made you quit the Secret Service? Nine years ago it was obvious your life revolved around your job.” Tension threaded through each word.

  “Probably the same reason you quit the police department. I needed a change.” He busied himself pouring another cup of coffee. He couldn’t tell her about the government figure he’d protected while the man had had an affair. After a while, he hadn’t been able to look away as if nothing was wrong. He believed in marriage and wanted to get married only once in his life. When his respect for the man had plummeted, he’d realized that it was time for him to seek employment elsewhere.

  “When you feel up to telling me the whole story, I’m willing to listen.” Her expression neutral, she passed him and headed toward the dining room. “I’ll do a walk-through, then go up to the bedroom across from the Zimmermans. Wake me in four hours.”

  He watched her leave, then turned off the light and positioned himself at the bay window in the breakfast nook. Stepping close, he cracked the blinds open to survey the area outside. With all the security lights on, there were still pockets of shadows that could conceal a person from the patio to the wooden fence that surrounded the half-acre backyard. He had a bad feeling about this house. Good thing they were moving to San Antonio soon. He had a better place in mind for the Zimmermans to stay there, and the fewer people who knew the couple’s plans, the better to keep them safe during their off hours.

  Now all he and Chloe needed to do was get the Zimmermans to San Antonio safely.

  * * *

  Before falling into bed, Chloe walked toward the window at one end of the upstairs hallway. She tried to dismiss the conversation she’d had with T.J. She couldn’t. When her mother had gone into remission, she’d actually considered resigning from the police force and going to Washington, D.C., to be with T.J.

  But as she’d taken care of her mom, she’d seen the sadness and hurt she had held inside for years. While her mother had struggled with her battle with cancer, she had shared her disappointment in her marriage to a captain in the navy, who had been at sea for half their marriage, and how alone she’d felt for years. She hadn’t wanted to end up like her mother—married to a man married to his job. She’d never contacted T.J. and refused his calls. She wouldn’t settle for anything but what she deserved—a man who totally loved her and put her first rather than a career. She wasn’t sure about T.J.’s true feelings. He’d left because of his career—like her father.

  Chloe approached the window, keeping the overhead light off so she could see better when she looked out. The security lamp on this side of the house illuminated every crevice. She made her way to the other end and studied the terrain more carefully because the soft
glow didn’t cover every patch of ground. She started to turn away and go to bed when a movement out of the corner of her eye seized her full attention.

  Someone was out there.

  THREE

  Chloe whirled away from the hallway window and ran to the stairs. As she descended, she drew her gun. “T.J., we’ve got a visitor.” She shouted the words and raced for the alarm system to turn it off so she could go outside.

  “Where?” T.J. rushed into the foyer, his weapon in his hand.

  “Right side of house.” Heart pounding, she punched in the off code, then hurried toward the front door at the same time he did. “I’ll check outside. You stay in here and guard the Zimmermans.” She reached for the handle first.

  Her comment stopped him. He let his arm drop back to his side, a frown slashing his face. “I’m bigger. More capable of stopping an assailant.”

  “We’re not going to get into an arm-wrestling match right now. I won’t jump the person.” She pulled open the door, narrowing her gaze on him. “I’m using my gun.”

  He charged out the entrance. “So am I. Lock the door, turn on the alarm and call the police.”

  Short of tackling him and knocking him out, Chloe had no other choice but to do as he said. But when this was over with, he would hear from her. She didn’t need protecting, too.

  She flipped the lock in place, then stabbed in the code to turn the alarm back on. Anger and frustration surged through her veins. Pushing those emotions down, she called her detective friend.

  “You wanted to know if anything unusual happens. T.J. is outside trying to apprehend an intruder.” She gave him the address.

  “On my way.”

  As she hung up, she hurried up the stairs to check on the Zimmermans and let them know what was happening. When she knocked on their bedroom door, no one called out or let her in. She heard something hit the floor and reached for the knob.

  * * *

  Gun drawn and up, T.J. crept around the right side of the house, his full concentration on protecting his client. A picture of Chloe’s furious face taunted his attention for a couple of seconds until he shoved it away. He’d deal with her anger later. His first priority was keeping everyone safe, including Chloe, whether she liked it or not.