“Good timing. Did you find anything?”
T.J. eased into the chair across from Paul while Mary and Chloe took a seat. “Nothing. That means most likely the person who came into the house two days ago was only there to wipe your computer and damage Mary’s dress.”
“But at least he doesn’t know where we are now. That’s a good thing.” Mary spread her napkin in her lap.
“Yes,” Chloe said, although a person could look at it from a different angle. If breaking and entering to plant a bug was the object, then the motive didn’t seem as personal. It became much more personal if an intruder risked capture to taunt the couple with how easy it was for him to get to them. That meant the person was playing with them.
“Let’s pray. I’ve worked up an appetite.” Paul bowed his head and blessed the food, then began passing the platters around the table.
As Chloe handed T.J. the eggs and bacon, their gazes connected. In his dark eyes, full of concern, she could see he’d been thinking the same thing. Instead of being relieved he’d found no tracking devices, his expression reflected apprehension, his mouth tightening in a frown. No tracking device meant someone close had leaked the whereabouts of the Zimmermans. This could be another long day.
* * *
In the large auditorium, Paul wrapped up their appearance to a standing ovation. T.J. kept scanning the crowd, larger than the one at the church two days before. The place was packed. A detail of police was stationed around the room. Paul, dressed in his usual gray suit, had removed his coat early in their presentation and laid it over a chair behind him. He turned and shrugged into it, then straightened the red rosebud pinned to his lapel.
“Ready?” T.J. asked his client.
“Just a moment.” Paul moved forward to meet some of the audience who had approached the stage.
He and Mary shook people’s hands as they had before the presentation.
Chloe paused next to T.J. right behind the couple. “If only we could get them to come, speak and immediately leave,” she whispered close to his ear, with her attention focused on the throng in the auditorium. She left him to watch the smaller group near the Zimmermans.
From the moment they had driven to the large school auditorium, he and Chloe had fallen into a rhythm where she often knew what needed to be done without him saying anything. She was making it easy to work with her. She was experienced, controlled and totally professional. He appreciated and admired her for that.
When Nancy Carson, the publicist for the publisher, walked out onto the stage and signaled for the Zimmermans to accompany her, Paul and Mary disengaged from the crowd after saying a prayer for the group.
“That’s what I love about them. They’re always thinking of others even with all the trouble they’ve been having.” Chloe fell into step behind the couple while T.J. took the lead and went through the double doors first. The corridor was clear except for a half a dozen individuals, rendering the situation manageable.
As Paul and Mary walked side by side toward a room where a book signing was set up, T.J. took Paul’s left and Chloe Mary’s right. The publicists hurried before them, and when the Zimmermans stepped through the entrance, T.J. understood why. A television reporter with her camera was there, along with hundreds of people waiting for the couple. Why weren’t they told about this? This made a difference in how they controlled a room.
T.J. hadn’t fully realized the scope of their popularity until today. Before Nancy could draw Paul and Mary to be interviewed by the young woman from a TV station in Dallas, the crowd pressed toward the Zimmermans. Someone knocked into T.J. He swiveled around to face an older gentleman, maybe seventy years old.
“Sorry. Someone pushed me from behind,” the man said, but still jostled for a chance to speak to Paul.
T.J. glanced at Chloe being squashed against Mary. Why in the world had he thought this was manageable? Nothing about it was.
“Step back, please,” T.J. shouted to the throng. When no one responded and kept pushing forward, he stuck his fingers into mouth and whistled, loud enough that the people around him backed away.
“Please move back and give the Zimmermans a chance to get to their table so they can sign your books.” Chloe’s clear, authoritative voice sounded above the murmurs.
The crowd parted and allowed them to escort Paul and Mary toward the area set up for the book signing. T.J. noticed Nancy beaming and the cameraman capturing the frenzy on tape.
After the couple had settled behind the table with a barrier between them and the crowd, T.J. still didn’t let down his guard. The way the publicist was looking victorious, he wondered if she had set up that little scene when they had come into the room. Standing behind and to the side of Paul, T.J. looked toward Chloe, his tension reflected in her features.
“I hope we don’t repeat that little scene at any other stops. Nothing happened today, but the person after them could cause some havoc. Perfect time to,” she murmured, while her gaze swept the winding line that filled the large room.
“We’ll make sure more police are in attendance next time they sign books and make sure with Nancy Carson there are no surprises like today with the television reporter.” T.J. threw her a quick, assessing look. “You okay? I saw you getting pushed around.”
“Besides my foot being stepped on, I’ll survive. We might as well settle in here. This is going to take a few hours.”
T.J. looked from one side of the room to the other. “Yep. At least.”
By the end of the book signing, T.J. and Chloe hadn’t left their positions for a couple of hours.
Tension vibrated the air, his every muscle taut and his nerves on edge as he waited for something to go wrong. He slanted a look at Chloe, her posture ramrod straight. At least their job was getting easier as the crowd finally thinned and the reporter got her story and left.
T.J. returned his focus on the large man pausing in front of Paul. The guy smiled at Paul and requested the book signed to him and his wife. Most of the people remaining were those who had sponsored the speaking engagement. Paul slid the book toward Mary to add her signature, then she passed it to the large gentleman. The couple had a good system down, but they had been autographing hundreds of books for almost two hours nonstop. T.J. didn’t know how they did it.
The publicist bent over and checked the last box, then rose and said, “Sorry, everyone. These half a dozen are the last books.” Nancy Carson waved at the short stack between Paul and Mary on the table. “I have a sheet where you can write down your address, and we’ll send you a signed copy.”
A few in line grumbled, but most hurried to Nancy Carson to sign up.
After autographing the last book, Mary rose. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.”
While Chloe went with her, Nancy stepped over to Paul. “This event was a huge success. At each stop more and more are attending and, even better, buying your books. I’m glad we’ve arranged a book signing at most of the rest of the stops on the tour. We’ve gotten good coverage.”
A scowl descended over Paul’s features. “Not the kind of coverage I want. I’ve been following what has been written. It seems the reporters are only focusing on the bad things happening.”
“But that hasn’t discouraged anyone from coming. Any publicity is better than none. This has gone national. I won’t be surprised if you two sell tons of books over the next couple of weeks. Take Back America has risen to number one at all of the major online bookstores and is still on the New York Times bestsellers list. You two are spreading your message. That’s what you wanted, as well as your publisher.”
Paul shifted toward T.J. “I’m ready to go. It’s been a long day.”
Nancy started toward a bookstore employee as she addressed Paul. “A television station wants you to appear on their morning show the day after tomorrow before you head to your nex
t town. I told them you two will be ecstatic.”
Paul’s frown deepened. “I would have appreciated you running it by my wife and me before agreeing. Squeezing in any more doesn’t give us much time to regroup and rest.”
“You can do that at the end of the tour.” Nancy smiled and continued toward the employee.
“That woman only looks at Mary and me with dollar signs in her eyes,” Paul said when Nancy was out of earshot.
“A television station is a safer place to protect you than a large crowd. Why don’t you do more of that?” T.J. asked.
Paul’s mouth twisted, then settled into a neutral expression. “Mary and I want to touch people personally. These speaking tours give us a better chance than being in front of a camera. I’m not a big fan of television anyway. Too many people are wrapped up in watching it rather than living the life they were meant to. They use it as a form of escape.”
“The room is clearing out. Let’s get Mary and Chloe and leave. We need to meet Kyra Hunt to trade cars again.”
“You really think someone would put a tracking device on the car in the parking lot?”
“Yes.”
Paul shook his head. “How do you live distrusting everyone?”
“It’s my job. If I wasn’t so cautious, someone could be killed.”
“Still, it has to affect you. I find it so much easier to trust the Lord. He’ll prevail.”
“In the meantime, I’m here to protect people who need it.” But he couldn’t argue it hadn’t affected his personal life. When had he stopped trusting in God?
T.J. met Chloe and Mary returning from the restroom. “Ready?”
Chloe nodded. “I’ll call Kyra to meet us.”
“Stay inside by this door. I’ll bring the car around.” T.J. pushed out of the double doors leading to the side parking lot and jogged toward the rental car he’d exchanged with Kyra en route to the event. The still air cooled him, and he relished being outside after being stuffed in a room with so many people, all wanting the Zimmermans’ attention. He should be used to that scene after the Secret Service.
T.J. slipped behind the steering wheel and drove toward the side of the building. When he pulled up near the double doors, Chloe rushed the couple to the rental. She sat in the back with Mary while Paul clambered into the front passenger seat.
Although T.J. would switch back to his gray Jeep Grand Cherokee before continuing to the safe house, he would have Kyra check the rental for a tracking device. Ten minutes later, he parked behind his car, which Kyra sat in. “I’ll only be a sec. Stay in here until I give you the go ahead.” He made his way to the Jeep’s driver’s side.
Kyra climbed out. “Everything go okay?”
“So far so good, but I won’t breathe easy until we’re at the safe house. Before you turn in this rental, see if anyone attached a tracking device. We’ll follow the same procedure with a new rental car tomorrow. At least that way I’ll know we aren’t being tracked.”
“I will, and I checked your Jeep. It was clean. Not that I was expecting to find anything. But I like to take every precaution possible.” Kyra exchanged keys with T.J. “Drives my husband crazy at times.”
“Tell Michael hi, and congratulations on another baby.”
The owner of Guardians, Inc., smiled. “I will, and when this is over, I hope you’ll come to dinner. I want to discuss your proposal to become my partner. With another baby arriving in five months, I need to stay home more.”
T.J. walked toward the rental with Kyra. “Great.” At the car he opened the front passenger door. “Let’s go.”
As Mary and Paul exited the rental, T.J. introduced them to Kyra.
“I wish we weren’t meeting under these circumstances. I’m a fan of yours.” Kyra shook hands and then hugged Chloe. “You’ll be just fine with T.J. and Chloe.”
T.J. escorted Paul to his Jeep. Although on a residential street Kyra had picked at random, he was still alert for anything unusual. When a blue van turned the corner and headed toward them, he hurried his pace and quickly ushered Paul into the front seat while Chloe helped Mary into the back. The van picked up speed, the driver rolling down his window.
FIVE
As the blue van grew nearer to the Jeep, Chloe said, “Get down.” With her hand on her gun, she stood in front of the back window to block Mary.
T.J. followed suit. Tension poured off him as the van came to a stop and the driver leaned out his window. “Do you know where 1245 South Fourth Street is? My GPS sent me here, but this isn’t Fourth.”
“Sorry. I can’t help you.”
“Oh, okay.” The driver moved his van slowly forward ten yards and asked Kyra, who had positioned herself by the rental.
“There isn’t a Fourth Street around here, but there is a Forest. That sort of sounds like the one you’re looking for. Could there be a mix-up?” Kyra asked while waving T.J. on.
Chloe climbed in T.J.’s Jeep and kept her eye on Kyra and the van driver as T.J. pulled away. When T.J. rounded the corner, she said, “You all can get up now.”
Paul glanced back. “What’s going on? The guy was only looking for an address.”
“We don’t know what his real intentions were, so we prepare for the worst. If we don’t, we could be caught off guard.” T.J. made another turn, then quickly a third one.
“How sad you have to suspect everyone. I couldn’t do your job.”
Mary’s words stayed with Chloe the whole way to the safe house. For a good part of her life as a law enforcement officer and then a bodyguard, she’d had to be tough and strong for others around her. Even as a teen with her father gone a lot, she’d had to be there for her mother, but she had dreamed of having her own family and doing things differently from her mom. Somewhere along the line, that dream had gotten pushed to the background. Was it because she couldn’t quite forget those times her mother had cried, lamenting how much she and her husband had been in love?
But seeing Kyra’s pregnancy starting to show had revived Chloe’s yearning to be a wife and mother. At first, when dating Adam, she’d thought he would be the one, but she must have instinctively known he wasn’t suited for her because she hadn’t been totally able to commit to him. He’d ended up dating another woman behind her back.
After T.J. and Adam, she wasn’t sure having a family was in God’s plan for her. If she couldn’t make a total commitment, a marriage wouldn’t work. She’d seen that firsthand with her parents.
* * *
Later that night, Chloe entered the living room and found T.J. staring out the front window. He threw a look over his shoulder at her, then went back to studying the landscape outside. “Do you see anything suspicious?” She planted herself next to him and gazed into the darkness.
“No, but Kyra called. She found a tracking device on the rental by the rear left tire. She’s working with a sketch artist to draw a picture of what the man in the blue van looked like. The police will have it with them tomorrow at the last speaking engagement in Dallas.”
“Good. I know you took down the license number. Have they tracked the owner?” She found herself narrowing her eyes, trying to see into the blackness.
“Yes, and as you guessed, it was stolen and found abandoned about ten blocks away.”
“Any fingerprints?”
“Tons, but none on the steering wheel or the driver’s door.”
“With a picture of the guy, they can run a facial recognition program for a match.”
“True—maybe we’ll get a break and he’ll be in the system.”
T.J. shifted toward her, his eyes shielded by the shadows.
But Chloe felt them pierce through her as though he were assessing her and trying to figure something out. “I guess we scared him away since there were three of us, ready to draw our guns.”
/> “Plus we were blocking Paul and Mary from his view. Before he got a second shot off, he’d have been dead.” He narrowed the space between them and grasped her hand. “But we came close today. One of us could have been shot.”
The feel of his hand around hers sent her heartbeat racing. Memories of their past deluged her. If her mother hadn’t been sick with cancer, would she have gone with T.J. to Washington? She’d asked herself that many times over the years. But when her mother had recovered, she still hadn’t been able to shake her doubts about T.J.’s true feelings, or she would have moved to Washington. Even though she’d ended up comparing all men she dated to T.J.
“And we know he doesn’t care if others get hurt while he’s hunting the Zimmermans.” She barely strung the words together to form a coherent sentence, but T.J. was waiting for her to say something.
“Right. He gave the Zimmermans’ driver in Dallas a concussion, and that little stunt in Paris injured a few spectators. Thankfully not bad, but still, the potential was there.” He shrank the space between them even more. “I do know one thing. I didn’t want anything to happen to you today.”
Her mouth went dry, and she swallowed several times. “You don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”
“I know. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to be careful.”
“What are you doing, T.J.?”
“Telling you I care about you.” He ran his free hand through her loose curls.
Her pulse throbbed. “We didn’t work in the past.”
For a long moment, he searched her face as though probing for some insight into what she was thinking. He released his hold on her and stepped back. “You’re right. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, whether it is the client, a spectator or my partner,” he said in a professional voice, erasing the past few minutes as if they hadn’t occurred.
Disappointment flitted down her length. What was going on between T.J. and her? Had what she’d felt the past few moments been her imagination? “I agree.”
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