Her head knew it, but her heart was having trouble getting with the program.
#
Mason dropped Cassidy and Colin off at the studio so they could pick up their vehicles. Cassidy had programmed her address into his GPS, but he planned on following her to make sure nothing happened. He’d be driving her back and forth from now on.
He’d taxied Sawyer and Harlow to their hotel, but felt bad about leaving them in the lurch when he confiscated the SUV to drive to the hospital. While he’d been waiting for Cassidy to be released, Sawyer texted him. Their office manager BeBe had come through as always, having an identical vehicle delivered to the hotel for Sawyer and Harlow’s use.
Cassidy climbed into a red Rav4 and started the engine. Colin hobbled to a silver Prius and after stuffing the crutches in the back, he awkwardly tried to fold himself inside. Mason probably should’ve helped the guy, but Cassidy was backing out and she was his priority. Traffic was heavy as they traversed Santa Monica Boulevard. His brows lifted when she signaled and then turned into a parking lot close to the beach. The sunshine yellow, two-story building was older and looked like it might’ve been a hotel at one time, but it was landscaped nicely and there was even a small pool in the center of the parking area. In the middle of the building, a set of outdoor steps led to the second level surrounded by black wrought iron railings. Cassidy pulled into her assigned space while he motored past and found a spot reserved for visitors. He rolled out and reached into the back seat for his go-bag. It would do until he could pick up the rest of his belongings from the hotel.
“What’s that for?” Cassidy asked when he approached.
“I’m staying here with you.”
Her eyes widened, and she glanced from his bag to his face. “You…ah…what?”
“You’re my client and I’ve been hired to protect you. That means I’m your shadow. Did you think I’d just see you home and leave?”
“Well, yeah.” She gestured towards the building. “My place is tiny and I already have one guest staying with me. Colin’s crashing on the sofa for a few days.”
“Then I’ll take the floor.” It wasn’t a great choice, but he’d certainly slept in worse places during his military career, some that still gave him nightmares.
“Oh, well, um, okay. Follow me.”
She turned and headed for the stairs. He tried to keep his gaze off her heart-shaped behind as she climbed the risers, he really did. But he was a red-blooded male and his eyes had a mind of their own. She turned left at the top and headed for the next to last door. Glancing at him nervously, she inserted the key and opened it. He followed her into a narrow hallway painted white, past an opening that led to a small kitchen and then into one room featuring a couch and television mounted on the wall. A bar with two stools separated the room from the kitchen. The apartment was tastefully decorated in beach tones, but it was the wall of windows that was the showstopper. The blue waters of the Pacific crashed against a sandy beach. A sliding glass door led to a balcony, outfitted with a small table flanked by two reclining chairs. The railing was made of plexiglass, allowing an unobstructed view. A concrete divider separated her from her neighbor on the left.
“This is nice.”
She followed his gaze. “That’s what sold me on the place. Sometimes I fall asleep on the balcony, listening to the waves. There isn’t much room in here, but then, I don’t need much.”
He noticed a small alcove off to one side. “Is that the bedroom?”
“Uh, yes.” Her cheeks pinkened prettily. “And the bathroom.”
“I need to look around to familiarize myself with the layout.”
“Oh, sure. Go ahead.”
As he walked closer, he noticed another door across from the bedroom. He twisted the knob and peered into a small bathroom that featured a tub-shower combo, sink and toilet. Functional, but no frills. He closed the door and opened the other to reveal a room dominated by a queen-sized bed and another wall of windows. The balcony extended to the bedroom, with another sliding glass door for access. A concrete wall blocked off this end as well, so the balcony was enclosed on both sides, providing complete privacy from neighbors on either side.
The bed was covered in a white spread, with light blue and green pillows placed on top. A dresser was positioned across from the bed, with a television above. Her closet was small and packed to the ceiling, but neat and orderly. He checked the sliding glass door. The lock was standard, but he was happy to see a board in the tracks to deter burglars.
He bent down to remove the stick and slid the glass panes aside. Stepping onto the concrete patio, the smell hit him first: clean ocean air and the scent of grilled hamburgers. The crash of the waves pounding the surf was hypnotic, and he understood her falling asleep listening to the sound. The beach was busy, but not overly-crowded. A sidewalk separated the apartment from the sand, and it was occupied by joggers, people walking dogs and riding bikes.
He checked the dividers on each side, happy to see that they both reached the roof. Sticking his head over the railing, he judged the distance to the other side. The divider was about six inches thick, so it was possible someone could climb around from either of the adjoining apartments. He typed notes into his iPhone of supplies he’d need to secure the apartment. He’d check with Sawyer and get his opinion on attaching a roll-bar across the top of the rail that would deter unwanted visitors, along with wall spikes. It might seem like overkill, but he wasn’t taking chances. Peering over the side, he eyed the distance to the lower level. The solid plexiglass made it almost impossible for anyone to climb up from the ground. There was nothing to latch onto if they tried to scale the building.
Next, he checked the lock on the other sliding glass door. Also standard. Cassidy opened it from the inside. As soon as he stepped across the threshold, she slid the screen door in place.
“Do you keep the stick in the track when you have the screen door open?”
She shook her head. “Only the glass.”
“You need to start putting it in at all times.” It wouldn’t stop someone with a knife from cutting the screen, but it might make enough noise to alert them to the impending threat.
“What if someone had a knife and just cut the mesh?” she asked, mirroring his thoughts.
“Until we find out who’s stalking you, either the doors stay closed, or we could get a longer stick that will allow a shallow opening so you can hear the waves, but not enough that someone could climb through.”
“Yes, that. I need the sound of the water. It helps me sleep.”
He added a longer stick to his iPhone list. There were no windows since she was between two units, which was a plus. He headed to the front door. “No security system?”
“No.”
Besides the standard issue lock, she also had a deadbolt. Good, but not great. Someone with enough strength could bust the door open. He made notes to add stronger locks, as well as a security system.
“I do have this.” She held up a two by four piece of wood with a notch cut into the top. “My dad made me this when I moved out here.” She slid it under the door handle and kicked it into place.
He nodded. Nice. A cheap, effective deterrent. It wouldn’t stop a determined intruder, but it’d slow him down.
He took in the apartment again. No fireplace meant no chimney to worry about. No skylights. Just the balconies. “Who has a key to your apartment?”
“My parents, Tandi, oh, and Colin.”
As if to illustrate her answer, a key jiggled in the door and then a muffled thump sounded, followed by a curse.
Cassidy’s wide eyes met his. “Oops.” She kicked the board aside and whipped open the door. Colin lay sprawled on the ground, his crutches askew.
He lifted his head and pinned them with a confused look. “What the hell, Cassidy? I think I broke my nose.”
Mason shook his head. The guy was a drama queen. It wasn’t even bleeding.
Cassidy scrambled to his side. “I’m so sorr
y.” She started to help him up but Mason nudged her aside.
“I’ve got him.”
He lifted Colin to his feet and waited while Cassidy gathered the crutches and handed them to him.
Colin rubbed his nose. “What happened? Why didn’t the door open?”
“We were going over security precautions,” Mason told him.
Colin hobbled inside, followed by Cassidy. He entered last and relocked the door. Colin had difficulty navigating the narrow hallway, having to turn his body sideways to fit the crutches through the space. Mason wondered how he’d managed the steps outside. He finally made his way to the couch and flopped down with a lengthy sigh.
Mason was both annoyed and glad the man was staying with Cassidy. Annoyed because Colin had already demonstrated his fierce protectiveness, so he might get in Mason’s way. Plus, he was taking the only other comfortable sleeping surface in the apartment. On the flip side, his presence meant Mason wouldn’t give in to the explosive desire he felt for Cassidy and suggest they share her bed.
He turned to her and lowered his voice. “I need to ask you some questions that might be personal. Do you want to do it here?” He didn’t say in front of Colin, but she understood his intention.
She leaned close to whisper, “Can we take a walk on the beach?”
“Sure.”
“Colin, we’re going to take a walk. We’ll be back soon.”
His head popped over the back of the couch. “Wait, I’ll go with you.”
“No, you stay here and rest your knee. We won’t be long. Do you want us to pick up something for you to eat?”
He punched the remote to activate the television. “Nah, I hit a drive thru on the way here. Take your time. I’ll see you later.”
Mason held the door open for her and then followed her outside. It might be a mistake walking alone with her along the beach when he was so attracted to her, but he couldn’t muster the energy to care.
Chapter 8
Cassidy was hyper-aware of Mason behind her as she descended the stairs. She was hyper-aware of him at all times. He was just so…larger than life. Not only was he tall and broad, but his presence commanded attention. If Colin hadn’t been staying with her, she might’ve done something monumentally stupid and propositioned her sexy bodyguard.
He waited until they were on the path before he spoke. “Earlier you said Tandi had a key to your place. Who’s Tandi?”
How to explain her flamboyant, eccentric neighbor? “Tandi Tremane. She lives next door. She watches over my place when I travel.”
“Do you trust her?”
“Absolutely.”
He slowed his pace to match hers and they strolled leisurely along the winding sidewalk. They were passed by runners and people on bikes, scooters and skateboards, but the walkway was large enough to accommodate everyone.
“I’m going to make some changes to your security. I’ll be replacing the locks and adding an alarm. Until we catch this guy, I don’t want you giving out a key or the code to anyone.”
“What about Colin?”
“He’ll only be here a couple more days, right?”
“Yes, he’s going home the day after opening night.”
“Then he doesn’t need it.”
“Okay.” Colin would probably argue, but she’d defer to Mason. He was the expert. “How do you know it’s a he?”
“Excuse me?”
“You said, “until we catch this guy.” I just wondered why you thought it was a man?” Especially since she had her share of female adversaries.
He hitched a shoulder. “Just going with statistics.” He glanced down at her. “Do you think it could be a woman?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“Any enemies that would want to hurt you?”
She had her share of fan letters, some creepy and others downright sick. Some people didn’t like that she broke up with Marcus and they blamed her. Others sent proposals of marriage or their underwear. Gross. She’d even had to serve restraining orders to two separate stalkers. “There are people who dislike me, but I don’t think enough to want me dead.” She hoped.
“Let’s start with those first.”
She inhaled deeply. “A man started sending me really disturbing letters two years ago, calling himself my husband. He talked about us going away and spending the rest of our lives together with our three children. He’d even named them. Then he started showing up at the studio, trying to talk his way inside by telling the guards we were married. One night, he followed me to the grocery store and he wouldn’t leave me alone. I tried to get him to leave, but he started to get angry, accusing me of having an affair. He was seriously twisted. Luckily, an off-duty cop oversaw the exchange and escorted him out. He made sure I made it to my car safely and then encouraged me to take out a restraining order, which I did. Surprisingly, it worked, and he left me alone.”
“What’s his name?”
“Kurt Samuels. He moved on from me to an actress and he broke into her home. He was arrested and committed to a facility. He hung himself soon after.”
Mason typed notes on his iPhone. “Who else?”
“There was an assistant producer last year who kept asking me out. I turned down his advances, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He became obsessive, following me and sending gifts, some very inappropriate, like sexy lingerie. I repeatedly asked him to stop, but he didn’t listen. It was bad enough that we worked together, but every time I turned around, he was there, whether it was a restaurant or the bank. Then one day, he cornered me in one of the studios. Thankfully, one of the cameramen came in before anything could happen and scared him off. But that was the last straw. I went to Russell and told him what had been happening. He flipped out, firing him on the spot and calling security to immediately escort him from the premises. I took out a restraining order on him, too, in case he tried to come after me. It seemed to shock some sense into him. He hasn’t bothered me again.”
“What’s this joker’s name?”
“Barry Nelson. After Russell blackballed him, he couldn’t find work in town cleaning toilets. He had to take a job producing community theater in San Diego.”
Mason tapped more notes. “I’ll verify his whereabouts. Who else?”
“There are three…well, now two of the pros on the show who never warmed up to me, or any of the newer dancers. When I first started, things would happen like my dance shoes would go missing or my outfit. I didn’t have proof it was them, but I’m pretty certain. Russell found out and sat everyone down and told them if we couldn’t get along, he’d be forced to make changes. The hazing stopped after that, but not the snide comments or snarky smiles and whispering. I learned to ignore them and to always lock my trailer. That’s why I don’t think someone planted the snake. It had to have crawled in on its own.”
“I don’t think so. We checked for any holes that it could crawl through and didn’t find any. Also, the snake wasn’t native to this area. Someone could’ve dumped a pet, I guess.” He tapped some more on his iPhone screen. “Who are the dancers that cause problems?”
“Irina Dubov and Bryan Bergan. They treat all the newer dancers the same way. Irina is the ringleader. Bryan worships the ground she walks on and would jump off a cliff if she told him to. I don’t think he’s ever had an original thought in his head.”
“You said three but now two. Who was the other one?”
“Lacy Brubeck. She was a pro on the show until a few weeks ago. I’m not sure why she was let go, but Irina accused me of getting her fired. While I wasn’t a fan of hers, I would never petition for someone to be fired unless there was good reason. Her disliking me wasn’t enough cause.”
More tapping. “Who else?”
She cringed. He made it sound like she had a fleet of enemies, which now that she thought about it… “People weren’t happy when I dated Marcus.”
She glanced at Mason to see his reaction—only he wasn’t there. She spun around. He’d quit walking, quit
typing. He was staring at her like she’d grown two heads.
“Marcus Howe? Harlow’s partner?”
“Yes.”
“You dated him?”
“Yes.”
His eyes narrowed. “How serious?”
She lifted her shoulders. “Not very. I had a crush on him growing up and when he asked me out, I was flattered. It only lasted about a month.”
“Hum.” He started typing again.
Now it was her turn to narrow her eyes. Of course, the effect was ruined since he was staring intently at his phone. “Mason.”
He looked up, his brows raised.
“What did that hum mean?”
“What hum?”
“The one you let out just now.”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“Fine. I just thought the guy was gay,” he muttered under his breath.
She smiled sadly. She didn’t think Marcus was gay—she knew it for certain. She’d heard whispers over the years but didn’t believe them until she dated him. Others knew or guessed. Only Marcus didn’t realize, or more likely, accept it. He overcompensated by trying to present himself to the world as a lady-killer. He flirted with anyone with two X chromosomes, serial dated, rarely spent the night alone.
“Who wasn’t happy you dated?”
“His fan club, mostly. They crucified me in chat room and online forums. I got hate mail. That season, the show made action figure dolls of us and some disgruntled fans sent mine back to me in separate envelopes for each of the body parts.”
“That’s quite disturbing.”
To say the least. They started walking down the path again. “Yeah. But the hoopla wore down. Marcus started dating Britt, the newest dancer and I was forgotten.” He tried to date all the new women, but none lasted more than a few weeks. Britt hadn’t returned the following season and Cassidy wondered if Marcus was the reason. He’d be setting his sights on Emma soon. She made a mental note to have a talk with the young woman.
Last Dance (COBRA Securities Book 14) Page 7