July Flames: A Rock Star Bodyguard Romance (Wilder Irish Book 7)

by Mari Carr

  Hunter glanced around the office. “Wanted to check out Baltimore’s latest security company.”

  Finn pointed to one of the three chairs in the office, claiming another for himself. “We still have a lot to set up and figure out, but it’s getting there. You’re actually our first visitor.”

  Hunter surprised them when he said, “I think I’d like to be your first client.”

  Fergus wasn’t sure what to make of that request. Hunter had a first-rate security team. He knew that for a fact because he’d shadowed Hunter’s security supervisor one day earlier this year, asking countless questions about his role. He and Finn had researched as they’d tried to determine what type of services they wanted to provide. In the end, they’d decided to make their initial focus private investigation—something Fergus had done a great deal of in the military—and event security, perhaps offering things like personal and IT security as the business grew.

  “Client?” Finn asked.

  “Not for me, actually, but for a,” Hunter hesitated briefly, “friend.”

  Something about his tone belied the friend descriptor.

  “What sort of security does your friend need?”

  Hunter leaned back. “A bodyguard.”

  Fergus started to shake his head. Right now, he and Finn were a company of two, looking to hire and train employees. They were nowhere near ready to provide someone with a bodyguard.

  “We’re not really equipped to do that. I mean, we’re still in the building phase. I don’t have anyone employed who could—”

  “No. You misunderstand. I’d need you to be the bodyguard.”

  He laughed. “It’s day one, Hunter. We’re not even out of the starting gate. I can’t leave Finn to—”

  “It’s a short-term gig. Only six weeks. And you wouldn’t just be a bodyguard. There’s some investigation required as well. I heard Pop Pop tell Ailis that was your specialty.”

  “Hunter,” Fergus started again, determined his answer had to be no. It was too soon for him to drop everything for a job like this; his first priority had to be getting the firm rolling. “Maybe if you were coming to us in a few months—”

  Hunter wasn’t deterred. “You and I both know the best way to get business for a company like this is word of mouth. Trust me, if you take this job and do well, you’ll have set Collins Security up for success. Plus, it’s good money. Like, good money.”

  Hunter had clearly been coached by Ailis because damn if he didn’t know all the right things to say. The short time frame, the promotion for the company, and the chance to perhaps pay back some of the money his family had invested were all extremely tempting.

  There had to be a catch.

  “Who would I be guarding?”

  Hunter swallowed heavily, and Fergus realized the other shoe was about to drop.

  “Aubrey Summers.”

  Finn was out of his chair, nearly sending the piece of furniture backwards to the floor. He caught it deftly with one hand as he said, “We’ll take the job. I’ll be her bodyguard.”

  Hunter rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Finn.”

  “Who the hell is Aubrey Summers?” Fergus asked.

  Finn’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? Aubrey Summers, as in Sweet Flames Jenny Sweet?”

  “Am I supposed to know who or what that is?” Fergus felt like he was at least six steps behind on this conversation all of a sudden.

  Finn threw his arms up dramatically. “You really needed sisters, man. You have some serious holes in your pop culture knowledge. Aubrey Summers played Jenny Sweet on the Family Network’s Sweet Flames. Sunnie and Darcy were crazy about it. Never missed an episode. Every now and then we’ll watch the repeats for a lark and sing the songs. It was an awesome show.”

  Hunter grinned at Finn’s enthusiasm. “I didn’t have any sisters, Fergus, and I watched the show. It was about a teen pop star trying to find a normal boyfriend while living a very rich, screwed-up sitcom life. Her band in the show was called Sweet Flames, and she ended every show with a new song.”

  “Why would you watch that?” Fergus asked Hunter. “I can see him being forced to sit through it with sisters, but you’re an only kid.”

  Hunter grinned. “I liked the music. Aubrey wrote all the songs she and Sweet Flames performed on the show, and they were good. She had four albums go platinum before she was nineteen. Got her start when she was just three in commercials, then the Sweet Flames gig came along when she was thirteen. She played Jenny until she was nearly twenty, touring whenever the show was on hiatus. She is a seriously incredible songwriter.”

  “I take it she’s not still on that show?” Fergus wasn’t sure how Hunter knew Aubrey, and why he was hiring a bodyguard for her.

  Finn shook his head, sighing in a way that told Fergus he still hadn’t caught up. “No. The show’s been off the air six years. What the hell do you think repeats are?”

  Fergus leaned back in his chair. “Fine. Got it.”

  Finn continued. “She disappeared for a little while, then reappeared with a new solo album a year or so ago. It did really well, didn’t it?” Finn looked to Hunter to fill in the details of Aubrey Summers since she stopped being a part of Sweet Flames.

  “Yep,” Hunter said. “Her comeback album was off-the-charts amazing. Her star is on the rise again. She had some trouble after the TV show was canceled, bad press, bad luck, bad people in her life.”

  “I think I remember reading about that. Didn’t her mom screw her over or something?” Finn asked.

  Hunter nodded. “Yeah. Her mother, Candace Summers, had been her manager her whole life and basically stole all of Aubrey’s earnings from Sweet Flames and the record sales. Said she was saving and investing for her daughter. Instead, she was taking extravagant trips, buying designer everything and, if the rumors are right, financing several lovers as well.”

  “Wow. Who robs from their own kid?” Fergus mused.

  “Aubrey is on tour with me right now because we share a record label. According to Ailis, Aubrey requested to join the tour herself, which shocked me. She’s a way bigger name than me. She replaced Jules Shaw after she fell during a big number and broke her leg and arm a couple of months ago. Adding Aubrey saved the tour. Hell, it took it to the next level. We’re sharing the headline, and every show since she was announced as the replacement has sold out. We’ve even added extra concerts. All of them sold out as well.”

  Hunter was doing a huge cross-country tour. Fergus recalled meeting Jules just briefly when he’d shadowed the security supervisor back in early March. A few nights after his visit, there’d been a mishap with some faulty lift equipment onstage and Jules had taken a nasty fall. The news said she’d been nearly a story and a half above the stage when the rigging failed.

  “Man,” Finn said, clearly still suffering from some leftover teenage hormones in regards to Aubrey Summers. “You gotta let me do this, Hunter.”

  Hunter didn’t reply. Instead, he looked at Fergus for help.

  “Finn, you’re the office manager, remember?” Fergus said. And while Finn said he was okay with that, he had asked Fergus to teach him about guns and police procedures. The two of them—plus Landon, and Landon’s partner on the force, Miguel—had a standing Wednesday-night routine where they’d gather in the Collins Dorm, push back all the living room furniture and go through a training session together.

  It hadn’t taken more than three Wednesdays for them to decide Finn was probably safest behind a desk.

  “You’ve been to the shooting range with me less than a dozen times and we’re only a third of the way through the lessons on restraints.”

  “But, Fergus—”

  “Besides,” Fergus continued, “you’re clearly infatuated with her. It’s bad form to drool while on guard duty.”

  Hunter laughed.

  Fergus leaned forward. The dots weren’t connecting. “I’m still not sure why you’re here. Doesn’t she have her own people
who should be doing this?”

  “It’s not Aubrey who’s hiring you. Like I said, she and I have the same record label. I dropped your name to a couple of the bigwigs during a meeting last week. They’re concerned about a…situation. Something they’re trying to keep out of the tabloids, something they’d like you to investigate while guarding her. It’s, um…”

  Hunter kept pausing, stalling.

  “Just say it, Hunter. What’s going on with this woman?”

  “She’s still in the middle of a sticky lawsuit with her mother over all the money the woman stole when she was her manager. It’s been dragging on for years. Then she caught her fiancé in bed with her mother this past Christmas. There was also this nasty scene a couple of weeks ago, where she punched her bodyguard. He’s suing for assault and battery, while she’s claiming he sexually assaulted her first. People are questioning her story because she was extremely intoxicated at the time, and she’s sort of famous for her temper. She’s broken a lot of shit.”

  Fergus took a moment to digest all that.

  Before he could speak, Finn sat back down. “Yeah, I think you should be the bodyguard, Fergus. I’ll keep things rolling here.”

  Hunter chuckled, but Fergus didn’t find much to laugh about. Their company needed the money and experience. Working as a bodyguard for Aubrey Summers would certainly be a great resume builder for them.

  “Who am I investigating? The former bodyguard or the mother?”

  Hunter shook his head. “No. I actually haven’t gotten to the bad part yet.”

  “All of that wasn’t the bad part?” Finn asked dramatically, his eyebrows nearly touching his hairline. “Jesus H.”

  “Finn.” Fergus raised his hand to quiet his cousin down. Sometimes he was grateful for Finn’s ability to express his emotions so freely. He called things as he saw them, and Fergus was a big fan of knowing exactly where he stood. At other times—like now—his outbursts made it hard for Fergus to maintain his objectivity and reason things out. “What needs to be investigated?”

  “This is the part the record producers want to keep under wraps. We think that Aubrey has acquired a stalker.”

  “You think?” Fergus asked. “That seems like something you would know one way or the other.”

  “There have been a couple incidents. A couple of weeks after Aubrey joined the tour, we were playing a show in St. Louis. Chaifetz Arena. One of the security guards on an upper level was badly injured during the last song when someone rolled an M80 at him. The noise of the concert—the music, as well as the crowd screaming—was deafening, so only the people in that section heard the thing go off, and even a lot of them weren’t sure what it was. The guard was stationed near an exit, so it was easy to extract him without too many people realizing anything had even happened.”

  Finn blew out a loud breath. “How bad was he hurt?”

  “The thing exploded right under him, catching his pants on fire. He suffered some pretty serious second- and third-degree burns.”

  “And no one saw who threw it?” Fergus asked.

  Hunter shook his head.

  “That hardly proves Aubrey has a stalker.”

  “I know. Except that same security guard made some big display of kissing her hand just before the show, and later he was loudly boasting to the crew as well as fans that he and Aubrey always hooked up after the concerts.”

  “Still nothing,” Fergus said.

  “Then, a rose was tossed on the stage right after her show. Not uncommon. There are always more than a few flowers…but one of the others had a note attached to them. One of the stagehands always gathers the flowers and arranges them in bouquets for Aubrey. She found the note. It said, ‘He’ll never touch you again.’”

  Fergus leaned back and considered that. “What else?”

  “We were in Palm Springs for a show a couple of weeks ago. That’s where the incident with the bodyguard went down. After the argument between he and Aubrey, the cops were called in, they took both their statements, and the bodyguard was relieved of duty. The event organizers arranged to have a rental car delivered to the theater so the bodyguard could drive himself to the airport. It caught fire just a few miles away from the concert venue. The bodyguard managed to pull over and get out, but it was a close call.”

  “Could have been faulty wiring.”

  “According to the rental place, it was a brand-new car. Police investigated the fire and said the vehicle had been tampered with.”

  “Let me guess…there was another rose,” Fergus added.

  Hunter nodded. “This rose was left outside the door of her tour bus that same night.”

  “Isn’t that guarded?”

  “The lot where it was parked is, but not the actual bus. No one was inside and it was locked up tight as a drum. No one saw anyone approach it.”

  “No cameras on the lot?”

  “Only one that pointed to that area. It was disabled.”

  “What did the note on the second rose say?”

  “Same. ‘He’ll never touch you again.’”

  Fergus leaned his elbow on the desk, jotting down the words from both notes. “Sounds like someone on the crew rather than a crazed fan,” he mused.

  Hunter had obviously considered that. “Yeah. That’s what we’re thinking too, but this is a big show, like sixty-plus crew members—lighting technicians, sound guys, security detail, stage managers and hands, pyrotechnicians. Plus two bands—mine and Aubrey’s—makeup artists, truck and bus drivers, merchandise vendors.”

  “Only those two incidents?” Fergus wasn’t sure that was enough to prove there was a stalker.

  “Aubrey was the one who found the rose after the bodyguard incident. She disregarded it until she heard about the car fire. She came to me and Ailis the next morning with the note…along with three others that had been attached to roses delivered to her over the course of her two months on the tour.”

  “Did they all say the same thing?”

  Hunter shook his head. “No. All the other notes said, ‘We’ll be together soon,’ but they were in the same handwriting.”

  “What does Aubrey say? Does she have any suspects?”

  Hunter grimaced. “Honestly, I’m not sure. She was a bit freaked out—and hungover—the morning she brought us the notes. I told her we should call the cops, but she started backpedaling big-time. By the time she left my bus, she’d convinced herself both events were accidents and the notes meant nothing.”

  “That’s kinda weird. She has to know something sketchy and potentially dangerous is going on.”

  Hunter’s expression was somewhat resigned. “You have to know Aubrey. The woman is…well, she’s hard to get close to. And then there’s her ex.”

  Fergus sighed. There were too many suspects and not enough evidence. “What about him?”

  “He keeps popping up at random shows, begging to talk to Aubrey. Apparently, he regrets cheating with her mother and wants Aubrey back.”

  “Was he in St. Louis and Palm Springs?”

  Hunter nodded. “Yeah, but he’s shown up for at least half a dozen other shows as well, where nothing has happened.”

  “Was he there when the other notes appeared?”

  “Aubrey wasn’t sure, and she says the handwriting on the notes isn’t the ex’s.”

  Fergus considered everything Hunter had told him. “Who’s her current bodyguard?”

  Hunter glanced at Finn, then back at him. “I realize I’m probably not selling this very well.”

  “Hunter,” Fergus prodded.

  “She’s been through eight since firing the one she hit. Fires them almost daily. She’s imploding—drinking too much, screaming at everyone. That’s why the CEO of Villatore Records, Isaac Villatore, doesn’t want word of this to get out. Her popularity stems from the TV show, so the label is projecting that image of her. She’s supposed to be Jenny Sweet, the girl next door, not some wine-guzzling, angry, abusive diva.”

  “You’re right,” Fe
rgus said. “You’re not selling this well.”

  Hunter shrugged. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think she’s as bad as people say.”

  “Is that hunch based on residual teenage hormones?” Fergus joked.

  “No. There’s something about her. Don’t get me wrong. The woman is seriously prickly.” Hunter shrugged. “Aubrey is more than capable of eviscerating anyone who pisses her off, but part of me feels like the bitch routine is just an act.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. It sounds like she has plenty to be angry about. So, what’s to keep her from firing me?” Fergus wasn’t about to disrupt setting up the business for a bratty pop star, especially if she was going to toss him out on his ear five minutes after he got there.

  “I told you. She’s not hiring you. The label is. They’re the only ones who can fire you—and they won’t.”

  “What did you tell them about me?” Fergus couldn’t understand why a multimillion-dollar record label would come to a fresh-out-of-the-gate security company from Baltimore. There were bigger-name security businesses out there who could handle something like this.

  “I told them the truth. That you’re ex-military, no-nonsense and a top-notch investigator. Said you were conscientious and discreet. Ailis and Pop Pop have bragged about all your military honors for years, so I threw those in the mix. I wouldn’t throw you to the wolves if I didn’t think you could handle it.”

  “In other words, none of the legit companies will take the job.”

  He sighed. “Several of them have. Those are the bodyguards she’s fired. Word is out on her now. No one will touch this job with a ten-foot pole.”

  “Great,” Fergus muttered.

  Hunter gave him a sympathetic shrug. “If it helps, Aubrey and Ailis have forged a bit of a friendship…if you can call it that. I think it actually falls along the lines of Aubrey tolerating Ailis, but you know that cousin of yours. She goes through life believing there’s nothing a Collins can’t fix, and she’s made Aubrey a project.”

  Fergus chuckled. “She gets that from Pop Pop.”

  Hunter gave him a rueful grin. “I’ve been around both of them long enough that I believe it too. My gut tells me the girl who wrote all those incredible songs when she was Jenny Sweet is still in there somewhere.”