Читать книгу The Baby's Bodyguard - Alice Sharpe, Alice Sharpe - Страница 8

“What in the hell is going on?” Jack demanded. He’d pulled Hannah to her feet, safety glass tumbling from both their clothes.

“I don’t know,” Hannah said, eyes wide with fear.

“Like hell you don’t.”

Mimi entered from the kitchen. “Look at the window!” she cried and Jack and Hannah both turned to look at the gaping hole where the window had been.

“Did someone shoot it out?”

“I think it was a brick,” Jack said.

Hannah was trying to shake the glass off her clothes as she moved toward the hallway. He heard the cries of a very small baby coming from farther back in the house.

Mimi intercepted her granddaughter. “You’ll get glass all over her. I’ll go.” She hurried off down the hall and Hannah turned to face him.

“Hannah?” he said. “What’s going on?”

It looked as though she wanted to tell him to mind his own business, but this time the flippancy with which she’d treated the car bomb was gone. In fact, the fear in her eyes yanked at him.

“I don’t have the slightest idea.”

“But it’s something that’s been going on for a while, isn’t it?”

“No,” she said, and looked surprised by the idea. And then a knowing look crept into her eyes. “Maybe,” she admitted. “I’m not sure. Nothing like this, though. Well, the break-in, but nothing of consequence was taken. Did you see someone outside before this happened?”

“I saw a car slow down outside and then speed up. What break-in?”

“You have remarkable reflexes,” she said, still dusting glass off her clothes.

“What break-in?”

“It happened before I moved in with Grandma. Someone broke into my old apartment. The police investigated, nothing was taken, that was all there was to it.”

He frowned, trying to make sense of the break-in, the bomb and the broken window and coming up empty. Was it possible the events were related to Tierra Montañosa? Without knowing more about Hannah’s life, how could he make that kind of determination?

He looked around the floor until he found a brick-sized rock under a small table. Crunching glass under his feet, he retrieved the rock, using one of the little doilies that were draped over the arms of the sofa. There was a piece of lined paper tied to the rock with an ordinary-looking length of white string.

“Do you have plastic gloves?” he asked.

She had her head upside down and was shaking out the glass. As she swung her head up and back, her sweater rode up her trim midriff, exposing a creamy strip of skin. With her hair tousled and her clothes askew, she looked as though she’d just gotten out of bed, and once again, his body started a slow burn.

“In the kitchen under the sink,” she said, pulling down on her sweater. “I have to check on Aubrielle.”

With that she disappeared down the hall, the sway of her hips mesmerizing.

“Get a grip,” he mumbled as he shook off most of the glass. Leaving the cloth and rock on top of the television, he moved into the kitchen, where the smell of burned vegetables greeted him. The pan had been taken off the heat but the glob inside it looked pretty horrendous. He’d eaten worse, though.

He found the plastic gloves where Hannah said they were.

Hannah and her grandmother were both back in the living room when he returned. “She went right back to sleep,” Hannah said, pausing to look up from her task. She’d found a broom and a dustpan and was working on sweeping up the glass. A vacuum cleaner sat off to the side, awaiting its turn.

It took him a second to realize she was talking about her baby. He said, “Oh. Good.”

As the cold night blew right into the room through the gaping hole, Jack took time to go outside to Hannah’s grandfather’s shop where Mimi assured him he’d find a roll of plastic and a staple gun. It was killing him not to investigate the note first, but he guessed with a baby in the house, certain protocols had to be observed.

At last things were secure. Hannah insisted on unwrapping the note herself, announcing she was certain she was the intended recipient. As the plastic gloves were two sizes too small for his hands, he didn’t object. He and Mimi crowded around the table where Hannah had settled with the rock.

The paper turned out to be ordinary notebook paper, words cut from a magazine and glued on. It was the message that was startling.

“The bomb wasn’t the work of kids. Stop what you’re doing—or else.”

Swiveling to look at Hannah, Jack and Mimi both said, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Hannah said. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice reflecting the strain of the past hour.

“First the car, then this,” Mimi said.

“This could have hurt someone,” Hannah said. “It could have hurt Aubrielle. Why? I haven’t done anything to anyone.”

“Someone thinks you have,” Jack said.

“Who?”

There was no answer to that and the three of them stared at the note a while longer until Jack added, “How did this person know you think the car bomb was the work of kids?”

“Because that’s what the police told Hannah in the middle of a public parking lot,” Mimi said with a dismissive note in her voice. “Everyone in Allota knows what everyone else knows, more or less.” Pushing herself to her feet, she added, “Listen, you two, I’m starving and my lovely stir-fry is now beyond redemption. We’ll all think better if we eat something. I’m going into town to pick up some Chinese at Shanghai Lo.” She grabbed her keys and handbag off a hook. “Everybody like beef and broccoli? Maybe some wonton soup?”

Jack said, “Fine.” Hannah didn’t seem to hear her grandmother.

Once the older woman was gone, Hannah rubbed her forehead and began pacing the living room. She finally faced Jack. “I have to take a shower and get the rest of the glass out of my hair before the baby wakes up again. Would you mind listening for her? Then you can be on your way.”

He’d rather get into the shower with Hannah. “Sure, I can listen for her.”

Forehead creasing, she said, “Don’t pick her up, though, just bang on the bathroom door.”

“I won’t touch her,” he said with a dry edge to his voice.

When he heard the water running, he did his best not to let his imagination run away with him. He’d taken one shower with Hannah, one very long, languid shower in the middle of a tropical night. He’d lifted her against the aqua tile and she’d wrapped her legs around him. Water had drummed on their heads; he could still see beads of it rolling down her throat and across her breasts. The heat burning between them had rivaled the one hundred percent humidity outside. That particular memory had been his constant companion the first few weeks of captivity.

He heard little mewling sounds and took a deep breath, letting useless memories float away. Time to go see if David’s kid was awake or if he was hearing things.

The only room with a light on turned out to be the pinkest place he’d ever seen. He was almost afraid to enter, but he heard the sound again. Switching on a lamp, he all but tiptoed across the carpet and looked down into the crib.

The baby was so tiny! He stared at her for several moments, transfixed at her absolute vulnerability. He could even see the blue veins under her skin. Her head was covered with a brown fuzz.

She didn’t seem to be actually awake; she was just jerking and making little sounds, screwing her face up and then smiling at nothing, bubbles on her lips. It was the closest he’d ever been to a baby.

David’s baby. Damn.

He’d known David in the Marines. David had been a helicopter pilot, he’d been a sniper, and for a while they’d flown a few missions together. Eventually they lost touch but by then, Jack had seen tendencies in David he hadn’t much liked. A certain disdain for the truth, a predilection for shortcuts that sometimes ended up costing other men dearly, an every-man-for-himself kind of mentality that included money under the table when the opportunity arose.

In a way, maybe it was better David had died. Jack could no more imagine the David he knew being a decent father than he could imagine it of himself. Then again, as he’d recently learned, if a man lived long enough, he had a chance to redeem himself.

Had David done that? With Hannah, he’d earned the trust of a pretty remarkable woman, so maybe he had.

“Is she awake?” Hannah asked from the doorway.

Startled, he turned with a guilty smile. He’d been about to run a finger along Aubrielle’s cheek, curious to know if she was as soft as she looked.

“I think she’s waking up,” he said, and backed away from the crib as though the baby was a ticking bomb about to detonate. Hannah glided past him on the way to her child, the scent of flowers lingering in her wake. She’d changed into black slacks and a black sweater that offset her porcelain skin. Her reddish hair was wet and unexpectedly wavy. She looked fresh and sexy. He had to remind himself to take a breath.

“I know you must have a lot to do,” she said as she reached into the crib and picked up her daughter. She turned to face him and said, “Thanks for the help tonight.”

“Cut it out,” he said.

“Jack—”

“We’re going to talk. I’m not going anywhere until we do.”

She sighed heavily. “I have to nurse the baby. You could wait in the living room—”

“No, you do what you have to do. I’ll turn my back if you want, but we’re going to talk now.” He turned his back and crossed his arms.

After a few seconds of rustling sounds and the creak of rockers, she said, “I’m not going to talk to your back, Jack. Go ahead and turn around.”

He did, leaning against the doorjamb. Hannah was modestly draped in a pink blanket. All Jack could see of Aubrielle was one tiny foot and an equally tiny hand. Determined to set things straight, he said, “You need help, Hannah.”

“No.”

“Whatever is going on is over your head.”

“If you mean I don’t understand why anyone would want to hurt me, yes, you’re right.”

“You know what I find kind of puzzling?”

She looked at him as though worried what he’d say next. “What?”

“You didn’t call the cops about the window.”

“What could they do?”

“Investigate. Take the note and try to trace—”

“White paper and cut-out words? A rock?”

“Ever heard of fingerprints? Tire tracks out on the drive? Neighbors who saw something?”

“Jack, what do you suppose is the first thing the police would do?” When he shrugged in response, she continued. “They would investigate you. You’re new in town. Why are you here, how do you know me, etc. Maybe your false identity would hold up under closer scrutiny, maybe it wouldn’t.”

“That concerns me, not you,” he said.

“Because you’re at my house, it concerns me, too, and what concerns me concerns my baby.”

“Your grandmother can’t file a claim with her home owner’s insurance if she doesn’t report the attack,” he said reasonably.

“She’s afraid to make a claim on her insurance because she’s afraid they’ll cancel her policy. I have an emergency fund. I’ll buy her a new window.”

He let it drop.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she added. “If you leave now, I’ll call the cops and tell them about the window and how I’ve felt as though I’m being watched. I’ll give them the rock and the paper. We won’t have to inform the insurance company if Grandma doesn’t want to, but the authorities will be advised. You’ll get your way.”

He shook his head. “Not until you’re honest with me. I want to know who you’re protecting. I figure it must be someone at the Staar Foundation.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Not that again—”

“I haven’t told you what I saw out in the jungle,” he said.

The baby started crying. Hannah deftly manipulated baby and blanket against her chest and stood. “Turn around so I can fix my bra,” she said.

With an internal smile, he did as she asked. Funny how shy people could be around someone they’d once been so blatantly intimate with.

“Okay,” she said, and patting the baby’s tiny back, demanded, “What did you see?”

He pushed himself away from the jamb. He wished she’d come closer to him so he could speak in a whisper instead of across a room. The things he had to say weren’t the kind of things a man wanted to shout.

As she resettled in the rocker, he looked around the room until he spied a small wooden toy chest. Pulling that close to her chair, he parked himself on top of it, forearms resting on his thighs.

“First of all, the guerillas knew about me. About my training and the fact that I’d been a mercenary for a short time a while ago. They treated me differently than the others, singling me out. At first I thought it was because I spoke the language, but then I realized they were kind of grooming me, seeing if I might turn tail and help them.”

Her eyes grew wide. “What did you do?”

“I had nothing to do with them until after they killed the other hostages. Then I considered the possibility that if I ever wanted to escape, I had better seem to be more cooperative. So I turned into a model prisoner and kept my eyes open.”

“I don’t—”

“I’m going to cut this short. I think the Staar Foundation is the front for the GTM, that they are supporting terrorist schools and camps. I have to find out who is involved and how deeply.”

“That’s absurd. Santi Correa and his son, Hugo, would never—”

“How do you know? How do you really know that?”

She was silent for several seconds. “Couldn’t you just tell our government or the Tierra Montañosa government about your suspicions and let them investigate?”

“The minute the GTM realized I escaped, you can bet the camps I was shown disappeared, but they’re still there, further underground or in a different spot. They were working up to something big. Right before I left, they were practicing some sort of mock invasion or takeover of some kind.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean they practiced entering blocked-off areas that represented buildings and killing and subduing mock representations of people. As for telling our government—governments don’t move fast, they launch studies. Just verifying my true identity and being viewed as a credible witness given the way I entered the country would take forever.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said, “I can see you’re truly concerned about this, but it has nothing to do with what’s happening to me—”

“Doesn’t it? Are you sure?”

He could see by the look in her eyes that she wasn’t sure at all.

He took her free hand in his. “Hannah, even if this is unrelated to you, the fact remains you and your family are in danger. You have to take the threat seriously. You’ve mentioned small things going wrong, but these things today aren’t small, they’re meant to terrify you. The bomb could have easily been big enough to destroy your car and everyone near it. The rock through the window could have been a bullet. Since you aren’t aware of what you’re doing that has someone reacting this way, you can’t even stop doing it.”

“If I go to the police I’ll have to tell them all this,” she countered. “They’ll check into everyone’s lives and if you’re wrong, we could irreparably damage the reputation of a wonderful nonprofit organization. I’m not doubting these schools exist, I’m just doubting your conclusion that the Staar Foundation is connected to them. I’m sure the GTM has camps everywhere.”

“You haven’t been listening to me.”

“Yes, I have, Jack,” she said, and firmly reclaimed her hand. “I’m just not convinced.”

“Then why are you protecting someone?”

“Oh, no, not that again.”

He shook his head. “Listen, no matter what you think, I’m here and I’m not going to go away until I get to the bottom of this.”

“I guess that’s your decision. It doesn’t include me. We had one night a long time ago …”

“Then let me be your bodyguard. That way we can pool what we know, we can work together and I can protect you. I need a place to hang out while I snoop around—”

“No way. I don’t need protection.”

“Really? Do you actually believe that?”

“Of course I believe it. It won’t work. You have to leave.”

“You’re wrong,” came a voice from behind Jack’s back. He swiveled around to find Mimi standing just inside the room.

“Grandma—” Hannah began.

“You’re wrong, Hannah Marie. Ever since your grandpa died and you got pregnant, you’ve been trying to do everything alone. You need help. We need help.”

“Maybe we do,” Hannah said reluctantly, and then with a swift glance at Jack, added, “But not this man.”

Mimi made a big deal of looking around the room and behind her. “Then, which man, Hannah?”

“Grandma—”

“I’ll hire you,” Mimi said, looking directly at Jack.

“You don’t even know Jack Starling,” Hannah muttered.

The older woman nodded abruptly. “You’re right, I don’t. But I like him, and so do you.”

Jack smiled.

“I do not like him,” Hannah grumbled.

“Whatever. Okay, if you won’t allow me to hire him as a bodyguard for you, then I’ll hire him as one for my great-granddaughter. It’ll be good having a man here protecting her. You accept, Mr. Starling?”

“I accept,” Jack said quickly before Hannah could get in another word.