Читать книгу GI Cowboy - Delores Fossen - Страница 12

With his gun aimed and ready, Parker inched inside Bailey’s office. His gaze whipped to all the corners. Then to her desk that had been tipped onto its side. Papers and her laptop were now in a heap on the floor.

Two chairs had also been overturned, and the room had generally been trashed. But what was missing was the person who’d done all of this.

Parker walked farther into the room toward a storage closet.

Also vandalized.

The small adjoining bathroom hadn’t escaped, either. Someone had poured out the liquid soap. And then he spotted the open window on the far wall. When he got closer, he saw the ladder propped up against the side of the building. Probably the point of entry and escape.

He glanced back at Bailey to let her know the place was clear, that her stalker was likely long gone, but the look on her face had Parker walking toward her. There was no color left in her cheeks, and her blue eyes were wide with shock. She was breathing way too hard and fast, and he didn’t want to risk her hyperventilating.

Parker caught onto her and pulled her back into the hall. But she maneuvered herself out of his grip and returned to her office. She was still visibly upset, but he could see the initial shock had worn off.

Bailey stood there, her back to him, her upper body moving with her still heavy breath. She was literally the only spot of order in the room. If it hadn’t been for the mess around her, she would have looked ready for a staff meeting in her perfectly fitted turquoise top and gray pants. There wasn’t a strand of her dark blond shoulder-length hair out of place.

“You still think you don’t need a bodyguard?” Parker asked.

Yeah, it wasn’t a nice question, but he couldn’t play nice here with Bailey and her safety. He needed her to understand how the slashed tires and hang-up calls could escalate.

And now she was looking at proof of that escalation.

She didn’t acknowledge his question. Instead, she stooped down and reached for a framed photo.

“Don’t touch anything,” Parker warned. “The sheriff will probably want to process the scene for prints or other evidence.”

Her hand froze, and Parker saw then that it was a picture of Bailey, her mother and her two siblings. The glass and frame had both been shattered.

Parker kept an eye on her and called Sheriff Bernard Hale. Freedom’s police department wasn’t exactly large or cutting edge, but he’d already had several discussions with Sheriff Hale and knew the man would do his best to find something, anything, that would help identify the person who was trying to make Bailey’s life a living hell.

“The sheriff’s coming out now,” Parker informed her after he made the call. He slipped his phone back in his pocket, caught her arm again and took her out of the room. “Is there a way for you to get in touch with your staff and students so you can tell them not to come in today?”

Well, that put the color back in her cheeks. “That won’t be necessary. It’s obvious the stalker’s not here. It’s also obvious that his venom is aimed only at me.”

“For now,” Parker mumbled. “But it could get worse.”

“I don’t want to close Cradles to Crayons,” she snapped. “I’ll add security. There’s a system already wired in, but we don’t normally use it. We will now. And maybe I can hire you to watch the place.”

Parker gave her a flat look. “I already have a job.”

“That’s debatable.” She mirrored his flat look.

Oh, no. They weren’t going back to that argument. “How can you say that after seeing this?”

Bailey opened her mouth, closed it and then huffed. “I know I sound like a lunatic, but I can’t let this control my life—”

The sound shot through the room. Bailey gasped and then mumbled some profanity when she realized that it was just the phone ringing. It was on the floor but obviously still working.

“Don’t go in there to answer it,” Parker reminded her when she moved to do just that.

While the phone continued to ring, Parker had another look around. There were other rooms on the top floor, but nothing in them appeared to have been disturbed.

The phone finally stopped ringing, and Bailey’s answering machine kicked on. “Hi, you’ve reached Bailey Lockhart at Cradles to Crayons Day Care and Preschool,” the recorded message said. Man, her voice was downright perky. “I’m not in my office right now, but please leave a message, and I’ll get back to you. Have a nice day.”

After the beep, Parker heard the caller. “Where are you, Bailey?” the woman asked. She wasn’t nearly as cheerful as Bailey’s recorded message, but he recognized the voice—it was Lila Lockhart, Bailey’s mother. “If you’re there, pick up…Bailey?”

Bailey took out her cell. “I’ll call her,” she grumbled. “I want to talk to her anyway, about you.”

But before she could do that, Lila continued, “Look, I know you’re probably angry about the bodyguard I hired, but it was necessary. And I knew you’d be too stubborn to hire him yourself. How did I possibly give birth to such a bullheaded daughter who won’t listen to reason?”

Bailey’s mouth tightened. Her eyes narrowed a bit.

“Oh, well,” Lila added. “You’re obviously in a snit right now, but get over it, sweetheart. It’s not as if I saddled you with a Neanderthal. Bart sent me Parker Mc Kenna’s photo and his bio. In addition to being incredibly easy on the eyes, he’s a decorated army officer….”

Hell. Parker didn’t need to hear this, and judging from Bailey’s expression, her mother’s opinion of his looks and his military record weren’t helping with his argument to convince her that she did indeed need him.

“I’ll wait downstairs for Sheriff Hale,” Parker mumbled to Bailey.

But on the way down the steps, he could still hear Lila’s voice oozing through the answering machine. “Parker took a bullet for the Under Secretary of Defense a few years ago when things went bad on a hush-hush visit to the Middle East. It shouldn’t be too difficult having him around. In fact, he’s a good catch, and you’re not getting any younger—”

Thankfully, the machine clipped off the rest of what the governor had to say. Also thankfully, Parker heard someone at the front door. Probably the sheriff who could take a stab at talking some sense into Bailey. But when he looked out the small sidelight window, he didn’t see Sheriff Hale. He saw the woman with red hair fumbling with her keys.

Parker unlocked the door and opened it. The woman went stiff when she saw his gun, and she sucked in her breath. “Who are you?”

“Parker McKenna. I’m Bailey’s bodyguard. Who are you?”

“Charlotte Manning. I work here, and I usually come in through the back entrance, but I wanted to see Bailey first. Where is she? Is she all right?”

Since this woman didn’t seem much a threat, Parker put his gun back in his boot holster and hitched his thumb toward the stairs. “She’s in her office. Someone broke in and vandalized it.”

“A break-in?” However, Charlotte didn’t wait for him to confirm it or that Bailey was all right. She mumbled an Oh, God and went racing up the stairs.

Hopefully, this Charlotte Manning could make Bailey understand how serious this situation was.

And another possible ally arrived.

Parker saw the sheriff’s car pull to a quick stop in front of the building. Parker recognized the African-American man who exited. Sheriff Bernard Hale. He was in his late forties and had been sheriff for years. Plenty of experience and he knew Bailey. Hopefully, he could accomplish more than her mother’s call had.

“Captain McKenna,” Bernard greeted when the sheriff reached the front door, and he shook Parker’s hand. “Good to see you again.”

“Parker,” he offered.

“I got over here as fast as I could. You think this is related to that car you showed me on the surveillance film?” the sheriff asked.

“Yeah, I think it probably is.” And he was about to give the sheriff what few details he knew about the break-in. However, his phone rang, and when Parker saw the identity of the caller, he knew he had to answer it. “Bailey’s upstairs. If you need me, just let me know.”

“Zach?” Parker answered the moment the sheriff stepped away. “What’s wrong?”

The question was a given, especially since his son rarely called him. Heck, Zach rarely spoke to him, especially since this move to Freedom. Parker loved his son more than life itself, but he was positive Zach didn’t feel the same about him.

“You forgot to leave the money for basketball camp,” Zach snarled. Or maybe it wasn’t a snarl. Come to think of it, that was the only tone Parker had heard his son use in years.

Parker groaned. Yes, he had forgotten, though Zach had left him a reminder note taped to the fridge. His son needed twenty-five dollars for a half-day camp being held at the town’s community center.

“You said I could go,” Zach accused. “You said you’d leave the money.”

Yes, he had—Zach’s request and his approval had also been delivered in notes they’d left for each other. And Parker had meant to put the money on the kitchen counter, but this morning he’d gotten caught up viewing those surveillance disks, and then he had rushed out of the house so he could follow Bailey from her home to work. He’d been doing that for over a week now in the hopes of not just protecting her but also catching her stalker.

“I’m at Cradles to Crayons on Main Street,” Parker explained. He heard footsteps behind him, turned and spotted Bailey and Charlotte making their way down the stairs. “And I can’t leave right now. I’m on the job.” Whether Bailey considered it a job or not.

Parker obviously couldn’t see his son’s face, but he heard Zach’s silent disapproval. Of course, Zach disapproved of everything, so this was nothing new. “I’ll ride my bike over there and get it.”

Since their new house was only a quarter mile away, Parker couldn’t object. Well, he could because he was always worried when Zach was on his bike and near traffic.

Heck, he was always worried about him, period.

But he wanted Zach to attend that camp. It was a chance for him to meet some new friends before school started in mid-August, just six weeks away. God knew his son needed someone to help him adjust to the move and yet another new school.

“Zach, when you get here, don’t come inside.” Parker didn’t want Zach underfoot during the sheriff’s investigation, not that his son would want to be underfoot anyway. “I’ll meet you on the porch. Oh, and remember to wear your helmet and watch out for cars.”

“Right.” More of the snarling tone, and he hung up.

“Your son’s coming here?” he heard Bailey ask.

“He won’t stay long,” Parker settled for saying. He hadn’t wanted her to hear any of that conversation. “Have you changed your mind about closing down for the day?”

“No.” Bailey folded her arms over her chest and shook her head, causing her silver hoop earrings to dangle against her hair and ears. “It’s too late to call everyone. Parents are already on their way. Besides, if the children don’t come here, a lot of the parents would have to miss work.” She glanced at Charlotte as if seeking approval.

Charlotte didn’t exactly give that approval. She looked shaken up, and rightfully so. “I need to go to the preschool and unlock the door.”

Parker knew the preschool section was in the back of the building, an addition that Bailey had added on to accommodate the classes. “You can’t access the preschool from inside this building?”

Charlotte shook her head. “We have a door that leads from here to there, but it’s blocked off right now for a construction project. We’re adding another bathroom. It’s no big deal. I’ll just go outside and around back.”

“I’ll go with you so I can make sure no one broke into that area,” Parker offered.

“If they had broken in, it would have set off the security alarms,” Charlotte explained. “And the company that monitors it would have called either Bailey or me.”

“You use the security system?” Parker asked.

Charlotte nodded. “Just in that area and the basement. It has its own separate system that was added when it was built. We have a lot of computers and other equipment, and what with the older kids out of school for summer break, I didn’t want to tempt anyone with sticky fingers.”

“Smart move.” Parker made sure he looked at Bailey when he said that.

Charlotte gave Bailey’s arm a pat and shot him a glare, probably for the insult he’d just given her boss, and Charlotte headed back out the front door. Parker didn’t close it behind her because he wanted to watch for Zach. It wouldn’t take his son long to get here.

“Did the sheriff find anything yet?” Parker asked Bailey.

“No.” She looked up at him, shrugged. “But we might get lucky.”

“You already were lucky. Lucky that you weren’t here when your stalker broke in.”

Though Parker doubted that would have happened. No. This guy was a coward and had waited until a time when he was sure he wouldn’t be caught. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be very dangerous.

Bailey blinked hard, and he realized she was blinking back tears. “I can’t let this control me. I can’t let my mother do that, either. You don’t know her. She’s a good woman, and she’s been good for the state of Texas, but when it comes to her kids, especially me, she’s a micromanaging control freak.”

“That bad, huh?” Parker mumbled. “Well, at least she didn’t hire a Neanderthal to protect you.”

It wasn’t the right time to attempt anything light. He didn’t need to be defusing this situation even in the smallest kind of way. He wanted Bailey to be afraid so she would turn to him for protection. That was the plan, anyway. But after watching her fight those tears, his plan had gone south.

Parker cursed what he was about to do but did it anyway. He slipped his arm around Bailey and pulled her closer to him. She put up a token resistance and shoved her fist against his chest, but she didn’t step away.

“I know you must be good at your job,” Bailey said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. She spoke with her mouth right against his shoulder. “But if I allow you to stay, it’s as if I’m letting my mother win this battle of wills.”

He leaned his head down so that the corner of his eye met the corner of hers. “So, let me get this straight. You’d rather win than be safe?”

Bailey stared up at him. She also huffed. “You have a knack for making me feel like an idiot, you know that?”

“Really? Because I didn’t think I was getting anywhere with you.”

“You’re not getting anywhere,” she snapped. “Other than the making-me-feel-like-an-idiot part. I’ve already said I’ll take precautions—”

When she stopped, Parker followed her gaze.

His son, with helmet in hand and his bike propped against the steps, was standing there on the porch. And he was eyeing the close contact between Bailey and Parker.

“Zach,” Parker managed to say. “You’re here already.”

“Zach?” Bailey repeated. She jerked away from Parker. “Uh, this is nothing. I’m just a little upset, and your dad lent me his shoulder.”

“Okay.” Zach couldn’t have possibly sounded more disinterested, but he still volleyed strange looks between the two.

Probably because he’d never seen his dad close to a woman.

Parker had dated a little in the last year or two, but he had never brought women home and never introduced them to Zach. He didn’t want his son thinking he’d gotten over his mother’s death. That might feel like a betrayal to her memory.

“The money,” Parker remembered, fishing through his back jeans pocket for his wallet.

“You’re Bailey Lockhart,” Zach said, dodging eye contact with both Parker and her. “I saw a picture of you in the gym at the community center. You were, like, young then. I mean, not like you are now.”

Parker didn’t know who winced more—him or his son.

Bailey smiled, though Parker was sure it was forced. “I played basketball in high school and college. Freedom doesn’t have many so-called star athletes, so I made the cut and got my picture on the wall.”

Parker knew she’d been an athlete. It was his job to study her background, but he was surprised that his son even had a clue who she was.

“What position did you play?” Zach asked, idly taking the money from Parker. He was making eye contact—with Bailey.

“Point guard. How about you?”

“Off guard, but if I grow a few more inches, I can move to forward. I’ve already checked out the other guys who’ll be on the team, and there’s only one who’s taller than me.”

“Josh Bracken,” Bailey provided, and that prompted Zach to nod. “His dad is a deputy sheriff.”

The corner of Zach’s mouth lifted just a fraction. “Yeah. Josh is good, too. There was a basketball hoop already in the driveway when we moved in so Josh has been coming over so we can practice. He’s got a wicked outside shot.”

Parker just stared at them. This was the most he’d heard Zach speak in a year. Of course, he wasn’t actually speaking with him but rather Bailey.

Bailey smiled again, and this time it didn’t seem forced at all. “Well, since you’re the spitting image of your dad, I’m betting you’ll inherit his height, too. It won’t be long before you’re eye to eye with him and can play forward.”

Zach glanced at Parker. No more partial smile. In fact, no smile at all. His normal scowl returned. “Gotta go. The camp starts in fifteen minutes.” He mumbled something to Bailey about it being good to meet her.

“He’s a nice kid,” Bailey said, watching as Zach put on his helmet and rode away on his bike.

Nice certainly wasn’t the word Parker would have used to describe him. Their relationship was strained at best. “I wasn’t around much when he was growing up.”

“Well, he certainly turned out all right.” Bailey pulled back her shoulders, her attention still on the outside front. “People are starting to arrive.”

Parker spotted three cars pulling into the parking lot. “You’re sure you want to do business as usual?”

“I want to try.” However, she didn’t sound as certain as she had earlier. “I’ll talk to my staff and the parents and tell them what’s going on. If they want to keep their children away from here, then that’s their decision, but I’ll stay open for those who want to stay.”

Parker took a deep breath, to gear up for round three with her, but he heard someone coming down the stairs. It was Sheriff Hale, and he was taking the steps two at a time.

“I just got a call,” the sheriff told Parker. “That black car with the bogus plates that you saw on the surveillance tapes—my deputy just spotted it.”

“Where?” Bailey immediately asked.

“On Main Street, just a few blocks away, and he’s headed in this direction.”