Читать книгу Bodyguard Under Fire - Elle James - Страница 12

Chapter Three

PJ rose early the next morning, fed Charlie, dressed and loaded the diaper bag with frozen breast milk and diapers for the day care. She had to be at the diner for the first shift.

She dreaded opening the door and waking Chuck after he’d spent the night sleeping in the hall. A twinge of guilt pinched her chest at the thought of him lying on a hard vinyl-tile floor all night, while she’d had a soft mattress and pillows to cushion her.

With the words to thank him poised on her lips, she hooked the infant carrier with Charlie in it on one arm and the diaper bag on the other and eased open the door.

The hallway was empty. Chuck’s door was closed. Had he slept outside all night or just part of it?

PJ let go of the breath she’d been holding, relieved she wouldn’t have to confront him yet. She’d spent the better part of the rest of her night tossing and turning, thinking about the man who’d attacked her, and more so, the one sleeping on the other side of her door.

She’d known that one day she’d have to tell Chuck about Charlie, and she’d been fully intending to tell him upon his return from his deployment. She thought she had two more months. The day had come sooner than she’d anticipated, and she hadn’t been ready.

PJ exited the building and hurried toward her car, hoping she wouldn’t run into Chuck outside. Charlie had fallen asleep in her infant carrier even before they’d left the apartment. Her little eyes scrunched as the full force of the morning sunlight shone down on her tiny face.

PJ juggled the carrier to unlock the car. Charlie whimpered but remained asleep.

As she settled the carrier into the car, PJ’s skin prickled and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She cast a glance over her shoulder.

No one was there, although she could have sworn a shadow shifted at the corner of the building. Snapping the seat into place, PJ straightened and faced the back of the resort building.

“Anyone there?” she called out, her voice shaky, her knees even shakier.

No answer. A curtain was pushed aside in a window above and Chuck peered down, half of his face covered in shaving cream.

Warmth filled PJ’s neck and cheeks. The man was ageless and looked as good today as he had a year ago when she’d been young and stupid in love. Seeing him standing there with his razor in his hand made PJ’s heart turn cartwheels against her ribs.

Chuck disappeared and reappeared at the sliding glass door on the balcony of his room, bare-chested, a towel slung over one shoulder. “Are you okay?” he called out.

The heat built in her cheeks as she nodded. “I’m fine.”

“I thought I heard you call out.”

“I talk to myself sometimes.” Feeling foolish and paranoid, she gave him half a smile. “Gotta go.” PJ slipped behind the wheel of her beat-up car and closed the door to avoid further conversation with the father of her child. What else could she say while standing in the parking lot and him hanging over the balcony? Welcome back? Sorry I didn’t tell you about your baby? Or, damn, you look good?

She shifted into Reverse, backed out of the parking space and pulled out onto the road. A glance in her rearview mirror confirmed that Chuck was still standing on the balcony, watching her. Below, at the corner of the building, something moved. PJ frowned, slowed the vehicle and shot a quick glance over her shoulder at the resort.

Nothing.

She supposed paranoia was bound to be a result of postattack jitters. With a shrug, she turned the corner and drove to the church day care on the other side of town where Charlie spent her days with Dana, who worked there part-time, and the other ladies who ran the child care program. She’d been going there since PJ started to work for Cara Jo at the diner two months prior.

PJ worked mornings, lunch and early afternoon. Late afternoon, she spent either at her computer or in the library taking college courses online.

Dana met her at the door to the infant room. “Running a little late, aren’t you?”

PJ dropped the diaper bag on the floor and slid the infant carrier off her arm. Dana took the carrier and set it on a counter, unbuckling Charlie from the restraints. “Hey, sweetie, come see Auntie Dana.”

Charlie’s eyes blinked open, and she stared up at Dana.

Regret tugged at PJ’s heart that she had to spend so much time away from her daughter. But she’d made a commitment to build a better life for herself and Charlie, and the only way she could do that was to get a degree. And she wouldn’t have been able to do that if not for the scholarship she’d received from an anonymous benefactor.

Dana lifted Charlie into her arms and stared across her downy hair to PJ. “So, did you meet him?”

“Meet who?” PJ pulled the bottles of breast milk from the diaper bag and settled them into the refrigerator, determined to ignore Dana’s questions. Unfortunately, she couldn’t stop the slow burn rising in her cheeks at the mere mention of her new neighbor in the resort apartments.

A smile spread across Dana’s face. “You did. Isn’t he hunky?”

“Dana, you’re married. What would Tommy say?”

She shrugged. “I’m married, not dead. And I’m only thinking of you, not myself.”

PJ’s lips twisted into a half smile. “I know him.”

“You do?”

“Yes, we dated for a while.”

“Shut up. You’re kidding, right? That gorgeous hunk?”

Knowing it would be out before long, PJ kissed Charlie, her heart pinching tight. Then she crossed to the door, her hand resting on the knob, ready to yank and run. “Look, I have to get to work. But you should know that the man you met last night is Charlie’s father.” She opened the door.

“Oh, no you didn’t.” Dana advanced on her, carrying Charlie. “You didn’t just hit-and-run. You have to stay and tell me everything.”

“I can’t. I’m already late for work. I promise we’ll talk this afternoon when I pick up Charlie.”

“Darn right you will.” Dana smiled down at Charlie. “And we’ll spend all day talking about your daddy, won’t we, sweet baby?”

PJ slipped out before she broke down in front of Dana. After the attack last night, the intense joy of seeing Chuck for the first time in almost a year and then breaking the news of Charlie to him, PJ was emotionally wrung out. And she hadn’t even pulled her eight-hour shift yet.

She trudged to her car and hurried back the way she’d come, anxious to dive into work so that she could forget everything else.

Ha. As if that would happen. With Chuck hired on as the handyman, she didn’t have a chance.

Cara Jo cornered her as soon as she entered the diner with its black and white tiled floor and fifties-style tables and chairs. “I can’t believe I slept right through everything.”

PJ shook her head. “I take it you heard about the incident last night.” She stepped around the counter and tucked her purse behind the stash of paper towels.

“I didn’t hear anything. No sirens, no screaming, nothing. I had to hear it from a deputy who’d stopped in for coffee this morning.” Cara Jo grabbed PJ’s arms. “Are you okay?”

PJ smiled. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“That bastard didn’t hurt you?”

A chill rippled across PJ’s skin, and she touched the base of her throat where the lamp cord had almost been the death of her. “Not much. Just scared the fool out of me.” PJ grabbed a full coffeepot and struck out across the diner, determined to end the conversation. After refilling several empty mugs and taking orders for breakfast, she returned to the counter and Cara Jo, a little more in control of her emotions and ready to launch her own attack. “Why didn’t you tell me about Chuck?”

Cara Jo’s brows rose innocently. “Chuck?”

“The handyman you hired for the resort?” PJ’s brows rose to match Cara Jo’s.

“Oh, yeah, him.” Cara Jo’s cheeks reddened. She rested a hand on PJ’s arm. “When Hank told me he’d hired a handyman, I didn’t know it was Chuck at first. Hank’s my new boss. I didn’t have a say. He hired him and told me he’d be starting today. It wasn’t until we were on the way to Fort Stockton that Hank let me know who he really was. I swear.” She held up her hand, her expression too solemn to be a hoax. Cara Jo had never lied to PJ. Why would she start now?

“Why didn’t you warn me then?”

“I was trying to find the words, but for some reason, I never could come up with the right ones.” She shrugged. “Are you mad at me?”

PJ sighed. “No. I can’t stay mad at you.” She set the coffeepot on the burner. “Do you have any say in who works as the handyman?”

“Not yet. I just accepted the position of resort manager. I haven’t even had a chance to move my stuff into the office.”

PJ sighed. Chuck would be around for a while. “I guess we won’t be seeing much of you around the diner once you get oriented with your new duties.”

“My first responsibility is to the diner. It’s my baby. I won’t desert you and the staff here.” Cara Jo hugged PJ. “And you’ll always be my friend, so don’t think you’re getting out of this relationship without an argument from me.”

Her heart warming at Cara Jo’s display of affection, PJ reminded herself how lucky she was to have Cara Jo in her life. When her adoptive mother had died of a heart attack, PJ had felt more alone than she had since she’d come to Wild Oak Canyon. If not for Cara Jo giving her a job and arranging with the resort for a place to live, she and Charlie would have been destitute. Then out of the blue, the scholarship had landed in her lap and PJ felt she was finally on her way to a new and better life for her and her daughter.

The bell over the diner door jingled and PJ glanced up, her heart flipping over.

Chuck entered, his gaze crossing the room to clash with PJ’s. Hank Derringer entered behind Chuck and then smiled and nodded toward Cara Jo and PJ. The two settled in the farthest corner in a booth.

“Want me to get them?” Cara Jo asked.

“No. I can do this.” PJ stiffened her spine.

“Does Chuck know about Charlie?” Cara Jo whispered.

PJ nodded, gathering two menus and two coffee mugs, her hands shaking. “He found out last night after he chased the attacker out of my apartment.”

Cara Jo whistled softly. “Wow, what a way to learn you have a baby daughter.”

A stab of guilt twisted in PJ’s gut. “Yeah. But what’s done is done. I have to live with the choice I made.”

“Any chance you two will get back together?” Cara Jo asked.

Her chest tightening so much she could barely breathe, PJ shrugged. She was afraid if she spoke, her voice would crack along with her composure.

“I get it. It’s too soon to talk about it.” Cara Jo gave her a pat on the back. “Go on. You’re tough—you can handle this.”

PJ wasn’t so sure, but she didn’t plan on hiding every time she ran into Chuck. Wild Oak Canyon was too small to think she could avoid him forever.

* * *

“ANY OTHER PROBLEMS after last night’s initial incident?” Hank asked.

Chuck dragged his gaze away from PJ as she strode across the black and white linoleum tiles of the diner toward them. He had a hard time focusing on Hank with PJ nearby. “What? Oh, no. I checked her balcony door locks and each of the windows and then bedded down in the hallway to make sure no one bothered her again.”

Hank sighed. “I figured something might happen, but I wasn’t sure what or when.”

PJ stopped at their table and set the menus and the empty coffee mugs in front of them. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.” Hank frowned. “Are you all right, my dear?”

PJ smiled down at the older man. “I’m fine, thanks to Chuck. I understand you hired him as the handyman for the resort.”

“I did. Thought we could use someone with carpentry skills who could also work with the horses since Juan is no longer with us.”

She nodded curtly. “I’ll be right back with the coffee.”

As soon as PJ was out of earshot, Hank leaned closer. “I don’t want anyone to know I hired you to protect PJ. The less connection she has to me, the less chance of her being hurt.”

“What’s going on? All you told me was that I needed to provide protection to an employee of the resort. What made you think PJ needed protecting?”

“I got a call from an adoption agency in Flagstaff, Arizona. They noted that their computer system had been hacked, and PJ’s files had been the target.”

“And why would they call you?”

Hank glanced around the diner, his blue eyes darkening. “I knew PJ’s birth mother, Alana Rodriguez. She made sure that if anything happened to PJ’s adoptive mother, all correspondence or concerns should be directed to me.”

“Why you?”

“I helped her escape her abusive fiancé twenty-six years ago in Cozumel, Mexico. It was easy for her to fit into a new life in the United States. She spoke fluent English and had sandy-blond hair and green eyes just like PJ. I suspect her coloring was a throwback from her European Spanish heritage.”

Chuck’s eyes narrowed. “Something tells me there’s more to this story.”

Hank sighed. “I told her if she ever needed me for anything to let me know.” He stared across the table at Chuck. “When she disappeared, her fiancé had the Mexican police arrest me, claiming I’d murdered Alana.”

“What happened to her?”

“I arranged for her to get to the States, gave her a new identity and she disappeared. I didn’t see her again.”

“How did you get the Mexican government to drop the charges?”

“With no body and no evidence of foul play, they couldn’t keep me. Although I barely got out of Mexico.”

“So why is this all surfacing again?”

“Her fiancé, Emilio Montalvo,” Hank slid a blurry picture of a Hispanic man in front of Hank, “had connections deep in the Mexican Mafia. He swore when he found Alana, he’d make us both pay. I stayed away from her, sure that any contact with her would put her at risk of him finding her. I didn’t know she’d had a child and the child was PJ until last year.”

“How did you find out?”

Hank’s gaze dropped to the empty coffee mug in his hand. “I found out when Terri Franks, a woman I barely knew who’d worked at the resort for the past eight years, died.”

“PJ’s adoptive mother.” Chuck’s gaze slipped from Hank to PJ, headed their way with a carafe of coffee.

Hank turned a smile toward PJ as she stopped to fill his cup.

“Ready to order?” PJ directed her question to Hank, refusing to lock gazes with Chuck.

They had a lot to discuss, but Chuck didn’t want to do it in public. It would wait until that evening when he could get her alone.

Hank and Chuck ordered breakfast, and PJ walked away.

“How did you find out PJ was Alana’s daughter, not Terri’s?”

“I received a package in the mail from Terri Franks’s attorney. In it was a letter from Alana, asking me to look out for her daughter should anything happen to Terri. In the letter Terri left with her lawyer, she explained how she’d been PJ’s nanny when they lived out in Arizona. Alana had arranged to have Terri adopt PJ if something should happen to her. I only wish I’d known then.”

“Why do you think the hacking into the adoption agency’s files points to you and PJ?”

“My corporate and personal computer systems were also maliciously hacked. All the data was downloaded to some site in Mexico.”

“Was your letter from Alana in those files?”

“No.”

“Then how would the hacker connect you to PJ?”

“PJ doesn’t know it, but the scholarship she’s going to school on comes from one of my corporations. The bank statements and money trail were part of the system hacked.”

“Any leads on who might be hacking into your system, or who might want to hurt PJ?”

“Anyone could be getting to me by targeting PJ.”

Chuck drummed his fingers on the table. “But hacking into the adoption files...that makes it a little more personal.”

Hank nodded. “Exactly.”

“You think Alana’s ex-fiancé might have traced PJ through the adoption agency?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“How long ago did you say it was when you helped this woman, Alana?”

Hank stared across the table at Chuck. “Twenty-six years ago.”

Chuck did the math in his head. PJ had turned twenty-five while he’d been in Afghanistan. His gut tightened. “The next question—and I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it might be important—but just who is PJ’s father?”

The older man opened his mouth and then closed it and smiled, his head turning toward the woman in question.

“Your breakfast.” PJ set a steaming plate of eggs, sunny-side up, in front of Hank and one in front of Chuck, her arm brushing against his, sending sensual shock waves across his senses.

Chuck’s fingers tightened on the napkin in his lap to keep from reaching out and pulling PJ into his arms.

PJ jerked her arm back, her eyes flaring wide for a moment. Her chest rose and fell on a deep breath. “Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“No, thank you,” Hank answered for them both.

Chuck couldn’t speak, his throat tight around his vocal cords. He wanted to hold PJ so badly, he had to remain completely still or risk leaping from his seat and taking her into his arms.

When PJ turned and hurried away, Chuck let go of the breath he’d been holding and faced Hank. “Were you and Alana more than just acquaintances?”

Hank nodded.

“So PJ could be your and Alana’s daughter.”

The older man lifted his fork and put it down again. “I don’t know. Without informing PJ of our connection, I don’t know how to get a sample for DNA testing. If she’s my daughter, she runs the risk of kidnapping attempts.”

“Like your wife and son...” Chuck had heard about Hank’s family before he’d deployed. Everyone in Wild Oak Canyon knew they’d disappeared two years ago and Hank had been looking for them ever since.

Hank stared across the table at Chuck, his face haggard, older than his fifty-something years. “I couldn’t bear for her to be hurt because of me.”

“You need to tell her,” Chuck said.

“When I know for sure.”

“The only way you’ll know for sure is to do DNA testing. You’d have to tell her something to get the sample you need.”

Hank threw his napkin on the table, his brows furrowed. “I couldn’t bear it if someone targeted another person because of me.”

“She might not be yours at all. Alana could have had another relationship with someone else shortly after disappearing.”

Hank’s eyes narrowed. “Then why leave the letter for me?”

“She counted on you to help.” Chuck stared across the room at PJ, leaning close to an elderly woman, taking her order. “What if PJ is the ex-fiancé’s daughter?”

“Things might get even worse.” Hank’s lips tightened. “He’ll want what is his and will stop at nothing to take her and the child.”