Читать книгу Colton's Secret Bodyguard - Jane Godman - Страница 12

Dawn was turning the summit of Pine Peak gold when Rylan eased his body into a more upright position. Although he hadn’t been expecting to spend the night in his vehicle, years of conducting surveillance had taught him to be prepared for any eventuality. As well as his licensed firearm, he had an overnight bag with toiletries and a change of clothes in the trunk. He also carried bottled water and snacks. Since the temperature had dropped below freezing, the items he had been most grateful for were a warm blanket and his woolen beanie.

Turning his head from side to side, Rylan attempted to ease the tightness in his neck muscles. The view through his windshield was of the Wise Gal Gallery with Bree’s apartment above it. To the rear, the mountains were slowly being revealed by the rising sun. The streetlights of Second Street curved away to his right. To his left, across the empty parking lot, the Diamond was still in darkness.

He shifted his body to face forward and a flicker caught his attention. Barely a movement, it was enough to have him diving out of the car and running toward the gallery. As he approached the entrance, he heard a soft groan from the base of the stairs that led to Bree’s apartment.

Rylan bit back a curse as he measured the distance to his vehicle and weighed his options. Return to get his weapon from the trunk and risk an intruder getting up those steps? Or remain unarmed and take his chances?

Another groan, clearly the sound of someone in pain, took the decision out of his hands. Cautiously, he moved forward. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he was able to make out the shape of a person lying on the floor.

Dropping to his knees, Rylan withdrew his cell phone from his pocket and activated the flashlight. Its beam revealed a large man wearing a security guard uniform. Although he was lying on his back on the concrete, the guy raised an arm to shield his eyes from the light.

“Where are you hurt?” Rylan tried to remember what Bree had said the guard’s name was. Swanick? Swinson? Swanson. That was it. David Swanson.

“Hit my head.” David struggled into a sitting position. “Low-life pushed me as he ran past.”

“Take it easy.” Rylan hooked an arm under his shoulders and eased him backward until he was leaning against the wall. “I’ll call 911.”

“No.” The other man raised a hand and felt the back of his head. “The skin isn’t broken. There’s hardly even a lump.”

Rylan wasn’t convinced. “You can’t be too careful with a head injury.”

“I know the drill.” David gave a shaky laugh. “If I get any severe headaches, blurred vision or dizziness, I’ll see a doctor.”

“What happened?” Rylan asked. “Have you been on duty all night?” If so, David had been slacking. Rylan hadn’t seen him patrolling the area.

David winced as he shook his head. “I start work at seven. Even though the sun doesn’t come up until about six forty-five at this time of year, I always follow the same routine. My apartment is over the Yogurt Hut.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the Diamond. “When I leave home, I check the perimeter of the parking lot before I go into the gallery and sign in.”

Rylan frowned. At this time of year, David would need to use a flashlight to do his first patrol. He was certain he’d have observed any signs of light or movement. “I was in my vehicle, but I didn’t see you.”

“You wouldn’t have.” There was a trace of bitterness in the security guard’s voice. “As soon as I stepped out of my apartment, I saw someone heading toward the gallery.”

Rylan tried to picture the scene. Was it likely that David could have noticed someone he had missed? It was a possibility. The Yogurt Hut was in the far left corner of the Diamond at a point just on the periphery of what Rylan was able to see from where he had been sitting in his car. Although he had taken time to observe each angle at regular intervals, he didn’t have his surveillance equipment. Consequently, a constant 360-degree view had not been available to him.

Even though the thought chilled him, he accepted that the other man could have seen something he hadn’t. “What made you suspicious?” he asked. “Couldn’t it have been someone like you, just heading to work?”

“Like I said, I do this every morning. No one is around at this time. When I saw the guy approaching the gallery, I was even more surprised since Bree doesn’t open the doors until about eight thirty most mornings. As I caught up with him, what really shook me was that he was heading for these stairs. The only place that can be accessed from here is Bree’s apartment, and why would anyone be sneaking around before it’s fully light?”

“Did you get a look at him?” Rylan asked.

“No. He had a hood pulled up, hiding his face. When I challenged him, and asked what he was doing here, he shoved me. That’s when I fell back and hit my head,” David said. “While I was lying on the ground, he ran off.”

“Bree said the security systems were updated after the recent attack. Are there cameras?”

“Not here. The closed-circuit TV is focused on the front of the gallery. There won’t be any footage of this incident.” David sat up straighter, directing a curious look at Rylan “Why are you here so early?”

It was time to think fast. Rylan couldn’t guarantee that he hadn’t been seen during his overnight vigil. He may as well tell the truth, even if he invented a reason.

“Engine trouble.” He grimaced. “Had to spend the night in my vehicle.”

“That was a cruel bit of luck.” Staggering slightly, David made an effort to get to his feet. Rylan gripped his elbow, supporting him until he was able to remain steady. “Couldn’t you get a tow?”

Rylan ignored the question. “Let’s go into the gallery. I’ll make you a drink and we can call the police.”

Although David took out his keys as he accompanied Rylan toward the huge glass doors, he didn’t seem to think much of that suggestion. “There’s nothing to tell them.”

“This guy was on his way up to Bree’s apartment.” Once they were inside the foyer, Rylan leaned on the reception counter while David deactivated the alarm. “That needs to be logged. What if he comes back and reaches his destination next time?”

Even as he made the comment that caused his blood to run cold, his analytical brain was assessing the situation. If Bree was the intended target, the timing was odd. Why not try to get to her during the night instead of waiting until dawn? Unfortunately, the only person who could answer that question would be the stalker himself.

They went through to the staff kitchen. While Rylan fixed coffee, David went to the first-aid locker in search of painkillers.

When they were seated at a table, Rylan studied the other man thoughtfully. David was only of average height, but his physique was powerful. “Boxing? Or MMA?”

David gave an appreciative grin. “A little of both. Although I don’t have much time these days.” He returned the measuring glance. “You?”

Rylan laughed. “I boxed a little when I first joined the army. Now, the only fights I get into are with a temperamental donkey.” Aware of the other man’s look of surprise, he shook his head. “Long story. At least we know one thing about your attacker.”

David paused in the act of sipping his coffee. “We do?”

“If he knocked you over, he must be a big guy.”

The security guard shrugged. “He caught me by surprise. I didn’t get a sense of his size.”

Frustrated by the lack of information, Rylan held up his cell phone. “You want me to call the police?”

“Please.” David showed him a trembling hand. “I’m still shaken up.”

It was only as he began to relay the details of the incident to a dispatcher that Rylan realized he was doing the very thing Bree didn’t want. He knew enough about her to be aware of how much she valued her privacy. He could already hear her skepticism. There was no proof that the guy who pushed David had intended to harm her. Was he letting his protectiveness toward her override his common sense? Definitely. Where she was concerned, he would choose caution every time.

He only hoped she would see his point of view.

* * *

Although Bree went through her morning routine in her usual first-light daze, a new awareness forced its way through the brain fog. Her body was on high alert, moving fast instead of dawdling, conspiring to get her out of the apartment and into work faster. Why? The answer to that was easy. Because Rylan would be at the gallery.

She had always believed there was a possibility the bad-relationship fairy had been present at her birth. A few months into her first serious relationship, she had realized that the man who had sworn undying love was actually more interested in the Colton money. That could have been bad luck. However, when it happened a second time, she started questioning her judgment and eventually came to the conclusion that dating was not for her

Being out of that whole relationship loop hadn’t bothered her. Right now, she was too focused on her career. Maybe she’d feel differently in a few years when her biological clock started ticking. That was what she’d told herself. And it had been true. Until now.

Although she had initiated last night’s earth-shattering kiss, Rylan had still left. It would have been easy to have woken this morning feeling dispirited and spurned. Instead, she felt curiously optimistic. She had made her feelings plain. She had suspected all along that Rylan felt the same and his response to the kiss confirmed it.

After he’d gone, she’d indulged in some lengthy analysis of his behavior, while also reliving the heady sensation of his lips on hers. By walking away instead of taking things a step further, was he saying she meant more than a quick fling? The thought made her shiver with pleasure.

I hope so. Because he already meant so much more to her. There. The thought was out there. Scary but true.

After showering, she studied her hair in the mirror. She loved her curls, but they could be rebellious. They definitely needed to be kept in their place when she was working. Giving her hair a quick all-over spritz with her favorite macadamia oil product, she pulled her wild locks back into a ruthlessly tight braid.

When Bree purchased this property, she’d had a walk-in closet built. Her father had laughed and asked how long it would be before she needed another one. As she rifled through the overflowing rails, she realized Calvin Colton had been right. She either needed more space, or she would have to part with some of her precious vintage treasures. But how would she choose which of her 1950s cocktail dresses or rock-chick biker jackets to give away?

She pulled on black leggings, a short floral dress and knee-high brown boots. Over the top, she layered a long Scandinavian knit jacket in bright geometric blocks and twisted a contrasting scarf loosely around her neck. Moisturizing sunscreen, a touch of lip gloss, a spray of perfume, and she was a splash of color dashing past the mirror next to her front door.

Two minutes later, she regarded the man seated behind her desk with a wary expression. “I’m always pleased to see you, Trey. I also know how busy you are, so I’m guessing this isn’t a social call.”

Her brother grinned. “Most people start with good morning. How are things with you, sis? Still struggling to decide which you hate most...morning or anchovies?”

“The answer depends on whether I’m listening to my alarm clock or ordering pizza.” Bree flopped into the chair opposite him. “Seriously, why are you here?”

His expression became serious. “We got a report of a person behaving suspiciously close to these premises just before seven a.m. A security guard...” He checked his notes. “A guy named Swanson was attacked.”

Bree jerked upright. “David? Is he okay?”

“Fine. He had a fright, but he wasn’t seriously injured. He’s already back at work.” Her brother leaned forward with his hands clasped on the desk. “What bothers me is that Swanson thought the intruder was intending to climb the steps to your apartment.”

A cold trickle of fear tracked its way down Bree’s spine. She pushed it aside, frowning over the vagueness of Trey’s statement. “David thought that was his intention? A minor injury and the suspicion that a man may have been planning to climb the stairs to my apartment? Was that really the most pressing item on your schedule this morning, Trey?”

He had the grace to look sheepish. “I wanted to check and make sure you were okay. The guy who called this in—”

She held up a hand. “I thought David Swanson called you?”

“No.” He consulted his notes. “The 911 dispatcher spoke to a Rylan Bennet.”

Bree rubbed the bridge of her nose. It was early. She was caffeine deprived and Trey’s presence had taken her by surprise. That must be why nothing was making sense. Because why would Rylan be here before the gallery opened?

“You know him?” Trey was watching her closely. Nothing escaped her brother.

“He manages a group of artists who are taking part in my next show. Mom introduced him to me.”

The Audrey Colton seal of approval acted like a charm, and Trey relaxed back into his chair. “Since I’m here, help me out. It’s only been a week since someone threw a brick through the gallery window. You’ve been getting threatening emails. So far, I don’t have any leads on who is responsible. Has anything happened since to make you feel uncomfortable?”

Thoughts of her recorder and coffee being moved flashed through her mind, but she suppressed them. If Trey found out she was being harassed, she would be transported back to her childhood. He would be the big, strong brother and she would be in his shadow once again. She loved him, but she didn’t want to hand control of her life over to him. Not unless she was forced to.

A tiny voice at the back of her mind asked the question, Shouldn’t Trey be the one to decide? If the strange incidents were linked to the broken window, and now this attack on David, wasn’t it time to confide in the sheriff? A second voice spoke up, drowning out the first. What if they aren’t linked?

“Bree?” Trey’s prompt brought her back down to earth. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“No.” She looked him up and down. “But there is something I need to ask you.”

He raised his brows. “Ask away.”

“Why am I on the wrong side of my desk?”

Laughing, Trey got to his feet. When he held out his arms, Bree rose and was enveloped in a hug that lifted her off her feet.

When he released her, Trey gave her a long look. “You’d tell me if there was a problem?”

“I’d tell you if there was something you could help me with.”

He frowned. “That’s not the same thing.”

She patted his cheek. “It’s all you’re getting. Now scoot. I have work to do.”

“Unfortunately, so do I.” He turned reluctantly toward the door. “How about lunch next week?”

“As long as you’re buying, it’s a date.” Bree waited for him to close the door before she sank into her chair. Almost immediately, the dance music ringtone on her cell phone signaled an incoming call. A glance at the display showed her Rylan’s name.

She didn’t bother with a greeting. “I need to speak to you.”

“Do you like dogs?”

The question threw her off balance. “What do you mean?”

“Dogs, wise gal. You know. Four legs. Tails that wag. Make a noise called barking. Do you like them?”

“Yes, but...”

“Good. Come out to the parking lot.”

She started to protest, but he’d already ended the call. What was going on? Feeling as if she’d entered a parallel universe, Bree left her office and walked the length of the gallery.

All this, and I still haven’t had my first cup of coffee.

When she stepped outside, two things hit her. One was the chill breeze. The other was Rylan’s magnetism. Dressed in jeans, boots and a worn leather jacket, he was leaning against the hood of his car. The smile that lit his eyes when he saw her did something wicked to her insides.

Bree didn’t return the smile. She wasn’t here to be charmed. Since the last time she’d seen him, he’d somehow gotten involved in the incident with David, and he’d just given her an order. She wasn’t sure she liked either of those circumstances.

A slight frown creased her brow as she crossed the distance between them. “What do you want, Rylan? I have a lot to do today.”

The blue of his eyes darkened, like clouds crossing a summer sky. “Hey. What is this?”

“My brother told me you called in the attack on David.” Although she let him take her hands, she didn’t return his grip. “Why were you here before the gallery opened this morning?”

He hesitated for a few seconds. “I slept in my car last night. I told David it was because I had engine trouble. That wasn’t the real reason.”

Bree felt as though her world was spinning further off course with every passing second. “What was the real reason?”

“I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

When her family became overprotective, Bree bristled and fought back. It was a reaction to her childhood, when her parents had tried too hard to shield her from the effects of her dyslexia. However, in this instance, instead of Rylan’s admission provoking a similar response in her, it made her feel warm and comforted. Swaying toward him, she rested her forehead on his chest.

After a moment or two, he ducked his head to get a look at her face. “Are we okay?”

She nodded. “But you didn’t have to do that.”

The look he gave her was charged with so much electricity it almost threw her backward. Any doubts she may have had about his sincerity were gone. “Believe me, I did.”

How could she begin to explain it to him? No, Rylan, you didn’t. Because you had a place to stay. In my apartment. In my bed...

Changing the subject was probably a good idea. “Why were you in such a hurry to get me out here?”

“I wanted you to meet someone.”

Bree’s emotions went on a new roller coaster ride as he strode toward the passenger side of his car. Someone? After a minute or two, he returned with a leash attached to...a large mop.

“What is it?” She stared at the creature in fascination.

Rylan laughed. “This is Papadum. He’s a komondor, a Hungarian sheepdog.”

“I can’t tell which end is which,” Bree said.

“Well, they perform very different functions.” Rylan lifted the dog’s long corded bangs so Bree could see his eyes. The other end of the animal wagged. “I wouldn’t recommend getting them mixed up.”

Laughing, she stroked Papadum’s head. The wagging increased. “Papadum? Were you craving Asian food when you named him?”

“He was abandoned. The owner of an Indian restaurant found him in a dumpster when he took the trash out one night.”

“How sad.” Bree stooped to hug Papadum and the dog licked her cheek.

“See, you figured out the right end,” Rylan quipped. “That could have gone horribly wrong if you hadn’t.”

“Rylan!” Bree gave a choke of laughter. “Your dog is lovely, but why is he here?”

“Ah.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “I thought you might like to borrow him.”