Читать книгу Under Pressure - Lori Foster - Страница 12
ОглавлениеSHE SLEPT THE entire hour and a half it took to reach their destination. It was a testament to her level of exhaustion, and how much she intrinsically trusted him and Justice. There was very real danger, Leese didn’t doubt that. Especially after meeting Tesh, who he discovered was actually Tesh Coleman, a fifty-two-year-old professional thug for the elite.
Justice glanced back at her. Her entire body was lax, her expression peaceful. Leese had had to move to the front seat to keep from touching her. Repeatedly.
“You’re smitten,” Justice accused. “And you told me that shit was a no-no.”
“Concerned, not smitten. I’m wondering how long she’s gone without a good rest to keep passing out like that.”
“Maybe she’s just a sound sleeper. This one lady I knew could sleep through an earthquake after a good boning. Totally knocked her out.”
Leese grinned. “Maybe you bored her to sleep.”
He only half listened to Justice’s denials as they neared Body Armor’s swanky main offices. He’d been with the bodyguard agency for a year now, and so far, it was unlike anything he’d imagined.
For one thing, he liked it a hell of a lot more than he’d expected to.
Playing protector suited him on a basic level. There’d been a time in his life when he’d been more of a jerk than he liked to admit. Much as he detested the truth, he believed in being honest with himself so he accepted that much of his attitude had stemmed from insecurity. As a mediocre MMA fighter, he’d had just enough skill to be cocky and obnoxious.
He wasn’t insecure anymore.
And these days, with plenty of practice, his skill level was lethal.
After a lapse in his judgment had almost gotten a girl killed, his entire outlook on life had changed. The eye-opening close call had turned him around.
He planned to spend the rest of his life helping others, and if he got paid well in the bargain he’d count it a double win.
“She passed out whimpering my name.”
Drawn back to the here and now, Leese said, “Probably begging you to quit and leave her alone.”
With a smug smile, Justice said, “She still comes around for the occasional booty call.”
“Maybe she has insomnia? She needs you to put her to sleep again.”
Justice laughed. “Admit it, I’m a stud and you’re jealous.”
When Cat made a small sound, Leese again glanced into the backseat. She hadn’t moved.
“Gotta say,” Justice told him. “So far it’s been interesting. But don’t you miss MMA?”
Leese figured Justice asked because he was already missing it. “I still train,” Leese told him. “I just don’t compete, which is no big loss because we both know we weren’t championship material.” They were good. A hell of a lot better than any street brawler. But champion? Only a select few could claim that title.
He’d come to grips with that, but maybe Justice hadn’t yet. After all, it had taken Justice nearly a year longer than Leese to admit it. Leese had a feeling that once Justice got acclimated, he’d like the bodyguard business a lot more than he now realized.
“I guess.” Justice tugged at his earring. “I’m actually better at shooting bullets than I ever was at takedowns.”
“You’ll try it as a bodyguard, and if you don’t like it, don’t stay.” But Leese would bet he’d stay.
“You’d told me there weren’t any hot babes to protect, but the little lady snoring in the backseat is pretty sweet on the eyes.”
Very sweet. “She’s an exception to the rule. It’s mostly businessmen and high-profile local politicians.” So far Leese’s most exciting assignments had included coordinating protection for a touring musician, a movie production on location and a foreign dignitary. “In fact, the specifics of this case are an exception. Most of the time your job will be to check out safe routes for travel, research the backgrounds of people your client will interact with and search rooms where they’ll be staying to ensure they’re safe. Mundane stuff like that.”
“You lucked out with this one, then.”
“Maybe.” He knew his boss, in her efforts to really promote the agency, reserved certain jobs for certain people. She was good at matchups, so Leese didn’t question her.
Now she’d matched him up with Catalina Nicholson and while he felt like thanking her, because no way did he want anyone else in charge of her safety, he also needed to know what the hell Sahara Silver had gotten him into.
This was only Justice’s second ride-along, sort of a training session, and so far, he was too impulsive in Leese’s opinion. But he’d catch on soon enough.
“You think Sahara will keep us paired up?”
“We’re not partners, Justice. I’m training you, same as I got trained.”
“That’s why you got to hit the bozos and I didn’t?”
Leese resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Usually there’s no hitting involved, so don’t get ahead of yourself.” To further explain, he said, “For this case, I’m more like a close protection officer. Sometimes, depending on the job and the risk to the client, we might have a close protection group, but until meeting Catalina, no one thought that was necessary.” Groups were generally used when a politician or ambassador suspected an assassination attempt, meaning different levels of surveillance would be needed.
But for one petite schoolteacher?
“With that one,” Justice said, nodding toward the backseat where Cat slept, “I’m thinking a battalion might get a workout trying to keep up with her.”
Leese was beginning to think the same.
“Know what, Leese?”
“What?”
“I’d consider it more fun if I got to do some hitting too.”
With a lazy stretch and a purring groan, Cat came awake and sluggishly sat up. She rubbed her eyes while saying, “Then you’re in for a good time, stud, because if you stick with me, I predict there’ll be a lot of hitting in your future.”
“Stud?” Leese asked, already guessing she’d been awake for a while.
“That’s what he called himself, right?”
Justice grimaced. “You were playing possum?”
“More like caught between sleep and being awake. You’re funny, Justice, in an overblown, overconfident, somewhat misogynistic way.”
Leese elbowed him. “She’s saying you don’t have a healthy respect for women.”
“Not true!” Justice lifted his nose. “I love the ladies.”
Huffing a laugh, Cat turned to Leese. “And you’re quick with the comebacks. You two should take your act on the road.”
“Got our hands full keeping you safe, apparently.” Her eyes still looked slumberous, but little by little, the wariness crept back in. “We’ll be pulling into Body Armor in about five minutes.”
“That’s the name of the agency?”
“Yeah. Under new management.”
“Oh?”
“Sahara Silver.” Smiling, he spoke the truth. “And she’s going to love you.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s always looking for ways to make the agency’s rep sexier. And you definitely fit the bill.”
* * *
SAHARA SILVER STEPPED into the polished foyer of the agency she’d recently inherited. How she loved this place, the high-end decor, the modern lines...and the testosterone in the air.
She breathed deeply, then shivered.
Perfect, just perfect.
As several people looked up, she smiled. She’d been at the helm for a year now and still earned that curious, uncertain reaction. Her brother, God bless him, had been more sedate and far more serious. A wonderful businessman and an even better brother. She missed Scott every minute of every day, but being here, in the midst of all he’d built, she felt closer to him.
With her high heels clicking, she strode through, nodding to one and all on her way to the private elevator that’d take her to her office on one of the uppermost floors.
Anita, her lobby receptionist, rushed to meet her. “Ms. Silver, Mr. Phelps and Mr. Wallington went up about five minutes ago. They had a guest with them.”
Excitement rushed into her bloodstream. “That’s fine, Anita. Thank you.” Leese Phelps, always early, always ready. He was her favorite find for the agency. An MMA fighter turned bodyguard with an ability so incredible, he would rarely ever need to use a weapon beyond his fists.
Leese had also brought Justice Wallington into the fold. Such a colorful character. Where Leese added suave, quiet power to the agency, Justice brought cocky, irreverent outrageousness.
Justice was still being fine-tuned, but she had no doubt he’d be an amazing addition to the new, more modern segment of the business. She’d be launching him out on his own very soon.
After greeting Troy, the armed guard who stood watch over the private elevator, Sahara waved off the attendant and stepped inside to ride up to her office. She could only hope that the surprise guest would be yet another fighter for her to hone into an asset.
When she’d inherited the agency from Scott, it was like a lifeline, a way to remain attached to him even after he’d gone. Sixteen years older than her, Scott had practically raised her when their absentee parents chose to travel the world rather than be saddled with a “surprise” daughter. So many times Scott had brought her along to the office, let her observe and learn as she sat in on meetings both in preparation of assignments and in reporting outcomes.
Even then, when she was a fidgety preteen know-it-all, he’d encouraged her to voice her ideas and she always did. She was never short on opinions.
It wasn’t until she’d turned nineteen that she’d told him, in front of all the bodyguards during a big meeting, that he needed employees with more sex appeal.
Her brother had choked on his drink, and the men—all of them middle-aged and less than impressive—had tried to melt her with heated glares.
Too fast for her to further explain, Scott had ushered her from the room and, she assumed, spent the next hour smoothing ruffled feathers.
Bodyguards, in her opinion, should not have feathers. They should be made of steel, and they should appeal to the masses.
Regardless of the less than promising reaction from the staff at the time, she hadn’t been deterred. She’d thought about it more and more, a way to separate Body Armor from other agencies. Sex was in, the sexier the better.
Why couldn’t her agents be top of the class in both skill and persona? Why couldn’t they seduce with amazing talent and capability, as well as smoldering good looks?
The rich and elite, she knew, would pay a fortune for appearances mixed with talent. Under her guidance, Body Armor would offer it all.
She kept the other employees and offered them at a reduced rate. They stayed busy, the revenue continued to pour in and already Leese Phelps was in high demand. Soon, with any luck, she’d find a few more new hires and round out the employee cache with something for everyone.
Thinking ahead, always, she strode toward her personal receptionist, Enoch, who jumped to his feet to present her with her day’s agenda.
“Guests inside, Sahara. Leese and Justice, and they brought with them a young lady—”
She drew up short. “Not another fighter?”
He smiled. “Sorry, no. Or at least I assume she’s not.” He leaned in closer. “She’s rather small.”
Enoch knew her well enough to understand she preferred first names whenever possible, and because they got along so well, he was often very familiar. On any given day, Enoch was her right hand, her calendar and her friend. “Now I’m doubly curious.”
“Would you like to go over your schedule first, or after you meet with them?”
“I have time?”
“At least an hour.”
“Wonderful. Let’s do the schedule after.” Sahara smiled at him. “Could you bring us coffee and whatever...and see that I’m not disturbed while they’re here?”
“I’ll make a fresh pot.” Off he went, always so quick at his tasks.
She did love Enoch’s efficiency and understanding of her needs. If only she could find a man who—no.
The last thing she needed was a man in her life.
No time, not for that sort of nonsense, and not while shifting the agency into the powerhouse she wanted it to be.
Pasting on a smile, she opened the door and surged into her office. Leese stood looking out a window, hands in his back pockets. Justice took up most of the space on a small settee, his bulky arms stretched out along the back.
And in the chair facing her desk...
Sahara hurried in. “Hello.” She circled the chair to face the woman, then stepped back in surprise. “You’re Catalina Nicholson.”
“Yes.” With far too much caution, Catalina asked, “And you are?”
“Sahara Silver. I own the agency.” Brows up, she turned to Leese. “You brought her here...why?”
Folding his arms over his broad chest, Leese turned his compelling stare on Catalina. “I’m hoping she’ll tell us.” He watched her a moment, then said softly, “Cat? What’s it to be?”
Put on the spot, the girl glared back at Leese, then seemed to deflate. Her gaze shifted to Sahara, and damned if Sahara didn’t feel a thrill go up her spine. She just knew this was going to be something unexpected and stupendous.
Anxious to hear it, she said, “Go on.”
After a few more seconds of hesitation, Catalina asked, “Have you heard of Désir Island?”
* * *
JUDGING BY SAHARA’S startled reaction, Cat assumed she had indeed heard of the island and was aware of its awful reputation.
The beautiful brunette inhaled deeply, then rushed around to get comfortable in her chair. Forearms on her massive desk, expression rapt, she leaned forward. Both Leese and Justice were lost and, in truth, Cat was glad they didn’t know about the island.
Enthralled, titillated without having yet heard the details, Sahara urged, “Go on.”
Before Cat could, a man stepped in with a tray of coffee, fresh fruit, pastries and muffins.
Sahara didn’t miss a beat. “Excellent. I definitely need more caffeine. Pour us each a cup, will you, Enoch?”
“My pleasure.” Cups and saucers rattled as the assistant filled each cup. “Cream and sugar?”
“We can doctor them ourselves, but thank you.” Sahara reached for a gooey pastry. “Fresh from the bakery?”
“Of course.”
“You’re the perfect man, Enoch. Thank you.”
Smiling, Enoch departed and Sahara told Cat, “Please, help yourself.”
She hesitated, but what the heck. If everyone else could be blasé, she’d give it a try too. “All right, thank you.” After swallowing one big bite of a blueberry muffin, she asked, “You’re aware of what happens on the island?”
“Yes, of course. Decadence. Perversion.” Sahara waved a pastry. “Anything and everything sexual that money can buy.”
Leese came around closer to Cat, which she appreciated, and propped a hip on the desk. After a sip of coffee, he asked, “Where is this place?”
“It’s near the Virgin Islands. Uninhabited until twenty or so years ago. Since then it’s been built up and used for...” Cat swallowed, unable to say it.
Sahara didn’t have the same problem. “It’s a privately owned playground for the global ultrarich. Anything goes if you have enough money or influence, preferably both. Many politicians love it for the secrecy. It provides every luxury you can imagine with a small, posh hotel, a helipad for invited guests only and plenty of space for orgies.”
“Orgies?” Leese asked, one brow climbing high.
Sahara nodded around another bite. “Lots of nasty business going on there. Like I said, anything can be bought if you offer the right price, whether it’s legal or not, whether all participants are willing or not.”
Now both of Leese’s brows snapped down. “You’re talking rape?”
“Sadly, yes. There’ve been accusations, some of them truly gruesome, but none have been proven because witnesses have a way of changing their tune, probably after being bought off, or they disappear, likely—”
“Murdered.” The second the word left her mouth, Cat’s stomach jolted. Oh God, she’d said it aloud. She fought off the panic, knowing she’d just crossed a line; she’d admitted the awful truth, trusted these people when for so long she’d been afraid to trust anyone, even her family.
But what choice did she have? She couldn’t continue living her life on the run, and she didn’t want to end up on that island, a victim herself. Sooner or later she had to share it all. For whatever innate reasons existed, she trusted Leese. Really trusted him.
By association, she trusted his closest colleagues. She couldn’t believe he would bring her here, ask her to explain everything to Sahara and Justice, if he didn’t know it would be safe.
On top of that, she was in a secure building, shielded from threats. Justice had already gotten past her guard and, as the owner of the elite bodyguard agency, Sahara seemed to have a measure of her own power.
When would another, better opportunity present itself?
Now that the truth was out there, it brought about a heavy silence. Disbelief? Uncertainty?
Accusation?
Without knowing what they all might think, Cat sipped her coffee and waited in an agony of suspense.
“Jesus,” Justice rumbled, sitting forward now too. He snagged up a cup, black, and swilled back half of it.
Leese shifted uneasily. “And Webb?”
“I don’t know!” Emotions propelled her from her seat. She set the cup aside with more noise than necessary and strode to the window, needing to see the view to breathe, to feel less trapped in the awful circumstances.
The vantage point of the office offered a view of the Ohio River, disturbed only by a few slow-moving barges. Ice and snow lined the shore and a sluggish sun struggled to shine through dark, rolling clouds.
The day looked as miserable as she felt.
Despite the bitter cold of the morning, cars filled the bridges and people went about their business. None of them had a clue what fate could dole out.
That was nice. She didn’t want others to have to be as hyper-aware of threats as she’d recently become.
When she sighed, her warm breath frosted the window.
Knowing she’d stalled too long, Cat whispered, “My stepfather...he knows about it. He might only be involved in covering it up.” Or he could be guilty of the violent acts. She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Leese’s hands settled on her shoulders and he drew her back against his chest, his chin atop her head. He said nothing, just held her, surrounding her in his size and scent and power.
In the reflection of the window, Cat saw Sahara look to Justice for an explanation, and she saw Justice shrug in a “haven’t got a clue” sort of way.
So Leese didn’t embrace every client? This was an aberration for him? Nice to know. But it was still confusing—to her, and obviously to his boss and his colleague.
Clearly, no one understood it, least of all her, but Leese made her feel as if all the bad things in the world couldn’t touch her, not when he was close, and that robbed her of the debilitating panic.
She took one deep breath, then another. “A woman was killed.”
“Who?” Sahara asked sharply.
There’d be no backing out now. Still, she couldn’t tell them everything. She didn’t dare.
The less they knew, the safer they’d be. She’d have to start juggling and, blast it all, she wasn’t that coordinated.
“I only know her name.” Cat pressed closer to Leese, stealing some of his strength. “And her age.”
Leese waited.
Grateful for his patience, she sorted her thoughts. Though she’d already decided these people wouldn’t hurt her, she needed further verification before she said anything more. “I can trust everyone here not to repeat what I’m going to tell you, right? If the wrong people find out—”
“You can trust us,” Sahara assured her.
“Besides,” Leese said, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze, “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, remember?”
He didn’t seem to mind that others were watching, and Cat wasn’t sure what to make of that.
Flustered, she stated, “It can’t leave this room.”
“Then it won’t,” Sahara promised.
Accepting that, Cat drew a breath and whispered, “Georgia Bell. She was only eighteen.”
Justice cursed softly. “So young.”
Wretched grief welled up. Every time Cat thought about it, about a young girl scared and alone and desperate, it broke her heart all over again. That poor, poor girl. How badly had she suffered?
And if the ones responsible found her, would Cat suffer the same fate?
Leese interrupted that thought by rubbing her shoulders. “Do you know how and why she was killed?”
The memory made Cat shiver. “From what I overheard, Georgia was hired to waitress at a private party on the island. Because she was offered so much money, she agreed—but only to waitressing. She didn’t understand that the offer came with certain expectations regardless of how she’d feel about it.”
“Like?” Leese asked.
This was the tricky part, where she had to dance around the truth without revealing too much. “One of my stepfather’s more influential friends—” a name they’d all recognize, if she shared that much “—wanted her for...more. She agreed, to an extent.”
As Cat spoke, the words came faster, more strained, matching the frantic beat of her heart.
“But I guess he took it too far because at one point Georgia wanted to leave.”
“You’re sure?” Justice asked. He scratched his left ear, thinking aloud. “If she said yes to something—”
Cat almost lost it. She jerked around to face Justice, wanting, needing a little violence. If he’d been closer, she might have slugged him.
As it was, Leese held her back when she started to lunge forward.
Fine. She still had her voice, and by God, no one would rob her of that. “She agreed to sex with one man. She said no to others joining them, and she obviously said no to being a sideshow. And no, as far as I’m concerned, always means no.”
Eyebrows shooting up, Justice said, “I agree one hundred percent, honey, so spew the venom elsewhere. Rapists are at the top of my list of scum of the earth, right up there with child abusers. I was just going for clarification. How do you know what happened? Were you there?”
“Oh God, no.” She shook her head hard. If she had her way, that damned island would be blown to pieces. “I know Georgia refused, because that’s what they said.” The turbulent mix of anger and panic descended on her again. “They joked, laughing over how she wanted to leave but saying it was already too late for that and they couldn’t let her, so they...they killed her.” She squeezed her eyes shut, horrified anew at the blasé discussion of cold-blooded murder.
They’d talked about ending an eighteen-year-old girl with the same lack of empathy they’d have given to an annoying fly.
“Shh.” Leese turned her into his embrace and his big hands moved up and down her back. “Take it easy.”
Until he soothed her, she hadn’t realized how badly she trembled.
No one spoke and by the second she felt more like a wimp. She knew Sahara watched them with wide-eyed incredulity, and that Justice was confused by his friend’s familiarity. By letting Leese comfort her, she was putting his job at risk. He couldn’t get in trouble over her.
Somehow she had to get it together.
But it was a struggle. Georgia Bell had been gone for months now, but for Cat, the horror was fresh, as if it had happened just yesterday. The cut felt raw and still far too painful.
A steadying breath helped a little. Trying to compose herself, she levered away from Leese’s comfort. If this was her time of confession, she needed to get through it.
Leese kept his hands on her upper arms and dipped down a bit to look her in the eye. “How do you know all this?”
In the quietest of whispers, she confessed, “I overheard it all.”
Leese’s hands tightened. “And the killers know it?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“See,” Justice said, his hands out, “this is what I was trying to get to, the deets on how you know what you know.” He grumbled low to himself, “Accusin’ me of supporting abuse. That’s bullshit.”
He looked a little wrecked that she’d ever misunderstood, so Cat gave him an apologetic nod. “They were all in Webb’s boathouse, only I didn’t expect to find anyone there.”
Leese barely breathed. “Webb too?”
She nodded. “It was too late in the season to take out the boat and it’s not like Webb or his buddies like to fish. But we’d gotten that early freeze and I wanted to capture everything in photos to paint it later, maybe even to use as a project for the class, to show them how the ice sparkled and...” Dumb. So very, very dumb. None of that mattered now. “Anyway, when I got close I heard people talking. That didn’t make any sense to me because no one used the boathouse in the winter. At first I listened, trying to figure out who was there. I was going to report them.” To Webb, who she’d figured would run them off. She’d been such a fool.
“That’s what most people would do,” Leese assured her.
“If only it had been vandals, or someone just trespassing. But it wasn’t. By the time I understood what they were talking about, it was too late.” Over and over they’d said her name, Georgia Bell, a young lady who’d been used, and then murdered.
As if she was no one important, as if her death didn’t matter.
To them, she’d been an expendable girl, easily discarded.
“I was standing there, I guess almost in shock, when they stepped out and...saw me.”
Leese tightened his jaw.
“There was no place to hide. I was in my black coat, jeans and boots, standing in the white snow. It’s not like they could have missed me. I tried to bluff, like I hadn’t caught anything important. I tried to act surprised to see them, but welcoming.” As usual, because she knew them all, had met them many times. Closing her eyes, she said, “But I guess they could still tell. They looked at each other as if coming to some silent agreement.”
Hand to her throat, Sahara asked, “An agreement for what?”
“To get rid of me too. To remove the possibility of me telling anyone what I’d heard.”
Gently, Leese said, “You can’t know that for sure.”
But she did. “Webb looked...” Devastated. Destroyed. But still resigned. “I could tell he wouldn’t defend me. Or maybe it’s that he couldn’t. I’m not sure.”
“Because you don’t know for sure if he’s involved,” Justice said.
“I would never have believed it if I hadn’t heard them all talking. They admitted having Georgia killed, her throat cut—” What level of horror had that young girl faced? “—her body disposed of on the island. When asked, Webb agreed to help provide alibis for them. The plan was that he’d claim they’d been with him, at his home, the weekend Georgia went to the island.” Believable, since the men had been to his home before. “I’d say that makes him pretty damned guilty.”
Leese nodded. “Agreed.”
“But how would that cover all their tracks?” Justice asked. “They had to get to the island somehow, right? There must be records...”
Sahara answered. “For enough money, the helicopter pilots would keep silent, bury the paperwork—and do whatever was asked. The super wealthy always have those who will cover for them.”
Cat drew a shuddering breath.“The way those men all looked at me...” She couldn’t forget how Tesh had slowly smiled, his visible anticipation for what he probably saw as an opportunity.
For too many years that lech had wanted her and he’d seen this, her giant faux pas, as his best bet to get his hands on her.
“Cat?”
She met Leese’s gaze.
“You keep saying ‘them.’ Who are we talking about?”
If she told the truth, would they even believe her? Cat had her doubts, so she hedged. “It was Webb and another man meeting, plus two personal guards.”
“So four men, total?” Sahara asked.
“Yes. Tesh was one of them.”
“He’s associated with your stepfather?” Sahara clarified.
“Yes.”
Leese glanced back at Sahara. “You knew he was her stepfather, not her dad?”
“Yes, but to me he seemed as concerned and genuine as any father could be. He said Cat was out on her own, and he wanted her protected because she’d lived such a pampered life. He was afraid her naïveté would get her into trouble.” She frowned. “I hate that I was apparently duped.”
Leese came back around to Cat. “Tesh works for Webb?”
“For the other man, actually. But Webb has known him for a long time. Since I was...” That invisible fist closed on her throat again. “Eighteen.”
Because he didn’t miss much, Leese muttered, “The same age as Georgia.”
She nodded. “Webb considered him trustworthy, so there were times he ‘borrowed’ him for special tasks. More than once Tesh was assigned to watch over me.” During those times, he’d refer to her as Kitten even though he knew it annoyed her. As she’d matured she grew to understand that Tesh didn’t consider her a person so much as his own personal pet.
“I met the man.” With visible irritation, Leese said, “That’s like hiring the fox to watch the henhouse.”
Cat agreed. “I hated it. The way Tesh looks at me, it’s always given me the creeps.”
“Saw it,” Justice said. “Dude wants you bad.”
“More than that,” Leese said. “He feels some ownership.”
“No.” Cat pushed out of his arms and backed away from him. “He has no reason to—” She squeaked when Leese pulled her right back in.
“I said he feels it, not that he has a right to it.”
She blinked fast, startled by how quickly he’d moved, and pretty darned pleased to be close to him again. “Oh.”
Keeping her right there, Leese turned them both to face Sahara. She looked fascinated. And once again titillated.
“We ran into Tesh on the way here.”
“Do tell.”
While Leese related the story to Sahara, Cat eased away from him and returned to her coffee. The caffeine kick could only help, so she took a big drink. When she caught Justice watching her, she frowned.
He nodded back. “You have guts.”
How in the world could he think that? She’d been an awful coward. Rather than see justice for poor Georgia, she’d run away. She’d valued her own life more. She’d—
“Give me the names of the other men.”
Uh-oh. Here’s where it got bad. Refusing to cower, Cat faced Leese without blinking, and lied. “I don’t know their names.”
He gave her a brief but intense scrutiny. “Yes, you do.”
“Sorry, I don’t.”
He crossed his arms.
Why was that so damned intimidating? “Please understand, Leese.” Her palms started to sweat, especially with Sahara and Justice now scowling at her. “The entire reason I’m in danger is because—”
“The other man is a public figure,” Leese guessed. “Recognizable name with a lot to lose if you share what you know.”
Tread carefully, she warned herself. As if she didn’t know more, Cat said, “He was with my stepfather, he’d been to the island, so yes, I assume he has amazing contacts everywhere, including with the police.”
“Local police?” Sahara asked.
If only it was that simple. “I know Webb has influence with the highest levels of law enforcement.” Like...all the way to the US attorney general.
With one finger under her chin, Leese brought her gaze back to his. “You can’t keep it secret forever.”
That had initially been her plan, to prove she wouldn’t squeal until everyone calmed down. At first, it was the only thing she could think of, a blind panic sort of decision.
But it haunted her, what happened to that poor girl and how cavalier the men had been about robbing her of life. Staying silent wasn’t the answer because the coward’s way never worked.
If only she’d realized that sooner.
“We need the names of everyone in the boathouse that day,” Sahara insisted.
“I know.” She really did. “The other guard was familiar. I might be able to remember his name. I just need some time to think.”
Not at all fooled, Leese said, “And your stepfather’s associate?”
The public loved him, saw him as kind and caring. How could she trust they’d believe her, and even if they did, then what? “I’ve probably seen him before, but I don’t remember.” Please let them believe me. “I’ll try to work it out.” For too long, survival was all she’d had. Now, thanks to Leese, she could sit down and really decide what to do, and when to do it.
Just giving them names wasn’t the answer; that’d only put them all at risk.
There was more Leese needed to know so he’d truly understand. Hopefully, in telling him some truths, she could keep him from breaking down her lies. “I ran that day, the same day I overheard them talking. Literally, I mean. I turned and ran as fast as I could. Webb called my name but I didn’t acknowledge him. I kept waiting for a bullet to hit me in the back.”
Leese went more rigid.
“But it didn’t. They didn’t even chase me that hard. I got to my car and then I wasn’t sure what to do except drive. I was barely on the road when my cell started ringing.”
“Your stepfather?”
She nodded. “He told me to come back, that he could explain. He promised we’d work it out. When I refused, he warned me that no one would believe me, that it’d be really stupid for me to start spreading tales about things I knew nothing about.” Tension crept into her neck and shoulders, making her temples throb. “It was so stupid of me, but I told him what I’d heard, that I knew he’d planned to cover up a murder.”
No one said a word.
“He laughed at me. Actually laughed.” It had been a sick, almost hysterical sound that escalated Cat’s fear. “He said I misunderstood, that’s all.”
“Is that possible?” Justice asked.
God, how she wished. “No.” Best to get it told quickly and have it out of the way. “I said I was going to the police. He stopped laughing real fast and instead told me the police were owned and I’d end up the victim if I ever again said anything that stupid. That’s when I realized Tesh was behind me. When I told Webb that, he literally begged me to pull over, to let Tesh bring me home.” Home. Once, long ago, that’s what it had been to her. Even after she’d moved out, she’d still considered it home.
Never again.
“He said if I went to the police, he couldn’t help me. That it’d be out of his hands. But with Tesh so close behind me, I couldn’t think of another option to get away. Then I ran through a red light and Tesh tried to follow.”
“Tried?” Leese asked.
“He got T-boned by a van.” She met his gaze. “I slowed down long enough to see the driver of the van get out, then I took off again. Until I saw Tesh this morning, I didn’t know if he’d survived that day or not. So many men had followed me, but none of them were Tesh.”
“Maybe because he was the most recognizable,” Leese said.
“Probably.”
Sahara crossed her legs, her fingernails tapping on the desktop. “I take it you didn’t go to the police after all?”
“I was closer to my house so I went there first.”
“Cat,” Leese chastised.
And yes, she felt like a fool. “It was stupid, I know. But I couldn’t think straight. I wanted to get inside and lock my doors and maybe call someone.”
“But?”
“Men were already there, peeking in the windows and trying the door, so I didn’t stop. I called my brother, Holt, but another man answered and before I’d even spoken, he told me I needed to return to Webb. It was like a nightmare.”
“No one got to you?” Leese asked.
She shook her head. “I didn’t give anyone a chance. I realized then that if I went anywhere obvious—”
“Like the police station?” Justice asked.
“—more men would be waiting for me. I called Webb back and said I wouldn’t talk. I hoped it would buy me some time, but he said there wasn’t anything to talk about. Either I came home, or I was on my own.”
Those words had felt so final, and so fatal.
“I told him I’d been on my own for a while. He really did sound apologetic when he reminded me that everyone knew how I’d separated from the family. Past actions, he claimed, had already discredited me, and if I forced his hand, he’d let the whole world know how...unstable I am.”
“What did he mean?” Sahara asked. “Was there a big blowup when you moved out?”
“No, nothing like that. I just moved out, as many young people do.” That no one had protested, or seemed to care, still hurt her. “I continued to visit with my family, but I didn’t do any more of the parties, the fund-raisers, the galas. It was never my thing anyway. I’m more comfortable at a McDonald’s talking to the other people in line or instructing my class of nine-year-olds on a project than I ever was at a big fancy party.”
Sahara said, “I’ve always loved dressing up.”
“Sure, me too. That part was great. But I’d mess up every time.”
“How?” Leese asked, and he looked irate about it.
She rolled one shoulder. “I could never get the hang of the right attire. I’d have a knee-length dress when others wore long, or I’d wear bright colors when others wore pastels. I’d laugh at the wrong things. Or I’d laugh too loud. We’d start dancing and not until it was too late would I realize I was the only one really cutting loose.”
Justice grinned. “Like to dance, do you?”
“Yes. But my idea of dancing and their idea were two very different things.” Might as well admit all her flaws and get it out of the way. “I have no sense of direction either. I’d head for the powder room and end up in the kitchen. If I drank even a little bit, I’d get tipsy, which only amplified all the things I did wrong. Worst of all, the small talk never felt small to me. I was always worried about slipping up and saying something inappropriate.” As in dumb. Or embarrassing. She gestured at Leese. “Ask him. He’ll tell you that I speak without thinking.”
Leese, brows still pinched, said nothing at all.
Justice grinned.
Feeling she had to defend herself, she said, “I moved out without fanfare and went about my life. Not mad, just...apart. Only there was gossip. Rich or poor, affluent or mundane, there’s always gossip. Folks said I disappeared because I had a nervous breakdown, or that I was run off because I’m an embarrassment. One old...” She quickly censored herself. “...busybody even claimed I had a medical affliction of the mental sort, only she didn’t put it that nicely. There was speculation on whether or not I was a drug addict, which would explain my weirdness, or if I’d gotten pregnant by a convict...all sorts of idiotic things. My brothers ignored it. Mother was furious so Webb tried to correct it. I honestly didn’t care. In fact, at the time, I thought it was almost funny. Now, though...”
“It’s a basis,” Leese said. “A way for your stepfather to embellish what was already started. He can go back and rewrite history any way he wants.”
“Yup. I’m afraid so.” She looked only at Leese, not anyone else. “I know I’m odd.” She shook her head, stopping his objection. “I still haven’t learned the knack of thinking before speaking, or the right things to wear. With my students, it doesn’t matter. I wear smocks and we laugh and we have a good time.”
“You should always be comfortable,” Sahara said, and with a shrug she added, “Create your own fashion and to hell with others.”
If only it was that easy. “My mother always said I was too honest. Webb said I was immature. It’s the truth, after moving out, I did what I wanted, when I wanted, without considering ramifications.”
“Like running?” Justice asked.
“It wasn’t the easiest choice. Nothing about it has been easy. But Webb and his cronies are powerful men with so much reach, I wasn’t sure who to trust.” And she needed to stop making excuses. Sitting a little straighter, she admitted, “I decided it’d just be best to take off for a while. So I did.”
“An understandable reaction.” Justice patted her shoulder with his massive paw. “No one blames you.”
She wasn’t sure about that. Leese watched her, but he didn’t say anything. She should have been stronger, tried harder. I should have found a way.
“We’re going to work this out,” Sahara said, all but rubbing her hands together. “We won’t let Georgia’s death be swept away.”
Cat feared it already had been. “What can you do?”
“What can’t I do?” she replied. “But first things first. We need to keep you safe.”
“I’ll see to it.” Leese again stood next to her.
So maybe he didn’t blame her, after all. Didn’t matter, since she blamed herself. But she’d hate to lose him as an ally.
“Yes,” Sahara purred. “I can see that you will. Perhaps you’ll also encourage her to remember that other name?”
“I’ll do my best.”
Cat gulped. His best was probably pretty damned awesome.
“What can I do?” Justice asked.
“Nothing,” Sahara told him. “I have a different job coming up for you. You may as well stick with me the rest of the month. I’d like to assess you.”
He shifted uneasily. “Assess me?”
“She does it with all the new hires,” Leese assured him.
“This is my only chance,” Sahara said, “since soon you’ll accompany the client nonstop.”
“I will?”
“Yes, you see, a certain actor—very hush-hush—who’ll be playing a part in an upcoming MMA movie wants someone who knows the ropes to be his bodyguard. I sold you as the real deal who could not only advise him and teach him the lingo, the rules and routines, but also be his protection at the same time.”
Justice blinked at her. “I... Wow.” Then with accusation, he barked at Leese, “This job is nothing like you claimed it’d be.”
“Complaints?” Leese asked.
“No.” Somewhat dazed, Justice said, “Hell man, I’m lovin’ it.”
Sahara regained their attention. “I have an excellent PI who I’ll have look into Georgia’s death.”
Sharp fear coursed through Cat. “Oh, but—”
“A girl can’t just go missing without someone noticing, right?”
“PI?” Leese asked her, a note of mistrust in his tone. “Who?”
Sahara squeezed his arm. “The same one investigating my brother’s death.”
All news to Catalina, but Leese seemed to understand, so she figured she’d ask him later. If Leese trusted the man, she would too.
Except for one problem. “If you start digging, you’ll lead them straight back to me. I’m sure they already have computer people watching for me to pop up anywhere. I haven’t dared send an email or touch my Facebook. When I withdrew what cash I could from my accounts, I immediately took off. I was afraid the withdrawal could somehow lead them to me. I haven’t used my name anywhere, or any of my credit cards. I’ve tried really, really hard to leave no tracks at all.”
Unconcerned with her panic, Sahara said, “I promise we can be completely discreet. And until we uncover something, you can stay here, perfectly protected.”
“Here?” Still shaken by the idea of anyone poking around—and possibly leaving her exposed—Cat again took in the posh office. Dark wood, plush furniture, massive television screen and full connecting bath; it had all the amenities except a kitchen. Still, she couldn’t see staying in an office.
Not for any length of time.
“Here,” Sahara explained, “in the building. Scott kept a suite but I haven’t used it because...” She tapered off, then whispered, “He was my brother.”
Catalina faltered. For only a flash she saw the same grief she felt mirrored in Sahara’s eyes. She remembered Leese telling her that the agency was under new management—and then she understood. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me too.” Sahara let out a breath, then launched back into business. “There are women’s clothes, makeup, lotions... I don’t know. Many things. They belonged to one of Scott’s girlfriends, who also supposedly died. The last girl was as slim as you, but somewhat taller—who isn’t, right? Feel free to use whatever you can.”
Harking back to the “supposedly died,” Cat wondered what exactly had happened to Sahara’s brother.
Shaking off the melancholy, Sahara said, “You’ll find the suite quite comfortable and I promise you, the security here is top-notch. You don’t need to worry.”
She’d worry if she wanted to, and apparently she did because dread churned in her stomach. The questions were piling up, but she’d save them for Leese, after they were alone.
A tap sounded on her door and Enoch stuck his head in. “I apologize for interrupting, but you might want to take this call.”
Unhappy with the intrusion, Sahara asked, “Who is it?”
“Webb Nicholson, and he says it’s urgent.”
