Accidental Bodyguard. Sharon Hartley
was halfway out the door. He needed to go. Please go.
“I’ve got to study,” she said.
“What are you studying?”
She sighed. Me and my big mouth. “For the physician’s assistant exam.” She gripped the doorknob, signaling she meant to shut it, shut him out, that she wanted him to leave.
“You’ll need to take a break at some point.”
“But I shouldn’t drink booze on that break. Thanks again, Mr. Richards, but I need to get back to it.”
Still he hesitated, glancing back inside the cabana. “Are you proficient with that Glock?” he asked.
The quick change in subject caught her off guard, making her blurt out the truth. “I can pull the trigger, but don’t usually hit where I want.”
His gaze refocused on her. His eyes were insanely intense. Did this man know how he affected her? Probably. Likely all women reacted to him the same way. How could any heterosexual female help herself? She took a deep breath, feeling her resolve slip away.
“Practice makes perfect,” he murmured.
Remembering his gun when he’d arrived at the door, she wanted to ask if he was an expert shot. Of course he was. He was the security chief. Could he teach her how to hit her targets? Yeah, and what else could he show her?
She felt a delicious pull low in her belly, and opened her mouth to ask him to stay and begin a few lessons, but swallowed the words. Get a grip, Claudia. Remember—you can’t trust anyone.
“See you around,” Richards said and finally, thankfully moved outside.
Claudia closed the door and leaned against it. She closed her eyes, disgusted with herself. She was practically panting.
She waited until Richards had closed the gate and driven away on his cart, pulled off her shorts and dived into the pool. The blast of water was better than a cold shower.
* * *
BACK IN THE security office, Jack replayed his encounter with Louise Clark in his head. He’d been blown away by the fact that she didn’t want P.J. fired, figuring she’d want the kid’s balls nailed to the wall. Yet he was madder about the security breach than she was. He was considering cutting the kid a break, but could never trust him again. He’d feel compelled to check the security feed and the timing each time P.J. serviced the pools.
So Louise owned a gun and, from what she said, had obviously done some target practice. Was shooting a hobby or did she need to be proficient because of some threat? And who were these mysterious people who didn’t think she was forgiving? Why was she used to cleaning up puke? She was studying to be a PA, so maybe she was a nurse.
Damned perplexing. But he loved to solve a good riddle. Besides, what else did he have to do?
Ike Gamble, one of the guards on roving duty today, motored to a stop out front on his electric cart. The other, Rafael Garcia, arrived a minute later on his. They’d completed a circuit and were taking their afternoon break. The two entered the office animatedly discussing the excitement at Villa Alma.
“Good job today, guys,” Jack told them. “I appreciate how fast you responded.”
“Man, what a rush,” Rafael said in his slight accent. He was a new hire, a Hispanic man in his thirties carrying a few extra pounds. “That’s the first time I ever responded to an alarm.”
“And hopefully the last,” Jack said.
“Everything all right inside Villa Alma?” Ike asked.
“Yeah, false alarm. The new tenant pushed the panic button by mistake.”
Ike nodded. “That happens every so often.”
“Sure broke up the day,” Rafael said. “I wish it happened more often.”
“You wouldn’t say that if someone had been inside bleeding or dead,” Jack said. Yet he’d once felt the way Rafael did. As a deputy sheriff in Marion County, he’d craved action like a junkie craves smack. But Rafael had no military or police experience. All he knew was the boredom of Collins Island. He didn’t understand how in a heartbeat a thrill could turn tragic.
The phone rang, and Jack reached to answer. “Break is over,” he told the guards.
“Okay, boss,” Rafael said, hiking up his belt, his hand moving protectively over the Taser as if he was on his way to the OK Corral.
Jack grinned. “Be careful out there.”
Ike rolled his eyes as he left the office.
“Security,” Jack barked into the phone.
“This is Lola,” she said needlessly in her distinctive voice. “I’m calling to remind you about the all-hands meeting tomorrow morning.”
“I forgot about that.”
“Conveniently, as usual. Thus the call. You know how I look out for you, Jack.”
“Can I skip it this time? Those meetings are nothing but a time suck.”
“Yet required for all available operatives. You’re expected at 9:00 a.m.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there,” Jack grumbled. He’d have to take the 8:00 a.m. ferry to make the meeting on time.
“I also wanted to let you know the facial recognition program didn’t get a hit on Louise Clark.”
“Too bad.” Jack suppressed a stab of disappointment. Damn. Was he craving action now, too? “Well, at least she’s not a known criminal.”
“She’s not in any law enforcement database we have access to,” Lola said, “so she’s never been arrested.”
“Good to know. Thanks, Lola.”
“So what are you going to do about her?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Liar.”
“I’m wounded,” he said, deliberately making his voice aggrieved.
“No. You’re curious and you won’t let it alone until you figure out what bothers you.”
“I have work to do,” he said, and disconnected.
Which wasn’t a lie. He wanted to complete the paperwork documenting the alarm this afternoon. Even as a deputy sheriff, Jack’s work habit was to get the paperwork out of the way immediately. Putting off drudgery only made a boring task loom larger and harder to initiate.
He pulled up the form on the flat-screen monitor, renamed a file for today’s incident and stared at the blanks he needed to complete. Lola had labeled him a liar, a dig that bothered him. She knew how much he valued the truth. What she didn’t know was he was about to file a false report, something he’d never done in his career.
And why was he doing it? What P.J. had done was not only against every Collins Island rule, but criminal. Although, yeah, no harm done except to Louise Clark’s mental health. Would it be better to fire the kid to teach him a hard lesson about following the rules? That lesson could alter his life. He might need the money for tuition and have to drop out of school. Jobs were still hard to come by for kids. An angry teenager could turn sullen and bitter.
Jack closed the file without entering a single word. He wanted to think about what he’d put in his report a little longer. Maybe he’d watch P.J. for a few weeks, see what happened. The report wasn’t due until the end of his stint as director.
Jack’s gaze drifted to the surveillance feed switching from camera to camera around the island. Everything remained calm. As usual, he thought, mimicking Lola’s comment.
When the stream landed on Villa Alma’s impressive front gate, he froze the image on a secondary monitor and leaned back in his chair. Was he considering