Deadly Cover-Up. Julie Anne Lindsey
smiled at the massive Wyatt-shaped shadow on the wall. He must’ve gotten his cell phone light out again. “Read. I was going to be a pilot like Amelia Earhart, or a Nobel Prize–winner like Marie Curie. Maybe a scientist like Jane Goodall.” Violet had bored her grandma to death recounting all the things she’d learned up there.
“Are you?” Wyatt’s deep tenor voice carried through the quiet air.
Violet chuckled, bouncing Maggie gently against her chest. “What? A pilot or Nobel Prize–winner or scientist? No. I’m a fifth-grade language arts teacher.” As it turned out, Violet enjoyed telling others the things she knew more than she wanted to go off and do them herself. She only wished her grandpa had lived to see her with her class, sharing the stories he’d loved with them. He would’ve been so proud. And he would have loved Maggie.
Wyatt’s steady footfall moved back toward the ladder. “There’s a good-sized bare spot up here. Looks like either something pretty big was kept here or someone was clearing a spot for some reason.”
“How would anything get up there?” That was the whole conundrum, wasn’t it? “Grandma couldn’t carry anything up a ladder, especially something large.” And they’d already established that she hadn’t fallen from the ladder. She’d probably never even been on it.
Wyatt’s long legs swung into view, and he returned to her side by way of the creaky rungs. “Take a look.” He brushed his hands against his thighs, then turned his camera to face her. A picture of the dispersed hay overhead centered the screen.
“It looks like someone was just kicking it around to me,” Violet said. “The whole floor is dusty. The space would be cleaner if something had been there long.”
Wyatt rubbed the back of his neck, then the thick black stubble over his cheeks. “You’re right. I should’ve seen that.” He pressed his fingertips against heavy-lidded eyes. “I know you’ve had an awful day, and you’re still deciding what to think of me, but can I trouble you for some coffee? I’ve got enough work to keep me busy a while, and I’ve been on the road all day.”
Violet pulled her gaze to the open barn door and back. She’d checked out Wyatt’s company website on her cell phone, using the business card he’d given her, while she’d waited briefly outside. Under the tab with details about the protectors for hire, she’d found photos of Wyatt. Posing in his dress greens. Running drills in fatigues. He seemed to be who he said he was. One founder of a private protection firm in Lexington. “What kind of work do you have to do tonight?”
He dropped his hands to his sides, then stuffed long fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t see any signs of forced entry inside the home, so I’d like to replace the locks and dead bolts for starters, install motion lights at the front and back of the house, and add chains on the main entries.”
“You’re doing all that tonight?” Violet squeaked. Did he think that whoever had broken in and knocked her down might come back? A shiver coursed over her and she held Maggie tighter.
“Basic precautions,” he said. “I’ve got everything I need in my truck, and a copy of your grandma’s contract if you want to see it. Given the circumstances, I think she’d allow that.”
Suddenly, the stranger before her seemed like the safer, handsomer of two unknowns. Violet was certain she’d sleep better with new locks and a trained military man under her roof. Besides, it was after ten already, and Maggie never slept past six. If Violet didn’t get to bed soon, she wouldn’t get much sleep.
Wyatt ducked his head. “I don’t mind sleeping in my truck and starting tomorrow if that makes you more comfortable.” He moved toward the string for the light and slowed for Violet to pass. “You’ve been through a lot today, and I’ve slept in that truck more often than my bed this month. I’d still like to get the new locks on first.” His cheek ticked up in a lazy half smile before he shut it down.
Violet stopped to face him. She chewed her lip in indecision. “Why did Grandma choose you?”
“I’m the best.”
Violet made a show of rolling her eyes, silently thankful for his efforts at levity given the day she’d had. “Humble, too.”
Wyatt pulled the light string, delivering them into darkness as they made their way back outside. “I advertised strategically. Specifically to women’s groups, yoga studios, churches that had events likely to be attended by elderly civilians. Word spread like wildfire. I suppose she found me that way.”
Violet narrowed her eyes. “So you targeted women and old folks.”
He nodded confidently. “Statistically they’re the most common targets for violent crimes, harassment and stalking. I wanted to make a difference, not play bodyguard for some rich jerks.”
Violet mulled the answer, impressed yet again. “You were planning to stay with Grandma while you’re in River Gorge?”
“That was the agreement,” he said. Wyatt matched his pace to hers as they walked back across the lawn to Grandma’s home. “I have a week blocked off on my calendar for this, but I can stay longer if something changes. Mrs. Ames only said she had something to take care of, and she wanted the freedom to do it without having to watch over her shoulder.” He grinned, sneaking a quick look in Violet’s direction. “I was going to be her nephew, visiting from Lexington.”
Violet rubbed the creases she felt gathering on her forehead. That cover story made Wyatt her relative, and it didn’t say much about her, given the things she’d already thought about him. Like how nice he might look without a shirt. Or pants.
She turned her heated cheeks away.
It wasn’t like her grandma to meddle, so Violet could only assume that whatever was going on had been dropped into her lap. And it must be something big to force Grandma’s involvement and require a bodyguard.
She slowed at the front porch and turned to face Wyatt. “Will you be able to find out if her fall was an accident?”
“Yes.”
“And if it wasn’t, will you find out who hurt her?”
He dipped his chin in sharp confirmation. “I won’t leave town till I do.”
Violet evaluated the giant before her. He certainly seemed legit, and her grandma had chosen him. She’d even trusted him to stay with her while she did whatever it was that she was doing. “Okay,” she said, resting her cheek on top of Maggie’s head. “You can stay, and you don’t need to sleep in your truck.” She marched up the steps before she changed her mind. “I’ll make up the couch and put on the coffee.”
They went their separate ways then. Wyatt to his truck for his bags. Violet to set up a portable crib for Maggie in her grandmother’s bedroom. She returned a few minutes later with a baby monitor and bedding to cover the couch.
Wyatt was already hard at work changing door locks in the kitchen. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t let me in tonight,” he said, attention fixed on the open door and his work.
“I wouldn’t have cared,” she said with a smile. If she’d suspected he was a danger to Maggie, his feelings would have been the least of her concerns.
Wyatt released a low chuckle. “Fair enough.”
She started the coffee, then stuck a mug under the drip. “Cream or sugar?”
He shook his head in the negative. “Just the caffeine.”
“Right.” She carried the cup of coffee to her handsome handyman, then turned in a small circle, deciding where to begin remedying the mess left by an intruder.
She started with shutting cupboards and drawers, then moved on to clearing the counters. “What do you think Grandma was looking into that made her so afraid that she called you?”
“Well.” Wyatt shut the back door and tested the locks before tossing a set