Bayou Bodyguard. Jana DeLeon
More like a brother-sister sort of thing. His former intensity had made him look dangerous and sexy. The smile made him human. He released Olivia and reached into his Jeep to pull out a duffel bag, and Justine saw a flash of metal at the back of his waistband.
The gun made him a cop.
She stepped back from the window with a sigh. Maybe Brian would be too busy dealing with contractors to get in her way. The thought of a man, much less a cop, watching her every move made the walls seem more narrow, the air in the room thin. She was a woman who needed her space—reveled in it, truth be told.
Olivia stepped into the library, the cop close behind, and waved one hand at Justine as she made the introductions. Justine froze when Olivia said his full name.
“Brian Marcentel.”
The blood rushed to her head and she struggled to maintain control. Surely, it couldn’t be. She studied his face, hoping it was all a coincidence, but his dark blue eyes gave away the boy she remembered from long ago. Brian extended his hand and Justine hesitated just a moment before placing her hand in his. His hand was solid, with a firm grip, and he studied her as they shook, just like cops always did. Sizing people up.
Did he recognize her? Did he remember? She’d legally changed her name years ago, and the confident woman she was today didn’t even remotely resemble the scared child of the past. Was that enough?
Olivia turned to Brian and said, “Justine has reclusive tendencies, so no hovering. Okay?”
A hint of a smile crossed Brian’s face and he held one hand up. “Scout’s honor,” he said to Olivia, then locked his gaze on Justine. “There’s some things I want to go over before we get settled in, about the security and all, but I’ll do my best not to get in your way.”
The light from outside dimmed, as if someone had turned down the power, creating shadows across the library. Olivia looked outside and groaned at the dark clouds swirling above. “My car won’t make it down that path in a rainstorm. I better run.” Olivia looked at Justine, her hesitation and indecision clear as day.
“Go,” Justine reassured her. “Get back home to your fiancé. Brian and I can work out all the details of avoiding each other without a referee.”
Olivia gave her a quick hug, clearly relieved, then grabbed her purse and rushed out of laMalediction without so much as a backward glance. Justine watched her car as it pulled away, the taillights shimmering in the fading light. She sure didn’t waste any time leaving.
“So,” she said as she turned to face Brian, “is there a plan? A security system?”
“I’ll start installing the security system tomorrow, here and at the rental, but nothing is in place for tonight. John and I covered every square inch of a couple of bedrooms upstairs and made sure there’s no way in or out except the bedroom door and the windows. We’ll bunk there tonight.”
Justine felt her pulse increase. “Are they next to each other?”
“Yes, and there’s a connecting door. Olivia figures the rooms probably belonged to a child and nanny.”
“Is that really necessary? A connecting door, I mean?” Justine could already feel the walls closing in on her. The possibility of someone with access to her bedroom, watching her sleep, was far more than she’d bargained for when she’d taken the job.
“John and Olivia think so, and I work for them.”
Justine took in the stern expression and the set jaw, and knew it was useless to argue. If Brian was anything like his uncle, he made having things his way a personal crusade. If she wanted to search through the historical documents at laMalediction, she was going to have to find a way to deal with him. “And during the day? Do you plan on sitting across the library table from me as I work?” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice.
Brian narrowed his eyes. “Once the security system is in place, that shouldn’t be an issue. I’ll carry a remote alarm sensor on me. It will let me know if there’s a security breach. I won’t be very far away.”
“And this security system will be rigged to do what, exactly?”
“Let us know if anyone enters or exits this house or the rental, either through a door or a window.”
“So I can’t leave either house without setting off an alarm? That’s sorta like prison, don’t you think?” Justine could feel a flush rising up her neck and she struggled to remain calm. “Look, I know I’m here to do research, but I jog every morning. I spend too much time sitting in a chair to ignore exercising. This job is no different.”
Brian nodded. “Give me a time and I’ll go with you. I’m used to jogging myself.”
Justine bristled. Jogging was her personal time. Granted, she spent most of her time alone, but jogging was when she centered herself for the day ahead and cleansed her mind of everything cluttering it. “I jog alone.”
“Not here you don’t. This swamp is full of things that can kill you.”
“You think I can’t handle myself? I grew up in these swamps. I probably know the sounds and tracks of predators better than you.”
Brian locked his eyes on hers. “Including human ones?”
Justine stared. “You’re serious?”
“Alligators didn’t trap Olivia in that tunnel and neither did ghosts. For all we know, Wheeler may not have been behind some of the other things, either. We still haven’t figured out how he got to the estate with no one seeing him, and with him dead, there’s no way of asking. Could be, whoever else was involved may not be any happier with you here than they were with Olivia.”
“Maybe it was kids who locked Olivia in the tunnel.” Justine refused to consider the other possibilities.
“You think kids broke into a house that locals fear as haunted to play a practical joke on a stranger?”
“It’s not impossible,” Justine said, but even as the words left her mouth she knew it wasn’t very plausible, either.
“Look,” Brian said, “this is the bottom line—John feels something was going on here besides the stuff Wheeler did. I’ve known John Landry most of my life, and if there’s one thing he’s got, it’s instincts. If he says something’s going on here, then there is. And I’m damned well going to find out what it is.”
Justine crossed her arms in front of her, a trickle of fear beginning at the back of her mind. “Is that why Olivia was so anxious to leave?”
“Maybe. A lot of bad things happened in this house—to Olivia and to those who lived here before her—and she’s seen it all, either in real life or in her dreams. I don’t blame her for not wanting to spend another minute here.”
Justine stared at him, a bit surprised. “You really believe Olivia saw Marilyn Borque’s murder in her dreams? That everything she dreamed was real?”
“Yes, I do.”
Justine tried to wrap her mind around such a disciplined personality completely buying into the paranormal. “But if the spirit of Marilyn Borque was trying to get something besides vindication, why did the dreams stop after Wheeler’s death?”
“Who says they did?”
Brian grabbed his duffel bag from the floor. “Your room is the second on the left. I’m in the first. We should get settled in before the storm hits and the power goes out.” He glanced at the black, swirling sky outside, then left the library.
Who says they did?
Justine felt a chill run through her. She didn’t want to believe in the old ways, but what was happening at laMalediction seemed grounded in them. No wonder Olivia wanted to leave. If she was still having the dreams, then whatever malevolent force held laMalediction in its grip wasn’t gone.
It was awakened.