Accidental Bodyguard (18 page)

She leaned against the wall next to the window so no one could see her if they came around back and peered inside.

“Someone is here,” she whispered into the phone. She drew her legs in close to her body, making herself as small as possible.

Out front, the powerful engine shut down. She heard a vehicle door open and slam shut.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“W
HERE
ARE
YOU
?” Jack asked.

Claudia pressed the phone hard against her ear. Her pulse pounded so loudly she could barely hear him.

“I'm in the bedroom. I locked all the doors and pulled the curtains.”

“Stay there. I'm on my way. Have you got your gun?”

“Yes.”

Someone banged on the front door and rotated the knob, which caused the dog to growl. Claudia closed her eyes and held her breath. Jack had been gone nearly an hour. It would take him that long to return. Had Carlos found her? Would she really be able to shoot someone—even in self-defense?

Or would they plant a bomb and blow up the cabin—their usual pattern?
With me and Pookie locked inside.

“Irene! Baby, it's Chuck. Open up.”

“Wait,” Claudia whispered to Jack. “It's the sheriff.”

“What's he want?”

“He's yelling for your mom.”

Jack cursed. “That old bag of wind.”

“He called a few minutes ago. He's checking to see if she's home.”

Pookie switched from snarling to whining, apparently recognizing the sheriff either by voice or scent. Claudia remained still, her heart beating frantically, although everything else seemed to unfold in slow motion.
Just go away, Mr. Sheriff.

She listened to his footsteps move to the rear of the house. Sure, this was an officer of the law, and maybe he was even an honest one, but no one else could know she was here. No one. That was the only way to be sure.

“Irene!” Chuck Wheeler knocked on the sliders, calling for his girlfriend again, then moved back to the front, slammed the door to what she assumed was his truck and rumbled away.

“You still there?” she asked Jack.

“Talk to me, Claudia. Tell me what's happening.”

She blew out a huge breath. “He's gone. Take care of your mom.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, he drove away. You don't need to come home.”

When they disconnected, Claudia remained where she was for a few deep breaths. Would she have to live in fear of every unexpected knock on the door for the rest of her life?

When her pulse returned to normal, she moved to the bed and positioned herself against the backboard. She picked up her notebook and flipped to the last entry. Her hand shook as she wrote, forcing her to write slowly as she brought the journal up to date, intending to go all the way through her latest scare with the reappearance of the sheriff.

She'd be lucky if she didn't have a heart attack before this adventure was finally over.

As always, the telling calmed her. While married to Carlos, recording his bizarre activities helped her make sense of what was going on, allowed her to put everything into perspective and face the horrible fact that her husband had become a danger to society. As she wrote about Jack and his mom, she realized the dangers were very different this time.

Oh, she doubted that Irene was a serious threat to society, even if the woman was sheer murder on Jack's mood.

Jack was the risk, and a big one. He might not be a problem for the general populace—in fact the world needed more men with Jack's code of honor—but he posed serious peril to her. The more time she spent around him, the more she liked him, wanted to be with him. Liked him? Yeah, right.

She was in danger of losing herself to him, just like she had with Carlos. She needed to put some distance between her and Jack before she lost her heart. But she couldn't do that. She was trapped.

Like a wild animal in the forest hiding from a predator in their lair.

* * *

J
ACK
DIDN
'
T
WANT
to be in this overheated hospital room. He didn't want to be sweating and not able to see the outdoors, to breathe fresh air. But they'd rolled his mom off in a wheelchair for X-rays two hours ago, so here he waited. He didn't like waiting.

But no one did, especially not in a hospital. A hospital was full of sick people. And most likely the trip had been unnecessary since the head trauma assessment had proved negative. All that remained was making sure his mom hadn't broken a bone. At least he wasn't listening to her constant chatter. He ought to be grateful for the peace.

Instead he worried about Claudia and what Wheeler had been doing out at the cabin.

But he knew. The sheriff had been looking for his mistress. He probably got worried when he couldn't reach her by phone. Well, too bad, lover boy.

With a snort of disgust, Jack removed his phone and called the Protection Alliance office. He needed to find out what was happening in Miami.

“Security,” Lola answered.

“It's Jack.”

“Well, well. The Boy Scout.”

Jack ignored her. Lola loved to jerk his chain. “What's going on down there? Any more attempts to breach Collins Island?”

“Nothing so far,” Lola said. “But we're ready.”

“Good,” Jack said. What were the Warriors up to? Had they found Claudia's car?

“Brad has settled in nicely as the security chief,” Lola said.

Brad was a good man, and Jack relaxed a bit, picturing his colleague relishing the good life. That seemed like another world to him now, something from a long time ago. Had he only left Collins Island yesterday?

“When are you coming back, Jack? I'm already shorthanded, and with you gone...” Lola trailed off, letting Jack imagine how hard she was having to work without him. One of her favorite ploys.

“Sorry, Lola. Things have gotten complicated.”

After a long-suffering sigh, she asked, “You're going to stay with your beautiful witness until the trial, aren't you?”

“Maybe. I don't know yet. Like I said, things have—”

“Yeah, yeah—it's complicated. I know.”

Jack heard his mother's laughter in the hallway, so maybe she was done with her tests. Time to get out of here.

“Listen, Lola, can you get me a burner phone and ship it up here? You've got the address on file.”

“Sure, Jack. I'll take care of it. But just so you know, I'm not happy.”

“Yeah, I get that, boss. Later.”

“All right, Irene,” the female orderly said, pushing his mom into the small room. “Here's your son.”

“They say it's just a bad sprain,” Irene announced, waving a sheet of paper. “Here are my discharge instructions.”

Before Jack could ask any questions, he heard determined footsteps marching up the hallway.

A female voice said, “Sheriff, wait. You can't—”

Sheriff Wheeler pushed into the examining room.

“Irene.”

Jack leaped to his feet. Someone from the hospital staff must have alerted Wheeler when Irene showed up at the ER. Everyone in Dunnellon knew about the sheriff's interest in his mom. Nothing like small-town gossip.

“Baby, are you okay?” Wheeler asked. “What happened?”

“Chuck.” His mother grinned as if she'd been handed a million bucks. “What are you doing here?”

“This is still my town,” Wheeler said, kneeling before Mom's wheelchair.

Jack snorted, thinking Wheeler sounded like a pompous fool.

“And there are
some
people who treat me with respect,” the sheriff continued.

Wheeler didn't so much as glance at Jack, but he knew the dig was directed at him.

“What happened to your foot?”

“Oh, you know how clumsy I can be,” Irene said. “I fell going out the sliders. Jack brought me to the ER to get checked out.”

“Are you okay?”

Irene took the sheriff's hand. “I'm fine now that you're here.”

“Why aren't you answering your phone? When Jack wouldn't let me in this morning—”

Wheeler paused and looked around the room, suddenly realizing he had the attention of a rapt audience. He shook his head and rose.

Jack noted it took more time for the sheriff to get back to his feet than it took him to go down. Wheeler might have aged well, but his body was no longer in its prime.

“Could I please have a few minutes alone with Irene?” Wheeler asked, his voice formal.

The orderly hurried out of the room without a word.

Jack crossed his arms and stared at his former boss. “Does your wife know where you are?”

“Come on, Jack,” Irene said. “Give us a minute.”

Jack glared at her and raised his eyebrows. Would his mother even remember the danger he'd tried to impress upon her? Would she tell her married lover about Claudia just for the fun of it?

“Son,” Wheeler said, “I'd appreciate just a moment, and then I'll let you take your momma home.”

With her gaze boring into his, Irene nodded almost imperceptibly. Jack hoped it was her way of saying she'd keep her mouth shut. But with Irene, you could never be certain.

Yet what choice did he have at this point? How could he prevent them from talking privately? He couldn't without making a scene.

What decided him was realizing how he'd feel if someone tried to keep him from talking to Claudia if he ever needed to make things right with her.

Yeah, that would be ugly. Maybe violent. And that insight rocked him. He cared too much about Claudia.

“I need to get back to the cabin,” Jack said. “So you've got five minutes. I'll be in the hallway.”

He closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall. Would Irene tell Wheeler about the lie Claudia had concocted about the security of the US government being at stake? He crossed his legs. Yeah, his mom would say something. She wouldn't be able to help herself. She'd never been able to keep a secret. Never. Spreading gossip was her favorite hobby.

Maybe he ought to just tell Wheeler about Claudia, explain the situation and make the need for silence clear. Chuck Wheeler had been sheriff for decades. He might be a rotten husband, but he'd always been a fine lawman.

What the hell was Wheeler doing here, anyway? He'd made his choice. He'd chosen his wife, which is what all married men did. Did he feel the need to keep Jack's mother on some kind of string? The man needed to leave her alone or she'd never get over him.

The door opened, and Wheeler exited, his face unreadable. He nodded once at Jack, but didn't hang around for a conversation. He stomped down the hallway and didn't look back.

Jack stared after him. Apparently that reunion hadn't gone precisely the way Sheriff Wheeler had planned.
Well, good for you, Mom.

When Jack reentered the room, his mother stared at the floor with slumped shoulders, her excited grin replaced by a set jaw. He wanted to ask her what was going on, but had another unexpected realization. His mother's private conversations were none of his business—unless the topic included Claudia. And considering his attitude toward her lover, his mom wasn't likely to be in a sharing mood.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked.

She looked up. Her eyes were dry but sad. She tried to smile. When that failed, she nodded.

Jack moved behind the wheelchair. “You got everything?”

“Don't worry,” she said in a tired voice. “I didn't mention Claudia. Chuck doesn't know anything about her.”

Jack released the brake on the wheels and pushed. His mother sounded sincere, and he wished he could believe her. Unfortunately, history wouldn't allow him to take that chance with Claudia's life.

He needed to have his own private conversation with Sheriff Wheeler. The sooner, the better.

* * *

C
LAUDIA
MET
J
ACK
and his mom at the front door when they returned home from the ER. Wearing a thin smile, Irene hobbled into the house on crutches without speaking, a real switch from the normally talkative woman. Assuming the lack of communication was due to her injured ankle, Claudia decided to have Irene quantify the pain with a number like she did with her patients in the hospital. Doing that sometimes made a patient realize things weren't all that bad.

“Anything broken?” she asked.

“No,” Jack said, watching his mom arrange herself on the sofa. “But it's a bad sprain.”

Pookie sniffed at the bandages on Irene's foot, sneezed, circled three times and then settled on the cushions beside her master.

Irene would be more comfortable in a bed. Should they let her take the one in the bedroom? But then where would she and Jack sleep? No way could they both fit on the sofa. Claudia's thoughts wandered to the camper, which had to have a bed. But Irene couldn't make it up the steps.

“Did they give you any pain meds?” she asked.

Jack nodded. “I'm going back out now to pick up the prescription.”

“I wanted to stop on the way home,” Irene said. Her first words.

“And I wanted to make sure Claudia was okay first,” Jack replied.

“Why wouldn't Claudia be okay?” Irene asked with a decided edge to her voice. “
She
didn't fall.”

Claudia shot Jack a look. Was that the pain talking or had something happened to make Irene more testy than usual?

Jack motioned with his head for them to move outside.

“Oh, that's great,” Irene yelled after them. “Real nice, Jack. You can have a private conversation with your girlfriend but I can't have one with Chuck.”

“So Chuck showed up at the ER?” Claudia asked when Jack had slid the door shut.

“Yes, and they spoke without me in the room. I don't know what Mother told him, and I need to clarify the situation for him.”

“I thought you didn't trust him.”

Jack met her gaze and held it. “If Irene told him about you—which she denied—I haven't got much choice. Depending on the results of our conversation, you and I may need to relocate.”

Claudia nodded. “So the trip to the pharmacy is just an excuse to go speak to the sheriff.”