Always Watching (7 page)

Read Always Watching Online

Authors: Lynette Eason

Tags: #FIC042060, #FIC042040, #FIC027110, #Bodyguards—Fiction, #Celebrities—Fiction, #Stalkers—Fiction, #Suspense fiction, #Mystery fiction, #Christian fiction

BOOK: Always Watching
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Wade explained what had happened to the former bodyguard and Martha paled. He hadn't wanted to tell the details, but had decided that wasn't fair to her. She lived here and needed to know what was going on. He squeezed her hand and left her standing in the den, still processing everything, while
he went to find the woman he was supposed to trust with his life.

He wasn't questioning her abilities. Bruce Savage would have only hired the best of the best. He just wondered if she was entirely necessary now that he knew he needed to be on his guard and watching his back. Time would tell.

He found her exactly where Martha said she'd be. She stared out the kitchen window above the sink, tapping her chin with her phone and looking deep in thought. She must have sensed his presence, because she turned fast and light on her feet, alert and ready. She relaxed a fraction when she saw him.

“How is Maddy doing?” he asked.

“She survived surgery and is in ICU with a guard on her door.”

“Do you think she could identify who attacked her?”

“Possibly. That's why we're going to take all precautions and make sure the person who tried to kill her doesn't come back to finish the job when he—or she—hears that she's still alive.”

He nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I need to get to the station. Do you plan to go with me?”

“Of course. Do you feel like going? Because frankly you don't look all that hot.”

Wade let a low chuckle slip past his lips. “I'm disappointed you don't think I'm hot.”

Olivia's brow rose and her cheeks turned a light pink, but her blue eyes stayed cool. “You know what I meant.”

“I do. And you would be correct. I don't feel all that hot. I'm slightly dizzy and a little lightheaded, but I figure the residual effects of the drug will wear off eventually.”

“Don't want to let the fans down, huh?”

“No. I don't.”

He didn't move yet. Olivia tilted her head. “What is it?” she asked.

“Is my family going to be safe while we're gone?”

She gave him a tight smile. “Good question. But yes. I've asked a few friends to stay close by and keep an eye on your place while I'm with you.”

He blew out a slow breath of relief. “Good. Then I'm ready when you are.”

She pulled her keys from her pocket. “Since you're still feeling a bit woozy, I'll drive.”

[11]

SATURDAY MORNING
1:00 AM

One hour into the show, Olivia checked the doors one more time, then the windows. All were locked up tight and secure. Still, she paced from one end of the building to the other. Wade's voice came through the speakers in the ceiling low and soothing as he answered questions and fielded calls. Because he was the only person at the station at night, his callers seemed to understand that if the line was busy, they'd simply have to call back.

Or send an email. After every third or fourth call, Wade would answer an email question, then return to the phone lines.

Olivia heard him speaking again. “I know how it feels to lose someone close to you, but drinking your sorrows away is not the answer. Do you have a close friend that you can talk to? Someone you trust?”

Olivia tuned out the show and glanced out the window toward the highway beyond the station. Two police cruisers pulled into the parking lot, stopped next to the officer parked in plain sight, then circled the building and left again within five
minutes. She continued her inspection of the building's security, finally satisfied for the moment that all was as it should be.

She moved back into the lobby area, staying away from the windows, but close to Wade, who was just behind the soundproof glass.

She heard him cut to a commercial and peered into the booth. “Everything going all right?”

“So far.”

She stepped inside and went to the pictures pinned behind the microphone. “You have that one on your mantel at home.”

He released the one she'd pointed to and held it out to her. “Yes. That's my mom and dad and me on Dad's boat when I was about eighteen months old. It's a favorite. Mom looks completely happy and relaxed.”

“Where was it taken?”

“At the old boathouse Dad used to have. It's about a mile east of where I live now, but still connected to the same lake.”

“Ahh. Is that why you built so close to where you grew up? To have something from your childhood close by?”

He shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe.” He met her gaze. “Probably.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “Time to get back to work.”

Olivia stepped out and moved to sit in the chair in the lobby where she could keep an eye on the entry door in front of her and Wade behind her.

“And who do we have on the phone?” Wade's voice came through the speaker just above her head.

“Wade, darling,” the voice whispered. “You've been a very naughty boy.”

Olivia came to her feet. Wade's eyes met hers through the glass even as the rest of him went completely still. “Who is this?”

“You haven't figured that out yet?”

“Obviously not.”

“That's because I'm not ready to reveal myself to you yet, but I will when it's time.”

Olivia dialed Angela, who answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

“I need you to go downstairs and trace a call.” Maddy already had the station line programmed in the tracing system. Now Olivia needed someone to activate it. Since Angela lived in the small apartment above the office, she was the one who could get the trace going the fastest.

“I'm on the way downstairs. Hold on.”

A lifetime passed before her voice came back on the line. “Tracing the call he's on now.”

“Good.” She listened.

The caller was still talking. “. . . my apology? I've been listening and haven't heard it yet.”

“Why should I give you an apology?” Wade asked, his tone mild, nonthreatening. Simply . . . curious.

“You said you were going to throw away my gifts. I spent a lot of time and trouble picking those out for you.”

Wade fell silent and Olivia shot him a sharp look.

“Well?” the caller demanded.

“I'm thinking,” Wade said.

“About what?”

“About the fact that you might be right.”

This seemed to shock the person on the other end of the line. “Oh.”

“Yes. I shouldn't have announced that I'd be throwing the gifts away on the show. That probably seemed coldhearted and uncaring. I didn't mean it that way, but I had no other way to get in touch with you or to tell you that the stalking needs to stop.”

“I'm not on the air anymore. What happened? Why did you turn it off? Why is there a commercial playing?”

Olivia stood just outside the studio room and waved to Wade, motioning for him to keep going. “Ang? What do you have?”

“It's bouncing off a tower near the station, but the phone itself isn't traceable. It's coming up as an unknown number.”

“A throwaway.”

“Yes.”

Olivia turned her attention back to Wade, who'd stood and was pacing in front of the console. “. . . a private conversation. No need to let everyone out there in on our business.”

“Our business. It's our business now, is it?”

“What do you want from me?” Wade asked, his voice low.

“All I've ever wanted was for you to just
see
me. Maybe even love me.”

“How can I do that when I don't even know who you are?”

Click.

Olivia waited. “There's nothing I can do from this end. I'm sorry,” Angela said.

“I know. Thanks for trying.” She hung up and shook her head at Wade.

He pulled his headset off and threw it on the desk. She walked around to the door leading into the studio. “She used a prepaid cell. Angela was able to get a signal that bounced off a tower near here, but wasn't able to pinpoint her location.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It's all right. She's not going to call if there's any chance of her getting caught.”

“I wrote down her exact words. ‘All I've ever wanted was for you to just
see
me. Maybe even love me.' That makes me think you know her, that you've been around her and made her feel . . . ‘invisible' might be the right word.”

He lifted his hands, indicating his helplessness. “I don't know who it could be. Seriously.” He glanced at the clock. “I need to get back on the air in about ten seconds.”

“I'm going to call this in to Bree and Quinn.”

He pulled his headphones back on and waited for the commercial to end. Then he picked up on the show as though nothing had happened, keeping his voice smooth and calm.

At least until the power went out.

She froze and blinked in the sudden darkness. Her eyes started to adjust and she waited for the station's powerful generator to kick in. When it didn't, a slow chill snaked up her spine. She tried to think of a reason the lights would go out and could come up with a couple. She tried to think of a reason for the generator not to come on. And could come up with only one.

Thanks to a full moon shining through the blinds, she saw Wade rising from behind the microphone. She moved toward him and could see his frown through the soundproof glass. He lifted a brow in her direction. She held up a hand and motioned him toward her, then stepped over to the side of the window to see the officer still in the car. She could make out his faint outline behind the steering wheel. Hadn't he noticed the lights go out? She looked across the street. All the other buildings still had power.

She punched in Bree's number and put the Bluetooth earbud in her ear. The phone rang. And rang. Bree didn't answer so Olivia hung up. “Stay with me,” she told Wade, who'd come up beside her.

“Why didn't the generator kick in?” Wade asked.

“I don't know, but I don't like it.”

“Dale will be over here soon.”

“Dale Price,” she said. “The station manager.”

“And a good friend. He'll be alerted to the power failure.”
He rubbed his hands together, then blew out a breath. “I should call him and let him know what's going on, though.”

“Let's make sure your stalker friend isn't here first and then we can worry about calling him. Where's the generator?”

“Outside. I could go check it, but I have a feeling that might not be a good idea.”

“No, not a good idea. We know we're safe in here. Outside is another story.” She moved to the next window and saw nothing alarming. Yet.

“You really think it's her?”

“I'm not dismissing the possibility.” A thud sounded from above and Olivia pulled her weapon from her shoulder holster. Okay, so maybe she'd spoken too soon. Maybe outside would be more safe. “Is there an attic?”

Wade's gaze followed hers. “Yes. We use it for storage just like in a house.”

“Is there a way to get up there from the outside?”

“I . . . don't think so. I don't know, I've never thought about it.”

Olivia moved back to the window and peered out. The officer still sat in his car, oblivious. She dialed his number and he never moved. A bad feeling swept over her. She dialed Quinn's number this time.

“You know what time it is?” he grumbled, sounding sleepy.

“Get over to the radio station, will you?” she said. “The power just went out and the officer in the car outside isn't moving. Something's going on and I don't think it's good.”

She heard a flurry of activity on the other end of the line. “Stay put, backup's on the way.” The sleep was gone from his voice.

“Staying as put as we can.” Another creak from above. As though someone was walking across the attic floor? “Can you hurry it up, Quinn?” She looked at Wade. “Let's head for the door.”

They moved as one toward the front door. Wade started to push it open when Olivia grabbed his arm and jerked him back two steps. “Stop!”

“Why?”

She moved forward. She'd been checking that door for the last hour and a half. “That wire wasn't there before.” She looked down along the doorframe, then backed away.

“What does that mean?”

Olivia spun. “It could be a bomb. There's a chunk of material strapped to the door. The wire leading out of it is what caught my attention. It could be part of a blasting cap. Something.”

“A bomb?” Quinn questioned, his low voice rumbling in her ear.

Olivia jerked. She'd almost forgotten he was on the line. “Yes.”

“So we need a bomb squad?”

“Looks like that's a possibility.”

“Glad your phone didn't set it off. Hold on.”

She heard a click, then silence, and knew he was making another call. She directed Wade to the back entrance. But stopped at the door. “I don't want to open it in case it's rigged too. I'd say let's go out a window, but they're all just the little push-out kind. No way we're fitting through one.”

“What if she's planted bombs in the attic too?”

“Yeah. What if?” Her heart thumped, but she kept emotions out of it. Right now her main priority was getting her client out of danger—which meant getting him out of the building. “If she planted bombs in the attic, how does she plan to get out without blowing herself up?” she whispered as though to herself. “And how did she get in without us seeing her?”

Wade felt the darkness in the building pressing on him. The faint light from the moon didn't reach far. Fear thundered through him, making his heart beat fast and hard against his chest. He thought about the possibility that he might die tonight. That the building might blow up, leaving Amy an orphan. He swallowed against the idea. He knew his father and Martha would take care of her, but that didn't make the thought of dying any easier.

“What if we went through the attic to get out?” he asked.

“She's up there—or someone is,” she murmured. She flicked him a glance and held up a finger. “Quinn's back on the line.” She listened. “What is it? . . . Uh-huh . . . Okay.”

Wade waited, impatient. Ready to get out of the building. “What did he say?”

“Bomb squad's on the way,” she said.

“Should you be using your phone? I thought they could be used to set off bombs.”

“They can. If the trigger is activated by radio waves, then yeah, the cell phone could set it off. But the phone and the bomb have to be on the same frequency.”

“So you're saying it's not likely.”

“No, it's not.”

“But it's possible.”

She sighed. “Yes. It's possible. If the trigger is programmed to scan for radio signals and it comes upon the one I'm on, then that would not be good for us.” She glanced at his pocket. “You might want to turn yours off, though.”

“Great.” He did as suggested and powered down the device.

“I was already on the phone before I saw the bomb. Since we're still alive, I think it's a safe assumption that the bomb and my phone are on two separate signals.”

“And if it has a scanner, it hasn't found yours yet.”

“And that.”

“So we can wait for help and possibly get blown up or we can try to get out, also with the possibility of getting blown up.”

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