Christmas Bodyguard (15 page)

He cupped her face. “I hope you understand how important you are.”

Those earlier tears threatened to surface again. She'd shed so many tears over her father and Bryan that she'd promised herself she wouldn't let anyone make her that vulnerable again. So why couldn't she stop herself from opening her heart to this man?

He lowered his mouth toward hers. He was so close that she felt the soft in-and-out of his breath, smelled the apple cider he'd drunk earlier. Her lips tingled right before he settled his on hers. He'd given her plenty of time to pull away. She couldn't have for the life of her. She wanted this kiss—had yearned for it since the last one.

He folded her against him, his arms caging her to him. The sense that she'd come home suffused throughout her as he deepened his possession of her mouth. In the back of her mind an alarm went off. She didn't care how dangerous this was. She welcomed the risk to feel special even if it was just for a moment.

When he broke off the kiss, he lay his forehead against hers, his breathing ragged. Her heart thumped so hard she wondered if he could feel it when he held her close.

He leaned back and stared into her eyes. “I know you can take care of yourself, but all I want to do is protect you, keep you safe.”

His words sparked a memory of what Bryan had once told her when she rebelled against telling him where she'd been.
My job is to protect you. How can I if I don't know
where you are?
It had been essential to Bryan to control her every move. That was his idea of protecting her.

The reminder sent the alarms clanging in her mind. She backed out of Slade's embrace.

“T
hat's okay. You're right.” Elizabeth lifted her chin, squared her shoulders. “I'm capable of taking care of myself.”

“I'm not denying that.” Slade took a step toward her. She stiffened, and he went still. “But it doesn't change how I feel. Any man worth his salt wants to protect the people he cares about.”

The implication of his statement robbed her of a reply. He cared about her. She cared about him. No, it couldn't be. Their lives were not compatible. She wanted something different from what he did. He was the kind of man who wanted a partner in marriage, and she had tried that—and lost herself to another. Yes, she'd dreamed of having a family at first with Bryan, but not at the expense of herself. She took another step back.

Across the expanse of a few feet, his gaze tangled with hers. “Don't let what your ex-husband did to you control everything you do. I had a healthy relationship with Catherine built on mutual respect and trust. You could have that, too.”

Love wasn't an option for her. Look at what happened with her father and Bryan. Why set herself up for a third
failure? She put more space between them. “I need to check the house. Make sure it's secured.”

A shutter fell over his face. “Yes, you'd better do that. I need to get some sleep. Good night.” With a nod, he strode out of the room, leaving behind a chill that burrowed its way into her heart.

She pivoted toward the Christmas tree, its lights, hooked up to a timer, still on. A beautifully handcrafted ornament drew Elizabeth forward until she touched the soft lace on the dress of the little girl, a miniature of Abbey with long brown hair and brown eyes. Such love had gone into it. What would it be like to be a member of a family with that kind of love? Being here with Slade and Abbey made her wish her relationship was different with her father. Should she call him? Reach out one more time? Would it make a difference?

Her throat closed. Through a sheen of tears, she stared at the glittering lights that showcased such a memory-filled tree. Her childhood dreams stirred deeper inside her the longer she peered at the pine.

Then the lights blinked off, throwing the room into shadows.

She shook her childhood delusions from her mind and quickly headed out of the den before she actually started picturing herself in a home with a family.

After making her rounds to double-check that the house was secured and the fire in the den was dying down, Elizabeth trudged upstairs, tired but not sure how well she would sleep. As she passed Abbey's bedroom, she noticed a stream of light coming from under the teen's door. Changing directions, Elizabeth knocked on it.

Abbey opened her door a few inches.

“Can I come in?”

“To check my room? I can assure you no one is in it.”

“No, to talk.” Bosco, with his tail wagging, came up to be scratched. She bent down to greet him.

A question dimmed any defiance in Abbey's expression. She stepped to the side to allow Elizabeth inside. “Talk about what?”

“Tonight. The play. Whatever you want.”

“What if I don't want to talk?”

“Then we won't, and I'll leave.” Elizabeth straightened while Bosco trotted to Abbey's bed and hopped up on it.

“Why do you want to talk?”

Because I'm falling in love with your dad and I don't want to be alone with my thoughts. Because I know you're hurting and need someone to listen to you.
“I don't, but I thought you might have questions about tonight.”

“No, it's pretty simple to understand. Someone tried to hurt me. Now I have to stay locked up here at the ranch with no friends visiting.” Running her hand along the dresser, Abbey strolled toward her bed as though she had not a care in the world.

“And you're okay with that?”

“Sure, what girl doesn't want to be stuck at home during the holidays when all her friends are going to the mall, to parties? And the best thing about my whole situation is that I have a maniac after me who wants to hurt me. I'd say just about any of my friends would die to change places with me.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh, wait, they really might die if they changed places with me.”

“Good. I'm glad you don't have any questions and are okay with everything.” Elizabeth turned toward the door.

“Wait!”

Elizabeth peered over her shoulder at the teenage girl.

“Maybe I have one question.” Abbey leaned into the bedpost, hugging it.

She swung back toward the girl.

“What if this maniac isn't found by Christmas? Will I be stuck here after the New Year?”

“You want me to tell you a piece of advice I learned to follow when I worried about everything having to do with my future?”

Abbey frowned. “What?”

“If my worrying about the future and what might happen will change it, then I should. But if stewing over something I can't control won't change it, then I need to give my worries to God and let Him deal with them. Do you think you can change this situation by worrying?”

Abbey shook her head.

“Then I wouldn't waste my time. Use it instead to get to know your dad again. He's trapped here, too.” Elizabeth moved a little closer to Abbey. “Tell you a secret. I don't think he's too thrilled about not being able to leave, either.”

Abbey sank onto her bed, still clutching the bedpost, and rested her head against it. “This stinks.”

“Yes, it does. But you can either be miserable or make the best of a bad situation. The choice is yours.”

“Just like that, I can make it better?”

“I didn't say it would be easy, but your dad is doing the best he can to keep you safe. He feels the only way is here at the ranch where it is guarded while the police search for the person behind all this.”

“But there are no leads.”

“Some people on the list of suspects have been taken off. Others look promising and the police are concentrating on them. There's Paula Addison's boyfriend, Dwayne Olsen, who might be doing her bidding. Sam Howard moved back to the United States, not far from here, right before all this started. I don't like coincidences. Kevin Sharpe hasn't been found, and he has a reason to be upset with you and your
dad. Jay Wilson is dead, but Joshua is trying to track down his family. He had two daughters and a son. So far only one daughter has been located. Lots of people are working on this, including your dad. He's been going through files and doing searches on the internet. He wants this over with as much as you do.” There were a couple of others the police were delving into, but Abbey didn't need to know the names as much that something was being done to end her nightmare.

“It's not Kevin.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he wouldn't know how to do what this person has been doing—an explosive device, shooting out a tire, cutting your brakes. Kevin was more like Dad, a computer geek. And I know for a fact, he hated the thought of killing even a bird. He couldn't understand why some boys in our class went hunting.”

“But he's still missing and disappeared right before all this started.”

“It's not him.” Abbey loosened her tight grip on the bedpost.

“Have you told your dad why you don't think it's Kevin?”

“He wouldn't listen to me. I'm telling you.”

“I'll pass it on, but your dad will listen to you.”

“Sure, because he's got nothing better to do since he's stuck here, too.”

Elizabeth rose. “Sarcasm isn't very becoming to you.”

Abbey's eyes widened.

“Good night, Abbey. I'll see you in the morning. Remember, you control your attitude. Not the person after you.” Elizabeth strolled toward the exit. When she glanced back at the teen as she shut the door, a thoughtful expression had replaced Abbey's defiant one.

Coming to work for Slade, Elizabeth hadn't realized she would be a referee between father and daughter. But she hoped she could help these two mend their differences. She hated to see their relationship end up estranged like hers with her dad.

 

Walking through the living room the following Thursday, Slade caught sight of a guard outside the large window that faced the front yard. He stopped and stared out, watching the man with a large German shepherd patrol the grounds, illuminated by the security lights that came on as he moved from one area to another. A second guard was thirty yards to the left. Abbey was right. This was just like a prison, with guards and everything. Except that he could hear Christmas music coming from the kitchen where Mary and Hilda were preparing dinner. It lightened his mood.

I wonder what Joshua and Elizabeth would say if I snuck out.
Slade smiled for a few seconds at the picture of him making his great escape, then the gravity of the situation hit him square in the chest, sucking the breath from him. If he felt this way, no doubt Abbey experienced it even more, and yet she hadn't said much since the Saturday night of the play—five days before.

Five long days of nothing breaking on the case. The evidence the police found on the set's sabotage hadn't helped them garner any clues as to who was behind this. Neither had anything been found in the auditorium where the smoke bombs were remotely detonated. He even went through his video camera to see if he could find anything unusual, but the scenery that ended up falling blocked his view of backstage. And from Elizabeth's position, she couldn't see anyone behind the scenery either. Another dead end.

A noise behind him sent him flying around, his fists clenched as though readying himself to do battle.

“It's only me,” Elizabeth said with a chuckle. “My stomach is rumbling. Whatever they are making smells wonderful.”

“Roast beef with vegetables, homemade rolls and for dessert, a red velvet cake.”

“Dessert? We don't usually indulge, thankfully, or I would have to exercise even more.”

“Mary is trying to get us into the Christmas spirit. The cake was the centerpiece for the holiday open house that we won't have this year.”

“It's usually a big deal?”

“We invite friends, employees at headquarters, people we want to thank. We also take donations to the Silver Chase Food Bank. Everyone brings a toy to contribute to the church toy drive for children who have one or both parents in prison. That part of Christmas I've always enjoyed. I can't say I was too much into the rest of the holidays. I thought of what it was like when my wife was alive. Maybe it's time to start some new traditions.”

“That's not something I can help you with. I have no Christmas traditions. I never know where I'll be each year.”

“Isn't that lonely?”

Elizabeth's eyebrows scrunched together. “I was always with people, standing back and watching their Christmas celebration or lack thereof, but yes, it is lonely.”

“So we've both avoided the holidays for different reasons.”

“Yeah, you had fond memories. I didn't.”

“Our memories can be precious, but not when they stop us from moving forward.”

“Or our memories can be ones best left totally in the
past but still have a hold on us that we haven't been able to shake.”

“We can always make new memories.”

Her mouth tilted up in a smile that went straight to his heart. “To replace the old?”

He nodded. “Mary wants us to sing Christmas songs this evening after dinner. She says that's what she misses most this year.”

“So that's why we're hearing them right now. Actually, for a good part of the past few days.”

“Yep. She found a radio station that plays Christmas music 24/7 until the twenty-fifth.”

“She wouldn't want to hear me sing. I can't carry a tune.”

“To Mary, that doesn't matter.”

“You've never talked about your own parents. Are they alive?”

He missed his parents and wished his mom were here to give him advice with Abbey. “No. My father died ten years ago and my mother a few years later. I think she died of a broken heart even though the official cause was a stroke. But at least both of them got to see and know Abbey.”

Elizabeth ran her hand along the back of a wing chair. “I'm thinking of calling my father to wish him a merry Christmas.”

“You are? What made you decide to do that?”

“You.”

“Me? How?”

“Our discussions about moving on. Not letting the past dictate our future. I won't be able to until I can tell my father I forgive him. He might not think he needs to be forgiven, but I need to do it. I need to have some closure on my childhood.” She moved away from him, prowling the living room as though restlessness had taken hold of
her. “I don't know if I can do it. I even tried a few days ago and hung up before it rang.”

Since he'd met her, she had inspired him to live for the present. He needed to make some changes or he would lose his daughter. Working all the time hadn't been the best answer to dealing with his grief. Certainly not for Abbey. “But you found the courage to make the attempt. You'll do it when it feels right.”

“My goal is by Christmas. Life's too short to let this anger consume me.”

“That a good—”

“Dad, Elizabeth!”

Abbey's urgent shout from the second floor landing propelled him across the living room and out into the foyer, Elizabeth next to him, her hand going to her gun. His daughter, her face drained of color, clutched the railing on the second floor.

“I got an email from…” Her voice grew raspier until she couldn't say anything.

With Elizabeth slightly ahead of him, Slade took the stairs two at a time.

Abbey turned toward them, one hand still gripping the banister so tight her knuckles were white. Lifting an arm that shook, she pointed toward her bedroom. “It's still on the computer. It's about you, Dad.”

As Slade charged down the hallway, Elizabeth stayed with Abbey. He crossed his daughter's room and saw the email, titled From a Friend, on the screen. The address from one of the free online services didn't mean anything to him. Elizabeth came up behind him when he began reading the message, “I haven't forgotten you, Slade. I'm coming soon. A friend.”