She sighed and began sorting through her messages, shooting off quick responses to several inquiries. Staying busy would be the best way to help her forget about what had happened yesterday.
The last message on her screen caught her eye. Spam, she assumed. That or someone from another country claiming they needed her help receiving a million-dollar inheritance.
She clicked on the message, ready to hit Delete when the words on the screen stopped her.
What do you think about dying a slow, painful death? Get used to the idea because it’s your fate. The fun is only beginning, Elle Philips. Prepare yourself for the adventure ahead.
She screamed and dropped her coffee.
* * *
Denton stepped into Senator Philip’s elaborate, stately study and saw Elle in the distance, dressed in a black business suit, clipboard in hand and talking animatedly to a group surrounding her. She didn’t hear him enter the room, so he took a moment to observe.
She had a slender figure. Tiny chin, big eyes, flawless skin and silky brown hair that fell below her shoulders. Not that he’d noticed.
He’d always known she was beautiful—anyone could see that. But it was the genuine kindness in her eyes that set her apart from all the other pretty women out there. Some females in her position would be snotty or unapproachable. But Elle was grounded, and she had a smile that would set anyone at ease.
He cleared his throat. Her head swung toward him, and her eyes widened in surprise.
“Denton?” She excused herself and walked toward him. The knot on her face had been nicely concealed, and Denton could hardly tell anything had happened to her yesterday. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m escorting you to the debate.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Escorting me to the debate?”
“That’s right. In light of the recent threats against you, your father has hired me as your bodyguard. He didn’t mention it?”
Her eyes narrowed further. “No, he did not. I’d say I don’t need a bodyguard, but I think we’d both know I was lying if I did.”
Good, she knew the reality of the situation. That made his job somewhat easier than working with someone in denial of the danger they faced. He had to admit that he’d been relieved when Senator Philips had called him this morning. Really, Denton should have assigned one of his men to this job so he could oversee operations at Eyes. But Denton knew he couldn’t trust this one to anyone else. Besides, Senator Philips had requested him personally.
The senator strode into the room. “Denton! Thanks for coming out at such short notice. I begged Elle to take a long vacation somewhere until all this passed, but she refused.”
“There’s a chance she wouldn’t be safe on vacation, either, Senator. We still need to figure out who we’re dealing with here, but my gut feeling is that these guys aren’t going to let anything stop them.”
Elle shivered, her cool confidence leaving her gaze a moment, replaced with fear. As quickly as it disappeared, her facade returned.
“I’m sorry to be so brutally honest, Elle, but you need to know who you’re dealing with here. My team of profilers has been—”
Elle placed a hand on her hip, eyes wide in disbelief. “Your team of profilers? Who are you guys, the FBI?”
Denton smirked. “We’re like the FBI, only better.”
Elle raised an eyebrow. “A little cocky, aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “I’m just telling the truth. We only hire the best.”
“And why would people want to work for you over an official government agency?”
“We pay better, for starters.”
Her father stepped forward. “He’s telling the truth. They’re the best. Former FBI, CIA, Secret Service, military special operations, you name it.”
“Excuse me for speaking about you as if you’re not here for a moment, but, Dad, you said yesterday that Denton has worked for you before. When was that? Why don’t I remember?”
“You were down taking care of your grandmother for that month before she passed. Almost two years ago. Remember we had that lobbyist making threats against me after one of my votes in the senate? I hired Denton then.”
Elle nodded slowly. “I see.”
Her father looked at his watch. “I must be going now. Denton will be driving you there.” He leaned forward to kiss his daughter on the cheek. “Be safe, now.”
As soon as he exited the room, Elle’s gaze fell on Denton. “Let me just gather my things.” She paused. “I really want to say that all of this is unnecessary. But it’s not, is it?”
Denton shook his head. “That man hardly flinched when he killed Julie yesterday. If he and his partner are after money and they now realize you’re a senator’s daughter, then my guess is that they’re seeing an opportunity they don’t want to pass up.”
Fear stained her eyes. “An opportunity?”
He nodded, knowing his words would feel like a slap in the face to Elle. “An opportunity they’d kill for.”
THREE
D
enton saw Elle shiver as his words settled on her. He’d found that being direct was always the best tactic, especially in life-or-death situations. But he hated to see a woman frightened. He especially hated to see Elle frightened.
Elle seemed to brush off her chills as she grabbed a briefcase and leather jacket. “No need to dwell on that too long right now.” She nodded toward the front door. “Let’s go.”
Denton placed a hand on her back as they walked outside into the early autumn day. “I’m driving.”
“Bodyguard and chauffeur? So much for trying to live like a normal person.”
“I aim to please.”
The whiff of her flowery perfume drifted to him on the October breeze. He recognized the scent from their talks at the bank. It was just one thing he enjoyed about running into her each week. That, her smile and her subdued wit.
He directed her to his black SUV, opened the door and waited as she climbed inside before jogging around to the driver’s side. They were the last of the entourage to leave. As he started down the driveway, Elle waved at a guard stationed by a gate at the front of their house.
“Pull over a minute.”
Denton did as directed. She rolled down her window and smiled at the guard, a man probably in his early fifties with an almost completely bald head. “Happy birthday, Jimmy.”
“You remembered. You’re one in a million, Ms. Philips.” The guard grinned, obviously pleased at the attention. His grin faded, though. “Your father told me about everything that happened. You be careful, now.”
“Don’t worry. My father put the best on the job.” She nodded toward Denton.
Jimmy glanced at him, and Denton raised his chin, glad his sunglasses concealed his examination of the man. He appeared affable enough and truly seemed to adore Elle, in an almost fatherly way. Right now, though, Denton had to be suspicious of everyone.
“Take care of her, sir. The world would be a sad place without her.”
“I plan on doing just that.”
They pulled away, traveling down a lone country road that led away from the senator’s estate. Elle stared pensively out the window as they rolled along. “You know where you’re going?”
“The Virginia Beach Convention Center. The last of the debates between your father and his political challenger. About five thousand people are expected to come for the event, which will be televised on two of the three major networks and broadcasted to viewers in Virginia.”
The perfect opportunity if someone wanted to show themselves and make a statement, Denton thought. His only security detail was protecting Elle, he reminded himself. There were other law enforcement officers there in charge of providing security for the event itself. The fact that Senator Philips would be there meant amped-up security in general.
Senator Philips seemed nice enough, in a politician sort of way. He was warm, the kind of man you might want to kick back with for hot dogs and a baseball game. He was obviously affectionate toward his daughter. But Denton had always believed that charm could be deceptive and, for that reason, Denton remained cautious around the man. That charm had gotten Senator Philips elected, but it was his ability to manipulate situations that had kept him in office.
“It sounds like you’ve done your homework.”
“Don’t expect—or accept—anything less.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t.” Her grin softened her words a bit.
Denton glanced over at Elle. “So you’re the campaign manager for your father.”
“I am. You didn’t know that when you befriended me at the bank?”
“I just thought you were intriguing. I never expected to be your bodyguard or realized that I’d worked with your father in the past. He kept his family private. I was surprised he even approved of someone doing an article about you.” Some aspects of the senator’s family life were public—and purposely so. But many details were still kept as limited as possible, especially where Elle was concerned.
“The article was my idea. My father has had some rumors floating around about him recently, rumors that make him seem less than likable. I wanted to bring some positive PR to his campaign and make him seem more like a family man.”
“You mean instead of a womanizer?”
She blanched. “Yes. I thought if people could see the part of my father that I saw, maybe he could gain an even bigger lead in the polls. My father was actually against it, truth be known.”
“It was a nice article.” It confirmed most of what he’d already assumed about her. She was smart, talented, beautiful and accomplished. “You’re a former Miss Virginia, huh? Can you do the beauty pageant wave for me?”
She smiled and humored him with a little wave. He liked seeing the goofy side of her instead of the always poised woman that she liked to present herself as.
He chuckled. “That factoid did surprise me. I didn’t see you as the beauty pageant type.”
“I’m not. My parents encouraged me to do it. They said it would look nice on my résumé and give me good experience. And I agree. It accomplished those things.”
He glanced in his rearview mirror, checking to see if anyone was tailing them. Nothing suspicious caught his eye, but he still needed to remain on guard. Always watching, observing, calculating what-ifs.
“Is everything okay?” Elle’s facade cracked a moment as her worry showed through.
“Everything’s fine. I just have to keep my eyes open.”
“It could have been an idle threat.”
“Could be.”
“But it might not be.”
“Exactly.”
She sighed, her shoulders slacking ever so slightly. “Don’t people have better things to do than to scare or harm others? It makes no sense to me.”
“Don’t try to understand evil. It’s useless.”
“You’re right. I guess I shouldn’t even try. It’s just—why would someone steal money instead of simply working for it? Don’t people have enough to worry about in their own lives rather than making other people miserable?”
“I’d venture to say that most criminals aren’t psychopaths. These men most likely have a motive behind what they’re doing, a reason they’re using to justify their actions. It could be the money—maybe they feel entitled, think that they deserve more than they have—or they could be trying to make a statement of some sort.”
“Make a statement, huh? What kind of statement would they be trying to make with threatening me?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
“You mentioned your team of profilers earlier, but I cut you off. What did your team conclude?”
“One of the subjects is the dominant personality and the other is submissive. The dominant’s emotions were tightly under control, while the submissive was taken by surprise by the murder. But even though the second subject seemed in the dark, we believe the crime was well thought-out, the murder perhaps even preplanned.”
“Impressive. And chilling.”
“The police are working the case right now. They’re looking at video feeds from everywhere around the area.”
“Did the K-9 unit turn up anything?”
“No, they lost the scent at about a block away. The suspects probably jumped into a getaway car.”
“Does that mean there are three? A driver also?”
“There’s always that chance.”
“This isn’t good.”
Denton shook his head, wishing he could comfort her. But he couldn’t. “You’re right. It’s not. But I’m not going to let you out of my sight until these guys are arrested.”
* * *
Elle stood backstage, her arms folded over her chest as she watched the debate from the sidelines. Her dad had answered every question with educated, reasoned responses, even combining some humor into the mix. He had this election in the bag...at least, she hoped.
These threats against her had her unnerved enough. Then throw Mark Denton into the mix and she felt even more uneasy. Not because she didn’t trust Denton—the opposite, in fact. She felt more drawn to the man than to anyone in a long time. But there was no room in her life to play with the idea of romance.
Not only was she incredibly busy with the campaign, but her last relationship had completely shattered her trust in men. When she and Denton had innocently flirted at the bank, that had been one thing. But now she was going to be forced to work with the man for...how long? Who knew?
The man was handsome—too handsome for his own good, probably. He had a rakish grin that Elle was sure women swooned over. Not Elle, of course. His build was solid and muscular, and he stood at least six feet tall, maybe taller, with brown eyes that could melt the coldest of hearts—except Elle’s. The man was confident, charming and he didn’t take himself too seriously. He knew how to work a room and how to handle himself in a tense situation. He’d proven that. And Elle had always been a sucker for men like that.
But she couldn’t be now. Not anymore. Not since Preston had taken every piece of trust she had for men and shredded it like yesterday’s paperwork. Men were not trustworthy, and she had no trust to give. End of story. The one thing she feared in life was failing and letting people down. When things had ended with Preston, she’d let herself down. The humiliation and shame she felt afterward had solidified her resolve to stay single—forever, if necessary.
Denton stood beside her, his gaze scanning the crowds just as he’d been doing since they’d arrived. The person who’d sent her that email wasn’t here tonight...or was he?
She prayed that the police would figure out the men’s identities and quickly so she could resume life and focus on other, more important things.
Her best friend, Brianna, shimmied up beside her and leaned close. “Who’s your escort?”
“He’s...no one. I’ll explain later. Long story.”
Brianna raised her eyebrows, her eyes twinkling. “I can’t wait to hear.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what’s it like?”
“Someone’s threatened me.”
“If someone threatens me, will I be forced to have someone who looks like him follow my every move? If so, bring on the threats.”
“Brianna!” Elle scolded. “This is serious.”
The sparkle left her friend’s eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry to make light of it. Are you going to be okay?”
“She’s going to be fine.” Elle looked up and saw Denton glance at Brianna, the corner of his mouth curled. Apparently he’d heard their conversation.
At least Brianna had the decency to blush a little.
Bentley Davis, her father’s chief-of-staff, bustled toward them. “The debate’s wrapping up. You ready for the reception afterward with our campaign donors?”
Elle nodded. “Of course. I confirmed the audio setup and the catering this morning. Everything’s in place.”
“Perfect. I left a few more pledge cards in the dressing room. Some people aren’t comfortable leaving any of their information online. Makes more work for us, though.”
“It’s no problem. I’ll have Brianna enter the information.” Bentley was always so concerned with his to-do list that he often turned people away with his off-putting manner. Elle prayed she’d never get so wrapped up in her goals that she forgot about the people around her.
As the debate ended, Elle turned to Denton. “Let me grab my things. The reception is in one of the conference rooms down the hall.”
He didn’t miss a beat as he fell into step beside her. “I’m coming with you.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
Denton stayed close as they wove between people toward the dressing room. She had to admit—she felt safe with him nearby and, even without knowing a lot about him, she already trusted his competence and skill.
Elle’s conversation with Brianna fluttered through her mind. She glanced over at Denton. “By the way, I apologize for my assistant earlier. She’s always been the one who speaks before she thinks.”
“No apologies necessary. She’s your assistant?”
“As of two months ago she became my assistant. Before that, she was simply my best friend.”
“Your best friend now works for you? Sounds like an interesting dynamic.”
“She and her husband just split, and she’s having trouble making ends meet right now. I needed an assistant so I hired her. It seems like a win-win...for now, at least.”
“I see.” He paused for a second. “Tell me more about Bentley Davis.”
Elle’s gaze cut to him, but she didn’t slow her steps. “Bentley? He’s worked with my dad for years, ever since Dad was a judge. Why do you ask?”
“Until we know who’s behind these threats, everyone is a suspect.”
“Even Bentley? He’s quite annoying sometimes, but truly harmless.” She pushed into the dressing room and spotted the papers atop her soft-as-butter leather briefcase. “Besides, if he’d been one of the robbers, I think I would have recognized him. They were strangers, remember?”
“Remember that things aren’t always as they seem, Elle. And there could be a third person involved, someone you never saw or heard. Everything that happened yesterday could have been a ruse for something bigger. There are a lot of unknowns right now.”
“I have a hard time believing anything other than that my involvement in this whole thing is random. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“Let me decide that.”
She flipped through the correspondence with one hand while she grabbed her briefcase with the other hand and swung it over her shoulder.
“Anything good?”
“Any support of my father’s campaign is good.” She glanced up and smiled. “But yes, there are some pledges in here that look promising.”
She paused when she got to a sealed envelope. Why hadn’t Bentley opened this one? She slid her fingernail through the paper and pulled out a card. She sucked in a breath, noting that this wasn’t their normal correspondence.
“What is it?” Denton’s hand covered hers.
She dropped the papers from her hands. They scattered across the floor as Elle backed away.
“Elle?”
She pointed at the floor. “There are pictures of me. From this morning.” Reading on her laptop inside the sunroom. Drinking coffee by the window. Sitting pensively on the porch.
Denton picked one up. “Pictures? How did someone get pictures?”
“There was a message, too, Denton, stuck on a sticky note.”
“What did it say?”