The Bodyguard (11 page)

“The study,” she whispered. “He’s got someone else in there. A woman. He’s hurting her. We can’t leave her here.”

His mouth thinned. “I know. Try to stay out of the way, okay? Can you at least promise you won’t jump out in front of a gun or something?”

“I’m not an idiot.”

He grinned. “No, you’re not an idiot. You’re beautiful, maddening and utterly adorable, but never an idiot.”

She grinned back.

They hurried along the edge of the wall so the occupants of the study couldn’t see them. When they reached the doorway, Luke motioned for her to stay there.

She nodded, content to trust that he knew what he was doing. If she saw an opening to help, she would. But he didn’t need to know that. After all, she didn’t want to distract him, as he’d said earlier.

Another scream sounded from inside the room, oddly muted, though.

She pressed her hand to her throat.

Luke’s jaw tightened and he looked into the room. He stiffened, then hurriedly disappeared through the doorway.

Carol waited, but when he didn’t immediately return, she crept forward and peeked inside. When she saw what Luke had seen, the knife she’d been holding concealed in her left hand fell from her numb fingers and clattered to the marble floor.

* * *

L
UKE
HAD
JUST
reached the chair where Grant was sitting, when he heard the sound behind him and knew Carol had come into the room. His heart broke for her, but at the same time he couldn’t help her, not yet.

Grant didn’t move in spite of the noise Carol had made. Instead, he held his head in his hands and wept. Luke rushed around the edge of the chair and grabbed the gun that Grant had placed on the end table. Grant lifted his head and gave him a bleary-eyed look.

“Go ahead,” he rasped. “Shoot me. It doesn’t matter now.”

“Where’s your knife?” Luke demanded, pointing the gun at him.

Another scream sounded from the tableau playing on the big-screen TV at the end of the room. Luke winced and forced himself not to look. He’d already seen more than he’d ever wanted to see when he entered the room.

“The knife,” he prodded. “And for the love of God, turn the TV off.”

Grant fumbled on his left side for the knife he’d apparently tucked into the cushion.

A whimper escaped from Carol.

Luke couldn’t stand knowing what she was seeing. He couldn’t wait for Grant to find the remote, either. He turned his gun and fired at the TV. The screen cracked and went dark, a burning smell rising through the room. Luke didn’t care if the entire house burned down. At least Carol wasn’t seeing the recording of herself anymore, being beaten and raped by her former husband.

Grant handed the knife to Luke. “I’m sorry, Caroline,” he called out. “I didn’t know. Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

She crossed to the TV and took the video card out of the player beneath it before facing him. She clenched the card in her fist. “It was my shame, my burden, to share or not to share. And neither you nor Daniel ever made a secret of your dislike for me. I had no reason to think you would believe me, or help me, if I told you about Richard.”

He wiped his eyes that were still streaming tears. “You were a waitress. We thought you married him for his money. But that doesn’t mean we wouldn’t have helped you if we’d...” He shook his head. “I didn’t know. And after Richard was killed, I assumed you were behind it, that you’d paid someone to kill him. And once I heard about the will, I figured you must have switched the wills so you’d get all his money.”

“Why did you break into the house back in town last night?” Luke asked, risking a quick glance at Carol to see if she was okay. She was pale, but holding her own.

“I broke in because I knew Richard had those recorders all over the place. He was always paranoid like that. I was going to get the cards and watch them to see if any of them showed Caroline talking to someone about killing Richard, or talking about the will.” He shook his head. “But it doesn’t matter now. I don’t care that you killed him. He deserved it for what he did to you. God, I’m so, so sorry.” He covered his face with his hands again.

Carol’s face had gone ashen as he spoke. “What other recorders?”

Luke held the gun on Grant and crossed the room to stand by her. “Answer the question.”

Grant wiped his eyes and collapsed against the back of the chair. “Richard showed me one of the recorders once, a long time ago, at his office. He was trying to catch someone he thought was guilty of sharing corporate secrets with one of his competitors. He joked that he should use them at home, too, to make sure the staff wasn’t helping themselves to the silver when he wasn’t around. When I was visiting the mansion once, I searched the guest room I was in just to see if he was serious, and I found the camera hidden in the top dresser drawer—just like the camera hidden in his desk drawer at work. I always figured he had them in every room after that.”

Luke reached out his left hand. Carol threaded her fingers with his and he gently squeezed.

“Carol isn’t the one who had your brother killed,” Luke said. He felt more than saw Carol’s gaze on him. “I don’t need to see the recordings to know that.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

He nodded. “Grant, my phone’s broken. Do you have a phone?”

Grant reached into his back pocket.

Luke stiffened. “Slowly.”

Grant carefully pulled out the cell phone.

“Put it on the coffee table in the center of the room and then sit back down.”

Grant did as he was told. When he was a safe distance away, Luke picked up the phone and handed it to Carol. “Will you call 911?”

She made the call, gave them the address, then sat on one of the couches with Luke, facing Grant.

“I think you made up that story about thinking Carol was behind your brother’s death,” Luke said. “
You’re
the one who killed him. And you killed Mitch. Did you come here to kill Carol, too?”

Grant’s eyes widened and he vigorously shook his head. “No, no, no. I swear. I would never hurt anyone. I didn’t bring a gun with me here. I only took your gun away so you wouldn’t shoot me.”

“Right. And those were warning shots you fired at me.”

“They were! I only came here to talk. I wanted the truth from Caroline.”

“People who want to talk don’t break into other people’s houses and hit them over the head with a baseball bat.”

His face flushed red. “I just wanted to overpower you so I could get your gun away and make you both sit down. I admit, I probably went about it the wrong way. But you have to understand. I thought she’d killed Richard, or had him killed, so I was afraid for my own life, too.”

“I’m not buying any of this,” Luke said.

“I am.” Carol’s soft voice called out beside him. “Grant has always been impulsive, and he’s not much better than me at making the most well-thought-out, reasoned choices.” She smiled sadly. “I also know you loved Richard deeply, even though you were both at odds with each other so much. You must have been overcome with grief thinking I had something to do with his death.”

“You’re being far kinder than I deserve,” Grant said.

“I agree.” Luke kept his gun trained on the other man.

“To be honest,” Carol said, “I was half convinced you might have been the one who’d killed him.”

“Me?” Grant’s face reddened again. “Why would you think that? I loved Richard.”

“I know, but you two argued so much.”

He twisted his hands together. “We argued about money, a cardinal sin in his opinion. Money meant everything to him.” His mouth tightened. “Even more than family.”

Luke had had enough of Grant’s whining and Carolʼs feeling sorry for him. The man had held a knife to Carol, twice. Even now there was a small smear of blood on her throat where his knife had pricked her. And his stunt on the balcony could have killed her if she’d let go before Luke could pull her back up. Grant didn’t deserve her sympathy. He deserved a fist in the face, just for starters. “You said something about a will earlier. What were you talking about?”

The look Grant gave Carol wasn’t anywhere near as sympathetic as it had been earlier. If anything, he looked bitter, angry, as if he’d hold that knife to her neck again if he got another chance.

Luke motioned with his gun, catching Grant’s attention. “Don’t look at her. Look at me, and answer my question.”

“Why don’t you ask her? She may have killed Richard, she may not have. I don’t know. And I don’t care anymore after watching that, that...” He waved at the broken TV. “But it’s not fair that she switched Richard’s will. It doesn’t matter how mad he was at me, he wouldn’t have left me only five million dollars. And he didn’t have any reason to be mad at Daniel and only leave him five million, too. I want to know where the real will is. The one that was filed with the court is fake.”

Carol shook her head. “I don’t know anything about a new will. All I know is that Richard drew one up shortly after we got married and I assume that’s the one that was filed with the court.”

“Why do you care about the will?” Luke asked. “You and your brother are both millionaires.”

“Daniel’s a millionaire, but not me. My money’s all tied up in my company. In case you hadn’t noticed, the economy has been rough for the past few years. I’m close to bankruptcy. And my daughter is ready to start college. Five million dollars is a Band-Aid. We’re going to lose everything.”

Sirens sounded outside the window, getting closer.

Grant’s fingers tightened on the arm of his chair.

“Don’t even think about it,” Luke warned.

Grant cursed and sat back.

Carol had grown quiet. Once again she’d been put through more than anyone should have to bear. All Luke wanted to do was hold her and assure her that everything would be okay. But it would be a lie. Because he wasn’t at all sure that it would be. Someone had murdered Richard Ashton. And someone had killed Mitch. Was that person Grant? Yes, probably. But if there was even a remote possibility that Grant was innocent, then the culprit was still out there, and Carol’s life was still in danger.

The sirens stopped in front of the house, their lights flashing through the windows behind the ruined TV.

“I’ll let them in.” Carol crossed the room. She stopped at the doorway and glanced down at the video card in her hand. She looked around, as if searching for something, and then held her hands up. It looked as if she was trying to bend the card in two, but she wasn’t strong enough.

A rapid knock sounded on the front door. “Police. We had a 911 call from this address. Open up.”

“Give me the card,” Luke urged. “I’ll destroy it for you.” He wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or not. He didn’t want to look at the video, and certainly didn’t want anyone else to, but what if it contained evidence that would prove the identity of the killer?

Carol hurried to him but hesitated as she started to hand him the card. “Promise me you won’t look at it and that you’ll destroy it the first chance you get.”

Guilt squeezed his throat, making it tight. He didn’t want to give her his word when he wasn’t sure yet what he was going to do. He didn’t make promises lightly. And she didn’t deserve to be lied to.

She frowned. “Luke?”

He cleared his throat, self-loathing nearly choking him. “Promise.”

The look of relief that crossed her face had him silently cursing himself.

She handed him the card.

He shoved it into his pants pocket as she rushed out of the room to let the police inside.

Chapter Ten

It took over an hour to sort out things at the house
and for an EMT to stitch the wound on the side of Luke’s head. He refused to go
to the hospital, saying he was fine and that he wanted to keep guarding Carol
until the police determined whether or not Grant was the killer.

When Luke and the police escort ushered Carol into the police
station back in Savannah, the dull hum of noise quickly faded to an almost eerie
silence. And when Carol saw one of the local gossip papers sitting on a table in
the lobby area and saw her picture on the front page, she knew why. The caption
underneath read
Did Wealthy, Abused
Socialite Finally Get Her Revenge?

Luke’s hand at her back tensed. He’d noticed the paper, too.
Their eyes met and he shook his head, as if trying to tell her not to worry
about it. She smiled, both to reassure him and to give the impression to anyone
watching that she didn’t care what others thought of her.

“In here.” The police officer pushed a glass door open and
waved them into an office. “Can I get you anything to eat or drink while you
wait for Detective Cornell?”

Since the officer was looking at Carol, she shook her head.
“I’m fine. Thank you.”

“How long do you think Cornell will be?” Luke asked. He sat
beside Carol in front of Cornell’s desk.

“Depends on how the interview goes. As long as Ashton is
talking, Cornell won’t leave the room. You sure you want to wait?”

“Yes,” they both said at the same time.

The officer left, closing the door behind him.

“Actually,” Carol said, rising from her chair, “I wouldn’t mind
a moment in the ladiesʼ room to freshen up.”

Luke stood, too, and stepped to the door.

She put a hand on his arm. “I can handle this without you. We
passed the ladiesʼ room two doors down. And the place is crawling with police
officers. I’ll be perfectly safe.”

He didn’t want to let her leave without him, but she
insisted.

“All right. But if you’re gone more than a few minutes, I’m
sending a policewoman in there after you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She smiled again and headed out.

Luke stood in the hallway outside Cornell’s office watching
her. She gave him a small wave and went into the ladiesʼ room.

Once inside, she quickly saw to her needs. Then she pulled her
cell phone out of her purse to take care of the real reason she’d wanted a
moment of privacy. Since meeting Luke she’d been as honest as possible with him,
except for keeping the details of her relationship with her husband as private
as she could. But this one time she knew she couldn’t make this call in front of
him because he would have argued and tried to stop her.

The phone rang twice, then a man’s deep voice answered.
“Hello?”

“Hello, it’s me, Carol Ashton.”

“Is everything okay? Luke called me earlier and told me what
happened at the house in the country.”

“Yes, yes, we’re both fine. Actually, we’re at the police
station. Cornell took Grant Ashton to an interview room and he’s talking to him
right now.”

“Good. I hope Ashton tells Cornell everything.”

“I don’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s why I called. I don’t want Grant telling Cornell
anything.
I need your help.”

* * *

H
ALF
AN
HOUR
LATER
,
Cornell stepped into his office and greeted Carol and Luke before sitting behind
his desk. “Looks like we’ve got our man.”

“He confessed?” Luke asked.

“Sort of. He admits he’s the one who broke into the Ashton
mansion here in town the other night and left Mrs. Ashton dangling off the
balcony.”

Carol shuddered at the memory and gripped her hands together in
her lap.

“He also said he moved the GPS tracking device from Mrs.
Ashton’s car to your Thunderbird because he figured if Mrs. Ashton went anywhere
she’d be with you.”

“How did he know where the tracker was in the first place?”
Luke asked.

“I get the impression he and his brother Richard used to be
quite close. He knew a lot of his secrets.” Cornell glanced at Carol and his
face turned a light shade of red. “Apparently not all of them, though. He
insisted quite emphatically that he didn’t know what your husband...did to you,
or he would have tried to help you.”

“I believe him,” she said. “I didn’t realize back then that he
would have helped, or I might have told him. But after seeing how upset he was
earlier, I do believe he would have tried to stop my husband.”

Cornell folded his arms on his desk. “He mentioned a video, and
that Luke shot the TV at the country house to stop the video. But no one found a
DVD or video card. Do either of you know what happened to it?”

“What else did he tell you?” Luke asked, avoiding the
question.

Carol shot him a grateful look.

Cornell studied both of them, obviously debating whether to
press the issue of the missing video. Finally, he said, “Grant gave us details
about how he tracked you to the house in the country. He insists he only did so
because he was convinced Mrs. Ashton had arranged for Richard to be killed and
he wanted a chance to confront her about it. He swore he never meant to hurt
either of you.”

Luke pointed to the side of his head where he had a brand-new
row of stitches. “I’d like to offer evidence to the contrary.”

“Noted, I assure you. The gist of what he said was that he
wanted to confront Carol both about the murder and about his brother’s will.
He’s convinced there’s another will somewhere and that Mrs. Ashton knows where
it is.”

“Did Grant say anything about killing Mitch?” Luke asked.

“He insists he had nothing to do with that, or his brother’s
death. His financial difficulties are a strong motive for him killing his
brother. He assumed Richard would bequeath him a substantial part of his
fortune, and he was bitterly surprised when that didn’t happen. As for Mitch, we
haven’t come up with a motive yet but the evidence supports the possibility that
Grant killed him.”

Carol straightened in her chair. “What evidence?”

“One of the people at the cemetery remembered seeing Grant and
Mitch arguing before the service started. Grant was apparently upset about Mitch
taking pictures. I don’t know whether there was more to it than that, or whether
that would be enough to make Grant turn violent. But from what we’re gleaning
from other interviews with Grant’s friends and known associates, he has a temper
and tends to act without thinking first. Plus, he’s known to carry a
pocketknife. The coroner said a small knife, like a pocketknife, was used to
kill Mr. Brody.”

Luke winced.

Carol offered him a sympathetic smile before turning back to
Cornell. “I thought you said Grant might be Richard’s killer. It doesn’t sound
to me like you have any evidence of that.”

Cornell smiled and put his hands behind his head. “That’s
because I saved the best part for last. You told me at the country house that
Grant and Richard argued quite a bit. I was able to subpoena Grant’s credit-card
records and already got a hit that puts a whole new light on things.”

He sat forward, resting his arms on his desk. “The morning of
Richard Ashton’s murder, Grant Ashton filled up at a gas station...two miles
from the cottage where Ashton was murdered. Lucky for us, that station is
brand-new, with state-of-the-art electronic video surveillance. They keep their
recordings on a hard drive, which means they can store them for months without
running out of space and writing over them again like some of the cheaper
equipment does. I’ve got someone on the way there right now to review the
recordings from the morning of the murder. I think we all know who we’re going
to see on that video.”

He pushed himself up from his chair and straightened his
jacket. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I think I’ve let my subject stew long enough.
I’m about to go get that confession.”

A knock sounded on the door.

“Come in,” Cornell called out.

A police officer opened the door and stood back. Alex Buchanan
walked in wearing a suit and holding a briefcase.

Luke and Carol stood.

“I didn’t know you were coming to the station,” Luke said. “Did
your investigator find something out about the case?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Then why are you here?”

He glanced at Carol before crossing to Cornell. “I’ve been
notified that you have a client of mine in custody and that you’re interviewing
him without his lawyer present. I’m here to stop the interview and confer with
my client.”

A look of confusion crossed Cornell’s face. “But the only
person I’m interviewing right now is Grant Ashton.”

“He’s my client.”

“He hasn’t asked for a lawyer,” Cornell insisted.

“A family member hired me to represent him.”

Cornell crossed his arms across his chest. “Oh? Who? His
brother, Daniel?”

“That information is confidential.”

Cornell argued with Alex about having the right to know who was
trying to make things so difficult for him.

Luke wasn’t paying attention to either of them. Instead, he was
intently watching
her.

She cleared her throat. “Gentlemen.” When Cornell continued to
shout, she cleared her throat louder. “Detective, Alex, please. I think I can
clear up this...misunderstanding.”

Cornell gave her an aggravated look. “Oh? And how can you do
that?”

“I’m the family member who hired Alex.”

* * *

C
ORNELL
’
S
PREVIOUSLY
COOPERATIVE
attitude
ended the moment Carol told him she’d asked Alex to represent her
brother-in-law. He ushered her and Luke out of his office and ordered them to
wait down the hall in a conference room while he and Alex went to see Grant.

Once inside, Luke shut the door and pulled a chair out for
Carol. He crossed to the other side of the table, but rather than sit, he
flattened his palms on the table and leaned down toward her.

“What was that all about?” he growled.

She calmly picked up her purse and stood. She was all the way
to the door before he realized she was actually leaving. He rushed around the
table and caught up to her in the hallway.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Leaving.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, got that.
Why
are you leaving?”

Her knuckles whitened from where she gripped her purse so
tightly. “I spent nearly five years cowering from a man who used his size and
strength to intimidate and hurt me. Those days are over.”

She tried to move past him.

He reached out toward her.

She flinched and backed up.

Luke froze, his hand in midair. The anger drained out of him as
understanding dawned. “Carol, I was just going to fix your purse strap. It’s
about to fall off your shoulder.”

Her face flushed and she grabbed the strap just as the purse
started to fall.

Luke took a step back to give her some more space. “I thought
you knew I would never hurt you.”

Her blue eyes rose to his and he was shocked at the anger that
flashed in them. “Yes, I do know that. Because I won’t let you, or any man, hurt
me. Ever. Again.”

He scrubbed his jaw with his hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t know
what else to say. Was I using my size back there to intimidate you? Yeah, I
guess I was. My size is an asset in my line of work. I use it to my advantage
automatically, without even thinking about it. But I never should have done that
with you. It won’t happen again.”

She glanced uncertainly past him.

He held his hand out toward the door. “We need to talk.
Please.”

The seconds ticked by like minutes and Luke was worried he’d
screwed up beyond her ability to forgive. How could he have been so stupid,
knowing her past? If he could kick his own ass he would.

She took a step toward the conference room but stopped at the
sound of footsteps.

Alex Buchanan turned the corner and headed toward them. “Are
you two leaving?”

Luke raised a brow and waited for Carol to make that
decision.

“No, we were just going back into the conference room,” she
said.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Of course not.”

Luke would have rather had a private conversation with her, but
since he didn’t have a choice, he followed the two of them back into the room
and closed the door.

Alex leaned his forearms on the table. “Grant gave me
permission to share what he and I discussed, but you hired me, Carol. Do you
want me to share the information in private or can Luke be included?”

“Of course he can be included. Please, tell us what you found
out.”

Carol’s quick agreement to include Luke had some of his earlier
worry fading.

“Okay,” Alex said. “But first, I’m curious to know why you
hired me in the first place. You never really explained that on the phone.”

“The phone? When did you have a chance to call him?” Luke
asked.

Her face turned a light pink. “I wasn’t with you every single
minute since we got to the station.”

Luke frowned, then enlightenment dawned. She’d called Alex from
the bathroom. He grinned but decided to stay quiet so he wouldn’t embarrass her
further.

“I hired you because it was the right thing to do. Grant isn’t
the killer—”

“You don’t know that,” Luke insisted.

“Yes. I do. I’ve known Grant for a long time. And while I may
not know a great deal about his personal life and what makes him tick, I do know
one thing for certain. When he gets upset, he lets everything out. There’s no
holding back. He doesn’t know how to be clever or coy. Back at the country
house, his emotions were raw. He was telling the truth when he said he didn’t
kill Richard. It isn’t right for him to be railroaded into prison. And it
especially isn’t right that his wife and daughter should suffer, either.”