Protector's Honor
“Exaggerated? You mean your grandmother doesn’t run Hendersonville? And you’re not the town’s greatest athlete?”
Rory laughed heartily. The wide smile and the deep rich sounds of his voice warmed her. “You know, Gram may actually run the town. At least, she thinks she does. But the other? That’s a new one.”
“Hmm. I also heard that you’re some kind of special cop which confused me since you told me you were a marine.”
“Former marine. Now, I’m a federal agent. I work for NCIS.”
“N-C-I—what?” Apparently, she was supposed to recognize the acronym.
“Naval Criminal Investigative Service. Like the TV show?”
She shrugged and turned her palms up.
“We’re an organization like the FBI but run by the navy. My unit conducts terrorist-related investigations. We also investigate serious crimes committed by or against navy personnel.”
“So I guess what happened today was nothing for you?”
“I don’t know about that. I don’t usually run unarmed in front of a man with a gun pointed at me.”
“Well, I’m glad you did,” she commented.
“Me, too.”
Tabitha locked eyes with him and felt her heart rate increase to some anaerobic rhythm. Oh, dear. Was she blushing? She fumbled for something to say. Anything. “So, if you’re not a marine anymore, why the haircut?”
“Oh.” He chuckled then leaned forward running a hand across the fresh buzz. “I don’t usually—my grandmother likes it like this.”
“Nice.” Tabitha didn’t stop her grin. It wasn’t every day she met a bona fide tough guy willing to shave his head for his grandmother. “So, did the cops find those men on the mountain?”
“No. They’re probably long gone. But the detectives will be here any minute and we can give them good descriptions.”
She pressed away from the table. “In that case, I’m going to change.”
“I don’t think so.” He grabbed her wrist. His eyes shifted toward the colonial-style inn with its multistepped entrance then looked at her bad ankle. “I’ll go. Tell me what to get.”
Tabitha took in a sharp breath, acutely aware of his touch. And it annoyed her that he was right about the ankle. She was in no shape to hop all the way to her room. She exhaled, showing her agitation.
“I’m just trying to help,” Rory explained.
“I know.” She dropped her head, pushed the loose wisps of hair from her face and smiled. “I left the key at the front desk. Will they give it to you?”
“Yep. I know the manager.” He winked.
“You know everyone,” she teased.
“The benefit of growing up in a small town. So, tell me what you need.”
Tabitha sighed and gave into his offer. “Well, on the bed you’ll find my warm-up pants and a pink Nike T-shirt. And if you could, grab my cell phone, too. It’s on the dresser.”
“Pants, shirt, phone. Got it.” Rory’s kind smile flooded her with an unexpected rush. He moved beside her, his eyes fixed on her bad ankle which he lifted and placed on the chair where he’d been sitting. He put the ice pack over the sore joint and gave her hand a little squeeze. “Be right back.”
As he disappeared into the inn, she stared after him wondering what had just happened. Her fingers tingled where he’d touched them and her heart fluttered in an unsteady pattern. She hadn’t had that reaction to a man in years. Had to be her overwrought nerves. Prayer could fix that.
Lord, my head is clouded. Please be with me. The Lord is my rock, in whom I take refuge…
The psalm brought Tabitha some comfort until she noticed two men in suits talking to one of the police officers assigned to the event. The detectives. She drew in a sharp breath as her thoughts went back to the attack.
She shut her eyes and tried to remember the details of the morning. What had the men looked like? What had they said to her? They had wanted something. Something Max had given her? But what could her brother have given her that these men would be willing to kill for?
Rory funneled his way through the hordes of people between the lunch tent and the inn. His mind swirled in a confusion of excitement and concern. Nothing like this had ever happened at a triathlon. Even as a federal agent, he’d only dealt with one case of abduction—enough to know they didn’t always end well.
God, thank You for using me to help Tabitha.
A prayer?
Yep. He’d said a prayer and it had flowed out of him quite naturally.
Was anyone listening?
That he didn’t know anymore. No one had listened when he’d begged for his father’s recovery.
Lifting a hand to his temple, he mounted the narrow set of whitewashed stairs. His headache had returned with the bitter emotions. The happiness he’d experienced helping Tabitha over the past hour slipped away with each step.
He entered the small lobby of the old B and B–style hotel, passing several antique hutches and tables, all loaded with country knickknacks and crockery. Crossing the wide-plank floor, he headed straight to the check-in. The manager, a petite blonde dressed in a simple white linen outfit, gave him a wide smile from behind the front counter.
He returned his cousin’s smile despite his heavy heart. “How are you, Terri?”
“Busy. But glad you came in,” she confessed. “You’ve been mighty scarce this week.”
“Yeah, well, you know…” Rory’s jaw clenched at the truth in her words. Hanging out with family only emphasized the absence of his father. It had been easier to be alone. “So, I guess you heard a racer was injured?”
“I heard you rescued someone.”
“Tabitha Beaumont, one of your guests.”
A look of concern fell over Terri’s face. “Ms. Beaumont? She’s hurt?”
“Sprained ankle. Nothing serious. But that’s only part of the story.” Rory shifted his weight back.
Terri folded her arms across her chest. “Well? What happened?”
“Two men, one armed, attempted to abduct her.”
“What?” The petite woman’s gray eyes grew large and a worried look settled across her face. “I didn’t know. I just heard someone needed a ride back from the trail. Where did this happen?”
“About halfway down. I know the whole mountain belongs to the resort so I wanted to tell you that I’ve called some detectives in. They’ll want to talk to you.”
“Certainly. This is terrible. I can’t believe it. Ms. Beaumont seems so sweet. I had tea with her when she arrived yesterday. I enjoyed chatting with her. Do you think she’s in some kind of trouble? You know, she’s a lawyer in Charlotte.”
“A lawyer? Really?” He’d not even asked. Come to think of it, he hadn’t asked her anything. He’d been talking about himself. How had that happened? “What else did she tell you? Did she seem upset about anything?”
“No. Not that I could tell. A little nervous about the race. She said her older brother’s into triathlons and talked her into trying one.”
“This was her first race?” His eyebrows lifted.
Terri nodded. “That’s what she said. Why?”
He chuckled. “She did well. She’d been moving along for a first timer…” Rory stopped his pointless comment. Where was his focus? “I—I doubt it’s important. Anything else you remember? Was anyone meeting her or assisting her at the bike drop-off or the finish?”
“Now that you mention it, I recall her booking two rooms.” Terri took a moment to pull up some records on her computer. “The other room was registered under the name Bristow. She canceled it a few days ago.”
Bristow. Probably not her brother. Different last name. Boyfriend? Could this person be connected to what had happened? Rory pressed his fingers to the bridge of his aching nose, wishing he’d taken some aspirin for himself. “Did she say why?”
Terri shook her head. “No. Is it important? Is this what the police will ask me?”
“Maybe, but they’ll also want to know about the grounds and security. How you handle the event. Stuff like that.”
“Okay.” Terri rubbed her hands together nervously.
“I’ll go see if they’ve arrived, but first, Ms. Beaumont needs a favor. A few things from her room. Could you let me in since she can’t get up here with her bad ankle?”
She rolled her eyes. “Always ready to help a damsel in distress, huh? Especially if she’s beautiful?”
“Do you really think I’m that shallow?” Rory held his hands in the air, feigning innocence.
“No. But you have other issues.” Terri reached under the desk and pulled out an electronic key card. Then she called another clerk to cover the front. “Come on. I’ll walk you up,” she said to Rory.
Together, they headed up the wooden staircase to the second floor.
“What issues?” he asked. “I don’t have any issues.”
Terri pursed her lips together. “Uh…you haven’t been in a serious relationship in years.”
“I don’t have time to date. That doesn’t mean I have issues.”
“Whatever you say.” Terri was shaking her head. Rory bit back a reply. Why did he care what she thought anyway?
They passed several numbered doors continuing down a somber, narrow hallway with a few sharp turns. Terri stopped abruptly a few feet from an open door. Golden streams of sunlight spilled across the corridor. Speckles of dust hung lifeless in the downward rays. The quiet air seemed eerie, far removed from the cheerful whir of activity outside the inn.
Terri frowned. “I can’t imagine the staff leaving her door wide-open like that.”
Rory moved Terri against the wall. “Stay here.”
He reached under his arm where a holster would have normally held his automatic Glock. It wasn’t there, of course. He shook his head and entered.
The room was small—just enough space for the mission-style bed, a small upholstered chair and a three-drawer dresser. The bed’s white quilt had been thrown to the floor and the rest of the linens peeled from the mattress. A few articles of clothing lay willy-nilly across the floor and dresser. He found no cell phone, no purse, no suitcase. He moved over the hardwood floors and opened the door to the bath. There were no toiletries, not even a toothbrush or bottle of shampoo.
“Clear. Come in, Terri. Are you sure this is Ms. Beaumont’s room?” He examined a rumpled T-shirt that had been tossed recklessly into the corner.
“Oh, my!” Terri’s mouth dropped open as she entered the chaotic room. “Yes. It’s definitely her room. I brought her up myself.”
Rory looked under the bed. Clean and empty. He opened the dresser drawers. Empty. “There’s nothing in here but some dirty clothes.”
“She’s been robbed? Let me call my staff and see if anyone knows what’s happened.”
“No. Wait here. In fact, call someone to stay with you. I’m going to find the detectives and send them up.”
She nodded.
A new wave of anxiety washed over Rory. He didn’t need to be a cop to guess that the burgled room and the attack were connected. Maybe the men after Tabitha didn’t want her, but something she had? Maybe they wanted both?
At that, Rory flew down the stairs. He hoped leaving Tabitha alone hadn’t been a huge mistake.
THREE
“One man was tall, thin…blondish. The other heavyset. No taller than me,” Tabitha said to the policemen.
Detective Jon Greenwood sat across from her, rubbing his gray beard. His partner, Hines, stood nearby taking copious notes. They had joined her just minutes after Rory’s departure, exhausting her with their detailed questions. If the day had ended right then, it wouldn’t have been soon enough.
“And how tall is that?” Hines asked.
“I’m five-seven,” she said.
The taller detective looked up from his little white pad as if to check her measurements. “Five-seven. Good. Keep going.” He returned to his note-taking.
Tabitha sighed. “The shorter man was bald. Or maybe his head was shaved, and I think he had a scar on his face.” She paused and looked at the deep red marks on her wrists where he’d held her. Her mind flooded with old images—images of another man, one she’d known most of her life. He, too, had held her arms and made them raw. The memory unsettled her. “I’m sorry—I can’t remember any more.”
Tabitha banked her hands in her lap to control the trembling. She closed her eyes tight as if to squeeze out the unwelcome thoughts, but her focus was gone. The only idea she could hold on to was getting home.
Detective Hines stuck his pen behind his ear and took the seat next to her. “Try to relax, Ms. Beaumont. The details will come back to you.” He laid the pad aside and removed his jacket. “You’re shivering. Here. Take this.”
“Thank you.” She placed the tan sport coat across her chest and tucked her arms underneath.
“You mentioned the men wanted something from you,” Hines said. “Any idea what?”
“I don’t—” She shook her head. “I don’t think they said exactly.”
“But they named your brother?” Greenwood asked.
“I thought so. But my mind was on Max anyway since he’s been coaching me for the race.”
“And your brother’s a dentist?”
She nodded. “Yes. In Richmond.”
“We’ll need his number and address.”
“Sure. He’ll get a kick out it if you call him.” She rattled off the numbers while Hines recorded them in his notebook.
“Hope I didn’t miss much.” Rory appeared at the table. Greenwood and Hines gave him hearty handshakes.
“We miss your pop,” Greenwood relayed. “The new chief is good, but he’s no James Farrell.” Hines nodded in agreement.
Tabitha’s heart sank as she watched Rory’s jaw tighten. His dad had been chief of police. No wonder everyone fussed over his absence.
Stepping around the detectives, he pushed toward her.
She returned Hines’s coat and checked Rory’s arms for her clothing. But his hands were empty. “You couldn’t get into my room, could you?”
“No. I got in.” Rory turned his head so that the detectives could hear. “I went up with Terri Patton, the manager. When we got there, the door was already open and most of your things were—I’m sorry, Tabitha—they were missing.”
Tabitha’s sick stomach and throbbing head intensified. She could barely swallow. “Room two-zero-seven? Are you sure?”
Rory nodded. “The room was ransacked. Basically cleaned out.” He turned back to the detectives. “Terri’s waiting for you to take a look.”
“Sure. I think Ms. Beaumont could use a break now, anyway. You two stay here,” Greenwood instructed, as he turned for the inn. Hines followed.
“My car,” Tabitha whispered as she leaped from her seat.
The ice pack tumbled to the ground and she hopped on her good leg toward the edge of the tent. The idea of being trapped on that mountain, not able to get home, suffocated her.
“Ms. Beaumont, don’t trouble yourself. We’ll check it out,” Greenwood called after her.
Tabitha didn’t stop. She slipped past Rory’s grasp and continued until she reached the grassy area in front of the parking. If someone had taken almost everything from her room, then they could have the keys to her car. She searched through the hubbub of activity, scanning the small gravel lot.
“Is it there?” Rory’s voice sounded behind her low and stern.
She shook her head then turned to face the three men who had moved in behind her. Biting her lower lip to hold her tears at bay, she hobbled to the nearest table for support.
“A blue Toyota 4Runner. North Carolina plates.” She took in a ragged breath. Then to Hines, she gave a full description of her SUV. Afterward, she glanced across the lot again, but the car was gone. She had nothing—no money, no phone, no car. She could feel what little bit of inner strength she still possessed fading away.
Oh, Lord, why is this happening? Please give me Your strength.
As the detectives headed up the stairs to the inn, Tabitha hopped back to her table still trying desperately not to cry. Rory moved beside her but didn’t offer his help. She propped her foot up and replaced the ice pack, wishing he’d leave her alone. She felt too aware of him.
“Shouldn’t you go with them?” she asked. “Since you’re an agent and all that.” Please go, so I can think and not cry in front of you.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. His frown deepened as he took the seat beside her. His eyes, the ones that had warmed her a few minutes earlier, had turned cold.
He leaned back in the chair. With a slow deliberate move, he folded his arms across his broad chest. “So, Ms. Beaumont, it seems some pretty serious people are after you. I think you should tell me why. I mean, up until now you’ve been fairly calm, but you find out your car’s gone and you kind of lose it. Why is that? Why don’t you tell me what’s in your car that those men want so badly? After all, I have a right to know what I risked my life for this morning. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“My car? I don’t have anything in my car. I just—” Tabitha stopped midsentence. Why was she explaining herself? Just because he helped her didn’t mean she had to share her deepest fears with him. They had nothing to do with what had happened today. She took in a deep breath. “Are you interrogating me?”
Rory stretched his neck and glared at the roof of the tent. “Of course not.” His voice came out in a growl. “I don’t interrogate victims.”
“What a relief.” She attempted a smile, but it was pointless. The man had transformed into cop mode and apparently wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d probed her for answers. Too bad she had none. She chewed on her bottom lip.
Rory rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Tabitha, I know you’re frightened. More so than you’re letting on and I want to help you. Really, I do. But I can’t if you don’t tell me what you know.”
Pressing her lips together, Tabitha inhaled slowly, determined to answer him with a steady voice. “I promise you I don’t know what’s going on. I have no idea what those men are after. If I did, I would tell you. I’m just praying my way through this. Otherwise I’m sure I’d be completely hysterical by now.”
His brow lifted. “I saw Hines’s note about someone named Max. Is he involved in this?”
Tabitha frowned. She didn’t like the hint of suspicion in his tone. Did he really think she had something to hide? “Is this what you do as a federal officer? Intimidate people who are scared? I’m not impressed.”
Tears continued to press at the corner of her eyes. She lifted her hand to her forehead to scratch an imaginary itch and shield herself from his hard gaze.
“Look,” he said, “I’m trying to help. I’m not intending to upset you. This is what I do. I’m an investigator. Now, tell me about Max B. I read that name in the detective’s notes. Is that Bristow? Is that the person you booked a room for? This could be important.”
Tabitha narrowed her eyes on him. He’d obviously done more than check her room inside the hotel.
“Come on, Tabitha. Talk to me. Let me help.”
“Fine,” she mumbled. “Bristow and Max are two different people.”
“Okay. Let’s start with Max. Who is Max?”
“Max B. is Max Beaumont. My brother.” Tabitha glanced down. She did not want to repeat the entire story. But when she looked back at Rory, it was obvious that small dose of information wouldn’t hold him. “I thought the men who attacked me mentioned him. But I’m not sure. In fact, the more I think about it, the more ridiculous it seems. I think maybe I imagined it.”
Knots tightened in her stomach. Each time she mentioned her brother, she felt more and more like she might be getting him into trouble. But why? No way her brother had anything to do with those thugs on the mountain. That was impossible.
Rory’s look softened a bit. “How did they mention him?”
“I don’t know. They wanted something from me. Something Max gave me…I think that’s what they said.” Tabitha put her quivering hand to her temple. “I’m so tired. I know you’re trying to help but I already went through this with the detectives.”
“I’m sorry.” He slid a glass of water across the table. “Here, drink some water. You look pale again.”
She took a quick drink while he scratched his head and furrowed his brow. She pushed the glass back.
“Better?” he whispered.
She shrugged, noting his expression had lightened. A slight grin curved his lips upward. He reached over the table and touched her hand softly.
Tabitha gaped. How did he do that? Was it part of the interrogation technique? A method to disarm and relax her? Or did he unknowingly morph from tough cop to charmer? Either way, she didn’t like it, especially because it seemed to be working. She pulled her hand away.
“So, Max gave you something?” Rory continued.
“No. That’s just it. He didn’t.”
Rory frowned. “Okay. I know this seems silly, but it might be important. Now Max is your brother so I’m sure he gave you something at some point. How about in the past year? Anything?”
“A root canal,” she said drily, pointing at her back tooth.
“Cute.”
“You said anything. Anyway, it’s true. He’s a dentist. It was a few weeks ago and that’s the last time I saw him.”
“How about Christmas and your birthday? Don’t you exchange presents?”
Tabitha rolled her eyes. “For my birthday, he gave me a gift certificate to a spa. I used it immediately. For Christmas, an ugly sweater which I exchanged for a handbag. Max got married this year. I haven’t really seen much of him lately.”
“When was that?”
“The wedding? Two months ago.” Her mouth twitched.
“You don’t seem happy about that.”
She shrugged. “Max is happy. Karin, his wife, has been hard to get to know. Max and I were really close before. It’s an adjustment for me.”
Rory licked his lower lip and leaned his large body over his knees. “Tabitha, why did you run back to your car like that?”
A tear dropped to her cheek. Her hand moved quickly to brush it aside. “It was nothing. I just want to go home. I wanted my car to be there so I knew I could get home. I don’t like being…trapped.”
“Trapped?” Rory sat up straight in his chair and scratched his ear. “Sounds like a story there.”
“Not one for today,” she said, praying that he’d let it go.
He nodded. His mouth held a gentle smile. “You don’t need to worry. We’ll get you home.”
Tabitha wasn’t sure what he meant by we but it sounded like more help from him and that she did not want. What if he changed back to supercop? Or worse, charmed her again with those electric eyes? “You know, if I had a phone, I could call a friend to pick me up. That is, if you’re finished grilling me.”
A full smile covered his face. “I’m finished. For now.” He felt around his waistline. “I don’t have my phone, either. Here.”
Before she could say anything, he’d scooped her up in his arms and was weaving his way through the tables, heading for the inn.
“You don’t need to carry me! I’m not paraly—” She swallowed the rest of the word, aware of how close she was to his face and neck. Of the strong masculine scent which emanated there.
“Relax,” he said. “You must be the tensest person I’ve ever met.”
Oh, yeah. Relax. Sure. Her breath stuck in her throat, her senses on overload.
“Please, put me down,” she whispered.
“You can’t walk. I’m trying to help.”
I don’t want any more help. I want to go home. Tabitha thought she might burst if she didn’t get away from him. New tears flooded the corners of her eyes.
As he turned up the stairs, her head jostled back to his shoulder. “That’s it. Just relax,” he suggested, his soft breath drifting over her neck. “I’ve got you.”
And with his whisper, her tears won their battle, escaping her eyes, flowing out hard and heavy, in narrow, salty streams all the way to her chin and onto Rory’s shirt.
FOUR
The investigation took up a good part of the afternoon. Detectives Greenwood and Hines agonized over every detail before leaving. Rory appreciated their methodical ways, knowing his father would have been pleased that the department still ran tight.
In the cool air-conditioning of the Birchwood Inn, he sat on one end of a hand-carved bench that he’d pulled near Tabitha. On the other end of the bench, he’d propped her ankle. The flesh around it had turned bluish, but the swelling seemed to have gone down a bit. They sipped cold drinks and ate some of the lemon squares Terri had brought.