She shivered and the little girl snuggled a little closer to her. Her long black lashes fluttered as her eyelids began to droop. She murmured to her father, “I’m sorry, Daddy…”
He touched his daughter’s cheek, which was uncomfortably close to Wendy’s breast. She tensed and drew in a shaky breath. But he didn’t touch her. He was focused only on his daughter.
“Why are you sorry, baby?” he asked. The love Wendy had seen in his eyes was in his voice now.
“For you, Daddy,” she murmured sleepily. “You’ve lost a lot of people you love.”
Her mother? Had he loved and lost her?
Not that Wendy cared. She didn’t care about anything but keeping her family safe. But she didn’t want Hart’s family to be in danger, either. She tightened her arm around the little girl and leaned close enough that her chin brushed the soft blond hair, asking him, “So is this Bring Your Daughter to Work day?”
His face flushed with a bit of color. “A babysitter should be showing up soon.”
“It’s a weeknight,” she said.
He nodded. “Yes, and she’s just turned four. She’s not in school yet.”
“But why do you have her now?” she asked.
His brow furrowed for a moment then cleared. “You think I’m just a weekend father?” He shook his head. “I have full custody.”
While she had no personal experience with it, Wendy had several divorced friends and acquaintances, especially since law enforcement was so hard on relationships.
The long hours officers worked…
The things they saw…
They all took their toll.
And usually because of those long hours, they weren’t granted much more than weekend visitations. But maybe that was why Hart had resigned from the police department. For his daughter…
Then why had he taken another dangerous job with long hours?
She wasn’t going to be responsible for taking him away from his child. Over the little girl’s head, she met Hart’s gaze and told him, “You can’t be my bodyguard.”
“I don’t want to be your bodyguard,” Hart admitted. He hadn’t been certain if his coworkers had been telling the truth or just teasing him about that crush, but he hadn’t wanted to take the chance that it was the truth and Wendy got her feelings hurt.
And she would get hurt if she made the mistake of falling for him. His ability to trust and love were gone.
Long gone…
He had nothing left to give anyone but Felicity.
Wendy expelled a shaky breath that stirred Felicity’s hair. But the little girl didn’t move. She’d fallen fast asleep in the arms of a stranger.
Hart couldn’t believe how his daughter had taken to Wendy Thompson. Felicity was always so shy, but never more so than around women. Her mother hadn’t ever been very patient with her. Monica never would have allowed Felicity to touch her hair. She would have been afraid the child would mess it up or make it sticky.
But Wendy hadn’t cared. As if she’d sensed the child’s fear, she had smiled reassuringly at her. And Hart had felt a strange twinge in his chest—one that he felt again just staring at the two of them.
“Good,” she said. “Tell Parker that you can’t.”
“Already did,” he informed her. “But he refused. Said he had no one else to give the assignment to.” All the other team members had already been assigned someone to protect. Hart suspected Parker, like everyone else in the RCPD, had heard the rumors about Wendy’s crush. Now that crush could be used to explain his presence in her life; they could claim he was her boyfriend—just as she had already told her father.
She shook her head. “I don’t need a bodyguard,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Didn’t you hear what the assistant DA said?” he asked. Frustration with her stubbornness had him raising his voice. But when Felicity stirred against her, he lowered it when he continued. “For Luther to get off, the eyewitness isn’t the only one he needs to take out.”
Wendy tightened her arm around his daughter and lowered her voice to a whisper. “He doesn’t need to take me out. Just the evidence.”
Hart nodded. “That’s true. I’m sure he could get to anyone else in your department to get it thrown out.” He would either pay them or threaten them.
Neither of those options would work on someone like Wendy, though. On someone so stubborn.
Her face flushed with indignation, turning nearly as red as her hair. “He can’t get to anyone else in my department,” she protested. “He does not have an evidence tech on his payroll.”
Hart snorted at her naivete. “Then how have all his previous cases got thrown out?” Luther damn well did have someone working for him. Hell, he had a lot of someones working for him.
So nobody could be trusted.
“I don’t know about the evidence in his previous cases,” Wendy said, “but I know nobody’s getting to this evidence but me.”
He narrowed his eyes as he studied her face. “You’ve hidden it somewhere?”
“That prior evidence disappeared from the evidence room,” she said.
“So this evidence is not there?” he asked.
She shook her head. “It’s somewhere safe that won’t compromise the chain of evidence.”
Maybe she wasn’t as naive as he’d thought. “Obviously you don’t trust your coworkers as much as you claim you do.”
“If anyone else knew where it was, they would be threatened, too,” she said, “and I don’t want to put anybody else in danger.”
Now he understood why she’d said what she had. “That’s why you don’t want me as your bodyguard. You don’t want me in danger.”
Her face reddened even more. “Don’t think it’s because of some nonexistent crush I supposedly have on you,” she said, sputtering. She lowered her green-eyed gaze from his and stared down at his daughter. “It’s because of her.”
That twinge struck Hart’s chest again.
“She needs you,” Wendy said. “I don’t.”
He flinched. But he couldn’t argue with her about Felicity. His daughter did need him. She really had no one else. Not now. Not since Hart’s mother had passed away a couple of years ago. She had been the only maternal figure his little girl had ever known when her own mother had failed to ever show any interest in her. After she’d had her, Monica had admitted to only getting pregnant so Hart wouldn’t divorce her. Abandoned as a child, she’d been determined that nobody else leave her; she was always the one who left. Unfortunately, she hadn’t left just him but their daughter, as well.
“Felicity’s not going to lose me,” Hart said. He hoped his daughter knew that. “I’m not leaving her. I’m just doing my job. And I’m damn good at my job.” He’d been a good vice cop and then a detective, so being a bodyguard had come very naturally to him. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.”
But he wondered if he was really telling the truth. He wasn’t worried about being physically hurt, though. He was worried about becoming too entangled with Wendy Thompson—like he had in her bed when he’d first sneaked through her window and had tried to keep her quiet. He was also worried about Wendy Thompson becoming too entangled with him and his daughter.
No. Felicity couldn’t lose anyone else. So his little girl could not get attached to Wendy—because Hart was only going to pretend to be the evidence tech’s boyfriend. He had no intention of ever being involved with anyone ever again.
All that type of involvement led to was betrayal and emotional pain. And that was the kind of pain he wasn’t going to risk experiencing ever again. He’d much rather risk his life than his heart.
Even though he was in jail, there was no escaping Luther Mills. Once he got hold of someone, he didn’t let go and he didn’t let up. One could not say no to Luther—not and live.
Wendy Thompson was so young and naive that she had not yet realized that.
But she would. Soon.
The person crawled under the vehicle parked in the driveway of Thompson’s parents’ house. Hands, in leather gloves, located the brake line. Then a knife cut neatly through the line, spilling fluid onto the asphalt.
By morning all the fluid would have leaked out. Maybe then Wendy would finally get the message all those threats had tried to deliver to her.
The evidence needed to disappear or, just as the messages had warned, everything and everyone Wendy Thompson held dear would disappear instead.
Chapter 4
Her heart pounding fast and hard, Wendy closed the front door of her parents’ house behind her. She leaned back against the solid wood for a moment to catch a breath of fresh air. She felt as if she’d just run the gauntlet, trying to escape the shots fired at her. Those shots hadn’t been bullets, though—just questions her parents had asked her this morning.
They had had so many of them.
“How long have you and Hart been dating?”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“How serious are you?”
“What was so important that he had to see you in the middle of the night?”
Their lives. That was what was so important. In addition to the police car stationed in the area, the Payne Protection Agency had assigned bodyguards to them, as well. But they would not see the bodyguards.
Wendy couldn’t see them, either, when she looked around the house and street as she walked to the car parked on the driveway. Where were they?
The bodyguards weren’t from Parker’s team but one of his brother’s. She’d asked if one of them could protect her instead of Hart. But just as Hart had warned her, Parker had refused to assign her a different bodyguard. And Chief Lynch had backed him up.
Of course everyone thought Hart should protect her. They’d known about her crush on him and, because of that, they’d believed everyone would buy that he was her boyfriend. Heat rushed to her face with humiliation that her attraction to the former detective was such common knowledge. But Hart had never showed any interest in her. That had to be common knowledge, as well.
So would anyone actually believe that he was her boyfriend? That he’d suddenly noticed her now—when he hadn’t noticed her all the years they’d worked together even after his divorce?
Her parents had been suspicious. Or they wouldn’t have fired so many questions at her.
Those questions had been hard to dodge because lying to her parents had never been easy. But in this case, it had been necessary. She didn’t want to worry them.
Like she was worried.
They would be safe, with the police watching them, with Payne Protection bodyguards watching them.
Luther wouldn’t be able to get to them now—not with so many people protecting them. But if the threats continued, she would tell them; she would urge them to leave town for their safety and hers. She would be more careful herself if she didn’t have to worry about them, as well.
She clicked the fob to unlock the car, but before she could pull open the driver’s door, a deep voice murmured, “Good morning.”
She jumped even though she instantly recognized that voice. When she turned to face him, Hart Fisher was very close. So close that their bodies brushed against each other.
Her pulse quickened with excitement, not fear, with the attraction she felt for him—that she had always felt for him. But she didn’t want him to know that she had really had a crush on him. She already felt foolish enough about it.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asked as she glanced nervously around.
The curtains swished at the front window of her parents’ house. Someone was watching them.
“I’m trying to do my damn job,” Hart said through gritted teeth as he very obviously faked a grin.
When he’d dropped her off last night, she had refused to let him inside the house. From the dark circles beneath his eyes, he must not have slept at all. Too bad his daughter’s babysitter had arrived at the agency before they’d left. He wouldn’t have been able to take Wendy home if he’d had to take care of Felicity.
But even though his babysitter had shown up, the little girl still needed her father—especially since he had full custody. Where was her mother?
“You need a safer job,” she told him.
“I’m fine,” he said, but his voice lowered even more to a growl of frustration. “It’s my assignment that’s a pain in the ass.”
She smiled—just as artificially as he had. “Then you need another assignment.”
He shook his head. “This is the one I have,” he said. “So I’m going to make the best of it.”
Then he did something she hadn’t expected. He lowered his head until his mouth brushed across hers.
Her pulse began to race and she gasped.
He kissed her again, lingering this time—his lips clinging to hers before he deepened the kiss even more. When he finally lifted his head, she gasped again—this time for breath.
“What the hell was that?” she asked.
He arched his head toward the front window of the house. “For our audience.”
“You’re overacting,” she said because she had to remind herself that was all he was doing. Acting…
He wasn’t really her boyfriend. He wasn’t really attracted to her. He was only pretending.
Yet the kiss had felt real to her, so real that desire coursed through her. She wanted him. But he only wanted to do his job.
She had a job of her own to do, though. “You’re going to make me late,” she said. “I need to get to work.”
“Then get in my SUV,” he said. “And I will take you to work.”
She shook her head. “I need to have my own vehicle.” But her vehicle was actually in a service shop right now. Since her mother hadn’t been cleared to drive yet with her new right knee, Wendy was using her mom’s car.
With obvious skepticism, Hart narrowed his eyes. “If you have to go out to a crime scene, you use the department van to collect evidence,” he said.
“Yes, and you can’t go with me if I’m called to a crime scene,” she said.
He lifted his broad shoulders. “I can’t ride in the van,” he said. “But I have every intention of following you.”
“You’re not going to look like my boyfriend. You’re going to look like a stalker,” she said.
He grinned and leaned closer. So close that his lips brushed lightly across hers again. “Or like a man in love…who suspects a killer might be threatening his girlfriend.”
Her heart skipped a beat until he shuddered as if the idea repulsed him. The idea of being her boyfriend? Or of a killer being after her?
While she curved her lips into a smile, she glared at him and pushed him back so she could pull open the driver’s door. “Since you apparently intend to follow me to crime scenes, you can follow me to the station,” she said. “Because I’m driving myself there.”
Before he could reach for her again, she slid into the seat and jammed the key into the ignition. He cursed, or started to, but she turned the key and the engine drowned him out. He stepped back as she reversed the car into the street.
She shifted into Drive and pressed hard on the accelerator. Since he wasn’t going to make it easy for her to do her job, she wasn’t going to make it easy for him to do his. She intended to be long gone before he could even get to his SUV.
But speeding in a residential area wasn’t smart. So she reached for the brake pedal, pressing lightly on it. But the car didn’t slow. At all…
She pressed harder until the pedal went all the way to the floor. Nothing happened.
The car would not stop. The brakes had gone out. And since her father almost fanatically maintained his vehicles, Wendy knew they hadn’t gone out on their own. Someone had cut the brake line.
She could not stop.
Hart shook his head, disgusted with himself that he’d just let her drive off. But with her parents watching, there was little more he could have done to stop her, especially since he knew her father was armed. Even now he had to force himself not to run to his SUV. He had to keep the smile on his face until he turned away from the house. But then he glanced down at the driveway and his heart slammed against his ribs as he noticed fluid pooled on the asphalt where her car had been parked.
He didn’t have to dip his finger in it to know where the fluid had come from. Her brake line.
He could hear the squeal of tires against asphalt.
A horn blew.
He knew she was already unable to stop.
He ran, jumping into his SUV. His hand shook as he turned the key, fired the engine to life and roared out of the driveway after her.
But she already had quite a head start on him. And she couldn’t slow down.
Fortunately, it was so early that there wasn’t much traffic yet, and the SUV had a bigger engine than her little sedan. He was able to speed enough that he caught up with her.
Despite not having brakes, she managed to steer around a corner. The street onto which she’d turned had fewer houses. But it went downhill, so she was gaining speed.
And she had no way to stop.
Hart would have to stop her before the car went even faster. Or she would die for certain.
He pressed harder on his accelerator and crossed over the center line so that he was next to her. She glanced out her window at him. Her eyes were wide with fear, her face so pale that her freckles stood out even more than usual.
She gripped the wheel tightly.
He gestured at the gearshift. If she could get the vehicle into Neutral…
He clicked the power button to lower his passenger-side window.
She lowered her window. “I have no brakes!” she yelled.
“Neutral,” he yelled back at her.
But the loud blare of a horn might have drowned out his command. Just a short distance ahead of them, a semitruck had backed out of a driveway and was blocking the street. If she hit it head-on, she was certain to die.
So he jerked his wheel and smashed into the side of her car. Metal ground against metal, screeching as it scraped together.
Maybe it wasn’t just the screeching metal he heard. Maybe it was Wendy screaming because her mouth was open as she stared at him in shock.
He’d had no choice, though. He had to get her off the road and out of the path of that truck. He wrenched the wheel even harder, crunching the side of her car as he pushed it off the road.
Her tires hit the curb before the car jumped the sidewalk. He breathed a sigh of relief that she was off the street, until he saw where she was heading—straight toward a tree.
A massive oak with a trunk wider than her little car. He swerved over the curb, too, trying to get between her and the tree. But he was too late.
Her car struck the trunk of the oak, wrapping itself around it. Another horn blared—this one was hers as her body slumped against the airbag that had exploded from her steering wheel.
Had he saved her?
Or killed her?
“What the hell did you say?” Parker exclaimed. Then he pulled his cell phone away from his ear and stared at it.
He could not have heard his sister correctly. Nikki was one of the guards he’d posted outside Wendy Thompson’s parents’ house; he’d borrowed her from his brother Cooper’s team. Maybe their cell connection was faulty.
“What happened?” he asked, seeking clarification.
“I don’t know,” Nikki replied. “First they were kissing…”
Parker groaned. “No…”
Hart was only supposed to pretend to be her boyfriend. They weren’t supposed to really become involved. Of all his bodyguards, Parker had thought Hart, who’d barely survived his short marriage, was immune to the temptation of mixing pleasure with business.
Sure, he was aware that Wendy Thompson had had a crush on Hart when he’d worked for River City PD, and while that was useful for their cover, Parker had never expected either of them to actually act on it.
“The kissing might have been for her parents’ benefit,” Nikki speculated. “They were not very discreetly watching them through the front window.”
His heart thudded heavily with dread. “So did they see what you just told me happened?” He was still hoping that he’d misunderstood. That she couldn’t have said what she had…
But then Nikki repeated it. “Him running her off the road?”
Parker groaned again. So he had heard his sister correctly the first time.
“They couldn’t have seen it,” Nikki said. “It happened a couple of miles from their house. Lars is still sitting on their place and the Thompsons haven’t made any attempt to leave. They must have not even heard the crash.”
Crash. Parker flinched.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “How did they get from kissing to separate vehicles and…?”
What? A road rage incident?
“After the kissing, she jumped in her car and took off,” Nikki told him.
To do what? Report Hart to him or to the chief? This was bad. Very bad.
“It didn’t take long to figure out, from the way she was driving, that her brakes must have gone out,” Nikki said. “Hart was right there. I think he tried to force her off the road so she wouldn’t hit the truck. But…”
“But what?” Parker asked.
“She hit a tree instead.”
Parker shot up from his desk and cursed. “Oh, my God. Is she okay?”
“I don’t know,” Nikki said. “I radioed Hart and he claims he’s got it handled.” But she obviously doubted his abilities. She didn’t know Hart Fisher like Parker did, though.
“If Hart says he’s got it handled, he does.” Parker wasn’t sure if he backed his friend out of loyalty, though, or because he actually believed what he was saying. Hart Fisher had been a good cop—so good that he’d made detective right before he’d quit the force.
Since Parker had hired him, he’d proved to be a damn good bodyguard, too.
Until today.
Today, instead of protecting his principal, he might have put her in more danger.
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