Against the Wall Page 3

  He took her car key. “We’ll talk about going to the office after I take you home for a break.”

  Chapter Two

  Jana couldn’t quite believe she’d relinquished control to Mr. Parker. He’d nudged her into the passenger seat of her own car and then, rather than take her to the capitol building as she’d requested, he’d driven to her house. He’d insisted she take a minute and clean up. When she’d caught her reflection in the hall mirror, she could only be grateful for his discretion.

  Miraculously no one had been critically injured, but the drive-by shooting left her more than rattled. Her face smudged with dirt, her hair falling in wisps and chunks from the chignon at her nape, pants torn and palms scraped, she looked a mess. Showing up at the office like this would give the media gossips fodder for months, shattering the polished image she’d worked long and hard to cultivate. Though she wasn’t quite thirty, she was old enough to serve out her dad’s senate term. While doing so would accelerate her plans for a political career, she wouldn’t turn down the appointment, if offered. Her dad would want her to finish all he’d started.

  Had Mr. Parker recognized that showing up in disarray would give her future opponents ammunition and an example of her bad judgment? She should have thought of that, but she was too confused and overwhelmed. Though the images of her helping injured victims on the news were surely positive, the event would have the reporters nipping even more closely at her heels. Until she had proven her dad was murdered, she preferred to stay as far from the limelight as possible. There were too many rumors floating around as it was.

  The shooting had transpired in a matter of moments and she hadn’t seen much beyond Mr. Parker’s broad chest as he’d stepped between her and the gunfire. The police probably couldn’t do much with her statement, but she’d had to try. Now, relaxing on her comfy sofa in her favorite yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt, she sipped the cup of tea her bodyguard had encouraged—ordered, actually—her to make. The concept that the shooting had been a professional hit kept creeping into her other whirling thoughts. Surely he’d been wrong. Why would anyone want to kill her?

  Maybe the same person who murdered her dad...

  “How’re you feeling?” he asked, settling into the club chair across from her. He looked out of place in her front room surrounded by the subtle feminine décor.

  “Fine,” she lied. If she let go of the cup, her hands would start trembling again. Was she next on someone’s hit list? “Thank you, Mr. Parker.”

  “Dylan,” he reminded her. “We need to start acting like we’re old friends or we’ll blow my cover.”

  Focus, Jana. He was right. “Okay.”

  Sitting here thinking of the answers she’d have to provide for the inevitable questions about the shooting exhausted her. Her colleagues, as well as the public, would need answers. Maybe she wasn’t as strong as she wanted to believe. Her dad had been so strong, so vital and steady through every crisis and she clearly wasn’t. Her heart still raced. Sitting in the one room in her house where work and worry wasn’t allowed, she couldn’t relax. Mr. Parker—Dylan watching her so intently wasn’t helping.

  “If you have other things to do,” she suggested, “I’ll be fine now. I can meet you at the office in an hour.”

  “I will need to pick up my truck, but I’m not about to leave you alone.”

  That was ridiculous. “It’s a gated community and I have a security system.” She stared at his serious face as he did something with his phone. “I’m sure we were just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she added, more to herself than to him.

  “You hired an expert,” he said, tapping his chest. “Trust the expert.” He came over to sit beside her on the couch. “Here are the pics I took right after the drive-by. Take your time and scroll through.” He held out his phone. “Let me know if anyone looks familiar.”

  She set aside her cup of tea and fisted her hands, reluctant to allow them to quake like those of a frightened child in front of the expert. Taking the phone, she studied each picture, reliving the gunfire and noise all over again as she saw the shock and fear stamped on every face caught in each frame. The man she’d thought had been following her wasn’t in any of the pictures. She couldn’t recall seeing him after her meeting with Dylan started.

  “I don’t recognize anyone.”

  “You said you thought someone had been following you.”

  “Maybe he’s a reporter.” She shrugged. “Either way, he’s not in these pictures.” The idea sounded paranoid even to her.

  Dylan set the phone on the coffee table. “Were you and your dad working on something in particular that you believe prompted hard feelings toward him or toward you?”

  The question shouldn’t have startled her. Her dad was dead and she was convinced he was murdered. Yet, somehow it did. “This time of year it’s mostly committee work, charity events, and a bit of lobbying and maneuvering in anticipation of the next session.”

  “All right. Let’s try another avenue. With your dad dead, who might want you out of the way for personal reasons or political ones?”

  She shook her head. The idea was ridiculous. “I don’t have enemies, period. My dad was the one with the power. I have people with differing opinions on issues, but no actual enemies.” Had her dad really had enemies willing to stoop to murder to get what they wanted?

  Make up your mind, Jana. He was either murdered or...

  “Staging a suicide in a man’s own home is personal and dicey,” Dylan pointed out. “If your dad was murdered there must be one hell of a motive for the killer to take a risk like that.”

  Her stomach roiled. Hiring an investigator was supposed to make this easier, instead she found herself tumbling deeper into confusion and uncertainty. If her dad committed suicide, then she’d failed him by ignoring a cry for help. Impossible. If he was murdered, it was by someone close enough to get into the study, which made her naïve and gullible for trusting anyone.

  Except Theo. A smile tugged at her lips. How long had it been since she’d seen him? Five or six years? He’d retired and moved to the Florida Keys. He traveled all the time. Theo jokingly said he lived in Paradise yet he was perpetually vacationing elsewhere. Typically some place exotic, Jana mused. The man was in Fiji right now.

  “Jana?”

  The sound of her bodyguard’s voice startled her back to the present. She shivered. “Sorry. I was thinking.” Did any of what was happening make her a potential victim? Was an enemy of her dad, by extension, an enemy of hers? “I just don’t know.” She let go a big breath. “I’m sorry. I can’t seem to think straight. The only thing I’m certain of is that my dad would not have killed himself.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” he promised. “One step at a time. Right now we need to pick up my truck.” He braced his hands on his knees and pushed to his feet. “Let’s go.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she protested, feeling tears clogging her throat again. Maybe he’d been right when he suggested she needed some time. “My home is perfectly safe.” She stared out the window, praying for nightfall when she could stand outside in the dark and pretend she was anyone but Jana Clayton. As strange as it sounded, since she was a teenager she had found the anonymity of darkness healing somehow. She’d never told another soul—except Theo. He’d understood exactly what she meant.

  “You mean like your dad’s study? I’m certain he felt completely safe there.”

  That deep voice jerked her back to reality again. Her lips trembled in spite of her best efforts. Damn him.

  “Staying here alone isn’t an option,” he said before she could summon a protest.

  “Mr. Parker,” she began, but he cut her off with a pointed look. “Dylan.” She sighed. “What if I call a friend to wait with me?”

  He settled his hat into place and ran his hands over the brim. “Would this be an armed friend with experience in personal security?”

  She sighed again. “No.”

  He shook his head slowly
from side to side. “The sooner we go, the sooner you’re home again. I’m not taking any unnecessary chances with your safety. I’ve already ordered a cab. It should be here shortly.”

  She recognized the determination in the hard set of his jaw and the glint in his eyes. Arguing with him was a waste of time. Her home phone rang, interrupting the tense moment. She glanced at the caller ID and groaned. Her dad’s chief of staff, Samuel Maguire. He must have seen the breaking news report and she wasn’t ready to talk about the shooting with anyone else just now. Her cell phone rang next. She ignored that, too. Sam would leave a message or call her back later if it was important.

  “Someone you don’t want to talk to?” the man watching her so closely asked.

  “Not at the moment.” Choosing not to explain, she slipped on tennis shoes for the mandatory field trip to get his truck.

  Her arms and legs ached. How could she be so sore from merely falling to the ground? As she picked up her purse, reaching inside for her house keys, the supple leather shifted revealing a small hole. She stared at it, a new kind of shock settling over her. Was that a... bullet hole? “I guess they got closer than I realized.” Her hands trembling she showed the hole to Dylan.

  “Let me have a closer look.”

  Damn it, she liked this purse. She carefully removed each item inside and placed it on the coffee table. She grimaced at the sight of a bullet burrowed into her grandmother’s antique silver compact. Her stomach roiled. “Should we call the police?”

  “It’s probably useless for prints,” Dylan said, “but I’ll take care of it. Do you have a plastic baggie?”

  “Sure.” She went to the kitchen and brought one back. He took a picture of the offensive slug with his phone, and then used the baggie to seal away both her compact and the bullet.

  For a long time she just stared at the contents of the baggie, allowing the reality to sink in. Someone had nearly shot her today. She had wanted to believe it was random, but what if Dylan hadn’t been there?

  “Cab’s here,” he said gently as if he realized where her thoughts had gone.

  She grabbed her phone and her wallet, leaving the rest of the mess on the coffee table for later. They didn’t speak in the cab or in the truck on the drive back to her house. She was more than a little grateful that he chose the radio over conversation. Her head was spinning. She had been certain her dad would never commit suicide and now she had evidence... sort of. She should be thankful, but mostly she felt unsteady.

  When they arrived back at her home, he walked her inside and ordered her to wait in the foyer while he searched the house. She’d activated the security system. He’d watched her disarm it when they came inside. Impatience tugged at her, but she was too drained to argue.

  When he finished searching her home, he hesitated at the front door and asked, “You’ll be okay tonight?”

  She nodded when what she really wanted to do was shake her head. She wasn’t so sure she would ever be okay again. “Where are you staying?” The question couldn’t have sounded any more needy.

  His lips twitched at one corner as if he recognized exactly how she felt. “I’ll be on duty outside. You have my number if there’s trouble. I entered it into your cell. What time do you want to get started in the morning? I’ll be doing the driving.”

  Outside? She could just imagine the complaints from her neighbors if they noticed a stranger loitering about the street. Her hope for a few minutes of peace in the darkness evaporated. “I can drive myself to the office. I’m usually there before nine,” she said. She’d been doing so for years. “Don’t you have a hotel?”

  “Stand down, Jana, and let me do the job you hired me to do.”

  She didn’t like the way he kept her off balance, unyielding one minute, and marginally considerate the next. “I like my alone time.” Her private time was scarce. She didn’t like giving up what little she managed.

  “Do you have everything you need for tonight?”

  Not only had he ignored her protests, he hadn’t answered her question about his accommodations. “Yes. Yes, I have everything I need.”

  “Good. We’ll start fresh in the morning.”

  He made it sound so reasonable, but she suddenly didn’t know what to do with the rest of the night. No, that wasn’t true. She abruptly felt alone... and afraid. He was out the door before she could summon an intelligent response. She locked the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment. On a normal evening there would be briefs to read, news reports to review, possibly dinner or drinks with colleagues or friends. The thought of tackling just one of those items brought her to the brink of tears. Work had never made her weepy.

  Reluctantly admitting Dylan might have a point, she turned off her cell phone and headed to her bedroom. She played back those brief seconds on the sidewalk again and again. He’d reacted, pushing her down before the first bullets had ripped through the air. She dropped her head into her hands, fingertips digging into her scalp. She thought of her dad’s letter and the line about trusting her intuition. At first, she hadn’t been so sure about Dylan Parker. Maybe she still wasn’t so comfortable with the man, but she had to give credit where it was due.

  He had saved her life.

  After she’d washed her face and brushed her teeth, she added an extra layer of cream under her eyes. Feeling chilled from head to toe, she pulled on some thick socks and slipped under the covers, not bothering to change out of her clothes.

  Closing her eyes, she willed herself to stay calm and to stay put until morning.

  Backup was here... even if the handsome cowboy wasn’t at all what she’d expected.

  Theo had assured her the Guardian Agency was the very best and she trusted Theo. Memories of all those lessons by the great Theodore Kingston in how to be the perfect Miss Texas followed her to sleep.

  Grateful for the darkness, Dylan climbed into his truck and closed the door. It was early, barely eight-thirty. He hoped Jana would get some rest. She was of little use to the investigation if she couldn’t think straight much less keep her emotions in check. He had gone through the loss of a parent and didn’t want to belittle her grief, but he needed her focused. To be fair, she had been the target of a professional hit. Most anyone would be a little rattled.

  He dragged his cell phone from his pocket and sent an update to Claudia. Claudia was his only connection to the Guardian Agency. Whatever he needed Claudia made it happen. He wondered what she would say if he told her he needed out of this assignment. Hell, he wasn’t a quitter, but Jana Clayton needed things he couldn’t give her—like a shoulder to cry on and arms to hold her. He’d barely resisted taking her into his arms after the drive-by. He never did that! Never let a female client make him feel the need to hold her unless it was to protect her from danger.

  What was it about the woman that made him want to reach out to her? She was a couple of years younger than him, his sister’s age. She was strong, like his sister and his mother. Parker women were a sturdy lot. Maybe that was the draw. Jana Clayton was strong, determined, and smart. It didn’t hurt that she was sexy as hell. He now knew far too well every subtle curve of her body.

  Dylan gave himself a mental kick. How the hell had he allowed that to happen so damned fast? He dropped his cell on the seat and eased into a more comfortable position. Funny thing was he typically preferred the sweet, come-rescue-me type.

  “And just look where that got you, Parker.”

  Relieved from duty. Arrested. And with an empty bank account. He’d lost everything because he’d rescued the wrong woman. He’d been so damned sure he was in love. Lust had been more like it. Along with that rescue-me attitude, his ex had been gorgeous. Maybe he’d held that against Jana from the moment he read her file. After all, she had won a damned bunch of those beauty pageants—Miss Texas, for Pete’s sake. Truth was, she wasn’t what he’d expected at all.

  She was classy and smart... and beautiful.

  But he wasn’t interested in her as a person.
He was here for the job. To protect her. To determine if her dad had been murdered.

  He thought of his sister and his mother, two women he loved and respected. If either of them needed help that he for some reason couldn’t provide, he would want the person who came to their rescue to do it right.

  Whether her dad had committed suicide or had been murdered... whether the drive-by was just someone trying to scare her away from the murder scenario or trying to kill her, Jana Clayton deserved for him to do this right.

  Thursday, November 15

  “Jana?”

  The deep voice woke her with a start. “Dylan!” She looked to the clock, saw she’d overslept and hopped out of bed. “What are you doing in my house?”

  “You didn’t answer your phone.”

  What? Oh, wait. “I turned it off.” Her heart hammered against her ribs. She needed to get her bearings. “How did you get in here?” She should’ve heard something. She pushed at her hair, glancing at the security system panel by her bedroom door. It was oddly silent.

  “Through the garage. You didn’t set your alarm.”

  She always set her alarm. Searching her memory of last night, she straightened her twisted t-shirt. So maybe she did forget. She cleared her throat, uncertain of the protocol for this situation. Were all bodyguards this bold? He was in her bedroom, looking ready for the day in an oxford shirt and jeans.

  “You can’t be in here.” She tried unsuccessfully to push her hair out of her face.

  “Coming in was necessary to confirm you weren’t injured,” he said, a hot lick of impatience in his voice.

  Nothing was injured except her pride. “You can wait in the kitchen while I dress.”

  “Do you want me to start breakfast?”

  Was he serious? “No! I mean, you shouldn’t go to any trouble,” she added with more control. She couldn’t eat now if she wanted to. Embarrassment was giving way to irritation over what felt like his increasing violations of her privacy. She didn’t like this arrangement. “Give me fifteen minutes.”