Bodyguard With A Badge

“What?” Panic hitched her voice.

“You’re thinking of making a run for it. I’m telling you that you won’t make it.”

She put her hand on the gun in her pocket, her heart thudding frantically. What if Andre had given his partner some kind of code word in their conversation? Something to let him know to send the cavalry? If they believed Dylan instead of her...

“I’m trying to help you here,” Andre said, his soft voice laced with frustration. “We just determined these thugs were supposed to kill you.”

She cringed, even though it wasn’t news at all. She’d known the second she’d spotted them holding her picture that Dylan had decided to kill her. That it didn’t matter those years they’d spent dating, falling in love. That it didn’t matter they’d pledged their lives to each other.

“Do you really think it’s your best move to run, alone?” Andre interrupted her angry thoughts. “We can protect you.”

“Against someone else in law enforcement?” Juliette snapped. “I’ve tried before. Who is anyone going to believe, me or another cop?”

He stared directly into her eyes, intense and sincere. “I believe you.”

She stamped down the hope she felt at his words and tried to be logical. “Why?”

“You work in this job long enough and you learn. All the training, all the practice, can only take you so far. At a certain point, you just have to go with your gut. And my gut is telling me you’re innocent.” His gaze went to the gun and then back to her face. “Relatively innocent.”

A smile twitched her lips with a sudden, ridiculous urge to laugh at the predicament she’d gotten herself into. She’d never so much as gotten a parking ticket her whole life, and in one day she’d stolen a gun off one federal agent and taken another one hostage. The truth was, they had more on her than anyone had ever gotten on her ex-husband. The smile faded.

“Just level with me, Juliette,” Andre said, his deep brown eyes imploring, almost hypnotizing in their intensity.

A shiver worked its way up her body that had nothing to do with fear and she suppressed it. Letting her attraction for this man lull her into trusting him was a bad idea. No matter whether or not he believed her story, he was still a federal agent. It was still his job to make sure she answered questions about what had happened today, and after her actions over the past hour, the FBI would probably expect her to do it in handcuffs.

Besides, she’d done the whole falling hard for a man with a badge thing before, and it hadn’t worked out too well for her then. She doubted things would go better a second time.

“I told you the truth. Okay, so I said he wanted to kidnap me, and I guess that was wishful thinking. I suppose I knew it. Dylan wants me dead. I’ve been running for years, and now he’s found me. And you can believe if he—or one of his hired goons—catches up to me again, he won’t make the same mistake.”

“You saw something you shouldn’t have seen,” he repeated her words from earlier. “What was it?”

Juliette heaved out a sigh. “Not enough.”

“What does that mean?”

She’d come this far. The man had brought her to his house. He was the first person in years she’d dared to tell even this much. Might as well go for broke.

“My ex was a cop—is a cop. I actually met him when he pulled me over for a broken taillight. He let me go with a warning, but when I ran into him a few weeks later at a club, he asked me out.”

At the time, she’d thought it was some kind of fate, telling her to give Dylan a chance. Later, she’d learned that he’d run her plates, gotten her name and pulled her up on social media. Someone had tagged her at that club, and he’d gone there, specifically intending to bump into her. When he’d finally told her the truth on their honeymoon, she’d been flattered. Now she wondered if it had been a warning sign she’d been too infatuated to see.

“What’s his name?” Andre asked tightly.

“Dylan. Dylan Keane.”

“From Pennsylvania?”

“That’s right. But if you’re planning to dig up his file, don’t bother. He’s got a perfect record at the department. He actually got a commendation from the mayor right after we were married. No one will ever believe he’s dirty.”

“That’s what this is about?” Andre pressed. “That’s what you saw? Something to do with his work?”

“Yeah. Have you ever heard of Kent Manning?”

Andre’s eyes narrowed and his head tilted back, as though he was trying to remember where he’d heard the name.

“The businessman who was killed,” she prompted.

“That’s right. He was a multimillionaire, if I’m remembering correctly. They found him tossed in the lake in some small town in...”

She could tell the instant he realized. “Right. A small town in Pennsylvania. My small town in Pennsylvania.”

“But they caught the guy who killed him. He’s serving a life sentence, isn’t he?”

“He is. Chester Loews was Manning’s direct competitor. With Manning out of the picture, Loews’s company was poised to become the biggest logging supplier in the state.”

“All right. That’s a logical motive for murder. What does all of this have to do with your husband?”

“Ex-husband.”

“Sorry.” Andre gave her a half smile that made a dimple pop in his left cheek. “Believe me, I didn’t forget that part.”

Juliette swallowed, her mouth dry, and wondered what the heck that meant. Was it because he was interested in her?

Get it together, she reminded herself. “Anyway,” she continued, hoping she wasn’t flushed beet red, “what I overheard was my husband meeting with Boyd Harkin. He was Manning’s second-in-command, and when Manning was murdered, Harkin took over the company. He was originally a suspect, too, but the evidence against Loews was so overwhelming, it was a slam dunk. Case closed.”

“But you think Harkin actually killed Manning?” Andre guessed. “You think Loews was framed?”

“I think they were working together and only Loews got caught.”

Andre frowned. “If that’s the case, then why wouldn’t Loews turn on Harkin? Share the prison sentence?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay.” He was clearly trying hard to be patient. “Why do you think they were working together?”

“My ex-husband and his partner were working the Manning murder case, and I saw Harkin hand my ex-husband a bag.” She’d come home early, unexpected, from her studio because she’d been sick. Harkin had been standing in her kitchen, a big hulk of a man who looked unnatural in a business suit. He’d handed over a brown paper bag, as though he was playing a part in a movie. “Dylan told Harkin he’d keep him out of it, but there was nothing he could do for Loews now.”

“Those were his exact words?” Andre asked.

“Yeah. I thought Dylan was getting the bag to make sure any evidence against Harkin found during the murder investigation would disappear.”

From the way Andre was nodding, he agreed. “And you think that bag contained a payoff?”

“I know it did. I found it later, stashed up in our closet. Dylan thought I didn’t know he hid things there, but I’d seen him do it before.”

“You’d seen him take money before?”

“No.” She gave a sad smile, because not all of her memories of Dylan were bad. She’d loved him once, enough to marry him. “Presents he’d bought me.”