The Bodyguard

A deep sigh sounded through the phone. “Bring me up to speed while I dust off a suit.”

* * *

THE NURSE HELPED Caroline hobble from the bathroom to the bed. The pain in Caroline’s belly was much better than before, so she wasn’t about to complain at the sharp jolt that shot through her when the nurse helped her swing her feet up onto the bed. She drew several shallow breaths until the twinge passed, then collapsed against the pillows.

“Are you sure you’re ready for your friend to come back inside?” the nurse asked, patting Caroline’s hand and looking at her with concern. “The doctor’s visit really seemed to wear you out. If you want to rest a bit, I can make sure no one bothers you.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m okay. Please tell Leslie she can come back in now.”

“Very well. She’s in the waiting room. I’ll tell her. But if she overtires you, or if the pain gets worse, press the call button.”

“I will. Thank you.”

The nurse left. A few minutes later the tap-tap of Leslie’s heels sounded outside the room. The door opened and she burst inside, with three men following her.

Caroline clutched the sheets as Leslie and a stranger she’d never met moved to her left side, while the remaining two men—Daniel and Grant, her husband’s brothers—caged her in on the other side of the bed.

“Leslie, I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why are Daniel and Grant here?”

“Our brother is dead,” Grant sneered. “We have a right to find out what happened.”

Leslie’s lip curled with distaste. “Unfortunately, they were in the waiting room, demanding to see you. When Detective Cornell and I headed here, they followed like lapdogs.”

Grant looked as if he wanted to leap across the bed and take a swing at Leslie. Daniel’s face turned a light shade of pink, as if he was embarrassed at his brother’s behavior.

The man beside Leslie held up his hand. “Quiet, everyone. Mrs. Ashton, I’m Detective Cornell with Chatham County Metro P.D. If you’re feeling up to it, I have some questions for you.” He glanced at the others, the look on his face showing displeasure. “Your family insisted on coming in with me, but I can ask them to step outside. Or, if you prefer,” he said, his voice sounding grudging, “I can wait in the hall until you speak to them privately.”

“No.” She winced at how loud her voice sounded in the small room. “That is, I’d prefer not to have these other men here, if that’s okay.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Grant said.

“Yes. You are.” Luke Dawson’s deep voice rang out from the open doorway. He strode inside and stopped at the foot of Caroline’s bed, frowning at Cornell and Leslie before looking at the other two men. “You heard her. Out.”

Grant drew himself up, but even so, he was still an inch shorter than Luke and not nearly as broad. “Our brother was murdered,” he snapped, aiming a glare at Caroline. “And we have the right to hear what she has to say about it.”

Luke moved so fast it stole Caroline’s breath. One minute he was standing there, calmly eyeing Grant. The next minute he had Grant’s arm wedged up between his shoulder blades. Grant’s face was bright red, but he didn’t seem to be able to move.

“Let me go, you stupid rent-a-cop,” he gasped.

“I’ll let you go—outside.” Luke raised a challenging brow at Daniel, daring him to intervene.

Daniel glared at Luke before heading to the door. Luke followed, pushing Grant ahead of him. The door softly closed behind them.

Cornell pulled a plastic chair to the side of the bed and sat. “I take it you aren’t close to your brothers-in-law?”

Caroline shook her head. “No. I definitely don’t consider them...family. And I assure you, the feeling is mutual.”

The door clicked back open and Luke hurried inside, stopping at the foot of the bed again.

“Mrs. Ashton, if you don’t want me here, I’ll wait in the hallway.” He looked pointedly at the detective and Leslie. “But I thought you might want one ally in your corner, something you seem to have little of at the moment. I also strongly urge you not to say anything to Detective Cornell without a lawyer. A criminal lawyer, not a civil one.”

Leslie pursed her lips but didn’t say anything.

“Cornell isn’t here with your best interests at heart,” Luke continued. “He considers you a suspect in your husband’s murder.”

Caroline blinked at the detective. His face reddened, telling her Luke’s words were true.

“I’m not your enemy,” Cornell explained. “I simply want to know what happened. But first, I’d like to offer you my condolences on the death of your husband.”

She shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Even though she knew Richard was dead, hearing it out loud didn’t make it seem real. She kept expecting him to pounce at her from behind the curtains, or stride out of the bathroom and laugh at her for thinking she could ever escape him.

“Thank you, Detective.”

“Have you had a chance to speak to your doctor yet?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “He was here a few moments ago.”

“Then you know he suspects your husband abused you, that he’s the reason for your fractures, bruises, your ruptured spleen...your miscarriage?”

She winced and automatically moved her hand to her belly. “Yes. He told me.”

“Is it true? Did your husband beat you?”

She blanched, her face growing hot. She’d never wanted anyone else to know about her shame. Until a few days ago, no one did. No one but Leslie.

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“It’s the elephant in the room,” Cornell continued. “It can’t be avoided. You hired a bodyguard, Mr. Dawson here. Why did you hire him?”

She glanced at Luke. “I knew my husband would be angry that I’d left him. And I didn’t want to have to deal with an argument. I wanted someone who could confront him, if necessary, and save me from the ugliness.”

“Are you denying your husband hurt you?” the detective asked.

She twisted her fingers in the sheets. “I don’t—”

“Don’t say another word,” Luke said. “You need a criminal defense attorney before you speak to the police.”

Leslie patted Caroline’s hand. “The sooner she answers the questions, the sooner this will all be over and she can put it behind her. Perhaps it would be best if you waited outside, Mr. Dawson.”

“Not a chance.”

“No,” Caroline said at the same time. She pulled her hand back from Leslie’s. “I’m sorry, but I feel...better with Mr. Dawson here. Detective Cornell, all I can tell you is that I didn’t kill my husband. I don’t own a gun. I don’t even think Richard owned one. There was no need, not with a security firm watching over the house. And regardless of what Richard did or didn’t do, I never wanted him dead.”

“I agree it appears you couldn’t have killed him yourself, based on the timeline of events and the witnesses to your whereabouts. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t hire someone else to kill him.”

Her mouth fell open. “Why would I do that?”

“Your husband was quite wealthy. Maybe you figured you wouldn’t get much if you divorced him.” He cocked his head and studied her. “Was there a prenuptial agreement limiting how much you would get in a divorce?”