Her Bodyguard

Behind her, he spoke. “Don’t be so sure about that, Ange.”

She stalked away, praying he wasn’t watching her. The idea of him checking out her butt was horribly embarrassing. After a dozen steps or so, she stopped and glanced back over her shoulder.

He was nowhere in sight.

Irritated with herself for looking back, she whirled—and ran into someone else.

“Hey, Angie. Careful.”

“Oh, no,” she muttered. Not Doug, too. She’d thought she’d finally convinced him she wasn’t interested in dating him. Apparently this was destined to be her week from hell. Exams, intruders, high school flames and creepy ex-boyfriends. What else could happen?

Doug’s arm snaked around her shoulders. “Steady. Are you okay?”

She pulled away from him as smoothly as she could, not quite able to suppress a shudder. “I’m fine, Doug. What are you doing here?”

“I had a delivery to make in this neighborhood, so I thought I’d run upstairs and see if you were okay. I’ve been worried. You haven’t answered your phone in the last several days.”

Angela cringed inwardly. No, she hadn’t, on purpose.

“I’m glad you’re okay. You’re certainly looking good.”

“Thanks. I’m kind of in a hurry.”

“Who was that guy you were talking to?” Doug’s words were casual, but his pale blue eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her.

“An old friend from high school.” She started to walk away but he caught her arm.

“Have dinner with me. I miss you.”

She stepped away, tugging her arm away from his grasp. “I’m sorry, Doug, but no. You need to stop calling me. I’m in the middle of final exams and—”

“After exams then.”

“No, that’s not what I meant—”

But he was walking away.

Angela practically ran the rest of the way to her apartment. She locked the door behind her.

“Finally!” she sighed. What a bizarre day. At least it was over now and she was back in her apartment.

Safe.

She tossed her things onto the couch.

And froze.

There, on the corner back cushion, was a smudge. A tiny smudge—hardly noticeable, even on the pale beige fabric. But it hadn’t been there last night or this morning.

Dread settled beneath her breastbone and tears prickled behind her eyes. “No,” she muttered. “Not safe.”

She frowned. Could it have been Doug? He had no reason to be in this neighborhood, except to check on her. He’d said he had a delivery in the area, but his office supply store was out in Metairie. She doubted he had many clients down here in the French Quarter.

Before she could decide whether to call the super or storm downstairs and bang on his door, her phone rang.

She looked at the caller ID, and the dread in her chest lifted. “Brad, hi—” Her voice gave out. She cleared her throat. “Calling to make sure I’m studying?” she asked, smiling.

Her brother didn’t call often. He was too overworked. And he never, ever called during the day.

“Studying? Oh. Your exams,” Brad said. “No, I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine,” she answered automatically, turning her back on the sofa. “You, on the other hand, sound a lot more distracted than usual. How’s Sue? And my two gorgeous nieces?”

“Good. They’re good. So how are you doing?”

She laughed. “You just asked me that. Somebody was talking about you the other day. Let’s see—oh, I know. Hank Percy. He’d heard your name on the national news—some case you were trying. He wanted to do a piece on you for the Chef Voleur Weekly Record. I’m supposed to ask you if you would talk to him.” She paused for dramatic effect. “So, ADA Harcourt, I guess you’ve finally hit the big time. You’re going to have a write-up in Hank Percy’s column.”

There was a pause, barely enough to notice. “I guess.”

“Brad? Is everything all right?” The sinking feeling came back. “Is Sue okay? The girls?”

He sighed. “Seriously, sis. Can’t I call and check on you without you getting paranoid?”

“Interesting choice of words,” she said wryly. “It’s been a weird day. But my last exam is Monday, and I’ll have a whole six weeks before summer classes start.”

Suddenly, she missed her brother. He and Sue and her nieces were her only family since their mother had died. “I was planning to fly up there for a long weekend this summer. Why don’t I come next week, or the week after?”

Another pause. Longer this time. “Now’s not a good time. That big case Hank Percy called you about has put me behind on several others, and—and the girls have a virus.”

Angela felt hurt. Brad was putting her off. She could hear it in his voice. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

She heard him take a breath. “Absolutely. It’s just hectic. Maybe in about a month. How about the Fourth of July?”

“Okay then. Now’s not really a good time for me, either. I’m probably going to sleep for a week after my last test on Monday. Why don’t you give me a call when things settle down—if they ever do?”

“I will. I promise. Things are just crazy right now. Listen, sis. Watch out for yourself. New Orleans can be dangerous.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m tough. See, when I was a kid, my brother and his best friend picked on me all the time. I had to learn to stand up for myself.”

Brad chuckled. “You are tough. There’s no denying that.”

“Speaking of your best friend, guess who I ran into today?”

There was nothing but silence on the other end of the phone.

“Brad? Are you there?”

“Yeah. What—you don’t mean Delancey, there in New Orleans?”