REUNIONS CAN BE DEADLY

Teaming up with an old flame is not what bodyguard Chloe Howard would call a smart move. Nine years ago Chloe and T. J. Davenport worked on a case together, fell in love, then went their separate ways. Now she’s reunited with the fearless bodyguard to protect a controversial couple on a book tour through Texas. And the reunion reminds Chloe of dreams best forgotten. She knows she has to keep her emotions in check so their clients’ protection remains their top priority. Protection that is the only thing keeping them from falling prey to a stalker’s deadly schemes.

He felt responsible for her.

What happened with his car only strengthened that belief. Someone had tampered with the brakes and Chloe could have been seriously hurt…or killed. He shuddered at the thought.

She laid her hand on his shoulder. “You’re upset about your car, aren’t you? We knew this could be a dangerous assignment. We’re in a dangerous business.”

T.J. stared into those glittering eyes and wanted to lose himself in them, to forget where they were for a few minutes at least. He wished they were anyplace but here in the middle of a case heating up. He grazed his forefinger across her cheek. “I should have been in my car,” he whispered.

For a moment he allowed himself to focus totally on her. The house faded from his consciousness, and it was only Chloe and him, together in their own private world.

Then he heard the noise he dreaded—footsteps, approaching in the dark.

MARGARET DALEY

feels she has been blessed. She has been married more than thirty years to her husband, Mike, whom she met in college. He is a terrific support and her best friend. They have one son, Shaun. Margaret has been writing for many years and loves to tell a story. When she was a little girl, she would play with her dolls and make up stories about their lives. Now she writes these stories down. She especially enjoys weaving stories about families and how faith in God can sustain a person when things get tough. When she isn’t writing, she is fortunate to be a teacher for students with special needs. Margaret has taught for more than twenty years and loves working with her students. She has also been a Special Olympics coach and has participated in many sports with her students.

Bodyguard Reunion

Margaret Daley

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

—Proverbs 3:5–6

To my husband, Mike. I love you.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

EPILOGUE

DEAR READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

EXCERPT

ONE

Her first day on the job as a bodyguard for the Zimmermans and Chloe Howard already wanted to quit. In a limousine heading for the Dallas Community Christian Church, Chloe sat next to her client, Mary Zimmerman. Across from her, T. J. Davenport guarded Mary’s husband, Paul. If Kyra Hunt, her employer at Guardians, Inc., had told her she would be working with T. J. Davenport, she would have declined the assignment. Instead, she would be around the man for the entire month of the Zimmermans’ book tour.

Chloe kept her gaze trained out the side window, but occasionally felt the brush of T.J.’s dark gaze. He was probably trying to figure out how to back out of this assignment, too.

She’d worked with him nine years ago when he was a Secret Service agent and she was a police officer for the Dallas Police Department. From the beginning she’d been attracted to him, and when they had started dating, the attraction had grown into love—or so she’d thought. But his job had taken him away, and now she’d discovered he was back in Dallas, no longer a Secret Service agent.

The limo driver turned onto the road that curved up to the covered vestibule of a megachurch, where they would exit the vehicle. People crammed the entrance, waiting for the couple to arrive. Even on this windy, cold day, a large crowd was here, hoping to get a glimpse of the couple whose book, Taking Back America, had rocketed to number one on the New York Times bestseller list. This was the third such appearance by the Zimmermans, who wrote about putting God back into daily life. Off-duty police had roped off a path for the Zimmermans to the double glass doors, and each officer had taken up a post every few feet to hold the throng back.

Was it enough? Whoever had targeted Mary and Paul at their second stop in the book tour could be in the multitude waiting for them to climb from the car. So far, no description had been obtained of the person or persons in Paris, Texas, who had thrown stink bombs into the gathering, scattering everyone. Mary had nearly been trampled before her husband had gotten to her. Knowing what Mary and Paul stood for and the effect it must have had on them tightened Chloe’s gut. That incident had led to the Zimmermans’ publisher hiring two bodyguards for the third stop and the rest of their book tour.

Chloe straightened, scanning the area through the windows while T.J. did the same, his large body poised and alert. The Zimmermans had only reluctantly agreed to protection, not totally convinced there was a threat against them. They’d always had dissenters and had even received hate mail. A particular nasty letter had arrived at their first stop in Longview, Texas, and might be tied to the incident in Paris.

Chloe had wanted to sneak the couple into the church through a back way, but the Zimmermans didn’t want to go that far. They wanted to be accessible to the people who had come to hear them speak. She’d tried to convince the pair of the potential danger, and to her surprise, T.J. had agreed with her.

Their parting in the past had been intense, filled with anger and hurt. He’d wanted to continue with a long-distance relationship. She’d seen too many of those fail—like her parents’ marriage with her dad in the navy and gone a good part of the year.

As she did a final check of the huge crowd before exiting the limousine, her gaze collided briefly with T.J.’s. Not one emotion showed on his face, creating what she had come to think of as his professional facade. Cold. Determined. At one time she’d known a side to him apart from work. His laughter and smiles had always fulfilled a need in her for more of that in her life. There had been little of that growing up with a mother who hadn’t been happy her husband was gone so much.

Chloe had even begun to picture what it would be like married to him—the children they would have. She’d wanted a family since she’d worked as a teenager in the church nursery each Sunday. She’d fallen in love with caring for children. No, she wasn’t going to think about what could have been with T.J. if circumstances had been different.

She quickly focused on Mary Zimmerman, who had insisted on being addressed by her first name. “We need to escort you inside as fast as we can. Keep moving. I’ll be right behind you.”

Dressed in a powder-blue suit with a pencil skirt, Mary uncrossed her legs, her forehead crinkling. “But these people are out here because they want to hear us speak. The seating inside has been sold-out for weeks. I can’t ignore them when they took the time to come here.”

“Someone in that crowd might want to harm you and your husband.” T.J. slid closer to the door and gripped the handle. “Stink bombs may seem like a prank, but two people were hurt seriously enough to go to the hospital. Thankfully you all took care of those hurt, but if your husband hadn’t gotten to you when he did, you might have needed to be hospitalized, too.”

“But what if that was kids in Paris and our publisher overreacted? I know that sort of thing happened at my high school several times when I was a teenager.” Paul Zimmerman took his wife’s hand.

T.J. looked from Mary to Paul. “How about the threatening letter delivered to your hotel in Longview? Another teenage prank?”

Chloe swiveled her attention to T.J. He plowed his fingers through his thick, wavy black hair—one of the few habits she’d noticed before that indicated he was worried about something.

T.J. continued, “It described in detail what he wanted to do with you two, beginning with torture. That doesn’t sound like a teenager. I’ve read some of your hate mail, and that one had a different feel to it.”

He’d read some of the Zimmermans’ hate mail? When? How had he gotten it? She’d been assigned this case only hours ago. Other than being apprised of what had happened in Longview and Paris, she had nothing else to go on. Not even the hate letter they’d received in Longview. Time had been limited when she had met with Kyra this morning.

The thought that T.J. knew more than she did irritated her, but mostly she felt she didn’t have all the information to do the best job possible because this job had come up so suddenly. When this event was over, she would have a few choice words with the man. Just because he’d been the team leader on the one case they had worked on together didn’t mean that was the situation now. The only way she could do this job was to be totally professional and an equal partner.

Paul frowned. “This is curtailing our mission to reach the masses as personally as we can, and that certainly isn’t from behind bodyguards and police lines. They need to see we aren’t afraid to fight for what is right.”

“Honey, maybe that’s the point of the threats. To keep us from connecting with the people.” Even in the midst of a tense situation, a smile graced Mary’s lips. “The Lord is our protection, but our publisher will cancel this tour if we don’t agree to—” she waved her hand toward Chloe and T.J. “—them being our bodyguards. I think spreading our message is too important to cancel the tour.”

A long sigh escaped Paul’s lips. “Fine, but I’m having a talk with the publishing house after this is over with. Let’s go.”

Chloe studied T.J.’s reaction to the declaration, and not one emotion crossed his face. She’d worked with him and knew that expression, but she’d also seen its opposite. When he’d been waiting for a chance to protect someone on the level of the vice president and finally got his promotion, she wouldn’t move to Washington to be with him. Anger, hurt and disappointment had swirled between them that day.

She’d had her reasons. He’d had his. They’d parted. After a few calls from T.J. trying to persuade her to come to Washington, she’d never heard from him again until this morning when Kyra had introduced her to her partner in this assignment.

Before he could catch her staring at him, Chloe busied herself with opening the door and exiting the limo. The wind whipped through her, its cold sting biting. She surveyed the crowd, looking for any potential threats. Too many people pressed together. Too many possibilities.

Cheers rose from the spectators, the din assailing Chloe’s ears as the crowd closed in around the Zimmermans, who started toward the entrance. This beloved couple’s message touched many people. Chloe herself was a fan of their grassroots movement to take back the family and this country. They were full of integrity, compassionate and straightforward in what was important. Who wouldn’t believe in their ideas?

But someone out there wasn’t a fan. And she knew firsthand how hate could fester, exploding outward to include everyone. She’d seen more than her share, to the point that she wondered how much longer she could do what she was doing. But this was what she was good at.

Chloe moved forward on Mary’s right toward the massive double glass doors. T.J. took the left side of Paul, steering him through the people wanting to shake hands with the couple before they headed into the church.

Every sense on alert, Chloe kept her hand near her holstered gun. Something didn’t feel right. Or was she confusing this with an assignment she’d had a year ago under similar circumstances? Her shoulder still ached where she’d taken a bullet defending her client.

Mary had stopped and leaned close to an older woman, taking her hand. “I’ll be praying for you and your family.”

Tears glistened in the fiftysomething spectator’s eyes. “That means so much to me. I don’t know what else to do anymore.”

“Praying is important. I’ll be addressing some of the issues you’re dealing with today. I know our talk will be piped out here for the people who couldn’t get seats.” Mary lifted the rope standing between her and the woman. “But I’m sure we can find one extra place for you.”

Chloe inched closer to Mary, especially as the crowd surged forward with the vacant spot left by the lady. Several people nearby shouted various problems they were dealing with, but the words jumbled into incoherent sentences.

“We need to keep moving,” Chloe whispered to Mary while her full attention remained fixed on the throng. “Your husband is at the door waiting.”

Mary nodded and replied to a few close to her as she shuffled forward, shaking hands with as many as she could.

They were only yards away from the entrance now. The feeling of being watched tickled up Chloe’s spine, leaving goose bumps in its wake. She’d learned not to ignore that sensation. She glanced back, but couldn’t tell anything because everyone’s eyes were on them.

Then a middle-aged man, going bald, pushed past the off-duty officer and grabbed Mary, making her stop. “I want to sit inside, too. Take me.”

Chloe stepped forward, putting herself between Mary and the man, forcing him to let go of her client and back away. Anger flashed across his face. Tension whipped down Chloe as others began to shout they wanted inside.

Mary smiled, although Chloe could see the corners of her mouth twitching from holding it in place. “I’m sorry. The fire codes are specific about how many people can be in the auditorium.”

Finally, Mary and the older lady entered a large church foyer with lots of windows and skylights. Mary paused to talk to one of the coordinators to make sure someone took care of the lady and to see about letting the crowd outside stand in the foyer, where it was warmer.

Having no time to do a walkthrough beforehand, Chloe swept her gaze around her surroundings as she crossed the threshold, noting where everyone stood, where the doors and exit signs were, as the floor plan she’d seen indicated. “I don’t think that’s wise under the circumstances,” she whispered to Mary, imagining the chaos that could cause.

The young coordinator called over an older gentleman, who must be the person in charge, and they talked together.

The man turned to Mary. “We’ll try to accommodate as many as we can.”

“Will they be able to hear our talk?”

“We can pipe your speech out into the foyer. But we can’t fit everyone in here.”

“I understand. I’d appreciate anything you can do to make it better for the people outside. Bless you for trying.” Mary made her way toward her husband, taking his offered hand.

The love that flowed between them made Chloe wonder when she had given up on her dream of having a family—a husband who loved her like that and at least two children. But everyone she’d dated since T.J. hadn’t been right, especially her last boyfriend, Adam. He’d cheated on her. At least T.J. hadn’t done that.

The noise of the crowd in the massive auditorium at the end of the lobby grew to a deafening roar the nearer they came. With every seat taken, there were over fifteen hundred cheering people here to listen to the Zimmermans. Chloe wouldn’t relax until they were all back at the house where the couple was staying.

The young coordinator escorted the guest speakers toward the stage area. As the Zimmermans stepped out to greet the crowd, the people all rose, clapping and yelling. A wall of sound assaulted Chloe. As the audience finally quieted, Chloe stationed herself behind the Zimmermans, positioning herself so the lights didn’t obscure her view of the spectators. Her quick glance took in where T.J. was. He tipped his head toward her, his signal he would take the left side of the auditorium while she cased the right. Even with her and T.J. each taking half the auditorium, it was hard to keep an eye on everyone since people crammed the place.

* * *

After the presentation by the Zimmermans, T.J. paced the room above the church auditorium like a bear he’d seen at the zoo. He should be used to waiting. It was a big part of his job, but this assignment was different—and all because Chloe Howard prowled the other side of the room. From the surprised look that had flashed across her face this morning before she masked it, he was sure she hadn’t known he was the other bodyguard on this case.

In fact, he was positive she hadn’t or she wouldn’t have taken the case. Not after how they had parted nine years ago. He’d been falling in love with her when he’d been given a choice assignment to be part of the detail covering the vice president. He had been a Secret Service agent at the time, assigned to Dallas working counterfeiting cases and financial crimes, sometimes in coordination with the Dallas Police Department. He couldn’t turn down a chance to move into the protection part of the United States Secret Service, a move that would make his career in the agency. He’d wanted Chloe to move to Washington and see if their relationship would grow into a lasting one. He’d known from his fellow agents how hard being a law enforcement officer could be on a marriage, and that a marriage would only survive if it was based on a deep friendship. He’d decided he would only marry once.

She wouldn’t leave Dallas. Her widowed mother had been fighting cancer, going through chemo, and she’d needed Chloe. He’d understood that, but she also hadn’t wanted to have a long-distance relationship. He’d realized it would be difficult, but he’d been willing to try it, even though he had trouble trusting others—collateral damage of his law enforcement days. He’d never found someone like Chloe. Was that the reason he’d decided to settle in Dallas when he’d left the Secret Service?

Now, having seen Chloe, he wondered at the wisdom of asking to team up with her, even though she was an excellent bodyguard. From working with her nine years ago on a counterfeiting case in conjunction with the Dallas police, he’d seen her dedication, and that had impressed him enough to persuade her to go out with him after their assignment was over.

He turned from watching her out of the corner of his eye and peered out the only window in the room that overlooked the church entrance hall. Finally the crowd was thinning and soon they could leave. He’d feel better when they were back at the couple’s temporary residence, the house of one of their good friends who was on vacation, although T.J. could never totally let down his guard. The chances of something happening increased during transport from one place to another.

He was still amazed the Zimmermans had had to be convinced to have two bodyguards. Today, at their talk, he’d sensed a person in the audience calculating how to get to the pair, but he hadn’t noticed anyone who stood out. He’d learned, though, not to ignore that gut feeling. It had saved his life several times.

The couple might think the past threats had been pranks. They hadn’t been. He glanced at them, talking with the organizers of the event. When he’d insisted on bringing Mary and Paul into the church the back way, they had told him they were in the Lord’s hands and were safe.

He’d believed in God fervently at one time. Now he was at a crossroads in his life, especially concerning the important aspects of life. He was good at guarding people, but he’d become jaded in his job. He needed something more. That was the reason he’d resigned from the Secret Service after fourteen years and approached Kyra Hunt about going into partnership with her and expanding Guardians, Inc. While he took this assignment with Chloe, Kyra would consider his proposition of taking the business to the next level.

He sensed Chloe advancing toward him, although her footsteps were quiet. He glanced over his shoulder, locking gazes with her. In the past those sea-green eyes had been warm with emotions developing between them. Now they were cold. Her demeanor was totally professional and reserved—at least where he was concerned. He had known going in that might be the situation, but he’d wanted the best female bodyguard as his partner. In that moment, though, he acknowledged he had wanted more. Were there lingering feelings?

A memory of their first kiss years ago taunted him, stirring emotions he’d tried to forget and thought he had. They hadn’t been right for each other nine years ago. Why should now be any different?

“We should be able to leave in ten or fifteen minutes. I’d prefer to wait until most of the people have left before we do.” T.J. assessed her long auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail and remembered a time when her hair had been chin length and straight. What else was different?

Chloe stiffened, but her expression remained blank.

“Is there a problem?”

She released a long breath. “No, I agree with your plan, but before you whisk my client anywhere, please inform me of your intentions. If this is going to work, we’ll need to be equal partners. A team.” Emphasizing the last word, she looked him directly in the eye and held his gaze as though waiting for him to challenge that claim.

“I totally agree, and I’m sorry I acted without consulting you after their presentation. However, there may be times when it’ll be necessary for one of us to act and then explain. The lobby is still full of people from the crowd outside.” He refused to break visual contact.

Her chin tilted up a fraction, and she squared her shoulders even more. But the look in her eyes, a stormy green like the sky right before a tornado struck, mellowed. “I know the only time we worked together you were the team leader and used to giving orders. My first priority will be Mary Zimmerman. I was hired to protect her. You were hired to guard her husband. I’ve been working for Guardians, Inc., for four years. I’m not a novice anymore.” The tense set to her body relaxed. “I’ve changed since we knew each other.”

He had changed, too. He realized if they were together very long on this assignment they would have to discuss their parting nine years ago, but with one glance around the room, he knew this wasn’t the time or the place. “I know you aren’t. I’ve read over the assignments you’ve done this past year. I’m impressed. That’s why I asked for you. I felt a woman would be better suited for guarding Mary, so I contacted Kyra.” He wouldn’t go into the details about the possibility of buying into a partnership with Kyra for Guardians, Inc. He wouldn’t be part of Guardians, Inc., if he and Chloe couldn’t at least call a truce between them.

“You know my boss?” Her body visibly relaxed.

“Yes, I’ve known her since the first time I lived here. We’ve kept in touch through the years.” And he’d asked from time to time about Chloe. Another tidbit he wouldn’t tell her.

Chloe peered out the window, confusion clouding her eyes for a few seconds. “She didn’t tell me. I didn’t even know you would be guarding Paul.”

“I told her not to say so because there was little time to get someone and I didn’t want you to refuse before meeting the Zimmermans. There’s so much that’s changed in nine years. I didn’t want our past together to affect you taking the assignment.”

She blinked several times.

“Their publisher didn’t contact me about the job until late last night. So I went to Kyra early this morning and was glad to learn you were available.”

“But—” she looked away again “—after what happened between us, I’m surprised.”

A silence fell between them peppered with murmurs from Paul and Mary’s conversation with the organizers. T.J. inched closer and lowered his voice. He touched her arm, not sure if she would yank away or not. She didn’t. “We need to talk later. I don’t want anything standing in the way of this partnership. I’m not the same man I was. Life has a way of redirecting your dreams.”

Chloe opened her mouth, but instead pressed her lips closed before saying anything and fastened her attention out the window. An uncomfortable moment later, she said, “It looks like the crowd is gone. I’ll feel better when we get them back to the house. Everything went well, but I couldn’t shake...” Her eyebrows slashed downward.

“I got the feeling someone was out there watching the Zimmermans, waiting for the right moment.”

She faced him. “I did, too, but then nothing happened, even with the last-minute change Mary insisted on with the crowd coming inside. I was beginning to wonder if my instinct was off. Generally, it isn’t.”

In that brief moment a connection sprang up between them as if their breakup had never occurred. “I don’t think it is. Someone in the audience could have been casing the Zimmermans. Just because he did something at the first and second stops in the tour doesn’t mean he will at this one. The security was tightened, and he might not have expected that.”

Finally, as though she’d realized his hand was touching her, she stepped back. “You keep saying he. Is there a reason you think it’s one man?”

He shook his head. “I need a way to refer to the person or persons since we don’t have any names.”

“I just want to make sure I know everything connected to this assignment. No clues to who is after them?”

“From what happened in Paris with the multiple stink bombs, I figure it’s more than one person. But frankly, I know so little at this time.” T.J. glanced at the pair they were guarding. “I’m concerned mostly about their lack of concern.”

“It could lead to problems. Mary puts everyone else first.”

“You know her?” T.J. kneaded his shoulder, aching from holding himself taut and ready to move at a second’s notice. There was still tension with Chloe. He’d thought the past was just that—the past—that they could forge a working relationship because Chloe was good at her job.

“Not personally, but I know of her. I’ve read her books, and they have a great message. We need to put God’s principles into action.”

“In theory, the concepts they promote might work, but in practice we need more law enforcement officers and tougher laws.” When he saw her forehead crease, he continued, “We should leave, but we’ll talk later, and I’ll make sure you know everything I do. There won’t be any confusion with this assignment.”

One of her perfectly arched eyebrows lifted, a smile flirting with her mouth. “Promise?”

He chuckled. “Yes, we made a good team once before. There’s no reason why we can’t now.” Her smile gave him hope that they could at least work together.

“I suppose anything is possible.”

“Let’s get the Zimmermans to a more secure location. Okay?”

She nodded.

Turning toward the couple, T.J. said, “It’s time for us to leave.”

While the Zimmermans said goodbye to the organizers, T.J. withdrew his phone from his pocket and called the limo driver to pull the car around to the back exit. Now that the crowd was gone, the couple shouldn’t mind going out that way. He let it ring five times, then it went to voice mail.

“The Zimmermans are ready to leave. We’ll stay put until you call back.” His grip on the cell tightened. That gut feeling he’d had earlier clamored against his skull, demanding to be heard.

Chloe watched him as he slipped his phone back into his pocket and evened out his expression. Although she wasn’t as easy to read as in the past, it was clear when concern invaded her eyes.

He moved closer to her and whispered, “The driver didn’t answer. I’m going out to the parking lot to see what has happened. You stay here and guard the Zimmermans. I’ll call you and let you know what’s going on. Lock the door after I leave.”

He started to turn away, but she grasped his arm. “I won’t open that door unless you tell me it looks like it’s going to rain. Okay?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t release her grip. “Be careful. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

Just like I don’t. Which only reinforced the suspicion something was wrong.

Nodding, he strode toward the exit, ushering the two organizers out of the room in front of him. The sound of the lock clicking into place didn’t quiet the alarms going off in his mind. He could think of a hundred reasons the driver hadn’t answered the call—most of them bad.

He left the church through the back door, his gaze sweeping the area around him before he stepped out into the cold February day. A brisk wind blew from the west, slamming against his torso as he headed around the side of the church where the driver was supposed to have parked the limousine. Fifteen yards away, he spied the car where it should be.

The windows were darkened, so when T.J. stared into the vehicle, he couldn’t see the driver. Anywhere, inside or out.

Then T.J. noticed the tire nearest him had been slashed. From where he stood he could see the back one, too. Flat. His stomach clenched. Adrenaline pumped through his body as he pulled his gun from his holster. While he scanned the parking lot, he made his way to the limo. His heartbeat picked up speed as adrenaline flooded his system.

He circled the limo quickly. Two more flat tires. No one hiding behind the car. When he returned to the driver’s side, he yanked open the passenger door. No one hiding there, either. Then he turned his attention to the front. When T.J. opened the door, there was no sign of the driver or where he might be.

T.J. pushed a button on the side panel, then hurried to the back of the limo. When he lifted the trunk, his breath bottled in his lungs. He’d found the driver.

TWO

Chloe paced in the room above the auditorium. She should have heard from T.J. by now. This didn’t bode well. Tension held her tighter with each minute that ticked away until she felt like a walking statue. When her cell rang, she came to a halt. It was T.J.’s phone calling.

“Yes?” she said with wariness. Please let him be okay.

“The driver was knocked out and locked in the trunk of the limousine. All the tires have been slashed. I’m coming into the church now with the driver. I wanted you to know what happened before I call the police.” A slight breathlessness to his words indicated he was hurrying to get back to the room.

“I’ll call. I know some people on the police force.” She disconnected and immediately placed a call to a detective who was a friend and filled him in on where they were and what had happened, then she called for an ambulance.

A knock cut through the sudden silence in the room as Mary and Paul listened to Chloe’s conversation with Detective Rob Matthews. Paul started for the door.

“Don’t! Let me.” Sliding her phone into her pocket, then drawing her gun, Chloe hurried to cut him off. He stopped, his eyes huge as he looked from her to Mary.

“There was a problem at the limo. Someone knocked out the driver and slashed the tires.” Chloe clasped the handle and motioned for Paul and Mary to stand in the corner, out of the line of fire. When they had moved, she asked, “Who is it?”

“T.J. here. It looks like it’s going to rain.” His deep, husky voice penetrated the barrier of wood between them.

The smooth sound of his words sent relief through her—and something else, a flutter deep in her stomach. She dismissed the reaction, chalking it up to being glad he was all right. She couldn’t afford to fall for T.J. again. She unlocked the door and swung it open while keeping her gun ready at her side.

T.J. helped the stunned driver into the room as Chloe shut the door and threw the lock—not that it would stop someone really determined to get inside. In fact, she could probably pick the lock in under a minute.

Mary rushed from the corner with Paul right behind her. When she reached the driver, she waved her hand toward the nearest chair. “I’ve had some first-aid training. Let me check him.”

The Zimmermans tended to the man, who responded to Mary’s questions about how he felt as she looked into his eyes, then examined the back of his head. When she probed with her fingertips, the young man winced.

“How long until the police and paramedics arrive?” T.J. asked Chloe, drawing her attention to him.

“I called a friend, Rob Matthews, who is on duty and will send some patrol officers. He’s on his way, too, but they’ll get here first. Maybe ten minutes out. Does the driver know what happened?”

“He was groggy. I wanted to get in here before questioning him. I kept thinking it might have been a diversion.”

“It’s been quiet.”

Mary crossed the room to the counter where there was a sink and wetted some paper towels. As she made her way back to the driver, Paul walked over to them, his color pale.

“What’s going on?” His voice wavered.

“Not sure. At best, another harassment.” T.J. started for the driver and Mary.

“And the worst?” Paul followed.

“The attacker is out there waiting to do something else, most likely to you and your wife.”

T.J.’s declaration caused Paul to falter.

Chloe grasped his arm and steadied him. “That’s why we’re here. To protect you and Mary.” She looked toward T.J. and was comforted he was her partner. He exuded a self-assurance that would keep the Zimmermans as composed as possible under the circumstances. She’d discovered that was important when events turned bad.

“What should we do?” Paul asked Chloe.

“Pray. The police are on the way. They’ll check the surrounding area and the church. Right now it’s best if we stay in here until we’re given the all-clear sign from them.” She schooled her voice into a calm, even tone.

“How are we getting back to the house?”

“I’ll ask my detective friend to take us. The driver needs to be checked out by a doctor. The paramedics coming will take care of him. From the looks of it, he might have a concussion.”

As T.J. paused next to the driver, Mary finished tending to the man with her limited resources. Chloe moved with Paul toward the trio. She needed to know what had happened to the driver.

“I think he’ll be fine. He’s coherent.” Mary backed away while Paul wrapped his arms around her.

“Did you see who did this to you, Ben?” T.J. sat in a chair in front of the young man, whose dazed look had cleared.

Ben Johnson leaned against the table, cradling his head in one hand. “Not really. That parking space was one of the few left after I dropped y’all in front.” Closing his eyes for a few seconds, he rubbed his fingers across his forehead. “I parked and sat in the car for a while before I decided to use the restroom. I came into the church, found the men’s room then went back to the limo.”

“Did you see anyone in the parking lot?”

“A large man came out of the restroom as I was going in, but otherwise no one else. I heard the general rumble from the auditorium and saw people down the hall toward the front of the church—I guess in the foyer.”

“Can you describe the man coming out of the bathroom?” T.J. gripped the back of his chair.

“Big. Maybe six and a half feet. Dark hair. That’s all I can remember. I wasn’t really paying attention. The boss doesn’t like us away from the limo for long. I was only gone five minutes.” Ben swept his gaze across the group.

Chloe stepped next to T.J. “What happened when you went back to the car?”

“I saw the slashed tires on the left side and hurried to see how bad the damage was. All I could think was how mad my boss would be. The next thing I know someone hit me over the head. Everything is fuzzy after that. I vaguely remember being dumped in the trunk. I must have passed out.”

“So you don’t know where your attacker came from?” T.J. asked the driver, but he looked at Chloe.

She tore her gaze away and focused on Ben.

He squinted and stared off into space for a moment. “He must have come from behind the car next to the limo on the right side. I think.”

“But you aren’t sure?” Chloe asked as though she and T.J. had silently agreed to take turns with the questions.

“No. It happened fast.”

“Can you describe the car on your right?” T.J. rose suddenly, invading her space.

Ben’s eyes lit up. “Yes. I may not remember people, but I do remember what they drive. It was a red Mustang, last year’s model. A beauty. The car gleamed.”

“Anything else?” Chloe moved back several steps, her heartbeat increasing from T.J.’s nearness.

“There was a pine-tree air refresher hanging from the rearview mirror. I love the smell of pine.”

Chloe’s cell phone rang. She walked toward the window that overlooked the front of the church and answered a call from Rob. “What’s going on?” Outside, three patrol cars pulled up to the entrance.

“The officers are there and will check out the church. I’ll meet them there in ten with my partner. They’ll let me know when it’s safe for you all to come out.”

“Thanks. We’re in the room above the auditorium in front. I’ll be able to see you pull up.”

T.J. joined her as she put her cell back into her pocket. He looked at the police fanning out and heading into the building. “We don’t have much to go on.”

“Do you think the driver could be involved?”

“I don’t think he’s lying. There are no big tells. But some people are quite good at lying.”

His shoulder brushed against hers when he shifted. The casual touch zipped through her, making her acutely aware of the man beside her at the window—almost as if only days had passed since they had been together instead of years. It disconcerted her, and she had to fight to think what she needed to say. “So I’ll have Kyra check the company and driver out. But I don’t see how the description of the car next to the limo will produce anything.”

“While you were on the phone, Ben remembered the last three numbers of the license plate. It’s probably nothing, but we should tell your detective friend about the Mustang.”

“In other words, we’re no closer to who or why someone is after the Zimmermans. Ben referred to the assailant as ‘he.’ Does he think it was a man who attacked him?”

“I didn’t ask. I will, but Ben is over six feet tall and a hefty guy. To knock him out and stick him into the trunk would take someone large and capable of managing that physically.”

“The man from the restroom?”

T.J. shrugged. “As you said, we have little to go on.”

A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. A black Crown Vic drove into the parking lot and stopped next to one of the patrol cars. Not far behind the police was the ambulance that pulled up to the door to the church. “Rob and his partner are here as well as the EMTs. I told Rob where we were. He’ll let us know when it’s safe for us to come out of the room.”

T.J. massaged his nape, a frown marring the hard planes of his face. Although he wasn’t classically handsome, his strong features gave off an air of capability and confidence. On closer examination, she realized he must have broken his nose between the time they had been together and now. How had it happened? Had there been other injuries? She didn’t want to care, but she did.

Before she became fixated on that, she swung toward the window and observed her friend entering the building. But every part of her was strongly aware of the man standing next to her, their arms only inches apart as they watched the same thing.

“When we get back to the house, I’ll need to contact the Zimmermans’ publisher,” he finally said as all the police disappeared inside.

“Are you going to recommend that the couple cancel the rest of the tour?”

“Yes. Their message might be important, but not if they are hurt or killed.”

“They feel this country is at a crossroads. One road holds destruction. The other is a chance for salvation. They’re out there fighting for us to take the right path. I’m not sure they’ll quit.”

“Then we’ll have to do what we can to protect them.”

He’d said we’ll. She used to think of them in terms of we. She knew the danger of doing it now, but they had to form a solid partnership in order to protect the Zimmermans, who were clearly in danger. The more she and T.J. were a united front, the better Mary and Paul would be.

But at what cost to her feelings? When he’d left her to go to Washington, she’d been alone dealing with her mother and her chemo treatments. She’d missed her father, who had died two years before, and T.J. She’d never felt so alone. She couldn’t go there again.

* * *

T.J. made his rounds of the two-story house, checking all the doors and window to make sure the place was locked up tight. It had been a long day, and the Zimmermans had retired early. Now all he and Chloe had to do was keep them alive. He’d worked with others in his duties as a Secret Service agent, and usually he was the lead. Chloe had made it clear, though, that they needed to be partners, and she was right.

When he entered the kitchen, the scent of perking coffee saturated the air. After the day he’d had, he would need the whole pot to keep going.

Chloe turned from the counter, a grin gracing her lips. “It’s almost done.”

For a few seconds that smile whisked away his worries. She’d made the day bearable; he’d known his back was covered. “I hope it’s not decaf.”

“What’s the point in drinking coffee without the caffeine?”

He chuckled. “True. I remember you like your coffee like I do—strong and caffeinated.” He recalled many things now that he was around her again. Her laugh—filled with so much joy. Her favorite dessert—anything with caramel. Her caring nature, especially for the underdog.

“It’s strong. We’ll have to take turns standing guard tonight, so when the coffee runs out, make some more.”

“I’ll take the first watch. Coffee won’t keep me up when I do get a chance to sleep. I don’t think anything will.” He covered the distance to the pot and poured a mugful. “This house isn’t as secure as it should be. I wish they weren’t staying here, but they insisted. Their friend invited them to use it while he was away on a skiing vacation.”

“We’ll only be here a few more days, then on to San Antonio. Let’s hope the next place they’re staying is better.”

“The alarm system is old and could be circumvented easily, not to mention the locks and door frames aren’t as sturdy as I’d like.”

Her large eyes trapped him. “Maybe we should try to find a more secure place tomorrow. Then both of us can stay up tonight. Just in case there’s a follow-through with what happened today?”

He didn’t remember her eyes being so green—like a peridot crystal—when they had been together before. “I’m a light sleeper. I’ll leave the door open. We both need some sleep in order to do our jobs. Even no sleep for one night could impair our abilities.”

Chloe took a sip. “I was thinking of stretching out in front of the entrance to the Zimmermans’ bedroom. The easiest way to get to them is coming in the front door and up the stairs.”

“I’ll be planting myself on the stairs when not making my rounds. That way you can sleep in the room across the hall from the Zimmermans’. I can’t imagine the hard floor being comfortable.”

“I’m a light sleeper, too, so if you need help, just give me a holler.”

The more he was around her, the more he realized they used to have a lot of things in common—but not enough for a commitment. “Wish we had a big dog right about now, but we’ll have to rely on the alarm system.”

“The one that’s easily disarmed.” Her eyes twinkled, a dimple appearing in her cheek.

Her look warmed him, although the old house they were staying in had a draft as if the cold wind blew right through it. “Afraid so.” He cupped the mug between his hands and took a slow sip. “This might be a good time to talk. As crazy as this first day was, we may not have time later.”

Putting her cup down, she leaned back with her hands grasping the counter on either side of her. “I would prefer we leave the past in the past. What happened nine years ago can’t be changed.”

She made it sound so easy. Just forget the past—the moments he’d shared with her, his decision to go into law enforcement rather than become a preacher and what his job had meant to him at the time. In the end it hadn’t made any difference. They had gone their separate ways, and he needed to remember that.

“I made a choice to go to Washington—to take the promotion. I wanted you to come, but I understand why you didn’t. You had other obligations. Looking back on that time, I don’t think we were meant to be together. Sometimes people meet and begin to fall in love, but it doesn’t work out. I don’t want our past to interfere with the present.” As he spoke to her, he wondered if he really believed it couldn’t have worked out if circumstances had been different.

“I don’t, either. I can put it behind me. Can you?” Her knuckles whitened as her grip tightened on the granite edge.

“Yes, because I may be working with Guardians, Inc., and I can’t think of anyone I’d want more than you as a partner, if the need arises.”

“Kyra is expanding?”

“Maybe. I’ve given her a proposal to consider.”

She pushed off the counter. “What kind?” Wariness entered her voice.

“I have a lot of contacts for potential personnel and clients from my years working in the Secret Service. I’d buy into the business, and we would expand, hiring male bodyguards to complement the female ones already working for Guardians, Inc. I’ll take over some duties from her. I think she wants to have more time with her family.” T.J. swallowed some more of his drink, relishing it. She made a good cup of coffee.

“So you’d become my boss?” Her forehead crinkled; her mouth pinched into a frown.

“Yes. Can you work for me?”

Chloe tilted her head to the side, her gaze fastened on him as if studying him. “I don’t know if I can. Working on a case with you is one thing. We’ve got a past—one serious enough that you wanted me to follow you to Washington and I asked you to stay in Dallas. You didn’t. You made your choice.”

“I’d been working for that promotion for five years. I thought when your mother was better, you’d come. I asked you to. Why didn’t you?”

“I wanted to be more important to a man than a job. It’s the past. I don’t want to go through this again. No good will come of it.”

“So we’ll put the past in the past as you said and proceed forward?”

She nodded, stepping away from him.

“That’s all I need to know.” He finished the last few sips of his coffee.

“What made you quit the Secret Service? Nine years ago it was obvious your life revolved around your job.” Tension threaded through each word.

“Probably the same reason you quit the police department. I needed a change.” He busied himself pouring another cup of coffee. He couldn’t tell her about the government figure he’d protected while the man had had an affair. After a while, he hadn’t been able to look away as if nothing was wrong. He believed in marriage and wanted to get married only once in his life. When his respect for the man had plummeted, he’d realized that it was time for him to seek employment elsewhere.

“When you feel up to telling me the whole story, I’m willing to listen.” Her expression neutral, she passed him and headed toward the dining room. “I’ll do a walk-through, then go up to the bedroom across from the Zimmermans. Wake me in four hours.”

He watched her leave, then turned off the light and positioned himself at the bay window in the breakfast nook. Stepping close, he cracked the blinds open to survey the area outside. With all the security lights on, there were still pockets of shadows that could conceal a person from the patio to the wooden fence that surrounded the half-acre backyard. He had a bad feeling about this house. Good thing they were moving to San Antonio soon. He had a better place in mind for the Zimmermans to stay there, and the fewer people who knew the couple’s plans, the better to keep them safe during their off hours.

Now all he and Chloe needed to do was get the Zimmermans to San Antonio safely.

* * *

Before falling into bed, Chloe walked toward the window at one end of the upstairs hallway. She tried to dismiss the conversation she’d had with T.J. She couldn’t. When her mother had gone into remission, she’d actually considered resigning from the police force and going to Washington, D.C., to be with T.J.

But as she’d taken care of her mom, she’d seen the sadness and hurt she had held inside for years. While her mother had struggled with her battle with cancer, she had shared her disappointment in her marriage to a captain in the navy, who had been at sea for half their marriage, and how alone she’d felt for years. She hadn’t wanted to end up like her mother—married to a man married to his job. She’d never contacted T.J. and refused his calls. She wouldn’t settle for anything but what she deserved—a man who totally loved her and put her first rather than a career. She wasn’t sure about T.J.’s true feelings. He’d left because of his career—like her father.

Chloe approached the window, keeping the overhead light off so she could see better when she looked out. The security lamp on this side of the house illuminated every crevice. She made her way to the other end and studied the terrain more carefully because the soft glow didn’t cover every patch of ground. She started to turn away and go to bed when a movement out of the corner of her eye seized her full attention.

Someone was out there.

THREE

Chloe whirled away from the hallway window and ran to the stairs. As she descended, she drew her gun. “T.J., we’ve got a visitor.” She shouted the words and raced for the alarm system to turn it off so she could go outside.

“Where?” T.J. rushed into the foyer, his weapon in his hand.

“Right side of house.” Heart pounding, she punched in the off code, then hurried toward the front door at the same time he did. “I’ll check outside. You stay in here and guard the Zimmermans.” She reached for the handle first.

Her comment stopped him. He let his arm drop back to his side, a frown slashing his face. “I’m bigger. More capable of stopping an assailant.”

“We’re not going to get into an arm-wrestling match right now. I won’t jump the person.” She pulled open the door, narrowing her gaze on him. “I’m using my gun.”

He charged out the entrance. “So am I. Lock the door, turn on the alarm and call the police.”

Short of tackling him and knocking him out, Chloe had no other choice but to do as he said. But when this was over with, he would hear from her. She didn’t need protecting, too.

She flipped the lock in place, then stabbed in the code to turn the alarm back on. Anger and frustration surged through her veins. Pushing those emotions down, she called her detective friend.

“You wanted to know if anything unusual happens. T.J. is outside trying to apprehend an intruder.” She gave him the address.

“On my way.”

As she hung up, she hurried up the stairs to check on the Zimmermans and let them know what was happening. When she knocked on their bedroom door, no one called out or let her in. She heard something hit the floor and reached for the knob.

* * *

Gun drawn and up, T.J. crept around the right side of the house, his full concentration on protecting his client. A picture of Chloe’s furious face taunted his attention for a couple of seconds until he shoved it away. He’d deal with her anger later. His first priority was keeping everyone safe, including Chloe, whether she liked it or not.

A dog barked in the still of night—probably two or three houses away. His nerves taut, T.J. rounded the corner, ready to duck if shot at. He searched the shadows. Something moved beside a holly bush against the eight-foot fence. A man darted out from behind the foliage and ran toward the backyard.

T.J. gave chase, his strides lengthening. The intruder headed for the rear of the property, glancing over his shoulder at T.J., then sprinting faster.

T.J. increased his speed, cutting the distance between them. He catalogued the man’s build—over six-and-a-half feet tall, slim, gangly, his limbs disproportionate to the rest of him, reminding T.J. of an octopus.

The intruder lunged for the top of the fence, trying to hoist himself over it. T.J. leaped toward him and grabbed his legs as the man dangled half on this side of the property. T.J. yanked hard and the trespasser fell into him, sending them both crashing backward. T.J. hit the ground first with the intruder landing on top of him.

The air swooshed from T.J.’s lungs. His head bounced against the ground, causing the world to spin before his eyes. The hard impact wrenched the gun from his hand, and his Glock flew across the grass.

The man rolled off T.J. Scrambling for his weapon, T.J. drew in a breath. But the prowler barreled into T.J. before he could grab his gun.

* * *

Chloe twisted the Zimmermans’ bedroom door handle. Locked. “Mary. Paul. Open up.” She threw her shoulder against the barrier between her and her client. Pain radiated through her body as she hit the door again. Solid. Not budging. She stepped away to shoot the lock.

“Coming. Coming,” came Paul’s deep husky voice through the wood.

Chloe poised, ready at a second’s notice to react if he was being forced to let her in.

When he opened the door finally and stuck his head out of the gap in the entrance, worried lines mixed with the exhaustion on his face, his eyes blinking at the dazzling light in the hallway. “What’s wrong?”

“What was that crashing sound?”

“When I got out of bed, I bumped into an end table. Why are you waking us up?” He shook his head as though to wake himself totally.

“There’s a prowler outside. T.J. has gone to check on the situation while I secure you two. I need to come in and check your bedroom.”

“No one’s in here. I’d know.”

“Humor me.”

He flipped on the overhead light and stepped to the side to allow her to pass. Lying in bed, Mary groaned and hid her face as illumination flooded the room.

“She took a sleeping pill. After what happened today, she didn’t think she would get to sleep any other way.” Dressed in a long robe, Paul moved toward the bed. “What do you need us to do?”

“You two need to get up in case I have to move you quickly.” Chloe made a tour of the room, inspecting the closet and the connected bathroom. She stopped at the window and peered out the front of the house before checking to make sure it was locked. Satisfied no intruder was in the room, she crossed to the door. “Get dressed. I’ll be out in the hall.”

The muscles in her neck and shoulder taut, Chloe paced the corridor, examining the stairs and foyer below each time she passed them. Finally, when Mary and Paul left their bedroom, Chloe glanced at her watch. It had been ten minutes since T.J. had gone outside. She didn’t like not knowing what was going on.

What if something happened to him? No, I won’t think about that. T.J. can take care of himself. He’s been protecting people longer than me. He’s in Your hands, Lord.

The couple approached Chloe. Mary leaned against her husband, trying to wake up.

“What do we do now?” Paul asked, his arm around his wife.

“Sit down there—” Chloe gestured toward an area where their backs would be against the wall “—and if I tell you to move, do so immediately. Don’t be alarmed. I’m turning off the hallway light so I can check outside and see what’s happening.”

She inspected the ground where she’d seen the intruder on the side of the house. Nothing. Where was T.J.? The prowler? If he ran from T.J., he would go for the backyard most likely. She flipped the hallway light on again, then entered a bedroom overlooking the rear.

The sight of a tall, thin man pouncing on a figure on the ground stiffened her. She leaned closer to see what was going on by the fence, the security lights not quite reaching the place where two men wrestled, rolling away from her view. The urge to go out and help was overpowering, but her job was to stay with the Zimmermans.

One last time, she searched the darkness at the back of the yard. The night shadowed the pair enough she couldn’t tell what was going on. T.J. had had some of the best training in the world, but she hated the helplessness she felt. She shook it off and hurried toward the hallway. She needed to get Mary and Paul into the closet under the staircase—no windows and only one way in. That way she would be able to know if someone breached the lower level right away and defend them better until the police arrived.

* * *

T.J. threw a punch that connected with the intruder’s jaw. The man returned it with a right uppercut, sending T.J. staggering back against the fence. The guy rushed in, pinning T.J. then pounding his fists into his stomach and torso. One. Two. Three jabs. The breath left his lungs. Lightheaded, he blocked the next assault and brought his knee up into his assailant. The man dropped to the ground, groaning. T.J. hammered him until the prowler went still.

T.J. wanted this to end. Still feeling dazed, he stumbled toward the place where his gun lay. An iron grip on his left leg, then a sharp jerk, sent him down. He shook off the assailant’s hand and scrambled away, then struggled to his feet and faced his opponent. The man’s features were obscured by the dark. The man drew himself up tall, his arms held out from his body as he sidled to the right. T.J. mimicked his moves, taking a reprieve in order to inhale deep, fortifying breaths.

“The police are on the way. I’m not letting you leave.” T.J. made a full circle. The sound of the intruder’s raspy breathing wafted to him. “You aren’t getting away. You might as well make it easy for yourself and give up.”

The prowler cackled. “I haven’t done anything wrong. You attacked me. I welcome the police.”

“You’re trespassing on private property.”

“You aren’t going to stop me from getting my story.”

Maybe the guy had hit T.J. one time too many. “Story?”

“Yes, I work for the Texas Inquirer News.”

“That’s great. You can tell the police.” In the distance a siren blared, a welcome sound. T.J. angled closer to his Glock, slicing a glance toward it.

In that split second, the man rushed T.J., taking him to the ground and rolling toward the gun. He’d never lost his gun, and he wouldn’t let this be the first time.

The prowler kept reaching toward T.J.’s Glock. Inches from it, T.J. knocked the lanky guy’s arm away, lurched across the short space and latched on to his weapon. With all his strength, he shoved the man away from him and swung the gun around, aiming it at the intruder’s chest.

“Don’t move.” T.J. scooted back, then rose, keeping his Glock trained on the prone man.

The siren stopped, not far from the house. In spite of the cold air, sweat drenched T.J. The sound of the gate opening reverberated through the air, quickly followed by someone shouting, “Police!”

The prowler pushed to his feet, the security light illuminating the fury on his thin face. “Help. This man is going to kill me.”

T.J. suppressed the urge to laugh, because until the police could straighten this out, he would be suspected, too.

“Drop the gun,” the first of the two officers said, his own weapon on T.J.

T.J. followed his order and then raised his hands. “I’m T. J. Davenport. This man is trespassing.”

* * *

With the patrol cars’ lights flashing in the driveway, Chloe stood on the porch with Detective Matthews as two officers led T.J. and the intruder from the backyard. Both of them had their hands cuffed behind them. She might be mad at T.J. for cutting her off and rushing outside after the prowler, but the sight of his cuts, his rumpled clothing and the bits of dead grass in his hair and on his sweatshirt emphasized she’d fared better than he had. She could take care of herself in most situations, but after one look at the size of the intruder, she had to admit in this case she might not have been able to. She gave a wry smile. Maybe she did have limitations.

But with the Lord all things are possible. You kept us safe. Thank You.

Rob stepped forward, waving his hand toward T.J. “He’s the good guy. You can release him.”

“Oh, please keep them on him for a few more minutes,” Chloe whispered behind Rob.

Her friend chuckled. “Behave, Chloe.”

The police officer took the handcuffs off T.J. “What do you want us to do with the other one?”

“I want to talk to him, then you can take him to the station,” Rob said as he descended the steps.

Rubbing his wrists, T.J. plodded up the stairs to the top of the porch, where Chloe stood. “Where are Mary and Paul?”

“In the living room with an officer. They’re safe.”

“Good, because I want to be in on this interrogation.” T.J. backed down several steps but glanced over his shoulder. “And I heard the crack about keeping the handcuffs on me.”

Serves him right for playing the macho male. She presented an innocent expression. “You okay? You should be checked out by a doctor.”

He turned toward Rob and the intruder. “I’m fine. It’s happened before. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not. You know how to take care of yourself,” Chloe fired back, not wanting him to think she had been worried about him. But I was. Yeah, and that’s the problem. My focus needs to be on Mary and Paul, not T.J.

Though she tried not to, Chloe slanted a look toward T.J., his strong jaw set in a hard line, his usually neat and professional medium-length black hair messy from wrestling with an assailant. A vision of her running her hand through that hair was quickly replaced with another memory of the touch of his day-old beard beneath her fingers as she framed his face and leaned in to kiss...

Chloe shook the thoughts from her mind. That was the past. T.J. had made it clear that he had no room for a wife in his life, and then he’d flown to Washington to guard the vice president. She made a mistake only once—never twice.

“What were you doing here?” Rob asked the tall, lanky man, dragging Chloe’s attention to their current situation.

“I don’t deserve this kind of treatment. I’m not a criminal. I demand these handcuffs be taken off me, too.” The trespasser tossed his head toward T.J. “He chased me. Tackled me. I’m the victim here.”

“What were you doing here?” A steel thread ran through her friend’s voice. “Or if you can’t answer that question, maybe you can manage telling me who you are?”

The guy drew himself up even taller. “I’m a reporter for the Texas Inquirer News and was here to interview the Zimmermans.”

“At ten o’clock at night?” Chloe asked, all three men turning their attention to her.

The prowler shrugged. “The lights were on, so I thought they were up.”

Chloe folded her arms over her chest, trying to ignore T.J.’s gaze on her, which she was finding was next to impossible. “So you decided to go around to the back of the house and knock on the kitchen door? Is that your normal way to interview people? Perhaps you wanted to peep into windows to make sure people were up at this hour.”

T.J. laughed and looked back at the intruder. “Who told you the Zimmermans were even here?”

The trespasser’s forehead creased. “They aren’t? My source sounded like they knew.”

“They? More than one?” T.J. moved to the bottom of the stairs.

“Only one, but you aren’t getting anything else from me, not even if male or female.” With blood streaked across his face, the reporter lifted his chin and glared at T.J.

“Who are you? Who is your source?” Rob asked, throwing a look to be quiet at Chloe and T.J.

“I’m Artie Franklin. I won’t tell you my source. I don’t have to. You’ll find my credentials in my wallet in my back pocket.”

Rob approached the man, removed his billfold and flipped it open. “Being a reporter doesn’t give you free rein.” He indicated to the officer nearby to take the man to the station, handing his patrol partner the wallet. “I’ll be there soon.” After the pair left with Artie Franklin, Rob climbed the stairs. “Let’s finish this inside. It’s freezing out here.”

Chloe hadn’t felt the cold because energy had been charging through her, the adrenaline only now beginning to subside. “I want to know who told him the Zimmermans were here.”

“So do I.” T.J. held the door open for Rob and Chloe, and then followed them into the house.

“I’ll do my best to put pressure on him, but I’ve dealt with a few like this Artie Franklin. They will protect their sources at all costs.”

Chloe swung around in the spacious foyer. “Give me a chance to talk to him. He might tell me. I didn’t pound him into the ground and threaten him with a gun.”

T.J. quirked a grin, then winced. “Hey, you wanted me to stop him. I did.”

“The bottom line is that he found us when only a few knew the Zimmermans were staying here. We need to find out who leaked the info.”

“It only takes one person saying something for it to get out. That’s why in WitSec there are such strict protocols in place.” T.J. looked her in the eye. “We’re going to have to do the same thing.”

She nodded. “We’ll be moving from here, but I’ll check in with you, Rob, to find out what you get from this Franklin character.”

Rob frowned. “I don’t like y’all being out of contact with me. I understand the Zimmermans have two more stops in the Dallas area. Will they be attending those?”

“I think they should cancel the tour, but it—”

“Yes, we’ll be going to them.” Paul interrupted Chloe. “We have people who are expecting to see us. We’ll be attending both of those events. Mary and I have prayed about this and feel it’s what we have to do.”

Chloe spun around and faced the man. “Someone is after both of you. The wise thing to do is to put a stop to this tour.”

Mary came up beside her husband. “That’s why our publisher hired you and T.J. You’ll protect us, but more important, the Lord will.”

“Oh, great. Logic won’t sway them,” T.J. mumbled close to Chloe.

“Hush,” she whispered, then faced the couple. “We’re moving. That’s the least we can do, since someone knows you two are here. Go pack. I want to be gone in half an hour.”

As the Zimmermans mounted the stairs, Chloe shifted toward Rob. “I’ll keep you informed, but we’re going to have to be careful.” She began walking her friend toward the door.

“Aren’t you going to pack?”

“I never unpacked.”

“I’m leaving him here.” Rob waved toward the third officer standing in the entrance into the living room. “I’d feel better.”

She opened the front door. “Fine. But he isn’t to follow us. Okay?”

“I figured you’d say that. But you’ve got to promise me you’ll call if there’s more trouble.”

“I will. You and I go back years.” She watched him leave before turning toward T.J. “I may not have to pack, but it looks like you need to clean up. When we get to the new safe house, we need to decide which one of us is in charge. Both of us can’t be. It isn’t working.” The best way to resist T.J.’s appeal was to concentrate on the job and keep everything professional. Or she would find herself falling in love again.

“Agreed.” T.J. headed toward the rear part of the house.

Just before he disappeared down the hallway, a scream pierced the air.

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