Fearless: (McIntyre Security Bodyguard Series - Book 2) Page 16

  I take the empty chair beside Jake and dig into my food, suddenly aware of how hungry I am. We burned a lot of calories last night and this morning having sex – it’s no wonder I’m starving.

  Shane and Jake sit quietly watching me eat, their previous conversation abandoned. I realize I must have interrupted something sensitive, because now they’re suspiciously quiet.

  “I did interrupt something,” I say, cradling my coffee cup in my hands. “I can take this back into the apartment and give you some privacy.”

  “No, don’t be silly,” Shane says. “I’d much rather talk to you than to this guy.”

  “Ditto,” Jake says. “Stay. You’re doing us both a favor.”

  Shane is the oldest McIntyre sibling, and Jake’s the third oldest. In a lot of ways, they’re probably the closest of the brothers. They make a good pair... Shane’s good cop to Jake’s bad cop. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Jake’s nickname in the company is the enforcer.

  To look at him, Jake is rather intimidating. His hair is jet black, as are his irises are so dark they almost look black. He’s also ex-military, as well as a former professional, heavyweight boxer. I’ve seen him in the martial arts studio before, pummeling the hell out of a punching bag. His body looks like it’s carved from stone, his muscles sharply defined and well honed. There’s not a soft edge on him.

  And those tattoos. Jake’s arms and shoulders are covered in dark, tribal tattoos. There’s a date – a month, day and year – inked down the left side of his torso: March 5, 2005. I don’t know what the date signifies, and no one will tell me. I’ve never had the courage to ask Jake myself.

  I have to admit Jake intimidates me. He’s always been very nice to me, and he’s never given me a reason to fear him, but still, I wouldn’t want to run into him in a dark alley. I’ve seen the wickedly sharp knife he wears in a calf harness. Not to mention the fact that he never goes anywhere without his gun holstered to his chest. He’s wearing it even now. In a lot of ways, he is Shane’s muscle. The CEO can’t get his hands dirty, but Jake can – and does.

  Jake challenges Shane a lot, and I think Shane values that. Shane doesn’t want to be surrounded by yes men. He wants honesty, and he’s guaranteed to get that and more from his brothers and Lia and Cooper. But especially from Jake. Jakes always gives it to him straight.

  I have to ask. “Before I came in, you were talking about Howard Kline, weren’t you?”

  Jake frowns, but he answers honestly. That’s what I like best about him; he’s always upfront with me. He doesn’t try to sugar-coat things, the way Shane does. “Yeah.”

  Shane shoots his brother a recriminating look. “It’s nothing to worry about, sweetheart.”

  I look at Jake, because I know he’ll give it to me straight. “Tell me.”

  “Kline’s getting more and more out of control,” Jake says. “He’s drinking and using drugs at alarming rates, buying the cheap stuff from low-level dealers. And lately, he’s taken a few late-night forays into Hyde Park. That’s what concerns me the most. I don’t care what he does to himself, but when he starts making moves in your direction, I start to worry.”

  My townhouse is in Hyde Park – and there’s no other reason on Earth for Kline to go there. My heart starts hammering in my chest, and I set my food down on Shane’s desk, my appetite gone. “He’s checking out my house.”

  Jake nods. “I’m afraid so.”

  “That’s enough, Jake,” Shane says.

  Jake looks at Shane. “What? You want me to lie to her?” He shakes his head. “I’m not going to do it. She needs to know.”

  I turn to Jake. “Know what?”

  Shane gives his brother a warning glance. “Jake.”

  But I want to know. “No, Shane. I have a right to know.”

  Jake eyes me directly. “He’s been casing your townhouse. I think he’s working up the courage to break in.”

  I swear I can feel the blood drain from my face because my cheeks grow ice cold.

  “It’s okay, Beth,” Jake says, reaching out to cover my hand with his. “We want him to break in. The sooner he does, the sooner this ends.”

  “I said that’s enough, Jake,” Shane says, his voice sharp.

  I glance at Shane. “Are you planning something?”

  Shane shrugs. “I told you, sweetheart, it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

  A rap at the door has us all turning our heads. It’s Lia.

  “Hey, Princess,” she says, walking into Shane’s office with a cocky grin on her elfin face. She’s wearing faded jeans, a ninja t-shirt, and hiking boots. “Your chariot has arrived.”

  Shane’s watching me intently, as if he expects me to have a meltdown any minute. “Don’t worry about Kline, Beth. I promise, he can’t get to you. He still thinks you’re living in the townhouse.”

  If Shane had his way, I’d never know anything about Kline. But it’s my life. I have a right to know. I know Shane just wants to protect me, but I don’t want to be kept in the dark.

  Lia walks up behind my chair and puts her hands on my shoulders and squeezes. “What’s with all the drama faces? What’d I miss?”

  I stand and grab my coffee. Even though I don’t feel like finishing my breakfast sandwich, I do need my caffeine. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  Shane intercepts me halfway to the door and pulls me into his arms. “Don’t worry. Have a good day. I’ll see you at dinner, okay?”

  I nod. I should be back from UC well before then.

  Shane looks over my head at Lia. “Bring her to the penthouse when she’s done for the day.”

  “Will do,” Lia says, saluting.

  Chapter 22

  Lia and I are seated in the rear seat of an SUV, and our cab driver is engrossed in a phone conversation and not paying us any attention. I catch Lia’s attention and whisper to her. “What do you know about Howard Kline’s actions lately?”

  Lia shrugs. “Not a lot. Jake’s folks are keeping tabs on him. Why?”

  I can’t help wondering if Lia’s telling me everything, or if Shane’s warned her not to say anything. “Jake says he’s casing my townhouse.”

  Lia shrugs. “Yeah.”

  “But why would he do that, when the place is empty? Gabrielle and I both moved out.”

  “Kline doesn’t know that.”

  “But surely he’d catch on when the place is dark all the time. No mail delivery, no trash pick-up. No car in the garage.”

  Why would Kline keep coming back to my townhouse if it was dark all the time? It would be obvious to anyone paying attention that the place was vacant. Unless.... “It is still vacant, right?”

  Lia just looks at me, saying nothing.

  But I can see it in her eyes. She’s hiding something. “My townhouse isn’t dark, is it?”

  She frowns. “I’m not at liberty to discuss this.”

  “Someone’s in my townhouse? Are you kidding me?”

  The cab pulls up in front of Clancy’s. Lia hops out on the curb side and holds the door for me as I scoot out after her.

  I grab her arm. “Spill it, Lia!”

  She looks me in the eye. “What part of ‘I’m not at liberty to discuss this’ did you not understand?”

  Oh, my God. Someone’s living in my townhouse without my knowledge. That doesn’t make any sense. Shane wouldn’t sublet my townhouse – it wouldn’t be safe. And it’s not like money is an issue, at least not for him. “Don’t you dare hold out on me, Lia McIntyre. Tell me what’s going on. I swear, if Shane is hiding something from me – ”

  Lia ushers me through the bookstore doors and practically throws me at Sam, who’s waiting inside. “She’s all yours, red. I’ll be back at two.”

  “Lia, wait!” I say.

  “Sorry, Princess. Gotta run.”

  “Hey, boss,” Sam says.

  “Hi, Beth!” Erin calls, as she wobbles over in her three-inch, royal blue heels. “Let’s go clock you in.”

  Lia’s long gone,
so I have no choice but to go upstairs to the employee lounge and start my day. Sam follows us upstairs and loiters around while I stick my timecard in the machine and stow my purse in my locker.

  I’m irritated at Lia for running off like a coward. Something’s up, and she knows what it is, and she’s not telling. I probably have Shane to thank for that. Sometimes I want to ring his stubborn, controlling, over-protective neck.

  As we’re heading out of the employee lounge, I pause and look at the time clock. “Is it really necessary for employees to punch a timecard?”

  Sam looks at me and shrugs, while Erin smiles apologetically.

  Great. It’s just one more reason for me to be at odds with Vanessa. I don’t like punching a time card, so I’m sure the others don’t like it either.

  * * *

  It’s wonderful to see Erin again, even if she’s making me a nervous wreck as she teeters precariously on her shoes. And she wastes no time reminding me how much she hates them. This time she does stumble on the stairs, and Sam and I both reach out to steady her.

  I take my place at one of the four check-out terminals as Erin hovers over my shoulder, giving me pointers and watching me work. It doesn’t take me long to figure out how to run the point-of-sale terminal, and then it becomes fun. I’m actually enjoying myself.

  I love talking to customers. I ask them how they’re doing and if they have any feedback about the store and their experience shopping here. The most common response I get is that the check-out lines are too long, which is no surprise. That’s got to be one of the first things to be fixed. That, and the dress code for the assistant managers.

  I’m ringing up a young man who just bought several video gaming magazines when I realize someone’s standing right behind me. I turn to see Vanessa looming over me, watching my every move. The smile on my face dies when I see her scowl. Undoubtedly, I’m in for another lecture.

  I sigh. “Hello, Vanessa.”

  She leans closer and hisses in my ear. “What’s he doing here?”

  “Who?” It takes me a minute to realize whom she’s referring to. Sam’s standing a few feet behind me, casually leaning against a shelving unit reading a motocross magazine. “Oh, you mean Sam? Well, he’s working.”

  She crosses her arms. “Employees aren’t permitted behind the sales counter unless they’re ringing up customers. He’ll have to move.”

  I finish with the video gamer guy and hand him his magazines and his receipt with a smile and a “come back soon.”

  As the customer walks away, I spare a quick glance at Vanessa. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to take that up with Mack. Or better yet, take it up with Shane.” The thought of her doing that makes me smile, because I know what Shane’s answer will be.

  Vanessa glares at me and approaches Sam. She lowers her voice. “Can you make yourself a little less conspicuous, please?”

  Sam doesn’t even glance up from his magazine. “No, ma’am. I’m being as inconspicuous as I can.”

  “You shouldn’t be behind the sales counter,” she hisses. “Go stand somewhere else.”

  “That’s not possible, ma’am.”

  Erin’s gaze is bouncing back and forth between Vanessa and Sam, her eyes wide.

  Vanessa walks off in a huff. “We’ll just see about that!”

  I glance back at Sam, who rolls his eyes at me. Erin, who’s working the terminal next to mine, tries valiantly not to laugh as she waits on the next customer.

  Lia shows up right on schedule. “Hey, Sam,” she says, giving him a nod. Then she turns to me. “You ready?”

  “Yes. I just need to run upstairs to clock out.”

  After I turn my station over to another employee, Sam gives me a fist bump. “See you tomorrow, boss,” he says.

  Lia follows me upstairs, and I pop into the employee lounge to clock out and collect my purse. On the way out, as we’re passing the administrative office, we hear loud voices inside. I pause by the door for a moment just as Vanessa starts yelling at someone. The yelling stops abruptly, and a moment later the door opens and Erin storms out into the hallway, her face flushed bright red.

  Erin’s so upset, she doesn’t seem to notice us. As she makes a beeline for the ladies’ room, I stare after her.

  Lia shrugs. “Sounds like The Dragon Lady ripped her a new one.”

  Erin is a total sweetheart, and for Vanessa to yell at her like that is unacceptable.

  “Wait here.” I follow Erin into the ladies’ room where I find her dabbing her face with a wet paper towel. She’s shaking.

  I lay my hand on her back and give her a sympathetic pat. “Hey, are you okay? What happened?”

  Erin’s expression morphs instantly as she pastes a bright smile on her face. “Oh! Hey, Beth. Hi.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Sure. I’m fine. Why?”

  I don’t mention the obvious – that her eyes are red and her cheeks are wet with tears. “I heard Vanessa yelling.”

  Her fake smile falls, and she gives me a sheepish look. “Oh, that. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Why was she yelling at you?”

  She shrugs her soft, round shoulders. “I messed up. It’s nothing serious.”

  “No manager should yell at an employee like that, whether you messed up or not. Even I know that, despite my egregious lack of...” – and I’m air quoting here – “retail experience.”

  Erin laughs at my air quotes, and that puts a genuine smile on her face. She’s finished wiping her cheeks, and she tosses the paper towel in the trash can. “Thanks, Beth. But it’s okay, really.”

  Erin doesn’t seem inclined to say more on the subject, so I decide to let it drop. Vanessa’s always been a bitch to me, but I thought it was because I own the store, and she resents my intrusion into what she sees as her territory. But maybe it’s more than that. Maybe she’s a bitch to everyone. And if so, that’s not going to fly. Not if I have any say about it. And apparently, I do.

  * * *

  Lia and I grab a cab and head to The University of Chicago so I can meet with an admissions counselor. I’ve already applied online to their graduate business program and been accepted for fall term, but I need to meet with an advisor to sign up for classes. Since I’m going to be working part time, I’ll go to school part-time, taking two classes each semester.

  After my meeting with the admissions counselor is over and I’m registered for my first two classes – Introduction to Management and Introduction to Marketing – Lia and I walk across campus to a main road where we can hail a cab.

  It’s only four-thirty, and I have some time to kill before I’m supposed to meet Shane at the penthouse for dinner. We’re just fifteen minutes from my townhouse, which I haven’t seen in over two months. I miss the place. Plus I worry that since the house is supposed to be vacant, it’s vulnerable to a break-in.

  I glance at Lia. “I want to make a quick stop at my townhouse before heading home.”

  She gives me this withering expression as if I just suggested we run naked through the center of campus.

  “Come on, Lia! We have plenty of time.”

  She shakes her head. “Sorry, Princess. That’s not on the approved agenda.”

  Approved agenda? “Since when do I have to have my agenda approved?”

  It’s my house. Well, technically, it’s my brother’s house, but I’d been living in it with Gabrielle for the past two years until a couple of months ago. If I want to go see my townhouse, I should be able to.

  “Okay, fine,” I say, deciding to call her bluff. “I’ll go by myself.”

  I head toward the main thoroughfare, where I know I can find a cab. Lia follows along behind me, muttering under her breath. When I flag down a cab, she slips into the rear seat right after me.

  “You are such a pain in the ass!” she mutters as she buckles her seatbelt. “If we get busted, I’m telling Shane this was your idea.”

  “Don’t worry. If we get in trouble, I’ll take t
he blame.”

  It feels odd driving through my neighborhood for the first time in a couple of months. On nice days, I walked to work at the medical school library, so these streets are very familiar to me. I feel a sudden pang of homesickness – I miss the days when Gabrielle and I lived here. Life was so simple then. We worked, we watched movies during our free time, and Gabrielle made great food for us. Everything was so simple then – before I found out that Howard Kline had been paroled early.

  I shudder at the thought that he’s a free man now, walking the streets of Chicago and doing God knows what. The thought that he might try to hurt another child makes me sick. I was one of the lucky ones – I was rescued quickly, before Kline had a chance to do real damage. But not every child who disappears is so lucky. I try not to think about what might have happened if the police hadn’t tracked me down so quickly – just thinking about it leads to a deep dark hole of anxiety.

  When the cab turns onto my street, I shake myself out of my painful reverie and look around, noting that not much has changed. I ask the driver to park in the open spot across the street from my house and wait.

  He shuts off the engine and immediately picks up his phone and starts texting. I sit quietly, observing my house. It’s a beautiful two-story, red brick townhouse from the 1940s. My paternal grandparents were the first – and only – owners of this building until they both passed. When my grandmother died, she left the house to Tyler. I was just a baby then.

  By the time I finished graduate school and started working at the medical school library, Tyler had purchased a condo in Lincoln Park for himself, and he let me and Gabrielle stay here in the townhouse. This townhouse has a lot of sentimental value to me, and I hate the fact that Gabrielle and I had to abandon it because of Kline.

  Just as I decide I want to go inside and have a look around – just to make sure everything’s okay – a woman walking down the sidewalk turns up my front walk and uses a key to let herself in my front door. Call me crazy, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this woman looks exactly like me. And I do mean exactly. She’s the same height I am – five-eight. She’s slender, with pale blond hair hanging just past her shoulders, just like me.