UNDER THE BODYGUARD’S PROTECTION

When Elle Philips witnesses an armed robbery while standing in line at the bank, she sets into motion a deadly game of cat and mouse. Mark Denton, a security contractor and former navy SEAL, also witnesses the robbery, and is hired by Elle’s father to keep his daughter safe following the incident. And while Denton’s desire to protect Elle goes beyond professional bounds, he cannot let personal desires cloud his judgment—judgment he’ll have to rely on when the robbers’ true motives are revealed...and Elle becomes a target in the ultimate plot of revenge.

“Denton? What are you doing here?”

“I’m escorting you to the debate.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Escorting me to the debate?”

“That’s right. In light of the recent threats against you, your father has hired me as your bodyguard. He didn’t mention it?”

Her eyes narrowed further. “No, he did not. I’d say I don’t need a bodyguard, but I think we’d both know I was lying if I did.”

Good, she knew the reality of the situation. That made his job somewhat easier.

Senator Philips strode into the room. “Denton! Thanks for coming out at such short notice. I begged Elle to take a long vacation somewhere until all of this passed, but she refused.”

“There’s a chance she wouldn’t be safe on vacation, either, Senator. We still need to figure out who we’re dealing with here, but my gut feeling is that these guys aren’t going to let anything stop them.”

Elle shivered, her cool confidence leaving her gaze a moment, replaced with fear.

CHRISTY BARRITT

loves stories and has been writing them for as long as she can remember. She gets her best ideas when she’s supposed to be paying attention to something else—like in a workshop or while driving down the road.

The second book in her Squeaky Clean Mystery series, Suspicious Minds, won the inspirational category of the 2009 Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Suspense and Mystery. She’s also the coauthor of Changed: True Stories of Finding God in Christian Music.

When she’s not working on books, Christy writes articles for various publications. She’s also a weekly feature writer for the Virginian-Pilot newspaper, the worship leader at her church and a frequent speaker at various writers’ groups, women’s luncheons and church events.

She’s married to Scott, a teacher and funny man extraordinaire. They have two sons, two dogs and a house-plant named Martha.

To learn more about her, visit her website, www.christybarritt.com.

Key Witness

Christy Barritt

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Wherever you set foot, you will be on land I have given you.... No one will be able to stand against you as long as you live. For I will be with you as

I was with Moses. I will not fail you or abandon you.

—Joshua 1:3–9

This book is dedicated to all of the wonderful people who’ve believed in me and pushed me

to follow my dreams throughout the years. Your encouragement hasn’t gone unnoticed or unappreciated.

A special thanks goes out to the brave, brilliant and inspiring gang over at the Norfolk FBI Field Office. Thanks for giving me a glimpse into your world

and patiently answering my questions.

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

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

EPILOGUE

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

ONE

“Everyone down! Any quick moves and we’ll shoot. Understand?”

Elle Philips dropped onto the marble floor of the bank. The contents of her purse scattered everywhere as she hit the ground, but she didn’t care. She remained frozen, not wanting to draw attention to herself.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, her heart rate quickened. She raised her head, just enough to take a quick inventory of the situation. Two men. Black masks. Guns.

Elle knew that only two tellers were working right now, and that the manager had just left for a late lunch—Elle had passed him on her way in. Three other customers had also sunk to the floor. A frail-looking older woman, a college-aged girl and Denton. The dark-haired man had been in line behind her today. She knew Denton’s name, only because they often came to the bank on the same days, same times. Over the weeks, they’d been flirtatious as they passed time in line.

Today, they’d only begun their casual teasing of each other when the robbers had burst through the doors of StoneCrest Bank on General Booth Blvd. in Virginia Beach, Virginia. At the moment, Elle glanced at Denton. He sat only a few feet away. His perceptive eyes met hers, silently communicating the urgency of the situation. Something about his calm gaze made her racing heart slow for a moment.

The shorter of the two robbers locked the glass doors at the front of the bank. He then stepped between the customers, the barrel of his gun bouncing against his black pants. The second robber, the one who’d ordered everyone to the ground, rushed toward the tellers, a bag in hand. “If you do what we say, no one will get hurt.”

The first robber—Shortie, Elle nicknamed him—kicked Elle’s purse back to her, sending more lipstick and pens rolling everywhere. “Give me your cell phones. If anyone even tries to call the police, I’ll...I’ll kill you.”

A shudder ripped down Elle’s spine, and her hands trembled as she riffled through her purse. Most of the contents lay askew, but her cell phone remained lodged in one of the deep pockets, refusing to budge. The device seemed to hang on tighter as Shortie loomed over her.

“Come on, lady!”

Finally, she jerked the phone from its hideout. Its metal burned in her hands, reminding her that this was her lifeline to the outside world. If only she could call the police...

No, let them get their money and get out of here, she told herself. Be compliant. That’s what security experts always said. If only she weren’t so bad at embracing compliance. Still, she was levelheaded enough to know when to back off.

She shoved her phone into Shortie’s gloved hand. He grunted as he snatched it from her. Once all the phones were collected in a black bag, the man laid them on the counter at the center of the bank.

Julie, the young teller behind the counter, raised her hands in the air. Her eyes stretched wide with fear. “Whatever you want. Just don’t hurt anyone.”

The other robber, the ringleader, Elle thought, shoved his gun at the teller. “I want all of the money in your drawer. If the police show up right now, you’ll be the first one I take out.”

Just do what they say, Elle prayed. Then maybe they would leave. The police could come and get some fingerprints and take eyewitness accounts. The justice system would be the heroes when they tracked down the robbers. Elle prayed that no one would try to be heroic and end up making the situation worse for all of them.

“What are you doing?” Ringleader shouted at Julie.

Elle wanted nothing more than to lay a steady hand on the young woman’s shoulder and encourage her to just do what the man said. Instead, Elle hunkered down on the cool floor, her back against the wall. The best thing she could do would be to remain quiet and unseen.

Shortie paced over to her, his job obviously to guard the customers as Ringleader grabbed the money.

Elle tried to remember each detail so she could tell the police when they arrived. She soaked in the robbers’ demeanors, their clipped words, the color of their eyes. As a campaign manager for her father’s senate reelection bid, she was paid to pay attention to details. Shortie’s gaze darted toward Elle, and she sucked in a breath, waiting to see what he would do.

Don’t make this any worse than it has to be, buddy.

He waved his gun at her, and Elle noticed his hand trembling. The man was a novice at this. Was that a good or bad thing? The other man, Ringleader, didn’t seem nervous at all.

“I need more money than that. Open the other drawers!” Ringleader leaned toward Julie, his gun aimed at her temple.

Julie shook her head, tears glimmering in her eyes. “I can’t. I don’t have their keys!”

“What do you mean, you don’t have their keys? Can’t you get them?”

“Only the branch manager has access to all the keys. You have to have them to open the drawers.” Tears glistened in her eyes.

“You’re messing with me! Just get the keys, give me the money and nobody gets hurt.”

Denton’s strong, steady voice broke through the mayhem. “Can I see if I can help her?”

Shortie pointed his gun at him. “You know something about banks?”

Denton raised his hands. “No, but I want to help. You’re making her nervous. Maybe I can help her open the drawer.”

The gun trembled in Shortie’s hands. “I want you to stay right where you are.”

“I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.” Denton’s gaze remained level and even.

Elle had to admire Denton’s calm demeanor. She glanced at him again, at the chisel of his features, at the dark hair that formed the shadow of a beard across his face. Dark, thick hair. Tall, broad form. Put it all together, and he was the picture-perfect definition of a heartbreaker.

Elle noted that Denton wasn’t wearing his customary suit and tie today. Instead, he’d donned a black jacket over a T-shirt and jeans. In all of their casual conversation, Elle had never thought to ask him what he did for a living. Perhaps he was in law enforcement of some sort? How else could he be so calm in this situation?

Ringleader pointed his gun at the other teller. “Put your money in now!” The teller filled his bag, but then he turned his attention back to Julie. “Figure out how I can get more money.” He reached over and grabbed Elle’s arm, pulling her to her feet. The gun went to her head. “Do it now or she dies.”

Elle gasped and trembles overtook her.

“Calm down,” Denton said. He still leaned against the wall, his knees propped up, his voice and movement as calm and controlled as if he were merely talking everyone else through a training exercise. “Let her go.”

Ringleader paced over to him, Elle in tow. “Are you in charge here? I didn’t think so. You’re going to be next if you don’t keep your mouth shut.”

Elle’s throat burned. She was acutely aware of the gun at her temple. One accidental jerk of the finger and she’d be dead, just like that.

There was so much she still wanted to do, needed to do. Life came into an odd and complete clarity when the end appeared close enough to touch. Her necklace, the one her grandmother gave her before she passed, seemed to sear into her skin at the moment. It reminded her that she’d made a promise to her grandmother that she still needed to fulfill.

“I’m telling you—I can’t get into the other drawers or the vault. They’re all locked, and I don’t have the keys. The manager’s out to lunch.” Sweat glistened across Julie’s forehead.

Something hard hit Elle in the face. She blanched before sinking to her knees. The robber quickly pulled her right back up. Her legs would hardly hold her. It didn’t matter. Ringleader held her up by her coat collar.

Her cheek throbbed from where the man had pistol-whipped her. Tears rushed to her eyes as pain continued to send shocks through her.

“That’s only the start of what’s going to happen if you don’t get me more money.” The man’s hot breath hit her cheek, along with a splattering of spittle.

“Boss, you said no one would get hurt,” Shortie said.

“I’ve got this. You shut your mouth and keep the crowd under control.”

“Let me—let me...let me search my manager’s desk, see if I can find any keys,” the second teller said.

Ringleader pushed Elle back to the ground. She stumbled until she hit the wall and sank to the floor. Her hand went to her cheek, and she felt moisture there. Blood? Tears? Both?

Denton looked over at her, his eyes full of concern. “Are you okay?” he mouthed.

She nodded, grateful to be alive. But how much longer would that be the case? The robbers were obviously losing it, getting out of control. This whole situation could spiral into something much bigger than even they had planned.

“Thank you,” she whispered back.

The men were pacing now, as if trying to figure out what to do next.

“Good gravy, you didn’t know the manager was gone for lunch?” Ringleader let out an expletive and stared at his partner in crime.

“He usually goes earlier.”

“Usually isn’t good enough.” He turned back to Julie. “You need to figure out a plan B.”

“Me? Me? How am I supposed to figure out a plan B?” Panic claimed her voice, her limbs.

“You have to know another way to get into that vault.”

Julie’s head swung back and forth. “Not without a key and a code.”

Ringleader cocked the gun at her. “Think a little harder.”

She half moaned, half screamed. “I’ve been trying. I have. There’s nothing I can do!”

The gun fired. Elle screamed as Julie disappeared from sight, sinking below the counter.

Denton jumped to his feet. Elle slapped her hand over her mouth, disbelief filling her.

Julie. The robber had just shot Julie.

She lifted a prayer as tears rushed to her eyes. The seriousness of the situation hit her at full force. This was bad. Really bad.

“Stay down!” Ringleader swung around, his gun aimed at the crowd, as if telling them that any one of them could be next.

Elle’s gaze flew to the potted plant beside her. She’d seen something fly from the man’s belt when he swung around. Her eyes widened when she spotted a cell phone there. Had the robber’s cell phone really just flown off his belt and into the plant?

Elle glanced back up at him. He didn’t seem to notice the device had slipped off. If she reached her hand out just a little, she could grab it.

But if he caught her, what would he do? Slap her again? Something worse? The thought of Julie flashed through her mind.

She glanced over and saw Denton staring at her. He’d obviously noticed the phone also. What was he trying to tell her? To forget about it? To grab it? What was the right thing to do? She wrestled with her choice. Flexed her fingers. Glanced back up at the robbers. They all seemed distracted by the second teller fumbling through her boss’s desk.

This was Elle’s chance.

She willed herself to move quickly and without notice, for her motions to be as fluid as flowing water. Before she could second-guess herself, she extended her hand. She grabbed the phone and slipped it into her coat pocket.

Her gaze darted around the room. No one appeared to see her...except Denton. His furrowed eyebrows showed his apprehension.

At least she’d now have some proof of who these men were. Maybe it would help the police put them behind bars.

Elle reached into her pocket and opened the phone. She held her breath, afraid of making any noise or drawing attention to what she was doing. Her heart rate slowed a moment when no one seemed to notice her. She felt the buttons until she found 9–1–1. She prayed the man wouldn’t notice his phone was gone, that he wouldn’t realize Elle had taken it.

“Any of you want to be next?” Ringleader’s voice didn’t rise in pitch. He sounded so detached at the moment that Elle felt a chill race through her.

“She’s dead. Is she dead? Did you kill her?” Shortie’s voice, on the other hand, rose in panic. “What are you doing?”

“They’re going to pay!”

As the minutes stretched on, Elle watched the two men pace and listened to them mutter. Every second Julie was without medical care put the woman more at risk. Elle wished more than anything she could go check on the teller, that she could give the robbers the money so they’d be gone.

The phone burned in her pocket.

Had the dispatcher heard what was going on? Had they sent help?

Elle prayed that the answer was yes.

Shortie looked at the front door. “Do you hear that? Sirens. We’ve got to run before they get here, man! The police are right around the corner.”

Ringleader grabbed his bag of cash and darted to the door.

Elle breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t noticed his cell phone. No one else had been hurt.

Just as the robbers stepped out the front door¸ the Ringleader reached for his waistline. Felt the empty space where his phone was. Then he looked up. Looked at Elle. He knew she had his phone. She’d been closest to him. Certainly, her gaze held telltale guilt. The robber’s eyes narrowed before he pulled his finger across his throat.

Elle sucked in a breath. He was going to find her. And when he did, he would kill her.

* * *

Mark Denton saw the robber make the throat-slitting motion as he ran from the bank.

He looked over at the raven-haired beauty and saw that her face had gone ghost-white.

What Elle had done had been incredibly risky, but she may have just saved all of their lives—at least the life of the bank teller.

With the men gone, Denton jumped from the floor and propelled himself over the counter. The bank teller had been shot in the stomach. Blood stained her shirt. Denton took off his jacket and placed it over the wound to stop the bleeding.

“Someone wave the ambulance inside. She needs help. Now!”

Elle rushed to the door. She paused momentarily at it, as if she were afraid the robbers might be waiting on the other side for her. But she stepped outside anyway.

Denton already admired her spunk and guts. Not everyone would have handled themselves so well in a situation like this. Denton, a former SEAL, now worked special operations for a Department of Defense contractor, and even he’d been thrown off-kilter some. He knew moves that could have taken down the robbers, but there were two of them and they had guns. Plus, there were too many people who could have been casualties if something went wrong. He’d taken the restrained approach. He hoped it had been the right one.

“It’s going to be okay,” he told the teller. Her eyes drifted shut, as if she were losing consciousness. He had to keep her lucid until the paramedics got in here.

“They’re on their way!” Elle shouted from the door. “Over here!”

A moment later, two EMTs came into view, pulling a stretcher behind them. Elle closed her eyes, as if praying. This teller was going to need some prayers, not just to recover from the physical wounds but to overcome the emotional impact of what had just happened to her, too. He lifted up a prayer, as well.

As soon as the EMTs took over, Denton stood, his hands and undershirt now covered with blood. But he was alive. As of right now, they were all alive. The police began swarming the place and soon Denton would have to give his account of the incident. For now he was satisfied to know that everyone else was okay.

Elle approached him, taking in the sight of his blood-stained hands. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. That was a gutsy move on your part, though.”

“I saw an opportunity and had to take it.” She shoved her hands into her coat and pulled out the phone.

He reached for it. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

Denton opened the phone, anxious to see if the robbers had any personal identification on the device. He scrolled through the menu, but saw no names or phone numbers saved.

“Probably untraceable.”

Elle nodded and pulled a hair behind her ear. “I figured as much.”

Suddenly, the phone buzzed in his hand. Elle’s eyes met his. “Is someone calling?”

Denton noted the Unknown Caller on the screen before flipping the phone open. “Looks like a text message.”

Elle leaned over his shoulder. “What does it say?”

Denton’s throat felt dry as he read the words. He glanced up at Elle, trying to soften the message. It was no use. “It says, ‘I’ll find you and kill you.’”

TWO

Elle held a cold compress to her cheek and leaned back into the padded leather chair at the police station. All of the witnesses from the bank had been questioned separately, and Elle had poured out everything she could remember. Right now, her cheek and head throbbed, and she desperately wanted to go home, take a long bath and fall asleep.

Sleep. She wanted a restful sleep, but knew she’d have nightmares for a long time about what had happened. The violence she’d seen today was so out of the realm of her upright—perhaps uptight—little world.

One of the officers went to get her some water, so she stood and stretched for a moment. Were the other witnesses still here? Suddenly, the room she was in felt too small and suffocating.

She stepped into the hallway and heard Denton’s voice in the distance. She followed the sound, for some reason finding comfort in the man’s presence. She crept down the hallway until she reached another office, this one with the door open. Denton sat across from a detective, leaning back in his chair as if exhausted. His voice still sounded steady and strong, though, as it drifted into the hallway.

“One of the men was definitely more dominant. If I had to guess based on his speech pattern, he’s from the Northwest and most likely a blue-collar worker. He had a slight limp and, from the way he carried himself, I’d say he was in his mid- to late-twenties.” Denton spotted Elle and straightened. “Hey there.”

She stepped into the office, lowering the compress to get a better look at Denton. “You picked up on all of that?”

He shrugged, a hint of cockiness in the action. “I’m good at being observant.”

“I thought I was, too, but I didn’t notice half of that.”

The phone rang and the detective across the desk held up a finger as if to say “wait.” Elle leaned in the doorway, watching the detective’s expression change from serious to disgusted. She braced herself as he hung up and turned to them. “That was the officer I sent to the hospital. He told me that the teller just passed away. This investigation has just moved from armed robbery to homicide.”

Elle’s heart sank. She’d hoped the EMTs had arrived in time and that everything would be okay. She sank into the chair beside Denton, suddenly light-headed.

“She was saving to go to college, you know.” Julie’s bright, smiling face stained her memory. “She wanted to be a teacher.”

Denton raised an eyebrow. “She told you that? Were you friends?”

Elle shrugged. “I’ve been going into that bank every week for the past three years. You start to feel like you know each other. Her life was worth so much more than the money those men got away with.”

“Three thousand dollars is what the bank manager calculated,” the detective said. “You can’t put a price on a life. The K-9s are trying to follow the robbers’ scent now. We’re also checking all of the surveillance video from around the area. We’re going to get the sketches and description of the men out to the media in time for the evening news, we hope. Between all of those things, I’m hopeful that we’ll get these guys.”

Denton shifted in his seat. “I’m not so sure you’re going to catch them.” He shook his head, his eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. Something about the entire setup is bugging me. I mean, Julie cooperated with them. She gave them all the money she could, but they still shot her. That doesn’t make sense to me. Why would they shoot her? The dominant robber didn’t even hesitate.”

“What are you getting at?” the detective asked.

“It was almost like they went into the bank with the intention of killing someone.” Denton shook his head. “It sounds terrible, but that’s what my gut is telling me.”

An officer stepped into the room, his gaze focused on Elle. “Ms. Philips, your father is here to see you. I told him you were almost done, but he insisted on seeing you right away.”

Before Elle could even stand, her father rushed into the room. Two of his men shadowed him, remaining right outside the door. “Elle, sweetheart, are you okay? I was so worried when I heard what happened.”

She nodded and fell into his arms. “I’m fine, Dad. Just a few cuts and bruises.” She stepped back. “Dad, this is Denton—”

“Mark Denton,” her father interrupted, a grin stretched across his face. He extended his hand and pumped it up and down. “Good to see you again.”

“Senator Philips.”

Elle looked back and forth between them. “You know each other?”

Her father placed his hand on Denton’s shoulder. “Denton has worked security detail for me in the past.”

Elle’s gaze fixated on Denton. She realized there was so much she didn’t know about the man. “Security detail?”

A hint of a smile curled Denton’s lips. “I’m a private security contractor.”

Elle nodded as the truth seemed to settle over her. “No wonder you handled yourself so well during the robbery.”

Her father turned to her and nodded slowly—what Elle called his “thoughtful politician nod.” The senator added, “He’s the best, of course, because I only hire the best.”

Denton rubbed his five o’clock shadow before resting his hands on his hips. “Your daughter called 9–1–1 when one of the robbers dropped his phone. The operator heard what was going on in the background and put a trace on the phone. The police were just two blocks away when dispatch called them. I think we’re lucky that only one life was lost today.”

“That’s my girl. She thinks quickly on her feet, just like I raised her. She didn’t graduate at the top of her class from Yale because of luck.” Her dad’s eyes shone with pride.

Elle had to tell her father the rest of the story. “But Dad—”

“I know. The robber threatened you. He seemed to put it together that you were the one who found his phone. The detective filled me in when he called me.”

The detective called him? Of course he had. Her father had connections all throughout the state—the country, for that matter. An incident involving a senator’s daughter wouldn’t be taken lightly. “I was the only one close by in the area where he’d been standing. He must have put it together.”

“I’m used to getting threats. I don’t like it when my little girl gets them, though.” Elle could see the concern in her father’s eyes. But just hearing him call her “little” in public tore at the image she’d tried to build of herself as a self-sufficient career woman.

“I’m not little anymore, Daddy.”

Her father grinned. “You’ll always be little to me, no matter how old you are.”

Denton shoved his hands down into his pockets. “The good news is that these robbers can’t be the brightest bulbs in the socket. One of them did leave his cell phone at the scene of the crime. That alone should merit an article in the ‘Stupid Criminal’ section of the news.”

Elle sucked in a deep breath at the mention of an article. How could she have forgotten?

“What is it?” Denton leaned toward her.

She licked her lips, her gaze meeting her father’s. “There’s an article about me running in tomorrow’s paper. It’s a feature piece about my life and my work with my dad.” She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “If the robbers didn’t know who I was today, they’re going to find out soon.”

* * *

Denton had seen Elle’s face go from pale to even paler throughout the course of the day. But as she remembered the article, her face went stark white. The article would apparently put everything out there about her and, if the robbers saw it, they’d have all they needed to track her down.

“You can stay with us tonight.” His father hooked his arm around her neck. “I’m sure they’ll catch these guys soon. You just lay low until then.”

“Can you call the paper and see if they can pull it?” Denton asked.

“I can try, but it’s late. The paper has probably already gone to press.”

“How big of an article is it?”

Elle shrugged. “I’m not sure. Hopefully it will be buried on the last page, right? After all, I’m not that interesting. What could they possible say about me?”

Denton was sure a reporter could find a lot to say about the daughter of a prominent senator who was up for reelection. Elle didn’t seem like the naive type, though. Certainly she realized that, also.

She extended her hand. “Denton, I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, but under the circumstances...”

He grasped her hand, surprised at her skin’s softness. “I understand.”

Her father ushered her away. As soon as she was gone, Denton missed her. The woman had intelligent eyes, a courageous spirit and drop-dead gorgeous looks—petite and trim with an olive complexion, long, dark hair with just a touch of curl, and warm brown eyes. It wasn’t that he was looking for a relationship. No, he wasn’t ready for another one of those yet. But the woman was a nice distraction from the rather grueling hours he’d spent staring evil in the face.

Right now, as she left, Denton had the urge to go with her, to be that extra set of eyes in case the robbers—killers, now—somehow tracked her down. But he didn’t know the woman well enough to simply tag along. Besides, her dad was a senator. He could afford protection if she needed it.

An officer was waiting to take him back to his SUV, still parked in the lot at the bank. He needed to drive back to the Iron, Inc. headquarters. The organization, also known as Eyes, was an elite paramilitary security firm. They only hired the best—former special operations officers, FBI and CIA agents and other heroes of law enforcement. Denton was holding down the fort, so to speak, while his boss, Jack Sergeant, was on his honeymoon.

Every time he thought of Jack’s marriage, his heart panged with both joy for his friend and sadness for himself. How long had it been now since Wendi passed away? Two years? Sometimes it felt like decades, and other moments it seemed like just yesterday.

They’d been married only for three years when she was diagnosed with a brain tumor. She died two years later. They’d enjoyed every moment they had, holding on to the hope that they’d grow old and gray together. That dream didn’t happen, though.

No one had caught his eye since Wendi. So why couldn’t he get Elle out of his mind? What was it about the woman that intrigued him so much? The last thing he wanted was a relationship. He still hadn’t gotten over the heartbreak of losing Wendi, and sometimes he doubted he ever would.

His mind drifted to that article that Elle had mentioned. What unfortunate timing.

Buried. Yes, he hoped that article would be buried among others, and that the robbers didn’t bother reading the newspaper. Hopefully they could simply move on from this tragedy today, and Elle would piece back together her life as it was before she watched someone she knew get fatally wounded in front of her.

He prayed today would be the end of this nightmare. So why did he have the feeling it wasn’t?

* * *

Elle hadn’t even made it down the steps and to the breakfast table when her dad stopped her and held up the newspaper. There on the front page was a picture of Elle, smiling with her feet propped up on her desk and her dad’s picture on the table behind her.

So much for the story getting buried.

“Lovely picture, darling.” Her father kissed her cheek, but his eyes still wore a scowl. “This is great publicity careerwise, but terrible publicity in light of what happened yesterday.”

“Did they misquote me again?”

“If they did, they only made you sound better, if that’s possible. In fact, they made you sound quite genius. I only wish the article hadn’t come out now. I’m really quite worried.”

She took the paper and began reading as she walked to the kitchen for her first cup of coffee. The article profiled her work for her father as campaign manager, calling her the “brains” behind his reelection campaign. It highlighted her educational accomplishments, as well as her reign as Miss Virginia. Each of the carefully plotted-out details of her life, all which had run a smooth course thus far.

Too bad she was becoming more and more restless with each passing day. She wanted more than anything to help with her father’s reelection campaign, but a career in politics was something she was ready to put behind her.

Elle folded the paper as her mother—who already looked picture-perfect with her dark, chin-length hair carefully styled, her makeup applied and her business-casual outfit crisp—hurried into the room with a touch-pad computer in hand.

She squeezed Elle’s shoulder before sitting across from her. “Morning, darling.”

“Morning, Mother.”

She placed the computer on the table and an electronic version of Elle’s article stared up at them. “Nice article, dear. I’ve already gotten several emails about it. Bob Allen, eat your heart out if you think you’re going to win this election.”

“Bob Allen is behind in the polls by eight percent. There’s no way he’ll beat us.”

Her mother winked at her. “That’s the spirit.” She leaned toward her and squinted. “That’s a nasty bump on your cheek. You tried any concealer?”

“Not yet.”

“Be sure before your father’s debate tonight, okay?”

The debate tonight. Elle had almost forgotten. Images of Julie at the bank yesterday had squeezed out any other thoughts. How could life go on after a tragedy like that? How could her family talk as if nothing had happened?

She already knew the answer to that. If it didn’t involve politics, it didn’t involve her family.

Though her parents loved her, Elle was certain that their first thought after what happened yesterday, right after her safety, was “How can we spin this to our advantage?” Such was the nature of politics.

Elle finished breakfast and retreated to the sunroom. Work was the best distraction for her at the moment. She pulled up the email on her laptop, leaned back into the cushy wicker chair and took a sip of coffee.

Before she could get too involved with her work, her mind drifted to Denton. She’d enjoyed chatting with him every week at the bank. It was too bad that those memories would forever be scarred. But maybe it was better that way. Denton seemed like just the kind of man she could fall for—only he was the type that she shouldn’t fall for. The type who’d only break her heart. She knew the personality of someone with his job description—they always lived for the next adventure, always looked forward to taking the next risk. She’d learned the hard way that men like that weren’t the type to commit.

She sighed and began sorting through her messages, shooting off quick responses to several inquiries. Staying busy would be the best way to help her forget about what had happened yesterday.

The last message on her screen caught her eye. Spam, she assumed. That or someone from another country claiming they needed her help receiving a million-dollar inheritance.

She clicked on the message, ready to hit Delete when the words on the screen stopped her.

What do you think about dying a slow, painful death? Get used to the idea because it’s your fate. The fun is only beginning, Elle Philips. Prepare yourself for the adventure ahead.

She screamed and dropped her coffee.

* * *

Denton stepped into Senator Philip’s elaborate, stately study and saw Elle in the distance, dressed in a black business suit, clipboard in hand and talking animatedly to a group surrounding her. She didn’t hear him enter the room, so he took a moment to observe.

She had a slender figure. Tiny chin, big eyes, flawless skin and silky brown hair that fell below her shoulders. Not that he’d noticed.

He’d always known she was beautiful—anyone could see that. But it was the genuine kindness in her eyes that set her apart from all the other pretty women out there. Some females in her position would be snotty or unapproachable. But Elle was grounded, and she had a smile that would set anyone at ease.

He cleared his throat. Her head swung toward him, and her eyes widened in surprise.

“Denton?” She excused herself and walked toward him. The knot on her face had been nicely concealed, and Denton could hardly tell anything had happened to her yesterday. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m escorting you to the debate.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Escorting me to the debate?”

“That’s right. In light of the recent threats against you, your father has hired me as your bodyguard. He didn’t mention it?”

Her eyes narrowed further. “No, he did not. I’d say I don’t need a bodyguard, but I think we’d both know I was lying if I did.”

Good, she knew the reality of the situation. That made his job somewhat easier than working with someone in denial of the danger they faced. He had to admit that he’d been relieved when Senator Philips had called him this morning. Really, Denton should have assigned one of his men to this job so he could oversee operations at Eyes. But Denton knew he couldn’t trust this one to anyone else. Besides, Senator Philips had requested him personally.

The senator strode into the room. “Denton! Thanks for coming out at such short notice. I begged Elle to take a long vacation somewhere until all this passed, but she refused.”

“There’s a chance she wouldn’t be safe on vacation, either, Senator. We still need to figure out who we’re dealing with here, but my gut feeling is that these guys aren’t going to let anything stop them.”

Elle shivered, her cool confidence leaving her gaze a moment, replaced with fear. As quickly as it disappeared, her facade returned.

“I’m sorry to be so brutally honest, Elle, but you need to know who you’re dealing with here. My team of profilers has been—”

Elle placed a hand on her hip, eyes wide in disbelief. “Your team of profilers? Who are you guys, the FBI?”

Denton smirked. “We’re like the FBI, only better.”

Elle raised an eyebrow. “A little cocky, aren’t you?”

He shrugged. “I’m just telling the truth. We only hire the best.”

“And why would people want to work for you over an official government agency?”

“We pay better, for starters.”

Her father stepped forward. “He’s telling the truth. They’re the best. Former FBI, CIA, Secret Service, military special operations, you name it.”

“Excuse me for speaking about you as if you’re not here for a moment, but, Dad, you said yesterday that Denton has worked for you before. When was that? Why don’t I remember?”

“You were down taking care of your grandmother for that month before she passed. Almost two years ago. Remember we had that lobbyist making threats against me after one of my votes in the senate? I hired Denton then.”

Elle nodded slowly. “I see.”

Her father looked at his watch. “I must be going now. Denton will be driving you there.” He leaned forward to kiss his daughter on the cheek. “Be safe, now.”

As soon as he exited the room, Elle’s gaze fell on Denton. “Let me just gather my things.” She paused. “I really want to say that all of this is unnecessary. But it’s not, is it?”

Denton shook his head. “That man hardly flinched when he killed Julie yesterday. If he and his partner are after money and they now realize you’re a senator’s daughter, then my guess is that they’re seeing an opportunity they don’t want to pass up.”

Fear stained her eyes. “An opportunity?”

He nodded, knowing his words would feel like a slap in the face to Elle. “An opportunity they’d kill for.”

THREE

Denton saw Elle shiver as his words settled on her. He’d found that being direct was always the best tactic, especially in life-or-death situations. But he hated to see a woman frightened. He especially hated to see Elle frightened.

Elle seemed to brush off her chills as she grabbed a briefcase and leather jacket. “No need to dwell on that too long right now.” She nodded toward the front door. “Let’s go.”

Denton placed a hand on her back as they walked outside into the early autumn day. “I’m driving.”

“Bodyguard and chauffeur? So much for trying to live like a normal person.”

“I aim to please.”

The whiff of her flowery perfume drifted to him on the October breeze. He recognized the scent from their talks at the bank. It was just one thing he enjoyed about running into her each week. That, her smile and her subdued wit.

He directed her to his black SUV, opened the door and waited as she climbed inside before jogging around to the driver’s side. They were the last of the entourage to leave. As he started down the driveway, Elle waved at a guard stationed by a gate at the front of their house.

“Pull over a minute.”

Denton did as directed. She rolled down her window and smiled at the guard, a man probably in his early fifties with an almost completely bald head. “Happy birthday, Jimmy.”

“You remembered. You’re one in a million, Ms. Philips.” The guard grinned, obviously pleased at the attention. His grin faded, though. “Your father told me about everything that happened. You be careful, now.”

“Don’t worry. My father put the best on the job.” She nodded toward Denton.

Jimmy glanced at him, and Denton raised his chin, glad his sunglasses concealed his examination of the man. He appeared affable enough and truly seemed to adore Elle, in an almost fatherly way. Right now, though, Denton had to be suspicious of everyone.

“Take care of her, sir. The world would be a sad place without her.”

“I plan on doing just that.”

They pulled away, traveling down a lone country road that led away from the senator’s estate. Elle stared pensively out the window as they rolled along. “You know where you’re going?”

“The Virginia Beach Convention Center. The last of the debates between your father and his political challenger. About five thousand people are expected to come for the event, which will be televised on two of the three major networks and broadcasted to viewers in Virginia.”

The perfect opportunity if someone wanted to show themselves and make a statement, Denton thought. His only security detail was protecting Elle, he reminded himself. There were other law enforcement officers there in charge of providing security for the event itself. The fact that Senator Philips would be there meant amped-up security in general.

Senator Philips seemed nice enough, in a politician sort of way. He was warm, the kind of man you might want to kick back with for hot dogs and a baseball game. He was obviously affectionate toward his daughter. But Denton had always believed that charm could be deceptive and, for that reason, Denton remained cautious around the man. That charm had gotten Senator Philips elected, but it was his ability to manipulate situations that had kept him in office.

“It sounds like you’ve done your homework.”

“Don’t expect—or accept—anything less.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” Her grin softened her words a bit.

Denton glanced over at Elle. “So you’re the campaign manager for your father.”

“I am. You didn’t know that when you befriended me at the bank?”

“I just thought you were intriguing. I never expected to be your bodyguard or realized that I’d worked with your father in the past. He kept his family private. I was surprised he even approved of someone doing an article about you.” Some aspects of the senator’s family life were public—and purposely so. But many details were still kept as limited as possible, especially where Elle was concerned.

“The article was my idea. My father has had some rumors floating around about him recently, rumors that make him seem less than likable. I wanted to bring some positive PR to his campaign and make him seem more like a family man.”

“You mean instead of a womanizer?”

She blanched. “Yes. I thought if people could see the part of my father that I saw, maybe he could gain an even bigger lead in the polls. My father was actually against it, truth be known.”

“It was a nice article.” It confirmed most of what he’d already assumed about her. She was smart, talented, beautiful and accomplished. “You’re a former Miss Virginia, huh? Can you do the beauty pageant wave for me?”

She smiled and humored him with a little wave. He liked seeing the goofy side of her instead of the always poised woman that she liked to present herself as.

He chuckled. “That factoid did surprise me. I didn’t see you as the beauty pageant type.”

“I’m not. My parents encouraged me to do it. They said it would look nice on my résumé and give me good experience. And I agree. It accomplished those things.”

He glanced in his rearview mirror, checking to see if anyone was tailing them. Nothing suspicious caught his eye, but he still needed to remain on guard. Always watching, observing, calculating what-ifs.

“Is everything okay?” Elle’s facade cracked a moment as her worry showed through.

“Everything’s fine. I just have to keep my eyes open.”

“It could have been an idle threat.”

“Could be.”

“But it might not be.”

“Exactly.”

She sighed, her shoulders slacking ever so slightly. “Don’t people have better things to do than to scare or harm others? It makes no sense to me.”

“Don’t try to understand evil. It’s useless.”

“You’re right. I guess I shouldn’t even try. It’s just—why would someone steal money instead of simply working for it? Don’t people have enough to worry about in their own lives rather than making other people miserable?”

“I’d venture to say that most criminals aren’t psychopaths. These men most likely have a motive behind what they’re doing, a reason they’re using to justify their actions. It could be the money—maybe they feel entitled, think that they deserve more than they have—or they could be trying to make a statement of some sort.”

“Make a statement, huh? What kind of statement would they be trying to make with threatening me?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

“You mentioned your team of profilers earlier, but I cut you off. What did your team conclude?”

“One of the subjects is the dominant personality and the other is submissive. The dominant’s emotions were tightly under control, while the submissive was taken by surprise by the murder. But even though the second subject seemed in the dark, we believe the crime was well thought-out, the murder perhaps even preplanned.”

“Impressive. And chilling.”

“The police are working the case right now. They’re looking at video feeds from everywhere around the area.”

“Did the K-9 unit turn up anything?”

“No, they lost the scent at about a block away. The suspects probably jumped into a getaway car.”

“Does that mean there are three? A driver also?”

“There’s always that chance.”

“This isn’t good.”

Denton shook his head, wishing he could comfort her. But he couldn’t. “You’re right. It’s not. But I’m not going to let you out of my sight until these guys are arrested.”

* * *

Elle stood backstage, her arms folded over her chest as she watched the debate from the sidelines. Her dad had answered every question with educated, reasoned responses, even combining some humor into the mix. He had this election in the bag...at least, she hoped.

These threats against her had her unnerved enough. Then throw Mark Denton into the mix and she felt even more uneasy. Not because she didn’t trust Denton—the opposite, in fact. She felt more drawn to the man than to anyone in a long time. But there was no room in her life to play with the idea of romance.

Not only was she incredibly busy with the campaign, but her last relationship had completely shattered her trust in men. When she and Denton had innocently flirted at the bank, that had been one thing. But now she was going to be forced to work with the man for...how long? Who knew?

The man was handsome—too handsome for his own good, probably. He had a rakish grin that Elle was sure women swooned over. Not Elle, of course. His build was solid and muscular, and he stood at least six feet tall, maybe taller, with brown eyes that could melt the coldest of hearts—except Elle’s. The man was confident, charming and he didn’t take himself too seriously. He knew how to work a room and how to handle himself in a tense situation. He’d proven that. And Elle had always been a sucker for men like that.

But she couldn’t be now. Not anymore. Not since Preston had taken every piece of trust she had for men and shredded it like yesterday’s paperwork. Men were not trustworthy, and she had no trust to give. End of story. The one thing she feared in life was failing and letting people down. When things had ended with Preston, she’d let herself down. The humiliation and shame she felt afterward had solidified her resolve to stay single—forever, if necessary.

Denton stood beside her, his gaze scanning the crowds just as he’d been doing since they’d arrived. The person who’d sent her that email wasn’t here tonight...or was he?

She prayed that the police would figure out the men’s identities and quickly so she could resume life and focus on other, more important things.

Her best friend, Brianna, shimmied up beside her and leaned close. “Who’s your escort?”

“He’s...no one. I’ll explain later. Long story.”

Brianna raised her eyebrows, her eyes twinkling. “I can’t wait to hear.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?”

“Someone’s threatened me.”

“If someone threatens me, will I be forced to have someone who looks like him follow my every move? If so, bring on the threats.”

“Brianna!” Elle scolded. “This is serious.”

The sparkle left her friend’s eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry to make light of it. Are you going to be okay?”

“She’s going to be fine.” Elle looked up and saw Denton glance at Brianna, the corner of his mouth curled. Apparently he’d heard their conversation.

At least Brianna had the decency to blush a little.

Bentley Davis, her father’s chief-of-staff, bustled toward them. “The debate’s wrapping up. You ready for the reception afterward with our campaign donors?”

Elle nodded. “Of course. I confirmed the audio setup and the catering this morning. Everything’s in place.”

“Perfect. I left a few more pledge cards in the dressing room. Some people aren’t comfortable leaving any of their information online. Makes more work for us, though.”

“It’s no problem. I’ll have Brianna enter the information.” Bentley was always so concerned with his to-do list that he often turned people away with his off-putting manner. Elle prayed she’d never get so wrapped up in her goals that she forgot about the people around her.

As the debate ended, Elle turned to Denton. “Let me grab my things. The reception is in one of the conference rooms down the hall.”

He didn’t miss a beat as he fell into step beside her. “I’m coming with you.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

Denton stayed close as they wove between people toward the dressing room. She had to admit—she felt safe with him nearby and, even without knowing a lot about him, she already trusted his competence and skill.

Elle’s conversation with Brianna fluttered through her mind. She glanced over at Denton. “By the way, I apologize for my assistant earlier. She’s always been the one who speaks before she thinks.”

“No apologies necessary. She’s your assistant?”

“As of two months ago she became my assistant. Before that, she was simply my best friend.”

“Your best friend now works for you? Sounds like an interesting dynamic.”

“She and her husband just split, and she’s having trouble making ends meet right now. I needed an assistant so I hired her. It seems like a win-win...for now, at least.”

“I see.” He paused for a second. “Tell me more about Bentley Davis.”

Elle’s gaze cut to him, but she didn’t slow her steps. “Bentley? He’s worked with my dad for years, ever since Dad was a judge. Why do you ask?”

“Until we know who’s behind these threats, everyone is a suspect.”

“Even Bentley? He’s quite annoying sometimes, but truly harmless.” She pushed into the dressing room and spotted the papers atop her soft-as-butter leather briefcase. “Besides, if he’d been one of the robbers, I think I would have recognized him. They were strangers, remember?”

“Remember that things aren’t always as they seem, Elle. And there could be a third person involved, someone you never saw or heard. Everything that happened yesterday could have been a ruse for something bigger. There are a lot of unknowns right now.”

“I have a hard time believing anything other than that my involvement in this whole thing is random. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Let me decide that.”

She flipped through the correspondence with one hand while she grabbed her briefcase with the other hand and swung it over her shoulder.

“Anything good?”

“Any support of my father’s campaign is good.” She glanced up and smiled. “But yes, there are some pledges in here that look promising.”

She paused when she got to a sealed envelope. Why hadn’t Bentley opened this one? She slid her fingernail through the paper and pulled out a card. She sucked in a breath, noting that this wasn’t their normal correspondence.

“What is it?” Denton’s hand covered hers.

She dropped the papers from her hands. They scattered across the floor as Elle backed away.

“Elle?”

She pointed at the floor. “There are pictures of me. From this morning.” Reading on her laptop inside the sunroom. Drinking coffee by the window. Sitting pensively on the porch.

Denton picked one up. “Pictures? How did someone get pictures?”

“There was a message, too, Denton, stuck on a sticky note.”

“What did it say?”

Terror seemed to freeze her expression, make her unable to move. “It said that ‘Agony awaits.’”

* * *

“Is it really necessary for me to leave right now? Can’t I just make an appearance at the reception?”

Denton kept a firm grip on her arm as he led her toward a door at the back of the building. “More than necessary. You do understand that the person who’s threatening you was—maybe still is—here tonight, don’t you?”

She nodded, her eyes dazed. “I do, but...” She paused from her distress to shake hands with a few people who tried to chat with her about the debate. Denton urged her onward. Once she escaped from the crowd’s grasp, she looked up at him. “I don’t know what to think right now. This is just crazy.”

“The police are going to search for any evidence here. They’re sending me the security tapes so we can see who’s been in and out of your dressing room. No one, other than authorized personnel, should have had access to that area, though. I want to know how someone got back there.”

“You need to talk to Bentley.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I will. Just as soon as I know you’re safe. Which, right now, you’re not.” He pushed open the door and cool nighttime air hit them. He did a quick examination of the area outside to make sure everything was clear. Just as they stepped onto the sidewalk, a black SUV pulled to a stop and one of his agents stepped out.

Denton led Elle to the backseat, opened the door and gently prodded her inside. He climbed into the front seat and did another scan of the area for danger. Nothing appeared out of place. Without wasting any more time, he pulled away.

Elle leaned between the two front seats. “Who was that who drove the SUV to the door?”

“Sit back and put on your seat belt. And that was one of my men.”

Her harness clicked in place. “You had some of your men at the event tonight? I thought my father only hired you?”

“He did. But I always plan for the worst. It’s a good thing I did.”

The suburbs and strip malls of Virginia Beach blurred past them as Denton escorted Elle away from the Convention Center. He let silence fall while the reality of the situation sank in for Elle.

The person behind these threats was brave. Coming to an event like this and sneaking into Elle’s dressing room where they could easily be caught showed a lot of brazenness. The suspect was clearly bent on making Elle shake in her boots. But despite the threats, Denton would make sure that all this ended well. He’d see to it that nothing happened to Elle.

“Where are we going?” Elle’s voice sounded quieter than usual as it drifted from the backseat.

“To your parents’ house.”

“But they took pictures of me there. Is it safe to go back?”

“Those pictures were taken with a telephoto lens. Most likely, the photographer wasn’t even on your father’s property—not directly, at least—when those pictures were snapped. My men are going to canvas the perimeter tonight. We’re stepping up security.”

Silence stretched for a moment, until Elle finally whispered, “Denton, I’m scared.”

He softened his voice. “I know, Elle. Let me do the worrying, okay? That’s my job.”

In the rearview mirror, Denton saw her nod, but her eyes didn’t look convinced. She hunkered down in the backseat, just as he ordered. He glanced in his rearview mirror again, this time at the road behind them. Though it was dark outside and an array of headlights glared behind them, his gut told him they were being followed.

He watched the vehicle behind them, noting that it was keeping pace with them at a close clip. He needed to figure out if they were being tailed. He switched lanes and noticed the vehicle behind them did, also.

“Your seat belt is on, right?”

“Of course. Why?”

“Because this ride is going to get a little crazy.” He pushed on the accelerator and shot into the right lane of the interstate, swerving onto an exit ramp.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m making sure we’re not being followed. Stay down.”

Elle’s eyes widened just before she disappeared behind the seat. His gaze went to the rearview mirror again. The headlights were still there.

He zipped down the right lane of the highway. The vehicle behind them was so close now that Denton couldn’t even see the headlights except for the rays that illuminated up from his bumper.

A red light waited ahead. He couldn’t stop. Not now.

As the intersection approached, he didn’t slow. He remained in the right lane, prepared to turn. When he reached the cross road, he jerked the steering wheel to the left, narrowly missing the oncoming traffic. Horns blared. Tires skidded. People yelled.

But everyone was safe. For the moment, at least.

Elle’s high-pitched voice rose in the backseat. “What are you doing? Are you trying to get us killed?”

Denton watched as the SUV behind him threw on the brakes then skidded to the right.

Denton breathed easier. He’d lost them. For now. It would only be a matter of time before those men found Elle again.

Would they be this lucky next time?

FOUR

Reality embedded itself deeper and deeper as Elle gripped the edge of her seat so hard that her knuckles began to ache.

Agony awaits.

What did they mean by agony? What had these men planned for her?

The thought of death alone was scary enough. But to think about dying slowly, painfully, was enough to make panic begin to quake inside her.

She’d heard stories about people who’d been tortured. She’d always felt immune from the reaches of people who inflicted pain like that. But was anyone immune? Not really. It was simply that no one wanted to face the reality that something like that could happen to them.

Would even Denton be able to protect her? She believed the man to be capable, but no one was superman. All it would take was one wrong move.

She was right with God. She wasn’t afraid of being dead. It was the dying part that got to her.

Finally, the vehicle seemed to slow and merge in with the flow of traffic. Her heartbeat eased some. The reality of the situation wouldn’t leave her, though.

“Where’d you learn to drive like that?” Her voice had lost any sense of perkiness it may have once had. Even with some effort, her pitch still sounded dull.

“I’ve had some training.”

“What did you do before you worked for...what did you call it? Eyes?”

“That’s right. Iron, Inc. is our real name, but everyone who knows about us calls us Eyes. I was a Navy SEAL for a while before the CIA recruited me.”

“You were a spook?”

He smiled. “I’d tell you what I did for them, but then—”

“Let me guess, you’d have to kill me?”

“Smart lady.”

She pushed herself back into the seat, her head beginning to pound as her limbs throbbed. That’s what happened when adrenaline pulsed through her uncontrollably only to wither over and over again, she supposed. “Tell me about Eyes.”

“A friend of mine, Jack Sergeant, started it several years ago. We do contract work, a lot of it for the Department of Defense, but we also work for local law enforcement agencies, as well as for citizens.”

“I see. It sounds dangerous.”

“Depends on the job.”

“And what’s your job there? Bodyguard?”

He chuckled. “No, I’m actually the assistant director.”

“This must be serious if my dad hired the assistant director.”

Denton’s nonanswer seemed to be answer enough. Elle chewed on her thumbnail as they rolled down the road. Everything still seemed so surreal. Was this really happening? Maybe it was a nightmare and she’d wake up any time now.

She knew she wouldn’t, though.

“Why don’t they just ask for money?”

Her question seemed to surprise Denton. “What was that?”

“If they know I’m a senator’s daughter now, why don’t they simply demand money? Isn’t that what they’re ultimately after? Why go through all this trouble to threaten me?”

“That’s the question we’re trying to answer, Elle.”

They pulled onto the lane that led to her family’s home. Tonight, the drive seemed eerily quiet. It was just because everyone else was at the reception, she told herself. It’s where she should be.

Denton pulled up at the gate. Elle unbuckled her seat belt and leaned forward, feeling like safety was finally in sight. “Just pull forward and I’ll wave to Jimmy. He’ll open the gates for us.”

Denton crept closer, but the gates didn’t move.

Denton gripped the steering wheel. “You think he stepped away for a minute?”

“I doubt it. He’s very dedicated to his job.”

Nausea churned in Elle’s gut. Something was wrong. She knew it. She could tell that Denton knew it, too.

He put the car into Park and pulled the gun from its holster beneath his jacket. He glanced in the backseat at her. “If anything happens to me, Elle, I want you to get into the driver’s seat and get out of here as fast as you can.”

Reality hit her like cold water in the face, causing her hands to tremble. “Denton, why are you talking like that?”

“Just do what I say, okay? Lock the doors when I get out.”

“You’re scaring me. Can’t you just stay in the car? Call the police?”

He locked gazes with her. “Everything’s going to be okay. I just need to check things out.”

She nodded, even though all her instincts told her to do just the opposite.

“Did you hear me, Elle?”

She started to nod again, but instead cleared her throat. “Yes, I hear you.”

Denton climbed from the vehicle and Elle hit the lock button almost before he was even out. Her heart raced as she watched him approach the guard station. Where was Jimmy? Why wasn’t he at the gate like he always was?

Lord, I don’t even have the words for the situation. My heart is just crying out to You. You know my prayers even when I don’t.

With the skill of someone who had done this a million times before, Denton checked his surroundings, moving swiftly but purposefully.

Capable. Denton was capable, Elle reminded herself. It would be different if it were her out there looking for Jimmy while trying to keep one eye out for the bad guys.

As he disappeared inside the guard house, she held her breath. Minutes ticked by. Or perhaps it was actually seconds that felt like minutes.

Was Denton okay? Was Jimmy inside? And was Jimmy okay? Questions raced through her head so fast she could hardly keep up.

She didn’t release her breath until she saw Denton emerge. He strode over to the SUV and tapped on the window until she unlocked the door. He slid inside.

“Well?” She tried to read his gaze but couldn’t.

“Jimmy’s been shot. I called the police. They’re on their way.”

“Shot? Will he be all right?”

“He’s dead, Elle.”

* * *

Elle’s parents’ lawn became a jungle of emergency response vehicles, trolling firefighters and police officers and dizzying flashing lights. The police had already questioned both Denton and Elle, and now the crime scene unit was collecting evidence. Elle’s father and his entourage had arrived and now milled around, only adding to the confusion.

Elle looked pale as she stood on the massive porch, her arms wrapped over her chest and a dazed look in her eyes. Denton wrapped up a conversation with her father and hurried across the darkened lawn toward her. She was a sight to see, that was certain. Even in the middle of the terrible circumstances he’d already seen her experience, she maintained a certain dignity and strength that Denton had to admire.

She didn’t turn his way as he strode up the stairs and to her side. Her eyes had that faraway look still. Denton put a hand at her elbow, trying not to jar her. “Elle, I need your help.” He needed to distract her from her thoughts, also.

Some of the focus returned to her gaze as she angled toward him. The tight hold of her arms over her chest loosened slightly, but her eyes still looked strained. “Of course. What do you need?”

“To start with, I need a list of your father’s staff, his interns, his campaign volunteers—everyone.”

“Do you plan on checking out all those people? Because we have hundreds of volunteers right now. The election is only three weeks away.”

“We’ll vet them all if we have to.”

She stared at him a moment before nodding, shades of blue and red from the police cruiser in the distance lighting her face. “I’ll get a list for you if you think it will help.”

He nodded toward the front door. “I’ll also need a tour of the house and a list of anyone staying there.”

She blinked. “A tour?”

“It’s going to be your temporary home and mine until we know you’re safe. I’m bringing in another agent to guard the perimeter at night and someone else to shadow your father. We can’t take any chances.”

She swallowed, still appearing stiff. The shock of finding Jimmy hadn’t worn off yet. The death of a loved one sometimes never wore off. Denton knew all about that.

Elle stepped toward the door, her lithe figure somehow looking weighed down with a million stones at the moment. “Why don’t I give you that tour now? It beats standing out here and staring at the chaos and destruction around me.”

Exactly. “Sounds like a plan.”

They walked into the massive house—seven thousand square feet, from what Denton had been told. Two wings and no expense spared. Apparently, the senator had won several big lawsuits as a trial lawyer that afforded him any luxury he might want.

They paused in the two-story marble entryway, and Elle pointed to the left. “In the south wing, we have the kitchen, living room, my father’s office, two other rooms we use as offices when working here and a library.”

“Do you work here a lot?”

She shrugged. “We have campaign offices throughout the state, including one in Norfolk. But working here is convenient and the space is ample.”

“Your best option right now is to work here until these men are caught.”

Her expression remained neutral. “That’s what I concluded, also. That’s no problem. I can do my job from here with relative ease.” She sucked in a deep breath and slowly released it, as if regaining her composure. “Oh, and speaking of work, Bentley stays in a bedroom upstairs, also.”

“Bentley stays here?”

“Not all of the time, but if he’s in town with my father, he’s around enough that he’s practically family.” She stepped in the opposite direction. “In the north wing we have the family’s bedrooms, some guest suites, a racquetball room and an exercise room.”

“I’ll need to stay somewhere close to your bedroom.”

“The bedroom beside mine should be comfortable for you.”

They moved through the house, and Denton found out her schedule for the week—which included a huge fund-raising gala in two days. The mere thought of it caused Denton’s muscles to tighten. Big crowds, a difficult-to-control environment and at least two men who wanted Elle dead—not a good combination.

Elle paused by the kitchen, her luminous eyes glancing up at him. He saw intelligence in their depths...and fear. “I don’t have to go to the gala.”

“No, you should go. It will take some planning on my part, but we can make it work.”

She sagged against the wall a moment. “None of this seems real, you know.”

“We’re going to get through this, Elle.”

She seemed to hesitate a moment before nodding. “Yes, we will. Now, if you don’t need me for anything else, I’ll show you to your room and then get some sleep myself. I have a busy week, as you’re going to soon find out.”

“Remember—your safety is more important than your father being reelected.”

“I know.” She looked off in the distance. Denton wanted to do something—anything—to help wipe away her worries. But there was nothing he could do except offer his protection...and pray.

He’d be doing a lot of praying until these guys were behind bars.

* * *

Even in the midst of cardboard alphabet letters, multiplication tables and twenty-five giggling second-graders, Denton stayed glued to Elle’s side. No, an elementary school wasn’t the most likely place for someone to come after Elle. But Denton couldn’t be too careful.

Senator Philips sat at the front of the classroom, reading a book to the eager students seated in a semicircle around him. Elle stood at the back of the room with the rest of her father’s handlers. Her gaze fluttered between her BlackBerry and her father.

Denton had encouraged her to stay home and to lay low, but Elle wanted nothing to do with that. The police had found no clues, come up with no answers. Nothing was known except that an innocent man’s life had been taken.

Jimmy had been shot by a Glock, right through the skull. The rest of the perimeter was clear. But someone had obviously been trying to send a message—a deadly message. They’d gotten to Jimmy. Denton would make sure they didn’t get to Elle.

“‘The end.’” Senator Philips closed the book and grinned at the children around him. A newspaper photographer snapped a picture, capturing the moment. Great publicity shot, which Denton was sure was exactly what Elle hoped for.

Elle tucked her phone back into her purse. “I think we’re all done here. My dad has some meetings he needs to attend for the rest of the afternoon.”

“So what else is on your schedule?” They began walking with the entourage down the hallway. A menagerie of black SUVs waited out front. Denton made sure that one of his best men would be driving the one Elle rode in. He wouldn’t take any chances. The stakes were too high, the threats too ominous.

“I’ve got to answer some emails.” She glanced up at him and, just for a moment, Denton thought he saw a glimpse of vulnerability. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished. “Other than that, I’m not sure. I just need to keep myself occupied.”

“Why is that?”

“Because if I don’t, my anxiety might get the best of me.”

She wasn’t too proud to admit her fears or weakness. That was a good sign. That vulnerability reminded him a bit of Wendi, though she hadn’t let very many people see that side of herself. It had been a privilege reserved for those closest to her and seeing it had always had a way of making Denton feel special.

His heart panged as he remembered her bright smile, a smile that had been dimmed by too much chemo and radiation and pain. He missed that grin. No, there would never be anyone else like Wendi. That’s probably why he’d contented himself simply to casually date women who he saw no future with. It seemed safer that way.

He stopped by the front doors and waited for Senator Philips to finish shaking hands with the principal. His slick-soled shoes clacked against the floor as he headed toward them.

“Elle, don’t forget. You need to listen to Denton.”

Elle’s lip pulled down in a frown. “He’s my bodyguard, not my babysitter, Dad.”

“I know. But I know how stubborn you are. This is no time to try and prove yourself. Lay low.”

She offered a curt nod. “I will.”

Senator Philip’s gaze fell on Denton. “Keep an eye on her.”

“Yes, sir.”

He motioned to the three others with him to follow him outside. Denton saw the red on Elle’s cheeks, could tell she didn’t like being addressed like a child—probably ever, but definitely not in public. Her father probably had good intentions, just poor delivery. He took her arm. “You ready?”

She nodded, and they stepped into the crisp outdoors. A chilly autumn wind swept against the stoop and ruffled their hair. His gaze surveyed the landscape. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Still, he kept a brisk pace as he led Elle to the SUV and secured her inside, then he joined her.

The driver pulled away. “Where to?”

“Back to your parents’?” Denton asked.

Elle clicked her seat belt in place. “I really need to swing by my place and pick up a few things. Especially since everyone insists that I can’t stay there right now.”

“Your parents’ house is safer,” Denton stated.

Lines tightened at her eyes. “Of course.”

“Just give me your address and we’ll go there.”

She identified the street before looking out the window, a certain melancholy seeming to fall over her.

“Elle?”

She glanced at Denton, the sparkle gone from her gaze. “Yes?”

“I’m not going to tell you what to do.”

Her eyelids fluttered down a moment, some of the hard shell she tried to put on disappearing when she looked back up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, my job is to protect you. But you’re a grown woman. I’ll respect your decisions—unless I see a bullet flying through the air.”

She stared at him a moment before answering. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Fifteen minutes later they pulled up to a modest condo located on a golf course in Virginia Beach.

“Stay in the car while I check things out. Please.”

Elle nodded, and he slipped out. He used Elle’s key to unlock the door and slip inside. He was surprised at her soft and feminine decorations. She always came across as so professional, but her home showed a different side of her. He’d pay attention to that later, though. Right now, he needed to check everything out and make sure it was safe.

Once he’d swept the area, he went back to the car for Elle. She stepped inside and deposited her purse on the honey-colored dinette. Her eyes scanned the place with obvious unease.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something feels different.” She stepped toward her living room, her brows furrowed.

“What?”

“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling. You know, that instinct that something has been moved.” She whirled around to him. “Did you move anything?”

He shook his head. “Not a thing.”

“I’ll put my finger on it eventually.”

“Let’s get your things and get out of here.” He nodded toward the door, not liking the implications of what Elle said. What if someone had been in her condo, not to harm her but to take something—or plant something? Why would someone do that?

“I’m not going to argue with you there.” She disappeared into her bedroom.

Denton lingered in the doorway, close enough to keep an eye on her, but distant enough for privacy. His gaze wandered the wall of pictures beside him. Elle with her parents. Elle with some girlfriends. An older picture of Elle with another girl when they were probably fourteen or fifteen years old. No pictures of Elle with any men, which seemed to confirm his initial impression that she was single. Not that it mattered to him. He wasn’t looking for a serious relationship—any relationship, for that matter. Despite that, his heart still lifted slightly at the realization.

Elle charged from her room, walking toward the living room like a woman on a mission. “I think I know what’s different.”

Denton followed at a close clip behind her. She stopped at an end table and picked up a picture frame holding a snapshot of her and the senator. With a shaky finger, she pointed at it. “This is my frame but that’s not my picture.” She scrambled to remove the backing.

Denton put his hand over hers. “Let me.” He didn’t know what might wait beneath that picture. It could be an airborne disease, for all he knew. Or it could be nothing.

Carefully, he slipped off the back of the frame. His heart raced as he waited to see what waited underneath. He blinked. Nothing. Except a picture of Elle hugging her father.

“Where’d my picture go? Why would someone take it?”

“What was the picture of?”

“My sister.”

“Your sister?”

Elle wiped the corner of her eye, obviously trying to conceal the fact that she was crying. “She’s been dead for six years.”

“I’m sorry, Elle.”

“It was my favorite picture.”

“Do you parents have another copy?”

She wiped her eyes again before wrapping her arms over her chest. “Probably. I’ll ask them.”

“Where did someone get this snapshot?”

She shrugged. “Anywhere. It’s on my dad’s official campaign website.”

“Of course,” he muttered. “You have a paper bag?”

“Under the microwave.”

He walked into the kitchen and pulled out a lunch-sized bag to slip the frame into. “I’m going to have this tested for fingerprints. I’m pretty sure they didn’t leave any, but I want to make sure.”

She pulled in a deep breath, her face pale and her voice on the edge of fragile. “This feels like... I don’t understand why someone would do this.”

He resisted the urge to touch her, to try and comfort her. It wasn’t his place. But he hated to see her struggling as she was. He stuffed his free hand into his pocket instead. “You witnessed a horrific crime. Sometimes people are just sick. They want someone to pay for what happened. They’re playing a game, basically.”

She swallowed and nodded. “Let me finish getting my stuff and let’s get out of here.”

He slid the frame inside the bag. His instincts were ramped. Someone had stepped up the game. Whatever it was they wanted, Denton had a feeling they were sick and twisted enough to not let anything stand in their way.

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