Always Watching (9 page)

She took a deep breath, but before she could say a word, he took her hand. “If you won't tell me about the thoughts that caused the look of agony that just crossed your face, will you tell me why you chose this profession?”

She stiffened and he thought he caught another expression.
A flash of grief. A momentary blip that marred the smoothness of her features before she arranged them back into that unflappable expression she'd worn most of the night. “It doesn't matter, does it?”

“I know I'm just your client and you don't have to tell me anything about your personal life, but . . . tell me. Please.”

She studied him and he saw indications of some internal struggle going on inside her. She finally gave a slow nod, pulled her hand from his, and shoved a strand of hair behind her ear. “A friend of mine was killed. She was a well-known country music singer. I was a cop, not a rookie. I was visiting her and word got out where she was in spite of her excellent disguise. We were mobbed. I tried to get her away, but the crowd got to her and grabbed her and hoisted her into the air.” She blinked and shook her head. “It was surreal. I'd never seen people act like that. They just had no respect for . . . anything.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “When they let go, she fell onto the wrought iron fence that was attached to the brick wall outside the restaurant. One of the spikes went right through her and . . .” She shook her head. “She didn't make it.”

Wade's heart cramped in horror at the visual her words brought to mind. “I can't even . . . oh man . . . I don't know what to say.” Such tragedy. Yet she recited the events like she was reading a newspaper account. Her clenched fists resting on her thighs said she wasn't as distant as she sounded. “Wait a minute.” He straightened. “I remember that story. In Nashville, Tennessee, right? Shana Lee?”

She nodded. “I tried to help her, but it was too late. We walked out of the restaurant and it was like a swarm.” Her eyes took on a haunted, distant look and Wade knew she was seeing the events unfold in her memory. “Or an uncontrollable tornado that ripped through to leave devastation in its wake.” She shook
her head. “It was senseless. A tragic, completely preventable incident. If she'd had a bodyguard—”

“Why didn't she?”

“She didn't want one. She loved her fans and never minded the constant interruptions. She said if she wanted to be alone, she simply stayed home. And going out in public became a game for her too. To see how well she could disguise herself. Sometimes it worked—” She spread her hands.

“And that day it didn't,” he finished.

“Yeah.” She blinked. “One of Shana's goals in life was to help as many people as she could. She did benefit concerts, visited sick fans in the hospital, raised money for missions, everything you could think of. She gave so much.”

“She gave it all.”

Olivia nodded. “She wrote something in her will that eventually changed my life.”

“What?”

“She left me some money and said her wish was for me to help others. She'd written the will two weeks before she died. At the time, I was too mad to do anything more than throw myself into my job, figuring I was helping the people I was keeping safe by getting the bad guys off the street.”

“But?”

“But after about a year, I decided to honor her wishes in a different way. I wanted to help people by keeping them safe, just not as an officer. You see, as a police officer, the job is more about reaction rather than prevention. I mean, there's some of that, but being a bodyguard allows me to ward off the threat of harm before it actually happens.”

“It was what she wanted.”

“Yes.”

“How did you meet her?”

She paused. “She was the daughter of the last foster family I lived with.”

“The one you were with for six years? So she was your sister.”

“Yes.” She swallowed hard. “Yes, she was.”

“You were also a good friend to her.”

She stood and ran a hand down her sleek, straight blonde hair. “Not good enough.”

“Get some sleep.” He backed out of the door and shut it behind him.

A wave of exhaustion pulled at Olivia. She glanced at the bed, the adjoining bathroom, and the door Wade had just shut behind him.

The bed beckoned. She'd get her bag later.

When she awoke, it was with a start, the nightmare still clinging to the edges of her consciousness. Only this time Shana hadn't been dropped onto the fence, she'd been blown up. But then it hadn't been Shana, it had been Wade and she'd been kneeling beside what remained of him, wailing. She shuddered. “For crying out loud.” Olivia flopped over onto her side and rubbed her eyes. “Stupid nightmare.”

She saw her bag on the chair near the bed and figured Katie or Haley had brought it in to her. She must have been sleeping soundly. She glanced at the clock, but didn't need to. Her stomach rumbled that it was time to eat. Way past time. She hadn't eaten breakfast and now it was one o'clock in the afternoon.

She checked her phone and saw nothing urgent in her messages that needed her attention. She lay still, staring at the ceiling, taking a few moments to gather her thoughts and let her pulse slow down.

She couldn't believe she'd told Wade as much as she had. She didn't spill her story to clients. She didn't get emotionally
involved with her clients. And yet she found herself doing exactly that with Wade and his family.

She cared.

And she didn't want to in spite of the fact that's exactly what her now dead friend, Shana, had requested—no,
expected
—from her. Shana had died almost ten years ago and still her memory continued to plague Olivia, her friend's last words echoing through her mind as she bled to death in Olivia's arms.

“Don't die, Shana, don't die,” twenty-one-year-old Olivia had pleaded as she'd done her best to hold her friend still. She'd stared in horror at the spike from the fence protruding from Shana's chest. “Don't die.”

Shana gasped and grasped her arm. “You were right. I should have listened to you.” Blood dribbled from her mouth and Olivia wept and screamed for help. Sirens blared, help was on the way. “Shana—”

“Look for God, Liv. He's . . . there. He . . . loves you. Let him help you. Tell my family I love . . .” Another gasp, a wince. Shana's grip slackened, but she kept her eyes on Olivia's. “Carrie—”

“I'll take care of Carrie.” Carrie Blaine. Another performer like Shana but one who'd been receiving threats. One who'd also refused a bodyguard.

Shouts reached Olivia's ears. Help had arrived.

But she knew. She knew and didn't want to know. She let the tears flow freely down her cheeks.

Olivia cried out and sat straight up, her heart pounding in her throat. The dream. Again. This time the way it had originally happened.

She must have dozed back off. She sat still, gasping for breath, and let the images fade. Only they didn't fade fast enough. She got up and padded barefoot into the bathroom, splashed water on her face, brushed her teeth, and turned on the shower.

Fifteen minutes later, she towel dried her hair and still couldn't shake the dream. It had been even more vivid than usual. She stared into the mirror, but all she saw were Shana's pretty features standing out in detail. Memories of that day surged to the forefront. Was it because she'd allowed herself to talk about Shana last night?

The screams of the crowd still echoed and she pressed her hands against her ears. Even ten years later, standing in the steamy bathroom, she could almost feel the press of the hot, sweaty bodies. Feel the ache in her lungs as the crowd crushed tighter, stealing her breath and keeping her helpless, unable to get to her friend—or her weapon. Other bystanders had been horrified and tried to help. To get the rabid ones to release Shana. Only it had backfired. They'd not released her, they'd dropped her. Right onto the fence. Shana's agonizing cry played over and over in her mind.

Olivia shuddered. “Stop,” she whispered. “Stop, stop.” She pushed away from the sink and blinked, trying to dispel the images, the memories.

The horror.

She quickly changed into the clean clothes from her bag and headed downstairs to find Wade and Amy in the den, playing a game of Jenga. Stacy sat in the recliner reading a book. Wade was intently placing his block on the top of the stack when he looked up to see her. The stack crashed to the coffee table and Amy jumped up with a shriek. “I won! I won!”

Wade shot Olivia a rueful look.

“Sorry,” she murmured but couldn't hide the smile curling her lips.

He shrugged. “It's okay. I just have to make her bed for her for the next week.”

Amy did a little dance and poked her finger at her dad while
she mocked him. He grabbed her with a growl and tackled her to the floor, gently, taking care not to hurt her, then tickled her until she begged for mercy. He let her go and the preteen lay on the floor laughing in between her gasps.

Olivia watched their interaction and had a brief flash of her own father pushing her on a swing in a park on a clear summer day. She blinked. Where had that come from? She shut the memory down. Even now, all these years later, it hurt to think about what could have been, had her parents not been killed, how different her life would be. But what was the point in dwelling on it? It did no good and just brought up feelings better left unfelt.

“You hungry?” Wade asked Olivia.

“Starving.” She looked around. “Where's Katie?”

“She's patrolling the grounds every so often. She left just a minute before you came down.”

Olivia nodded. That was standard operating procedure. She watched the workers installing the alarm system. She'd gotten a list of names from the person she'd hired and had a background check done on each one. Nothing suspicious had popped up on the three men and one woman, and she felt confident the finished product would meet her specifications. She knew Wade resented the need for the improvements, but she appreciated him holding his tongue.

Wade clasped his hands in front of him. “Haley left and said she was going to the hospital to check on Maddy, get some rest, and would be back at midnight tonight.”

Olivia nodded. “Good.”

Wade stood. “Follow me and I'll feed you.”

“Can me and Stacy have some ice cream?” Amy asked.

“May Stacy and I. And sure.”

Amy and Stacy trailed them to the kitchen where Wade opened
the refrigerator and pulled out a plate of sub sandwiches. He handed them to Olivia. “Will this work?”

“Like a charm. Thanks.”

“Martha made them before she left to run some errands. I usually hang out with Amy on Saturdays, and Martha does whatever she wants to do without worrying about us. Chips are next to the coffeemaker.”

She set the tray on the counter and took one of the sandwiches, placed it on a paper plate, and grabbed a bag of Doritos. She seated herself at the table while Wade scooped a generous helping of ice cream for Amy and Stacy.

Olivia glanced at Wade. “Did you get some sleep?”

“A little. I don't seem to need much anyway.”

Olivia nodded and watched the girls devouring their ice cream. “So what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

Wade shrugged. “Just hanging out here. Thought we'd take a swim in the pool.”

Olivia tensed. Swimming was outside. But it was behind the house and surrounded by a fence. She nodded. “Sounds like a good plan. We can work with that.”

“Would you like to join us?”

Olivia hoped she hid her shudder. “No thanks. I'll stick to watching the area, but you three have fun.”

He studied her for a moment, then nodded. “All right then.”

Amy finished the last bite of her ice cream and stood. “Come on, Stacy, let's go get our bathing suits on.” The girls raced out of the kitchen and Olivia finished her sandwich while Wade sat silent.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

His eyes flicked up to hers. “Who this person is.”

Of course. “I have a recommendation.”

“What?”

“Enjoy the time with the girls, don't think about Thursday night or last night. Just leave the worrying to me and my team, and live your life.”

He pursed his lips and gave a slow nod. “Easier said than done, I think.” The girls bounded into the kitchen, dressed in swimsuits, towels slung around their necks. Wade smiled at their exuberance, then swung his gaze back to hers. “But I think it's good advice for now.”

He rose. “Give me a few minutes to change. I'll be back in just a sec.” He left and Olivia let a slow breath escape her lips even as her stomach churned. She'd rather face a ticking bomb than a swimming pool. “You guys better know how to swim really well,” she muttered. Because there was no way she was jumping in the water.