The Bodyguard. Sheryl Lynn

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      Chapter Four

      “Yep, deader than a party at my in-laws’ house.” Sheriff Eldon Pitts used a thumb to cock back his cowboy hat. Staring down at Julius’s body he clucked his tongue. He twisted his lips and blew a long, confused-sounding breath.

      Hunched against a wall, Frankie knew that with the sheriffs arrival she’d lost what little control she had over the situation. She chewed her lower lip. Both McKennon and her uncle had warned her to keep her mouth shut and to stay out of the way. Not that she had the faintest idea about what to do, anyway. She couldn’t see past being furious at Julius for getting Penny into this mess and terrified about what the kidnappers might do to the girl.

      She studied the sheriff. About her height, he had a big face made bigger by a huge mustache that concealed his mouth. He appeared confused, and she wondered if he’d ever dealt with a kidnapping before. Or a murder for that matter. The county population was almost evenly divided between long-established ranchers and those who catered to tourists. Drunk drivers probably made up the bulk of local criminals.

      “May I?” McKennon asked. At a nod from the sheriff, McKennon used one finger to lift the comforter high enough to see Julius’s body. “No sign of violence.” He then directed the sheriff’s attention to the wastebasket. “I think analysis will show those syringes contained a barbiturate. Miss Forrest claims her sister doesn’t drink alcohol, so Mr. Bannerman drank the scotch.”

      “Booze and downers, a lethal combo.”

      “But accidental. They expect him to pay the ransom.”

      “Is he rich enough to pay three million?”

      “His mother is.”

      “Hmm, we have ourselves quite a situation.” The sheriff clucked his tongue again. “Might be a bad thing if those crooks find out they murdered this man.”

      Brilliant deduction, Frankie thought sourly. She turned her gaze out the window. Her hope of mustering these men into organizing a search party was dying fast.

      “What is your connection to all this, Mr. McKennon?”

      “I’m employed by Maxwell Caulfield, Mr. Bannerman’s stepfather. I was assigned as Mr. Bannerman’s bodyguard.”

      A twinge of sympathy tightened Frankie’s throat. McKennon couldn’t very well sleep in the cabin with the newlyweds, but Max and Belinda were going to blame him, anyway.

      “You didn’t see anything? Hear anything?”

      “I slept in the lodge last night.” He’d assumed his mob-enforcer impassivity, but Frankie suspected it cost him dearly to admit this failure.

      “I better call the coroner then. State police, too.”

      “No!” Frankie pushed away from the wall. “We can’t have cops crawling all over. The press will find out Julius is dead.”

      The Colonel touched her arm. “The sheriff has assured me that he will do everything in his power to keep the press from learning of Mr. Bannerman’s demise. We will cooperate with the kidnappers and ensure Penny’s safe return.”

      “Not good enough. We have to find Penny right now. We can’t take any chances.”

      McKennon cleared his throat, loudly. Frankie pointedly ignored him, but like a gorilla in a house, he was impossible to ignore. Before she could react, he had her by the arm and hustled out of the cabin.

      “You squeeze my arm again and I’ll punch you in the nose.”

      Shoulders hunched, he tucked his hands beneath his armpits. The wind ripped past them. A tree limb cracked, making Frankie jump. She fumbled with the zipper on her parka.

      “You have got to calm down,” McKennon said. “I know you’re scared, but spouting off doesn’t improve the situation.”

      “If it was your sister, I’d like to see how calm you’d be.” She narrowed her eyes against the wind slicing her face. Be warm, Penny, she prayed. Be safe.

      “We will get Penny back, safe and sound. I promise.”

      She didn’t want to trust him; he worked for the man who had ruined her life. He touched her chin with a finger. His warmth startled her.

      “I promise.”

      His jungle-cat eyes snared her, entrapped her and stilled the breath in her lungs. She tried hard to remember that he worked for Max, he was loyal to Max, and he’d do whatever Max told him to do. Instead, she thought of the way he’d kissed her. He’d meant it as a joke, and so had she, but it hadn’t turned out that way. Like that kiss, his promise seemed real.

      Footsteps crunched gravel. Deputy Mike Downes approached the Honeymoon Hideaway. Pressing a fist to her aching chest, Frankie studied the other cabins. She wondered if the occupants noticed the commotion.

      Frankie and McKennon followed СКАЧАТЬ