Private Bodyguard. Tyler Snell Anne

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      “Miss Smith, this is the security agent Nigel Marks sent,” Deputy Derrick said, coming up behind Oliver. “His name is—” He stopped, noticing Darling’s deer-in-headlights stare. “You okay?”

      Oliver, with a small smile attached to his lips, was about to interject, but Darling found her voice. Though she had to tamp down several less-than-pleasant responses.

      “Deputy Arrington, this is Oliver Quinn,” she said, standing. “We used to make out in my father’s Ferrari.” Derrick raised his eyebrow before looking at Oliver.

      “What can I say? Fast cars and pretty girls equal a winning combo in my book,” Oliver shot back with an easy laugh. It was not the response she had expected, but Derrick thought it was funny enough. When Darling didn’t show signs of joining in on their shared mirth, the deputy sobered.

      “Do you want me to stay down here during the questions?” Derrick asked her directly. They might not have had the best romantic relationship, but they did consider each other friends.

      “I can handle this one,” she answered. It earned another little laugh from Oliver.

      “When you’re satisfied she isn’t a threat, let me know,” Derrick said, turning to leave.

      “She isn’t a threat. You can let her out now.” Oliver moved aside and motioned to the lock. Derrick and Darling exchanged a confused glance.

      “You don’t want to question her?” Derrick asked.

      “I do, but unfortunately, I have to get back to work.” He looked at her. “I was thinking we could pick this up tonight?”

      Alarm bells as loud as the Monday-morning trash pickup rang in her head.

      “Like on a date?” she blurted, heat rushing to her cheeks.

      Oliver gave off another short laugh. “More like catching up with a few pointed questions concerning my client,” he said. Then, when she was about to decline fiercely, he added, “I need to make sure I was correct in saying you aren’t a risk. If you are, my client will press charges.”

      Both men looked at her, waiting for an answer.

      If Oliver was the only thing that kept her from receiving the potential wrath of Nigel Marks, she’d have to take up his offer. She sighed, thinking about her bad luck so far on this case.

      “Fine, but you’re buying.”

      Oliver produced a business card as Derrick opened the cell door. He handed it to Darling, never dropping his grin.

      “Would it be okay to stop by your office around seven?” he asked.

      “Do I have a choice?” she replied with one of her sweet, yet not sweet at all, smiles.

      “Of course you do, but it might be better if we could have that dinner.”

      “Then I guess that’s what will happen.”

      The three of them went back upstairs. Oliver the Bodyguard didn’t even hesitate to get into his car and leave, while Darling got into her car that had been brought to the station. She sat in the driver’s seat, trying to process all of what had happened in the past ten minutes. Fate? Coincidence? A cruel joke? She couldn’t decide which category her situation fell into.

      She might have kept wondering had her phone not buzzed with a text she had been hoping to receive. Looking at the caller ID, she couldn’t help but feel better.

      Darling pulled up to the Mulligan Motel a few minutes later with excitement coursing through her. Her caller was Dan Morelli, a transplant from New Jersey and the owner of the less-than-ideal motel. There was a Holiday Inn fifteen minutes south of Mulligan, but those who participated in not-so-legal extracurricular activities often stayed at the Mulligan Motel.

      Or people who wanted to meet someone in secret.

      “Hey, Dan,” Darling greeted him, walking into the lobby with her camera swinging around her neck. Dan had been a valuable contact throughout the past few years, keeping an eye out for certain persons Darling had cases on. Though since she had tried to stay away from the dirty-laundry spectrum of stereotypical private-eye jobs, she hadn’t seen him in a good few months. She’d paid him in cookies, movie rentals and the promise of an exciting bust in the past. There wasn’t much else to do in Mulligan for a man who hated the cold. Plus, he’d confessed once that Darling reminded him of his little sister, which apparently worked in her favor.

      Dan didn’t look up from his paper when she stepped inside.

      “Room 212,” he responded, intent on his crossword. “And you figured that out all on your own.”

      “Of course I did. You know nothing—everyone knows that, Dan.”

      He laughed but didn’t say anything more. Darling went behind the desk and grabbed the key with the chain marked 212. Some people might have felt guilty for what she was doing, but Darling could justify it easily enough. Nigel Marks had spent a few hours in the Mulligan Motel’s room 212 last night. And what’s more, he hadn’t been alone. The millionaire had left while the sky was still dark, but his mistress hadn’t checked out yet. It was time Darling paid a visit.

      She walked up the stairs and down the length of the second floor until she came to a stop at the last door. A TV could be heard on the other side, but no voices. Darling, using a method her former boss had applied in the field before, adopted a high-pitched voice and knocked.

      “Room service,” she sang. There was a Do Not Disturb sign hanging from the doorknob. If she kept nagging, the woman would answer, annoyed yet visible. Then Darling would do what she did best and question or trick her into confessing. Who needed pictures when the mistress would admit publically to the affair? Sure, it was a little brash of her and maybe not what she would have done under normal circumstances, but she felt oddly off-kilter after seeing Oliver. Even though they’d barely had a conversation.

      She knocked a few more times and waited.

      And waited.

      “Room service. I’m coming in,” she sang again in a lower voice. She slid the key into the lock and turned, an excuse for her intrusion ready on her tongue.

      But no one yelped in surprise or yelled in anger. Aside from the TV, the room was still and spotless. Maybe Dan had gotten it wrong, Darling thought. There was no luggage or bags of any kind, the trashcans were empty and all the lights were off. She walked past the two double beds and peeked into the bathroom, hoping for some kind of clue that would prove Nigel Marks’s mistress had been there.

      However, the proof she found was more than she had bargained for.

      Lying in the bathtub was a woman wrapped up in the shower curtain. Blood was everywhere.

Chapter Two

      “And you’re sure she won’t be a problem?” Nikki asked after Oliver more or less summed up his visit to the police station. He had admitted to knowing Darling, just not how he knew her.

      “I’m sure. She was just curious, that’s all,” he said for СКАЧАТЬ