Escorted By The Ranger. C.J. Miller

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СКАЧАТЬ she knew him better, she would know she was safe. He had a sixth sense about his clients. When trouble lurked, he sensed it and reacted quickly.

      “The police said they’ll run his prints and try to get an ID. He wasn’t talking,” Kit said. “Reaffirms our suspicion that he was hired.”

      Marissa took a sip of the tea her sister had set in front of her. “I don’t know why anyone would hire a man to kill me.”

      “We need to find the connection to Avery,” Griffin said.

      Jack agreed. He didn’t know enough about either woman to guess the motive.

      “Avery and I were friends,” Marissa said. “But we hadn’t talked much recently.”

      “Why’s that?” Jack asked, sensing she was holding back information.

      Marissa was tapping her heel against the floor. “Avery and my boyfriend slept together. Rob cheated on me. We fought about it. The friendship was over. I let the tabloids speculate and didn’t talk to many people about it.”

      Love triangles and jealousy were fuel for anger. “Could this be career jealousy from someone in your field?” Jack asked.

      Marissa shrugged. “Maybe. There’s always someone who misses out on a product campaign or doesn’t get a spot they want in a show.”

      “Or a stranger who became fixated on you and Avery,” Jack said.

      Marissa shivered. “Could be.”

      After tossing around a few more theories, Kit hugged her sister. “We have to pack for our flight. Unless you want me to reschedule?”

      “Is it that late already? Or should I say that early? Don’t reschedule. I’ll be fine. I’ll call you.”

      The sisters hugged and then Griffin and Kit left the room. Jack was alone with Marissa. She swirled the tea in her cup. Her eyes were dark with exhaustion.

      “I should try and go back to sleep,” Marissa said. She rose slowly, bracing her hands on the table as she stood.

      “Let me check your bedroom and bathroom. Then I’ll sweep the house again,” Jack said. He followed Marissa up the stairs, looking away from her perfectly round rear end and her robe swishing around her legs as she climbed.

      Her bedroom smelled faintly of spices. Jack couldn’t have named which ones. With the exception of the unmade bed, the room was tidy and on the gray walls were black-and-white prints of famous architectural landmarks: the Taj Mahal in Agra, the Palace of Versailles and St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. Jack checked the windows, moving aside the semisheer curtains to ensure they were latched and locked.

      “How did you know someone was in my room?” Marissa asked, sitting on her bed, legs over the side of the mattress.

      “I heard the creaking of floorboards and suspected you were either awake or someone had gotten inside,” Jack said. He had wanted to check on her in either case.

      The police had traced the location of the breach to a balcony on the second floor. The perpetrator had climbed to it and slipped inside a guest bedroom by forcing the nails from the outdated lock and opening the sliding glass door.

      “You saved my life. Thank you,” Marissa said. When she spoke her gratitude, it sounded almost sensual.

      The back of his neck heated. “Glad I could be of service,” Jack said. She must get tired of men staring at her, fantasizing about her, but it was easy to do. Her voice was gentle yet strong and her eyes were expressive.

      Marissa rubbed her temples. “I can’t believe this happened. I take precautions. I’m a private person.” She laughed, the soft sound of bells. “I know that sounds crazy, because my picture is everywhere, but I feel like there’s a public me and a private me. The tabloids dig around into my life and my relationships, but few people know me, the real me.”

      She didn’t need to justify anything to him. He could understand the need to keep secrets, whether it was because the safety of the country required it or knowing it could harm someone. “Are you telling me there’s something about the real you and Avery that could be bringing this on? Or something in your public life?”

      Marissa stood from the bed and walked to her dresser. She fiddled with the photo frames on top of it. “I don’t know. Hard to say.”

      “Tell me what the problem could be.”

      She threw her hands in the air. “Who have Avery and I angered enough that they’d want to kill me? I have two ex-husbands. I have money, but if I’m dead my brother and sister inherit it all, and I know they didn’t do this. I’ve told the police I don’t know who would want to hurt Avery.”

      Jack listened, making a mental note to check on the brother. He would have been investigated before Kit was given her security clearance and closing the loop on him would be straightforward. The ex-husbands could be involved.

      “Beyond that, I don’t know. I’ve had a few stalkers, people who send me creepy letters and make threats. Some who are borderline unnerving, like asking me to their prom or out on a date with some aggressive wording, but hard to consider that a real threat.”

      “I’ll need to see those letters,” Jack said. Leave no stone unturned.

      Marissa sighed. “I’ll ask my PR manager to send them to you. I don’t read them. I quit that form of self-cruelty years ago.”

      “We’ll figure it out,” Jack said.

      “I’ve never been more glad to be leaving the city,” Marissa said.

      Jack hadn’t been given the details of this assignment yet and her travel schedule was news to him. “Where are you going?”

      “I’m flying to Seabrook tomorrow morning for a jewelry shoot. Or rather, later this morning. It’s a small coastal town in New Hampshire. I’ve been there before. It’s a charming place,” Marissa said.

      “Who else knows your travel plans?” Jack asked. Worry pricked at him.

      Two attacks had occurred in a short time frame. Jack knew too well how persistent and devious some people could be. More attacks could be coming.

      “My agent. My bodyguards. The people who booked the gig. My stylist. My makeup artist. A few friends,” Marissa said.

      “Change the location and tell only the people who need to know,” Jack said.

      “Change the location? I can’t do that. Seabrook is the hometown of the jeweler and the inspiration for his designs. A team is on location for the shoot already. A hundred-million dollars in jewelry is being delivered and guarded by a private security firm. The details have been in the works for months.”

      Marissa hadn’t had time to fully process what had happened to her. An attempt on her life required extra precautions. “Call your agent. Have him or her get someone else to do the shoot,” Jack said.

      Marissa balled her fists and narrowed her eyes. “That’s not possible. My professional reputation is at stake. If I don’t show up to jobs, I won’t be hired for future gigs. The modeling industry СКАЧАТЬ