Bodyguard Reunion. Margaret Daley

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      THREE

      Chloe whirled away from the hallway window and ran to the stairs. As she descended, she drew her gun. “T.J., we’ve got a visitor.” She shouted the words and raced for the alarm system to turn it off so she could go outside.

      “Where?” T.J. rushed into the foyer, his weapon in his hand.

      “Right side of house.” Heart pounding, she punched in the off code, then hurried toward the front door at the same time he did. “I’ll check outside. You stay in here and guard the Zimmermans.” She reached for the handle first.

      Her comment stopped him. He let his arm drop back to his side, a frown slashing his face. “I’m bigger. More capable of stopping an assailant.”

      “We’re not going to get into an arm-wrestling match right now. I won’t jump the person.” She pulled open the door, narrowing her gaze on him. “I’m using my gun.”

      He charged out the entrance. “So am I. Lock the door, turn on the alarm and call the police.”

      Short of tackling him and knocking him out, Chloe had no other choice but to do as he said. But when this was over with, he would hear from her. She didn’t need protecting, too.

      She flipped the lock in place, then stabbed in the code to turn the alarm back on. Anger and frustration surged through her veins. Pushing those emotions down, she called her detective friend.

      “You wanted to know if anything unusual happens. T.J. is outside trying to apprehend an intruder.” She gave him the address.

      “On my way.”

      As she hung up, she hurried up the stairs to check on the Zimmermans and let them know what was happening. When she knocked on their bedroom door, no one called out or let her in. She heard something hit the floor and reached for the knob.

      * * *

      Gun drawn and up, T.J. crept around the right side of the house, his full concentration on protecting his client. A picture of Chloe’s furious face taunted his attention for a couple of seconds until he shoved it away. He’d deal with her anger later. His first priority was keeping everyone safe, including Chloe, whether she liked it or not.

      A dog barked in the still of night—probably two or three houses away. His nerves taut, T.J. rounded the corner, ready to duck if shot at. He searched the shadows. Something moved beside a holly bush against the eight-foot fence. A man darted out from behind the foliage and ran toward the backyard.

      T.J. gave chase, his strides lengthening. The intruder headed for the rear of the property, glancing over his shoulder at T.J., then sprinting faster.

      T.J. increased his speed, cutting the distance between them. He catalogued the man’s build—over six-and-a-half feet tall, slim, gangly, his limbs disproportionate to the rest of him, reminding T.J. of an octopus.

      The intruder lunged for the top of the fence, trying to hoist himself over it. T.J. leaped toward him and grabbed his legs as the man dangled half on this side of the property. T.J. yanked hard and the trespasser fell into him, sending them both crashing backward. T.J. hit the ground first with the intruder landing on top of him.

      The air swooshed from T.J.’s lungs. His head bounced against the ground, causing the world to spin before his eyes. The hard impact wrenched the gun from his hand, and his Glock flew across the grass.

      The man rolled off T.J. Scrambling for his weapon, T.J. drew in a breath. But the prowler barreled into T.J. before he could grab his gun.

      * * *

      Chloe twisted the Zimmermans’ bedroom door handle. Locked. “Mary. Paul. Open up.” She threw her shoulder against the barrier between her and her client. Pain radiated through her body as she hit the door again. Solid. Not budging. She stepped away to shoot the lock.

      “Coming. Coming,” came Paul’s deep husky voice through the wood.

      Chloe poised, ready at a second’s notice to react if he was being forced to let her in.

      When he opened the door finally and stuck his head out of the gap in the entrance, worried lines mixed with the exhaustion on his face, his eyes blinking at the dazzling light in the hallway. “What’s wrong?”

      “What was that crashing sound?”

      “When I got out of bed, I bumped into an end table. Why are you waking us up?” He shook his head as though to wake himself totally.

      “There’s a prowler outside. T.J. has gone to check on the situation while I secure you two. I need to come in and check your bedroom.”

      “No one’s in here. I’d know.”

      “Humor me.”

      He flipped on the overhead light and stepped to the side to allow her to pass. Lying in bed, Mary groaned and hid her face as illumination flooded the room.

      “She took a sleeping pill. After what happened today, she didn’t think she would get to sleep any other way.” Dressed in a long robe, Paul moved toward the bed. “What do you need us to do?”

      “You two need to get up in case I have to move you quickly.” Chloe made a tour of the room, inspecting the closet and the connected bathroom. She stopped at the window and peered out the front of the house before checking to make sure it was locked. Satisfied no intruder was in the room, she crossed to the door. “Get dressed. I’ll be out in the hall.”

      The muscles in her neck and shoulder taut, Chloe paced the corridor, examining the stairs and foyer below each time she passed them. Finally, when Mary and Paul left their bedroom, Chloe glanced at her watch. It had been ten minutes since T.J. had gone outside. She didn’t like not knowing what was going on.

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