Wanted: Bodyguard. Carla Cassidy

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СКАЧАТЬ target, but they suspected he had an accomplice and that’s who they wanted to identify. Hopefully, within a couple of weeks they could get them both under arrest.

      Greg Cary’s house was painted white with traditional black shutters and a row of summer flowers lining the walkway that led to his front porch. It looked neat and respectable.

      Nobody ever wanted to believe that the guy next door was a criminal. Whenever it was on the news that one of these creeps had been arrested, there were always interviews of stunned neighbors exclaiming that they never would have guessed that the quiet man next door was a maniac.

      He fought against a small wave of irritation. This wasn’t what he wanted to be doing. He was too impatient to be stuck on surveillance, but as he lifted the two suitcases from the trunk of the car he felt the painful twinge in his shoulder that had kept him on light duty for the last three months.

      Nothing like a bullet to the shoulder to slow you down, he thought. He supposed he was lucky not to be on desk duty. He supposed he was lucky to be alive.

      He definitely wasn’t looking forward to sharing his personal space with a woman. As far as he was concerned women were good for a few hours, maybe a night of pleasure, but before dawn broke he wanted them out of his bed and out of his life.

      As he reached Lana’s porch he shot one more glance next door. Nothing stirred and nobody was in sight. By the end of the day he wouldn’t be the only person keeping an eye on Greg Cary. There were at least half a dozen agents ready to rotate shifts to make sure that Cary didn’t burp without somebody knowing about it.

      Lana stood in the living room, her arms crossed and her features unreadable. “I don’t really understand why you’re here or exactly what it is you need.”

      “The first thing I need is your guest bedroom. Why don’t I get unpacked and settled in and then we can talk about how this is all going to go down.”

      At that moment Lana’s daughter cried out from down the hall. “Mama! I’m up!”

      “You go take care of the kid. I’ll unpack and we’ll meet in the kitchen in half an hour or so,” he said.

      He followed her down the hallway and couldn’t help but notice that her butt looked damn good in the tight jeans she wore. Her sleeveless pale-blue blouse exposed slender arms that held the faint blush of a summer tan. Most of the women he dated had that fake-bake tan, but Lana’s looked all-natural.

      She stopped at the first doorway on the left. “This is Haley’s room. The guest room is that one.” She pointed to the second doorway on the right, then disappeared into Haley’s room and closed the door behind her.

      She definitely was more than a little bit uptight, he thought. He sighed. That would only make his job here more intolerable.

      He carried his suitcases into the guest bedroom, a small room with uninspired navy bedding and a generic landscape painting on the wall. It would do for as long as he was here.

      The first thing he did was store his gun in the top dresser drawer, where it was out of the reach of a toddler who might get curious.

      Then he focused on getting the two cameras set up and pointed in the right direction. They were high-tech stuff, infrared for night shots and with an option that would signal an alert if any movement was detected and he wasn’t standing right there.

      He angled one toward the front of the house, where it would capture shots of anyone approaching Cary’s front door, and then focused the other toward the living room window.

      At the moment there was nothing to see, no movement of any kind, nothing to indicate that anyone was in the room. But he knew Greg was home and probably plotting his next move.

      A flash of an ancient memory exploded in Ri-ley’s head. The scent of baking cookies, a familiar body crumpled on the kitchen floor and blood everywhere.

      His chest tightened at the memory and for a moment he felt as if he couldn’t draw enough oxygen. Breathe. Breathe, dammit, a voice whispered in the back of his brain.

      It wasn’t until he consciously willed the vision away that he could draw air into his lungs again.

      He didn’t store the clothes he’d brought with him in the dresser drawers or the closet. He’d live out of his suitcase for the next week or two. Hopefully, this particular assignment wouldn’t go on any longer than that.

      With his equipment all in place, he left the bedroom and headed for the kitchen, where he could hear the sounds of Lana talking with her little girl.

      As he entered the kitchen he instantly spied the toddler in her booster seat at the table, a streak of strawberry jelly across one plump cheek and a tumble of blond curls on top of her head. Even though Riley wasn’t into kids, this one was definitely a little doll.

      “Hi, kid,” he said.

      She smiled at him. “Hi, Daddy!”

      “Her name is Haley,” Lana said. “Haley, this man is Riley. Can you say Riley?”

      Haley nodded. “Daddy,” she repeated, and clapped her hands together in happiness.

      Lana leaned with one hip against the counter. “I don’t know why she’s doing that,” she said, obviously irritated.

      “Do I look like your husband did?” he asked.

      Lana shook her head. “Not at all. Joe was blond, and he was a smaller man than you are.”

      “Her calling me daddy works well with the little make-believe world we have to build quickly.” He sat down at the table. “Is that coffee I smell?”

      She nodded, her shoulder-length hair shining in the sunlight that streaked through the windows. “I decided to brew a pot to show you that I intend to cooperate, but in return I want you to tell me everything that’s going on and exactly why you’re here.”

      She poured him a cup, then sat at the table opposite him. He took a moment to study her features. She had a cute upturned nose and full Cupid-bow lips that looked as if they were just begging for a kiss. He frowned, irritated by his own wayward thoughts.

      “Basically, I’ll be staying in your guest room, although I’ve got extra backup at night so I can catch a couple hours of sleep. During the day I’ll be manning a camera and watching what goes on next door at the Cary house, taking down license plate numbers and trying to identify anyone who comes to visit him. Everyone you know, especially Greg Cary, has to believe that I’m your new husband.”

      “That’s the part I’m having trouble with,” she said. “How am I supposed to explain the sudden appearance of a husband in my life?”

      He took a sip of the coffee, then explained. “We’ve got a cover story already in place. You and I met online about six months ago, one of those dot-com dating services, and of course the minute you saw my photo it was love at first sight.”

      She laughed and it lit up her face, making her look prettier than she had moments before. “Full of yourself, aren’t you?”

      “Maybe just a little,” he replied agreeably. “Anyway, we met online. I’m from Arizona, and we talked on the phone and e-mailed each other for the last СКАЧАТЬ