“I know vaguely what Reid doesâas much as he can share without breaking confidentiality agreementsâbut what about you?”
“I'm part of the stealth protection unit. A lot of the women work there. We get hired by people who don't necessarily want others to know they're being guarded.”
“Why wouldn't they want someone to know?”
“Appearances, for one. Some men think it's a blow to their manhood if they need a bodyguard. It's easier on their egos if they pretend to have a girlfriend instead. Those assignments are usually temporary and go away once an immediate threat is identified and eliminated.”
“Eliminated? You kill people?”
She flinched. It was brief, but he saw a flash of revulsion shiver through her body before it passed. “We're not vigilantes, despite what people think. I'm usually assigned to corporate espionage cases. Someone thinks they have a leak, and it's my job to go in, find it, and plug it.”
She'd evaded his question, but he couldn't help but smile at the image she painted. “You're like a spy.”
“I suppose a little bit. It's not nearly as glamorous as it sounds. Most of the time I catch people at the photocopier or by searching e-mail records.”
“So, you get an assignment and have to write a follow-up report. What about all the stuff in the middle?”
“Once you're given a job, you and anyone else on your team will create a plan of attackâhow you're going to handle the problem, contingencies, contact schedules, et cetera. Bella or Payton will read through the plan, and, if they approve it, you start the job as you outlined.”
“Give me an example.”
“Well, in this last job I did, my plan was to draw the thief out and catch her in the act by creating a situation she couldn't resist. There was only one way for her to access the data. We were fairly sure we knew who she was, but we needed proof. I had my client throw a party in his home where the data was being stored, and all of that was outlined in my plan of attack.”
“So we get to make our own decisions?”
“You'll probably be part of a team at first, so while you may have input into a plan, I doubt you'll be the lead on creating it.”
“You mentioned the brute squad. What's that?”
“Just what it sounds like. While the Edge is the place to come if you don't want anyone to know you have a bodyguard, we also provide big, intimidating men like you for those who want everyone to know. Bella may start you there, or she may put you with the overseas contractors. We're guarding a film crew heading into Afghanistan in a couple of weeks. With your military background, she may put you on that team.”
The idea of going back into that hot, sandy hellhole didn't thrill him, but he'd do what it took to make this job work out. His family deserved at least that much from him.
“Reid mentioned something about that. I think he's going.”
“Then Bella won't assign you to the team.”
Tanner hid his relief. “Why not?”
“If anything went wrong, she wouldn't want your mom to lose two sons.”
Even the idea of Mom having to face the loss of another son made Tanner's blood run cold. “Do you think she cares about that kind of thing?”
Razor smiled, just a little, but it was enough to bring his attention right back to her mouth after he'd finally stopped staring at it.
“You don't know Bella very well yet, but you will. We matter to her. In fact, it was just a few months ago that she went all the way to Colombia with a couple of our men to help rescue one of her employee's friends from some drug lord who had abducted her. And Bella didn't even get paid. Payton still hasn't stopped giving her hell about that.”
“Payton. That's the older man who helps run the place, right?”
“Bella lets him think so. He's like a father to her; plus he's her primary investor. He runs in the same social circles that my parents did. Same country club, same charity balls, same number of zeros in their bank accounts.”
Tanner had sensed from his first interview with Payton that he was hiding something. Maybe his net worth was it.
Razor's cell phone rang, and she answered it. “Hello?” She listened for a moment, her skin paling slightly. “Again? How bad is it?” Her slim fingers tightened on the phone. “No, I'll take care of the damage. Thanks for letting me know.”
Razor hung up and looked at Tanner. She was visibly shaken, though he couldn't tell whether it was fear or anger that had driven the color from her skin.
She stood. “I think we've just about covered everything we can without actually doing the work. And I have to drop by the mausoleum.”
“The mausoleum?”
“My parents' house. I'm selling it. I couldn't stand the thought of having strangers tromp around the place while I lived there, so I moved out. Besides, it was way too big for one person.”
“Is something wrong?” he asked, knowing something was.
“Nothing I can't handle, but I do need to handle it, so we'll have to call it a day. If you think of any questions, write them down and we'll go over them first thing tomorrow.”
Her dismissal was clear, and so casually indifferent that he couldn't stop the rise of anger forming in his gut. “You want me to leave?” he managed to ask in a calm tone.
“Yes, please. We did what Bella asked, and I have things I need to do.”
“Then let me help.”
“No, thank you. I have everything under control.”
“You have a guy following you, and now there's some kind of damage at the place you used to live, and you think that's under control?”
“It's a vacant house in a rich neighborhood. I'm sure it's kids looking for something to cure their boredom. And we already determined that the man following me had nothing to do with my ex. It's just a coincidence.”
“Did it never occur to you that whoever this guy is, he might have his own agenda?”
She propped her slender hands on her hips, looking at him with disdain. “If he did, it was probably nothing more than wanting to ask me for cash, or possibly my phone number.”
“But you don't know for sure.”
She smiled at him, but it was full of condescension. “Listen, Tanner. I understand that you're trying to make a good impression on Bella, but you don't need to worry. She's going to keep you. You're just the kind of devoted, obedient man she loves to work with, and as soon as she finds out about your family problems, that great big soft spot of hers will open up, and you'll be set for life.”
He strained to keep his civilized mask in place, but it was slipping, and his words came out as a growl. “This has nothing to do with sucking up for a job. You need my help. I promised Bella I'd look out for you, and that's exactly what I'm going to do.”
“I prefer to do this alone.”
“And I prefer not to have to tail you again through Dallas traffic, but I'll do what it takes. Your call.”
She squared her shoulders and glared at him. “Fine. You want to help, I'll let you help. I hope you don't mind getting dirty.”
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By the time they reached Roxanne's old home, the police were already there. Her real estate agent had said she'd called them, but that had been almost two hours ago. Certainly they had better things to do with their time than fuss over a single break-in.
It wasn't until she walked through the open front door and saw the damage that she realized why they were still there.
The last time the house was broken into, she hadn't finished moving out. The thief had made a mess, rifling through packed boxes and even eating a bunch of food from her refrigerator. Some of her father's clothing might have been missing, but she wasn't sure. He'd had so much. The only reason she guessed the clothes were gone was because one of the boxes she'd packed for charity was no longer full. All the drawers in the remaining furniture had been pulled out and their contents spilled onto the floor, but that mess paled in comparison to what faced her now.
There was broken glass everywhere. Every mirror in the giant living area was shattered, as well as several of the light fixtures. Doors had been ripped from their hinges. Wallpaper had been sliced and pulled away, left dangling in spiral curls. The furniture that had been left to stage the home for sale was slashed, and stuffing littered the floor. Large flaps of ruined carpet were flung back, the padding beneath torn to shreds.
Roxanne stood there in shock, unable to process the extent of the damage. She'd never loved this place, but seeing it like this was still a violation of the few fun times she'd shared here with Jake and his mom. The sheer anger displayed through the wreckage was enough to make her shake.
“Wow,” said Tanner from behind her. “Someone was well and truly pissed off.”
She couldn't find her voice. She stepped forward, her shoes crunching on broken glass. The pieces slid beneath her foot, upsetting her balance.
Tanner's hands caught her shoulders, steadying her. “Careful.”
A man in a suit with a notebook in his hand looked up and saw them standing there. He was in his midforties, with graying hair and a slight paunch to his stomach. His tie had been loosened, and she could see the bulge of his weapon beneath his suit jacket.
He strode over to the doorway, his expression grim. “Miss Haught?”
“Yes,” said Roxanne.
“I'm Detective Planar. Your real estate agent called and reported a break-in.”
Roxanne nodded, still trying to absorb what had happened. A police photographer snapped a photo, and the flash made her jump.
Tanner's hand settled at the small of her back in a soothing gesture. She would have refused his offer of comfort only five minutes ago, but she couldn't bring herself to do so now.
Detective Planar glanced over at Tanner. “And you are?”
“Roxanne's coworker. I was with her when she got the call. Do they always send out a detective for break-ins?”
The detective shrugged. “In this neighborhood they do. We've searched the house, but whoever did this is long gone. It probably happened sometime last night. Your real estate agent said it was the second time. Is that right?”
She shook her head. “Last time wasn't like this. There was a mess, but nothing was . . . destroyed.”
“Was your security system on?”
“Yes, unless one of the real estate agents showing the property forgot to activate it.”
“We can get records from the security company, but it sounds as though you're not the only one with the code.”
“No. I'm selling the house. My real estate agent has access to it, as well as any others who showed the property.”
He scribbled something down on his pad. “I'll get a list from her.”
“Have there been any other break-ins in the area?” asked Tanner.
The detective stared at him for a moment before answering. “None that I know of, but we're looking into it. There was a lot of rage displayed here. Any idea who might be that angry at you?”
Roxanne had irritated some of her parents' friends when she'd left her old life behind, but certainly none of them would have been angry enough for this. “Anyone who knew me well enough to be angry with me would also have known I couldn't care less about this place. It's just a thingâone I really want out of my life.”
The detective's graying brows rose at that. “You're fortunate it didn't burn down, then, or we might have a problem.”
“That's not what she meant, and you know it,” said Tanner. “She's the victim here.”
“Of course,” said Detective Planar. “I meant no insult.”
“How long until you're done?” asked Roxanne. She just wanted to get this place cleaned up and have this whole situation over with.
“We're wrapping up now. Sorry to add to the mess with fingerprint dust, but we wanted to be thorough.”
Her manners kicked in, and she managed to choke out, “Thank you. We'll wait outside.”
She turned and left with Tanner right by her side. His hand was at her elbow, as if he expected her to fall into a faint at any moment.
“I'm fine,” she told him.
“I'm not. That's a hell of a mess.”
She was tempted to call a service to take care of it, but that seemed cowardly somehow, or dishonest, like she was cheating. “You don't have to stay.”
“Of course I'm staying. Only an asshat would leave you to deal with that on your own. Besides, I'm not entirely convinced that whoever did this won't come back once the cops are gone.”
“Great. I hadn't actually considered that until you brought it up.”
“Sorry, but reality sucks. I plan on being here in case it decides to come back and bite you in the ass.”
“A gentleman doesn't discuss a lady's ass.”
“Right now I'm not feeling like much of a gentleman. Part of me hopes the son of a bitch comes back.”
Roxanne turned and looked at him. She hadn't heard it in his voice, but she could see his anger in his face. His jaw was clenched, and a vein pounded in his temple. His mouth was drawn tight, as if he were preparing to bare his teeth. “Down, boy. No need to get worked up. Shit happens.”
“Twice?”
“Coincidence,” she replied, refusing to believe it was anything else.
“Just like it's a coincidence that some guy is following you?”
“One guy. And I was probably overreacting because Kurt had me followed by two of his friends a few weeks ago.”
“So you're saying Kurt is connected? You need to give his name to the cops.”