Saving Sophie: Book Seven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series (35 page)

“Nothing’s activated, but he’s out there. He has to be,” Shane muttered.

“Let’s call Owens—” He turned when Murphy whined, wagging his tail. Sophie stood by the couch, her hands clasped and her face pale.

“What’s going on?” She crouched down, petting Murphy as he nuzzled her cheek, leaning against her.

He hated seeing her afraid. “Murphy must’ve smelled something when he was outside.”

“The man who caused my accident is out there.”

“Not necessarily—”

She stood. “Yes he his.”

He sighed, not bothering to argue when he would only be lying. “Shane’s calling Detective Owens.” He gestured to their friend, who’d turned his back to talk to the detective on the phone. “Nothing activated, so he’s not on the property.”

She crossed her arms. “What are we going to do?”

He walked to her, pulling her close, kissing the top of her head. “Wait and see how Owens wants to handle this.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Shane hung up and turned, facing them. “Owens will send a unit out to check the area, but that’s all they can do without any confirmed activity.”

He struggled to keep his frustration at bay, giving a quick nod of his head, not wanting to scare Sophie any more than she already was. “See? Even the cops aren’t too worried about it.” He took her hand. “Let’s stick to the plan and start a movie while we wait to see what the cops find.”

Shane nodded. “Sounds good to me. I’m pretty sure it’s my turn to pick.”

“We’ll go make the popcorn,” Stone added.

“I don’t want popcorn,” Sophie said.

“I do.” He could care less about popcorn or the damn movie, but he wanted the fear to vanish from her eyes. Keeping her busy helped.

“I wouldn’t mind popcorn—with real butter if you’ve got it,” Shane chimed in. “Or maybe the caramel stuff you put on that one batch.”

Sophie nodded, too polite to tell their guest no. “Sure.”

He walked with her to the kitchen, helping her pop the kernels old-fashioned-style on the stovetop and melt butter and brown sugar together. As he did, he glanced at the monitor in the living room to see two officers moving toward the canyons in the right quadrant of the screen.

Rain poured in blinding sheets as he fought his way
up the canyon pass. Sliding back a step, he caught himself on a sharp rock, swearing when he scraped his palm. He wiped the thick mud on his shirt and kept going, determined to finish this once and for all. He’d waited for days, holding out for the perfect opportunity to deal with Sophie McCabe, but she was never alone. Paparazzi loitered outside her jewelry store on a daily basis, and once she hunkered down in her ex’s house for the night it was impossible to get a clear shot on her through the blackout shades.

Tonight, shades, surveillance cameras, and bodyguards wouldn’t be getting in the way. The weather sucked, but he was going to use the downpour to his advantage. There would be no footprints to track, and his scent would be difficult if not impossible to follow when the cops realized they had a triple murder on their hands. The contract was for Sophie, but Eric would be getting a three-for-one deal.

The stupid bastard was crazy, calling everyday with threats, ranting his demands. If Winthrop kept it up he was going to get them both caught. It was bad enough he was dealing with security lights, barking dogs, and Los Angeles PD every time he came up here attempting to do his job. The last thing he needed to worry about was the lunatic artist with the big mouth. Eric Winthrop was a loose end he would have to deal with after he finished up and collected his cash.

Slightly winded, he made it to the top of the rise, hunkering low by one of the bushes, careful to avoid the cameras scattered around the property. He blinked rapidly as water dripped in his eyes, noting that the second vehicle belonging to the man who came to stay in the evenings wasn’t there. “Perfect.” Time to make this happen. He inched forward, stopping shy of the sensors he’d tripped the other night, lifted his weapon, aimed, fired, and hit the first video camera and floodlight, then the second set, third, and fourth. He sprinted forward, well aware that the clock was officially ticking. He came to a stop by the Mustang and fired on the front door’s doorknob, rendering the lock useless, weakening the structure for a quick entrance.

Staring through his scope, he moved forward again, entering the dark, quiet house.

~~~~

Stone snuggled Sophie on the couch while he watched TV and she flipped through one of the hundred bridal magazines Abby had dropped off at McCabe Jewelry. Not even twenty-four hours had passed since he and Sophie decided to do the whole ceremony thing, and she and her pal were in full planning mode, calling each other at least every half hour with some random idea.

“What do you think of these hydrangeas?”

He glanced down at the deep pink flowers she pointed to on the page. “I think I like whatever you do.”

Smiling, she rolled her eyes. “That’s what you keep saying.”

She’d wanted his thoughts on cream-colored candles versus white, traditional cake toppers or something a little more fun, invitations, and the little gift deals for their guests—and that was just in the last fifteen minutes. They were having a small ceremony on the beach and the after-party here on the cliffs in some rented tent. Why the hell they couldn’t have burgers on the grill instead of a sit-down meal was still a mystery to him. He kissed the tip of her nose. “What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s not very helpful. You’re allowed to have an opinion. This is your wedding too.”

“Soph.” He pulled her closer, wrapping his arm tighter around her. “You’ve got great taste. I know whatever you pick out is going to be beautiful.”

“Thank you, but I want you to be happy as well.”

“Are you my wife?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love me?”

“You know I do.”

“Then I’m happy.”

“Aww, you’re so sweet.” She gripped his jaw gently, kissing him.

He pulled her back for more before she could ease away. “How sweet?”

She grinned. “I have three weeks to pull this wedding together. I’ll show you how amazing I think you are later.”

“Promise?”

She slid her tongue along his bottom lip. “Absolutely.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I hope you will.” She resettled herself against his side, her smile dimming as she glanced toward the monitor before giving her attention back to the magazine.

He brushed his thumb along her wrist, wanting to soothe. He’d caught her looking at the screen more than once since they got home. He’d suggested dinner out to help chase away the tension, but she’d turned him down, wanting to get home and pour over all the stuff Abby gave her.

“Do you want me to check on the roast or something? It smells like it’s ready.”

“Mmm, no thanks.” She shook her head as she bookmarked the page with the hydrangeas. “We’ve got at least another forty-five minutes before we eat.”

He was looking forward to tender roast beef and vegetables on this raw, soggy night. “Okay.” He settled back against the cushion, sighing, when his cell phone started ringing. Tipping the phone, he peeked at the readout. Shane. “Yeah,” he answered.

“Hey, man. I’m running behind. The rain’s pouring and the traffic’s awful. I’m probably fifteen or twenty minutes out yet.”

He glanced at his watch. “No problem. How’d the meeting go?”

“Looks like I’ve officially been assigned to the Appalachia Project.”

He’d dodged a six-month stint in rural Western Kentucky, and he couldn’t say he was sorry after the nightmare reports that had come back time and time again. “Should be fun.”

“Can’t wait. Sounds like it’ll be…interesting.”

“When do you leave?”

“Couple days after your wedding.”

“That’s right around the corner.”

“Tell me about it. We’ll talk when I get there. I can’t see for shit. I just wanted to let you know I’m on my way.”

“Thanks. See you soon.” He looked at Sophie, who was staring at him with troubled eyes. He shoved his phone back into his holder, next to his gun.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Shane’s running late. The rain’s slowing him up a bit.”

“Oh.”

He pulled the magazine from her white-knuckle grip. “Soph, relax. Everything’s fine.” Despite the fun of wedding plans, she’d been on edge since the cops drove away last night. They hadn’t found anything new, but reminding her so didn’t seem to ease her mind.

“It’s not fine, Stone. He was here.”

“Maybe.”

“We both know he was. Murphy’s never barked like that before.”

“Soph, they didn’t spot any fresh tracks.” But he had this morning when he went out for a look on his own. “And Murphy’s not barking now.”

They both looked over at the dog curled up and snoring in his bed.

“Yes, but—”

He shook his head. “No buts. Come here.”

“I’m sitting right next to you.”

“Closer.” He grabbed her around the waist, careful not to hurt her ribs as he pulled her into his lap so she straddled him.

“Stone.”

Ignoring her warning tone, he took her wrists, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. “There. Much better.”

She stared at him as he slid her skirt higher up her legs. “Stone,” she said again.

He clutched her firm ass, bringing her closer. “What?”

“What are you doing?”

He raised his brow, moving his hand, rubbing his fingers over the crotch of her sexy purple panties. “I’ll give you one guess.” He nipped her chin.

Her pretty eyes went instantly dark with desire. “Shane will be here soon.”

“He’s not here yet.” He pushed the barrier aside, invading silky fire.

She arched back, moaning.

He kissed her neck as she purred in her throat next to his ear. “Make out with me for a while, Soph.”

She cupped his cheeks, her breathing ragged as she pulled his mouth to hers, teasing his tongue into a dance.

He groaned, following her lead, rubbing her with his thumb, bringing her up slowly.

“Let’s go to bed,” she panted out, gyrating against him, driving him crazy.

He didn’t like being away from the monitors when Shane wasn’t here. “What’s wrong with the couch?” He moved in the rhythm he knew would get her off.

“You’re trying to distract me,” she shuddered out.

“So?”

She bit her bottom lip, whimpering, digging her nails into his shoulders. “You’re going to make me cum.”

“I know.” He kept his pace steady, holding her gaze, watching as she stiffened on a long moan, pulsing against his hand. He brought her higher, not yet ready to bring her down, smiling his triumph when she clutched at him frantically, crying out loudly for the second time.

She sagged against him, her hot, steady breaths heating his neck. “I really like it when you do that.”

He grinned.

She sat up, flushed and smiling, unbuttoning his pants. “Do you want a turn?”

“I’ll never refuse a—” He stopped when he heard the first pop, then the next and the one after that, recognizing the sound of muted gunfire. “Shit.” He rushed up, setting Sophie on her feet, grabbing her hand as he shut off the living room light, watching the footage on the monitor go black with each gunshot “Fuck. Let’s go. Come on, Murphy.” He shielded Sophie’s body, running with her and the dog down the hall while bullets penetrated the door, shattering vases and other fragile knick-knacks as they ricocheted through the room.

“Stay down! Stay down!” He shouted as Sophie screamed, covering her ears with trembling hands. “Get in the shower.” He pushed her inside the bathroom and locked the door. “Come on. In the shower,” he said quietly, crouching over her while Murphy barked and growled in her arms. “We need him quiet.”

“Hush,” Sophie commanded next to the puppy’s ear.

Murphy stopped instantly, whimpering instead.

Sophie’s heavy breathing echoed off the walls as rain pounded on the roof. He strained to hear, pulling his gun from its holster, taking aim when glass crunched on the hardwood floors of the hall.

“He’s coming,” she whispered, trembling.

He didn’t have time to comfort her as he pushed her further behind the barrier of the marble stall, pulling his phone from the holder, hitting the button for Shane.

“Yeah,” Shane said.

“He’s in the house,” Stone said quietly. “We’re in the bathroom.”

“Fuck, man, I’m turning up the drive right now.”

“Get here.” He set down the phone, squishing Sophie against the wall as the knob twisted in the glow of the nightlight. “Cover your ears,” he said with deadly calm, ready to do what needed to be done.

Sophie did as he said.

He fired twice, around the chest and head range, and the man who wanted Sophie dead hollered out in a cry of pain.

Footsteps receded down the hall, and two rapid pops quickly followed along with the shatter of glass breaking in the master bedroom.

Stone kept his gun pointed for what felt like hours, his heart pounding, waiting, listening, his eyes glued to the door.

“McCabe, it’s me,” Shane yelled moments later, crunching his way down the hall. “I’ve called it in. Entering.” He kicked open the bathroom door, aiming as Stone aimed at him. “Rooms are clear.”

He rushed to his feet, a thousand weights lifting off his shoulders when he saw his soaking-wet friend standing in the doorway. “Stay with Sophie.”

“Where are you going?” She stood, grabbing his shirt, her eyes wild with terror. “Stay here with me, Stone. Stay with me.”

He couldn’t. It was clear this wasn’t going to stop until Sophie was dead. They were going to end this now, or Sophie
would
die. Next time the bastard might get off his shot, and he wasn’t taking that chance.

“I’ll be back.” He yanked free of her grasp and shut the bathroom door, waiting to hear the lock click in place, and hustled into the bedroom. He noted the blood on the windowsill, catching sight of the man hunched and gripping his side as he hurried off into the shadows. “There you are you son of a bitch.”

He hurtled his way outside, tucking himself into a roll as he hit the ground. Standing, instantly drenched by cold drops, he headed toward the canyons, following his prey into the brush and mud while blue lights flashed and police sirens wailed their way up his road. He wouldn’t be waiting around for LAPD tonight.

Moving into the increasing darkness and staying close to the thick line of bushes, he squinted in the familiar surroundings of his land, trying to spot the bastard who wanted to murder his wife. His fears of the man getting away made him want to rush ahead, but getting shot wouldn’t help Sophie. He paused, catching his breath as adrenaline coursed through his body, listening in the relentless rains for any sound that might give the hired gun away.

A twig snapped a few feet in front him, and he inched further forward, drawing his gun, finding the man hunkered low, peering through the sight of his rifle aimed at the house while muttering something into his cell phone.

The assassin turned his head in Stone’s direction.

Stone raised his weapon. “Hands up, asshole, or you’re dead.”

“Fuck you.” He whirled, launching himself at Stone.

Without hesitation, Stone fired. He hit the man in the shoulder but then fell back, losing his grip on his gun with the nasty thud of impact as the well-muscled killer landed on top of him. Stone reached behind him for his weapon, feeling nothing but open, empty air, and was forced into a roll over several unforgiving rocks toward the huge drop-off into the basin below. Stone used the momentum he gained to sit up and plow his fist into the fucker’s face. “Who sent you?”

“You’re going to die,” the hit man replied, slamming the side of his hands into Stone’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. They rolled again, battling for leverage, bringing them closer to the ledge.

Stone struggled to move further onto solid ground, gripping the base of a bush as his right leg dangled and the man fought to push him to his death. Grabbing for anything next to him, he clutched a palm-sized rock, swinging, connecting with the man’s temple. Using the moment of surprise to his advantage, he kicked out, shoving at the guy’s chest, sending him over the edge as shouts and lights shined his way.

He lay where he was, gasping for each breath, wincing as the sickening smack of the body collided with the land below.