Escorted By The Ranger

Chapter 2

Marissa slept better knowing Kit and Griffin were in her guest bedroom, but Jack sleeping in her living room felt odd. He had insisted on being in a location between the front and back doors to keep an eye on the house and who came and went even though he would have been more comfortable in her other guest bedroom.

After checking the doors and windows on the main floor, Jack had sat on the couch. His laptop was open in front of him, but it seemed to interest him only slightly. He hadn’t stared at her. He hadn’t looked at her. Marissa simultaneously liked that and found it irritating. Men often paid attention to her and she was curious why Jack seemed uninterested.

Before she had gone to bed, she had offered him a drink. He had declined.

Marissa rolled over, adjusting her pillow to get more comfortable.

It wasn’t just thoughts of Jack keeping her awake. Every time she closed her eyes, she thought of Avery, picturing the last words they had spoken to each other, wishing she could have talked to Avery about what had happened with Rob. Deep sadness and grief cut through her and regret followed close on its heels.

The police would find evidence at the scene and Avery’s attacker would be found. Pictures taken backstage had to have captured something. Marissa flipped her pillow to the cooler side. She tried breathing exercises to slow her heart rate and induce a state of relaxation. Usually, she slept fantastically in her house. She traveled more than half the year and sleeping in her bed was a luxury. Tonight, sleep was elusive.

Her phone buzzed. She looked at the display. It was a message from Ambrose. You awake?

She typed a reply. Yes.

I am sorry about Avery. You were friends for a long time.

She and Avery had been close. Marissa should have worked harder to repair the relationship. Rob wasn’t worth the loss of a friend. When they hadn’t been on speaking terms, she had told herself she was fine. But it had hurt. Though Marissa had been through two heart-wrenching divorces, Avery’s friendship had been the one solid relationship she’d had. How are you?

In shock. Can’t imagine not seeing her again.

Her chest felt tight. This couldn’t be fixed. That acknowledgment devastated her all over again.

Marissa heard a creak outside her door and she tensed. Kit or Griffin might be checking on her. Or was Jack patrolling her town house for security issues? Several seconds of silence passed.

She heard another creak.

I have to go. Talk soon. She sent the message and squeezed her eyes closed. The noises were the house settling. She was safe.

Marissa felt a hand on her arm. She opened her eyes and came face-to-face with a man she didn’t recognize.

Before she could scream, he clamped his hand over her mouth, pushing her back into her pillow, pressing her hard into the mattress. Her heart thundered and she tried not to panic. Pushing at his hand, she couldn’t get his weight off her. He would suffocate her!

The door to her bedroom slammed open, light from the hallway spearing inside, and Jack launched himself at her assailant. The relief of his heaviness being tossed from her consumed her.

Marissa scrambled to move away, her sheets tangling around her. She screamed out to Kit, a warning in the case the assailant wasn’t working alone.

Griffin barreled into the room.

“One assailant. He’s down,” Jack said.

Griffin turned on the lights just as her sister appeared in the doorway.

On the floor at Jack’s feet was her assailant, and he wasn’t moving. Was this the man who had killed Avery? He had close-cropped black hair, a small nose and thin lips. He wore all black from his turtleneck to his sneakers. He didn’t look familiar.

Marissa’s heart was racing and she felt dizzy. “Is he dead?”

“No,” Jack said. “Maybe he can tell us why he’s here and what this has to do with Avery.”

“Breathe slower or you’ll pass out,” Kit said, setting her hand on Marissa’s back.

Marissa had been taking short puffs of air, but she finally inhaled deeply and focused again on the man on the floor in her bedroom. “I don’t know him.”

“An assassin?” Jack asked.

Griffin nodded once swiftly, agreeing with Jack.

Marissa looked between the three of them. “He was sent to kill me? How do you know?”

“Instinct,” Jack said.

Kit’s eyes were narrowed with concern. “It will be okay. I promise. We’ll figure this out.”

Marissa looked at Jack. “Guess you won’t be booking a flight out.”

Jack shook his head. “I’m settling in for the duration.”

* * *

Jack didn’t follow gossip columns, but he had read up on Marissa on the flight to New York. He wouldn’t call watching over Marissa a mission. Though the intruder tonight had established Kit was correct in believing there was a real threat against Marissa, if Avery’s killer was the same man who attacked Marissa in her home, they could wrap this up, get the answers they needed, and Jack could be home by morning.

Jack didn’t know what to make of Marissa. Gorgeous, obviously, but she wasn’t arrogant about it. She was confident. He didn’t know how many women would be comfortable in a thin-strapped tank top and white silk pants while talking to strangers. The police had arrived at her home and had arrested her attacker. It was the second time in twenty-four hours that Marissa was making a statement to the police. The one upside to the assailant attempting to kill her was that she was no longer the prime suspect in Avery’s murder.

Marissa was talking with one of the officers on the scene. She spoke with her hands, her movements and face expressive.

Marissa was every bit as beautiful in person as she was in photos and magazines. Hard not to picture her wearing a swimsuit or lingerie like she did in her ads. Those were hard to ignore. They emphasized her best features: her face, her long hair, her curvy, toned body.

Jack had expected for this project to involve drama, mostly that of her making, but that wasn’t the case. The perpetrator had been arrested and they might be in the clear. A short assignment was fine with him. It had been a good distraction from the problems with Bianca and his last mission.

After the police left, Jack, Kit, Griffin and Marissa assembled in the kitchen. Kit had prepared tea. Marissa had a huge kitchen with white cabinets and black shiny countertops. Her dining room was expansive with vaulted ceilings, three of the sides lined with windows and the fourth open to the kitchen. Jack circled the room, closing the roman shades. No point in giving a marksman a clear shot of Marissa. She watched him but didn’t question what he was doing.

Marissa sat at the head of the ten-person table. She had put on a short purple robe and wore light purple slippers on her feet. Her hands were shaking and Jack fought the urge to put his arm around her. If 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 is small and everyone knows everyone. Rumors will spread. The designer who wants me to model his jewelry asked for me personally. I won’t let him down.”

“You’re Marissa,” Jack said.

Her hands moved to her hips. “What does that mean?”

Her fame, beauty and success came with benefits. “People will make exceptions for you.”

“I work hard and honor my commitments. I’ve gotten where I am because I’m reliable and responsible.” Hostility dripped from her voice.

He sensed pushing her more would send her over the edge. “I didn’t mean to offend you. We’ll change your flight and hotel. Maybe that will be enough to throw anyone following you off your trail,” Jack said. Most of his previous clients were more calloused. His boss had mentioned that he could use some softening around the edges. This was his opportunity to show he could handle all types of clients.

“I’ll agree to those changes,” Marissa said. She sat again on the bed and looked at her alarm clock. “No point in going back to sleep now.”

Being in her private space, he was aware of a boundary shifting. He shouldn’t linger in her bedroom. It was making him think irrational thoughts, like of how it would feel to touch her or kiss her. “Rest while you can. I’ll make the arrangements.” He left her room, closing the door behind him before he did something he’d regret.

* * *

Marissa tilted her head back and turned it, arching her back. The sun’s rays were beating down on her and the heavy sparkling diamond necklace she was wearing. Despite the brightness, in the crisp New Hampshire air, she was cold. A burnt orange bikini provided little protection from the wind. Outdoor heaters blew to keep goose bumps off her skin. The sounds of the waves rolling onto the beach were melodic and soothing. The beige of the sand swept into snow-dusted dunes and gray-and-tan marbled rocks.

The hardest task was keeping the sadness out of her eyes. Avery was dead and Marissa wouldn’t have the opportunity to make amends with her. She’d heard people on the set whispering about the murder and her stomach twisted with grief. Clarice was working this event as well and she had much to say on the matter, eager to discuss it and vent some of her sadness. Rumors swirled despite not having any official information on the case.

Marissa’s home intruder had admitted he was hired by someone he didn’t know. He had been sent to kill her. Marissa tried not to let that sink too deeply in to her psyche. Except for the incident with Rob and Avery, Marissa didn’t start trouble with friends or colleagues. Her divorces had been over long ago and any animosity had faded with time.

The wind blew across the water, sending a chill down her spine. Marissa thought of heated things. Soup. Hot chocolate. And Jack, who was standing about four yards away. He was wearing a dark coat that didn’t hide his muscular shape. Strong shoulders and trim hips, his stride was powerful and every movement deliberate. Every few minutes, he changed his position, circling the area. She didn’t believe that trouble had followed her. Jack believed it had. He had negotiated for the shoot to take place a quarter of a mile from the previously planned location. With the additional traffic the crew brought, it wouldn’t be hard to find her.

Marissa felt safer with Jack. Serious, rarely smiling, he moved quickly and thought ahead. He didn’t look at her much, but she found herself looking at him quite a bit. Marissa tried not to be arrogant about her appearance or assume that everyone found her attractive. Her job revolved around her looks and she had lucked out in that department. Most of the men on the set were staring at her. Jack was looking at everything else.

She had traveled from New York to New Hampshire with Jack and he had kept his questions and comments about her, Avery, the incident in her apartment and the changes to her travel plans.

She sensed she rubbed him the wrong way and wasn’t his type. He would go for a rough-and-tumble woman, salt of the earth, low maintenance. Marissa was the definition of high maintenance. She liked sleep and her beauty products and her fitness regimen. When she was stressed, she liked time at a spa.

Jack wasn’t paying attention to her and it bothered her. Not able to put her finger on why since he wasn’t her type either. He hadn’t shaved this morning, he didn’t go out of his way to be charismatic or charming and he was not interested in her outside of their professional involvement. Dressed appropriately, his clothes lacked a fashion sense, but he wore them well. Dark gray pants and a black T-shirt; a black windbreaker that concealed his gun.

“Marissa, eyes,” the photographer said.

Marissa had been squinting. Jack glanced in her direction. She refocused on showing the jewelry in the best light.

The photographer dropped his camera to his side and sighed. “This is boring. We need a different set. I want to do something daring. Not look like we’re schlepping shopping-mall jewelry.”

He snapped his fingers and pointed. Marissa stood. Three assistants started moving around the boxes and light reflectors.

Clarice jogged over with a plush robe. “Want this?”

Marissa shook her head. It was harder to get warm and then peel off the robe and be freezing again. Anyway, it would smudge her makeup and ruffle her hair. “Thanks, but I’m okay.” The heaters were helping, but her toes were cold and she wiggled them.

“Probably only thirty more minutes with the sun’s rays in the right position,” Clarice said.

They had been on the set for hours. “I hope we have some good shots.”

“Weird on the set today,” Clarice said. “I can’t stop thinking about Avery. She’s on everyone’s mind. It’s hard to focus on other things. Business as usual feels strange.”

“I know what you mean,” Marissa said. It was simultaneously quieter, but with more behind-the-hand whispers.

“Have you heard anything else?” Clarice asked.

Marissa shook her head. “Avery’s mother sent me a message about the memorial service.” The woman didn’t know she and Avery hadn’t been speaking and she had asked Marissa to say a few words about Avery at the service.

“I’ve been asking around, but no one seems to know what happened.” Clarice stared at her hard as if expecting her to reveal an important detail.

“The police will figure it out,” Marissa said. She hoped they would soon. The man who had been inside her town house was denying any involvement in Avery’s murder.

“What about the bodyguard?” Clarice asked.

“Jewelry guards, you mean?” Marissa said. The jewelry had been escorted to the site by two burly looking, highly intimidating men.

“Not them. What about your new bodyguard? What’s his story?” Clarice asked.

“His story?” Marissa asked. She didn’t know much about Jack.

“Is he married or does he have a girlfriend? No wedding ring,” Clarice said.

Marissa hadn’t asked. “He was a referral.” She was curious about him, too. Not her business, but he hadn’t taken personal phone calls on the trip to Seabrook. A wife or girlfriend would call now and then.

“He doesn’t talk to anyone. He looks around and watches,” Clarice said.

“He’s making sure everything and everyone is safe,” Marissa said.

Clarice smiled. “After what happened to Avery, I’m glad for the extra eyes on us. But maybe when he’s off the clock, he would be willing to talk more. When does his shift end?”

Possessiveness and a hint of jealousy nipped at her. Marissa tried to squash it. Clarice was being friendly. It was in her nature. “Not shift work. He’s been hired to stay with me.”

A puzzled expression crossed Clarice’s face. “All right. I’ll try to get his number and call him. I assume he’ll have time off.”

The photographer clapped his hands and Marissa hurried to the restaged set. Jack could be interested in Clarice. She was sweet and fun. Marissa looked at Jack again.

This time, he wasn’t observing. He was running at her, screaming, “Get down, get down!”

Marissa heard sharp cracks exploding, like fireworks in the sky.

Jack caught her around the waist, throwing her to the ground and covering her with his body.