The Bodyguard

Janine Duke took command, as usual. She gave Frankie a perfunctory hug, then stepped back. Garbed in a dark blue silk suit with cartouche trim, Janine looked like a fashion photographer’s dream. All her cousins looked great, Kara and Ross, Dawn, too, all were dressed like movie stars. Frankie was not merely an interloper, she was an oversized, lunkish mess wearing ragged jeans and the Frankenstein coat. She must look as wild as she felt.

She glanced surreptitiously at McKennon. He’d put back on the sunglasses and his strong-as-steel facade. She guessed he was thinking Frankie was the family nut. The family loser.

“Penny won’t leave the chapel as long as you’re here,” Janine said.

“Why am I not surprised?” She turned back to the car. “I have to go to work, anyway.”

Ross slid an arm around his wife’s waist. He and Dawn exchanged knowing glances. “If you leave now, you and Penny will have a harder time patching things up. Come to the lodge. We’ll get Penny calmed down. You two can talk.”

She needed to leave. She wanted to leave so she could hide and lick her wounds in peace. She thought about how she needed to go to work, and her cat was probably starving by now, so he’d be looking for a few books to shred in order to vent his frustration. She had a video to return. Like McKennon said, Penny needed to make her own mistakes. “None of you understands what’s going on here.”

“Try us, Frankie.” Kara, the youngest of the siblings, stepped to the fore. She took Frankie’s cold hand and rubbed it briskly between hers. “Why is Penny so angry with you?”

Startled, Frankie caught her breath. Angry? Penny had no reason in the world to be angry with anyone, much less with Frankie. Yet...she’d seen the look in Penny’s eyes as she stood on the chapel stoop. There had been a strange hardness in the girl’s expression, a glint of something deep and dark and hurtful.

“She has no reason to be angry,” Frankie said hotly. “She knows I’d do anything for her.”

Kara shrugged. “Okay, maybe she isn’t angry. Maybe she’s just embarrassed. You know, about—”

“She should be embarrassed. Julius is old enough to be her father.” Frankie didn’t like the way her cousins shared knowing glances. “What? You all know something. What is it?”

Silence hung heavily over the parking lot. The idling engine of the limousine began to sound very loud, like a rumble of distant thunder, and the stench of exhaust clashed with the clear mountain air. Frankie searched their faces one by one. Ross averted his gaze. Dawn stared at the toes of her pumps. Janine twirled a strand of her lustrous hair around her fingers. Kara clamped her arms over her bosom and shivered. McKennon appeared to meditate upon the distant mountains.

“Sheesh,” Kara said. “Penny didn’t—”

“Shut up,” Janine interrupted. “Penny will tell her.”

“She should have told her already.” Kara reached again for Frankie’s hands. “She’s pregnant.”

Chapter Two

Frankie wanted to leave more than ever. She wanted to go home and forget she even had a sister. She really, really wanted to snatch Penny by the throat and shake some sense into her fluffy blond head. She decided to talk to Penny. She’d be reasonable, she wouldn’t yell, but she’d let the girl know exactly where she stood: Penny could have Julius or she could have Frankie, but not both. Then she would leave.

She allowed Ross to drive her to the resort lodge. He guided her to the family’s private dining room and fetched a carafe of hot coffee. The coffee chased away some of the chill. She wrapped both hands around the mug to warm them. Her face felt crackly, as if it might break if she moved too fast. She lifted her gaze to Ross.

“She isn’t pregnant. No way. She’s too smart.” Frankie knew the pregnancy had to be a lie. Penny probably used it as an excuse for a hasty wedding.

Ross sat at the table and folded his hands atop the surface. The pity in his gray eyes scratched her bones.

“She has plans,” she insisted. “She’s going to travel the world.”

“Stuff happens, plans change. You girls need to talk.”

Snorting in disgust, Frankie turned her glum gaze on the trophy wall that chronicled her uncle’s long and distinguished military career. She wondered again how he and his family could have betrayed her like this. A glance at a wall clock showed that even if she left now, she’d be late for work. “Is there a phone I can use?”

He brought her a cordless telephone, then moved to the other end of the table to give her some privacy. She dialed the number of her neighbor. Sally answered with a syrupy hello.

“This is Frankie,” she said. “Can I ask you a big favor?”

“Are you okay? You sound funny.”

“I’m fine.” Sally’s concern lifted her spirits somewhat. They’d met on the day Frankie moved into her apartment and had been good friends ever since. Wait until Sally got an earful of this debacle. “I’ve got a...situation. I’ll tell you all about it later. Can you feed Cat?”

Sally didn’t answer right away. Frankie groaned inwardly. The cat, whom she called Cat, had shown up a few months ago and stayed. He was neither pretty nor sweet tempered, and he had a bad habit of shredding her books, magazines and newspapers when he lost his temper. He also attacked people on occasion. Frankie let him stay because he seemed like the one creature in the universe whose life was in worse shape than hers.

“Please,” Frankie said. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to.”

“Oh, all right. I’ll take an oven mitt for protection.” She sighed dramatically, then laughed. “That animal belongs in a zoo, you know. When will you be back?”

“Very late tonight. I owe you one, girlfriend.”

“You owe me two.”

After she finished that call, she dialed another number. She hoped anyone but Bob answered. A scratchy, petulant voice answered the phone: “Martha’s Pie House, may I help you?”

“Hi, Bob,” she said, “it’s Frankie.” She waited a beat, then added, “I can’t come in to work tonight. I have an emergency.”

“What do you mean you can’t come in? You know I’m shorthanded.”

Frankie dropped her face onto her hand. Bob ruled the pancake house as if being assistant manager made him emperor. The little twit. “It’s an emergency. Call Julie.”

“I know who to call. It’s my job to know. I keep the schedules, you know.” Papers rustled. “You’re working Saturday, then.”

“Fine.” She noticed he didn’t ask about the nature of her emergency.

“From now on I need at least twenty-four hours notice.”

“I’ll plan more carefully for my emergencies, Bob.” She hung up and placed the telephone on the table.

“Everything okay?” Ross asked. Questions lurked in his eyes.

Frankie hadn’t told the Dukes about her recent situation. Since Penny was acting so sneaky and self-absorbed, it was doubtful she had told them, either. Guilt crept through her. Ever since Max had dumped her, she’d shut out her family. Ross and Dawn lived in Colorado Springs, perhaps twenty minutes from Frankie’s apartment. Embarrassment and pride had prevented her from running to them with her tales of woe.

“I don’t work for Max Caulfield anymore,” she said.

Ross cocked his head and assumed an expression that invited confidences. He’d always been easy to talk to.

Explanations caused a traffic jam of words in her throat. Even after six months it hurt to talk about Max. “Things got intense,” she finally said. “I’m waiting tables until I can figure out how to market myself as a freelance graphologist.”

“Self-employment is the best.”

Grateful he didn’t probe too deeply, she nodded.

“Julius is related to Caulfield.”

His statement made her wince. She stared at her hands. The redness had faded, leaving them looking paper-white against the chestnut hue of the tabletop. “Max married Julius’s mother. She’s rich.” She wished she’d never voiced Max’s name.

“Does that have something to do with you disliking Julius?”