Bodyguard

“I wasn’t going to put it so bluntly, but yes.”

“My uncle is the one who wants me dead, Ian. It’s his hands that were around my throat the other night.” Her tone was hard, her voice raspy, and the compassion he didn’t want to feel welled up again.

“Does it make you feel better to keep telling yourself that?” he asked gently.

“It will make me feel better to be done with this. It will make me feel better to do what I promised and to get on with my life. So how about you leave me alone and let me go back to the business of staying safe until the trial?”

“Do you think this will all end if we have your uncle in custody?” he asked, calling King to heel and leading Esme back the way they’d come.

“I hope it will,” she murmured, limping as she tried to keep pace with him. She must have hurt her leg or foot. He shouldn’t have cared. She was a means to an end. Despite the clean criminal record, the supposedly upright business, she was who she was—a Dupree.

But he did care, because she was a person who’d found herself in an untenable position and had chosen to do the right thing. She’d witnessed a horrible crime, and despite the fact that her brother had committed it, she’d gone to the police and offered to testify.

“What’d you do to your leg?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“Twisted my ankle. It’s fine.”

“Then why are you limping?”

“Because I’m tired, okay? Because I want to get out of this stupid swamp and into clean clothes. I want to take a shower and wash three days’ worth of bug repellent off my skin. Mostly, I just want to close my eyes, open them and find out that this has all been some horrible nightmare.”

“I’m sorry,” he said and meant it.

“For what? Being the one they chose for this assignment?”

“For the fact that all of this isn’t just a bad dream. Your family has deep pockets, Esme. They can afford to pay people to do their dirty work. Which means you won’t be safe until we shut down the crime ring your brother and uncle control.”

“You’re a wellspring of joyful tidings, Ian.”

“I’m honest.”

“And, like I said, I’m tired. So how about we discuss this another time?”

“You want to survive, right?” He stopped short and looked straight into her pale face.

“Would I have spent three days in the Everglades if I didn’t?”

“Some people love it here.”

“I’m not one of them,” she huffed.

“And yet, this is where you ran when you left witness protection.”

“My parents and I spent every summer here when I was a kid. They’re—”

“Buried twenty miles from here. I know. I’m sure your uncle knew. Your brother. Your sister.”

“I feel like you’re trying to make a point, so how about you just get to it?” Her hands were on her hips, her chin raised. Of the three Dupree siblings, she was the one Ian understood the least. Reginald was all about power and money. He’d go to any length to get it. Violetta wanted the same, but she wasn’t willing to break the law to get it. On the other hand, she wasn’t willing to cooperate with law enforcement to make her brother pay for his crimes.

But Esme...

Ian couldn’t wrap her in a tidy package and put a label on her. That bothered him. He’d spent most of his adult life studying people, figuring them out, deciding whether they were telling the truth, were dangerous or could be trusted. He’d missed the mark with Jake Morrow. A member of the Tactical K-9 team, Jake had put on a good show. He’d pretended to be everything the team believed in—a man of honesty, integrity, honor. That hadn’t meant Ian had liked him. There’d always been something a little cocky about Jake, something a little off. Still, he’d trusted him.

That trust had been misplaced.

Jake had been on the Dupree payroll. He’d betrayed the team, and he was still on the loose, still causing trouble.

“Here’s my point,” he said, King panting quietly beside him. “You came to a place where anyone who knew anything about you would look for you. You would have been better off sticking with witness protection.”

“One innocent person already lost her life because I was in the program. I’m not going to risk someone else dying for the same reason.”

“We had a leak. We’ve sealed it. No one else is going to be hurt,” he responded, keeping his tone neutral. He’d thought she was worried about her own safety, that she’d run from the program because she thought she’d be safer away from it. The fact that she’d been worried about others put a twist on things. A twist he didn’t like. He wanted to lump her in with the rest of the family, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to do it.

“You don’t seem to understand.” She swung around, her auburn ponytail flying in an arc as she moved. “One person being hurt is too many. I think about it every day. About how that woman died because someone mistook her for me.”

“It wasn’t because of you. It was because of your uncle and your brother. It was because they thought they were above the law, because they hadn’t expected to ever be stopped. They like their money and their power, and neither of them want to give it up.”

“Yeah. I know.” She sighed, walking away, heading toward the distant emergency lights, her stride hitched but brisk, her shoulders straight.

“Esme,” he said, not sure what he wanted to add, what he could possibly say to make things better or easier or right.

“I think we’ve both said everything we need to, Ian. How about you just let me do what I need to? I’m sure the police would like to talk to you, and I’ve got a long way to go before I reach civilization.”

He could have stopped her.

He had the authority to do it. He had the strength. He had King.

But he let her go, because he thought she needed some space. It was five miles to the main road, and there were emergency vehicles everywhere. She’d be safe enough.

“All right,” he said, and she met his eyes.

He thought he saw tears before she looked away again.

Then she was moving, putting distance between them, her backpack lying a yard away, abandoned on the muddy ground. He snagged it, figuring she’d want it later. He needed to check in with the local police, and then he’d get in his SUV and pick her up on the way out.

“King,” he said, and the dog looked at him, eager for the next command. “Guard!”

The Malinois took off, racing across the clearing, his light brown fur visible in the darkness as he followed Esme through the trees and out into the main campground.

THREE (#ufaf699b6-4849-5797-ab70-95846e6afa5b)

Long Pine Key Campground was not difficult to find. Esme simply followed the flashing emergency lights through a copse of mangroves and out into a field of vegetation. The vehicles were probably a quarter mile away, but the darkness made them easy enough to see. She picked her way across the field, the ground growing soggier with every step. If it got any wetter, she’d have to find another route. She didn’t mind getting wet, but she didn’t like the idea of being knee-deep in water that was filled with slimy, slithery, scaly creatures.

Esme was almost ready to turn back when she spotted a wooden walkway that stretched the remainder of the way across the area. She stepped onto it, the wood giving a little as she moved.

She was halfway over when she heard quiet panting and the soft pad of paws. Her heart in her throat, she spun around, her sore ankle nearly giving out. The dog was there. Of course. King. And he was so close she could have reached out and touched his nose, so close she could feel his panting breath on her hand, see his goofy smile through the darkness.

Because he was smiling again.