Private Bodyguard

Probably not good was an understatement. In less than five minutes, Nigel Marks was in the back of the cop cruiser and as mad as a hornet. Before they had driven away, the businessman had asked Thomas to call his lawyer.

“About what?” Thomas had asked.

“I’m being accused of murder,” Nigel had bit back.

All three bodyguards didn’t have time to hide their surprise.

Oliver had had many interesting things happen in his line of work, but he could definitely say a client being accused of murder was a first. No matter the new unique circumstance, he couldn’t forget he was team leader. He sent Grant and Thomas—who had followed Nigel’s directions and was calling Nikki to get the man’s lawyer’s information, and also an earful of confusion from her—to the police station. There they would continue to work as his bodyguards until Nigel was officially convicted of the crime or cleared of it.

Oliver made sure George knew he needed to keep an extravigilant eye on the gate and jumped into his rental, already calling Darling. It wasn’t a coincidence she had called. She knew something.

She always did.

Minutes later, Oliver pulled into the lot of the Mulligan Motel. The coroner’s van along with two police cruisers were parked next to the entrance, while a few guests stood around, but he had eyes only for one woman.

Darling was sitting on a bench next to the lobby’s front door, concentration aimed at her phone. She had been brief during their call but had admitted they had found a dead body. Though how it was linked to Nigel, he wasn’t sure yet.

“Apparently my questions are going to have to be asked a little earlier than planned,” he said by way of a greeting. It made the woman jump, but she didn’t appear angry when she met his eyes. His body tensed at her gaze.

“Believe me, you aren’t the only one who has questions.” She stood and stretched. He was acutely aware of her five-five height, having to incline his head down slightly to look at her. A memory of how easy it was to pick her up into his embrace flashed across his vision. “Where is Nigel, and why aren’t you with him?”

Since Nigel was a client, what went on in the man’s private life was confidential. Oliver was under contract, which meant, unless it was public information, he couldn’t divulge the fact that the businessman had been taken to the jail. Even if the person asking was Darling.

“Grant and Thomas are with him,” was all he gave her. “Now, what’s going on here, and how is it connected with Nigel?”

Darling was visibly trying to hide her anger at not being given a full answer, but she reined in the emotion along with any words born from it. She pushed her shoulders back when she was no longer actively trying to hide her displeasure.

“A body was found in the room your boss was staying in last night,” she answered. Oliver didn’t correct her with the difference between boss and client. His interest level had jumped off the charts instead. He was about to push for more when the Mulligan Motel’s front door swung open and the deputy walked out. His mouth was set in a grim line, one that thinned when he saw Oliver.

“I’m surprised you’re here,” the deputy said, coming over. “I thought you’d be at the station.”

“So Nigel was arrested?” Darling cut in before Oliver could comment.

“He was picked up a few minutes ago,” Derrick said, relieving Oliver of having to withhold the information. Even though Darling kept her face guarded, he didn’t miss the satisfaction that the cop’s words brought her. “Which is why I didn’t think you’d be here,” Derrick said to Oliver.

“The rest of the team is with him,” he repeated. “I came here to find out what’s going on.” Oliver sent a pointed look to Darling. “And how you’re involved.”

Darling crossed her arms over her chest.

“I was actually about to ask the same thing,” Derrick said. The two of them focused on the private investigator. She shifted under their collective gaze. A long exhalation escaped between her lips.

“I was working a case,” she admitted. “It led me here and, to my surprise, right up to a dead body. But as soon as I found it, I called you,” she said to Derrick.

The cop outdid her earlier sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What’s your case?” Oliver had to ask.

Darling set her jaw. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Dammit, Darling, a woman is dead. You need to tell me everything you know,” Derrick said with tried patience. Oliver guessed murder wasn’t a normal occurrence in Mulligan.

“So it is a woman, then?” she asked. Derrick nodded. It was her turn to skate around a direct answer. “I didn’t look hard enough. How was she killed?”

“And how is Nigel connected, again?” Oliver tacked on.

The deputy wasn’t happy about the questions. “It’s my turn to say ‘no comment.’” Darling opened her mouth to argue, but he held up his hand. “This is an ongoing murder investigation, Darling. I can’t give you anything right now. Not even for old times’ sake.”

Oliver didn’t like the way he said the last part or the way the deputy brought up their shared past. The past that Oliver’s past few years didn’t even touch. However, a small part of him did feel a sort of odd joy to know that whatever relationship they’d had was now seemingly over.

“Now, please go wait inside so I can take your statement,” the deputy said to Darling before focusing on Oliver. “And I suggest you head to the station. We’re going to need to talk about that client of yours.”

He was gone after that, leaving Oliver and Darling speechless on the sidewalk.

“You said Nigel was the last to see the woman alive?” he asked, voice low and serious.

“He spent the night with her, Oliver.”

“Are you sure?” Nigel had said he was in his hotel in the city until the morning. Neither Grant nor Thomas had said otherwise. “It could have been a mistake.”

Darling’s lips turned down. “It looks like Nigel Marks isn’t the saint you thought him to be.” There was no mistaking the undercurrent of anger that coursed through her words. He was a step away from a dangerous territory with her.

“This isn’t how I pictured running into you after all of these years.” Silence stretched between them as neither had a response ready for the topic of their past. Oliver then continued, “I’d still like to catch up, but it looks like tonight might not be good.” He had already started a mental list of things he needed to do. “Can I treat you to breakfast tomorrow instead?”

Darling seemed to be thinking it over. Eventually she nodded before she, too, disappeared back into the building. Oliver retreated to his SUV, pulling his phone out to call Nikki along the way.

The job was officially no longer boring.

Chapter Four (#ulink_7960564b-f42f-58d1-b56a-3eaf314afea7)

Darling chewed on her bottom lip, not stopping until she tasted lipstick. She was standing in the lobby of Acuity the next morning, staring into a folder, confused beyond belief.

The afternoon before had blurred by after she’d given a statement to Derrick and then been ushered home. He wasn’t happy with her investigating, or the fact that she wouldn’t say for whom, and had in so many words let her know that she wouldn’t keep that secret for long. So instead she had tried to reach Mrs. Marks. The resort manager she had spoken with had taken a message and promised to give it to her when she returned.

It had eaten Darling up as she lay awake in bed, fuming that Oliver knew more about what was going on with Nigel than she did. Here he was, stepping into her town, and he had already managed to be on the inside loop with the infamous Mr. Marks. She could have called Oliver, sure, but her pride had shut that idea down quickly. Admitting she needed the fair-haired man in any capacity was something she refused to do ever again.

After only a few hours of rest, she had opened Acuity to find a folder filled with curious things lying on the hardwood floor, slipped under the door as an unmistakable greeting.

Now between her hands were four eight-by-ten pictures of Nigel Marks with a woman who wasn’t his wife. Each picture—printed on glossy card stock and dated—was focused on the businessman and a red-haired woman in four varying shows of affection. The first two had them in an intimate embrace, while the third and fourth were of the two sharing meals. In one of those, Nigel was even holding the woman’s hand, a smile splitting his lips. None of the four pictures had a clear shot of the female’s face, but there was no denying it was the same woman in each and that the couple was happy. All pictures were dated from the previous December up until March, the month before.

Elizabeth Marks had been looking for proof that her husband had been seeing another woman in secret. From what Darling could tell, she was holding that proof.

But why?

She stood there, cycling through each picture again, when a knock at the door made her jump. The folder fell to the floor. She hurried to pick it up when she noticed there was something still inside it.

“Knock, knock. It’s me,” called Oliver from the other side of the locked front entrance. “You in there?”

Darling didn’t immediately respond. Her eyes were glued to a newspaper clipping that had been stuck to the inside of the folder. It was a picture of her parents that she knew to be almost nine years old. However, it was the words written in red across it that grabbed all her attention.