He was used to that sort of thing. He wasn’t averse to looking at it, though he wouldn’t say it didn’t bother him. Well, considering who the victims were, it didn’t bother him. If they were innocent, then it would bother him.

  “Can we get someone to stay with her here for a second?” Thrower asked. “She shouldn’t have to look at that.”

  The officer nodded, motioning for another officer to come over to stand with St. James.

  “You stay with him,” Thrower said to his client. “I’m just going over here to get a better look.”

  St. James agreed, though she didn’t respond verbally. She was still a little too shaken to talk.

  Thrower and his police friend took a few steps closer to the car. Thrower took another look inside.

  “You know them?” the officer asked.

  Thrower nodded. “Those are the three guys who attacked us last night.”

  “You’re sure. All three?”

  “Yep. Those are the ones. Same ones from the airport, too.”

  The officer smiled. “Well, I guess that’ll wrap this up, huh?”

  “Well, I don’t think they killed themselves.”

  “No, but I believe you and Ms. St. James will be able to rest easier tonight.”

  “Think so?” Thrower asked, not necessarily agreeing with the sentiment.

  “Sure. With these guys dead, there’s no threat.”

  “Maybe.”

  “We’ll have to verify your whereabouts to rule you out as a suspect in this.”

  “At the hotel, then came straight here,” Thrower replied. “Haven’t left the building before now.”

  “I’ll have to check on it, not that I don’t believe you.”

  Thrower shrugged, not really caring either way. “Do what you gotta do. I got a question, though.”

  “Sure?”

  “How did these guys wind up dead here when you were supposed to have a presence all over the place?”

  The officer stumbled with his words, then coughed to buy himself a few seconds. “Well, uh, you know, we can’t be everywhere. We had roving patrols.”

  “Oh. Roving patrols. Nice.”

  “Well, if you and Ms. St. James can just stand over to the back of one of our cars over there, we’ll be with you again shortly.”

  “Fantastic,” Thrower sarcastically said. He went over to his client and put his arm around her.

  “They’re really dead?” St. James asked.

  “Yep. They really are. They want us to wait over here while they investigate. Probably will wanna talk to us again.”

  “But why? We didn’t do anything.”

  “Just routine. They’ve gotta be able to rule people out and things like that. Just procedure. Nothing to worry about.”

  “So why am I worried?”

  “I dunno. Seems to be what you do,” Thrower said with a laugh.

  St. James let out an uneasy smile. “So is this it? Are we done with this?”

  It was a loaded question and one that Thrower couldn’t answer yet. Not with any certainty. If he had to guess, he’d say no. These deaths would go along with his theory that these guys weren’t trying to kill St. James. They were trying to take her. Whether it was a basic kidnapping, ransom, or some other strange act, Thrower got the idea that these three weren’t the brains. This would seem to prove that theory to be accurate.

  Whether these three were in trouble for bungling the job twice already or whether someone thought the authorities were closing in and afraid of the men talking, someone didn’t want them around anymore. Or maybe there was another reason that Thrower couldn’t think of at the moment. But whatever it was, his instincts were that this was far from over.

  But as he looked down at St. James, he could still see the worry on her face. He didn’t have the heart to tell her. Not right now. Maybe later.

  At least if he let her believe that this might have been the end of it, she’d have a couple of hours of being worry-free. Though, as he continued to look at her face, his plan didn’t seem to be working. She looked just as worried as before this thing started.

  After about an hour of standing by the rear of one of the police cars, Thrower’s police contact came over to them.

  “Looks like you two are officially in the clear.”

  Thrower smiled. “So happy to hear it. Can I ask why?”

  “Seems as though the time of death will be within the last two or three hours. That puts you two inside when it happened.”

  “Whew. I was worried.”

  “You can head out now if you want. I’ll give you a breakdown later if I learn anything.”

  Thrower and St. James started to leave, but stopped, as he had another question.

  “There’s no chance they all killed each other, right?”

  “Unlikely,” the officer replied. “The position of the bodies, the entrance wounds… suggests they were killed by someone outside the vehicle.”

  “Thanks.”

  As they walked back to their car, St. James peppered her bodyguard with more questions.

  “Why did you ask that?”

  “Ask what?” Thrower said.

  “About whether they killed themselves.”

  “Just wondering.”

  “There’s someone else involved, isn’t there?”

  Now she believed it, too. There went the couple of hours of stress-free living he’d hoped for.

  “I don’t know,” Thrower said.

  “But you think so. Don’t you?”

  “I can’t really say.”

  Once they got to the car, they stopped before they got in and faced each other.

  “You don’t believe this is over, do you? I can tell by your voice.”

  Thrower looked back at the police scene. “I think it would be a mistake to believe so. At least right now. I don’t know that for a fact, though. That’s just what I’m thinking right now. I could be completely wrong and it’s the end. But I don’t want to take chances with that. I have to go under the assumption that you’re not in the clear yet.”

  “Why were those men killed?”

  “I don’t know. If I had to guess without any clues or information, they were killed because they failed two times already.”

  “So someone else is pulling the strings.”

  Thrower tried to give her a warm smile, knowing this was tough on her. “That would be my guess.”

  St. James lowered her head in disappointment, then got in the car. Thrower walked around to the driver’s side. He started the car, but before putting it in drive, looked over at St. James. She was still looking down. He was trying to think of something that might cheer her up.

  “Hey, are you still up for getting your ass kicked with a logic puzzle?”

  A smile instantly formed on St. James’ face. “Am I ready? Buster, you’re so going down.”

  Thrower shook his head. “Not a chance. I’m going to beat your socks off.”

  The banter seemed to work, as St. James’ mood picked up right away. They drove back to the hotel, trash-talking each other the entire way there. It was almost as if they’d forgotten the scene that they’d just left. Exactly how Thrower had planned it.

  11

  Thrower walked back into the room, drinks in both hands. He passed one to his lovely cohort, who was still lying on the floor, then got down on the floor himself.

  “How are we looking?” Thrower asked, grabbing his pen.

  “I just can’t figure out this last part.”

  “That’s easy. The jewels were taken at midnight by Jerry, and he got away in the red car.”

  “What?!” St. James said. “Are you not even paying attention? We’ve already established that Jerry was at the concert at that time.”

  “We did?” Thrower looked over the puzzle, but now he was confusing himself. “I thought Sam was at the concert.”

  St. James put her hand on her forehead and laughed. “Oh my, I can’t even take you right now.”

  Thrower joined her in laughter. “What? I did!”

  “You’re not even paying attention. I thought we were on the same page here.”

  “Apparently not.” Thrower continued to stare at the puzzle. “I have no idea what’s going on now.”

  They playfully nudged each other on the arm. They talked and laughed and eventually found themselves staring at each other, their faces only inches apart. Neither said anything. St. James started to move her lips closer to his, but Thrower cleared his throat, then pretended something got in his eye, turning his head back to the floor.

  St. James awkwardly turned her head back to the puzzle book. She wasn’t paying it any attention, though. She was looking at the man to her left out of the corner of her eye. Maybe she was misreading the signs. She thought they had developed a connection. But maybe that was only because it was his job to get close to her. She felt a little embarrassed at the moment.

  “You know what? I should probably get to bed soon. Have to get up early for that shoot in the morning.”

  Thrower got up to his knees. “Uh, yeah, yeah. That’s probably a good idea. Don’t know what the day will hold.”

  St. James smiled uncomfortably. “Hopefully, no more surprises.”

  “It would be nice to have an easy day, wouldn’t it?”

  “It would.”

  St. James stood up, then Thrower got to his feet as well. She looked at her watch. It was almost ten. There was silence between them as they looked at each other. And it wasn’t the comfortable, hanging out with your buddies type of silence, where nobody felt it was necessary to talk just for the sake of it. This was the extremely uncomfortable kind where one or both of them felt they should say something, but neither quite knew how to get the words out.

  “Well, I guess I’ll get to bed.”

  Thrower smiled. “Goodnight.”

  “Yeah.” St. James turned around but didn’t even make it five steps before she flipped herself around to face her bodyguard again. “Listen, is there something… What I mean is… I thought…” She was having trouble thinking of the right words.

  “Hmm?”

  “Um, you know what? It’s not important. I’ll just get to bed, I guess.”

  Now it was Thrower’s turn to look uncomfortable as they stared at each other again. He planted an uneasy-looking smile on his face as he rubbed his leg. He could tell St. James was hanging herself out to dry. He didn’t want her to think she was being foolish.

  “Look, uh, I don’t… I don’t quite know how to say this. I feel like maybe I’ve given you some false signals about our relationship.”

  “Oh?” St. James said, trying to sound unassuming.

  “It’s my job to get as close to you as I can. To keep you safe.”

  “Sure.”

  “And, um, it’s my personal rule to not mix business relationships with personal ones.”

  “Oh. OK. I get it. Yeah, I get it. No problem.”

  “I just didn’t want, um, you know, you to get the wrong impression.”

  “No, I didn’t even think that.” St. James forced a laugh. “No, that was the furthest thing from my mind. I mean, we definitely should keep things totally professional. That’s the smart thing.”

  “It is,” Thrower replied.

  St. James gulped, then licked her lips. “Um, just, uh, just out of curiosity, not that it applies to us or anything, but why do you have that rule?”

  “About the relationships?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sometimes in this business you need to keep a clear head,” Thrower said. “It’s harder to do that when you’re emotionally attached to someone. Like, just to use you as an example, if someone came up behind you and had a gun to your head, would I act differently if we were involved or something? Would I make the same decisions? Would I make the right decisions? Would I let my personal feelings get in the way of making the right choice? Those types of things.”

  “Oh. I get it. I do.”

  “Great.”

  “I have the same rule,” St. James said. “I mean, not about guarding people or anything, obviously. That would just be silly. But about dating people that I work with. It can get messy.”

  “Definitely.”

  “OK. Well, I’ve talked enough, so I guess I’m gonna hit the old bed.”

  “Goodnight.”

  St. James went into her bedroom and closed the door. Thrower sat down on the couch, tilted his head back, and let out a deep breath. Part of him thought he was handling this whole thing the wrong way. Maybe there was no right way to handle it.

  Thrower slid down on the couch to lie down. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep in a matter of minutes. He woke up several hours later and looked at his watch. It was midnight. He sat up and yawned.

  He then got up and walked over to the bathroom. As soon as Thrower came out, the bedroom door opened. He and St. James almost bumped into each other.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She smiled and leaned against the wall. “I was just gonna get a drink.”

  “Oh. OK.”

  That awkward sexual tension that they felt earlier was still prevalent as the two of them stood there staring at each other.

  “I’ve been having trouble sleeping tonight.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Thrower replied.

  “You know, I was thinking…” She moved a little closer to him. “With everything that’s been…”

  The two of them were now an inch or so away from each other. St. James reached up and put her arms around his neck. Their lips gently touched for a moment.

  “We shouldn’t do this,” Thrower whispered, putting his hands on her back.

  “Definitely shouldn’t.”

  Their lips met again. “We shouldn’t get attached.”

  “Probably not.”

  “It’s… not a good idea.”

  “I agree,” St. James murmured.

  Their lips locked once more. “We should stop this.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Their clothes were soon tossed on the floor. Locked in an embrace, they pulled each other into the bedroom.

  The following morning, Thrower woke up, feeling the light of the sun shining down on his face. He started moving, his left arm still around St. James’ naked body. His movements awakened her. Her eyes fluttered and as his face came into focus, she pleasantly smiled. She then nibbled on his lips.

  “Good morning.”

  “Morning,” Thrower replied.

  St. James made a pleasant-sounding groan, obviously happy with their situation. “Do you still think that was a mistake?”

  Thrower smirked. “Probably. But it’s not one I regret.”

  Their lips locked again. “Me neither.”

  She then rubbed his chest while he caressed her back.

  “I guess we’ve come a long way since our first meeting.”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Thrower said.

  “Is this really gonna change things for you?”

  “I hope not.”

  “Do you view me differently now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t wanna stop this,” St. James said.

  “Well, you do have to get ready soon.”

  “No, I don’t mean that. I mean, I do mean that. I love that. But I mean us.”

  “Us… as in… us?”

  “Yeah. You and me. Like… together.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. We haven’t even known each other that long,” Thrower said. “It’s been what… four or five days?”

  “That’s it? With everything going on, it feels like a lifetime.”

  “It kind of does.”

  “Anyway, that doesn’t matter. I enjoy being with you. And over the next few weeks, we’ll be spending a lot of time together.”

  “We live in two different worlds, Monica.”

  “But we don’t have to. We can live in the same world.”

  “And how would that work? One of us quits our job to follow the other around?”

  “You could still be my personal bodyguard. Full-time. Nothing would have to change.”

  “I don’t know,” Thrower said. “I’d have to think about it.”

  She leaned over and kissed him some more. He didn’t object. “Is this so bad?”

  “It’s not bad. It’s just fast. I wouldn’t wanna jump into anything we’re not ready for.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be pushy. I just… really enjoy being with you.”

  “Me too. I’ve been trying to fight it these past couple of days.”

  “I’m glad you finally stopped resisting.”

  Thrower passionately kissed her on the lips. “So am I. So am I.”

  St. James looked at the time. She was disappointed she’d have to get up soon. She’d rather have stayed there in bed all day.

  “This is the first time I can ever remember when I didn’t want to go to work.”

  “Really?”

  “I should take a shower,” St. James said. She got out of bed and stood next to Thrower, still completely naked, tantalizing him. “Perhaps you would like to join me?”

  Thrower smiled. “I really shouldn’t.”

  “Still trying to resist?”

  He got out of bed and kissed her again. “Not anymore.”

  12

  Thrower was standing off to the side, but in clear view of St. James’ position. They were in their fourth and final day in France. This last photo shoot was on the steps of a local museum. There were a bunch of models there, both male and female. Since it was a public place and security was needed for the whole operation, there were already a few police officers standing around, keeping any onlookers at bay.

  With the amount of people around, Thrower felt pretty confident that they were safe for the time being. It was when the crowd dissipated that would be the issue. They still had several hours to go before that, though. Thrower’s phone rang, and he saw that it was his police contact.

  “Hey. What can I do for you?”

  “Nothing. I just thought I should let you know we’ve gone through the backgrounds of each of the three men from the shooting.”

  “And?” Thrower asked.

  “All have criminal histories, though none have anything violent on their records. At least before all this started.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18