Be On The Lookout: Bodyguard. Tyler Snell Anne
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Kate shook her head.
“I just saw it and then knocked on your door.”
“Good, come on.”
He motioned for her to go into his room. Her concerned look turned stubborn immediately.
“Shouldn’t we call someone?”
“We will, but inside the room,” he said, holding back a building tidal wave of frustration only she seemed to be able to produce within him. “If you haven’t noticed, the longest trail of blood hasn’t even made it to the carpet yet.”
Kate whipped her head back to the door and he knew when she saw what he was talking about.
“Which means—” Jonathan started before she cut him off.
“That it hasn’t been there long at all.”
“A plus for the scientist,” he said, waving her through again.
This time she followed instructions without resistance.
“Call the front desk and get the manager up here,” he said, following her in and immediately going to his still-packed bag. “Let them know that you’re also calling the cops.” Kate’s mouth opened and closed, like a fish out of water. “Listen, there’s no doubt in my mind this letter is connected to the others you’ve been receiving. Which means his anger is escalating.” He held up his fingers to tick off his points as he made them. “One large ‘stop’ instead of a page filled with the word. Real blood, not fake. On your hotel-room door, states away from home. Even that stubborn brain of yours has to see that whoever is behind these letters is getting angrier.”
He watched as the urge to fight back—to be the one making complete sense—flashed across her face. Thankfully, it disappeared quickly. In its place was the face of a woman who finally agreed with him. She nodded.
“Which asks the question...what’s next?”
“Let’s make sure we never have to find out. Now call the front desk and, if you don’t want to see me naked, turn around.”
Jonathan saw her cheeks redden, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. Someone had left a letter soaked in blood as a warning to Kate—a violent threat. Jonathan not only wanted to protect her from that person, he wanted to find and stop them, too.
He changed into a white T-shirt and covered it with a gray button-down and a pair of khakis that were a bit tighter than he liked thanks to his recently changed leg workouts. Once he put on his boots, though, he wasn’t thinking about how his clothes looked. His mind was already focused outside the hotel room.
“The front-desk guy, Jett, the one who checked you in, said a manager is on the way up,” Kate said, eyes still averted. “He sounded more than concerned.”
“Good, he should be.”
Jonathan grabbed his cell phone and rummaged through his bags until he found something he had hoped he wouldn’t even have to think about while on contract.
“Orion prides itself on always trying to use nonlethal means to protect our clients,” he said, walking to the other side of the bed where Kate sat with the phone. “But since you refused a second bodyguard and now you’re getting bloody letters on your door, I’m going to give you this and warn you to be careful.” Jonathan extended the small block of plastic to her. It was black with a strip of school-bus yellow across the grips on either side and about as heavy as it looked. “Do I need to show you how to use it?”
Kate’s eyes had widened when she realized what it was, but the surprise didn’t last long.
“I’m a woman who lives by herself,” she said, taking it carefully and placing it on the nightstand. “I know how to use a Taser, Mr. Bodyguard.”
“Good to know, Miss Scientist,” he said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her. “Now call the police and don’t open this door until I come back.”
“Where are you going?”
“To find out who left that note,” he said, already at the door and opening it. “And to find out how they knew exactly what room you were in.”
* * *
THE MANAGER WAS a woman named Lola Teague and she was as concerned as she was determined to help. She met Jonathan at the elevator, sporting a dark navy pantsuit, heels and a name tag that caught the fluorescent lights. Jonathan placed Lola in her fifties, with impeccably styled dark hair, matching pristine posture and laugh lines at the corners of her eyes.
When she saw the note on the door, she definitely wasn’t laughing.
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