Bodyguard Under Fire. Elle James
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young woman behind the counter smiled and shrugged. “I only work part-time in the afternoons after my classes get out at the community college, so I don’t always get the 4-1-1. You’ll have to ask the new manager.”
“Ms. Smithson?” Chuck asked.
“Yes, sir. You can find her at the diner until about two. Then she’ll be back in her office at the resort.”
Chuck glanced at the old-fashioned guest register on the counter, committing the names on the list to memory. Perhaps one of the guests was PJ’s attacker. “Are there many guests this time of year?”
“It’s a slow season, from what they tell me. Only about twenty-five people are here for the week. Many are planning to attend the rodeo in the neighboring town. We get the overflow.”
Chuck made a note to work with Cara Jo to review the list of guests and to get Hank to run a background check on any who might be questionable. Since the attack had just happened only the night before, whoever did it could be new in town, thus needing a place to stay. One close enough where he could study PJ’s every move. Chuck’s fists tightened. The sooner he discovered the culprit and put him in jail—or out of his misery—the better. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around, Alicia.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Chuck went back to work in the stable. By early afternoon, he’d finished mucking stalls and was just emptying a wheelbarrow full of manure in the pile behind the stables when he saw PJ’s car pull out of the rear parking lot of the resort. Even if he hadn’t been tasked with protecting the confounded woman, curiosity got the better of him.
Chuck dusted off his jeans, climbed into his truck and followed. Wild Oak Canyon wasn’t a big enough town to boast a single stoplight. A couple of dozen streets crisscrossed in straight lines on the flat terrain.
PJ pulled into a building a few blocks from the diner.
Chuck waited at a stop sign until PJ went inside before he passed. His heart skipped several beats when he read the sign in front of the neat little house, converted into a business. Hanes and Taylor, Attorneys at Law.
Was that the way she’d play this? Anger spiked as he turned the corner and circled the block. Most likely she was getting legal advice about child custody.
As Chuck rounded the block and came back out on Main, PJ’s car was pulling away from the curb. She hadn’t had time to consult with anyone. She had probably only set up an appointment.
Chuck’s jaw tightened. Tonight, he and PJ would have a talk about Charlie’s future. A future that would include Chuck, by God.
Feeling a bit guilty over stalking PJ, Chuck left a big gap between his truck and her car.
PJ’s next stop was on the other side of town at a quaint little church with a fenced playground out back and a sign out front with the words painted in block letters, Heavenly Hope Day Care.
Chuck kept his distance, parking in an abandoned gas station until PJ came out.
Twenty minutes later, he’d about given up when PJ emerged carrying an infant car seat, Charlie’s little head barely visible over the sides. Her tiny hand waved at the sky, bringing a smile to Chuck’s face.
He wanted to hold his little girl, to get to know her and watch her grow.
Had PJ not shut him out of her life, Chuck would have moved heaven and earth to be there when Charlie came into the world. He sighed. Then again, the army didn’t always let soldiers out of their deployments for the births of their children. Even had PJ told him he was going to be a father, he probably wouldn’t have gotten a furlough to return home for the event.
He could understand some of the reasoning behind PJ keeping the birth of his child from him. But Charlie was three months old. Chuck had been back in the States for a month of that, in the hospital for rehab and then processing out of the military.
After almost a year’s separation, he’d thought he’d be over PJ, but that was as far from the truth as he could get.
The woman had never been far from his mind, and his job of protecting her would only put them closer still.
Chuck considered asking Hank to pull him from this case. But who did he know he could trust to guarantee PJ’s safety? And who had as much at stake when it came to Charlie?
If the Mexican Mafia was after PJ and Charlie, he’d need a friggin’ army to surround her, especially in this part of south Texas where drugs traveled across the border seemingly unconstrained. There were enough Mafia members on both sides of the border that if they wanted PJ and Charlie, one cowboy wasn’t going to stop them. Chuck wondered if the four cowboys Hank had hired made up the entirety of Covert Cowboys, Inc., or if Hank had additional help he hadn’t met yet.
Chuck stayed behind PJ as she drove back to her apartment. He gave her five minutes to unload and get into her room before he parked and climbed out.
The more he thought about PJ and Charlie being at risk with the Mexican Mafia, the more he needed to know about those he might be up against. A visit with Hank’s computer guru who had access to just about anything that had a computer footprint was in order. But first, he had to make sure PJ and Charlie would be okay.
Chuck scanned the parking lot, noting all the shadowy areas a person could hide to ambush an unsuspecting mother. He made notes to himself to trim back bushes and install motion-sensor lighting to ward off surprise attacks. Since he, PJ and Cara Jo were the only people who should be parking behind the buildings, safety in numbers wasn’t really an option.
At the top of the staircase leading to the pair of apartments he and PJ occupied, Chuck paused and surveyed the hallway. The light overhead gave a dingy glow. He’d clean the globe and change the bulbs.
He paused with his fist hovering over PJ’s door and got a good whiff of his own stench. After mucking horse manure for part of the day, he probably smelled like the stuff.
Chuck turned back toward his apartment when PJ’s door jerked open.
“I knew it.”
Chuck spun to face her.
She had Charlie in her arms and a scowl on her face. “You were following me, weren’t you?”
Chuck couldn’t lie to her. “Yes.”
“I don’t need a keeper, so back off.”
“Are you mad because I followed you or because I saw that you stopped at an attorney’s office?” he threw back at her.
Charlie batted at her mother’s face, blowing bubbles with her spit.
Chuck had a hard time staying mad when the baby drew his attention out of the fight.
“I only made an appointment. I figured we’d have to have some kind of agreement written up over visitation with Charlie.”
“We still need to have that talk.”
PJ sighed. “I know.”
“But let me get a shower first. I smell like hell.”
PJ’s nose twitched, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “You really do.”
Chuck’s heart flipped. He’d missed her smile. “Five minutes.”
“Just knock.”
Chuck hurriedly collected his toiletries and ducked beneath the hot spray, scrubbing away a day of hard work. It had been a long time since he’d worked with horses and barnyards. His muscles were stiff from shoveling. Other than digging foxholes, he hadn’t had to shovel much in the army, and he could tell the muscles had been neglected. And his bum leg ached like hell.
He let the warm water pepper his muscles as he collected his thoughts for the coming confrontation with PJ.
Showered and dressed in clean clothes, he knocked on PJ’s door.
“Just