Christmas Bodyguard. Margaret Daley
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pry loose the metal clamp that held him captive.
He looked over at his daughter, her eyes still closed, her blood soaking her. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he whispered.
Taking in a deep breath, he composed himself. He couldn’t lose control. Another fortifying gulp of air, then he pulled on the strap and finally disconnected it. Able to move more freely, he braced himself with one foot against the door and the other under the dashboard to compensate for the way the car leaned forward in the ditch. He angled toward his daughter and wrapped the gauze around the worst of her cuts to stem the blood flow. But when he drew his fingers away they were sticky and covered in Abbey’s blood. The sight sent terror straight to his heart.
Abbey moaned and stirred. Her eyes popped open, wide with fear as they linked with his. “Daddy?” She licked her lips, her face screwing up into a panicky look as her tongue ran over some blood. “I’m bleeding.”
“Help is coming, honey.”
He wanted to go around to her side to take a closer look at her injuries. When he shoved at the door, it creaked open, water gushing inside from the ditch. An earthy stench accosted him.
“Don’t leave me, Daddy.” Hysteria coated each word.
He twisted back toward his daughter, the cold water swirling about his feet. A shudder shivered up his body. “I won’t.” In the distance, the sound of the sirens blared. “It won’t be long now,” he said as calmly as possible, while inside the same helplessness he’d experienced when his wife had died five years ago washed over him. Suddenly, a sense of foreboding dominated all senses. Sweat popped out on his forehead. His hands shook.
Why did he feel like someone was watching?
Elizabeth Walker parked her red Trans Am in a space next to the Dallas office building where Guardians, Inc. was located. She’d hoped her boss, Kyra Morgan, wouldn’t have anything for her yet. Although Elizabeth had been home almost a week since her last assignment, she could use another few days for rest and relaxation. Her last job in Phoenix had been a long one—ten weeks. But the call that morning asking her to come in to the office could only mean one thing.
She loved working as a bodyguard with the all-female agency, but some assignments required longer to bounce back from. The job demanded a lot of mental energy, and sometimes physical energy, too. The stress from always being on guard, always scanning the perimeter for trouble and never getting to enjoy the beauty of the moment heightened the importance of her downtime between missions. Kyra knew that well. So the fact that her boss called her in a little early meant this job was important—not something she would want to turn down.
Entering the suite on the second floor, Elizabeth greeted Kyra’s secretary with a smile. “Is she in there?” Elizabeth tossed her head toward the closed door.
Carrie, her expression solemn, nodded. “She has a client with her, but she wanted you to go on in when you arrived.”
“Who’s the new client?”
“I gather someone Kyra knows.”
That might explain why she was here earlier than usual after a taxing assignment. Her specialty was guarding children. She couldn’t see Kyra turning down a friend, and from what her boss had said a couple of days ago, the other four employees who specialized in children were all still on assignments.
She pushed open the door to her employer’s office and stepped into the room. A large man, over six feet, was pacing before Kyra’s desk. As Elizabeth entered, he came to a stop and swiveled toward her. The most piercing gray gaze she’d ever seen homed in on her. For a second she glimpsed surprise in his expression from the slight widening of his eyes to the flare of his nostrils.
“This is Elizabeth Walker.” Kyra came around from behind her desk and gestured toward a seating arrangement consisting of a couch and two wing chairs. “Elizabeth, this is Slade Caulder.” Kyra, long legged and nearly six feet in height, moved toward the seats and took a chair.
Slade tipped his head toward Elizabeth and fit his tall frame into the other wing chair, leaving Elizabeth to take the couch. The intensity pouring off the man charged the air. The hair on her arms stood up.
Poised and professional, Kyra set a pad on her lap and wrote something down on it. “Slade has a problem that needs your expertise. His sixteen-year-old daughter has been threatened, and he needs the services of a bodyguard to protect her. I’ll let him tell you what he’s looking for.”
His body held rigidly, he gripped the arms of the chair and turned his assessing gaze on her. Silence ruled for a long moment as Elizabeth felt catalogued and evaluated. A flicker in his eyes gave her the impression that she fell short. She lifted her chin a notch and focused her attention totally on him. Some people took her petite stature to mean she wasn’t capable of defending someone. They were mistaken.
That sharp gaze switched to her employer. “Kyra, she can’t be more than a few years or so out of high school herself. How can she guard my daughter effectively?”
Elizabeth stiffened and, before Kyra could answer said, “I’m flattered you think I look so young, but I’m nearly thirty.” She bit back the words. “And I can show you my birth certificate if you need proof.”
This time he didn’t try to disguise his surprise as his look locked on hers.
“I assure you, Slade, Elizabeth is highly qualified and has been working for me for three years. She usually handles cases where a child is involved and has been successful in all her assignments. You wanted someone who could blend in with your daughter and her friends, especially at school. As you can see, she’ll be able to.”
“What kind of skills do you have?”
Elizabeth relaxed back on the couch, smoothing her straight black skirt as she crossed her legs. Slade’s glance flicked to her four-inch heels, and she could imagine what he was thinking. She only indulged in wearing heels when she wasn’t working and when she met prospective clients. It added to her height, giving the illusion she was taller than five feet three inches.
“I have a third-degree black belt in tae kwon do. I’m capable of shooting all kinds of guns, but my weapon of choice is a Glock Model 23. My last score on a PPC was 580 out of a possible 600.”
“PPC?”
“Police Pistol Competition. I have taken down a man your size holding a gun on more than one occasion. Do you want me to show you how?”
One dark eyebrow rose. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Why do you think your daughter is in danger?” Elizabeth kept her gaze glued to his, determined not to be the first one to look away.
“It started three days ago when we were in an accident. My daughter was driving when we had a blowout going sixty miles an hour. She’s still learning to drive and couldn’t handle the car. We ended up in a ditch. Next time I teach someone to drive, the first thing on my list will be what to do during a blowout.”
Elizabeth sat forward, clasping her hands loosely together, and asked, “Someone caused your blowout?”
“I didn’t know it at the time, but when my mechanic was going over my car after the wreck, he discovered what he thought looked like a bullet hole by the whitewall. He notified the sheriff and me. Sheriff McCain agrees the blowout was caused by a bullet.”
“Where was this wreck?”
“Not far from my ranch, near Silver Chase toward the end of Highway 156.”
“Could it have been a hunter?” Elizabeth asked, although unease settled across her shoulders.
“At first I thought, maybe. None of us who live out that way allow hunting on our ranches but occasionally someone will try anyway. The sheriff told me it’s hard to shoot a tire out. It would have to be either a lucky shot or someone very skilled.”
“Like a sniper?”
He