Page 29 of The Bodyguard's Fall

Who knew?

My fingers hovered over the keyboard, wondering what and how much I could tell my boss.

Instead, I picked up my burner phone and rifled through my bag to find my little black book and plugged in Will’s number.

Me: In all the craziness, I forgot a huge meeting at work yesterday. My boss is threatening to call the police because she can’t get a hold of me. I know she’s going to ask, so can I give her my phone number? Address?

Will: Who is this?

Me: I have to be sitting in the swather with Tate in fifteen minutes. You’d better start answering.

Will: Are you two friends yet?

Me: WILL

Will: We’ve vetted the people you work with extensively. You can let her know you’ve had an address change, but don’t email it to her. If she absolutely has to have it on file, call her with it. DO NOT PUT IT IN WRITING.

Me: What if she asks for details?

Will: Just tell her the bare minimum. Call her with it.

Me: Fine. How are things? Catch a bad guy yet?

Will: Nothing yet. I’ll keep you posted.

My phone call with Elaine went as well as could be expected.

“Well, look who’s alive,” she said in her no-nonsense New York accent when she heard my voice.

I cringed inwardly at her choice of words. I was alive, despite the fact that I was currently disobeying my thorough bodyguard by having the windows open. Just a bit. It felt over the top to be here hiding out. The birds were chirping outside my window. The leaves were rustling and starting to change colors. Bright sunshine streamed into my windows.

It was too beautiful a day to have a stalker.

At home, in my darkened apartment complete with four different locks on my door, yes, I had a stalker. But here, it felt impossible. Being with the Walkers felt too normal for a person to be in danger.

Also, deep down, the idea of defying Tate’s orders, if only for a moment, gave me an inordinate amount of pleasure.

“Hey, Elaine. I’m so sorry about yesterday.”

“Where were you? Why doesn’t your number work?” she demanded. I imagined her sitting at her desk, picking at her teeth in a little mirror while she peppered me for answers. “There were so many worst-case scenarios running around in my head.”

“What was the worst one?” I asked, curious.

“That you don’t get your manuscript finished in time. With you being dead a close second,” she lamented generously.

I breathed out a laugh, holding the phone to my ear as I lay back on the bed. Briefly, I imagined Tate’s long body stretched out on the very same mattress before I brushed the thought away.

“You know how I told you about that creepy guy sending me things a few months ago?”

“Yes.”

“Liar,” I called out. Elaine loved me as an employee, but I wasn’t under any impression that I meant much more to her than that.

“I do remember. Didn’t you leave him at the restaurant and escape through a bathroom window? How very early 2000s rom-com of you, by the way.”

“Yeah, well, he’s gotten worse since then. I’ve been relocated for a bit. Hopefully it’s just for a week.”

There was a beat of silence while Elaine processed.