Leah Braemel - Personal Protection

“So no description,” Andy finished in disgust.

“We know it’s probably a male between 5’10 and 6’2, no age, no hair color, possibly white but we’re not even sure of that.”

“Just dandy. That narrows it down a whole bunch.” Andy straightened from his place on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned in. “Didn’t the guard on duty check his ID before he let him in?”

“He was…otherwise occupied.”

Andy snorted. “Tell me the idjit wasn’t in the bathroom givin’ himself a hand job or smokin’ up.”

“He said he’d left his desk to investigate the smell of pot coming from the stairwell. Says he wasn’t out of sight from the front door for more than sixty seconds. I figure it was probably more like a couple minutes. In any case, we’re re-examining the building’s security.” Chad tossed the file folder on Sam’s desk, then hitched one hip on the desk. “Sam’s also received threatening calls to his home phone.”

“Three.” They looked up as one, startled that Sam had rejoined the conversation. “You’re making it sound like I’ve received dozens. I’ve only received three calls.”

From the corner of her eye, Rosie saw Chad shaking his head in frustration.

“Did you recognize the voice?” she asked.

“No. It was a male, no accent that I could hear, street noises in the background but nothing recognizable.” He bit the words out. “First time he talked about how he’d seen me that day and how easy it would be to take me out. How he wished he’d had his gun, then he hung up. He’s gotten a bit more creative since but nothing specific about what I did to make him want to kill me.” He resumed his study of the parking lot.

“What’s Caller ID show?” Kris asked.

“He’s using pay phones at various locations around the city,” Chad answered when Sam didn’t respond. “We’ve checked the addresses, but so far there’ve been no security cameras near the phones. When we dusted the phones for prints, they’d been wiped clean.”

While Kris, Chad and Andy continued to discuss who might have that information, and how easy it might or might not be to find, Rosie let the conversation flow past her and observed Sam ignoring them all. He had eschewed protection for three months, and even now stood in front of a window, a clear target. Was he trying to prove his invincibility? That he wasn’t afraid?

His eyes scanned the rear parking lot, the field beyond. Alert. Aware. But not an ounce of fear.

Maybe he was being driven by guilt. Did he have a death wish? Because if he did, that would make her job that much harder.

She glanced back down at the photo of the leggy blonde. What she wouldn’t give for another eight inches in height and blonde hair. She’d tried peroxide once, but it wasn’t worth the trouble, not with her complexion. But maybe she should consider it again if that’s what it took to get Sam Watson’s attention.

In the reflection of the glass, his eyes met hers. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t, the darkness of his gaze drawing her in, compelling her to keep the contact. There was heat in his gaze, need.

“With all due respect, Mr. Watson, may I ask you to move away from the window? If someone is watching, you’re presenting a good target right now,” Rosie said, glad to hear her voice was steady.

There was a moment’s hesitation before Sam sat in his chair. There was a flare of frustration in his eyes before he veiled his expression.

No, not guilt. Frustration at having to place his life in someone else’s hands. Sam Watson was a pride-filled ego-driven walking pile of testosterone.

I’m not letting this whacko get you on my watch, buddy. Better a hit to your ego than your life.

As if sensing her challenge, Sam leaned back, dropping his chin to his chest. His gaze dropped from hers to her lips, then made a leisurely perusal of her chest before slowly travelling a reverse route and catching her gaze once more.

Ready to burst into flames, she dropped her gaze to his lips and imagined them kissing her breasts, his teeth nipping and catching her nipples, suckling them. His fingers flexed, drawing her attention. What would it feel like to have those long fingers caress her bare skin, blaze a trail down her stomach, down to that aching area between her thighs and stroke her clit, pressing deep inside-

“-you think, Rosie?”

Rosie blinked and looked at Kris, who nudged her with his knee. He was staring at her as if she’d grown a third eye in the middle of her forehead.

“Don’t you agree?” he asked as if repeating a question.

Agree? To what?

“Yes, I do,” she quickly answered. So unprofessional, her conscience lectured. Your boss needs a bodyguard, not a lover. Besides, she had an unbreakable rule about never dating co-workers. A glance at Sam and that one tilted eyebrow told her he knew exactly what she’d been thinking about instead of work. “Who else knows the security code of your condo?”

“Me,” Sam said with not a little irritation. “My cleaning crew, and it’s probably on file somewhere here in case of emergency-Sandy may have it. The IT guys possibly could access it.”

“I hate to say this, but it’s looking like an inside job.” Andy set the photos he’d collected on the desk. “I think we should look at Hauberk employees-those who might have received a bad report, or have recently quit.”

“Goddamn it! It’s not a Hauberk employee.” Sam laced his fingers together, clasping them so hard the nail beds were white.

“Andy’s right, Sam. We can’t rule anybody out at this time,” Chad said quietly. “Very few people have access to your private phone number. Even less to your security code.”

Rosie recognized the Voice of Reason coming out in him, and heard the steel behind it as well. As much as Sam Watson was bucking the truth, Chad wouldn’t let him ignore it.

Go Chad.

“They could have pretexted the phone number from the goddamned phone company. From security at the condo. You know how easy it is to get information-they phone up and pretend they’re me, or my mother, for Christ’s sake.” Sam took a deep breath and continued in a more normal tone, though his smooth southern accent had disappeared.

“Damn it, Chad. It’s not an employee. Not one of mine. You know everyone has to go through background checks.” He swiveled his chair around to the window again, his head resting on his thumb and forefinger at his temple. “It’s not an employee.”

She wanted to reach over and lay her hand on his but knew she couldn’t. Instead she sat back, considering the ramifications that it might be someone they worked with. The idea that someone she worked with might wish ill of their boss was terrifying, especially given the capabilities and backgrounds of some of her co-workers.

Chad cleared his throat. “We’ll assume Sam’s safe while he’s inside this building. Besides if anyone did try anything, there’ll be enough people around to stop whoever it is.”

If it was one of them, Sam might be safer out of the office.

“Outside of the office, I want you to treat this as a high-level protection assignment. We have no idea what type of attack to expect. We have no idea what to expect-watch for a sniper, a close attack, or even a bomb.”

Sam cursed-not low enough to be said it was under his breath, but loud enough to let them know Chad’s suggestion annoyed him.

He shot a look at Sam who sighed and nodded his head once. “I want at least two of you with him from the moment he leaves this building to when he walks back in the next day. You escort him everywhere he goes. Don’t forget to check his mail every day and make sure there are no nasty surprises in it. Don’t take anything for granted.”