Elizabeth Stewart - Harm’s Way

“Catching her going to the beauty parlor for her regular appointment, especially on the arm of another man, may have pushed him over the edge. In a moment of rage, he ran his car at them, probably intending nothing more than to scare them. But something went wrong and now he’s guilty of hit and run, being hunted by the police. For all we know, he could be in another state, another country, by now.”

Sheila eyed him for a moment, weighing his words.

“But you don’t believe that for an instant, do you?”

Bingo! He had her. Leaning forward, he folded his hands on the desktop.

“No, Ms. Forbes, I don’t,” he told her solemnly. “The car was parked in that alley, waiting for them. It sped up as it came down the street toward them, and there were no skid marks that would have indicated the driver tried to slow down or swerve to avoid them. In combination with everything else, including the possibility that this person did indeed kill that homeless beggar, I think Ms. Collier could still be in serious danger.”

“Then perhaps going away to her retreat for the summer might be a good idea.”

“Depends.” He had to be careful now. Lead her to the right conclusion but not seem overly anxious. “Where is this retreat? Is it secluded? Does she have a telephone to call for help? How far away would that help be? How long would it take to get to her? Are there close neighbors? Would she be alone?”

“I’ve never been there myself, but from what Elgin and Martha tell me, it’s in the middle of nowhere someplace upstate. No phone, no neighbors. Says that’s why she bought it, although she’s spent practically no time up there. But she’s truly frightened now and predictably, she’s running. It’s her pattern when she doesn’t want to face something.”

“What about her secretary? Is she going?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Sheila sighed. “Elgin’s cooked up this hare-brained scheme for throwing the stalker off the scent and getting away. Says when she’s gone, even you won’t be able to find her.”

Sounded just like that wise-ass bitch, he thought, but he had to keep his head.

“Beyond advising strongly against it, I don’t know what else to suggest.”

“What about surveillance?” Sheila offered. “Shadow her as you did in the beginning. She wouldn’t even have to know.”

Smart question but he had all the answers now…

“Tailing someone in a large, crowded city,” he began slowly, “is one thing. Tailing them in the country is another. For one thing, it’s hard to remain anonymous, blend into a small, isolated place where everyone knows each other and a stranger sticks out like a sore thumb.” He paused a heartbeat and shook his head.

“No, I don’t think having someone tailing her, especially the multiple people needed for twenty-four/seven duty for three months would work.” Pausing again, he looked into the other woman’s eyes for some sign his clues were being picked up.

“Maybe if we could plant someone at her cabin…a handyman say… Of course, in that case, she’d probably choose someone local.”

Sheila sat quietly again and Harm forced himself to wait as well. The suspense was killing him.

“Suppose,” she said finally, “she brought someone with her?”

“Brought someone with her?” he repeated, sure now of her direction and almost breathless with excitement.

“Yes. A secretary or a companion. You must have female detectives who could pretend to be her secretary but would really be her bodyguard.”

Another sharp question. Smarter than he’d given her credit for. But he’d always been good at thinking on his feet and he recovered quickly.

“Of course we have female agents,” Harm answered, “any one of whom would be excellent. But…”

“But what?”

“I just had a thought. Something almost guaranteed to provide Ms. Collier with optimum personal protection and privacy.”

“And that would be…?”

“A male agent.”

“What?” Sheila barked, amazed at the suggestion.

“Certainly. Not only would she have protection from the stalker should he actually find her, but from the local wolves as well. Nothing would insure Ms. Collier’s privacy like a man around the place.”

“That makes a certain amount of sense,” she agreed. “In fact, I like the idea very much. Provided, of course, that you handle this personally.”

He wanted to jump for joy! Leap across the desk and kiss her. But the scene had to be finished.

“I don’t know, Ms. Forbes,” he feigned concern. “I mean, aside from the personal animosity that Ms. Collier seems to have for me which might make close, daily contact unpleasant for both of us, I have a business to run. I can’t just go off and leave it for three months. I have several very good men…”

“Peter Fowler is a good man,” she cut in, “and he ended up in the street, half dead. ‘Good’ is no longer acceptable, Mr. Harm, I want the best and that’s you. I’ll give you a retainer today of whatever amount you say. The arrangements in our last contract were agreeable. Have a copy sent over at your convenience. I’ll call Ellie and tell her you’ll be by tomorrow to discuss the details of the trip. Say three-ish. I’ll call you if there’s a change.”

They got to their feet and shook hands.

“Thank you, Mr. Harm. I hope this whole thing is resolved by the time you get back.”

“I hope so, too, Ms. Forbes.”

“Goodbye then.”

“Goodbye.”

For a long time after she left, Harm slouched lazily in his chair and considered his good luck. He’d gotten a second chance to catch the guy who’d almost killed his friend. So far he’d eluded the police, but he wouldn’t get away from C. A. Harm.

As soon as he got the location of this retreat, he’d send his people in to scout the place. Check out the terrain, the locals, the cabin’s physical layout. A GPS tracking device on the car. Infrared scanners and night vision scopes for stealthy, round-the-clock surveillance.

Of course, using Elgin Collier without her knowledge as bait for a lunatic didn’t sit completely well with him but he had no choice if he wanted to catch this guy. And he did want that. Very much.

Besides, she wouldn’t be in real danger; he’d see to her safety personally. That’s what he got paid to do. And a man hanging around her, living in her cabin with her, only increased the pressure, upped the chances that his quarry would be forced into making a move.

Pete hadn’t been expecting him. But Harm would be waiting. With both barrels.

“Let’s get one thing straight, from the beginning, Mr. Harm. I’m submitting to Sheila’s blackmail only because I have no choice. Personally, I’d rather eat ground glass than spend one day, much less three months with you.”

“Fine. Then you won’t be offended when I tell you I’m getting hazardous duty pay for this job.” The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly.

Baboon!

“If the job’s so distasteful,” she goaded, “you certainly didn’t have to take it. Yourself, I mean. Surely you must have minions you could have foisted me off on.”

“Not after what happened to Pete Fowler,” he shot back without thinking.

Elgin blanched as if the words had struck her physically. A look of real pain appeared in her dark eyes and unaccountably, he felt an instant pang of sorry. An apology formed in his throat and he had a momentary urge to reach out and touch…no, comfort her.

A look of cold fury replaced the pain. Taking a step closer, she pulled herself straight and glared up into his face.

“How dare you speak to me like that you knuckle-dragging Neanderthal,” she growled. “I didn’t shove Pete in front of that car. You put him in that street. You and Sheila and some maniac. Difficult as it may be for your macho, pea brain to accept, Pete’s my friend too.” Her voice caught and she had to stop a second to regroup.