Tyler Snell - Private Bodyguard

She flipped through a few pages until she found the entries from the night before. Three people had checked in. All were after 6:00 p.m., and none of them were Nigel Marks. A car door shut in the parking lot, and for the second time that day, Darling took a picture of something she probably shouldn’t have. This time it was with her phone, but that reminded her she needed to hide her camera or else Derrick would take it from her. He was always suspicious of her, which, she guessed, was deserved in this case. She grabbed the camera, put it in the bottom drawer of the desk and replaced the registry seconds before Deputy Derrick came into the office.

“Two times in one day, huh?” she greeted him. Derrick didn’t think it was funny. She sobered. “Sorry, it’s been a weird day.”

Whatever he had been about to say, he must have changed his mind. His face softened.

“What room?” he asked.

“Room 212. Dan is waiting outside. I told him not to go back in, like you said.”

Derrick nodded. Behind his knitted brows, he was probably running through police procedures.

“You okay?” he asked when she kept staring. “I mean, like emotionally,” he tacked on. He had never been that great at talking about feelings, so the question surprised her.

“Yeah, I didn’t really see much.”

He nodded and turned for the door that led to the stairs outside. He paused long enough to add, “And Darling, don’t leave. I have a lot of questions for you.”

“I know.”

* * *

“I NEED YOU to call me as soon as you get this. Something’s happened. Thanks.” Oliver hadn’t recognized the number, but he sure did recognize the voice and the oddness behind it as he listened to Darling’s message. He didn’t have long to think about it, though, before his phone rang again.

This time it was George.

“Oliver, the police are here,” he started. “They want to know if they can come in.”

“The police?”

“Yeah, they say they need to talk to Mr. Marks.”

Oliver looked up as if he could see his client through the ceiling.

“Let them in,” he answered, ending the call.

He left his spot in the kitchen next to the back entrance and walked down the long hallway to the front. Grant, off duty until seven that night, was sitting in the dining room, reading one of the many books he had brought with him. He looked up as Oliver opened the front door.

“Something is up,” Oliver said over his shoulder. A police cruiser was parking next to his rental SUV. Two male cops got out. “I need you on duty right now,” he added, seeing their facial expressions. This wasn’t a courtesy visit.

“Good afternoon, officers,” Oliver said when they were a few feet away.

“Afternoon,” the first one responded. He was in his upper fifties and had almost no hair left on his head. He was built strong but didn’t look intimidating with his short height. “I’m Officer Barker and this is my partner, Officer Clay.” He motioned to the much younger black man next to him, whose lack of hair looked more intentional than his partner’s. “You must be one of Mr. Marks’s bodyguards.”

“Yes, sir. How can I help you?”

Officer Barker looked considerably more uncomfortable than Officer Clay. They shared a glance before Barker straightened his back and answered.

“We need to talk to Mr. Marks,” he said. “Now.”

“Okay,” Oliver said. He turned to nod at Grant, who had been hanging back in the dining room to listen. “Can I ask what about?” Oliver ventured as Grant walked out of the room, heading for the stairs.

Again Oliver caught the feeling of unease that passed between the officers.

“Something’s happened,” Officer Clay answered. Oliver instantly recalled Darling’s voice mail. “We shouldn’t say anything more until we’ve talked to Mr. Marks.”

Oliver wanted to push for more answers but had to remind himself that he was the bodyguard, not Nigel’s personal assistant. He let the officers stand in silence until the man of the hour made his grand appearance.

“Officers,” Nigel said, a question already in his tone. “What can I do for you?”

“We’ll give you some privacy,” Oliver said, falling back into the house with Grant but maintaining a sight line. Nigel didn’t seem to notice, and as soon as they were out of earshot, the officers began to talk in lowered voices.

“What’s going on?” Thomas asked. He had come down the stairs with Nigel, face filled with curiosity. Not that Oliver could blame him.

“The cops are here,” Grant answered. He turned to Oliver. “Do you know what’s going on?”

Oliver watched as Nigel’s entire body visibly tensed.

“No,” he answered. “But I can guess it’s probably not good.”

Probably not good was an understatement. In less than five minutes, Nigel Marks was in the back of the cop cruiser and as mad as a hornet. Before they had driven away, the businessman had asked Thomas to call his lawyer.

“About what?” Thomas had asked.

“I’m being accused of murder,” Nigel had bit back.

All three bodyguards didn’t have time to hide their surprise.

Oliver had had many interesting things happen in his line of work, but he could definitely say a client being accused of murder was a first. No matter the new unique circumstance, he couldn’t forget he was team leader. He sent Grant and Thomas—who had followed Nigel’s directions and was calling Nikki to get the man’s lawyer’s information, and also an earful of confusion from her—to the police station. There they would continue to work as his bodyguards until Nigel was officially convicted of the crime or cleared of it.

Oliver made sure George knew he needed to keep an extravigilant eye on the gate and jumped into his rental, already calling Darling. It wasn’t a coincidence she had called. She knew something.

She always did.

Minutes later, Oliver pulled into the lot of the Mulligan Motel. The coroner’s van along with two police cruisers were parked next to the entrance, while a few guests stood around, but he had eyes only for one woman.

Darling was sitting on a bench next to the lobby’s front door, concentration aimed at her phone. She had been brief during their call but had admitted they had found a dead body. Though how it was linked to Nigel, he wasn’t sure yet.

“Apparently my questions are going to have to be asked a little earlier than planned,” he said by way of a greeting. It made the woman jump, but she didn’t appear angry when she met his eyes. His body tensed at her gaze.

“Believe me, you aren’t the only one who has questions.” She stood and stretched. He was acutely aware of her five-five height, having to incline his head down slightly to look at her. A memory of how easy it was to pick her up into his embrace flashed across his vision. “Where is Nigel, and why aren’t you with him?”

Since Nigel was a client, what went on in the man’s private life was confidential. Oliver was under contract, which meant, unless it was public information, he couldn’t divulge the fact that the businessman had been taken to the jail. Even if the person asking was Darling.

“Grant and Thomas are with him,” was all he gave her. “Now, what’s going on here, and how is it connected with Nigel?”

Darling was visibly trying to hide her anger at not being given a full answer, but she reined in the emotion along with any words born from it. She pushed her shoulders back when she was no longer actively trying to hide her displeasure.

“A body was found in the room your boss was staying in last night,” she answered. Oliver didn’t correct her with the difference between boss and client. His interest level had jumped off the charts instead. He was about to push for more when the Mulligan Motel’s front door swung open and the deputy walked out. His mouth was set in a grim line, one that thinned when he saw Oliver.