Debra Cowan - The Bodyguard - Protecting Plain Jane

“No.”

“Señor, por favor.” The stocky driver was younger than Trip had first suspected. He was guessing by the thickness of his accent that he hadn’t been in the country for very long, either.

Trip pressed further. “He doesn’t work for you or your family?”

“I don’t know. He’s not anyone I recognize.”

“Please, sir. I work for the florist.” He pointed over his shoulder to the road leading toward the cemetery’s north entrance. “I deliver flowers to the Gonzalez funeral down at the chapel.”

“The back of the van’s empty,” Delgado pointed out.

The driver turned to him, as if that proved his innocence. “I already go to the chapel. I’m on my way back to my uncle’s shop now.”

“Then you’re taking the scenic route.”

The driver frowned, not understanding Delgado’s sarcasm.

Trip wanted answers. “What are you doing up here? With this?”

“The man. The man at the chapel—he give me fifty dollars to take this up the hill to the lady with the dog.” With his cuffed hands the driver pushed the corsage bag away from him. “I give it. Please, señor —I good man.”

The unexpected opportunity to put an end to this fueled Trip’s adrenaline. “He could still be at the chapel.”

Cutler nodded. “Sarge, take the car and check it out.”

Delgado caught the keys Trip tossed him. “What are the chances he’s still there?”

“If he’s gone, then you find me footprints, tire tracks, something we can follow. I don’t like having a serial killer with so many ties to my team. And I don’t think we’re just talking about Alex anymore, are we?” His sharp blue eyes didn’t miss a detail, darting down to the clasp of Trip and Charlotte’s hands. “We’re going to wind up having a showdown one of these days, and I’d rather we capture him before he catches us off guard.”

Amen to that.

Delgado revved the engine and turned a U-ie on the narrow road, speeding down toward the chapel.

“I’ll bag this and call the detectives.” Captain Cutler adjusted the bill of his cap as the sky darkened and the rain changed from a few sprinkles to a steady downpour. He opened the van door and urged the driver to climb back inside and slide across to the passenger seat. “I’ll keep an eye on this guy until we hear from Sarge, see if I can get any kind of a description out of him to back up his story.” He nodded toward Charlotte, his face reflecting the same wary concern Trip felt. “Put her in our truck and stay with her.”

Trip was anxious to get Charlotte behind the van’s armored walls as well as out of view of the psycho-pervert who was behind this sick game. “I don’t like the coincidence of that van showing up when we’re here with Charlotte.”

Cutler agreed. “Me, either. Who knew that you were bringing her to the cemetery?”

Charlotte seemed to startle from some deep thought when they looked to her for an answer. “I always tell Dad when I leave the estate. Laura and Kyle were with him in his office, meeting with the event planner they’ve been working with, Jeffrey Beecher. Bailey was there, too. My stepmother wants to host a fundraiser for the city’s botanical gardens once all this rain clears.”

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