Bodyguard Reunion. Beverly Long

he said.

      A knock on the door made her jerk. Royce motioned for her to stay where she was. He looked through the peephole. “Room service,” he whispered, turning to look back at her. “Fast.”

      “Bet the orders from the suites get priority.”

      This from Charity who’d again emerged from her bedroom. She was carrying Hogi. The cat seemed calmer and when Charity put him down, he promptly jumped into one of the deep windowsills and pressed his nose up against the pane.

      Royce opened the door and motioned the young man outside to come in. Then he watched him like a hawk, as if confident that he was intent upon doing them harm versus getting the tray delivered and returning to the kitchen for the next one.

      She signed the room charge slip and added a generous tip, not only because of Royce’s scrutiny but partially in pity for the checkered bow tie and cummerbund the poor man had to wear. She’d always thought periwinkle blue was sort of a pretty color before this, but the combination of it and olive green just wasn’t nice.

      Once he was gone, the three of them sat down at the glass-topped table. For a few minutes, the only sounds in the room was silverware softly clicking against the plates.

      Royce was almost half-done with his burger before he spoke again. “So, Charity, are you a student?”

      “Like in college?” Charity said, her upper lip raised in a sneer.

      Royce nodded.

      “Not for me,” Charity said.

      Royce put down his fork. “So you’re working?”

      “I would,” Charity said. “But nobody seems inclined to help me have the American dream.”

      If Charity had come across as snippy in the interviews as she was acting now, JC understood why she was unemployed. But based on what the private detective had been able to dig up, the kid had had some hard knocks and she suspected some of Charity’s bravado was more for show. “I have a few contacts,” JC said. “I’d be happy to make some calls.”

      “We’ll see,” Charity said.

      JC snuck a look at the clock in the kitchen. She did not live in a world where one wasted a whole morning. Not that meeting Charity had been a waste. No, that was totally worth it. But to miss a whole morning of work was going to set her back substantially. “I have to be at the Wallington in an hour,” she said, looking at Royce.

      He nodded. “That hotel is fairly new, at the far end of the strip. Will take about fifteen minutes to get there.”

      JC pushed back her chair. “I’m going to get ready,” she said.

      Charity stood up, too. “I’m going down to the pool.”

      She smiled at the young woman. “Great. Have a good afternoon. Let’s plan to eat dinner together at seven.”

      * * *

      He knew there really was no reason that Charity couldn’t use the hotel services. While they’d arrived back at the hotel together, it was still unlikely that anyone would readily connect her to Jules. And, even if scumbag Bobby had somehow already wrangled a way out of jail, he wouldn’t know to come to the Periwinkle.

      Besides, it wasn’t his job to protect Charity.

      But for whatever reason, it seemed as if Charity was important to Jules, and that quite frankly made her important to Royce. Even if she was uneducated, unemployed and not terribly concerned about either.

      Not in school, not working. Not impressive. If she intended to shake down Jules for money, he hoped Jules was smarter than that.

      While Jules got ready for her meeting and Charity got ready for the pool, Royce made phone calls. The first one was to a trusted contact within the Vegas police department. After their brief conversation, Royce was satisfied that he’d know about Bobby’s release before Bobby would.

      The man had had his hands around Jules’s neck. That vision was going to linger in Royce’s brain for a while and it put Bobby on the list of people to watch.

      Next he started a background search on Charity. Jules seemed satisfied that their mothers had been friends, so that automatically made Charity a friend. Royce wasn’t so easily convinced. He suspected Jules would be irritated that he’d initiated the background search, but that wasn’t his concern right now.

      He was focused on keeping her alive.

      When Jules came out of her bedroom, she’d changed out of her casual sweater, skirt and boots to a sapphire-blue suit with a white blouse. She looked crisp and professional, and he knew that when she walked into a room, both the women and the men there would take notice. The women would be a little jealous, secretly wishing they could pull off the same look.

      The men—well, that was simple. They’d all want to have her in their beds.

      It had gotten him in trouble once before.