Название | Her Sworn Protector |
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Автор произведения | Marie Ferrarella |
Жанр | Зарубежные детективы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Зарубежные детективы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781408901939 |
Coming back from downstairs, Byron didn’t think anything of it when he didn’t see Ari standing guard outside Milos’s bedroom. He’d just assumed that the examination was over and the man he shared bodyguard duties with had gone back into the room.
But when he knocked and heard Kady scream for him, his entire body immediately became alert. Throwing the doors open, he pulled out the weapon he wore holstered beneath his jacket.
A swift visual sweep of the room told him that there was no one else there. Only Ari on the floor, dead from the looks of it, and his employer in the bed, with the doctor frantically working over him.
Frantically trying to tug Milos away from the jaws of death.
“What the hell happened?” he demanded, crossing to her.
Her hair was falling into her face. Kady shook her head, trying to get it out of her eyes. She didn’t look in his direction as the sound of his voice registered. She just kept going. Fighting.
“I don’t know. Someone got in here. When I opened the bathroom door, he’d already shot both of them.”
With amazing speed, Byron checked all the corners, making sure that there was no one else hiding in the recesses. He went back to her.
“Who?” he demanded.
“I don’t know.” Her voice cracked as she kept on pushing at the chest that made no movement on its own, kept blowing into a mouth that was already beginning to feel cool beneath hers.
Distancing himself, Byron processed the scene. Her efforts were futile. There was too much blood. The bullet had been straight to Milos’ chest. Straight to his heart, he guessed. The old man never stood a chance.
He cursed silently that he hadn’t been here. That he’d been downstairs, talking to the mechanic Milos kept on the payroll to care for his twelve automobiles, instead of guarding Milos.
“He’s dead, Doctor.”
The low, calm voice seemed to rumble at her from some faraway place. She shook her head adamantly, never looking up, never stopping.
“No. No, he’s not.” She’d found a pulse. He’d tried to speak. She couldn’t just let Milos slip away.
And then she felt strong, firm hands on either side of her shoulders, lifting her up, drawing her away from the bed. From the man she couldn’t save.
Kady wanted to push the bodyguard away, wanted to go back and fight a fight she knew in her heart she’d already lost. But Byron was too strong for her. His grip was gentle but firm, holding her in place.
Suddenly, as if all the air had gone out of her, Kady felt weak, dizzy. The room began to spin. For a second it threatened to pull itself into darkness, leaving her on the outside to fend for herself. It was through sheer grit that she fought her way back from the blurred boundaries, fought back the nausea.
Trying to get a grip, Kady drew a deep breath into her lungs before she looked up at the man holding her. She saw concern in his eyes. Or maybe she just imagined it.
Either way, she felt like an idiot. She was made of sterner stuff than this. “Sorry. I don’t usually fall apart like this.”
“I don’t see any pieces,” he replied crisply. She felt fragile, like the scent of cherry blossoms. He hesitated backing off. “If I let you go, do you think you can stand?”
She raised her chin and tried to sound confident. Inside, the jelly had yet to solidify. “Yes.”
He let her go by degrees, holding her a moment longer, then drawing his hands away slowly. All the while, he watched her face for any telltale signs that she would collapse or faint once he took his support away. There wasn’t anything he could do for Milos, or Ari. But there was something he could do for her. He could keep her together.
Quickly, his eyes swept over her torso, checking. “Are you hurt?”
“No.”
At least not physically, she thought. But mentally, she knew she was shell-shocked and would be for some time to come. It seemed strange to her that nothing like this had ever happened to her in the clinic where she volunteered. There she would have expected it. Yet here, in an exclusive neighborhood, she’d been a hair’s breadth away from being killed.
Her eyes met his. Her lips felt dry as she spoke. “I don’t think the killer saw me.”
“Was there only one?” he wanted to know.
She couldn’t answer that with certainty. All she could tell Byron was what she knew. “There might have been more, but I only saw one man.”
Kady looked back over her shoulder at the man who’d flirted with her only ten minutes ago. He’d been so vibrant, so full of life then. And now…
This shouldn’t have happened.
She looked back at Byron again. “What kind of security system does this penthouse have?” she demanded angrily. Shouldn’t something have gone off when the killer got in? When he escaped?
“One that was obviously bypassed.” Unlike hers, Byron’s voice was stoic.
Releasing her, he walked over to the intercom located on the wall beside Milos’s bed. There was an intercom in every room of the penthouse. Pressing the button down, Byron said, “This is Byron. I want everyone up here outside Mr. Plageanos’s bedroom. Now.”
Was he planning on interrogating everyone on the staff? That wasn’t how things were done. With a heavy heart, Kady moved back to the bed. To the man she’d come to regard with affection.
I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.
Looking up, she saw Byron watching her. Kady braced her shoulders. “You have to call the police.”
He looked at her for a long moment before answering. Was he annoyed because she’d said that? Did he think she was trying to tell him what to do?
“I know procedure.”
The way he said it made her think he’d been through this before. And made her realize that she really knew nothing about this man she’d shared less than a handful of car rides with.
“You’re a cop?”
“Was,” he corrected.
Like her sisters, she possessed more than her share of curiosity. Even in the face of tragedy, she needed to know things.
“What happened?” she heard herself asking.
Byron didn’t answer. Instead, he shook his head. “Too much to talk about now.”
Kady wasn’t completely certain she could assimilate anything he told her now anyway. So she nodded, letting the matter drop. Digging into her pocket, Kady pulled out her cell phone and then flipped it open.
Byron looked at her sharply. “Who are you calling?”
God, but she felt drained. Drained and useless and angry. She felt as if she was going in all directions at once. His tone irritated her more than it should have.
“My brother-in-law. He is a cop,” she told him. “Homicide. Tony Santini.”
The information came in small, square sound bites, dribbling from her lips. Kady clung to the numbness, knowing that once it was gone, what would come in its wake would be overwhelming and devastating.
Crossing back to her, Byron placed his hand over her cell phone and closed it, leaving it in the palm of her hand. Kady looked at him, confused. “We have to call the police,” she insisted.
“And I will. If your brother-in-law is called in to investigate, there might be questions later on.”
She