Bodyguard Reunion. Margaret Daley

him right for playing the macho male. She presented an innocent expression. “You okay? You should be checked out by a doctor.”

      He turned toward Rob and the intruder. “I’m fine. It’s happened before. Don’t worry.”

      “I’m not. You know how to take care of yourself,” Chloe fired back, not wanting him to think she had been worried about him. But I was. Yeah, and that’s the problem. My focus needs to be on Mary and Paul, not T.J.

      Though she tried not to, Chloe slanted a look toward T.J., his strong jaw set in a hard line, his usually neat and professional medium-length black hair messy from wrestling with an assailant. A vision of her running her hand through that hair was quickly replaced with another memory of the touch of his day-old beard beneath her fingers as she framed his face and leaned in to kiss...

      Chloe shook the thoughts from her mind. That was the past. T.J. had made it clear that he had no room for a wife in his life, and then he’d flown to Washington to guard the vice president. She made a mistake only once—never twice.

      “What were you doing here?” Rob asked the tall, lanky man, dragging Chloe’s attention to their current situation.

      “I don’t deserve this kind of treatment. I’m not a criminal. I demand these handcuffs be taken off me, too.” The trespasser tossed his head toward T.J. “He chased me. Tackled me. I’m the victim here.”

      “What were you doing here?” A steel thread ran through her friend’s voice. “Or if you can’t answer that question, maybe you can manage telling me who you are?”

      The guy drew himself up even taller. “I’m a reporter for the Texas Inquirer News and was here to interview the Zimmermans.”

      “At ten o’clock at night?” Chloe asked, all three men turning their attention to her.

      The prowler shrugged. “The lights were on, so I thought they were up.”

      Chloe folded her arms over her chest, trying to ignore T.J.’s gaze on her, which she was finding was next to impossible. “So you decided to go around to the back of the house and knock on the kitchen door? Is that your normal way to interview people? Perhaps you wanted to peep into windows to make sure people were up at this hour.”

      T.J. laughed and looked back at the intruder. “Who told you the Zimmermans were even here?”

      The trespasser’s forehead creased. “They aren’t? My source sounded like they knew.”

      “They? More than one?” T.J. moved to the bottom of the stairs.

      “Only one, but you aren’t getting anything else from me, not even if male or female.” With blood streaked across his face, the reporter lifted his chin and glared at T.J.

      “Who are you? Who is your source?” Rob asked, throwing a look to be quiet at Chloe and T.J.

      “I’m Artie Franklin. I won’t tell you my source. I don’t have to. You’ll find my credentials in my wallet in my back pocket.”

      Rob approached the man, removed his billfold and flipped it open. “Being a reporter doesn’t give you free rein.” He indicated to the officer nearby to take the man to the station, handing his patrol partner the wallet. “I’ll be there soon.” After the pair left with Artie Franklin, Rob climbed the stairs. “Let’s finish this inside. It’s freezing out here.”

      Chloe hadn’t felt the cold because energy had been charging through her, the adrenaline only now beginning to subside. “I want to know who told him the Zimmermans were here.”

      “So do I.” T.J. held the door open for Rob and Chloe, and then followed them into the house.

      “I’ll do my best to put pressure on him, but I’ve dealt with a few like this Artie Franklin. They will protect their sources at all costs.”

      Chloe swung around in the spacious foyer. “Give me a chance to talk to him. He might tell me. I didn’t pound him into the ground and threaten him with a gun.”

      T.J. quirked a grin, then winced. “Hey, you wanted me to stop him. I did.”

      “The bottom line is that he found us when only a few knew the Zimmermans were staying here. We need to find out who leaked the info.”

      “It only takes one person saying something for it to get out. That’s why in WitSec there are such strict protocols in place.” T.J. looked her in the eye. “We’re going to have to do the same thing.”

      She nodded. “We’ll be moving from here, but I’ll check in with you, Rob, to find out what you get from this Franklin character.”

      Rob frowned. “I don’t like y’all being out of contact with me. I understand the Zimmermans have two more stops in the Dallas area. Will they be attending those?”

      “I think they should cancel the tour, but it—”

      “Yes, we’ll be going to them.” Paul interrupted Chloe. “We have people who are expecting to see us. We’ll be attending both of those events. Mary and I have prayed about this and feel it’s what we have to do.”

      Chloe spun around and faced the man. “Someone is after both of you. The wise thing to do is to put a stop to this tour.”

      Mary came up beside her husband. “That’s why our publisher hired you and T.J. You’ll protect us, but more important, the Lord will.”

      “Oh, great. Logic won’t sway them,” T.J. mumbled close to Chloe.

      “Hush,” she whispered, then faced the couple. “We’re moving. That’s the least we can do, since someone knows you two are here. Go pack. I want to be gone in half an hour.”

      As the Zimmermans mounted the stairs, Chloe shifted toward Rob. “I’ll keep you informed, but we’re going to have to be careful.” She began walking her friend toward the door.

      “Aren’t you going to pack?”

      “I never unpacked.”

      “I’m leaving him here.” Rob waved toward the third officer standing in the entrance into the living room. “I’d feel better.”

      She opened the front door. “Fine. But he isn’t to follow us. Okay?”

      “I figured you’d say that. But you’ve got to promise me you’ll call if there’s more trouble.”

      “I will. You and I go back years.” She watched him leave before turning toward T.J. “I may not have to pack, but it looks like you need to clean up. When we get to the new safe house, we need to decide which one of us is in charge. Both of us can’t be. It isn’t working.” The best way to resist T.J.’s appeal was to concentrate on the job and keep everything professional. Or she would find herself falling in love again.

      “Agreed.” T.J. headed toward the rear part of the house.

      Just before he disappeared down the hallway, a scream pierced the air.