Page 10 of Daddy's Little Librarian
“If that doesn’t work, then maybe we can catch him, hopefully before he does me any serious harm, then one of us could call the police, and they could lock him up. At least long enough for me to move safely to someplace else.” He wasn’t saying no. He wasn’t laughing at her, either, and that emboldened her. “Like I said, I’m willing to pay you. Not much, but would three hundred a week be all right with you?” When he only looked at her, she cleared her throat. “It’s all I can afford. Three hundred a week. For about six weeks. All right, not about. That’s it, in a nutshell. Six weeks.”
“Miss…”
“Scotti.”
“Scotti,” he said. “I am not a bodyguard. You need to know that right up front. I used to be a police officer, but I’m not allowed to be that anymore. I’ve never guarded a person. Except for what I’ve seen in the movies, I don’t even know what that job entails. I agree you’ve got a problem, but I would seriously recommend that you find someone with real experience in the kind of protection you need.”
“I can’t pay enough to interest anyone else,” she confessed, her heart sinking. He was saying no. Whether or not he believed her didn’t matter. He was still saying no. “Please don’t feel pressured into doing this. It’s just that I’ve got this feeling like I’m running out of time.”
Kurt took a deep breath. “Look, it’s not that I want to see you get hurt, but I don’t think my grandmother has been totally forthcoming with everything you need to know about me.”
She didn’t know why he would be worried about that, but she moved close enough to lay her hand on his shoulder and did her best to lay those fears to rest. “You’d be surprised, I think. She’s really very proud of you. She talks about you all the time.”
That ticcing muscle leapt as he clenched his jaw. “Did she happen to mention that I’ve been at the Two Rivers Correctional Facility for the last couple years?”
Scotti nodded. “She said you had a job with the state. Were you a guard? Talk about a tough job, herding all those dangerous convicts. You probably know how to handle all sorts of situations. She’s the one who said you’d be perfect for this, and I have to say, I kind of agree.”
“I worked in the laundry, actually.”
She opened her mouth, not at all concerned with what his actual job had been, but then stopped as she realized what that meant.
He smiled, arching both eyebrows again with exaggerated humor.
“Oh,” she said, a tiny thump of shock hitting her. “You mean you were an inmate.”
“I was, and don’t worry”—he shoved off the wall—“I won’t hold you to your proposal.”
“Oh, but don’t you see? That’s even better! You don’t know my ex. You don’t know just how bad Gopher can be.”
“You dated a man named Gopher?”
Dated was such a mild word for it; she winced. “It doesn’t matter, really. What does matter, is that I’m going to need someone who’s strong and tough. Indomitable. A man’s man. Burly and rough.” She was starting to feel desperate and trying hard not to let him hear it in her tone. “Someone who can think with a crafty and—and criminal mind!”
“Thanks,” he drawled, but that twist at the corner of his mouth said he might not be taking it as the compliment that she’d meant it to be. “You don’t even know what I did to get put in prison.”
“I’m not concerned.” She tried to laugh as she said it, because frankly, she was trying not to think about that. Sadie had only ever said he’d been gone because he was ‘working for the state.’ He seemed very nice. Nothing about how he looked or spoke to her suggested he was a bad person. On the other hand, people didn’t get put in jail for no reason. Ever the optimist, she tried to find the silver lining. “You were only in the pokey for a short time, right? Whatever you did, it couldn’t have been that bad of a crime.”
“Pokey?” he echoed. He seemed about to correct her, but stopped himself. He stared at her for a long time, his jaw clenching, bunching and releasing until finally, he shook his head as if shaking himself from his thoughts. “Fine. You know what, it doesn’t matter. It’s better than bussing tables at Pirate Pete’s with a paper squid hat on my head. I’ll do it, but you’re going to listen to me. I say jump, you say how high, got it?”
“Oh, absolutely!” she crossed her heart with her fingers.
“And, I’m not killing him for you. I’m going to make that clear right up front. I’ll help you get moved to a place where Ferret—”
“Gopher.”
“—whatever, can’t find you. I’ll even put you in contact with someone at the station who won’t brush you off. After that, it’s up to you and the police to sort out a more permanent solution to your problem. Right?”
Like Frosty the Snowman under the heat of the sun, all her fears melted inside her. “He’s going to leave me alone after this, isn’t he?”
Kurt didn’t answer, per se. What he said instead, was, “I’m going to take Grams home now, but then I’ll come back. Now, can we please get out of the men’s room?”
Grinning, Scotti led the way.
Chapter Five
The sun was on his shoulders, along with Grams’s book bag. The ninety-two-year-old woman was shuffling along beside him, smiling and humming to herself. The wily old con artist.
“You need to stop telling people I was a cop,” he finally said, as they walked home together.
