Page 57 of Not the Bodyguard's Widow
Kimberly picked up her yogurt. “I’m all ears.”
* * *
The chaise lounge was still in the shade when Elle woke Alex with a tap on his shoulder. Elle pointed downstairs and then at herself and a nearby chair. Alex pointed to a pillow, which Elle handed him; he used it to replace his shoulder as he rolled away from Kimberly’s side.
Alex found his brothers sitting at the kitchen table, a phone between them. “Agent Danes called. He says if Kimberly will agree to file charges for voyeurism, they can hold Hawthorn Thompson for two days. In California, voyeurism is only a misdemeanor, lumped under a statute for invasion of privacy. It isn’t much, but it will give the FBI access to the house and hopefully add more charges.”
“That’s stupid,” said Alex.
“True. But they can put him in jail for twenty-four hours and get a warrant to search both houses. If the video feed also went to the bodyguards or anywhere else, they could add distribution of the material, which carries a stiffer sentence. Depending on how many days they filmed Kimberly, they may be facing multiple charges.”
Alex pushed back from the table. “I don’t even want to think about what they filmed. You saw her this morning. She asked me not to leave so she could take a nap. I told her the most embellished version of our raft story ever to get her to relax. Adam, you should have hero complex.”
“I get it. It nearly killed me when I learned what September’s agent had done. But I had to let September choose what to do and pray it would all work out,” said Adam. “This needs to be Kimberly’s choice.”
“They’ll pick him up today, so he won’t be at the funeral?”
Andrew nodded. “Yes. Agent Danes said they’d work with the local police on that.”
“I get to break the news to Kimberly?”
“You seem to be the best man for the job,” said Adam. “She’ll have to go into the field office. The agents think they can do everything from there and not have to go to the police station too.”
“For the record, I don’t like this.” Alex walked slowly up the stairs.
* * *
Kimberly signed the statement and pushed it across the table to Agent Garcia and a police detective whose name had been mentioned multiple times but refused to stay in her memory. “Is that all?”
The detective picked up the paper. “That is all I need. I got a text from my partner. It looks like the hit-and-run reported this morning in front of your old house was a clear case of self-defense. Since the FBI reported it first, we are putting the circumstances on the report for the insurance companies.”
Kimberly could hear Alex responding to them, but she couldn’t focus on what he was saying—she just wanted out of the little interview room. Away from questions she didn’t have answers for. Away from the assumptions of what recordings were hiding on her fathers-in-law’s computer. Away from the men who might review those recordings.
Alex helped her up and put an arm around her. In the elevator, she leaned her head against his chest to block everything out. Alex placed a protective hand on her back. When the elevator stopped, he got her to the car. If the brothers were talking, she didn’t hear them.
Elle forced an open water bottle into her hand. “I think we should go find some ice cream. We haven’t had any since Monday.”
Kimberly nodded. Ice cream equaled brain freeze, and brain freeze was better than wondering how long the cameras had been there or if Jeremy ever suspected if the cameras had anything to do with him choosing to sleep in separate rooms.
The car started. As Alex held her hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb, Kimberly focused on the warmth radiating from his touch and the computer voice telling Andrew to turn left in one thousand feet, then right in a quarter mile.
She didn’t want to know.
She didn’t want to testify.
She also didn’t want her father-in-law walking free.
Mostly Kimberly didn’t want to feel the cacophony of emotions rushing through her. Yet she couldn’t find anything else to focus on. Andrew parked the SUV. Elle spoke and Kimberly nodded, and Alex placed an ice cream cone in her hand, but the brain freeze wasn’t intense or quick enough. Gradually the soft stream of voices flowed around her, warm and caring. Alex had his hand on her back, and Andrew was telling some lame computer joke. Kimberly smiled, not at the punch line but at everyone’s reactions to the joke. She found Alex’s hand and a safe anchor.
Rocky Road. She half completed the cone before the flavor registered. Kimberly looked at Elle and Alex, wondering who’d ordered for her. Alex of course.
“Anyone up for finding a beach?” Elle grinned, a smudge of blue ice cream clinging to her lip.
“You’ve really never been to the beach?” asked Andrew. “I thought it was just a story.”
“Never.”
Alex moved his thumb across Kimberly’s spine, a gentle nudge indicating that the choice was hers.
