Page 15 of The Bombshell and the Bodyguard
Jessica looked like she might be in shock. Her pupils were enlarged, and her skin was ashen. Finally, she nodded and murmured a quiet, “Yeah. I think so.”
Hearing sirens, I led her out of the closet through the bathroom to her bedroom where I rummaged through her drawers.
“What are you looking for?” she asked.
“A sweatshirt and some pants. And some underwear. For you. I thought you might be...” My eyes went to her bare shoulders and hips and long, toned legs, which were still exposed. “...cold.”
Jessica blinked, looking down again. She appeared to be emerging from her state of shock. “Right. Yes. I should put something on before the police arrive.”
Too late. A pair of officers charged into the bedroom, weapons drawn. I immediately held both my hands out to the side.
Unfortunately, a pair of silky pink panties hung from my pinky finger.
Great. Now they’re going to think I’m a pervert who broke in to raid her panty drawer. Or worse.
Jessica was naked except for the evening gown that covered her breasts and a strip of skin down the middle of her body.
I could really be in trouble here.
Speaking slowly and clearly, I said, “I’m Wilder Lowe with Veridian Security. I’m carrying a Sig Sauer P229 semi-automatic pistol—it’s in a shoulder holster under my left arm. I’m her security.”
It wasn’ttechnicallytrue—not yet—but it was about to be. There was no way I’d stand by and let her current company bungle things yet again.
Tonight’s mistake could have been deadly. I didn’t want to think what could have happened to Jessica if I hadn’t arrived when I did.
“Is that true ma’am?” one of the officers asked, giving the pink panties an evil eye.
Jessica nodded rapidly. “Yes. I called him. I asked him to come.”
Lowering their weapons, both officers approached her. The female one asked, “Are you hurt?”
“No. Just shook up. Someone was in the house.”
The older male officer checked out her bedroom door, which was hanging off its hinges. “Did the perpetrator get to you?”
I raised a hand. “Um, that was me.” Shooting Jessica a sheepish grin, I added, “I kind of messed up your doors. I’ll pay for the damage.”
“Don’t be silly. You were trying to protect me.” She turned her attention to the police officers. “Did you find anything? See anyone?”
“We found a security guard outside, unconscious. He’s alive but he appears to have been drugged. There was a coffee cup on the ground near him. We’re going to have it analyzed,” the woman said.
“There’s another guard downstairs, passed out. We called an ambulance for them. You sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” the male officer asked.
Jessica shook her head. “No. I’m fine. Can you tell if it was a burglary? Did it look like the downstairs had been ransacked or anything?”
“Not that I saw. From the looks of it, your backdoor lock was picked,” the man said. “We’ll do a thorough search of the property for any additional evidence. Do you feel well enough to stay around for a while and help us determine if anything was taken?”
“Sure. Of course.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay as well,” I said. “I want to find out what we’re dealing with—in case burglarywasn’tthe motive.”
The officers agreed, and I walked over to Jessica, pressing the panties into her hand. “Get dressed then we’ll do a room-by-room inventory. First, give Hap and Rachel a call to let them know what’s going on.”
I wanted assurances her brother and sister-in-law would be on hand to see to her emotional needs while I did the work of figuring out just what the hell this home invader was after.
I hoped itwasjust material things—which could be replaced—and not Jessica, who most certainly could not.
After clearing the upstairs and determining nothing had been taken, we all went downstairs. That’s when I saw it.
