Page 41 of The Bodyguard
She shook her head again.
“I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”
She looked at me then, and I could see it, the bone-deep fear in her eyes. “You won’t believe me.”
“Okay, let’s start with the easy stuff. Ronnie and Bea?”
“Ronnie’s back in Dallas and I think Bea went back to Austin.”
“Oscar and Trudy?”
She sniffed. “They’re on an extended cruise.”
“Who’s taking care of the horses?”
“Walt’s son comes over every day.”
I nodded. “So, with Ronnie back in Dallas you’re out here by yourself most of the time.”
She nodded.
Okay. That made some sense. Big sprawling house, all alone. Someone pounding on the door. “Did I scare you? Pounding on the door that way.”
She nodded tightly.
“Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to be loud enough so that you would hear me.”
She swallowed and rubbed her nose against the sleeve of her shirt. “It’s not that. I…I don’t want to talk about it.”
I stood then and reached my hand out to her. “Sorry again, but I don’t hear you scream like that, find you curled up on the floor with a gun in your hand, and let you get away with not talking about it.”
“Why are you even here?” she asked even as she took my hand and let me pull her to her feet. “You hate me, remember?”
And that was about the farthest thing from the truth I had ever heard.
“I was here to apologize, but now I’m here on official business.” I directed her over to one of the long leather sectionals in what I believed was the game room. A more manly space, as opposed to all the delicate furniture in the living room. I sat down and pulled her down next to me.
She didn’t resist, but she still wasn’t looking at me.
“Talk, Brin. Why were you freaking out just then? Why are you walking around Dusty Creek with a gun?”
“Why didn’t you buzz at the gate?” she fired back. “Then I would have known you were coming.”
“I didn’t want to give you the chance to blow me off. I wanted to talk to you. Apologize. Maybe try to explain some stuff.”
“You don’t have to,” she mumbled. “I know why you were mad. I shouldn’t have been late just to fix my hair. That was a stupid reason and it’s disrespectful to be late.”
“But your curlswereperfect,” I teased. She let out a huff of laughter.
I bumped my shoulder against her and then, because I liked it, liked the feeling of her pressed against me, I stayed there. She didn’t move away so I assume she liked it, too.
“Okay, now talk to me, to Sheriff Pine. What has you so spooked?”
She stood then, and I thought it was going to be another trick to avoid answering me. Instead she brought back her cell phone. She put her thumb on it to open it and then she showed me what was on the screen.
It was a picture of her. From today. In the red leather jacket. Making her way across the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly.
“Someone sent you a picture of you? A fan?”
