“I brought café au lait and beignets from Café Du Monde.” He offered the words in a rush. “That’s why I came. Thought we could discuss the case while you ate.”
Suzanna gave him a tight smile. “That was very thoughtful of you. I have to say your timing was impeccable. Thirty seconds later and…” Her voice trailed off.
“Jean-Luc, you and your brothers work for Carpenter Security, right?”
“Yes. I’ve been with him from the beginning. My brothers joined after they got out of the military.”
“Good. I’d like to hire you.”
“Hire him? Why?” Suzanna’s gaze darted between the two men.
“After this kidnapping attempt, you need bodyguards—”
“No!”
Gage lightly rested his hands on her shoulders, careful to avoid the bandaged area where the bullet had grazed her arm. “Last night you hired me to help prove you didn’t kill your husband. That means you need to trust me to make decisions you might not like, but they’ll keep you safe. You had a strange man force his way into your hotel room, bent on kidnapping or extortion. Physically, you are not safe until whoever did murder your husband has been arrested. I can’t do my job and still be with you twenty-four/seven. That means we need to hire people who can protect you when I’m not around. While I don’t know Jean-Luc and his brothers personally, I know his family—theTexas branch—and I’ve met his father. I can also vouch for Carpenter Security Services. They are the best in the business. You may not agree with or like having somebody with you all the time, but it’s that or I’m taking a hike. What’ll it be?”
Gage could read the indecision on her face, her need to fight him. But this was one battle he would win, because it meant keeping her alive.
“He’s right, Mrs. Dawkins.” They both glanced toward the other man. “Whether you like it or not, you’re life and everything in it is under the microscope of the public. Everybody and their brother will be trying to get to you, hounding you for a variety of reasons. Anything from interviews to requests for donations to their charities, especially once your husband’s will has been probated. A bodyguard is the best solution. And, as Gage said, we’re the best. That’s not bragging, I can show you reports, letters of recommendation from some of our prior clients if you’d like. Heck, I can get you a referral from the Vice President if you’d like one. If you decide you’d prefer somebody else, that’s fine, but I have to strongly encourage you to hire someone, because as a wealthy single woman, you are at high risk.”
Suzanna’s shoulders slumped and she let out osteoarthritis sigh. “I agree to temporarily accepting a bodyguard.” She looked up at Gage. “I feel like I’m still asleep and all of this is a nightmare and I can’t wake up. Steven, being accused of killing him, somebody trying to kidnap me. I swear, I’m ready to get off this rollercoaster now.”
“We’ll figure everything out. I’ve got feelers out with several people. Should hear something back soon. In the meantime, let’s get you something to eat, and then we’ll go and talk to Carpenter Security. After that, we’ll go see the police and give your formal statement. Okay?”
She nodded.
“If you’ve got things handled here, I’m going to head back to the office, and get things started from that end.” Jean-Luc straightened from where he’d been leaning against the wall. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Dawkins, everything’s going to be fine, trust me.”
With a smile, he left through the ruined door. Looking at it, Gage frowned, and walked over to the phone on the nightstand, calling down to the front desk. He made arrangements to have them send security up to monitor Suzanna’s room while the door was repaired.
“Come on, I know a place that serves great creole food, if you’re in the mood from something authentic.”
“Actually, I’m starving. I was so nervous about meeting you yesterday, I forgot to eat. With everything this morning, well…”
“Let’s go.”
CHAPTER SIX
The visit tothe police station had been chaotic, but at least it was over. Suzanna had grown sick of seeing the inside of police stations over the last few months, ever since her husband’s death. They all tended to blend into the same nightmare of stale coffee, the stench of tobacco, and the fragrant ripeness of unwashed body odor. She’d answered Officer Turner’s questions about her assailant, without embellishing anything. The reality was explicit enough for a movie of the week, with her cast in the role of damsel in distress. She hated that. All her life she’d done everything to keep from falling into the stereotype of the poor helpless female.
Gage had added a few new details of what he’d observed when he’d gotten to her room. Honestly, when he’d first arrived and kicked down the door, she’d been in shock over being hit by the masked man, so those few crucial minutes were kind of a blur.
How had this become her life? Before Steven’s death, the closest she’d come to law enforcement was donating money to local charities and funding Texas benevolent organizations to help the spouses and children of officers killed in the line of duty. Now she was in the middle of not one but two police investigations, and she had the feeling both investigating officers didn’t quite believe her account of the facts.
“We’re done here.” Gage held open the door of the interrogation room, and ushered her out. Holding her head high, she walked past the bullpen, feeling the eyes of most of thepeople gathered there. Oh, how she hated being the center of attention, knowing she was being judged, and found lacking.
“I hate this,” she whispered, walking faster toward the front doors. She couldn’t breathe. Needed to get outside, away from so many people. It felt like the police station walls were closing in, suffocating her, and black spots appeared on the edges of her vision.
Not now. Don’t let me fall apart in front of all these people. Not in front of Gage. It’s just a few more feel. I can do this. Put one step in front of the other. I can see the doors. They aren’t going to try and stop me. They aren’t going to arrest me. Detective Jansen isn’t here. Only Gage. He believes me. He won’t let them lock me up, put me in a cage. Only a few more feet, one step. Then another. Breath, Suzanna, just breathe. You’re almost out.
Gage threw open the glass front door, and she stepped through. The weight pressing down on her lifted with each step, and she drew in a deep breath, the first one she’d taken since walking inside the NOPD. Her reaction to going to the police department was irrational, she knew it, but try as she might, she couldn’t fight the overwhelming claustrophobic feeling it engendered.
“Take a deep breath. You’re okay now. You did great.”
She shook her head, giving a self-deprecating laugh. “I barely held it together. I don’t know why I freeze up the minute I step inside a police station.”
“It’s not unusual. Most people never see the inside of an actual police station, but I’m guessing you’ve seen more than your fair share of them in the past few months.”
