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“And if she wants an apology from Wade, why hurt him?”

  “Obviously she was making a point,” Olivia said.

  “Yeah. That she could get to him.”

  “Who knows what was going through her mind? Warped brains don’t make sense to those of us who have all our marbles—or at least the majority of them.” She thought and paced a few more steps. “Anyway, she said he needed to apologize, so instead of killing him for whatever perceived wrong he’s done, she gives him a second chance.”

  “Maybe.”

  Olivia glanced at the door to Wade’s room. “I’m going to ask him a few questions. Stay tuned and keep me updated on Maddy’s condition, please.”

  “Will do.”

  “Thanks.” Olivia hung up and let the anger burn. Being a bodyguard meant accepting that the job came with risks. They watched over their clients while knowing the unthinkable could happen, but hoped it wouldn’t. Maddy understood that. They all did. Still . . . it didn’t lessen the punch of the blow one bit.

  She saw the doctor Bruce had pointed out to her as Wade’s—and a lifelong friend of the family. He’d been sleeping soundly when Bruce had called him about Wade, but hadn’t hesitated to roll out of bed and immediately come to the hospital to take care of his friend’s son. He looked to be in his midfifties and was dressed in black slacks and a blue short-sleeved polo shirt. She approached him and he looked up from the chart he was studying. “Dr. Worthington?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Olivia Edwards, Wade Savage’s bodyguard.”

  He shook her hand. “Bruce told me about you.”

  “I’m not looking for you to violate any HIPAA regs, but could you just tell me the drug he was injected with?”

  “You can tell her,” Bruce said. Wade’s father stood at the door to Wade’s room, looking as though he’d planned on leaving for a brief moment.

  Dr. Worthington nodded. “Did you need something, Bruce?”

  “Just another cup of coffee.”

  “I’ll bring it to you,” Olivia said.

  Bruce gave her a nod of thanks, then stepped back inside and shut the door again.

  “Propofol,” the doctor said.

  Olivia nodded. “Thanks.” She headed for the coffeepot, her mind spinning. She texted Angela Malone, the agency’s administrative assistant.

  Pull up info on a drug propofol and send to me ASAP, pls.

  Angela probably wasn’t at the office yet, but she’d get the text soon enough. Olivia figured she could just ask the doctor, but didn’t want to bother him. She had her resources and would use them. Coffee cup in hand, she turned to head back toward Wade’s room.

  “. . . looking for Wade Savage’s room?”

  Olivia’s head turned toward the man asking about her client. A tall man in his midfifties stood at the nurse’s station. She moved forward before the nurse could speak. “May I help you?”

  The man turned. His hazel eyes smiled before his lips. “Only if you know where I can find Wade Savage.”

  “Do you mind if I ask who you are?” He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him. Maddy would have known him instantly.

  He held out a hand, his gaze wary, but curious too. “I’m Cameron Short. I work with Breaking Free.”

  “The charity Wade set up.” She’d read Maddy’s notes on it. And on Cameron Short.

  “Yes, yes. He’s the executive director. I’m on the board. He and I pretty much run things.” He paused. “And you are?”

  “Olivia Edwards.” This time she hesitated. “I’m working for Mr. Savage on some security issues.”

  “Security?” He frowned, then sighed, his expression worried. “Look, Bruce sent me a text telling me Wade wouldn’t be able to meet this morning. He just said something about him being attacked in the station parking lot and being in the hospital. Of course, I had to come see for myself that he’s all right.”

  “I’m getting ready to step inside and see that for myself. Why don’t you wait here and I’ll let Bruce know you’d like to speak with him.”

  “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

  “Of course.”

  Olivia knocked on the door to Wade’s room. “Come in.” She recognized Bruce’s voice. She stepped into the room and moved so she could see Wade sitting up in the bed. “You’re looking better.”

  Confusion knit his brows together. “Thanks.” Then his forehead smoothed. “You were here earlier.”

  She glanced at his father. Bruce looked resigned. She handed him his coffee and lifted a brow. He nodded.

  “What is it? You two know each other?” Wade had caught the silent exchange.

  “I’m Olivia Edwards. I’m part owner of the Elite Guardians Bodyguard Agency.” She held out a hand and he shook it. She met his gaze, and his eyes, his very green eyes, didn’t look away or blink. He simply stared. As did she. She waited, wondering what he was thinking. He finally let go of her hand and her fingers slid across his palm. His lips quirked in a small smile. Olivia cleared her throat and took a step back.

  His frown returned as her words registered. “Bodyguard agency?”

  “I hired them,” Bruce said from his position in the chair. His jaw jutted and his eyes narrowed. “You’ve been getting weird gifts in the mail, hang-up phone calls, presents left on the front porch.” He waved a hand. “You have a stalker. When you rejected my offer to hire a bodyguard, I simply did it anyway.”

  Wade’s nostrils flared. “Of course you did.”

  “Son—”

  Wade held up a hand. “I can’t believe—”

  “Maddy’s throat was slit,” Olivia said, raising her voice only slightly. Might as well nip the argument in the bud.

  The room fell silent. Wade looked at her. “What did you say?”

  “One of my employees, Madelyn McKay, was your bodyguard. She was following you, keeping you in her sight at all times, and was there in case someone attacked you. Instead, she’s the one who was attacked and is now here at the hospital. Whoever drugged you got Maddy first. The attacker slit her throat.”

  “Slit her—oh my . . . I can’t believe this.” Bruce’s voice was suddenly hoarse, shock paling his tan face.

  “The attacker also left a note that said, ‘Apologize. He’s mine.’”

  “You think the attacker’s female?”

  “Probably.”

  Wade’s face paled even further, although Olivia wouldn’t have thought it possible. “And you think she was referring to me?”

  “We do.”

  “Why?”

  She lifted a brow. “I think that’s rather obvious, but before we get into it—” she turned to Bruce—“there’s a man outside waiting to speak with you. Cameron Short?”

  “Cameron?” Wade asked. “What’s he doing here?”

  “You had a meeting with him this morning,” Bruce said. “I texted him and told him you’d be unable to attend. I gave him the really short version of what happened and I guess he decided to see for himself.” He waved a hand toward the door. “He can wait a few minutes. Go on, please,” he told Olivia.

  She nodded. “Before last night, this person, and we’re assuming it’s the same person for now, was sending you harmless gifts. Then for some reason, she felt compelled to come to the radio station, attempt to kill your bodyguard, drug you, and leave a note staking her claim. What changed?”

  Wade shook his head as though to clear it and his father looked ill. “Wait a minute,” Wade said. “How is Madelyn?”

  “She goes by Maddy. And I don’t know. I’m still waiting to hear.” Dear God, please let her pull through. The prayer slipped from her before she could stop it. She pulled her phone from her pocket one more time and sent a text to Katie.

  Ask them to check Maddy for the drug propofol.

  “Okay, let me make sure I’ve got this right.” His gaze swung to his father. “You hired a bodyguard agency.”

  “Yes.”

  “When?”

  “Two weeks ago. Right after
you found the tickets for the concert in your mailbox.” Bruce ran a hand over his face and Olivia thought she saw a few new stress lines that hadn’t been there when he’d walked into her office two weeks ago.

  “And this woman, Maddy,” Wade said. “She was protecting me and got hurt because of it.” He seemed to feel the need to say the words aloud in order to process the facts.

  “Yes.” Olivia nodded. “And that’s why after last night’s incident, we need your help. From this moment on, we’re going to need your thoughts and input. The gifts she’s sent you up to now haven’t been threatening in any way. However, it’s never a good thing to assume that just because the gifts are harmless, the sender doesn’t have some kind of ulterior motive, some expectations.” She tapped her lips. “And when you don’t meet those expectations, bad things will start happening.”

  “Like earlier.”

  She nodded. “Like earlier.”

  He sighed, then gave a low, humorless chuckle. “The thing is, I know this stuff. You’re not telling me anything new. I’m a clinical psychiatrist. I’ve worked with people who’ve had stalkers and I’ve worked with stalkers themselves. I’ve just never experienced it on quite this level of up close and personal.” He shook his head. “This is so twisted.”

  “Agreed, but in her mind, she’s showing you how much she cares. Your father was right to be concerned.”

  “So you hired someone behind my back?” Olivia heard the undercurrent of steely anger.

  “Your mother had a stalker.”

  Those five words from his father silenced him. Olivia looked up to see Bruce staring at the floor. His pale face and still stature captured her attention.

  “What?”

  Bruce looked up at his son’s quiet question and gave a small shrug. “She had a stalker. Right before she was killed.”

  “Who?”

  “The cops were never able to prove it, but I suspect it was the woman who sent her letters for over a year, calling your mother all kinds of horrible names, accusing her of stealing her husband’s love and warning her to back off and disappear. Your mother was concerned, of course, but was convinced it would all blow over. I was scared to death.”

  “With good reason, it sounds like,” Olivia murmured.

  “Yes. And so when I saw the gifts and Wade finally told me about the calls he’s been getting at the station, I didn’t want to waste any time making sure someone was watching his back.”

  “When was your wife killed?”

  “May 2, 1985.”

  Her gaze flew to Wade. “You couldn’t have been more than a toddler.”

  “I was two.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Regardless,” Bruce said, “I could see history repeating itself, and as long as there’s breath in me to do something to prevent it, I’ll do it.”

  Wade studied his father, and Olivia could see the muscle jumping in Wade’s jaw. Understanding mixed with anger roiled in his eyes.

  “For some reason she’s been content to admire from a distance, send harmless gifts, be anonymous,” Olivia said.

  “But all that changed this morning,” Wade murmured.

  “Exactly. But what triggered that?”

  Wade sank back onto the bed. “I did.”

  “How?”

  His gaze bounced between her and his father. “On the show. I mentioned the gifts. I said I appreciated them, but they really needed to stop, that I wasn’t interested in an anonymous admirer. I said I had thrown away all of the gifts and would do so with any future gifts, so she might as well stop.”

  Olivia closed her eyes and let out a pained groan. “Oh no.”

  “Son . . . ,” his father breathed.

  Wade set his jaw. “Look, like I said, I’ve worked with these people. Sometimes when they’re confronted and told to back off, they do. Sometimes they don’t and they escalate.” He scratched his chin. “This person involved Amy. She sent her a jersey. The cops won’t do anything because there’s been no overt threat. They agreed I needed to be cautious and take steps to protect myself and Amy, but their hands were tied.” He held his hands up, then dropped them, resignation and defeat flashing for a brief moment on his face. “I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing, so I decided to take a gamble.”

  “Not only did you lose that gamble,” Olivia said, “I think you’ve stuck a stick in a hornet’s nest.”

  [7]

  Just before Wade was released, Cameron entered the room for a short visit. He shook Wade’s hand and clasped his shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re all right. When you’re feeling better, call me and we’ll get together to discuss business.”

  “Will do.”

  Cameron left, and while Wade appreciated his concern, he was glad the man hadn’t dragged out the visit. He still felt physically weak and exhausted. He just wanted to go home and go to bed.

  One piece of good news that had brightened Olivia’s tense features had come as Wade was signing his release papers. Maddy had come through surgery and was still clinging to life. Barely.

  He’d met Katie Singleton, who’d arrived with Haley Callaghan, and learned they were two more partners in the agency. Katie had scouted the area and deemed it safe to walk the four steps from the hospital exit to the passenger seat of Olivia’s vehicle. Wade left the hospital with Olivia and his father at his side. Wade’s father had his own car and would meet them at the house. Wade slid into the passenger seat of Olivia’s SUV and buckled his seat belt. “How many employees are with Elite Guardians?”

  She backed out of the parking spot. “In the beginning there were three of us. Katie, Haley, and I all met at the bodyguard school in Athens, Greece. We graduated and formed our own company. We’ve all been involved in one form of law enforcement at some point in our lives, so we put together a proposal and presented it to the mayor. She liked it.”

  “So you work for the mayor?” he asked as she pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

  “Yes and no. We do contract work for her and the local police department when they have a need.” She tapped her fingers on the wheel as she drove. “For example, if there’s a big celebrity or politician in town or something and they need additional security, they call on us. One reason is that states vary in their laws for concealed weapons. Some bodyguards may not be able to carry their weapons in South Carolina. We can. So whoever is in need of extra security contacts local law enforcement, and local LEO gives them our agency recommendation. In addition, if there have been threats or angry letters, we’re brought in to do a threat assessment, review the security plan, and make recommendations to the chief of police. Usually, they just hire us for the gig if they think they need specialized protection.” She shrugged. “That’s about it in a nutshell.”

  “But isn’t that what the local force is for?”

  “Of course. Like I said, we just work with them when they need some extra manpower or the person in charge of the security detail feels like his client would be better off with a personal protection specialist.”

  “And when you’re not working with them, you’re bodyguarding?”

  “No. The bodyguard service comes first. When we get a call from a private client, we would take that job over one from the mayor if we have to make that choice. Most of the time we can handle both.”

  “I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

  She smiled. “That’s because it’s an experiment.” She shrugged. “Normally, the clients pay for the protection. But in this case, as we were trying to build our business, we had the idea that we presented to the mayor. When she learned that the funding came from a private grant and that there wasn’t any strain on the taxpayers’ pocket, she was eager to see how we could all work together. And law enforcement welcomed the help. The mayor had nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

  “Sounds ideal.”

  “It really is. The good thing is, we’ve all been in law enforcement and we know what we’re doing. And because we’re employed on a c
ontract basis via the mayor, we carry law enforcement powers. We can make an arrest, investigate a crime, do lots of the things a police officer can do.”

  “So the agency was started with you, Katie, and Haley.”

  “Yes.” She made a left, then a quick right. “As the business grew, we added Maddy and may need to add another in the next month or so. I do have some contract people I work with on occasion should I need the manpower. And with Maddy out of commission for a bit . . .”

  “Yeah.”

  She drove with confidence, her movements sure and steady even while she kept an eye on the rear and side mirrors. Wade let himself study the woman who’d probably saved his life last night. Straight blonde hair with some darker highlights and blue eyes that reminded him of the Caribbean waters on a clear summer day. She was physically beautiful, clearly competent, and intrigued him like no other woman had in a long time. Not since—

  “You’re staring,” she said.

  “You’re interesting.” He pushed that last thought aside. He didn’t want to think about Justine.

  She blinked. And laughed.

  “What’s so funny about that?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “That’s not usually what I hear from a man.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I’m not. It’s refreshing.”

  He studied her to see if she was flirting. She wasn’t. Again, his interest in her grew to another level. Again, he frantically pushed it away. “To have someone look beneath the first layer?”

  A flush darkened her cheeks and she didn’t look at him. “Something like that.”

  “So what’s your story?”

  She looked at him this time. “My story?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s put it this way. It’s short and it’s boring.”

  “Boring?” He let out a chuckle. “Right. I don’t believe that for a minute, but I’ll let you off the hook if you promise to tell me at some point.”

  She made a sound in her throat that could have been an agreement—or not. She pulled to a stop at the light and her phone buzzed. She glanced down. “That’s Angela Malone, our agency’s administrative assistant. She keeps us all in line and organized. She sent me some information on the drug you were injected with.”