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“For sure.” He pridefully wished he could take her to his restored Colonial home near Wollaston Beach. But if he was worried about driving his own vehicle, he definitely didn’t think they should go to his house and let whoever was stalking her walk right in. “But first, can I look through your purse and phone to make sure they aren’t tracking you?”
She nodded and handed over her purse. She said nothing as Chandler pulled everything out and put it on the desk. There wasn’t much—a floral wallet with cash, credit cards, a Cold Stone gift card, and her driver’s license, coconut-scented lotion, a packet of tissue, her phone, keys, mint lip gloss, a bottle of Advil, a few … women’s things, a paperback romance novel with a couple entwined in each other’s arms on the cover, and a dark chocolate almond bar.
He couldn’t help but smile. “What are you reading?”
She gave him an impertinent smile. “Her Crazy Rich Fake Fiancéby Jennifer Youngblood. It’s fabulous. You should read it.”
“Maybe I will.” He grinned, but then he made himself focus, going over the items quickly but finding nothing. He turned the purse inside out and inside a small pocket, he found a round tracking device about the size of a nickel. He held it up.
Her eyes widened. “She was tracking me.”
“She? I thought it was Admiral Seamons.” But something was niggling at his brain. He was distanced from the protection of the Delta Family secret because he didn’t live in the valley, but he’d gone home for Thor and Shelly’s wedding last month and gotten a thorough update from Papa. Nelson Palmer, the man who’d sent three mercenaries to steal the secret and then tried to force Greer’s girlfriend, Emery, to go after it, had said something about whoever sent him being a “her.”
Kylee glanced around as if the ears had walls. Actually, this device could be a listening device.
“Let’s chat soon,” he said, standing and hurrying to put everything back in the purse except her phone, which he put in a desk drawer. Her brow squiggled at that, but she had to know how easily she could be followed through her phone. He pocketed the tracker.
“You’re keeping it?” she whispered.
“For a minute.” He tried to smile reassuringly as he took her hand and led her from the office.
She got a few hoots and offers from nearby players. Chandler was ready to show them exactly how in-depth his training and fighting abilities were. He might not be as advanced in military skills as most of his family, but he could easily dismantle any of these guys. He tightened his grip on her hand, waved the idiots off in what he hoped looked like an easy-going manner, and hurried her toward the players’ parking lot.
He glanced around and asked her, “Do you see him?”
He saw what looked to be fans waiting for players to come out, but nobody that raised any flags.
She looked around nervously. “No.”
“Okay. Let’s go.” He walked behind some vehicles and then saw what he was hoping for. A food service truck loading up the unused fresh food from their concessions stand. He ushered Kylee in that direction and, luckily, the crew headed back inside for another load without locking the truck. Chandler opened the back door and slid the tracker under a tray of bread.
“Smart.” Kylee smiled brilliantly at him.
He grinned back, hoping he could get her somewhere safe and then they could get reacquainted like he’d told her earlier. Shutting the door, he took her hand again and led her to Ty’s red Porsche 718.
“Not the most subtle car,” she said.
He grimaced as he got her door and darted a gaze around. She was right. He should’ve traded Carson for his white Maxima, but he wasn’t sure he trusted Carson with his truck. They’d drive the Porsche to a rental car company and get something different. Ty would kill him later for leaving his baby, but the rental company wouldn’t damage it.
“We’ll trade it out soon,” he promised, ushering her into the seat.
Hurrying into the driver’s seat again, he glanced around but only saw a few fans who called and waved when he looked their direction. He waved back but hurried into the car, dropped the keys in the console, and slid on some of Ty’s sunglasses.
He drove out of the parking lot, not even sure which direction to go. Maybe it didn’t matter until he had her story, passed the info on to Papa, and they made a plan to keep her safe, but he found himself turning north toward Boston and, more specifically, the airport. They’d have the largest rental car companies.
“Chandler.” Kylee’s hand on his arm distracted him. “That’s him.” She pointed at a tall, bald man staring at them from over the heads of a young family on the street corner. The guy had eerie pale blue eyes.
Chandler wanted to pull over and take care of the guy right now, but the man slid a 9mm out.
“Zut allors!” Kylee screamed.
Chandler thought that was French, but he had no idea.
The guy started taking shots at the Porsche from over the family’s heads.
People screamed and hit the ground. Bullets dinged off the car.
Ty was going to fillet him.
