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PROLOGUE
Young Loretta Page kicked her old car for the second time, taking all her frustrations out on a white fender that could give-a-shit for her rotten mood. “You stupid piece of junk. I can’t believe you’d conk out on me now… of all days.”
Seeing the smudge on her new high heel, ones she’d bought for her interview with the hiring agent at the Houston FBI headquarters, she stopped taking out her angst on a vehicle that couldn’t apologize and checked her wallet.
Yeah… not enough to pay for an Uber. Tomorrow her allowance would be deposited but until then her account didn’t have sufficient funds for a bank transfer.
Just then, the local bus passed her and pulled over at the corner of the residential block. Running in heels could cause an accident, especially for a girl who seldom wore the ankle-busters. Ripping them off, she ran in her bare feet, and banged the back of the bus to keep it from pulling away.
Thankfully, the female driver saw her and stopped, giving her time to pick up her fallen shoe and rush to the re-opened front door. Heaving, her breath coming in gasps of thanks, she fumbled around to get the fare. “No problem, honey. Can’t see a pretty girl like you missing your ride, now can I?”
“You’re still an angel.” Lori’s voice softened. The idea that maybe her day would be positive after all flooded her earlier pessimism.
Finally able to take a seat, she released a huge sigh of relief. Lifting the sleeve of the jacket to her best suit, though she hated the gray shroud, she saw that only minutes had passed. Maybe, just maybe, she could make her appointment in time. Lordy, she needed this job and had taken a risk by applying at the last minute.
Years ago, she’d aced all her classes at Quantico, used her training as a profiler in San Francisco for eight years and thought her future secure. Go figure, her father collapsed with lung cancer right after she’d decided the time had come to move closer, and she’d made the choice that taking care of Pops full-time rather than moving on with her life would take precedence. Now that he’d passed on, she thanked all that’s holy for making that decision.
Not that he’d been happy about it, the old rascal. John Page, beloved high school principle, fought her for as long as he had the strength, but that waned soon enough, and then he blessed her every day for staying with him.
Shaking off the blues that came over her each time she thought about her happy-go-lucky father, she tried to take her mind off her worries. With her black four-inch heeled shoes back in place, she checked the passengers nearest to her and played her silly game. Whenever she found herself alone in a crowded venue, she’d use her FBI experience and try to guess a background for each person nearby.
For instance, the lady across from her looked like she’d lost her last friend. Tired eyes and sunken cheeks told a story of unhappiness combined with worry. As if she felt Lori’s gaze, she let their eyes connect and shyly returned Lori’s rueful grin, a bond of female understanding passing between them before she looked away.
As Lori continued to scan the rest of the passengers, a young teen sitting crosswise caught her attention. His mop of curly red hair showed from each side of the hoodie he’d pulled over it. Pale cheeks, his hands trembling, the chubby boy clutched an older, canvas-type backpack as if it held the crown jewels.
Being an observant girl all her life, some even calling her incredible instincts kinda creepy, Lori felt that familiar weird sensation crawling over her skin, the hint of a dire situation about to happen. Though she’d tried ignoring these signals before, as she’d gotten older, they’d become stronger and harder to disregard.
Not wanting to panic the kid, she pretended to look at her phone but was instead studying him through the lens. Something about his behavior had her complete attention. Were there tears in his eyes? Not for long. He clutched his large backpack closer as if it held the secrets to his world and laid his head against the side.
When he pressed against the material, Lori saw what he’d been hugging. The tip of a rifle pushed through the zipper opening, and showed enough of itself to a person used to studying weapons. Her heart dropped right down to the dirty bus floor.
Uh oh! Now what?
Chapter One
“Walker, quit being such a pussy. Your goddaughter wants you to drive her to school, and in case you’re too dumb to understand, that’s a high honor. Christ, when I take her, she makes me drop her off a block before the gates, so no one sees her with me.”
“Hell, I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to be seen with your ugly mug next to me in the car either.” Beau Walker’s expression looked serious. It was the glee in his eyes that let on he had a sense of humor.
“Can it, asshole. It’s because I drive a Hummer. She figures the kids will make fun of her for being rich.”
“Rich, my ass. You’re just slightly wealthy. Look, I’ll bring an FBI van next time I come. Bet she’ll change her mind then.”
“Don’t count on it. For some reason my quirky chick thinks you’re cool. Can’t figure that one out. I’ve repeatedly told her your feet stink and you don’t wash your hands after you pee. She doesn’t believe me.”
“Cause it’s pure BS, and my brilliant fan knows it.” Beau Walker preened and flexed his muscles. “I’m a nice guy, one might even say striking.”
“Yeah? Within striking distance of my foot up your arse.” Luke leaned closer to his best friend. “Listen, man, I’ve known you since we roamed the hall in diapers in the same apartment building. What’s wrong with you? Why are you giving the mayor the runaround after I went to all the trouble of putting in a good word for you?” Pretending disgust, he added, “Probably didn’t need to after your latest heroics, showing off taking the bullet for the district attorney.”
Beau felt Luke’s keen eyes dig in and didn’t meet them. He’d hated all the publicity the various news sources did about the shooting. It seemed the more he’d pull away, the more they came after him.Bloody reporters with their stupid questions… How did that make you feel? Jesus, man. It felt like burning, fucking pain. Really, that’s where you want to go?Beau knew by staying quiet, Luke would answer his own question. Never failed.
“Roger wants you as his personal bodyguard until after the election. Says you’re the best. You know he’s been threatened.”
“Hell, everyone who’s anyone has been threatened. And I’m an FBI agent, not a babysitter.” Changing the subject, he said, “you already told me this over the phone, and I said no. Then you get me here for breakfast, and we take it outside for privacy. Come on, Bro. What’s really eating at you? Something’s wrong.” Beau Walker’s friend curdled like cream when Walker used that soft tone. Therefore, he did so on purpose.
“Rachel and I had another fight last night. Like a battle royal. I don’t know why she thinks she has to work when we don’t need the money. I keep telling her she’s just taking a job away from someone who has no choice because the poor slogger can’t live without those wages.”
“Bet that goes over well.” Beau shook his head at his friend’s obtrusiveness. “Buddy, look, the woman wants to feel important in her own right. She loves selling houses and does a good job. She found my perfect place and at a screaming low selling price. Almost wondered if it was haunted.”
