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“Stand down,” she ordered, darting out to stand between the two men. “It was only the door.” As both weapons slowly lowered toward the floor, she raced forward, leaping into the open arms of the newcomer.
“Bart!” She punched his shoulder as he set her back on her feet. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“He was in your office, ma’am,” Deputy Morris said, stepping forward and nodding at the open door.
“Do notma’amme.” It was one southern tradition she did not find the least bit charming. “Karl Bartholomew, Deputy Morris. We’re all friends here boys. Holster those weapons.”
When they complied, she stood beside Bart to reassure the deputy. “We worked together for years. I’m fine, Deputy— Carson,” she corrected when he glared at her.
“Concealed weapons aren’t allowed in the building.”
“What’s concealed?” Bart growled, patting the holster on his hip.
She stepped between them again, immediately concerned by Bart’s uncharacteristic edginess. Nudging her friend toward the office required more force than she expected. “Get in there,” she snapped.
He muttered under his breath, but he moved at last.
“I’ve got this,” she assured Morris.
After another long look over her shoulder, he turned away.
“Could you take the elevator? Please?”
Doing a fine imitation of Bart’s muttering, Carson reversed direction.
As Eva closed the office door, she felt an unexpected amount of regret that her Saturday invitation had probably been revoked.
Chapter 2
Whentheelevatoropenedon his floor, he turned away from the sheriff’s office and headed out to the parking lot. He needed to cool off and the brisk December day worked in his favor.
Friend of Eva’s or not, that man and the tense situation had scared him. Admitting it, even to himself, wasn’t a comfortable feeling. It was one thing to be told about on-the-job fear in training, another to feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins and a life or death choice in your hands.
Generally, situations requiring weapons were rare in Haleswood. Usually he was grateful for that, but today it made him question his ability to fulfill his additional assignment as Eva’s bodyguard.
Pitching in when Ross had asked a bunch of Haleswood citizens to keep an eye on Eva during her recovery from the gunshot wound was one thing. Pretty much the whole town rallied to support her. But this additional detail putting him in Eva’s path every day was proving challenging on a different level.
No surprise to find a woman of her exotic beauty stunning. Her Italian heritage was evident in her flawless olive complexion, thick dark hair, and the fire in her brown eyes. But he’d been very surprised that the more he was around her the more he liked her feisty nature and sharp wit.
At his car, Carson popped open the trunk. He pulled his emergency pack of cigarettes from the hiding place under the lining. Lighting up and taking a long, slow drag of smoke and nicotine into his lungs, his thoughts turned back to last week’s private meeting.
“Stay close, be friendly,” he muttered, remembering Carpenter’s words. “Yeah, let me get right on that.”
Carson dragged in another lungful of nicotine and toxins. As he blew the smoke toward the clear December sky he wondered how he was going to accomplish that now. Maybe the guy upstairs was his replacement.
The thought made him feel decidedly unprofessional about the whole mess.
It would have helped if Ross had offered a clear definition of suspicious contact. Gun-toting bear fit the bill for him, but obviously not for Eva. Apparently they trusted him enough to protect her, but not enough to reveal the details of the progress they were making. They were all damn lucky he hadn’t fired on her friend Bart.
That kind of thinking was reckless, he knew. With a shaky hand, he raised the cigarette to his lips for a last inhale. As the smoke left his lungs, he rolled the filter between his fingers until the ash fell out. Pocketing the filter, he pulled out his phone. He sent a brief text to Carpenter about the bear with the gun and then headed back to the office to catch up on his real job.
At the door, his phone chimed the arrival of a new text message.
On my way. Keep her in the building.
***
Eva didn’t bother to ask how Bart got into the locked office. For all she knew, Ross had sent him a key. She was more concerned by the bizarre tension radiating off of her friend.
