Saving Sophie: Book Seven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series (32 page)

“I guess so.”

“Are you ready to go back in?”

She shook her head. “I miss this view. I don’t think there’s better for miles around. It breaks my heart to think you won’t be here to enjoy it.”

He couldn’t stand the idea of staying here without her. He grunted, not willing to say anything else about the matter.

“Do you mind if we sit here for a while?”

The fire cast an orange glow against her soft skin as he held the woman he loved while the ocean waves crashed in the distance. “We can stay for as long as you like.”

She settled her hand on top of his, and he laced their fingers, holding his breath, afraid he’d gone too far, but she didn’t protest or pull away. He stared out into the night until the fire burnt down to embers, knowing Sophie had fallen asleep long ago. His cell phone rang, bursting his bubble of contentment. He answered before the first ring finished, not wanting to wake her. “Hello,” he said quietly.

“Hey, Stone, it’s Tucker.”

“Hey, man, what’s up?”

“Ethan contacted me earlier today about Sophie’s brakes. I’m sorry I’m just getting back to you.”

“It’s fine.”

“My buddy Detective Owens and I went down and took a look at Sophie’s car before Wren and I headed over to Ethan and Sarah’s.”

“And?”

“Well, the car’s a damn mess for starters. It took us a little while to make heads or tails out of what was what, but when we finally got in there we noticed a small tear in the line—must’ve created a slow leak.”

His stomach roiled as he thought of how lucky Sophie was to be alive.

“Looks like wear and tear.”

“Bullshit,” he said, wincing, lowering his voice again. “I changed those lines not even a month ago. They’re brand new. Eric Winthrop is behind Sophie’s accident. Where the hell is he?”

“It’s definitely not out of the question.”

“Of course it’s not. He’s been messing with her for weeks—years. She filed for a restraining order, and then all hell breaks loose.”

“I told Owens about the restraining order. He’ looking into the situation closely, but he and Ethan have both confirmed Winthrop’s in Bangor.”

“You and I both know that doesn’t mean jack shit.”

“We
all
do. Owens was going to have Bangor PD bring Winthrop in for questioning.”

“
Good
.”

“I’ll have Owens get back to you with anything they find out.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Talk to you later.”

“Bye.” Sighing he put away his phone. Eric was in Maine, but Sophie’s brakes had been tampered with. If Eric didn’t screw with the lines himself, he’d paid someone to. He glanced around in the dark surrounding them, not liking where this was going. He eased his way out from behind Sophie and picked her up, careful not to jar her ribs.

She opened her sleepy eyes. “Stone?”

“Shh. It’s time for bed.” He kissed her forehead.

“Okay.” She closed her eyes again, snuggling her head on his shoulder.

He walked inside. “Come on, Murph.”

Murphy followed.

He locked the door, scrutinizing the dark once again. Maybe pulling his gun from the lockbox wasn’t such a bad idea.

~~~~

Eric opened his front door with a frown, looking at Clyde and Joe Burlington standing illuminated in the porch light. “Hello.”

“Hi, Eric.” Clyde shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, I hate to say it, but we’re here on official business. We’re going to need you to come down to the station with us.”

“What the hell for?” But he already knew, and now Dylan Matthers was going to have to die.

“We have some questions we need to ask you.”

He opened the door wider, ready to appeal to Clyde’s deep sense of loyalty. “Come on in and ask them here. I’ll pour you a drink or make you some coffee.”

Clyde shook his head. “I’m afraid we can’t. You’ll need to come with us.”

“What’s this about?”

“The Los Angeles Police Department wanted us to bring you in and ask you a few questions about Sophie.”

His heart kicked up to a wild beat. “Sophie?”

“She was in a pretty bad accident yesterday.”

“Is she all right?”

“They say she is, but there were some problems with her car.”

He struggled to bury the fear. Dylan Matthers was one thing, Sophie’s accident and the LAPD another. How the hell had they tied the accident back to him? “I don’t understand.” He didn’t bother to disguise the tremor in his voice. “Sophie has an accident and somehow I’m responsible?”

“It doesn’t make much sense to me either.” Clyde gave Eric’s shoulder a solid pat of support. “Let’s go get these questions out of the way, so we can get this off your plate.”

“I need to call my attorney. First she accuses me of hitting her, and now murder? When is this going to stop?”

“We had no idea Sophie had it in her. We’ll call Paul for you down at the station. Come on now.”

“Okay.” He stepped outside with Clyde and Joe, turning to lock the door, his hands shaking with waves of terror and fury as he twisted and pulled the key free. His “friend” had better call soon with good news. Sophie was ruining his life.

Sophie opened her eyes to the bright sunshine,
staring out the window at the palm trees blowing in the ever-present ocean winds. She’d slept like a rock after spending the majority of the evening in the fresh air. Smiling, she remembered Stone’s surprise Fourth of July picnic. He’d been so sweet to make their night on the cliffs special. She’d never enjoyed fireworks more with her head resting against his firm chest while they held hands in the dark.

She rolled to her back, letting out a small gasp of pain. She’d somehow ended up slightly on her side. Turning her head, she flinched, not expecting to see Stone lying next to her. She vaguely remembered him carrying her in from the lounge chair, laying her in the bed, and kissing her forehead as he covered her up. Then she’d fallen back into a deep sleep.

Her gaze traveled over his muscled shoulders and arms, his toned waist and black boxers uncovered. They’d woken together like this so many times, except he usually tucked her close in his arms and kissed her shoulder when he said good morning.

He stirred, opening his eyes, looking into hers. “Hey,” he said, his voice rough with sleep and muffled by the pillow.

“Hi.”

He repositioned his head. “How are your ribs?”

“They’re okay.” She stretched some, taking her required deep breaths, finding the pain bearable. “I feel like my mobility might be a bit better.”

“That’s good considering you fell asleep before we could get another pill in you.” Yawning, he scooted closer, the warm skin of his stomach and chest pressing against her side as he rested his cheek on his hand, leaning on his elbow. “Do you want breakfast?” He slid his fingers along her ribcage, sending a rush of heat to her center with his teasing movements.

She needed to tell him to stop; she couldn’t let him keep touching her like this, but she did nothing to move away, too weak with want for the man staring into her eyes. “Do you have any eggs?”

“If I do, they’re the same eggs that’ve been here since you left.”

She huffed out a laugh. “What have you been
eating
?”

“Stuff on the road mostly. I’ve been out of town more than I’ve been around, but when I
am
home Abby makes Jerrod bring me Tupperware containers with dinner in them.”

She grinned, shaking her head. “She spoils you.”

“You used to.”

She shook her head again, her smile dimming. She didn’t want to talk about “used to.” “Making us a meal wasn’t exactly five-star treatment.”

His fingers moved to trace circles around her belly button. “You’re a damn good cook, Soph.”

She swallowed, wanting to shove his hand lower so he could touch her the way he did so expertly and put her out of her misery. “Thank you,” she said, trying her best to focus on conversation instead of what Stone could be doing to her right here in this bed. “You should really take a couple of cooking classes. You have that beautiful new kitchen; it’s a shame you’re not using it.”

“I didn’t remodel the kitchen for me, Soph.”

“This is your house isn’t it?” She looked away, deliberately misunderstanding his meaning.

He took her chin between his fingers, forcing her gaze back to his. “It was ours for a little while.”

But it wasn’t any more. She pulled his hand away, attempting to sit up. “I should probably get Murphy his breakfast.”

He rested his hand against her shoulder, holding her down. “I miss you, Soph. This place isn’t the same without you and Murphy.”

She shrugged away from his touch, no longer focused on her overactive libido. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“How about you miss me too.”

“I—I do you miss you.”

“So then why did you leave?”

She closed her eyes, sighing. “Because you have a right to your life.”

“There was nothing
wrong
with my life. I liked my life just the way it was.”

“Stone—” She rested her hand on his arm as her gaze wandered to the gun on the side table. “What are you doing with that?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Keeping it handy.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “Why?”

He sat up. “I’ve been wanting to ask you a couple of questions.”

“Okay.” She used his arm to pull herself up as quickly as her injuries would allow.

“Abby told me you’ve been working with Jeremiah lately.”

“Yes,” she hesitated. This was never a good subject for them.

“You’ve filed suit against Eric and have a restraining order against him and the PI.”

“Yes,” she said again. “A temporary order.”

“Good for you, Soph.”

“Thanks.”

“Has Eric given you any more trouble since the stuff he pulled a couple weeks ago?”

“No. He hasn’t given me any more problems since David was arrested. He seems to have taken the hint—at least for now.”

He huffed out a deep breath. “Maybe not.”

Her brows furrowed again. “What do you mean?”

“Soph,” he took her hand, pressing a kiss to her fingers in the way that always sent tingles rushing to her stomach. “Your accident… I don’t think it was an accident.”

She swallowed. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“Your brake line had a small tear.”

“Okay.”

“That would allow the fluid to leak out slowly over time—probably a couple of days.”

“Spell it out for me, Stone. I’m not a mechanic.” Although she had an idea of what he was getting at, she didn’t want to believe it.

“If you don’t have brake fluid you can’t stop. I think someone punctured your line. I replaced them myself before I gave you the car. They were solid.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Maybe—maybe they were just defective.”

“Possibly, but it’s interesting how they suddenly became defective after you filed for a restraining order.”

She shook her head and rested her face in her hands as Eric’s threats to kill her echoed through her head. “Why did I do this? Why did I start all of this?”

He eased her hands away. “Because you’ll never be free of him until you finish it.”

“Finish
it
, Stone, or is he going to finish
me
?” She pulled the covers back and got out of bed, staring out the window at the ebb and flow of ocean waves. “He told me this would happened. I never should’ve doubted he meant if for one second.”

Stone walked around to where she stood, settling his hands on her shoulders. “We’re going to figure this out. Tucker and his detective friend are working on it right now.”

“Do you think that matters?” She turned to face him. “Eric thinks he’s above the law. His money allows him to get away with far more than he should.” She pulled away from him. “Why didn’t I leave? I should have left. I should’ve gotten on the bus to Boise all those weeks ago.”

“How would that be the solution, Soph?”

She crossed her arms at her chest. “He can’t hurt me if he can’t find me.”

“You don’t know that he wouldn’t have.”

“I was doing okay.” She moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “I was making it.”

“If hiding and sleeping in some disgusting motel in the ghetto are making it, sure.”

“I was safer there than I am now. At least then I didn’t have broken bones and bruises all over the place.”

He sat next to her. “But look what you
do
have—friends, a job you love, your own shop. Murphy.”

“I know.” She sniffled back her tears. “I wouldn’t trade any of it for anything. I just want to keep it.” She brushed her wet cheek. “What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to talk to Detective Owens. Bangor PD was going to look for Eric last night and bring him in for questioning.”

“
Clyde
again?” She laughed incredulously. “Give me a break.”

“I know. Let’s hear what Owens has to say, and we’ll go from there.” He took her face in his hands. “I’m right here, Soph. I told you I would be. You don’t have to handle this on your own.”

“Okay.” She nodded, comforted by his reassurances until another thought occurred to her. “Wait, if Eric’s in Maine, how did he mess with my brakes?”

“Let’s talk to Owens.”

~~~~

Stone walked closer to the bathroom door, making certain Sophie was still in the shower while he spoke with the detective.

“Unfortunately we’re stuck,” Owens said.

“That’s bullshit,” Stone spat, shoving his hand through his hair. “What happened with the interview?”

“Not much, but that shouldn’t surprise you. Winthrop’s got himself lawyered up. His attorney didn’t let him say anything more than he had no idea what we were talking about.”

“Fuck, man. I
know
he did this. I
know
it.” He started back down the hall, trying to walk off the disgust. The bastard was going to get away with it.

“At this point it’s impossible to prove, but I’m inclined to agree with you.”

That didn’t do them a damn bit of good. “So where does that leave us?”

“Not where I’d like. Bangor PD has agreed to keep Eric under surveillance, although I had to come down on Officer Clyde whoever-the-hell-he-is pretty hard to make that happen.”

“Winthrop’s got them in his back pocket.”

“I noticed.”

“Fuck.” He sighed and bent down to pet Murphy, who stared up at him, wagging his tail.

“Look, there’s no doubt physical abuse took place. We have the pictures you e-mailed over on file. And the stalking through his PI is inarguable, but Winthrop wasn’t in Los Angeles when Sophie had her accident. What it comes down to is we have absolutely no proof tying him to a contract on her life.”

Owens wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t know. He stood again, staring out the window as the detective continued on.

“Winthrop’s attorneys are crying harassment. They’re suggesting the tear in the brake line could’ve happened during the accident. Sophie’s car is in such bad shape it would be hard for the prosecution to prove one way or the other.”

Clenching his jaw, Stone closed his eyes. The waves of helpless anger left his head throbbing. “That’s the most fucking stupid thing I’ve ever heard. The accident occurred
because
of the tear. She couldn’t stop.”

“I’m going to give it to you straight: We’re dead in the water here. Sophie claims she couldn’t stop, but Winthrop’s defense team could easily argue inattentive driving. All they would have to suggest to a jury is she used faulty brakes as an excuse to cover her own ass. Your wife very well may be looking at a civil suit of her own. The driver of the other car’s in just as bad a shape as Sophie is, if not worse. That’s pretty much all the reasonable doubt a jury would have to hear to make them start to wonder.”

This whole thing was a mess. “I took care of those brakes myself. There wasn’t a damn thing wrong with them.”

“Which strengthens their case even further until we can come up with proof otherwise.”

The fucker had covered his tracks well. “This was a hit gone bad,” he said with heat. “You and I both know it.”

“But I need the evidence to back it up. We’re talking attempted murder here. No one’s going to touch this until there’s something that’ll make these charges stick. The State’s not going to take on a case they’re not going to win, especially with Winthrop’s name attached to it.”

“Subpoena his computers and phone.”

“We already have. They were confiscated last night. Hopefully the lab boys find something.”

“So we just sit back and wait in the meantime.” He looked toward the bathroom when the water shut off.

“Pretty much. I’d suggest you keep your wife close for a while. We’ve got eyes on Winthrop. He’ll make a mistake eventually. They all do.”

Eric needed to mess up before Sophie was dead. “Let me know what happens with the lab.”

“Will do.”

“Thanks.” He hung up, shaking his head. He’d never felt so powerless. Owens hadn’t been any help. Basically he and Sophie were supposed to sit back and cross their fingers while Eric fucked with her life. His phone started ringing. Looking at the readout, he answered when Ethan’s name popped up. “Yeah.”

“Hey, it’s Ethan.”

“What’s up?”

“How are things going with Owens?”

“They’re not.” He scratched at his jaw. “Winthrop did a hell of a job covering his tracks.”

“How do you want to handle it?”

“I’ll be sticking close to Sophie for a while until we see what’s what. I don’t know if the asshole’s planning to back off now that the cops are on it or if he’ll come after her again.”

“You’re pretty isolated up there. We could outfit the place with sensors and cameras for the time being. I can send Jackson and Collin over to set you up. It’ll take a few hours.”

“I won’t turn it down.”

“It’s still pretty early. I’ll send them over later this afternoon.”

He looked at his watch, realizing it was only eight thirty. It felt like he’d been awake for hours. “Sounds good.”

“If you want an extra set of eyes at night, Shane’s pulling day duty for the next couple of weeks.”

It was probably overkill, but he thought of Sophie’s battered body. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to guarantee her safety. “Sure, why the hell not?”

“Did you see the article?”

The muscle in his eye started twitching as he sighed, already knowing he didn’t want to. “What article?”

“Toni Terrell took a slap at Sophie the way she did Abby.”

He rested his head against the wall. The bitch reporter made a mess of Abby’s life earlier in the year. Apparently now she was going to screw with Sophie’s. “Fucking great.”

“It’s pretty rough.”

“I’m looking forward to reading it.” He sat down on the couch, opening his laptop.

“Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”

“Thanks, man.” He hung up, setting the phone on the cushion next to him and typed in the
Times
URL, immediately clicking on the fashion section. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, staring at the same picture he had seen of Sophie with Lily and Abby on the night of her debut, reading
Lily Brand’s Freedom Line Disaster
.

Sophie’s footsteps padded down the hall, the familiar scent of her soap and shampoo following her into the room.

He turned the laptop, angling the screen away from her view, looking at her as she stood before him with wet hair dripping on the soft fabric of her robe. “Hey. Did the shower help you relax any?”