Saving Sophie: Book Seven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series (33 page)

She shrugged. “A little, I guess, although washing my hair one-handed was more challenging than I thought it would be.”

“Maybe you’ll let me help next time.” He’d offered to hop in with her, but she’d turned him down.

She smiled. “I’ll figure it out all by myself, I’m sure.”

He smiled back. “I guess that’s up to you.”

She sat down next to him. “So what did the detective say?

He turned the screen further away. “Not a whole lot. It’s going to take some time to straighten all of this out.”

She huffed out a breath. “What are we supposed to do in the meantime?”

“What we usually do. You’ll get back to work when you’re feeling up to it, and I’ll tag along for a while until we know exactly what’s going on.”

“I’m going to have to go back to my apartment eventually.”

He didn’t want to think about that. “Eventually, but you need to stay with me for the time being.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

That was easier than he’d expected, but the next conversation wouldn’t be. “Soph, Toni Terrell wrote an article about you in the
Times
.”

“
What
?”

He turned the screen and she gasped, scooting closer.

“Lily Brand’s
Freedom
line disaster?” Her shocked eyes met his. “I can’t
believe
this.” She moved closer, her leg and arm brushing his as they both read.

Allegations of domestic violence against Eric Winthrop, famous painter and ex-fiancé…theft of thousands of dollars and warrant issued for her arrest…secret quickie wedding, marrying ex-mercenary…stalking private investigator…reckless driving almost causing a fatal accident.

He continued scanning the shit article detailing Eric’s suspensions and canceled art show, bringing up the restraining order, civil lawsuit, and pictures documenting brutal beatings, speculating their existence and whether or not they would be the end of Eric Winthrop’s impressive career.

Sophie cleared her throat as she stood and started toward the bedroom.

“Soph.” He followed her, capturing her wrist, turning her around.

She stared at him as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Damn it. He hated seeing that devastated look. “Come here.” He pulled her into his arms.

She wrapped herself tightly around him as her breath shuddered in and out.

“I’m sorry, Soph.” He kissed the top of her head, brushing his fingers through her hair.

“Why would she do that?” She eased back enough to meet his gaze.

“She’s a terrible person.”

“Doesn’t she realize she’s hurting the women and children Lily Brand is trying to help? If the public sees me as some irresponsible villain, they won’t buy my jewelry, which means profits go down for Stowers House.”

He wiped away her tears. “Some people don’t care. Clearly she doesn’t.”

“This is definitely going to damage my name, and possibly Lily and Abby’s.”

He stroked her cheeks. “Maybe for a little while, but I’m sure Lily’s not going to put up with this. She knows your story, Soph. You’re a survivor like Abby. You’re just as strong.”

Her lips trembled as her eyes softened. “Thank you.”

“You, Lily, and Abby will turn this around. I have no doubt in my mind.”

“He’s going to see that article. Eric’s going to see it and retaliate again.”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

She blew out a breath, pressing her forehead to his chest.

He lifted her chin. “But this time he’ll have to come after both of us. We’re going to fix this once and for all, Soph.” He pressed a kiss to her lips and pulled her close again, holding on. He wouldn’t stop until they did.

~~~~

Eric walked up his front steps, glancing over his shoulder at the unmarked police car down the road. He’d notice the black vehicle sitting by the curb this morning when he left to run errands, then he spotted it again at the library several minutes ago, and now here by his own place of residence. It was tempting to march over to the late model Chevy, pound on the glass, and demand the nosy bastards get the hell out of here, but his attorney warned him not to add any fuel to LAPD’s fire.

Clyde had hinted that surveillance was a likely possibility, but he hadn’t expected the men he played golf with to betray him. They’d turned tide, siding with Sophie, helping her try to build a case against him. He opened the door and shut himself inside, resting his body against the solid wood. His heart pounded and his breath puffed in and out with a deep rage and fear he hadn’t been able to shake. His life was falling apart around him—videotaped interviews with the police, phone and computer confiscations here at the house and gallery, and the article Toni Terrell published this morning in the
Times
that the
Bangor Chronicle
picked up and printed. Everything he’d been able to keep carefully under wraps was now out in the open for everyone to see.

The town was treating him like a criminal. Few people shook his hand at the diner during the breakfast rush. He’d caught more than one person eyeing him while they cut into their eggs or French toast. No one was on his side, and it was all Sophie’s fault.

Swearing, he hurried upstairs, walking into the closet, pulling the phone the cops hadn’t known about from the pocket of one of his navy blue sports coats. He dialed the number he’d memorized, waiting through three rings.

“Yeah.”

“I want that thumb drive, and I want it
now
.”

“Not gonna happen. There are people swarming McCabe’s place—putting in cameras and sensors.”

He pounded his fist against the cedar shelving. “Goddammit!”

“This is starting to get a little more complicated than I want to deal with.”

“I paid you.”

“Half, which takes care of Sanders.”

“You owe me Sophie and the thumb drive.”

“I owed you the blond and thumb drive before the cops and reporters got involved. You shoulda let me put a bullet in her head.”

“So do it. Fucking shoot her and make her disappear.”

“Mmm, it’s gonna cost you more.”

He pulled the phone away and set it back against his ear. “
More
? I’m giving you half a million as it is.”

“Another two-fifty and your ex won’t be a problem by the end of the week.”

“Tomorrow.”

“It’ll happen when I see the opportunity.”

“As long as you find it before the week is out.”

“Get me the money.”

“I can’t just fly off to New York.” He glanced through the doorway of the large walk-in closet, through the windows in the bedroom. “I’ve got cops following my every move.” And it wouldn’t be long before the reporters started knocking on his door.

“Fine. I’ll finish the deal, but if you even think about blowing me off, I’ll take care of you next.”

“You’ll get your money. Just make Sophie vanish.”

“You got it.”

He hung up, shoved the phone back where he’d taken it from, and started downstairs toward the bar.
Never
had anyone told him what to do. He was always in control, but another quarter million was well worth Sophie’s murder. He poured a drink, toasting the men in the black vehicle, deciding that having them close by wasn’t such a bad idea after all. When Sophie turned up dead it would be all but impossible to pin it on him. The cops in Bangor and LA wouldn’t be able to argue that he hadn’t been right here.

Sophie pulled the roast from the oven, making
certain she had an extra good grip on the pan with her casted arm jammed awkwardly in the oven mitt. She set the herb-crusted pork on the platter she’d readied, ignoring the sharp twinges plaguing her ribcage when she moved too quickly to turn off the burner under the steamed green beans.

Over the past couple of days her pain had lessened from excruciating to a constant annoying ache and her mobility had improved enough to allow her to tackle several light household chores and get back to McCabe Jewelry part-time, not that being there seemed to matter much. Few customers had walked through the doors since Toni Terrell created a media firestorm with her Sunday morning article. Both Lily and Abby had assured her the worst would blow over before long, but so far the press wasn’t letting up. Journalists and photographers camped out in front of her shop then followed her and Stone wherever they went, whether it be the doctor’s for her follow up examination or the grocery store to buy food for dinner.

The only place she and Stone were able to escape the constant scrutiny was here on the cliffs, where no trespassing signs were posted throughout his property. He’d borrowed Bear and Reece from Ethan Sunday afternoon and had no qualms about calling the cops and pressing charges against the first reporter who’d been foolish enough to knock on his front door. They hadn’t had problems since—at least here. Stone’s home had quickly become their oasis from the chaos of scandal.

The tabloid and entertainment rags had been relentless, posting daily speculations as to whether the talented, generous artist from the quaint New England town could possibly have abused UConn’s former basketball superstar-turned-jewelry designer. More than one article had compared side-by-side pictures of her and Eric posing at his gallery events in stuffy, elegant clothing to present-day photos of her and Stone walking to his Mustang among the swarm of paparazzi, their arms wrapped around each other’s waists with Stone in jeans, a polo, and sunglasses while she wore the trendy attire she’d grown accustomed to. The stark difference between Eric’s snooty suits and ties and Stone’s casual bad-boy looks fueled the flames of controversy higher.

More than one journalist had dug into Stone’s past, shining a light on his troubled childhood and time in the Middle East. They vilified him as the selfish mercenary who’d cashed in on the war, suggesting that he was a harmful influence on Lily Brand’s talented new darling, leading her down the wrong path to false accusations. Somehow Stone was getting more bad press than Eric, and Stone was the one who’d
helped
her.

She plopped garlic mashed potatoes into a serving dish, feeling a sudden rush of anger. Why did Eric constantly get away with everything? He’d had someone tamper with her brakes, and
she
was being cast as some irresponsible ditz who’d nearly caused a fatal accident. Was she not the one with the broken arm and bruised ribs?

She slapped the platter on the table and twisted at the waist for the side dishes, wincing with the sharp pain. “Damn,” she muttered, turning carefully, her eyes welling with frustrated tears as she glanced at the new shade blocking her view of the water beyond. Every window had been covered, preventing anyone from seeing in or she and Stone from looking out. Video equipment had been brought in, filling every available inch of free space with monitors and cables running across the floors so Stone and Shane could keep a lookout for the mystery man who still might be trying to kill her.

She closed her eyes, gripping the cool granite countertop, trying her best to pull herself together. The new life she’d built had quickly turned into the nightmare she thought she’d left behind. No matter the steps she’d taken to escape, Eric was still in charge. She was as afraid now as she had been the night she ran away, if not more. The constant need to look over her shoulder plagued her as much as it had months ago. She’d been gone several weeks, yet she walked on eggshells and was as alert to danger as if she turned her back on Bangor yesterday.

Taking a steadying breath, she faced the table and the cooling dinner she’d prepared, wanting to focus on what she had right this moment. She was safe for the time being. There was food on the table and a hungry man in the living room waiting to be called. “Time to eat.”

She heard Stone’s grunt of response and peeked in at him fiddling with one of the dozens of wires attached to the flat screen as she sat down, pretending she had an appetite for the meal she’d cooked.

~~~~

“Smells good,” Stone said as he walked into the kitchen, checking out the spread Sophie had prepared. “Looks even better.” He took his seat across from her.

“Thank you,” she replied, sending him a small smile. “How about some mashed potatoes?” She reached for his plate and cringed as she stretched forward.

“How about I give you a hand instead.” He grabbed her plate, putting sliced pork, mashed potatoes, and green beans on her dish.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He helped himself to huge portions, eagerly anticipating Sophie’s latest meal. He’d eaten very well since she declared herself more than capable of cooking a few simple dinners. Taking a bite, he groaned, savoring the melt-in-your-mouth meat with a sensational rosemary and thyme flavor. “God, this is amazing, Soph.” He cut another piece, scooping up fluffy potatoes to sample as well, pausing with the fork at his lips when he realized she had yet to start eating. “You gonna have some?”

“Sure.” She picked up her silverware, stabbed a green bean, and put it in her mouth as she glanced at him with miserable eyes.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

He raised his brow. They both knew that was bullshit.

She huffed out a breath. “I guess I’m just getting tired of everything that’s going on.”

She’d been a champ putting up with the assholes who’d followed them around constantly. Despite the smear campaign and backlash to her business, she went into work every day, and she had yet to complain about the equipment crowding their house. All in all she was handling the press and potential threat to her life incredibly well, but as he studied her closely, he realized the stress was starting to eat at her. “It sucks, but you’re hanging in there.”

“I just hate—I hate that the media has dragged you into this.”

He shrugged. If he was taking some of the heat, they were leaving her alone.

“It’s a big deal, Stone,” she said, her voice riddled with frustration, pushing away from the table. “Eric’s the bad guy here, and they’ve made you look like the problem.”

He hooked his legs around the feet of her chair, pulling her back in. “I’m not ashamed of anything I did overseas. I had a job to do, did it well, and was paid accordingly. I know who I am. I don’t give two shits about what they write or say about me.”

“You saved me.”

“And I’d do it again.” He held her gaze, making sure she understood he meant it.

She blinked back tears as she took his hand and pressed his palm to her cheek. “I’m so lucky I have you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Her eyes widened as she stared at him, immediately releasing him from her grip.

He swallowed, relieved by her clearly unintended confession, debating whether he should press his advantage. He picked up his fork instead and took another bite, now one hundred percent certain Sophie had left him because she thought he wanted Amber. When he fixed things between them once and for all she wouldn’t be thinking of Eric or the media. He had every intention of reminding her she was the only woman he needed in his life. By the time he finished she would no longer doubt that they belonged together. “Eat, Soph. This is too good to throw away.”

She picked up her fork, darting him a glance as she took a decent bite of pork and potatoes. Swallowing, she cleared her throat in the tense silence. “Is Shane coming over tonight?”

“Yeah. He should be here pretty soon.”

She sipped her water. “We can’t keep asking him to stay over.”

“I’ll ask for whatever I have to until we know for sure you’re safe.”

“That could take longer than a few nights, right? If there actually is someone trying to hurt me, he might be waiting for you to let your guard down.”

He’d driven himself crazy with the same thoughts, so he decided to focus on each day as it came instead. “The cops are working on it.”

“What about your job? You can’t stay by my side forever. Ethan needs you.”

“And so do you.” He took another bite and swallowed. “We’re going to wait and see what the police come up with. They’re watching Eric in Bangor, and Owens is doing what he can on this end.”

She pressed her lips together, releasing a long breath through her nose. “It doesn’t seem like enough.”

It sure as hell didn’t. “But it’s what we’ve got for now.” He brushed the tips of her fingers with his, doing what he could to reassure her. “This is what I do for a living, Soph. You’ve gotta trust that me and the guys know how to keep you safe.”

“I do.”

“Good—” He stopped as the sensor started beeping on the central panel, alerting him to a breech on the property. Rushing to his feet, he hurried into the living room and activated the main switch on the keypad, immediately flooding the majority of his land with bright light from the fixtures Jackson and Collin had installed. He checked for any movements on the dozens of images filling the monitor.

“What is it?” Sophie followed. “What does the red light mean?”

“One of the motion sensors activated back by the canyons.” He scrutinized the footage, backing up the pictures from the last five minutes. He spotted the hint of shadow at the edge of the screen. Someone was here, or had been. He glanced at his watch and grabbed his phone, dialing Owens when he realized Shane wasn’t due for another twenty minutes.

“Detective Owens.”

“Owens, it’s Stone McCabe. I need a car out here to the house.”

“What’s going on?”

“We have potential activity along the back perimeter of my property by the canyons. The motion sensors activated, and I’ve picked up a shadow on the cameras.”

Owens muttered something. “There’s a patrol car in the area. They’ll be right over.”

“Thanks.” He hung up and rewound the footage again, catching the quick, dark spot that vanished as soon as the lights glowed bright.

“Is he here?”

“There’s an officer on the way,” he muttered, sitting down. He focused on his job, zooming in on the movement.

“So he is?”

He glanced up, realizing Sophie stood at his side, pale, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Hey.” He pulled her into his lap, brushing his fingers through her hair. “It’s probably nothing. For all I know there’s a wild animal running around, or some dumbass reporter trying to be sneaky. We’re just checking to be on the safe side.”

She nodded as his phone rang.

“Yeah.”

“It’s Shane. I’m turning up your road. Why am I following a cruiser?”

“One of the sensors activated.”

“I’ll go out with the officer and see what’s up.”

“I appreciate it.” He hung up, relieved to know he had backup for the night. “That was Shane. The cops are pulling in, and so is he. We’ve got this, Soph. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She held herself tense. “I know.”

His phone rang again as he pulled her closer against his chest, staying mindful of her still-tender body. “Yeah.”

“It’s Shane. We found a few footprints.”

He clenched his jaw instead of swearing, not wanting to frighten Sophie. “Okay.”

“We’re going to look around and follow the tracks.”

“Let me know when you start heading back.”

“I will.”

He stared at the monitor watching Shane and the officer disappear down into the canyons beyond his property. It would be interesting to see what they found. He’d told Sophie it was probably just a reporter, but what would someone searching for the next Sophie McCabe story be doing all the way out there?