Bull (Red, Hot, & Blue) (3 page)

“Senator Dickson is concerned for—let me see if I remember it right—
the physical safety of himself and that of his son
.” The commander did a pretty accurate imitation of the senator they all loved to hate. Not only was the politician a dick, a few years ago he was a big proponent of military budget cuts that would have shut down their base.

“I’m going to be a personal body guard for Senator Dickhead?” That idea made the whole thing a whole lot less appealing.

The commander’s lips twitched at the nickname. “I’m afraid so.”

“Will Jimmy and Lia at least be at this thing too?” Since Jimmy was dating the governor’s daughter, and this was a big political thing, maybe they’d be there. Bull could handle the security detail alone, but mentally he might need to vent to Jimmy rather than punch Senator Dickhead if the guy decided to mouth off.

“Nope. Sorry.” The commander didn’t look all that sorry.

Bull drew in a breath and let it out in a sigh. “All right.”

It looked as if he’d be alone in his duties playing Dickhead’s date for the night. He could only hope to land himself a pretty party guest as a consolation.

Chapter Three

Marly had taken extra time with her hair and makeup tonight. Since she wouldn’t be dazzling the party guests with her musical ability in the state she was in, she figured she better at least distract them with her looks. Not that she thought she was gorgeous, but a big ball gown and an even bigger harp seemed to go a long way in impressing people.

She had no doubt people’s opinion of her playing rose in direct proportion to the extravagance of her outfits. It was a phenomenon she’d often observed but didn’t understand. Thank God for it tonight. She didn’t know which she dreaded more, having to perform on a night when her heart wasn’t in it, or seeing her ex-boyfriend, John.

But dread it or not, she still arrived at the job an hour early, as usual. That way she could do her last-minute tuning in private. More times than not, while she tuned the instrument the party staff and management would run up and tell her how beautiful it sounded. She’d smile and thank them, all while thinking they must be tone deaf because tuning, to her at least, was far from melodic.

It was an impressive instrument though. Beautiful to look at and to hear. Hopefully the instrument would dazzle the crowd on its own, because she wasn’t going to with her playing. Not with John in the room.

With a sigh, she rolled the waist of the full, ball-gown length shirt she wore to temporarily shorten it. She’d modernized the traditional black and white checked taffeta skirt with the addition of a black short-sleeved top that showed just enough cleavage. The combination of the long skirt and fitted top was demure and sexy at the same time.

Of course, while she had the floor-length skirt hiked up so she could carry the forty-pound harp without tripping over her skirt, it was less attractive. Meanwhile, she had to keep assuring the more than helpful staff she could manage the instrument alone. It wouldn’t be the first time nor the last she’d carry it.

Ground-floor gigs, like tonight, were easy. It was stairs that gave her trouble. The weight of the piece wasn’t the issue, its height—or rather her lack of height—was. The harp was taller than she was, all five-foot of her, plus a few inches more if she added heels.

She’d taken her heels off to carry the instrument inside tonight. She definitely hadn’t been looking glamorous upon arrival in the main room, barefooted with her skirt bunched up, when she first spotted the tall hulk of a man in a tuxedo. He was watching her. Funny, he was the biggest guy present and the only one who didn’t try to wrestle the harp out of her hands and carry it for her. Interesting. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

He wore a tuxedo—vest, bowtie, cufflinks and all—but he was early for a guest and it somehow didn’t seem as though he was there for the party. Marly didn’t know who the mystery man was. He wasn’t one of the wait staff. Maybe part of a security detail? That would fit, judging by the sheer size of him. All she did know was that she had better fix herself before any other guests showed up. She pulled down the skirt to proper length, slipped her shoes back on and then set about divesting the harp of its canvas bag.

She threw the harp cover and her big purse in the corner of what was now serving as a storage closet. It was nice being in a familiar venue. She knew where everything was and didn’t have to bother the staff. This wasn’t the first time she’d been hired to entertain here. This mansion was used for more political fundraisers and hoity-toity parties than she could count. The rich may stay at the outrageously overpriced suites at the Hilton in town, but they partied in the historic Lynwood House. Since it had once belonged to a turn-of-the-century robber baron, she figured parties in the forty thousand square foot house were nothing new. These walls had seen their share of rich people doing all sorts of things over the past century.

Mr. Big caught her eye again as she set up her music stand. He was intent on staring at her while still managing to scan the room, before his gaze would come back to her. Definitely security. Probably secret service. Who knew? Maybe the president would show up. Great. Just what she needed. As if she weren’t nervous enough.

She propped up the notebook full of sheet music and turned to adjust her stool. When she glanced his way again, it was to discover that the tall, dark and mysterious man had moved out of the room. Thank God for small favors. She didn’t need him as a distraction too. It was all she could do to concentrate given her dread of the impending confrontation with her ex. No matter John had assured her he would leave her alone during the party, there was still after the party to worry about.

“I want you by my side at all times. Do you understand?”

Senator Dickhead was tall, but Bull was taller and wider, so when he stood next to the man for his lecture, he felt like an overgrown child.

“Sir, I’ll be far more effective standing apart from you where I can see a threat coming from any direction. If I’m next to you, there will always be a blind spot.” Didn’t the man know to trust the professionals?

Bull had learned the hazards of ignoring the blind spot when he’d gotten taken out during last night’s exercise. Only anyone shooting at Dickhead tonight wouldn’t be using paint balls. As much of an idiot as the senator was, it was still Bull’s job to protect him.

Dickhead considered Bull’s point for a moment. “All right. But no farther than ten feet. And when my son arrives, you’ll have to keep an eye on both of us.”

Oh, joy.
Why didn’t Bull just get some rope and tie the three of them together? Jimmy should have been sent with him on this crap assignment. These were his people now that he was living with the governor’s daughter. They sure as hell weren’t Bull’s kind of people.

Not only was Dickhead a…well, dickhead, but Bull’s bowtie was strangling him and his leg holster was starting to chafe his skin beneath his pants leg when he walked. Fuck this formal wear crap. Give him his flak jacket and an automatic weapon strap over his shoulder any day.

The senator turned and strode from the relative privacy of the foyer where they’d been discussing the safety issue to the main room. As instructed, Bull paced ten feet, rolled his eyes and then followed in Dickhead’s wake. Once in the main room, the older man paused to speak with some rich dude, so Bull stopped and took the opportunity to evaluate the guests.

He thought it doubtful the man and woman Dickhead was currently bending the ear of posed a risk. He doubted anyone invited to this party presented any sort of danger at all, except for maybe boring him to death. Matt and his magic computer had run an in-depth search on every name on the guest and staff lists. They’d all come up clean as a whistle. Well, at least as far as security was concerned. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were plenty of skeletons in the closets of these folks. It seemed rich people and politicians were on the news every day for some scandal or another. Couldn’t keep their dicks in their pants or their hands out of someone else’s pocket.

He glanced around the room one more time. There wasn’t much else to do except stand here and keep his eyes open. He’d arrived earlier than the guests and swept the building top to bottom for explosives. And if the threat came sometime during the party from outside the building, such as a missile or a car bomb, Bull was helpless to stop it anyway. Especially if he remained tied to the senator on an invisible ten-foot leash.

So all he could do was endure his uncomfortable shoes and wait for the unlikely event that the little old man and his much-too-young date speaking with the senator now might whip out a knife and stab Dickhead, not that Bull could blame them if they did. Oh, he’d stop them, but he’d definitely understand their motivation.

At least there was one upside to the evening. His gaze swept the room and settled on the cute little thing he’d seen effortlessly hefting a harp bigger than she was. It seemed she wouldn’t have had any problem at all if she weren’t wearing that ridiculously long skirt. He did like her top though. Low cut and tight in all the right places. She had the assets to show it off right too. She played the harp like an angel but had a body built for the devil, just like he liked.

Mmm, mmm. He’d have to volunteer for babysitting duty more often if this scenery came with it. Maybe after Dickhead left for the night, Bull would help her carry the thing out to her car. She might even thank him with a kiss. Wouldn’t that be nice?

“Bull.” Matt’s voice seemed to explode out of Bull’s eardrum.

He jumped and turned toward the wall so the other guests in the room wouldn’t see him talking to himself. “Jesus, Matt. You scared the crap out of me. What?”

“The threat’s been bumped up. It looks like it’s fucking real. We’re on our way to you now.”

“Where’s it coming from?” Bull’s heart kicked into high gear.

“It’s right up your alley, buddy. Chatter on the lines indicates a bomb.”

“I swept the building—”

“It’s hidden somewhere
inside
the walls.”

“What? How?” Bull had spoken rather loud and got a few stares from the guests nearest him.

“There were workmen there six frigging months ago repairing the plaster. One of them has suspected terrorist ties. I was bored and started to check back just for fun.”

Bull never did understand Matt’s idea of fun, but it was a damn good thing he’d decided to have some fun tonight. A work crew six months ago had planted the bomb? This had been in the works for a while. Organization like that meant these guys were serious.

“Now the original threat makes sense.” Matt continued, “It was some sort of riddle about the walls of Jericho coming down. No one took it seriously until I found the record of the crew that worked on the walls.”

“What do you want me to do until you get here?” He didn’t want to start a panic, and he really didn’t want to tip his hand.

If the bomb was built to trigger with a detonator, that device could be held by anyone inside or outside the building. Letting that person know the good guys had discovered the plot would force the bomber’s hand. Bull reevaluated the guests and staff. There weren’t many people here. It was still early. That was good. The terrorist would want the biggest bang for his buck and wait for a full house.

“Get the senator out, first of all. We’ll never live it down if we let him get killed. But don’t let him know anything. Don’t let anyone know anything yet.”

“Affirmative.” Bull moved closer to the senator. “Sir. Excuse me for interrupting. I need to speak with you. Now.”

When Dickhead—the frigging cocky idiot—looked annoyed that the security he’d insisted on being up his ass all night had bothered him, Bull added, “It’s urgent.”

It must have hit him something was wrong. His eyes went wide and he opened his mouth. Bull grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room before he could blow their one advantage—the element of surprise. The guests, and probably the terrorist, would guess Bull was security, but no one but the Senator knew he came attached to a special task force highly trained for situations exactly such as this. And no one knew the good guys had discovered what the bad guys were up to.

Outside the building, Bull did a visual sweep of the area. It was deserted except for a few valets waiting around to park any new arrivals’ cars. Even so, Bull pulled the senator to where they could speak without being heard.

“What’s happening?” Dickhead’s voice rose, tinged with panic.

He didn’t feel comfortable telling Dickhead the truth, didn’t trust him to keep his cool or keep quiet, so he’d have to make up some cock-and-bull story. The man was probably a Chicken Little—the type to run around screaming at the slightest provocation. No way Bull could tell him there was very likely a bomb hidden inside the walls of the building where his hoity-toity associates still were.

“Nothing yet.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. “It’s just a precaution.”

“If it’s nothing, then why the hell did you drag me out here?”

Bull clenched his jaw and mentally talked himself down from telling the senator what he thought about him. “There’s new information about the threat. My orders are to keep you out of the building until further notice.”

They should evacuate. The commander would probably have Bull trip the fire alarm. That would clear the building but wouldn’t tip off the bombers. But until the commander and the team arrived, his orders had been to get Dickhead out, and he’d done that. Now he figured he was free to go unobtrusively search for the bomb and the bombers… If Dickhead would get clear of the damn building and let Bull do his job.