Private Bodyguard (6 page)

Oliver's instinct was to question Dan's claim of seeing Nigel in the first place, but he felt an irrational loyalty to him, because it was obvious that was how Darling felt about him.

“I don't think prints take that long to process,” he said instead. “Surely they'll figure out who she is within the week and go from there.”

Darling's face darkened. She held up her hand. “Five,” she said, voice shaking despite her calm exterior, “all of her fingers and teeth are missing. Someone removed them.”

Chapter Six

Any chance of normal conversation disappeared at the grim news.

“Removed?” Oliver repeated.

Darling let her hand drop to her side and settled back behind her desk. Her half-eaten donut wasn't as appealing as it had been minutes before.

“Postmortem, but yes,” she confirmed.

Oliver also sat back down, though he didn't relax.

“Who told you all this?”

“Derrick,” she admitted.

“You two must be close if he'll disclose information about an ongoing murder investigation.”

“We used to date, but now we don't,” she said matter-of-factly. “I think he told me to warn me.”

Oliver's eyebrow rose at that. “Warn you? Of what?”

“That my case against Nigel isn't safe anymore,” she said. “Considering the murder.”

“So he thinks Nigel is still connected even though he's denied being in town?”

“I'm not the only one who trusts Dan. Just because Nigel has an alibi for where he physically was at the time of the murder doesn't mean he isn't connected.” Darling recalled the pictures of the millionaire and the red-haired woman. Derrick had confirmed their Jane Doe also had red hair. If they could prove it was the same woman, Nigel would have no choice but to offer her identity up.

“You think he's denying knowing her because he had someone else kill her,” Oliver summarized. Darling didn't nod or shake her head. She was trying indifference. “Why would he go through all of that trouble?” he asked.

“Something tells me he can't afford an affair right now.”

Darling froze. She was being too candid with Oliver, though she wondered if it even mattered anymore. Soon the town of Mulligan would hear the rumor that Nigel had been at the hotel and the woman who had been with him was dead. With or without denials, the idea that Nigel was an adulterer would cross each resident's mind at least once. The beloved Nigel Marks was about to have his image tested with or without her saying a word.

“Ah,” Oliver said with a slight nod. “The prenup loophole. If he cheats, the wife can take at least half of everything Nigel owns.”

“What?” She feigned ignorance but barely concealed her surprise. Oliver wasn't buying it.

“You aren't the only person with connections,” he said. “If working for Redstone Solutions taught us anything, it was to be thorough in knowing the clients we take on. That includes the threats to them. Orion may be small and less well funded, but that doesn't mean our analysts are anything to laugh at.” That piqued Darling's interest, but she didn't interrupt to follow up. “If Elizabeth Marks wasn't in the Bahamas right now, she would be the first person I would suspect. Although, like you said about Nigel, she could still be connected even though she wasn't physically there.”

“But, even if what you say is true about this prenup thing,” she said, “why kill the mistress when you can expose her?”

“Why expose the mistress when you can kill her?”

“Ah, casting blame on the jilted wife. An overplayed card, don't you think?” Darling quirked her lip up into a grin.

He laughed. “I'm assuming the case you have against Nigel is about infidelity. Why else would you be snooping around his house and then the hotel he was at?”

“Nigel Marks is almost a legend in Mulligan. Who's to say I'm not his number-one fan?” Darling had her eyebrow raised high, a smirk across her lips to match. She knew Oliver wasn't dumb, but she wasn't going to admit to her deal with Elizabeth yet. There were a few questions she needed to ask the millionaire's wife first.

“Last time I checked, you weren't the biggest fan of the upper class,” Oliver said. She couldn't deny that. “That's why I assume you asked the hotel owner to keep an eye out for Nigel, just in case.”

Darling held up her hands. “Okay, you got me,” she said. “I am Nigel's number-one fan. I have a poster of him over my bed and everything.”

Oliver laughed, and the mood around them softened. They lapsed into small talk while picking up and finishing their food, avoiding the topics of murder and blame. They were delving into their individual pasts, while the one they shared wasn't brought up. Darling silently marveled at how the Oliver that sat across from her was so similar to the one all those years ago, and yet completely different. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, though she didn't want to, either. Trying to define Oliver Quinn would be a slippery slope—if she found she liked the new one, then what? It was better for everyone if she just played nice and treated the man as an old friend, nothing more and nothing less.

“Speaking of the job,” Oliver said, “I need to go relieve Thomas. He worked well past his hours last night.”

“Not to pry into your work, but where does the whole murder accusation leave you with Marks?” she asked, standing with him and ignoring the small part of her that wanted him to stay.

“Innocent until proven guilty.” He shrugged. “The fact that he was with my team during the woman's death is an ironclad alibi, in my mind. The only way we'll stop working for him now is if Nigel terminates the contract or Nikki calls us off. Considering he already signed a contract, it'll cost him more to get out of it than to stay in it, and last time I talked to Nikki, she said we continue to do our job. She's a good person, Darling. There's a reason we all trust her to make the right call.”

Darling nodded, not wanting to point out that everyone at some point was wrong. If this was Nikki's time, it meant Oliver and his team were protecting the man behind a woman's murder. But she let that thought slide. She wasn't Oliver's mother or wife or even his girlfriend. Darling couldn't dictate his choices just as he couldn't dictate hers.

“It
was
nice catching up with you, though,” he added, meeting her eyes and holding her gaze. “Even the bumpy parts.”

Darling couldn't help but smile back. “It certainly has been interesting.”

Oliver picked up his coffee and slid his phone back into his pocket. Darling didn't know if she was supposed to hug him or shake his hand as a goodbye. It wasn't as if they had done either in greeting the day before when he had strolled into the town jail to get her out. As she struggled with trying to figure out what to say to the man who had broken her heart, Oliver saved her the trouble.

“I would say goodbye, but I have a feeling you'll pop back up in the middle of wherever you aren't supposed to be. So I'll just see you then.” She returned his smile with a mischievous one of her own and watched as he walked out of her office.

He was absolutely right.

An hour passed without any new leads, evidence or answers. Darling was feeling unbelievably restless. She half expected Derrick to call or stop by with a no-nonsense attitude about her case, but Acuity's door remained closed and her phone remained quiet.

So Darling, unable to cope with the fact she wasn't making progress, made a list of all the evidence and facts she had. It reminded her that her camera was still beneath Dan's desk at the hotel.

“Better than sitting here and doing nothing,” she said to the office.

Despite yesterday's discovery, the Mulligan Motel looked as normal as it ever did. No one was in the office, but Darling preferred that. She hurried to grab her camera, hoping to avoid explaining to Dan why she was back.

It took a few seconds to register that there was no camera to grab.

“What the?” she asked herself, squatting to make sure it hadn't been pushed out of view.

Darling's blood ran cold.

There was a piece of paper where her camera had been. Written across it in red ink was a message.

You already did the right thing, Darling. Now stop.

Chapter Seven

He wasn't tall, he wasn't big and he wasn't intimidating. His shoulders weren't wide, either, but he still held himself up straight and proud. With dark hair, muddy-green eyes and a surprisingly hard jaw, Jace Marks was sculpted with equal parts his father and the most average of people.

Oliver shook the twenty-six-year-old's hand and couldn't help but compare him with Nigel.

While his father dressed to impress, Jace wore a blue flannel button-up, jeans and tennis shoes. Instead of having a cropped haircut like Nigel's, Jace slicked back his short hair with a pair of sunglasses resting on top. Despite the past forty-eight hours, he looked rested enough.

However, one detail that matched his father to a tee was the trademark smile he wore easily. It spoke of wealth, privilege and many, many secrets.

“It's good to properly meet you,” Jace said. He shook Oliver's hand. He had a firm grip, which also surprised Oliver. “A passing hello at the police station isn't the same thing, if you ask me.”

“No problem. I didn't realize you would be in Mulligan during our stay,” Oliver admitted. All clients were asked to disclose pertinent information. That included their travel companions.

“When the merger got complicated, Nigel called me in,” he answered. “I hadn't planned on staying, but given recent events, I feel I should be here to support him.”

They were standing in the kitchen, Oliver next to the back door with a clear sight line to the front. Nigel was still upstairs in his study with his lawyer, Stan, while Grant was stationed outside the door. Oliver had sent Thomas to rest as soon as he had come through the door, considering the new recruit hadn't slept yet.

“Nigel,” Oliver repeated the name. Had he been informed wrong? Was Jace a stepson and not the millionaire's blood relation?

“He doesn't like when he's referred to as Father in a work setting,” Jace answered with an apologetic smile. “He doesn't want anyone to think he's partaking in favoritism. So we keep to a first-name basis when working, but I guess it's become a general habit.”

Oliver supposed that made sense. He didn't call Nikki by her first name in front of the new recruits or clients, but that was more of a show of respect. Members of Orion earned the right to be familiar with the head honcho by doing a good job and remaining humble. Nigel having his son call him by his first name might make sense, but Oliver couldn't deny he didn't like the informality of it. If he'd ever called his dad by his name, Jacob Quinn would have been fast to correct him.

“So you work at Charisma?” Oliver asked when it was apparent Jace wasn't leaving the kitchen anytime soon.

He sat down at the island and faced Oliver. “It's the only place I've ever worked,” he said with notable pride. “I oversee the company's support specialists and deal directly with the more complicated clients, walking them through every part of the investment process. With this merger going through, however, I'm hoping to make the move up in the ranks. But now, with this...” He looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. “I just hope it all gets taken care of before it does any damage to the company.”

Oliver couldn't help the raise of his eyebrow or, he was sure, the look of slight disgust that contorted his face. If Darling had been in the room, she would have flown right off the handle at how crass the millionaire's son was being. She would have pointed out in no uncertain terms that he was referring to a human being who had been murdered and that finding justice for her was much more important.

But Darling wasn't there.

“Hopefully it will be sorted out,” Oliver offered.

Jace nodded, oblivious to Oliver's thoughts. “You know, I told Nigel he shouldn't have even come back to Mulligan for the merger. I could have handled it and stayed in the city, but he's getting stubborn in his old age.” He frowned, and his brow creased. “If he had listened to me, this whole ordeal could have been avoided. But he loves this place, the small town he came from and the people who love him. I wonder, though, if they'll love him after all of this.”

Oliver didn't have an answer to that.

“I should get going now. This merger won't happen by itself.” Jace grabbed a water from the refrigerator and started to leave. “In case Nigel didn't tell you or your boss, my mother will be here by the end of the week.”

“No, I haven't been told that yet,” Oliver said, already cursing in his head.

“This family is all about supporting one another,” Jace said. “You accuse one of us of murder, you accuse all of us of murder.” He said it with sarcasm, meant to be an offhand joke, but Oliver saw the irony in it. Jace's parents were, in fact, the top two suspects.

For the next three hours, Oliver did the more boring parts of bodyguard work while his mind kept running. If a thought wasn't about his current client, it was undoubtedly about a petite, sandy-haired woman with more attitude than even she probably knew what to do with. Darling Smith was incapable of ignoring what was wrong in the world. It was an infuriating and endearing quality that he hadn't realized he missed.

He moved through the first floor, scanning his surroundings with tried interest. Oliver liked to memorize each piece as if he hadn't done it the previous day. That way, if something was off—if something had changed—he'd be more likely to notice.

The smaller details often ended up making the most impact.

* * *

T
HE
LONGER
D
ARLING
stared at the note, the harder she willed it to explain itself.

“Who wrote you?” she asked it for the tenth time. “And why?”

Like the nine times before, the note didn't answer. Instead, it stayed frustratingly still against the top of her desk, its red ink blaring across the surface.

You already did the right thing, Darling. Now
stop
.

There was no denying the message had been intended for her.

So, Darling had gone back to her car with the hairs on the back of her neck standing at salute, also confused. She had driven back to Acuity and pulled the newspaper clipping with the first note out to compare the two.

The handwriting and color had matched perfectly.

Whoever wanted Nigel's affair out in the open was not only was watching Darling but also had taken her camera. Why? The cops had seen everything in that room plus more once they had gotten there.

Darling growled to her office.

It felt like a threat.

Had Nigel caught wind of her case against him, or had he figured it out like Oliver had? But then why give her the pictures of Nigel and the red-haired woman, and urge her to turn them in to the police? And why tell her to stop?

Stop what?

Darling cast a long look at her empty coffee cup. It was nearly five, and she had put off calling Derrick for hours. Just as her resolve to disclose everything began to dissolve, her phone chirped to life with the name Liz across the screen.

“You're very hard to get a hold of,” Darling greeted her, no humor in her voice.

Elizabeth didn't waste an excuse.

“We both know I'm a suspect in this murder. I'm having to cut my vacation short while recording my recent movements to send over to my lawyer. All under the ever-watchful eye of my mother. Be thankful I was finally able to step away from her.”

“Does she not know about your case with me?”

“No. I love my mother, but I don't love her tendency to run her mouth. Give her enough wine and she'll tell you every secret she's ever been told.” Elizabeth was tired, that much Darling could tell. She pictured the woman's impeccable posture slightly bent, makeup pulling double duty to hide the stress in her face. “Have you told anyone about our case yet?”

“No, ma'am. I wanted to at least talk to you first.” There was a silence, and Darling used it to her advantage. “Did you hire another private investigator to trail Nigel before me or after me?”

“No,” Elizabeth responded. “Truthfully, hiring you was a last-minute decision. The less people know about my plans to leave Nigel, the better. That being said, I want you to go to the police and tell them everything.”

Darling had to take a beat to process that. “About the case?”

“About the case, the reason why I hired you, what you've found, everything.” There was a change in her tone. Elizabeth had moved from tired to determined in a breath. She brooked no argument with her words. “Give them total disclosure. I don't want them looking at me as a suspect. I didn't hire anyone to kill that woman, and I don't want anyone to think I did. I will ask, though, if you think the police could keep my desire for a divorce on the private side of the investigation?”

Darling thought this over. “I can't promise anything, but I think they would. Nigel has denied knowing the woman or even seeing her, so right now, I think they are just trying to figure out who she is. I don't think they would take the time to publicize your marital problems.”

“Good. Then, please, could you tell them everything while still trying to keep it from Nigel?”

“Yes, I can do that.” Darling wanted to exhale in relief. Elizabeth didn't know it, but if she hadn't called before six, Darling would have told Derrick everything anyway.

“Great. Now, one last thing,” Elizabeth said before her voice dropped to almost a whisper. “I don't care how you do it, but I want you to find out who that woman is. My husband may be a cheat, but he's no killer. Something isn't right, and now my family is suffering for it. I will not stand for that.”

Darling didn't doubt for a second that anyone who crossed Elizabeth Marks would regret it. She just hoped Jane Doe hadn't been one of those people.

Darling accepted the job, though she didn't tell Elizabeth she had already decided to pursue the woman's identity. She marveled at how straightforward Elizabeth had been. It was refreshing in a way. She wasn't sugarcoating anything, and she wasn't trying to get Darling to lie about their involvement. No, she knew she was in a compromising position and was trying to get out of it. Full disclosure to the police. That hadn't been what Darling had expected, but she was happy to comply. Grabbing her coat and cell phone, she began dialing Derrick's number as she closed up Acuity for the night.

The sun was setting, leaving a light glow hanging around the parking lot. It was serene and almost calming. A feeling Darling tried to hold on to as she approached her car and saw the door was cracked open. On the driver's seat was a paper bag.

In it was her camera.