Page 47 of Heart of Danger
“Well, the blogs forgot to mention the fact that the fuck had been stalking her foryears. Sending razor blades in roses, live scorpions in jewelry boxes, once a diamond ring on the leg of a giant tarantula. All that good stuff. And her fuckingentouragehid all that from her. They vetted everything that was sent to her and vetted her calls. Assholes never let on that she was under threat, because it would upset her and upset their meal ticket.” Mac’s fists balled. The thought of it still drove him crazy. “She had no idea a crazy fuck was after her.” He breathed in deeply, let it out in a heavy gust. “Sorry.”
“I saw her face, Mac,” Catherine said quietly. “Crazy fuck is the least of it.”
“Her agent hired a bodyguard. She thought he was her personal assistant. The bodyguard intercepted about three attempts on her life but was under strict instructions not to let her know. She was filmingHigh Moon over Alabamaand people were starting to talk Oscars and nobody wanted her off her game.”
Her small fist clenched and she bounced it off her knee. “That’s unforgiveable,” she said quietly.
It was a good thing the bodyguard was already dead otherwise Mac would have been tempted to have a word or two with him, of the physical variety.
“Yeah. Anyway, one night, right after the party when they finished filming—Stella told me it’s called a wrap party—she gave her housekeeper and driver the night off and went to bed around two. The coroner says that the bodyguard was killed around three am. His throat was slit. At the autopsy it turned out that the bodyguard had a point 3 blood alcohol level. He was essentially in a coma. Easy prey.”
“God,” she breathed.
“Yeah.” His jaw muscles flexed. “So the fucker had total access. Really went to town. She had almost fifty cuts. Several sliced right through her cheek. Lost a third of the blood in her body. It was only by some miracle that she kicked at him, he slipped in her blood and fell on his knife. She called 911 and they did their job. Unlike the bodyguard.”
“She disappeared after that, didn’t she?”
“Took six surgeries and a year for her to start to heal. In the meantime, the guy was jailed, then released on bail because he had money. That’s when Stella took serious steps to find a place to hide—and then at trial the fuck was judged insane and remanded to a psychiatric prison.”
“And escaped,” she added quietly. “I remember now.”
“She’d always loved cooking and she ended up as a short order cook at a greasy spoon in Montrose. Sixty miles from here. Jon loved the food there, had made friends with her.”
“Jon?” She tilted her head, a little frown between her eyebrows. “Oh. Yeah, right.” Her face cleared. “Surfer Dude.”
“Surfer Dude, yep.” Mac nodded his head. It was great hearing her say that. Jon was used to being underestimated. Underestimating him was good. He looked like one of the Beach Boys when they were young. Laid-back and charming.
Jon was one of the most deadly warriors Mac had ever met. God help the guy he targeted. He’d see some relaxed, smiling blond guy coming at him and he’d be dead before he thought to be afraid.
“Jon was with her when the news came on and the anchor said that her attacker had escaped from the psychiatric institute. She started shaking so badly she couldn’t hold anything. Her scars were barely healed. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. Jon invited her up here and she came and we can’t do without her now.”
Catherine gave a sigh. “Well, she’s clearly at home here.”
Yep. Stella was one of them. No question.
“What did you guys do for food…before?”
“Before?”
“Before Stella. Did someone cook?”
He winced just thinking about it. “There weren’t too many of us then. We’ve…grown.” Mac watched her carefully but she didn’t take him up on the opening he’d given her. A spy would have used this moment to gently probe, find out more about Haven. And even if she wasn’t a spy, most outsiders would be curious about them. Who they were. What they were.
Not Catherine. She just sat quietly and listened.
“So you all cooked?” she asked.
“Nope. Nick and I did.” His mouth turned down. “We nearly had a mutiny once. Then Stella came and everyone was happy. She saved our bacon.”
He blinked. He’d made a goddamned pun! Since when did he make puns?
It startled a laugh out of her, jostling the plate she was holding on her knees. “Oh!”
They both grabbed for it. Mac was faster and she ended up holding his wrist, fingers curled around him.
Everything stopped. No sound, no movement. It felt like his heart stopped too.
No laughter now. There was a sudden, immense hush in the room. Catherine’s smile faded and God knew he didn’t feel like smiling. Couldn’t. Something huge was happening, something completely new, some outside force taking over his body.
