Page 4 of Guarding Grace
Elliot Boyle, Grace’s loser cousin, had called to ask me this question a half hour ago.
It paid to read between the lines in this career, and my assessment had been that he needed Grace’s help for something. This was not the first time.
When I’d told him she was in the same room as I was—at an awards function—he’d promptly hung up, like the little snot he was.
I’d motioned for Grace to come over and talk, but she’d only stuck her tongue out in response. Since I had no tolerance tonight for any more of her snarky attitude, I’d texted her from across the room, asking for a moment of her time. I’d been polite about it.
She hadn’t responded in kind, and that had ended my need to follow up on Elliot’s call. He could damned well call her himself.
Sure, she looked good from a distance—bright-red hair and curves for miles, with pale-blue eyes that pulled you in if you got close. I had to admit, she was a total smokeshow. Problem was, whenever I got close enough to talk to her, she was about as cuddly as a porcupine.
Her prickly attitude helped keep my mind off those curves. After all, I’d promised my best friend, her brother Pete, I’d take care of her. She’d be perfect for some guy, so long as that guy wasn’t me. Our code didn’t allow that.
Nope, not going there.
I opened my phone and read the message again—the one that had led to a very odd phone call before this party.
CAROL HAWK: Please call me. I need to talk to you privately.
Why the hell did my boss’s mother want to talk to me? No, the message saidneedto talk to me, which only made it weirder.
I’d squeezed in the return phone call shortly before this dinner, and it had been a strange exchange. All she’d said was,“Perhaps later, dear. I’mtied up at the moment.”She had never referred to me asdearbefore. Something was up, and it required secrecy.
Scanning the room again, I found Carol standing with my boss, Lucas, and her husband, the family patriarch, Henry Hawk.
I tried to catch her eye, but she pretended she hadn’t seen me. Message received:not here, not now. My curiosity would have to wait.
Glancing to the side, I noticed there were still a few unclaimed pieces of chocolate cheesecake on the dessert tray near me. One large piece in particular called my name. So, being the concerned citizen that I was, I quickly liberated that piece from the table in order to minimize the garbage footprint of this party.
“I saw that,” Winston said as he cruised up and snagged one as well. “Good idea. These shouldn’t go to waste.”
We munched a moment, but then Winston wandered away when a striking blonde caught his eye. Janice, who’d given up on me, was currently latched onto Zane.
The evening had been excellent, as these things went, with good food and a comfortable setting. When I’d been with LAPD SWAT, awards had usually been given out while we sat on folding chairs in the sun, roasting in our dress uniforms and listening to some self-important politician drone on for an hour about nothing of any interest to us cops.
Tonight was much better, but our real reward was knowing we’d saved our buddy’s girl, Serena, from the certainty of being sex trafficked by those Spinelli asswipes. The world was safer now that both Spinelli brothers were locked away in San Quentin.
My phone rang again with Elliot’s name on the screen. “What, Elliot?” I answered.
“You gotta watch out for Grace,” he said. “You gotta protect her. She’s in a shit ton of trouble.”
I scanned the room for Grace but came up empty. “What’s going on?”
“Man, they’re after her. These guys don’t fuckin’ mess around.”
“Slow down, Elliot. Who?”
“I don’t suck until you pay up,” a woman said in the background.
“Keep her safe,” Elliot said.
“Who’s after her?”
“No money, no action,” the annoyed woman said.
“Fuck, I gotta go.”
“Shit, Elliot, tell me who’s after her.”
