Page 13 of Gage
“I’m that obvious, huh? Before Steven’s death, I’d never even seen one. Now I could probably draw the floorplan for you from memory.”
“Well, Turner’s got everything he needs, so you won’t be seeing the inside of the NOPD again. We’re going to head over to Carpenter Security and get a couple of guys assigned to protect you.”
“I really think hiring bodyguards is a bit of overkill.”
Gage lightly grabbed her arm, stopping her. “You were almost kidnapped this morning. The guy shot you.” He glared at the white bandage on her bare upper arm. “It’s not overkill, it is a logical and preemptive step in keeping you safe. Whether you like it or not, you need professional protection for your own safety. You are a wealthy woman. You were traveling alone. That makes you an ideal target for every nut job out there looking to score a large chunk of cash.”
“I want to go on the record as saying I hate this.” She blew out a short breath. “I’ve never had to worry about myself. I’ve always gone anywhere I wanted, hopped in the car and drove across Dallas-Fort Worth without having to worry about somebody trying to hurt me. Now I’m feeling vulnerable and exposed and I hate it.”
“You didn’t have a driver?”
“Sometimes.” Gage simply looked at her before shaking his head and letting go of her arm. “What?”
“I’d bet your driver was also a trained bodyguard your husband hired. He wouldn’t have wanted you unprotected.” He paused a second. “It’s what I’d have done if I was your husband.”
A tingling feeling shot through her at his words. She couldn’t imagine Gage Newsome as her husband. He was the opposite of Steven in every way. Where Steven was light, Gage was the other side of the coin. Dark and sleek, with an edge of danger. Steven had been older and though no one knew, he’d stared feeling ill recently. Gage exuded health and strength, his body toned and fit. She couldn’t help noticing his muscles beneath the dark T-shirt.
“I feel like such a fool. When Brandon said to meet you, I thought doing it some place outside of Dallas would be a good idea. I picked New Orleans because it’s far enough away I stupidly thought people wouldn’t know me, wouldn’t necessarily recognize me. You know, the whole Black Widow thing. I wanted to escape the accusations of being a murderer. I thought coming to New Orleans would be a short reprieve, an escape. I hoped…”
“You hoped what, Suzanna?”
Her gaze met his. “I hoped that just for a minute I could simply be me, in a town where there was magic. I’m not talking voodoo or vampires. No, I mean the kind of magic you find in a place where there’s history. Where people have lived and loved for hundreds of years. Where there are customs and traditions and a bit of mystery. Instead, I’m plunged right back into the center of a whirlwind, being tossed about with no control.”
Gage reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. She felt like an idiot, having revealed so much to him. Good grief, she’d only met the man last night, and here she was spilling her guts to him. What was it about Gage that she felt so—comfortable—around him?
“I get it. I’ve been all over the world with my job, and sometimes I’d be dropped into the middle of cities where every street was steeped in history. There’s a kind of comfort in knowing that hundreds, maybe thousands of people have walked the same street you’re walking. Watched the same sunset you’re watching. It makes you feel not so…alone.”
She nodded slowly, surprised and touched that he really understood. More often than not she had a hard time explaining to people her affinity with being alone. It wasn’t that she was lonely, or aloof, or standoffish. She simply wanted to feel, to connect on a deeper level. Funny how Gage got it.
They started walking again, and Gage held onto her hand as they meandered through the crowds. She didn’t try and foolherself that his holding her hand was anything more than him keeping her close to protect her. After this morning, she had to admit it was kind of nice to know somebody cared. While she hated the thought of a bodyguard watching over her, the lack of privacy it would afford, she understood the necessity. It wouldn’t be forever, only until she was able to clear her name and the threat of prison hanging over her head. Because if she couldn’t handle simply going in the police station, how was she possibly going to make it if she went to prison?
Before long, they stopped in front of a large brick building, the red bricks giving the multistory complex an old-fashioned appearance, allowing it to blend into the surrounding properties, but she could see the modern touches. A glass-front door with large windows on either side gleamed in the sunlight. Gage released her hand, and held open the door, allowing her to precede him inside.
A large yet comfortable reception area welcoming them, soft music playing in the background. A blonde woman sat behind the modern desk, a headset with microphone on her head. She held up one hand, indicating they wait, and she smiled and mouthed the word “sorry” while she listened to whoever was on the other end of the call. It didn’t take long before she finished and stood.
“Sorry about that. It’s been extra busy today. I’m Stephanie, welcome to Carpenter Security Services. How can I help you?”
“Gage Newsome and Suzanna Dawkins. Jean-Luc Boudreau is expecting us.”
Stephanie’s smile grew wider. “Of course. They’re gathered in the conference room, if you’ll follow me.”
Suzanna followed Stephanie down a hall to a large conference room on the right, where several large men were, some seated and some standing or leaning against the back wall. Jean-Luc stood at the front, a dark-haired woman plasteredagainst his side, her head resting on his shoulder. From his besotted expression, Suzanna assumed this was his wife. The one he’d mentioned had morning sickness.
“Did you get everything straightened out at the police station?” The man who asked was tall, broad-shouldered and bore a strong resemblance to Jean-Luc. She assumed he had to be one of his brothers. Gage had mentioned earlier that Jean-Luc had four brothers and a sister, all of who were associated with Carpenter Security in some way. Samuel Carpenter owned the company, and was a hands-on owner, who kept track of and was involved with every case. Probably why his company was such a success.
“Yes,” Gage answered before leading her to one of the empty chairs, and taking a seat next to hers. With this many people in the room, Suzanna felt uneasy, especially since they were all unknown, so she did what she always did when dealing with crowds, slipping into her corporate wife persona. It was a shield, a mask she wore when she felt uncomfortable. Her stepmother had taught her all about adapting to her surroundings, how to become like a chameleon, being able to talk to and blend in with those around her. Her stepmother had been an expert at showing people what they wanted to see. It had gotten her through three marriages and elaborate and expensive divorces which set her up financially in the lifestyle she craved. Though Suzanna knew it would never be enough. Janelle was a social vampire, draining the lifeblood and fortunes of those foolish enough to fall into her web.
“Mrs. Dawkins, thanks for meeting us here, it’s simpler and we have more room than meeting at your hotel. Plus it gives them time to fix the broken door.” Jean-Luc brushed a kiss against his wife’s forehead and walked her to the door. He watched her walk away before turning his attention back to the room. “These are my brothers Etienne, Sebastian and Ranger.The other two men are Gunner Everett and Stefan Carlisle, who is one of our computer experts.”
“Hello. Thank you gentleman for agreeing to work with us.” She gave a carefully controlled nod, though inside she wanted to sprint from the room. The only thing keeping her in her seat was Gage being there. Somehow he’d become her rock, her foundation, grounding her in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. Used to feeling rudderless in a raging sea, this feeling of calm she felt around him not only startled her, but intrigued her. She knew there was a wildness in him, that edge of danger below the surface, yet he didn’t frighten her. Being near him instead gave her a feeling of…peace.
“I assume Jean-Luc has filled you in on what happened this morning?” Each man nodded at Gage’s question. “Good. You’re also aware that Ms. Dawkins is one of the prime suspects in her husband’s murder. I’ve been brought onto the case to not only prove that she didn’t do it, but also to discover who did, so we can clear her name.”
“I’ve had Stefan doing so digging into what he can find online regarding Steven Dawkins death. The death certificate has classified the case as a homicide. The preliminary autopsy report is interesting. Have you seen a copy of it yet?” When Gage shook his head, Stefan passed him a printed copy. He’d barely started reading when he looked up.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Jean-Luc smirked. “I had the same reaction when I saw the report. How many times have you seen an autopsy that took less than thirty-five minutes to complete? Especially one for someone like Steven Dawkins? The police already knew from the minute they got on the scene that it was a homicide. The cause of death was pretty apparent, but there’s no way any autopsy should be done that quickly.”
