Page 224 of Mangled Memory
“Real question, why do I need a Ranger as a bouncer? Or why do we?”
“I’m not free to say, ma’am.”
“I’m one half of my marriage. I live in the same home. You left a warm bed at three this morning to shadow me in the frigid cold. Why is a Ranger my personal security?”
“You and Mr. Barone have received threats. Usually Mr. Barone and mostly in regard to his business.”
“Mostly?’
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Which means occasionally—” I let the sentence trail off.
I hoist my bag over my shoulder and lift the tripods under one arm while I reach for the blanket Eleanor has been sleeping on. When I’m upright and squarely facing my overly qualified tail, Iask the question that’s been niggling in my brain. I point to my head. “Was this an accident? Or was this more?”
“I don’t know, ma’am.”
“But if you had to guess. With all of your experience and training…”
“I can’t imagine you tripped, Mrs. Barone. Not with where your body landed.”
What the fuck.
I hold his gaze until emotion overwhelms me. “Thank you, Fitz. I appreciate your honesty.”
He does that deep nod that says more than a simpleyes.
“May I buy you breakfast?”
“Ma’am?”
“Breakfast. It’s the meal in the morning after you wake up. Usually paired with coffee.”
For the first time ever, he cracks a smile.
After breakfast, I make my way down the mountain and return Eleanor to her dad. Fitz remains in the black SUV on the street.
“What’s this idea of yours, sis?”
“What do you think of doing a fundraiser for Eleanor’s shelter? Or for a non-profit that helps rescue animals?”
“I don’t think of it at all, to be honest.”
“I have shots of our girl?—”
“My girl.”
“As I was saying, I have photos of our girl on our adventures.”
“Mine,” he mumbles under his breath.
“Lots of them.” I continue as if he hasn’t just interrupted me. “We could auction them off for charity. Or use them in a promo material to sell for proceeds. I’m guessing Lauren could manage connecting me with my website people. Maybe start a Pictagram account and use images to solicit sponsors.”
“Hold up.” He lifts a hand between us. “I’m not interested in managing a celebrity dog.”
“She won’t become too good for you, Cian. She’s not a diva. But she’s photogenic and not in the way some people claim tohave beautiful animals and lovely children when they’re average. She’s special and the camera loves her.”
“You love her.”
