Always (The Protectors Book 3) Page 11

  “What does it say?” Mallory asked.

  John looked up from his computer. “We’re in. I need to call someone from my team.”

  While John was talking on his phone, Mallory stood beside Grant.

  She scanned the document John had opened. “What is it?”

  “It’s the financial records of a multi-million dollar transaction.”

  “Are there other folders?”

  “No other folders, but there are a lot of different files inside this one.”

  Mallory frowned. “Simon handled a lot of high-profile building investments. This one must have been different.”

  Grant didn’t need to say what he was thinking—he could see the same fear on her face.

  Simon might have been involved in other multi-million dollar deals, but none of them had gotten him killed—until he’d worked on this one.

  CHAPTER NINE

  On Monday evening, Mallory walked carefully up the porch steps to Tess’ home. The weather had taken a turn for the worse and a fresh layer of snow and ice covered everything in sight.

  Before she went inside, she turned and waved at Tank, the bodyguard John had sent to bring her home.

  Grant had spent most of the weekend with her, tidying her house and cleaning fingerprint dust off the doors, window frames, and furniture. While they were putting everything back where it belonged, he tried to convince her to take some time off work. He didn’t think it was safe and neither did John.

  Having someone drive her to and from work was the compromise they’d agreed to, but it hadn’t been easy getting him to agree to anything.

  Grant wanted her to stay on his ranch. She wasn’t leaving Bozeman. Hiding in rural Montana didn’t seem practical or safe.

  When she opened the front door, she nearly collided with Tess.

  “Oops,” Tess said with a smile. “How was your day?”

  Mallory grabbed the box in her friend’s arms to stop it from falling. “Eventful. Tank turned quite a few heads at the clinic.”

  “I bet he did. Have you got anything planned for the next hour?”

  “Not really. I was going to cook dinner, then put my feet up.”

  “I’ve made a casserole and it’s cooking as we speak. How would you feel about helping me unpack a few boxes of dresses for The Bridesmaids Club?”

  Mallory closed the door. “Sounds like fun. I’m a sucker for a sparkly dress.”

  “I never would have guessed. Nearly every costume you wore on the ice had more glitter than fabric.”

  “That’s what I wanted you to think. But underneath all the sparkles was a very demure bodysuit.”

  Tess walked down the hallway. “I’m going to say one word—Nationals.”

  Mallory opened the garage door. “That was one of my favorites. The silver chiffon glowed under the lights. It was a dress fit for a princess.”

  “Or a world-class figure skater who wanted to beat the pants off her competition. You were stunning.”

  She sucked her tummy in a little tighter. “I’ve gained a couple of pounds since then.”

  Tess rolled her eyes. “Oh no, how catastrophic! You’re two pounds heavier.”

  Mallory raced upstairs and held open the loft door for Tess. “Scoff all you like. But when your jeans feel like they’ve shrunk in the wash, you know you’re in trouble.”

  Tess grinned. “Buy new jeans.”

  “It’s demoralizing.”

  “It’s called life, and this…” Tess nodded at the racks of dresses filling the loft, “…is called The Bridesmaids Club.”

  Mallory had been into the loft a few times, and each visit was more special than the last. Women from all over the country donated pre-loved bridesmaids dresses to The Bridesmaids Club. Tess’ friends added the gowns to an online catalog, placed them in a rack with similar dresses, and waited for brides and bridesmaids to contact them.

  Tess slid the box she was holding onto the counter beside two others. “These arrived today. Let’s open them and see what we’ve got.”

  Mallory smiled at the first dress Tess pulled out. “That’s cute.” The aqua blue silk had a softly draping, floor-length skirt, with puff sleeves and a sweetheart neckline.

  Tess reached into the box again. “This is great. There are four bridesmaids’ dresses that are exactly the same, but in different sizes.”

  “I thought you would have been given lots of sets of dresses.”

  “Not as many as you might think. To get four—that’s unusual.”

  After they’d unpacked two of the boxes, Tess took a small steaming machine out of a cupboard. “We won’t be able to photograph the dresses until later in the week. How would you feel about being our model?”

  Mallory picked up a pale peach gown. It had a big floaty skirt—the kind that belonged in fairy tales. “I’d love to, but I don’t want my face in the photo. After everything that’s happened, it might make things worse.”

  “We can arrange that. How are you feeling after the burglary?”

  “Worried. Grant and I cleaned up the mess, but it’s not the same. My home doesn’t feel safe.”

  “Once this is over, you’ll feel better. But you don’t need to worry about that for now. You can stay here for as long as you like.”

  “Thank you.” Mallory left the peach gown in the pile they’d put aside for the Cinderella collection and picked up the next dress. “A forensic accountant is reviewing the folder that was on Simon’s cloud storage account. We should know what it all means soon.”

  “It must be important.”

  Mallory nodded. If Simon’s death wasn’t an accident, it had to be important. “If I’d remembered what he’d said earlier, it might have changed everything that’s happened.”

  “You mean about your skating?”

  She nodded. “I keep comparing the life I’ve got now against the life I dreamed about. I didn’t think I’d be skating competitively for the rest of my life, but I didn’t think my career would end the way it did.”

  “You don’t have to be a physical therapist in Bozeman for the rest of your life. With your medical background, you’d be the perfect coach for high-performance skaters.”

  “That’s what Andrew told me.”

  Tess pulled a face. “I hate having something in common with that man. Have you heard from him since you told him you didn’t want to see him again?”

  Mallory hung a dress on a hanger and added it to the dresses waiting to be photographed. “He called me at work today.”

  Tess’ mouth dropped open. “Did you tell Grant or John?”

  “No. They’d just worry.”

  “You should tell them. From the moment I first met Andrew, I’ve never trusted him. If anyone has got an ulterior motive, it’s him. The man gives me goose bumps—and not in a good way.”

  “He only wanted to tell me about a coaching job at the Los Angeles Skating Club. It’s one of the most successful clubs in America.”

  “Why does he want you to leave Bozeman?”

  “I don’t think it’s Bozeman in particular that he wants me to leave. He thinks I’m wasting my time. I love living here, but I also miss being part of the skating world. Andrew’s right in one way—I have a lot of experience I could share with other skaters.”

  Tess put down the steamer. “Are you thinking of applying for the position?”

  “I don’t know. I joined the Professional Skaters Association when I first came here and I’ve completed most of their training workshops. The position in Los Angeles would give me a chance to learn from their senior coaches.”

  “Have you told Grant you’re thinking about applying for the job?”

  “No.” Mallory sighed. “You don’t need to look at me as if I’m insane—I already know I am. He’s one of the reasons I don’t want to leave Bozeman. Why did I have to meet him now? My life has turned into one disaster after another.”

  Tess hung a dress on the hook behind her. “You had no control over any of that, but you can c
reate the future you’ve always wanted.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “It might be easier than you think. Rachel said she’s never seen Grant smile so much since he met you.”

  Mallory pulled another dress out of a box. “Maybe he needed something to focus on other than his ranch—and I don’t mean me. Finding out what the numbers behind the photo mean has been consuming all our lives.”

  “Grant doesn’t seem to mind.”

  “But I do. He spends half his life in his truck, commuting between his ranch and town.”

  “He wouldn’t do that unless he cared about you.” Tess tilted her head sideways. “Have you dated anyone since Simon died?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe it’s time you started. After this is over, ask Grant on a date. See if there’s still a spark of chemistry between the two of you.”

  “I won’t be able to do that if I move to Los Angeles.”

  “True. That’s why you need to think about what you’ll be gaining and what you’ll be giving up before making any decisions. Can you pass me the container of water behind you? I need to refill the steamer.”

  Mallory passed Tess the water. “I hope you know how much I love you. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here.”

  “I love you, too. And it works both ways. Just think how boring my life would be if you weren’t in it.”

  “We don’t need any more excitement,” Mallory said as she held up another dress. “Why would someone put a figure skating dress in here?”

  The thigh-high, dark purple dress had a sheer chiffon skirt and a beautiful pattern of rhinestones across the bodice. It was simple, classic, and would look incredible under the lights of an ice rink.

  “It’s time you showed Bozeman how lucky we are to have you. I entered you in the Winter Festival figure skating program.”

  Mallory’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t do that.”

  “I can, and I did. I’ve seen you practicing. You’re amazing.”

  “The only time I can practice is at five-thirty in the morning. How did you know I was there?”

  Tess grinned. “Nothing stays a secret for long in Bozeman. You were born to be on the ice.”

  “I can’t be in the festival. Grant wouldn’t speak to me again. He won’t even let me leave work without a bodyguard.”

  “Don’t worry about Grant. I’ll stand beside the entrance to the rink. He’ll have to carry both of us off the ice if he doesn’t want you to skate.”

  “But the program—”

  “Don’t worry about that. I made sure the festival coordinators added an extra ten minutes to your students’ performance. I’ll be the only person who knows you’ll be skating.”

  Mallory bit her bottom lip. She had at least three programs that would work. They included a lot of spins and jumps, but she’d kept in shape, practiced each routine so many times that she could do them in her sleep.

  Excitement bubbled inside her. She could skate in the festival, stop living in fear of the people who’d killed Simon and start living her future.

  Mallory nodded.

  “You’ll do it?”

  “This might be the craziest thing I’ve ever done, but, yes, I’ll do it.”

  Tess threw her arms in the air and ran toward her. “This will be amazing! You’re going to dazzle everyone so much they’ll never want you to leave.”

  Mallory returned Tess’ hug. “I’ll settle for not falling over.” And she’d also settle for Grant never finding out. But that wouldn’t happen—unless he didn’t come to the Winter Festival.

  ***

  Grant turned a page in the book he’d found on his brother’s bookshelf. It was Monday night and coming to Emerald Lake for dinner had been exactly what he needed.

  He kept thinking about Mallory, wondering how she was, what she was doing, and more importantly, if anyone was following her.

  “What are you reading?” John asked from the living room doorway.

  He held the book in the air.

  “I was only kidding when I said you needed some pointers.”

  “I left this copy here for a reason. The Dummies Guide to Finding the Perfect Woman has some good ideas. I didn’t want to jinx its success by not following its instructions.”

  John walked into the room and sat on the sofa. “What instructions?”

  Grant ran his finger down the page. “Bullet point ten states that every woman loves to be given sentimental gifts. You can’t get more instructional than that. Chocolates and flowers are old school. Saving a leaf from your first walk in the woods is the new ‘must have’ relationship strategy.”

  “I don’t like your chances of attracting anyone except a bear with that strategy.”

  “Times change.”

  “Not that much. If you tried walking in the woods at the moment, you’d die from hypothermia.”

  “Where has the romance gone from your life? I bet Rachel would enjoy seeing a reminder of your dating life.”

  John smiled. “I could give her an empty pizza box from Antonio’s.”

  “You need this book more than I do.”

  “Dream on, big brother. While we’re talking about women, how’s Mallory?”

  Grant closed the book. “Not about to walk in the woods or go to a restaurant with me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “I thought you were spending a lot of time with her?”

  “I am, but they’re not dates. We share table space at restaurants, eat dessert together, and keep her safe from potential killers. We’re not calling any of those things dates.”

  “What heading in the book does that come under?”

  Grant narrowed his eyes. “It’s called taking things slowly.”

  “A snail moves faster than you do.”

  “That may be true, but a snail doesn’t have someone looking for them.”

  John tapped his fingers against the arm of the sofa. “What happened on Saturday was supposed to scare her.”

  Grant left the book on the coffee table. “I agree. If they really wanted to hurt her they would have done something by now. Has the forensic accountant finished her investigation?”

  “She’s coming up with some impressive theories and is collating the data at the moment. I’ll have more information for you and Mallory by Wednesday night.”

  “Do you want to meet in your office or at Emerald Lake?”

  John smiled. “Why don’t you come here? I’ll ask Tank to bring Mallory here after skating practice and take her home after we’ve finished. You could both stay for dinner and call it another almost date.”

  “Very funny.”

  Bella ran through the living room doors wearing bright red pajamas. “It’s time for a nighttime story, Uncle Grant.”

  “I thought you might have forgotten.”

  “I never forget.”

  John smiled and gave his daughter a hug. “Sweet dreams. I left The Land of Stories on top of your bookcase.”

  “I found it.” She walked across to Grant and held onto his hands. “Come on. We’re up to chapter four.”

  “What’s your book about?”

  Bella pursed her lips. “Well…Alex and Connor are brothers. They’ve become part of a fairy tale book that their grandma gave them. They have to find the ingredients for a wishing spell to get home.”

  “Sounds exciting.”

  “It is. You’re going to love it.”

  Grant didn’t know if he would love the story, but he loved Bella. “We’d better move fast in case Alex and Connor leave us behind.” He smiled at his brother. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Bella walked beside him, telling him what had happened in her book.

  He listened intently, blocking everything else out of his mind. This was his special time with his niece. He wasn’t about to waste it thinking about police investigations and hidden files. Later tonight would be soon enough for that.

  ***

  Two days later, Mallory walked into
the foyer of Fletcher Security with Tank. They were supposed to have met Grant and John at Emerald Lake, but Grant had been away for most of the afternoon on a search and rescue call out. No one knew how long he would be away, so John had asked her to come into his office.

  Tank pushed the button to bring the elevator to the ground floor.

  When it arrived, she walked inside and leaned against the steel wall. She took a deep breath and tried not to worry, but it wasn’t easy. For three days she’d gone to work, waiting for something to happen.

  Tank had been amazing. His calm, no-nonsense approach to life was what she needed. He’d even told her a joke this morning.

  She wondered why he’d become a bodyguard. “How long have you worked for Fletcher Security, Tank?”

  “About seven years. I came here after I left the military.”

  “Do you like your job?”

  “It’s interesting. I used to travel out of the country quite a lot, but that’s changed. I prefer staying close to home.”

  “Why did you become a bodyguard?”

  Tank shrugged. “I’m good at helping people and I have the skills John needed.”

  Mallory bit her bottom lip. John had said she didn’t have to pay him anything for his company’s help, but she felt really uneasy about accepting his generosity. His staff was working hard to get to the bottom of what was happening, and that work would be expensive.

  “Can I ask you a personal question, Tank?”

  His calm facial expression didn’t flicker. “It depends on what it is.”

  She held the box in her hands a little tighter. “I feel really uncomfortable about letting John pay for all the work you’re doing. How much would you usually get paid to escort someone to and from work?”

  “It depends on where it is and who they are.”

  “What about for me?”

  Tank’s lips twitched. “A chocolate fudge cake with lemon frosting would be enough.”

  “John has talked to you.”

  “He warned me you might ask that question. Chocolate cake is my favorite.” He looked at the box.

  “This is carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. I could make you a chocolate cake tonight?”