Accidental Bodyguard Read Free Page B

lottery.”
    Jack forced a smile. “Yes, ma’am.” Damn, but Santaluce was one cheap sugar daddy. You’d think he’d want her driving a flashier vehicle onto his ritzy winter home.
    The huge maintenance pickup truck approached, and Ms. Clark slid behind the wheel of her car. Jack retrieved jumper cables from the truck and hooked its battery to the clunker’s.
    â€œGive it a try,” he yelled over the truck’s powerful engine.
    The old car shook and rumbled to life. Jack let its battery run off the truck’s for a minute or two to allow a better charge, then disconnected the cables, handed them to the maintenance man and returned to speak to Ms. Clark.
    â€œThank you,” she said meaningfully. “Thank you so much.”
    â€œNo problem, ma’am. I recommend you get that battery checked out. It’s possible you need a new one.”
    â€œBut now that I’m here, I won’t need my car,” she said.
    â€œI suppose not.” Jack nodded, but her words made no sense. Was the woman planning to never leave Collins Island? Considering the amount of food in her backseat—and no telling how much more in her trunk—maybe so.
    Maybe Santaluce planned to keep her in the bedroom. Or maybe he’d had lured her here with promises of a shiny silver Porsche.
    â€œFollow me,” Jack said, “I’ll lead you to your new home.”
    On the short drive to the east end of the island, Jack considered Louise Clark, her rattletrap vehicle—which fortunately kept chugging along behind him—her mounds of groceries and the questionable business of one Rodolfo Santaluce.
    The more Jack thought about Ms. Clark, the more his bullshit alarm sounded loud and clear. Something didn’t add up. Maybe Lola had assessed the relationship between Santaluce and Ms. Clark all wrong. Maybe the pretty young woman was indeed a paying tenant.
    Jack stopped in front of Santaluce’s tall, arched, wrought-iron gate topped with the name, Villa Alma, in block letters, and Ms. Clark pulled next to him. Why would she drive that battered jalopy if she could afford the rent this spectacular villa would command? She wouldn’t. Yeah, she was moving in to the pool house, but he’d seen the so-called cabanas in these villas. A small family would have room to spare.
    Clutching a slip of paper, Ms. Clark exited her car, punched a code into the alarm pad and the gate swung open. She turned and offered him another one of her brilliant smiles.
    â€œThanks so much for your help, Mr. Richards.”
    â€œLet me help you carry in those groceries,” he offered.
    Her smile faded, replaced by wariness. In fact, she looked afraid of him. Why was that?
    â€œNo, thanks,” she said. “I can manage.”
    â€œAre you sure? I don’t mind.”
    â€œAbsolutely. I’ve been enough trouble already.” She waved a graceful hand, the one holding the code, which had been scribbled on some sort of preprinted memo pad with a letterhead. He could make out the word Hospital in large letters, but nothing more.
    â€œI’m certain you have more important duties,” she continued.
    Jack shrugged, disappointed. Important duties? This place practically runs itself.
    His main function was to assess all possible security threats. Was Ms. Clark a threat to the security of Collins Island? Maybe. Something was off about her.
    He definitely needed to learn more.
    She looked at him with raised eyebrows, obviously expecting—no, wanting—him to drive away.
    He didn’t want to go, but waved and motored west into the sinking sun, back toward the security office.
    Lola had been right on about one thing. His day had been boring as plain white toast before Ms. Clark’s arrival, but now things were getting interesting. He had a project.
    Of course, he should keep a watchful eye on Collins Island’s newest resident—which shouldn’t be too hard since