Always Watching (2 page)

3:15 AM

The air held a malevolence. An . . . evil. Wade Savage hesitated as the radio station door shut behind him. The parking lot stretched before him. Goosebumps pebbled his skin, a stark contrast to the sweat beading on his forehead.

Someone was watching him.

Again.

He could
feel
the eyes on him. He stood still, frozen with indecision, as the early morning darkness pressed down on him. He tried to pull in a deep breath, but the August humidity made it hard to find the oxygen in the air. A soft light from the building spilled through the double glass doors behind him.

Wade shivered in spite of the heat, felt a rivulet of sweat slide down his temple. He swiped it away even as a fine mist broke out on the back of his neck. A mere month ago, if anyone had said anything about
feeling
the presence of evil, he would have laughed. But not now, not tonight. For a brief moment, he regretted his refusal to listen to his father's recommendation that
he hire a bodyguard. It would be nice to know he had someone watching his back right now.

His phone buzzed and he glanced down at it. Cameron Short, one of the directors on the board of the charity Wade had founded six years ago.

I know
your show is over and you're probably on your
way home. Call me. I'm up and have a
couple of questions about the charity dinner on Thursday.

Wade shook his head. It was the middle of the night for the normal person, but Cameron never seemed to sleep. Ever since his wife, Gina, had died of cancer two years ago, the man used his insomnia to further the cause of the charity he helped run.

Wade would call him when he could. Right now, he kept his focus on the area around him. The night sounds didn't comfort him. A lone car swept past the station and the taillights disappeared round the curve just ahead. He'd never really noticed before how deserted the place could be at almost 3:30 in the morning.

Tonight he noticed.

The hair on Wade's neck spiked.

The fatigue that had dogged him since leaving the charity dinner to head for the radio station lifted and his adrenaline surged.

He hesitated again and let his gaze scan the parking lot, the areas beyond, the lighted places nearby, and—especially—the dark ones. He wondered what—who—lingered in the shadows? Unfortunately, he couldn't see anything.

His Nissan Armada sat just ahead. It was a straight shot across the parking lot and sat innocently under a light, facing the six-lane road that lay just beyond the sidewalk. A mostly empty six-lane road at this time of early morning.

No one in the building behind him.

Someone in the dark in front of him?

Possibly.

He took two more steps toward his car. The sense of danger intensified. With a bit of shock, Wade realized he was truly afraid.

The building doors were locked, the alarm armed. It would take him several minutes to get back inside. His car was most likely his best bet for quick safety.

If he could make it.

While his car was only about twenty yards away, in his mind it was too far. He would be open, exposed to whoever watched. He shifted, pressed his back against the building. Then pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed 911.

A sudden pulse of anger took him by surprise. He wouldn't let whoever was out there do this to him. He started to cancel the call, then let it go through. He gripped his keys. Wade scanned the area one more time and started for the car, his long strides eating up the distance. He ignored the swift beat of his heart, the second surge of adrenaline, the lack of air in his lungs. The
fear
 . . .

“911, what's your emergency?”

Within seconds he arrived at his vehicle and inserted the key into the lock. “Yes, I'm—”

He heard the footfall at a distance behind him.

And felt the sharp prick in his lower back. He spun even while his hand went to the area where he felt the pain. He pulled out what was lodged there and looked down to see a small dart in his hand. He'd been shot with a dart?

The movement to his left caught his attention. He looked and saw the shadowy figure of the person dressed in black. Black clothes, black mask, black eyes—

Wade's legs trembled, refused to hold him. The phone and
the dart slipped from his fingers. He heard them hit the ground. Weakness invaded him and his knees landed on the asphalt next to his phone. He tried to reach for the device, but his fingers wouldn't work for him.

He thought he saw the glint of a knife blade before a blanket of black covered him up.

Olivia Edwards punched the button on her phone one more time. And one more time Madelyn McKay's voice mail picked up after the first ring. “Maddy? Where are you?” Olivia muttered. “Pick up the phone.” Maddy had texted her less than twenty minutes ago, saying she might need backup, but would be back in touch to let Olivia know for sure. Going on instinct, Olivia hadn't hesitated, she'd just gone straight to her car and headed for the station. And now Maddy wouldn't answer.

Olivia pressed the button on the Bluetooth device in her ear and hung up. Her fingers curled around the wheel as she turned into the radio station's parking lot.

Her gaze landed on someone on the ground by his car.

The figure bending over him looked up and Olivia slammed on the brakes, pulled her weapon from her shoulder holster, and threw open the driver's door. “Wade!” The masked individual raced away, crossed the street, and disappeared into the shadows beyond. Olivia pulled her cell phone from her pocket and dialed 911. She identified herself. “I need an ambulance.”

She gave the address as she moved toward the man sprawled
facedown on the asphalt. “Oh please, please, please, don't let him be dead.” She knelt and pressed her fingers against his neck. A pulse beat and she breathed a small sigh of relief. At least he was alive. “Suspect is on foot,” she said into the phone. “Crossed Hampton Boulevard, headed north.”

“Male or female.”

Olivia blinked. “I don't know. Whoever it was is dressed all in black and has on a black ski mask.” She hung up and ran her hands over Wade, looking for anything to account for his unconsciousness. When she couldn't find anything, she frowned. His breathing worried her, slow and shallow. She felt he went too long between breaths. Drugged? She hesitated to move him in case of a head injury she couldn't see. A siren screamed in the distance.

Olivia looked around. Where was Maddy? Worry for her friend and partner ate at her, but she couldn't leave Wade. She checked his pulse once again. Slow but still there. She looked up, catching sight of the blue light moving closer. Soon the red ones of the ambulance blended with the blue of the police cars as they turned into the parking lot one after the other.

Two police cruisers whipped past the station and Olivia figured they were going after the suspect. Another entered the parking lot.

She waved the EMTs over. “His name is Wade Savage. I'm not sure what happened, but I think he may have been drugged.” They took over and Olivia got on her cell phone. She needed to find Maddy. The woman would never leave her client exposed. The fact that someone got to him scared her. Not just because Wade could have been killed, but because it meant Maddy was most likely incapacitated.

Maybe even dead.

One of the EMTs looked up. “I can't find any obvious injury,
but we'll get him to the hospital and checked out. If he was drugged, no telling what it was with. Respirations are slow, pulse is slow. We'll monitor him closely to make sure he doesn't stop breathing. Other than that he just appears to be in a deep sleep.”

“Fine. I'll follow behind you.” She flashed her badge that identified her as a bodyguard.

She called Maddy's number again. Her fingers tightened with each passing ring. Finally, she hung up and dialed another number. Katie Singleton, another partner with the Elite Guardians Bodyguard Services, picked up. “Hello?”

“Have you heard from Maddy?” She didn't have to bother with small talk or pleasantries. Katie would hear and understand the urgency in her voice.

“No.” Katie's sleepy voice went on instant alert. “Why?”

“I can't get in touch with her. Wade Savage was attacked tonight and is on the way to the hospital.”

“Attacked? Where are you?” Katie asked.

“At the radio station, but I'm going to the hospital to be with him and to make sure the person who did this isn't there waiting on him to finish the job. I'll explain everything later.”

“I'm on my way to the radio station to help search for Maddy.”

“Better alert Haley too.” Haley Callaghan, the fourth member of their team. Her Irish blood would be pumping until they found Maddy.

“Will do. Check in when you get there.”

“Find Maddy, Katie, I'm really worried about her.”

“I'm on it. You stick with Savage.”

She hung up and turned to find an officer at her side.

“I'm going to need a statement from you,” he said.

“Can you follow me to the hospital?” She nodded to the ambulance. “That's my client and I'm going to need to follow him.”

“Client?”

“I'm his bodyguard.” Technically Maddy was, but since Maddy wasn't around, the job now fell to Olivia.

The officer, whose name plate read Hartman, raised a brow. “Bodyguard?”

“Yes. And I'm not leaving him alone. Especially after this incident. I'm sure you can understand that.” The officer's gaze flicked to the ambulance, then back to her. She read his thoughts and gave an impatient sigh. “This didn't happen on my watch. That starts now.” The ambulance started to pull out. “Come to the hospital if you want a statement.” Olivia raced to her car and climbed in. The ambulance took off and she followed it. She tried Maddy's number again. And still nothing. The officer followed her.

When the ambulance pulled into the Emergency slot to unload Wade, Olivia swung into a nearby “official vehicles only” spot and placed her card in the windshield. A card provided to her by the mayor that identified her as a VIP.

She raced into the lobby of the hospital and went to the triage desk. Again, she flashed her special credentials, hoping she didn't have to go into an explanation of who she was and what she did. The nurse's brow lifted, but she buzzed the door and, within seconds, Olivia was in the treatment area of the Emergency Department. She approached the desk. “I'm with Wade Savage.”

“Room 4.”

Olivia nodded and walked back to the room. She peeked into the window and saw a nurse drawing blood and another hooking up an IV line.

Wade was being taken care of. He was unconscious and couldn't answer any questions at the moment, but he was alive. Olivia breathed a sigh of relief that he was most likely going to be all right, then pulled out her phone to call Bruce Savage,
Wade's father. The one person she had no desire to break this news to. The man who'd hired her agency to keep his son safe.

Before she had the chance to hit the speed-dial number, her phone vibrated. Katie. Had she found Maddy? “Please share some good news with me.”

“We're still looking for Maddy. She and her car are both missing, so it's not looking good. I've gone ahead and called Quinn. I'm hoping he'll get things stirred up.” Quinn Holcombe, Maddy's “potential” boyfriend and a detective with the local police department.

“Good.” Olivia pinched the bridge of her nose and forced herself to process what she needed to do by priority. “I'm calling Bruce. He'll want to come by the hospital.”

“You think he'll pull us from the detail?”

“I don't know.”

“Good luck. I'll be praying about that call.”

“Not sure prayers will do much good,” Olivia grunted, “but guess they can't hurt.”

“No, they can't hurt.” Katie's soft voice conveyed her sadness over Olivia's lack of faith.

Olivia grimaced. She believed in God, she just didn't like him very much. But now wasn't the time to go into that. She hung up, thought about Maddy.

And almost wished she prayed too.

Wade tried to push the thick blanket away. Somehow he'd managed to cover his face and now it felt like he would smother. But it was heavy and his arms were tired. No, it wasn't a blanket. His eyes wouldn't open. He tried again. And again. Finally, he saw a sliver of light.

“Dr. Savage?”

He tried to speak and couldn't get past the dryness in his throat. The wave of nausea took him by surprise and he simply lay still.

“Wade? Can you wake up?”

He felt something slip between his lips. A straw? He sipped and the cool wetness slid down the back of his throat. “Yes,” he whispered. “Give me a minute.”

“He's coming back to us.”

“Where's my son?” The smooth bass voice was filled with concern. And fear?

Wade's sense sharpened. His dad? Why was he here? Where exactly was here? The fog shifted and his mind started to clear. He'd been trying to get in his car and felt the sting in his lower
back. A person with a knife? Then blackness. Or was it all a dream? He had no memory of anything from then until now.

A chill sliced through him and he struggled against the lure of the darkness once more. The smells and sounds hit him. He was in a hospital? He heard his father's voice. “Wade? Son? Wake up and tell us what happened. Who did this to you?”

He finally managed to pry his eyes open. Glanced left, then right. Yes, a hospital. “I don't know.” He licked his lips and took a deep breath. “I knew someone was there. I could feel it.”

His father frowned and exchanged a look with someone on the other side of the bed. Wade turned his head and let his eyes land on a beautiful woman. Straight blonde hair, concerned blue eyes. Smooth complexion, oval face. Beautiful. Intriguing. “Who—?”

“My name is Olivia Edwards. I . . . found you in the parking lot of the radio station.”

“Found me?” He licked his lips.

“Where was Ms. McKay?” his father asked.

“Who—” But his father wasn't talking to him. He had his laser intense gaze on Olivia's face. Wade let his eyes drift shut, then forced them back open.

“I don't know. She's still missing.”

What were they talking about? Who was missing? He tried to form the words to ask, but couldn't seem to wake up any further. He drifted, their voices still echoing in his head.

When reality intruded again, Wade forced himself to wake up. He rolled to his side and pushed his eyelids up. His gaze landed on his father seated in the one available chair, head back, light snores filling the air. Wade rubbed his eyes and sat up, the bed crinkling beneath his weight.

His father stirred. “Son?”

“Yeah.”

His dad leaned forward. “You going to stay awake this time?”

“I think so.” His head felt less clogged and foggy. He reached for the cup on the table near him and chugged back the rest of the lukewarm water. “How long was I out this time?”

“About thirty minutes.”

“What time is it?”

“Six in the morning.”

Wade's stomach growled in agreement. “I need to check on Amy.” His twelve-year-old daughter with more than just a penchant for worry. He reached for his phone and couldn't find it in its usual spot, clipped on to the side of his belt.

His dad held it up. “Amy's fine. She doesn't know anything about what happened. Martha's going to take her to school just like any other day.”

Martha, his sister-in-law and live-in nanny for Amy. Wade thought. What day was it? Oh right, Friday. “She'll wonder why I don't come down for breakfast.”

“Martha plans to tell her you had an errand to run and will see her when she gets home.”

Even though he worked until three in the morning, he was always up at six-thirty to eat breakfast with Amy before she went off to school. “I guess she'll have to be all right with that.”

“She'll be fine. It's not the first time you haven't been there for one reason or another.”

“I know, it's just that that's our time and I hate to miss it.”

“Can't be helped. Have you gotten any more packages?”

And that was that as far as his father was concerned. Deal with stuff and move on. Wade grimaced and sighed. “Yes.”

“What?”

“What does it matter?”

“Six weeks, son. This has been going on for six weeks.”

“I know, Dad. I'm aware.”

“And who knows how long she was watching you before
then? Learning your habits and—” His father blew out a hard breath and dropped his head in his hands.

Wade winced. His dad was right. At first it was just small things like a teddy bear with some of his favorite chocolate candies. He'd mistakenly thought Amy had gotten them for him for his birthday and had them delivered. But she'd claimed no knowledge. Neither had his sister-in-law. Or his father.

Next it had been a box of his favorite soap and aftershave, followed by two tickets to the concert he'd mentioned wanting to see. All things he'd talked about on his radio show.

Innocent gifts. Thoughtful gifts. Or they would be if they were from someone he knew. Coming from a stranger who obviously wanted to stay anonymous was a bit creepy. Okay, a lot creepy.

He looked into his father's frowning eyes. “This past Monday I got home from the office to find expensive matching baseball jerseys for me and Amy.”

“Jerseys?”

“Atlanta Braves jerseys.”

“Your favorite baseball team.” His dad shook his head. “This is getting too bizarre.”

“No kidding. One of my callers was worried about her marriage. I suggested doing something her husband enjoyed. She said he liked baseball so I talked a little about the Braves and how Amy and I enjoy going to the games every so often. I told her we got a lot of talking in during the drive there and even during the lulls in the game and that it was a good bonding experience. She seemed to like the idea.”

“And someone sent you jerseys.” His father seemed to have trouble wrapping his mind around it.

“Yes, but that's not the scary part.”

“What is?”

“The size was perfect. Not just mine, but Amy's too.”