Campaign of Desire (CSA Case Files 4) (7 page)

“You’ll give your schedule to Lach. He will then convey it to the guards that need to be aware of your appointments. As for your original question, he will be with you most of each day but he will see you to the safety of your home each evening. Since you live in an apartment building, your protection will remain right outside your door after your apartment is cleared upon your arrival. Depending on your next day’s itinerary, Lach will arrive before you begin your day. Your father’s detail is slightly different in that he resides at the family home, so therefore his guards will be in and around the residence.”

Lach could see the relief in Phoebe’s pink lips in the fact that she wouldn’t need to be with him twenty-four seven. It wasn’t like in the movies, but having her squirm through the last ten minutes in the uncertainty gave him a little humor in what was sure to be a long and tedious assignment.

“I supplied you with the list of volunteers and employees, but I think it would be in our interests to also have Rance and Andrews investigated as well.” Paul shrugged as if what he was suggesting was a given assumption in guilt. His suit appeared rumpled and not as crisp as Dunaway’s, giving him a harried appearance yet his attitude conveyed competence. He was in his mid-forties and grew up around politics, eventually making a name for himself in the right circles. Lach was reserving judgment on the man’s character until he had time to observe him at length. His kind was always hard to read but eventually they gave away their tell. “It’s not unheard of for the competition to pull underhanded practices. It wouldn’t surprise me if the threats are nothing more than rubbish from our rivals to drive Stan into doing the exact thing that’s been done here today—waste money on useless protection details.”

“Wasn’t it
you
who suggested the idea?” Lach asked, unable to refrain from posing the question.

“Yes, but honestly I don’t think the most expensive executive protection agency is quite what we need. Protection is protection, a gun is a gun.” Paul shrugged and Connor stiffened as Lach curled his fist into the elbow crease of his black leather jacket. Mooney’s ignorance was finally shining through and Lach resigned the campaign manager to his own useless pinhead list. “When a coward is confronted with both, they usually run away with their tails between their legs.”

“It’s pointless to go round and round with this when the decision has already been made,” Phoebe exclaimed, pursing her lips. It seemed as if Mooney’s ill-informed attitude was also annoying her. Good. “I do have a suggestion though. My father and I both agree that Mr. McKinnon is more than capable of doing his job. No offense, Mr. Ortega. I’ve personally bore witness to Mr. McKinnon’s expertise and I would rather he be assigned to Kimmie. She still has a very independent spirit and she can be a handful.”

And there it was. Lach couldn’t prevent his lips from lifting at the corner and he bore his gaze into her until she had no choice but to finally meet his stare. The determination shining in Phoebe’s eyes told him all he needed to know. She would try to finagle her way out of this any way she could but he knew for a fact that Mr. Dunaway had already made his decision. It wasn’t that one daughter was more important than the other. The fact remained that Phoebe was more of a target based on her other activities with the Crescent Heart Foundation. In the eyes of Mr. Dunaway, Lach had already proven himself. It was pointless to let doubt creep in, particularly in this scenario where he wasn’t in a van with a Bluetooth earpiece attached in his ear and trying to talk sense to a person who was in a building across the street without an ounce of sanity left. That was another lifetime ago and had no place in the here and now.

“Phoebe, the arrangements are made.” Mr. Dunaway glanced at his watch, signaling to everyone that he was done with this meeting. “Crest handpicked every one of his team members. Connor, Paul will provide you with my itinerary and I will fill in my personal meetings as well. Sweetheart, why don’t you call it a night and have Lach follow you home. He’ll introduce you to the gentleman on the night shift and the other introductions will take place tomorrow before that interview you have with that talk show,
Daytime America
. That is, after our press conference.”

Lach waited for Phoebe to argue with her father, all the while Lach’s mind spinning with the preparations he would need to ensure were taken if she were to go on live television. He made a mental note to find out where the interview would be taking place and speak with the people in charge. Those types of events tended to turn into clusterfucks if not overseen personally.

“Fine. We’ll play it your way for now, Dad.” Phoebe stood and held out her hand to Connor. “Mr. Ortega, please take good care of my father. Between you and me, he thinks he’s ten feet tall and bulletproof.”

“Don’t go telling stories, girl,” Mr. Dunaway said good-naturedly, the lines that had been running across his forehead fading away as his worries were eased. Phoebe was caving a little too easily for Lach’s comfort, but he’d go with it. He could handle anything she threw his way. This professional spin on their relationship was no different. “Paul, I still need to talk to you regarding the poll numbers from this morning.”

“My car’s parked behind the building,” Phoebe said, having walked around the other men and placed herself in front of Lach. She tilted her head and met his gaze, her displeasure evident. “I think some ground rules need to be made, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lach murmured from his position up against the window, watching her blue eyes darken like they had when they’d been in Iraq. A rush of something he refused to name ran through him, but his promise to Crest was like an immediate dam. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Phoebe made her exit, leaving an intoxicating fragrance in her wake. Lach’s gaze dropped down to the way her gray pants hugged her ass and he figured it was a good thing that he was an honorable man with vast depths of self-restraint. Any involvement with her personally right now would have only affected his judgment. He’d been there and done that before and he’d prefer that the two were separated.

“You got your hands full on that one, devil dog,” Connor muttered, coming to stand next to him as they both watched Phoebe walk through the rabbit warren of cubicles they all referred to as the bullpen. The tag Connor had called Lach made him smile. Marines had been dubbed devil dogs or
Teufel Hunden
back during World War I, when their predecessors had taken the Belleau Wood from a crack German outfit. Their war cry had sounded like the bark of a hound from hell through their gas masks, thus earning them that name. Lach knew he’d have to have that killer determination in the coming months and gave his friend a nod of agreement. “Ready?”

“Lock and cocked.”

Lach pushed himself into a standing position and let his arms drop to his side. He took a moment to shake hands with Mr. Dunaway and then proceeded to follow the objective of his Personal Security Detachment, also known as PSD. He wasn’t relishing the upcoming conversation, but it would most certainly take place and guidelines would be drawn. He’d always liked when things went according to plan.

Chapter Six

P
hoebe heard Lach close and deadbolt the metal clad security door behind them as they stepped into her warm apartment. The light scent of salted caramel greeted her from the unlit candles sitting in their crystal sconces in the foyer as she unbuttoned her long beige dress coat. She glanced into the living room as she placed her Gucci purse on the Eloquence Avignon drapery table. She noticed that the long outer drapes were open to reveal the golden-lit city of Minneapolis through the thin veil of gossamer sheers framed by the silk panels and textured matching burgundy valances. She let the heavy material of her woolen coat fall from her shoulders and hung it on an antique wooden coat rack with brass fittings that she’d purchased in Stillwater. All of these minute details that she was processing did nothing to still her heart at having Lach inside her personal space.

“John seems like a nice man,” Phoebe said, knowing the guard outside her door was a safe topic for now. She turned back to face Lach and was proud of herself for breaking the ice. Unfortunately, he wasn’t where he’d been three seconds prior. She caught sight of his form walking through the kitchen to her left. Exasperation flowed through her at his erratic behavior. For a moment, it seemed as if he’d blended in with the black cabinets, as his leather jacket seemed to camouflage his large shoulders. It was almost laughable. Her father had dubbed him correctly as a Titan. “Lach? John said he’d already swept the rooms.”

“I’ll be right back. I need to know the layout for myself.”

Phoebe rolled her eyes as she watched him go through her apartment, including the master and guest suite off to the left on the opposite side of the kitchen. It was obvious he was doing some sort of search and though she wanted to tell him how ridiculous it was, she had a feeling it would only piss him off. That wasn’t what she was going for at this precise moment, so she held her tongue and went to the custom designed wine bar located under the long granite island and pulled out one of her favorite red wines, a 2010 Domaine Gayda Freestyle Rouge.

Glancing over the countertop and into her living room, Phoebe wondered what he thought of her décor. The earth tones of the furniture were set off by yellows and reds, along with the abstract art she’d personally collected from far flung places over the years during her travels. It was silly, she presumed, but a part of her wanted Lach to be impressed. This apartment wasn’t paid for by money from her trust fund, though her tastes ran a bit on the ostentatious side. They were treasures she’d earned. She’d worked hard for every dollar she’d made at running her mother’s foundation and the volunteer time she put into the missions were her being able to give back, along with keeping Annabelle Dunaway’s memory alive.

Phoebe could hear voices in the hallway, and before she’d reached for her Code-38 wine knife two things happened at once. Lach came back from the bedrooms with his weapon drawn and the front door burst open, revealing Kimmie having words with the man who’d followed her out of the building earlier that day. Chaos seemed to arrive as her younger sister’s guest.

“If you think I’m going to knock on my sister’s door, think again, rent-a-cop.” Kimmie tossed her tote near the table in the front entryway and then continued walking until she was at the glass front Sub-Zero refrigerator, pulling the door open for her favorite Lacroix carbonated water. “Phoebe, tell him. Especially since when we’ve had security before this was never an issue.”

“Then they were fuck-ups and more than likely would get you killed.”

“Ethan,” Lach said, holstering his weapon as he came to a stop on the other side on the island, “Phoebe.”

Phoebe refrained from saying something sarcastic at Lach’s abrupt introduction and held out her arm in greeting. The boy-next-door type of man firmly shook her hand, although his frustration with her sister was evident. He wasn’t alone, but that didn’t mean this tiny subject matter couldn’t be smoothed away. She smiled and tilted her head.

“It’s a pleasure, Ethan. I’m sure you’re very good at your job, but there are certain things that must remain the same if my sister and I are to retain any sense of normalcy.” Phoebe quickly glanced over at Kimmie, wondering what she was even doing here to begin with. She should have been at her evening class. When a warm sensation ran up Phoebe’s back, she knew Lach’s heated gaze was locked onto her. This wasn’t how she’d wanted the evening to go either, but maybe it was for the best. She’d yet to clearly think through the rules she wanted in place if Lach were going to continue watching over her. “You need to understand that my father’s decision to hire CSA came as a bit of a surprise to us. It’s going to take some getting used to.”

“And you need to understand that we are here to keep you alive,” Lach interjected, causing her to turn slightly so that both men were in her vision. His arms were crossed in his usual fashion and his dark eyes signaled his resolve. “As does your impetuous sister.”