Love's Protector: A Maverick's Shield Novel (5 page)

“No offense sweetheart, you’re very lovely but I’m more into women of an old school nature,” Alex said after chugging the last swallow of his drink.

“Really?” Amour asked. She’d already started to get the feeling that Alex was going to remind her of her father.

Alex chugged the last of his beer. “The woman I marry is going to be a housewife, home with the kids and with me. You know?
Where she
belongs.
”

Mack shook his head at Alex and then held up his index finger. “She even knew the make and model of my car and what kind of engine it had. Now
that’s
hot.”

“What’s wrong with your father?” Chandra said, evidently irritated by the all the attention being placed on Amour and the lack of it on her.

“He’s ill. I promised him I would take care of this as soon as possible so I could get home to him.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Chandra said, but Amour could tell it was insincere.

“Speaking of which, it’s getting late and I should be heading home. I can take a cab if you guys still want to hang out.”

Mack shook his head. “Hey, I said no cabs were necessary didn’t I? We brought you here, so we’ll take you home. I’ll drop you and Jason off at his place since
it’s closest to where you are then he can take you home and I can save the gas.”

Chandra stood up and said, “Yeah, great idea, we should head out. I have another early shift tomorrow and I need to get some sleep.”

“Jason, will that be ok?” Amour asked hesitantly.

He looked up at her briefly and then glanced away.
“Sure, no problem.”

“Great. Let’s get out of here,” Mack said while standing up.

“It was very nice meeting you guys,” Amour said while hugging Alex and Jax.

The six of them said their goodbyes and parted ways.

Why did Mack volunteer him for this? He knew this woman clearly made him uncomfortable. He was going to kill Mack when he got a chance to talk to him alone. Well, he was here with her now so he might as well try to get through it without saying something stupid or revealing the fact that he was horny as a toad. Maybe she won’t say anything. They were almost to her hotel; if he kept quiet, maybe she would as well.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” she asked softly.

Fuck
. She wasn’t even looking at him when she asked the question, but it still made him uneasy. “Why?”

She stared up at him. “It just seems as if I do. Is it that you’re uncomfortable around me or is it just women in general?”

He frowned. “I have no problem being around women.”

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to imply anything. I just wanted you to know that if you are uncomfortable you don’t have to be because I’m not that intimidating.”

“I’m not intimidated by any woman.” Indeed he wasn’t but this particular one just had his hormones raging and it wasn’t just because she was hot, even though that’s what he’d told himself; he didn’t know why exactly.

“Good.” She stared back out the window.

He had to change the subject. This was not a conversation he wanted to have with her. “So what made you get into racing?”

“I’ve always had a thing for cars and everything that had to do with them so I decided to make it my career.”

“When did you first start?”

“When I was eleven.
I raced go karts back then.”

“That must’ve been fun. Did you win any races then?”

“Yeah, for the first four years but then I lost two out of the last three I competed in.”

“But that’s still a good record,” he said.

“I thought so.” She let out a yawn. “Well anyway, after that I went to Nebraska State and got my degree in automobile maintenance.” 

“I take it that’s what brought on your fascination with what’s
inside
of cars?”

“Yeah, I also worked during my summers off at Miami Motor Speedway as one of the lead mechanic’s assistants. That’s where I met my driving coach. He taught me everything I know about racing.”

“It couldn’t have been easy getting into that field as a woman.”

“No it wasn’t. Most team owners didn’t care for women drivers on their teams back then; some still don’t. Whenever I tried out for one, I would race circles around the other male drivers but they would still get picked over me.”

“How did you finally get accepted?” he asked.

“Just a lot of hard work and dedication.
I practiced a lot and after an awful lot of convincing, I got a few local businesses to sponsor me. My team owner decided to finally give me a chance when he’d realized that I was an asset and was serious about racing.”

“I bet your father is very proud.”

She laughed. “In a sense, but he would rather I not race for a living. But I’ve always been obsessed with cars and he knew that.”

“Did you ever fix his car for him?

Sometimes if it was minor. I don’t think he entirely trusted me under the hood at that point.”

“Why not?”

“It was probably because when I was about fourteen a friend and I took the motor out
his
dad’s car and completely dismantled it. He was so pissed at us because it cost him so much money to get it rebuilt.”

Jason smiled. “Did you get in trouble?”

“Oh yeah, my dad was so mad he grounded me for three months.”

“I bet he was. I wouldn’t imagine it would be that easy raising a teenage girl.” He chuckled. “What did he do, ground you and then left the rest up to your mom?”

She hesitated before answering. “My mother wasn’t around.”

“She bailed out on you?”

“No, she died when I was three.”

Her once cheerful mood seemed to have vanished. Perhaps her mother was not a subject she liked to talk about, and he could definitely relate. He didn’t want to put her in a bad mood so he decided to change the subject all together but she spoke before he could get a word out.

“That’s actually why I’m here in Los Angeles.”

“Because of your mother?”

“My father told me she died from a heart attack due to a heart condition she must have been born with but she never once mentioned this to him and he was with her for years.”

“Okay,” he said raising an eyebrow.

“Then all of a sudden at twenty-three years old she drops dead from this illness just like that. Something just doesn’t seem right about it. My father thinks she could’ve possibly been murdered and I’m not so sure I disagree with him.”

“Is that why you were at the station? Your family was here then?”

She stared out the window as they drove down Santa Monica Boulevard. “Yes, but after she died, my father moved us to Nebraska.”

“Well that doesn’t seem like a good reason to think someone murdered her. People up and die from strange things all the time. Perhaps she was keeping that part of her life from him because she didn’t want him to worry. Either that, or maybe there’s something your father knows but is not telling you.”

She took in a short breath. “Maybe. It took him twenty-seven years to tell me about this, so who knows? All I do know is that I won’t be able to rest until I know for sure.”

This seemed so important to her and he did have the resources and the time in which to help her. Maybe Mack was right; maybe he
did
need the company of someone other than the three men he worked with even if this
was
much like work. They all had lives other than their own circle, why couldn’t he? He couldn’t foresee this causing her anything but frustration and heartache in the end but the least he could do was help her out; he wasn’t doing anything else.

“What happened to your father by the way? Earlier you said he was ill.”

She hesitated again before responding. “He’s got ALS.”

“ALS?”

“Lou Gehrig’s disease.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Although he had never heard it called ALS before, he knew exactly what it was. Hearing about it now brought back the memory of a former guard who worked with him at Maverick’s that struggled with the disease. He remembered how weak and feeble his body was when he’d passed away four years ago. He felt bad for her.

“Thanks,” she said softly.

When she looked up at him, he could see that the sparkle that was once in her blue eyes had gone. He reached across and touched her hand linking their fingers together. He could feel her warmth and also her fear and uncertainty. “I’ll be happy to help you out if you still need me to.”

“I’d really appreciate that.”

He took his hand away because touching her made him too fidgety. When they arrived at the hotel, he pulled up at the curb in front of the entrance and then reached in his back pocket, pulled out his wallet and handed her a business card that he’d slid out of it. “This has my cell on it. Call me tomorrow and we’ll meet up and decide what to do next.”

He started to step out of the car to go around and open the door for her but she stopped him. “That’s okay, I’ve got it.”

“Alright.”
It was obvious this woman was not used to chivalry.

“Thanks for the ride home and for helping me.” She surprised him by leaning across the middle console and planting a kiss on his cheek.

The soft kiss sent yet another volt of electricity though his body. He had to part with this woman, now. “Sure, anytime. Goodbye.” He could barely get the words out as she stepped out of the car and he watched her disappear inside the lobby of the hotel.
Crap! How
was he going to work with this woman when she had this affect on him? The touch of her, the smell of her, hell the very thought of her made every muscle in his body stiff and rigid. How was he going to maintain his professionalism with her when all he could think about was taking her to bed? This was going to be hard and apparently so was
he
. She trusted him to help her and be proficient and not act like a horny teenager. He had to figure out a way to shut his libido down if he wanted get through this and keep his sanity.

Yet another terrible migraine prevented Jason from a full night’s sleep. The hot spray of the shower seemed to help ease some of the pain enough for him to function though. The loud ringing of his cell broke through the shower noise but whoever it was had hung up before he had a chance to get to it. It was probably just one of the guys anyway; he’ll call back when he’s finished getting ready for his day. After donning a t-shirt, jeans and tennis shoes, he ran a brush through his damp hair then reached for his cell beside him. No message, just a couple of missed calls. He spotted a number with a 402 area code that he didn’t recognize. Who on earth was that? Probably a bill collector. He tapped the number on the screen and dialed it back.

After a few rings, a soft female voice sounded on the other end. “Hello?”

“Hi, this is Jason Kincaid.”

“Hey, it’s Amour.”

“Good morning,” he said with a smile. He was happy to hear her voice.

“Good morning. Were you busy?”

“No, I was in the shower when you called earlier.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I was wondering if maybe we can meet for breakfast to discuss our strategy. That is, if you still don’t mind helping me.”

“No of course not, that’s fine.”

“Great! There’s a restaurant in this hotel, we can meet up there.”

“Alright, I’m on my way.”

* * *

The Tropic Coast Restaurant inside the hotel was a small but classy establishment. The hard wood floor, white table cloths, large backed white chairs and gold candles flickering on each table made the place rather cozy. Amour sat towards the back of the place at a quaint table that had a spectacular view of the ocean out of one of the large picture glass windows that surrounded the place. He took a few moments to admire her. This time she had on form fitting faded blue jeans and a white tank that hugged her upper body perfectly. Because of her lack of make-up and jewelry, her beauty was understated but clearly there. He slowly approached her and casually called her name.

She looked up from the paperwork she was staring at. “Hey!” She gestured for him to sit in the empty seat across from her.

“Did you order yet?” he asked.

“No. I was waiting for you.”

The waiter immediately came over to their table, introduced himself and asked for their orders. During breakfast Amour quickly brought Jason up to speed on the internet research she had found on her mother’s death and what happened at the police station. Jason wasn’t sure exactly how much he could help her with so little to go on, but he’d promised her he would and it was all they had at the moment.

“So where should we go from here?” she asked after sipping her glass of orange juice.

“Well, the best thing to do would be to try to see what kind of evidence the police obtained during the investigation if there was one. Did you ask them what they had? Am I to assume the no one was ever charged with her murder?”

“No I didn’t ask. I wasn’t able to get that far before the captain dismissed me. But he did tell me that if I came up with any evidence on my own he would consider re-opening the case. No one was charged with her murder…well at least that’s what my father said. Right before I left Nebraska, he told me the police had taken the clothes she was wearing, her jewelry and…” She lifted her arm and stretched it across the table.
“This bracelet.”

“How did he get that from them?”

“Shortly after he gave it to me he said one of the cops gave it back to him as a keepsake. It was next to her body when she died. She must’ve been wearing it at the time.”

His eyebrows formed a groove.
“Hmm.”

“Do you think the cops that worked the case will be as cooperative now?”

“It’s doubtful. Most of them are probably retired by now. Whoever that particular cop was, they probably let him have it because they felt sorry for him. If your father was next of kin he’d have a better chance of obtaining any kind of evidence because no one was ever charged; you…not so much. Since you’re not the victim, and I’m assuming not the next of kin, or in law enforcement, no one’s going to release anything to you.  The police are not going to touch this because it has already been solved and it’s such an old case. Unless you somehow manage to illegally get that information, which is very risky for you and the other person involved, there’s nothing you can do.”

“He’s not next of kin, they weren’t even married, and neither am I.” She looked down at her plate for a few seconds and then looked back up at him rubbing her forehead. “So there’s
nothing
I can do?”

“The only thing you can possibly try at this point is go to the media and make a plea to anyone who might have any information about her death. Provided they’re even interested in such an old story that might cause a few questions to be asked and the possibility of them reopening the case, but even
that
would be a long shot because as I said, it was an open and shut case. No charges were filed; there were no suspects and no motive for her murder.”