Someone To Watch Over Me (9 page)

“It will,” he replied.

“When?” Morgan snapped. “I have a fundraiser
at the end of the week. I can’t go into hiding. Too much depends on
this. Do you have any idea what this is like? Have you ever been in
my shoes?”

Shawn looked at her. Her cheeks were flushed
with anger and her eyes had a fierce edge to them. Textbook
response, he thought grimly. First shock, next denial, now
anger.

“No Morgan, I haven’t.”

She glared at him as she took deep rapid
breaths and looked like an Amazon warrior ready for battle.

Shawn looked down and studied his keys in
stoic silence. She was right. He had handled situations like this
several times, but he had never been in her place. He’d never been
the object of a stalker.

“I don’t know what it is like to be in your
shoes. I’m sorry if I’ve come across as unsympathetic, but-”

Before he could finish Morgan interrupted
him. “Shawn, no, I’m sorry.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I
shouldn’t have lost my temper with you.”

“Whoa.” Shawn’s head snapped up. In all the
years he had been in the security business, he could count on one
hand the number of times a client had apologized after dumping all
over the security team. Miss Morgan Kennedy had managed to do what
rock stars and movie idols had never done, seriously impress
him.

“No problem,” he replied quietly as he
slipped the key in the ignition and started the engine. “Now, let’s
go to my office and get a look at the security footage,” he
growled.

***

How could I have snapped at him?
Morgan slumped into the seat and stared out the front window. In
all the years she’d worked at the store, she'd never lost her cool
with a customer or employee, but this whole situation with the
stalker had rattled her so badly she had practically bitten Shawn's
head off.

Morgan studied Shawn as he drove. At first
glance, you’d think he was calm but she picked up little details
that told a different story. He sat ramrod straight, and his grip
on the steering wheel was firm, so much so that his knuckles were
white, literally. His head moved in small precise movements, and
his eyes searched the review and side mirrors more often than if
this had been a casual drive. He was on full scale alert.

“What did the note say?” She asked.

Shawn glanced over to her and then returned
his gaze to the road. “You're next.”

“You’re next?”

“Yeah.”

The meaning sank in, and she swallowed as her
throat and chest tightened.
Now he’s in danger too because of
me.
The overwhelming urge to move, run and get away from all of
this hit her. She raked her fingers through her hair, closed her
eyes and laid her head against the back of the seat. She uttered a
silent prayer
. Come on Shawn, say something. Tell me that things
are going to turn out fine. Say you’ve seen this before and we’ll
catch the stalker and my life will return to normal.

“I think you should know that when I leave
the office this afternoon I will be upgrading my Taser to a gun,”
Shawn said.

Morgan gulped,
So much for silent prayers
and wishful thinking.
“Is this necessary?”

Shawn nodded. “I expect him to try something
soon.”

His words from last night echoed through her
mind,
we’re not dealing with a normal person here.
She
turned and gazed out the side window. She had too many questions
and no answers.

Shawn pulled the SUV into a parking lot
outside of an office building located at the Scottsdale
Airpark.

“We're here,” he said as he turned off the
ignition.

She surveyed a cube of steel and tinted
glass. Nothing distinctive or unusual about it, there had to be
hundreds of buildings which looked like it in the metro area.

“It's perfect for our needs, close to the
freeway, and not too high profile,” Shawn said. She nodded and
wondered if he had read her thoughts.

As they walked through the front doors of the
lobby, a cool blast of air-conditioned air hit them, and Morgan
sucked in a deep breath and stopped at the elevator. Shawn turned
and beckoned her on. “No, we’re on the first floor, this way.”

He guided her to a second set of doors. He
held the door open for her to step through.

Bright sunlight blinded her momentarily, and
her eyes slammed shut. She peered through squinted lids seconds
later and spied lush vegetation as the sound of babbling water
greeted her. Somewhere among the densely landscaped courtyard was a
waterfall. Shawn stepped away from her side and led her down the
sidewalk.

Office doors on her right were spaced like
dominos every twenty to thirty yards. All of them had an office
number on them, but only a few had a business name posted and she
wondered what other types of businesses were tucked away around
here. Shawn stopped and opened the door to suite one hundred and
seventeen. Morgan stepped through the door. Given the size of the
front office, Shawn’s business didn't get much walk-in traffic. A
woman with brown hair behind the reception desk smiled at her.

“Morgan, this is Laura.”

“Hello.” Morgan said.

“Can I get you something, bottled water
perhaps?” The receptionist asked.

“Thank you.”

“Laura, please bring it to my office. Is Matt
in?”

“Yes,” Laura replied.

Shawn ushered Morgan through the door to the
right of the front desk and escorted her down the hallway. If the
television station had a nonstop gallery of photos and posters,
Sonoran Security was on the other end of the spectrum. The walls
were barren of any photos, and the gray industrial carpeting lent
an uninhabited air about the office. “How long have you been here?”
Morgan asked.

“Three years.” He opened a side door and
switched on the light. “Have a seat. I'll be back.” He turned and
left, closing the door behind him.

Morgan sighed and looked around the office.
The knot between her shoulders began to unwind and with each
successive breath, the nervous edge washed away as she surveyed the
room.

A dark cherry wood desk faced the door and a
matching credenza sat against the wall. A few papers were stacked
in neat piles on his desk, but the gallery of photos on the wall
behind it captured her attention.

She moved closer and inspected them. A police
academy photo hung on the far left. She searched a bit before she
located Shawn. The next five autographed pictures featured rock
bands and singers. The impressive collection of photos forced her
to conclude that despite the long hours and stress, the personal
security business came with some cool perks.

The next picture had been taken on a movie
set. Shawn smiled at the camera, his arm draped over the shoulders
of a slender actress who wore a costume straight out of the Old
West. Morgan leaned in and recognized the woman, Christy Thomas.
She had her arm wrapped around Shawn's waist, and she smiled up at
him. Shawn's eyes sparkled with amusement, as if they shared some
inside joke, and the picture oozed with an intimacy all the other
pictures lacked.

The last few photos featured a few movie and
television celebrities and one of Shawn in the background of a red
carpet premiere. But the image of Shawn and Christy drew Morgan
back. What was the story behind the picture?

She glanced at a framed photograph on the
credenza of a small girl. Morgan estimated her to be two or three
years old. The toddler snuggled in Shawn's arms with her head
against his chest and her tiny arms stretched upward almost curling
around his neck. Shawn gazed back in the camera with an expression
Morgan couldn't quite fathom. He appeared comfortable holding the
child, but his eyes possessed an edge of wariness.

The next photo featured the same child. She
appeared a few years older. She had a large smile with a gap where
her front tooth had fallen out. The final picture contained Shawn,
Christy and the girl.

She scanned the photos again and returned to
the last one. It reminded her of a family photo. She studied the
girl more closely.
Same eye and hair color as Shawn’s. Could
this child be his daughter?
“Stop it. I’m being silly,” she
whispered as she stepped back from the wall.

But Morgan’s mind hung onto the thought like
a bulldog, and she tried to recall if she had ever heard about
Christy Thomas having a young child. She never followed the
Hollywood tabloids, so what little she knew about Christy Thomas
was skeletal at best. The lady kept a low profile between
movies.

The door opened behind Morgan, and she spun
around. Laura entered and handed her the bottled water.

“Here you go. Quite a collection of photos,
don't you think?”

“Yes,” Morgan replied. She flashed the
receptionist a quick smile. For some strange reason, she felt a
little like a child whose hand had been caught in the cookie jar.
Morgan itched to inquire about the not-so-famous face of the young
girl in the photo gallery, but couldn't figure out what to say
without sounding like some kind of paparazzi-style stalker.

“If I can get you anything else, please don't
hesitate to ask.” Laura said as she left and closed the door behind
her.

Morgan sat down on the chair in front of the
desk and took a small sip of water while she processed what she’d
seen. Were Shawn and Christy married? He gave no hint of this
earlier when they talked at lunch, and he didn’t sport a wedding
ring. Of course, that didn't mean anything, Morgan knew from years
of working in the jewelry store that a high percentage of men opted
not to wear a ring. She stared at the photos as if the answer would
come to her. Shawn had up close and personal access on sets, so a
romance was possible. She had to admit having to depend upon a
bodyguard for protection fit into the knight-in-shining-armor
storyline quite well too. What did she know about him, really? The
door opened, and she turned to see Shawn enter followed by a tall,
lanky, sandy-haired man.

“Morgan, this is my partner, Matt
Anderson.”

“Ms. Kennedy.” The man extended his hand and
shook hers. Morgan tried not to be obvious while she studied him. A
trace of an accent hinted he came from somewhere in the South. His
face had a rugged angular look which reminded her of an action
hero, but his sharp jaw line ended with a dimple on his chin. A
feature, Morgan decided, which added a boyish aspect to him. No
wonder Stella seemed interested.

Matt sat next to her while Shawn walked
around and took the chair behind his desk.

Matt spoke first. “Shawn recapped what
happened today, and I'd like to talk about what I discovered at
your house.”

Morgan waited for him to continue.

“From a security standpoint, your home
provides some challenges. The property is not fenced, and access is
too easy. The quick fix is to add security lighting with motion
detectors attached, which should discourage uninvited guests. Now,
I don't want to scare you, but when I walked the wash behind your
property, I found a water bottle dumped in the brush by the
ironwood tree. I suspect someone has been watching you.”

A chill seeped into her and she sat back in
the chair. No wonder Shawn asked if she’d consider adding a fence
today at lunch. She took another sip of water. “Couldn't the bottle
have been left by hikers or a horseback rider?”

“Perhaps,” Matt said. “I’d like to send it to
the Scottsdale PD. Maybe they'll get some fingerprints and see if
they match anything on your car. Do you have the name of the
officer who came out to the store yesterday?”

“Yes.” Morgan reached for her purse and
fished out the business card for Officer Romano.

“There's more,” Shawn said.

Morgan peered at Shawn and then back to Matt.
Both men had the same worried expression on their faces. “What
else?”

“Things have deteriorated at a rapid pace,”
Shawn added. He paused and Morgan watched him struggle with what to
say next.

“In the last twenty-four hours there has been
one act of vandalism and two threats. Your stalker is desperate,
and we're concerned he may hurt you or someone around you.”

Morgan glanced at Matt. He nodded in
agreement.

Shawn continued, “We think you shouldn't
spend any time at your home while this guy is stalking you.”

Morgan’s stomach tightened. “Go into hiding?
I won’t do that. With the fundraiser, the store, and considering my
father’s health, I can’t expect him to step up and run this.”

“I’m not suggesting you drop off the radar.
Just not be at your home alone,” Shawn said.

Morgan paused. “Okay, what do you
recommend?”

Shawn looked over at Matt who returned a
knowing glance. He took a deep breath and exhaled. “I live in a
high-rise condo with restricted access. We think,” and he nodded
over at Matt, “that you should move into the spare bedroom until we
get this cleared up.”

Move in with Shawn? The idea appealed and
unnerved her at the same time. If he was involved with Christy
Thomas, how would staying at his place go over with her? If Morgan
were in Christy’s shoes, the answer would be not too well. “What if
I stayed with my parents?”

Shawn shook his head. “Not a good idea. He
has threatened me for being with you. I believe this guy is quite
capable of following up on those threats. You’ll put your parents
in danger too.”

“I have to agree with Shawn.” Matt added.

Morgan sighed. She couldn't put her parents
in harm's way. “Just for the record, having a stalker completely…”
She paused, searching for a word to finish the sentence.

“Sucks,” Shawn said.

Morgan forced a small smile and nodded.
“Yeah, that’s the word.”

“Oh, wait until you taste Shawn’s cooking,”
Matt cracked.

Morgan smiled at his attempt to lighten the
situation. A soft rap on the door interrupted.