net we’re recommending is crucial,” said Carlson. “Including at least a two-man team, double that if you can afford it.”
“I’m not walking around with four bodyguards,” she said to Carlson. And to her grandfather, “And you’re not cutting down trees and installing video cameras. I won’t let you.”
“It’s not up to you,” Chip said. “Your grandmother—”
“Will be a nervous wreck no matter what.”
“Gillian, I’m not going to argue with you—”
“Well, you can’t force me—”
“I have another idea,” Ray said, silencing them both. He peeled himself off the sideboard, turned to Carlson, knowing he was about to burst his boss’s bubble. Not to mention his own. “We can put her in a hotel. Confined space. Easy to guard. Off-duty PD as stationary guard. One man to handle security inside and in transit.”
It was a simple solution, as elegant as a wraparound against the opposing goalie. And just as tricky.
“But we’d feel better if she was here,” Chip said with a plaintive note.
Ray looked into the older man’s eyes. He hadn’t noticed how rheumy they were. Saw the loss and the fear. The slight tremble around his mouth.
“She’ll be safer somewhere else,” he said gently. “Everyone knows this place. And even if we got started on a security perimeter today, it would take the better part of a week to install all the equipment. In the meantime, your granddaughter would be vulnerable.”
Chip sank into a dining room chair and nodded.
“Look, fix the gates and use the alarm you have until we can set up something more sophisticated,” Ray said.
“And let us leave a car here. Two men to keep an eye on things.”
Chip sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know—”
“A small precaution,” Ray said. “Just in case. They’ll stay out of sight. Won’t bother you.”
Gillian put a hand on her grandfather’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”
He grunted. “Tell that to your grandmother.”
Ray booked them into the Lowe’s across from Vanderbilt. It was halfway between the house in Belle Meade and downtown, was in a heavily trafficked area that didn’t attract too many strays, and he had no trouble getting a two-bedroom suite with a connecting room for him. He made the reservation in his name and paid for it with his own credit card. One of the top ten commandments in security was never let the clients go public with their whereabouts.
He left Carlson on guard at the house while he went to grab some clothes and check in. Twenty minutes later, he came back with keys, and Carlson left.
He found Gillian and Maddie upstairs, packing. Or rather, Gillian was standing in front of her bedroom window, brooding on the view, and Maddie was flinging clothes into a battered duffel.
“There isn’t a single piece of clothing here that doesn’t have holes in it,” she said. “Why don’t we just buy what you need at the hotel?”
“Because the clothes in hotels are for people like Genevra.”
Ray crossed to Gillian. “Stay away from the windows.”
She startled, whirled, saw who it was. “Jesus, Ray. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
He drew the curtains closed. “Don’t drift off. Pay attention to your surroundings.”
“My surroundings? I’m in my own bedroom, for crying out loud.”
“In front of an open window.”
“If someone is trying to get at me, it won’t be with a sniper rifle. Not if that picture of Detective Burke’s says anything.”
“You like being a target?”
She and Maddie exchanged glances. There was something in Maddie’s face. Something challenging and know-it-all. As if she were saying, see, someone else knows your craziness.
Then, as if to change the subject, she held up a scrap of cloth. Unfurled it. A T-shirt, so thin he could practically see through it. “This is from tenth grade,” she said.
Gillian gasped. “It is.” She swiped it out of Maddie’s hands. “I forgot I had it.” She buried her face in the cloth,
“I’m not walking around with four bodyguards,” she said to Carlson. And to her grandfather, “And you’re not cutting down trees and installing video cameras. I won’t let you.”
“It’s not up to you,” Chip said. “Your grandmother—”
“Will be a nervous wreck no matter what.”
“Gillian, I’m not going to argue with you—”
“Well, you can’t force me—”
“I have another idea,” Ray said, silencing them both. He peeled himself off the sideboard, turned to Carlson, knowing he was about to burst his boss’s bubble. Not to mention his own. “We can put her in a hotel. Confined space. Easy to guard. Off-duty PD as stationary guard. One man to handle security inside and in transit.”
It was a simple solution, as elegant as a wraparound against the opposing goalie. And just as tricky.
“But we’d feel better if she was here,” Chip said with a plaintive note.
Ray looked into the older man’s eyes. He hadn’t noticed how rheumy they were. Saw the loss and the fear. The slight tremble around his mouth.
“She’ll be safer somewhere else,” he said gently. “Everyone knows this place. And even if we got started on a security perimeter today, it would take the better part of a week to install all the equipment. In the meantime, your granddaughter would be vulnerable.”
Chip sank into a dining room chair and nodded.
“Look, fix the gates and use the alarm you have until we can set up something more sophisticated,” Ray said.
“And let us leave a car here. Two men to keep an eye on things.”
Chip sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know—”
“A small precaution,” Ray said. “Just in case. They’ll stay out of sight. Won’t bother you.”
Gillian put a hand on her grandfather’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”
He grunted. “Tell that to your grandmother.”
Ray booked them into the Lowe’s across from Vanderbilt. It was halfway between the house in Belle Meade and downtown, was in a heavily trafficked area that didn’t attract too many strays, and he had no trouble getting a two-bedroom suite with a connecting room for him. He made the reservation in his name and paid for it with his own credit card. One of the top ten commandments in security was never let the clients go public with their whereabouts.
He left Carlson on guard at the house while he went to grab some clothes and check in. Twenty minutes later, he came back with keys, and Carlson left.
He found Gillian and Maddie upstairs, packing. Or rather, Gillian was standing in front of her bedroom window, brooding on the view, and Maddie was flinging clothes into a battered duffel.
“There isn’t a single piece of clothing here that doesn’t have holes in it,” she said. “Why don’t we just buy what you need at the hotel?”
“Because the clothes in hotels are for people like Genevra.”
Ray crossed to Gillian. “Stay away from the windows.”
She startled, whirled, saw who it was. “Jesus, Ray. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
He drew the curtains closed. “Don’t drift off. Pay attention to your surroundings.”
“My surroundings? I’m in my own bedroom, for crying out loud.”
“In front of an open window.”
“If someone is trying to get at me, it won’t be with a sniper rifle. Not if that picture of Detective Burke’s says anything.”
“You like being a target?”
She and Maddie exchanged glances. There was something in Maddie’s face. Something challenging and know-it-all. As if she were saying, see, someone else knows your craziness.
Then, as if to change the subject, she held up a scrap of cloth. Unfurled it. A T-shirt, so thin he could practically see through it. “This is from tenth grade,” she said.
Gillian gasped. “It is.” She swiped it out of Maddie’s hands. “I forgot I had it.” She buried her face in the cloth,
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