Chapter 2 #3
“Healing from a big time injury can really take it out of a person. How about you go get some sleep? I’ll start looking through your mail. Geoffrey didn’t get rid of that too, did he?”
“No, I made sure I got them back from the police. I always read my own fan mail because a lot comes from kids. Adults usually stick to social media and online contact, but for the little ones it’s good old fashion envelopes and stamps.
I just got a few stacks back after Geoffrey left.
I haven’t had the chance to go through them yet. ”
“Great, how about you get them for me. We can meet back on the living room couch for breakfast.” He nodded toward the door. “You got any coffee?”
She raised her brow. “Wait a minute. You’re not planning on spending the night here, are you?”
“That’s the idea, honey. You need a bodyguard, right?” He stood, stretching his back and slipping his hands in his pockets like he was ready to make himself comfortable. “Besides, I’m a night person.”
The wink inferred a double entendre. A joke. She reminded herself to lighten up. “I bet you are,” she said. “But if that sloppy display outside Giovanni’s today with that waitress was any indication, it looks you’re not opposed to daytime either.”
He laughed out loud. “Wow.”
“Wow, what?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t peg you for such a prude.”
“I’m not a prude,” she said quickly. “I was just…”
“It just sounded a little jealous actually. Which is crazy under the circumstances.”
Brielle just stood there trying to gauge the speed and the direction of a conversation she was sorry she instigated.
“And for the record, I’m not opposed to daytime at all, but for now I’d like to get a jump on all the paperwork.” He headed out the door toward the kitchen. “Now weren’t you just bragging to me about how much mail you get?”
“I wasn’t bragging. I was informing.” She jumped to her feet and breezed by him.
“You need help with the coffee?” He called after her. “You don’t strike me as a person who knows how to make it.”
“Believe me, Harrison, I’m full of surprises.”
“I don’t doubt it.” She heard him say, as she headed into the kitchen.
Callum jammed two ibuprofen in his mouth then chased it with his now cold coffee.
Since the accident, his eyes tired easily, making headaches a frequent malady.
Reading for hours in dim light certainly didn’t help.
If it weren’t for the healing thought of Brielle sleeping a room away, he’d have a full-blown migraine by now.
He closed his eyes then stretched out on the couch.
Stacks of mail covered the coffee table in front of him, each tagged with different color paper.
Nothing that stood out as Frank Riley dirty work.
But that didn’t mean a damn thing. There was a reason why it was called “organized crime.” People like Frank Riley knew how to stay one step ahead of the people trying to bring him down.
He picked up a drawing some sicko had made of a blonde-haired angel with a knife through the heart. Yeah, she got a lot of crayon pictures kids had drawn but this was clearly something different. No wonder the poor girl was scared. He chucked the offensive envelope into the “keep” file.
A yawn pulled on his mouth as he eyed the closed door at the end of the hall.
Her light had been out for a few hours now.
More than enough time to fall asleep. He imagined her nestled in her sheets, her perfect body in repose.
If he were bold enough, he would crawl in beside her and pull her close, letting her golden hair tangle around him.
Even in those crummy sweats and messy hair, she was still drop-dead gorgeous.
Brielle being engaged was unexpected. Not that he cared, but it surprised him that he hadn’t picked up on it in his research.
Callum hadn’t even met this Geoffrey and he decided he didn’t like him.
What kind of guy left the woman he loved alone like a sitting duck?
And if she wanted to play tennis again, why wasn’t he helping her make that possible?
His instincts told him there was something about Geoffrey that wasn’t right. Maybe there was a connection between him and Frank he’d missed. He hoped there was. Then he’d have a real reason to not like the guy.
He pushed himself off the couch and slipped out the sliding glass doors to the lanai. The weather had turned in the past few hours, the pleasant heat giving way to damp chill signaling rain. He paused, hoping he remembered to put the top back up on his car before pulling out his phone.
“Hello?” Came the groggy female voice on the other end.
“Hey, it’s me. Sorry I’m calling in the middle of the night. I know how you like your sleep.”
“It’s okay.” The voice replied through a yawn. “You must have something important to tell me.”
“I do. Sometime tomorrow I’ll drop her mail and anything else I find into the Post Office box.”
“Wow. That was quick.”
He smiled. “One of the few times speed impresses you.”
“You’re funny, Harrison. But did you find something in particular?”
Callum thought about it a second before answering. “I’m not sure, but there was some weird artwork sent to her. And not your standard eggplant emoji stuff. Skulls and crossbones. Unicorns. Flying centaurs. Weird shit.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“And I want you to look into someone for me. Geoffrey Martin. He’s her manager.”
“Is he friendly with Frank?” she asked.
“That’s what I want to find out. I have a funny feeling about him.”
“Anything else?”
“How about you?” he asked after a moment. “You got any news for me?”
“No. Everything is quiet.”
“Good.” He stole a glance through the window at the bedroom door. “Look, I’m worried about you. Are you okay?”
“I’m safe for now.”
“You know if you need me—”
“I know,” she said. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
“No. That’s it.” he answered. “Go back to sleep and stay safe.”
Satisfied, Callum stayed out in the night air a moment longer, scanning the perimeter one last time. When nothing stirred, he turned and slipped silently back into the house, the quiet settling in behind him.