CHAPTER TWO
“What did you do that kept you out at such dangerous hours?” he asked gently, wanting to know more but not wanting to push too hard.
“I was on the cleaning staff at a theater where they had bands and traveling companies come through all the time. The shows would end around ten or eleven at night, then the guys from the stage hands union would go in and break down the sets or instruments or whatever and then give our cleaning crew the go ahead to clean the seating areas and backstage. We always started with the lobby, restrooms and public areas, but we couldn’t go into the theater and finish the seating and performing areas until they had cleared out enough of their equipment to make the place safe for us, so we were always the last ones out.”
Sullivan Lane had been a cleaning lady? Nick found admiration starting to grow for the woman who didn’t seem to shy away from hard work. Maybe she wasn’t a rich bitch, stuck-up starlet, after all? He had to revise his opinion. He’d had her pegged all wrong, which wasn’t a comfortable thing to admit, even in the privacy of his own mind.
“Is that where you caught the acting bug?” he asked, wanting to know more about this new facet of Sullivan Lane that he’d just uncovered.
“I don’t know. Maybe. We didn’t really get to see the shows. By the time we came in for work, they were nearly over, and we weren’t allowed in the theater until after the crowds left, but every once in a while, they’d leave a door open to the lobby and I could just see in a little. I enjoyed the plays—what I could see of them. The musicals were nice, too, but I can’t carry a tune in a bucket.” She chuckled lightly, an inviting sound that begged him to join in. “To be honest, I never had dreams of all this.” She gestured to the grand foyer and the big house all around them. “I wasn’t one of those actresses who had a side gig as a waitress. I was just a waitress who had a side gig as an actress. All the films I’ve been in started out as poorly funded indie projects. This last one just took off in ways nobody expected because of the director, Raja Kapoor. He’s kind of a genius.”
Whether or not the young Indian director who’d successfully made the jump from Bollywood to Hollywood was really a genius or just a guy who could spot amazing talent remained to be seen. What was not in dispute in Nick’s mind was Sullivan’s incredible portrayal of a real-life heroine. She’d been spectacular and had some gripping scenes that were written by another up-and-comer, a screenwriter chosen by Kapoor. The team of nascent talent the young director had put together for this film was what had driven its success, at least in Nick’s mind.
But he was hearing something in Sullivan’s words and tone. She wasn’t entirely happy with the way things had turned out. Surprising.
“Is this one of those cases of be careful what you wish for?” he asked gently.
“That’s just it,” she said, meeting his gaze directly. “I didn’t wish for any of this. I was doing okay as a waitress, and I certainly wasn’t getting death threats or bloody dead squirrels on my front steps. I also didn’t need a bodyguard just to go to the grocery store.” She huffed out a breath and calmed. “I’m sorry. I must sound like the most ungrateful wretch to you.”
“Not at all. You’ve had an upheaval in your life, coupled with threats nobody would take lightly. You’re entitled to wish it all away for a moment…as long as you realize you can’t, in the end. Which is why you did the sensible thing and hired us to look out for you. Your circumstances have changed, and you can’t stuff that genie back in the bottle. You’re Sullivan Lane, and you’re going to have to adapt to your new circumstances.”
She gave him a sidelong look. “Harsh, but true.” She shook her head. “And there are benefits to this change in my circumstances, as you put it. Having money is nice. Not having to worry about scrimping and saving and holding down a steady job for the first time in my life is kind of liberating,” she admitted. “And the house is gorgeous, even if it isn’t mine to keep. Eventually, when the heat dies down a bit, I want to buy a nice little place of my own—not something this gaudy or big, but something I can turn into a real cozy home. With all due consideration for security, of course.” She nodded to him respectfully. “And please, call me Sal. We might as well be on a first-name basis since it’s the middle of the night and I’m drinking tea with you in my pajamas.”
Nick did chuckle, then, enjoying her sense of humor. “How did you get Sal from Sullivan?”
“It’s the other way around. My name was always Sal. Sullivan is a stage name. The tabloids shortened it to Sully, which I’m not crazy about, but I haven’t tried correcting them,” she said offhandedly.
“All right, Sal, then” he said agreeably. “I had you pegged all wrong, and I’m sorry to admit I thought you might be like a lot of other Hollywood starlets.”
Her eyes narrowed a little, but she didn’t seem to take offense. “Spoiled rotten, you mean?” She laughed outright. “Don’t worry. I don’t have any delusions of grandeur. I’m probably a flash in the pan, and after this movie, I just might be able to go back into obscurity.”
“Oh, I seriously doubt that,” he told her. “I’ve seen the movie, you know. It was part of my prep for taking on this job. You’ve got real talent. A presence that sort of steps off the screen and into your head,” he told her, inadvertently revealing more than he’d intended, but he supposed it was okay. It was the middle of the night, after all, when secrets were more easily shared. “I don’t think Hollywood is going to leave you alone. Offers are probably already rolling in, aren’t they?”
She looked a bit guilty. “Yeah.” She sighed. “My agent says I can have my pick of projects, which is really kind of amazing, but I guess it hasn’t all sunk in yet. This business with the death threats has sort of taken the shine off this experience for me, you know?”
Suddenly, Nick wanted to bash the stalker’s face in. How dare some unknown perv ruin what should be Sal’s moment of triumph?
“I can see how that would put a damper on your enthusiasm, but you’ve done the right thing here, calling us in. We can protect you and hopefully give you the peace of mind to be able to enjoy your success the way you should.”
She raised her mug in silent toast to his words and drained the rest of the tea. She stood, then, and he realized he was sorry to see this intimate moment out of time come to an end.
“Well, I’d better try to get back to sleep. I’ve got an appearance tomorrow with the rest of the cast. We’re doing a charity thing that should be fun, and useful, too. We’re raising funds for the local hospital, which I think is a good cause. Somebody actually paid ten grand to have lunch with me. Can you believe it?”
“I believe it,” Nick answered without hesitation.
She shook her head, smiling as if she couldn’t understand what motivated some people, then turned to walk away. But she paused, just a few steps away, turning back to look at him.
“Thanks for what you said about my work,” she said, almost shyly. “It means a lot.”
Nick saw in that moment that Sal Lane was a creature of delicate sensibilities. She might present a tough exterior to the world, but deep down she was just another fragile human soul, seeking friendship and approval. He could give her that, at the very least.
“I meant every word, Sal,” he told her in a soft voice meant to convey compassion and belief.
She held his gaze for a moment longer then nodded slightly, just once, and turned to go. He watched her walk toward the stairs. There was more he wanted to say, but now was not the time. Maybe that time would never come. He just wasn’t sure.
There was something so compelling about her, yet she confused him. It was like there were two Sullivan Lanes inside her—the one she presented to the world, and one that she protected, hiding that special light from everybody. Until he cleared up the mystery surrounding this woman, he wouldn’t fully understand what she was to him.
For the more he was around her, the more he became convinced that she was significant to his future in some way. But his inner cat was puzzled. On the one hand, her scent was so familiar. So compelling. On the other, her words and deeds were secretive in a way the jaguar couldn’t understand. There was something about her—some hidden depth that he needed to understand before he would know what she was to him.
Friend or enemy. Acquaintance or…mate?
Sweet Mother of All. Could he have really have just shared a late-night cup of tea with his future mate?
It didn’t seem possible. Usually, jaguars knew their mates the moment they first scented them. Of course, it didn’t always happen like that, but nine times out of ten, scent was what alerted them to their perfect matches.
The fact that Sal was human, and an actress, might have something to do with the disorder of his senses. He knew she smelled of something…beautiful…but he had no frame of reference. He wasn’t sure what his nose was telling him, and the uncertainty annoyed his inner cat.
To be sure, it enjoyed puzzles, but this was getting a little ridiculous. The jaguar was on a mission, and the confusion wasn’t helping. In fact, it was hindering his investigation and confounding his instincts. Not good. Not good at all.
Was she doing it on purpose? Did she have some way of hampering his senses? Was she in league with evil to have such a weapon against him? Or was it all just circumstantial? He had no idea, but he redoubled his resolve to keep his eyes open on this case. There could be a whole lot more going on here than he first realized.
*
Nick searched every nook and cranny of the rented house over the next few days, finding nothing. He went through all the papers she had in her study—mostly bills and scripts. He found that she’d been telling the truth about her career as a waitress. Last year’s tax return listed a small restaurant in the next county as her employer. Previous returns had listed her on staff at a cleaning service, as well.
He also ran her social security number and learned that she had started out life with a different name. That wasn’t altogether surprising since she was an actress and stage names were the norm. Sullivan Lane had started life as Sally Lannier, but she hadn’t used that name in more than a few years except on a few legal documents, like her taxes.
Nick discovered that she was meticulous in her bookkeeping, balancing everything to the penny. He liked that. Order was important to him, as well. And she wasn’t a spendthrift. She had carefully budgeted for all of her expenditures. He found her notes and the raw numbers she’d been working with. It sure looked like she was carefully squirreling away most of her money.
That ran counter to what he’d thought most young starlets who suddenly became rich and famous might do. He’d expected extravagant expenditures. Instead, she’d bought a new car—a practical vehicle, not anything ostentatious with a high price tag and a fancy name. No, she’d opted for something that would last for years, if she wanted to keep it that long. Time would tell.
As Nick worked his way through her personal stuff, he built a picture in his mind of a woman very unlike his expectations. She was a saver. Careful with her money and how she spent it. She didn’t scrimp on necessary things, but she seemed aware that her windfall was new and fragile.
Not that he thought her career was over after only one hit movie. It could be, but he thought she had a lot of talent, if she wanted to keep on acting. What impressed him was that she wasn’t counting on future income. No, she was hoarding her winnings while she had them…just in case.
Cautious. Practical. Talented and not full of herself. She appealed to his own no nonsense nature. It would have been so easy for someone in her position to go hog wild, buying all sorts of crazy stuff, but she hadn’t. That spoke well of her personal control and maturity, and impressed the hell out of him.
As part of her security team, he had access to her daily schedule. So far, he hadn’t seen any suspicious activity as far as meetings with the press went. There were no clandestine assignations with reporters from the tabloids. All of her press appointments had neat little agendas attached about what they planned to cover in each interview or appearance—all having to do with the recent movie as far as Nick had seen.
What he really needed to check out was her cell phone, but she kept the darn thing with her at all times. At night, it charged on her bedside table. He’d noted the cord placed oh-so-conveniently there on the nightstand when he’d done a security sweep of every room early on. There hadn’t been any time where she wasn’t with the phone long enough for him to get in and either crack its encryption or make a clone of the files on it for him to sift through later.
He had all the equipment and skills needed to do it, he just lacked the opportunity.
Disappointingly, there had been no more late-night tea tastings. She had been keeping a tight schedule of interviews and publicity appearances, the PR folks making the most of the unexpected hit they had on their hands. As a result, she was tired when she finally returned home each night, and by the time Nick came on duty, she was already fast asleep, and stayed that way all night.
Nick worked the midnight-to-seven shift in the house, so he didn’t often cross paths with her. During the day, he shadowed her schedule—sometimes officially, filling in gaps in the security team as she went to and fro her various appointments, and sometimes unofficially, being a face in the crowd, using all his stealth skills to keep an eye on her from a short distance. Mostly, he listened, ready to spring into action the moment she said anything the least damaging about his people or any evidence she might have pertaining to shapeshifters.
He’d been doing that for a week, now, and frankly, he didn’t think she was going to spill the beans, if she actually had them. He thought, if she did have video, she would have shown it to someone by now, but that didn’t mean his assignment here was over. He was the head of security for the entire jaguar Clan. He decided when this mission was complete, and so far, he wasn’t satisfied. Not by a long shot.
Whether that decision was made by his head or by something a little lower down, he wasn’t entirely sure, but the inner jungle cat was demanding he stay and watch over the woman. His instincts were to keep her safe, and he’d learned long ago not to argue with them.
Especially since he’d intercepted another decapitated squirrel at the front gate to the mansion when he’d gone on duty last night. The nut job who had threatened her before was at it again, and he’d found her new home. Not good.
All of Nick’s protective instincts rose to an angry bristle. Her manager had decided not to tell Sal about the new threat just yet after Nick had called his chain of command at the security company and reported the near-breach. Personally, he thought that was the wrong call, but technically, he wasn’t in charge of this operation.
His buddies who owned the security company probably realized Nick had a hidden agenda, but they trusted him enough to let it play out. He was on the team as a special favor, and they knew he wouldn’t do anything that might damage their business or reputation. There was a long history between them all, and none of them would betray the other in any way.
Of course, the guys who owned Halibut Security were all former Navy SEALs. The somewhat fishy name of their company was a bit of a joke between them. It was also a combo of their last names. Haffern, Linelli and Buttons were the three principle owners, and all were human.
Nick wasn’t sure if they realized that many of their friends and work associates from the Teams were shifters. Oh, they might understand that some guys had special skills, but they probably didn’t understand exactly where they came from. It was a well-hidden fact that a bunch of selkies had created the Navy SEAL program in the Viet Nam era, and many other kinds of shifters had gone out for the Teams ever since.
There were quite a few humans who made the cut as well, and if their teammates had a little extra instinct, or strength, or whatever, nobody commented openly. There was a code they all followed, and they were brothers in arms, regardless of their exact species.
It helped that the admiral in charge of all Special Operators was himself, a creature of myth and magic. He knew how to best utilize the special talents of each group he put together, and he had created a few very selective shifter-only squads that he used in cases where humans would never discover exactly how they accomplished their near-impossible tasks.
In this operation, Nick was the only shifter on the team. He reported directly to Linelli, a guy he’d worked with a few times during his stint in the Special Forces. They’d always had a good working relationship, and that seemed to carry through to civilian life, as well. Nick had called in the discovery of the dead rodent just after midnight, and Linelli had dispatched extra guys to work the perimeter overnight.
There hadn’t been any additional problems, and the decision on what to do about the threat had been put off until the morning. Nick had asked for and been given a double shift, following Sal at a discreet distance as she went about her public relations appearances during the day. He’d caught a few hours of sleep while she attended a gala fundraising dinner and was ready for duty again that night.
By that time, her handlers had decided not to tell her about the renewed threat. Nick thought that was a bad call. It was her life on the line. She deserved to know. But he had to keep reminding himself—he wasn’t in charge here.
Still, his instincts clamored for him to get additional personnel on the ground. Which was why he placed another call to Linelli just after midnight.
“I know you guys specialize in security,” Nick said, trying to be diplomatic, which wasn’t really his strong suit. “But what about investigations?”
“We generally leave that to the police,” Linelli admitted. “We’re strictly bodyguards and security systems.”
“What if I could get you an investigator I’ve worked with before? A guy with our kind of experience and a boatload of discretion?” Nick really wanted to get to the bottom of the threat to Sal’s safety. Just guarding her against danger wasn’t enough. He wanted the danger eradicated completely. Killed. Dead.
“I don’t know. It’s not something we really do… But, if you feel that strongly about it…”
“I do,” Nick told him when Linelli trailed off. “Something really bad is going down here, friend. You know my instincts are never wrong. Think what it would do to your company’s reputation if you lost her to violence.”
“Shit.” Linelli sighed heavily over the phone line. “You really believe that, don’t you?”
“I fear it,” Nick admitted quietly. Guys like them didn’t often admit to fear.
There was silence for a moment on the other end of the line, then Linelli spoke again. “Who do you have in mind?”
“Ever hear of a guy named Collin Hastings?”
“Hear of him? Hell, man. He’s like the most exclusive private investigator in the country. Everybody wants to hire him, but nobody can get past his screening process. He only takes on very special cases, from what I hear.”
“I can get him. Guaranteed.” Nick might be stretching the truth a little bit, but he didn’t doubt that, if Hastings wouldn’t come running at his call, he could ask his Alpha to make a special request that could not be refused. At least, not lightly.
“Shit, Nick. You’ve got more surprises in you than a Mini full of clowns.” Nick could hear the respectful exasperation in Linelli’s voice. “Okay. Call him. If you can get that guy, I know discretion is a given. We don’t want this getting around, but you’re right, it would be a complete disaster if we lost a client to a fruitcake that gets his jollies killing squirrels and scaring ladies.” Linelli paused, then continued, “I’ll talk to Buttons and Haffern. You talk only to your contact. Nobody else. I don’t want the rest of the security team knowing that we’re going outside our bailiwick on this one. The investigation is your baby. You interface with Hastings and report back directly to me. We need to keep this quiet, but I also want to know what’s going on, so regular reports would be appreciated.”
Nick knew that meant they were mandatory, but he had expected that. It was Linelli’s company’s reputation on line, after all.
“Roger that,” Nick replied. “I’ll call him and let you know once he’s accepted the case.”
Linelli chuckled. “You’re that sure of yourself. Man, you’ve got brass ones, Nick. Glad you’re on our side.”
They hung up after exchanging a few more words, and Nick got right to work, contacting the premier shifter detective in the United States. He had a big favor to ask.