Bodyguard to the Billionaire Page 10

  Tamsin slapped a hand over her mouth, and my mouth hung open. What kind of fuckery was this? Some kind of role-playing game?

  "You see? That wasn’t so hard. Now I’ll unlock you."

  There was a clinking and clanking sound and then a squeal. And then "Oh—"

  A series of moans and groans continued, and Tamsin asked, "How many inches do you think she's working with?"

  I coughed a laugh. "Oh my God, you are so terrible. Can we turn this off? I really don't want to hear them doing it."

  "Hey, we gotta hear everything. And right now, we know that she has a man that she insists on calling Derrick. Do you think she's over him?"

  "Hell, I don't know. People are crazy. As of yesterday, she was still calling him. I don't know what for, but we really get nothing out of listening to this."

  There was more groaning, and then the guy said in an ethereal, low tone, "What's my name?"

  And then Miranda moaned, "Derrick. Oh my God, Derrick, yes. Yes. Right there. Right there." And then there was... well… a long groan and then silence.

  Tamsin sat back and stared at me. "It looks like you have some competition. Someone who's pleased at simply saying his name over and over again."

  I laughed and slapped my hands over my face. "Oh my God, what am I supposed to say to him now?"

  "I don't know. Ask him, 'Hey, was your ex a freak? Does she like to rename guys that came after you?'"

  "He likely wouldn’t know."

  "Hey, maybe he would, and that's why they broke up. She has a Derrick name fetish or something."

  "Jesus Christ, she's certainly not over him," I said.

  Tamsin coughed. "Girl, if you broke up with a billionaire, you'd be pissed off about it too. We all would. She's definitely a viable suspect. I'll have Ariel work on getting the listening permit. We need ears inside. Just in case we missed hearing anything."

  "No, I agree. In the meantime, I think I need to get back."

  Tamsin gave me a cheeky smirk. "Make sure you ask him about Miranda. I'm dying to hear what it is about him that she just can't let go of."

  "No. I'm not giving you juicy details. I will ask about Miranda, but that's it."

  She shrugged. "Don't worry, I'll help Ariel do all the digging, so I'll find out on my own. But it's so much more fun when your best friend tells you."

  "No, we're not having this conversation. I'm gonna go. Call me if there are any developments. I’ll check in after I make my visit to Republic."

  As I started to climb out of the car, Tamsin started to moan. "Oh Derrick, right there. Right there, Derrick. Derrick! Oh my God, Derrick. Your dick is so thick Derrick. Oh my God." And then she broke out into a fit of giggles. "Mark my words, you're going to make that man your bed buddy."

  "Not at all what I want. Let me know if there's anything else from Miranda." Then I slammed the door behind me.

  I didn’t need to hear any more. And not because I was jealous Miranda knew exactly what Derrick felt like.

  Whatever you need to tell yourself.

  Zia…

  There was a certain scent associated with a prison.

  It smelled like despair. Like complete and utter hopelessness.

  Republic Prison was the main prison for violent crimes. Only the truly special were sent to Stanstit. Stanstit prison was reserved for traitors and treasoners. By and large, the prison sat empty. Although it did contain the king’s own cousin and Prince Tristan's brother, Ashton.

  Republic held run of the mill violent criminals. And Alistair Cummings was one of them.

  Ariel had arranged with the warden for me to have a private audience with him. He would still be in his chains, and the guard would be close by. But like it or not, I was talking to him.

  When I was led to the private room, I couldn't help but notice all the gray. The place was completely devoid of sunlight. Oh, sure, there were windows that allowed diffused light to come through, but it wasn't the bright blue of the outside. It was like all the hope had been sucked out of the place.

  There was really no point in feeling sorry for a man like Alistair Cummings. He deserved to be in there. But still, he was a human being. And to never see the sunlight again? That was something I couldn't fathom.

  Except, he kidnapped a little boy.

  Yeah, there was that.

  When I was shown into the room, the guard gave me instructions; no touching, stay on my side of the table, and he would, of course, be right behind me.

  When Cummings was let in, he frowned when he saw me. "Who the hell are you?"

  "Mr. Cummings, my name is Zia Barnes. I work for Royal Elite. I'm one of the King's Knights."

  "Well, la di da, aren't you fancy?"

  He didn’t look the part. Yes, he had on a gray jumpsuit that made his pallor look sallow. But he was clean and well fed. Average looking. "Mr. Cummings, look, I won't waste a lot of your time, but I came to ask you about the reason you're in here."

  He rolled his eyes and sat back. "What, you wanna ask me about a kidnapping I committed over twenty years ago?"

  "Yeah, I do. From what I understand, your partner was killed when you were arrested."

  "Not killed. He was murdered. I'm telling you right now, that's the real travesty. The fact that I'm not up for parole after all these years and that he was shot in cold blood. It must be nice to be a billionaire and related to the king."

  "Are you saying Timothy Arlington is keeping you here?"

  "What I'm saying is that the justice system is stacked against me. I made a mistake."

  "I hardly classify the kidnapping of a young child a mistake. That's a crime."

  "Fuck. It was a simple K&R. All Arlington had to do was pay the fucking ransom, and we’d have returned the kid."

  "Except, you didn't return him."

  "He escaped. The plan was always to send him home. But Timothy Arlington wouldn't pay the ransom. It was clear we either had to get rid of the kid or let him go. And I don’t care what they told you. I’m not a killer."

  "Right, just a kidnapper."

  He scowled. "What do you want, lady?"

  "Your partner, Gus Vincent. When your warehouse was raided, he was shot and killed, correct?"

  "Look, between the time the kid ran off and the police showing up, it wasn't that long. It was four miles to the nearest civilization. A kid that young, running four miles would have taken him at least an hour. We knew the second the kid slipped his ties. We checked the video timestamp, and he’d only been gone twenty minutes. But seconds later, a tactical team bursts in and shoots Gus. Arlington knew where his kid was the whole time."

  My brows lifted. "Are you serious?"

  He nodded. "I'm telling you. I wouldn't have put it past Arlington to have arranged the kidnapping with Gus himself. He knew insurance would pay. It’s the only thing that explains why he didn't come and get his kid."

  It was my turn to sit back. That was a depth of cruelty even I hadn't imagined. "So, Derrick Arlington ran away?"

  "God, it wasn't my first round of K&R—"he slid his gaze to the guard—“hypothetically speaking. "I'm just saying that perhaps, someone like me, had never seen anything like it. The kid had slipped his ties three times. Three separate times he tried to run off. He was whining and a pain in the ass. God, it was terrible. I wanted to send him home immediately, but Gus wanted to kill him."

  "Well, lucky for Derrick Arlington he was good at escaping."

  "Yeah, whatever. Now, I'm stuck in here. Did you get what you wanted?"

  "Just one more question, Mr. Cummings, who hired you to kidnap him?"

  He shook his head. "That was Gus's deal. He came to me and said, 'Hey, I have this K&R job to pick up a billionaire's kid.' The guy who hired him said we’d split it fifty-fifty. I supposed the guy had some kind of beef with Timothy Arlington over a business deal or something. That’s all I ever knew.”

  "Any chance you have a name?"

  Cummings sat back again and lifted up his hands, chains jingling. "Nope.
I don't remember a thing. I mean, granted, you could maybe sweeten the pot a little for me and see if you can jog my memory." He winked.

  "Here's the thing, guys like you never seem to remember exactly what's needed. You want me to keep coming back here over and over again until you remember something, all the while promising the moon. I don't really have time to waste like that. You've already given me quite a bit. Thank you for your time, Mr. Cummings."

  He scowled at me. "Where do you think you're going?"

  "I'm leaving. Again, thank you. You were more helpful than you know."

  I couldn't wait to get the hell out of there.

  In the end, I didn't really have that much information. But I did have something. The one thing I did get was information on Derrick's determination. Three times he'd tried to run, and his own father had supposedly known where he was. Not to mention, he'd refused to pay the ransom.

  Derrick had to know. Why hadn't he mentioned it himself? I was going to find out.

  As I left, I sent a text to Ariel.

  Zia: Just met with Cummings. Not much information. But he suggested that Timothy Arlington knew where Derrick was being held the whole time. He suggested that maybe it was Arlington, himself, who arranged his son’s kidnapping.

  Ariel: Why would he hate his own son that much?

  Zia: I have no idea. He also said that a business associate of Timothy Arlington's was supposedly behind it, but I don't know how much of that is true.

  Ariel: I'll look into it. Maybe it's nothing, but if something’s there, we'll dig it up.

  I practically ran to the doors. It wasn’t until I was out in the sunlight that I dragged in several breaths of clean fresh air, glad I would never have to return there.

  Ten

  Zia…

  I was still reeling from my conversation with Cummings when I returned to the office. How determined did Derrick have to be to escape kidnappers? At age nine?

  And what kind of parent left their child in the hands of kidnappers, especially when they had the means of getting them back. Christ, and I’d thought my family was fucked up.

  The key now was to get Derrick to talk to me. My instincts told me not to show my hand yet. But he was the client, not a suspect, so I had to ask him about what I’d found out. Maybe it would jog a memory of who else might be after him.

  Yeah, good luck with that.

  When I walked in, Olivia came stomping over to my desk on her staggering heels, tipping slightly. "Do you think you can handle things for a bit? I know you're just here to look pretty, but it's my lunch break and I’ve covered for you all morning. You just have to answer the phones and take messages. Can you do that?"

  I narrowed my gaze at her, willing my temper not to spill over. I wanted to deliver an elbow to her temple and knock her ass off her feet, but I didn't, because violence was not the way to solve my problems. Instead, I smiled sweetly and vowed to feed her plant coffee. "Yup, I got it."

  "And for the love of God, don't file anything until I get back. Your filing system makes no sense."

  "Are you sure you don't want me to color code anything? Because I feel like that could really improve the feng shui of the files..." My voice trailed, and she stomped off, shaking her head. That was almost too easy.

  Derrick barked from his office. "Olivia, Come in here."

  Since Olivia was gone, I grabbed my notes and went on in, making sure to smooth my skirt as I walked. It was probably wrinkled to all hell. I likely smelled of prison.

  "No need to yell. Olivia’s not here. She went to lunch."

  Derrick groaned. "Christ, I would swear she’s deliberately trying to sabotage me. She’s pissed I didn’t take her to the meeting the other day."

  "Why don’t you replace her?"

  He sighed. "I have been asking myself the same damn question." His gaze slid over me. “Productive morning? Any leads on who’s trying to kill me?”

  I lifted a brow. “Trying to get rid of me already?”

  “The sooner you find out who's after me, the sooner you can admit how sexy you think I am."

  I bit back my smile. "It’s nice to have hopes and dreams."

  "Trust me, it's something we both want."

  When he said that, his gaze flickered to my lips, and I could still feel his lips on mine. There was the phantom pressure of his length against my core, and I throbbed. I narrowed my gaze at him. He couldn't tell I was throbbing, could he?

  That would be decidedly unfair.

  It was already unfair that he was as good-looking as he was, and he knew it. Everything was so perfect and in its place. I was desperate to mess him up, run my hands through his hair and make it stick up.

  Lady Parts: Hell yes, we can get behind that plan.

  Brain: No. No, we cannot get behind that plan. Focus. Find who's trying to kill him and get out unscathed.

  Easier said than done.

  “I don’t date clients.”

  His grin was broad. “Who said anything about dating?”

  God, the grin was damned contagious. But I could not give in. “Does that line ever work for you?”

  “You’d be surprised how often,” he said with a chuckle. Then he asked, "Did you find anything?"

  Here went nothing. "Well, it seems someone tried to kidnap you when you were nine years old." I watched him closely. My gaze pinned on his. Something flickered in his eyes, and I couldn't tell what it was. But before I could study him further, he shut it down quickly. Was that surprise? Did he think we wouldn’t find out?

  He cleared his throat. "That was a long time ago. I'm thirty now. I don't think whoever was after me then is after me now. That would be ridiculous."

  "Not ridiculous. It’s pertinent information we should have had directly from you. Do you remember anything from that time? Do you know how you escaped?”

  His voice was more tense now. “Enlighten me as to why you think that has any relevance now.”

  “Look, I get that it must have been horrible. And I’m so sorry you went through that. I’m so sorry your father has a rat-sized dick and didn’t come get you, but this is absolutely pertinent.”

  His lips twitched when I said rat-sized dick. “Zia, I don’t want to revisit the past.”

  “I’m sorry, but we can’t let it go. I went to see Alistair Cummings this morning.” His gaze remained impassive. Like he didn't care. “He’s in prison with no possibility of parole.” Again, no reaction, so I barreled on. “He claimed that he and his partner were hired for a simple K&R job but that he didn't know who his employer was. He was hired to take you. Doesn’t that seem the least bit odd to you considering someone else is trying to take you in your adult life?"

  "Zia, you recognize that kidnap and ransom is a lucrative business, right? He’s probably not the first to take a swipe at my family."

  "Why do you seem entirely uninterested in this? This is your life, so why do I care more about it more than you do?"

  He frowned. "So you care about me?"

  I glowered at him. "I don't. I care about my job. My boss and my king have made you my priority, so I need you to get on board and give me all the help that you can."

  "You have full access. Office. Home. You're everywhere I turn. I have given you access."

  "No, you've made it look like you've given me access. You're going to have to be open with me, Derrick, or this won't work."

  He frowned just a little bit when I called him Derrick.

  "If you don't want me to call you Derrick, what do you want me to call you?"

  Through clenched teeth, he muttered. "Derrick is fine."

  "Okay, then. Look, I'm doing you a favor. Right now, I see a couple of different avenues as to why someone is after you. The one that makes the most sense is a disgruntled ex. Can you tell me more about Miranda Lincoln? Like why you broke up?"

  He nodded slowly. "It had run its course. She was dissatisfied with how the relationship ended."

  "Would you care to elaborate?"

  "I br
oke up with her. She wanted us to keep seeing each other. She became obsessive and then threatened me twice, publicly. Loudly."

  "Do you know she’s not over you?"

  He frowned. "No. But how do you know that? And what does that have to do with my kidnapping? She’s a socialite. I sincerely doubt she even knows how to kidnap someone."

  I leaned forward. "Do you know she has a new boyfriend?"

  He shrugged. “Is there a reason I should care?"

  “Only that they role play by her calling him Derrick. That strikes me as a tad bit obsessive.”

  His eyes went wide. “I’m not sure I want to know how you know that.”

  “You probably don’t.”

  “Why would she have called someone else my name? That makes no sense.”

  He really didn’t get it? "Well, you must have never been in love, have you? That all-consuming kind of love?"

  His gaze was intent on me then. As if he could see the truth behind what I was saying. "Have you?"

  I swallowed hard. Focus, Barnes. Focus. "Look, I believe people can lose their minds over someone that they think they love. They can lose all reason and refuse to do things that are good for them instead of doing the thing that feels good. It's crazy, but true. And Miranda is not over you. She’s a threat. She still calls here looking for you."

  He ignored what I said about Miranda. "I watched you at the wedding. You ran into the crowd and hid between two pillars just to avoid someone. Was that love?"

  Heat burned my skin, scorching it, most definitely turning it to ash. "You don't know why I was running. You have no idea."

  "Sure, I do."

  "So, you've never done anything crazy for love?"

  He shook his head. "Nope."

  "Then you, my friend, have never been in love."

  "You're right. And God save me from that affliction."

  I wasn’t sure why, but that hurt.

  Why would it hurt? He’s not yours.

  "Can we just get on the same page and agree that you won’t keep us I the dark? In the meantime, I'm going to keep chasing down this Alistair Cummings link. Maybe there is a connection."