Miss Fairmont and The Gentleman Investigator Page 5

  “What’s all this?” Mrs. McCarthy said, rushing to Grace’s room.

  “Grace, please,” he said.

  “Call the police,” she said to the innkeeper.

  The woman dashed off.

  “You have to—” Cough. “Listen.”

  “The detective was right. You were part of the attack on the train, weren’t you?”

  She got down in his face, as he struggled to breathe.

  “Tell me what you want,” she demanded, then she shoved that bloody pepper spray at him again.

  He lost it and grabbed her wrist away from his face. Although he couldn’t focus his watering eyes, he could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin.

  “I’m not the enemy,” he rasped.

  He snatched the spray canister from her hand, tossed it aside and stood, knocking something off a dressing table. He leaned against the wall wishing the effects of the spray would pass, so he could explain why he was here.

  And how would that conversation go, mate? I’m the babysitter hired by your daddy?

  “What do you want?” she said.

  His eyes burned as if they were on fire. “I need cold water.” He stumbled out of her room and down the hall to the toilet.

  He bent over the sink and turned on the cold water, cupping his hands. He splashed his eyes three, four times. Bugger, too many coincidences: the assault, the imposter officer who drove them around tonight and now the lights going out.

  The bathroom door closed with a click. Grace stood there holding the damn pepper spray.

  “Don’t do that again,” he said. “Please.”

  “Then tell me what this is really about.”

  “It’s about your safety.”

  “And you care why?”

  “It’s my job.”

  “As a private detective?”

  “Yes.”

  He splashed more water on his face.

  “Who hired you?”

  Now what? If he told her she’d be furious and if he didn’t tell her she’d demand the police take him away.

  Bugger, she’d probably insist they lock him up anyway.

  “Your father hired me,” he admitted.

  “How could he?”

  “Simple. He rang my boss, asked for help protecting his little girl, and I’m practically blinded for my trouble.” He pressed a cool washcloth to his eyes.

  “How much is he paying you?” she said.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I’ll double it if you leave me alone.”

  He slowly lowered the washcloth and looked at her through the mirror. Was she that offended by his presence?

  Sure she was. Grace was about dignity and class; Bobby came from street rubbish.

  No matter. He had a job to do.

  “I’m not leaving you alone,” he said. “This job is important to me and I’d rather you not muck it up because you’re on an independent streak.”

  “You make it sound so frivolous.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “I understand this.” He turned and squared off at her. “You’ve got a father who wants you safe. He knows you have a sweet look about you that makes you a target and he cares enough to hire someone to watch after you. You’re lucky you’ve got someone who cares so much.”

  “I’m twenty-six, dammit, I don’t want a bodyguard.”

  “Maybe it’s not about what you want. Do this for your father. Give him peace of mind.”

  And help me keep my job. He didn’t say it. He knew she thought him the enemy. She couldn’t care less about Bobby’s job, his future.

  She wrapped her arms around her midsection. “It always has been about him. I was doing this for me.”

  “No one’s stopping you.” He sighed and placed his hands to his hips. “Look, everyone can get what they want. You can have your holiday; your father can have peace of mind and I can keep my job.”

  Grace had imagined the compassion in his eyes, earlier, the tenderness. It wasn’t real.

  “This was all about your job,” she said in a flat tone.

  “It’s my life. I don’t have family like you.”

  “Aren’t you lucky.”

  “Miss Fairmont?” a man called through the door. “This is the police.”

  She pressed the back of her head against the door and studied Bobby Finn. He was a charmer to be sure, convincing her that he cared about her safety.

  “Please, Grace,” Bobby said, his eyes still red and watering. “If they take me in I can’t protect you.”

  “From what? There’s nothing to protect me from. I got mugged. It’s over.”

  “I couldn’t stand it if anything else happened to you.”

  “Why, because they’d dock your salary?”

  He stared at her, but didn’t answer.

  “Miss Fairmont?” the officer called again.

  She opened the door. “I’m sorry, but there’s been a misunderstanding. It was dark and I couldn’t see who it was.”

  “Are you saying you know this man?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes, he’s a friend. He wanted to surprise me.”

  “Scared the wits out of me,” Mrs. McCarthy said.

  “Please, come into the hall, miss,” the officer said.

  She followed him and shut the bathroom door.

  “You’re sure you’re all right?” he asked.

  “I’m fine.” Just angry as hell.

  “But he broke into your room,” Mrs. McCarthy said.

  “My fault, actually,” she lied. “I left the door unlocked. It’s okay. He was trying to surprise me.”

  “Looks like he got the surprise with pepper spray in the face.” He glanced at the cylinder in her hand.

  “Yeah, well.” She slipped it into her robe pocket.

  “Since all’s well then.” The officer nodded and started down the stairs. Grace heard Mrs. McCarthy offer him tea for his trouble.

  Grace glanced at the bathroom door. Great, just what she didn’t want on this trip: a shadow. Wasn’t that part of the purpose? To prove she could live her own life independently of men like her father?

  She opened the door to find Bobby coughing and splashing water on his face. Regret settled across her shoulders. She did feel bad that she’d sprayed the very man who’d given her comfort on the train.

  Because it was his job.

  “Here’s the deal,” she said.

  He turned and blinked repeatedly.

  “I need my space. Lots of it. I have things to do on this trip. Personal things.”

  “I understand.”

  She sighed. “If I’d wanted company I would have invited Steven.”

  “Of course,” he said, his face set like stone.

  “Fine, I’ll see you in the morning.” She opened the door and started down the hall. “I’ll be stopping by the American Express office to pick up a new credit card. The rest will take a few days to get here, so I’ll probably do the sights.” She opened the door to her room. “Good night.”

  Bobby glanced down the hall. She had a corner room, which was good. He’d curl up against the wall and sit outside her door. Might be overkill, then again, might not be.

  He still wasn’t sure what to make of this assignment.

  Although, he was getting a clearer picture of Miss Grace Fairmont. She was tougher than he’d originally thought, determined as hell, and a bit self-centered. All she could think about were her own needs, taking this trip regardless of her father’s worry.

  And he should be worried. Bobby wasn’t fibbing when he’d said she had a look about her that drew unsavory characters. Sweet, innocent and trusting. That’s what Miss Fairmont looked like on the outside.

  But then people weren’t always what they seemed if Bobby’s last case was any indication.

  If his own family was any indication.

  Mum had always seemed so loving.

  Loving parents don’t abandon their children.<
br />
  “Ah, that’s what happens when you come home, Bobby,” he muttered.

  Home? He sat on the hardwood floor and studied the knickknacks on the table in the hallway. This is what a real home looked like: warm and cozy.

  He’d never lived in any home like this. No, his first home was filled with sadness, and his second home with judgment and disappointment.

  In Bobby.

  He wouldn’t disappoint Max Templeton. He didn’t care what hoops she made him jump through; he’d do whatever it took to stay close to Grace Fairmont and complete his assignment.

  Crossing his legs at the ankles, he leaned against the wall. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of lavender, realizing it was Grace’s scent that hovered in the hallway outside her door.

  It was a good thing he was methodical when it came to women. He always called the shots, deciding when a relationship would start and how long it would last. Never more than a few months, of course. He wasn’t a fool. He wouldn’t completely give his heart, knowing that in the end the woman would abandon him for a smarter chap, a better provider.

  No, you couldn’t count on a woman for anything but great sex. Most of the time, anyway.

  He glanced at Grace’s door. He’d bet she was a wild one between the sheets, the outwardly reserved ones usually were. Not that he’d ever know firsthand. Becoming intimate with this woman was dangerous on so many levels.

  Grace Fairmont was the type you wanted to take care of and protect. The most dangerous kind. They drew you in and stole your heart while you were busy buying them flowers or tickets to Elton John concerts.

  SMACK! Just like that you’d be knocked on your bum and wouldn’t even know what hit you.

  Because she was smarter than you.

  Because she stole your heart and now you were half a man.

  Not that he’d ever lost his heart completely. He’d come close twice, and both times he’d managed to rip himself out of the fire before he got burned too badly.

  It was good experience to recognize the dangerous ones.

  And Grace Fairmont was dangerous as hell.

  SHE PACED her small room, did the deep-breathing technique Steven had taught her and opened her cell phone to call Dad.

  Bobby’s words taunted her. You’re lucky you’ve got someone who cares so much.

  Is that what you called it? Luck?

  Grace called it a curse, especially as she’d gotten older and Dad had never loosened up. She was an adult woman. When was he going to get that through his head?

  She hit the speed-dial number and it rang.

  “Hello?” he answered.

  “Dad?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Your bodyguard.”

  Silence.

  “Dad, I’m twenty-six. You can’t do stuff like this.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “He told me.”

  “Out of the blue a complete stranger walks up to you and announces he’s your bodyguard?”

  “No, it’s complicated.”

  “It started on the train, didn’t it? When you had your little incident?”

  “Yes, that’s how we met. Then he showed up in my room and now I want him out of my life.”

  “Why was he in your room?”

  “I didn’t ask. I got him with pepper spray.”

  “You were prepared. Good girl.”

  “I don’t feel very good. You know what a guy looks like after he’s been sprayed?”

  “I can imagine.”

  Grace didn’t have to. The image of Bobby’s bloodshot eyes and vulnerable position on the floor haunted her. She hated inflicting that kind of pain, especially to someone who’d helped her only hours earlier.

  Helped her because he was paid to help her.

  “I want to do this alone, Dad. I want to tour Scotland and learn about my mother. On my own.”

  “Let him follow you, Grace. You won’t even know he’s there.”

  She heard Bobby cough outside her door.

  “Dad, I’m not a little girl anymore. It’s time you let go.”

  Silence.

  “Dad?”

  “I will, honey. I promise. As soon as you return from your trip I’ll give you your space.”

  “I need it now.”

  “No.”

  “No? Okay, now I have to play Mission Impossible and escape from my bodyguard?”

  “Grace, please don’t do that. For my peace of mind please let him do his job. I…” He hesitated. “I have my reasons.”

  “Dad, I love you but you’ve got to stop—”

  “I can’t, Gracie. Not while you’re out of the country. There are things you don’t know.” He hesitated. “Things about your mother.”

  Chapter Five

  Her heart beat a little faster. “What kind of things?” she asked.

  “This isn’t something you talk to your daughter about over the phone, Grace.”

  Oh, God, what was it?

  “Dad, you’re freaking me out here.”

  “Your mother was and will continue to be a mystery to me in many ways. We loved each other, but she had her secrets.”

  Grace sat on the bed and thought about Steven, and how she kept a part of herself hidden from him, not entirely sure why.

  “What do Mom’s secrets have to do with me?”

  “She ran with a wild group back in the U.K.,” he said. “I’m not sure what they were into, but when I’d ask her about her life there she’d withdraw and look so terribly sad. After a few months I stopped asking. I’m afraid it might have been illegal and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you because of things your mother did.”

  “Wait a second, you always made her out to be this loving, compassionate mother who’d do anything for her child.”

  “She loved you so very much.”

  Grace couldn’t remember that love thanks to a drunk driver hitting mom’s car head-on. Hell, if it wasn’t for the photo in Grace’s locket she wouldn’t know what her mother looked like—and now that was gone.

  “What do you think she was into, exactly?” she said.

  “I have no idea. But it was ugly. She may have even spent some time in jail.”

  “Jail… Is that why you didn’t want me to take this trip? Because you were afraid I’d find out the truth?”

  “There’s only one truth, Gracie. Your mother loved you. Whoever she was ten years before she gave birth to you, she was no longer that person.”

  That really didn’t sound good.

  “Do you know why she was in prison?”

  “I don’t even know for sure she was in prison. She wouldn’t talk about her past or her family. But the way she acted in public, suspicious, like she was on the alert all the time, made me wonder.”

  “I wish you had told me this before.”

  “I know, honey. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to think ill of your mom.”

  Grace wasn’t sure what this trip would reveal, but whether good or bad, she was determined to find some kind of resolution. Even if it meant she’d discover the dark side of her supposedly loving mother.

  No, not supposedly. It didn’t matter what her mom had been into, because she was a loving mother. Her diary proved it with every word about her baby girl, Gracie.

  “Can we compromise?” he said.

  “How?”

  “You finish out this trip with the bodyguard close by and I’ll work on easing up when you get home. Please, Gracie, just this one last time.”

  She sighed. It started to make sense: Dad’s overprotectiveness and micromanaging. He’d been left alone to raise a baby girl. A big responsibility when you shared it with someone and even bigger when you were doing it on your own. Isn’t that what she’d learned from the parents of middle-schoolers? The single parents struggled so hard to give their children everything they needed, fighting time constraints and just plain exhaustion from burning the candle at both ends.

  She thought about the time Dad had rushed
her to the hospital after she’d broken her wrist, the times he sat up with her because of night terrors. She used to dream of monsters hiding in the shadows of her room; she used to hear someone breathing.

  Dad had done so much for her, on his own. And he was asking this one simple thing.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll keep the bodyguard.”

  “Thank you, Gracie.” He sounded tired, weary.

  “I’ll even try not to blast him with pepper spray again,” she joked.

  “That’s a good girl.”

  She smiled. She’d be fifty and he’d still be calling her a good girl.

  “What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?” he asked.

  “The Royal Mile. Edinburgh Castle and Holyrood, I think.” She thought about her chat with Bobby on the train. “I heard it’s fantastic.”

  “I thought you were heading up north right away.”

  “I have to wait for replacement credit cards. I can pick up a new Am Ex card, but I have to hang around for the others.”

  “You should have brought traveler’s checks.”

  “Thanks, yeah, I’ve figured that out.”

  “I’m sorry, of course you have. I’m doing it again. Okay, sweetheart. You have a wonderful time. Check in once in a while, okay?”

  “I will, Dad, promise.”

  “Love you.”

  “Love you back. ’Bye.”

  She pressed the End button and placed the phone on her nightstand. Mom’s diary caught her eye. Would Grace find hidden meanings there? Something to reveal her mother’s secrets, her dark past?

  “Oh, stop. Dad’s overreacting,” she muttered.

  True, but he overreacted because he cared. She could hardly fault him for loving her so much.

  For eight years Dad had done so many things for her without help from a wife. He’d done pretty darn well for a single father.

  She had to respect him for that. And now that she knew the truth about Mom, Grace understood why this trip in particular made Dad nervous. She wished he’d spoken with her in person instead of hiding the truth.

  Was he worried that she couldn’t handle it? That she’d idolized her mother so much the truth would destroy Grace?

  No, regardless of what her father thought, Grace knew she was stronger than that, tougher. She didn’t need to be protected and she surely didn’t need a bodyguard.