“Mark!” Kelli was standing outside the bar again with a manager he knew. The older man had a phone to his ear and nodded to Mark before retreating back into the business. Kelli waved him over. The obvious relief that painted her face at the sight of him made him uneasy.
“I think this belongs to you,” he said by way of greeting. Kelli took her purse, but her eyes stayed on his.
“Thank you.” The expression of relief turned to gratitude. Again, it made him uneasy. He nodded.
“Are you okay?” he motioned to her cheek. It was red, scraped, with a few spots of blood.
“Yeah. I’d rather have this than a cut from the knife.” She quieted.
“Did the manager call the cops?”
“Yes. When you took off, I ran back to call. I would have used my cell phone, but it’s in my purse.” That’s when she noticed the cut on his arm. He could feel its sting but knew it was harmless. “You’re hurt!”
“Don’t worry. It looks worse than it feels.”
“Hey, you get a good look at the guy?” The manager had come back out without the phone. Mark didn’t miss the bulge of a gun beneath his shirt.
“Not his face,” he admitted. “But I do know he was sitting at your bar.”
“He was in the bar?” Kelli asked, voice pitching high. The manager didn’t seem too thrilled, either. Even in the dim light from the street lamp, Mark could see his face redden in anger.
“He was sitting at the end closest to the corner. I remember seeing the back of his jacket. He got up as soon as you passed him, leaving. He seemed a little too interested, so I thought I’d check it out.” He looked at the manager. “He had a beer in his hand, so—”
“So we have him on camera. And maybe his card is on file, too,” the man finished. “A cop is on the way. He’ll want your statement, so you two stick around. A beer on the house for your troubles.”
“Thanks,” Kelli said, though she didn’t follow the man back inside. Her attention was on her purse.
“Hundreds of muggings a year and you have the luck of the draw to get one of them,” Mark said.
That pulled a snort from her. “Bad luck seems to follow me.”
Whether she meant it to be a pointed comment or an off-the-cuff response, it sobered him. Standing a few inches shorter than him, Kelli looked suddenly fragile. He had to remind himself she was the same woman who’d stood her ground and kept calm when a lowlife punk had a knife pulled on her.
“What did he take?” he asked, not wanting to think about what might have happened had he not followed them.
Her eyebrow arched. “Nothing,” she answered.
“What?”
She produced her wallet and phone.
“Okay, now that’s lucky right there!”
“Is it?” Kelli’s expression turned skeptical fast. “Why not take anything?” she asked. Opening her wallet, she showed him it was full of cash.
“I must have scared him off.”
“Or—”
Her thought was cut off as a police cruiser pulled up behind them. The officer got out, and Mark went to meet him. This definitely wasn’t how he’d anticipated the night going.
Twenty minutes later, Kelli was ready to go home. The officer took their statements and then went to look at the security footage with the manager. Mark wanted to go, too, but he couldn’t see the reason behind it. Kelli was safe and had her belongings back.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mark asked as they got to her car. Sudden guilt riddled him. The first time he’d seen her since the fire and she’d been attacked.
“I’m fine,” she said with a kind, polite smile. “Thanks for everything, Mark.”
They didn’t say much more. Just the awkward goodbye two relative strangers exchanged without committing to seeing each other again. Mark watched as she drove away.
He was surprised at how the thought of never seeing her again struck a sour note.
Then, just as the feeling occurred, guilt followed it.
* * *
“I’M FINE.”
It was the second time Kelli had said it within the space of an hour, but this time it was to a very anxious Lynn. Her best friend was sprawled across the couch with a magazine open on her lap, and her eyes were saucers.
“Oh, my God, I can’t believe you got mugged!”
“Hey, quiet. My kid’s trying to sleep,” Kelli warned with a smile. Seeing Lynn so obviously upset was starting to make her calm crack. She was surprised she had even been able to recount the entire story before Lynn interrupted.
“I know she’s asleep,” Lynn said, dropping the volume of her voice. “I’m the one who put her there and read that annoying counting-sheep book to her. Can we just get rid of that thing, by the way? Maybe ‘misplace’ it? Say the Easter Bunny needed it to keep on hopping, or maybe Santa needed it to fight crime or something? I think I’ve read that to her at least a hundred times already.”
Kelli appreciated Lynn’s attempt to calm her with a change of subject. The knotted stress within her lessened. She kicked off her shoes and leaned back into the pillows.
“And risk a never-ending tantrum? No way. I’d rather read it every night than endure one night without it.”
Lynn seemed to reconsider her stance before returning to the topic at hand.
“I still can’t believe you got jumped.” Her face softened, lips turning down. “He could have really hurt you, Kel.”
“I know, but he didn’t.”
Lynn’s eyes slid to the scrape on her cheek. As Kelli had sat in the driveway outside the house, the light from the car mirror had shown her the small wound looked worse than it felt. Which is what Mark had said of his cut. Her thoughts switched to the man.
“I’m just glad Mark saw the guy follow me out,” she admitted out loud. “Do you know he didn’t even have a gun on him? The only weapon he had, he took from the guy.”
Lynn whistled. “He’s got my praise. So how was talking to the bodyguard after all this time? What did he want to talk to you about?” Out of all of the people who had ever stepped into Kelli’s life, Lynn was the one person she’d always confided in without hesitation. From the crush she’d had on Billy Ryan in third grade to that one thing Victor had done in bed, there had never been a wall between them.
Until Kelli had found Victor’s journal and started to investigate.
The urge to tell Lynn of her suspicions had been great, but something had stopped her. Whether that was fear of judgment or embarrassment at making something out of nothing, Kelli wasn’t sure. Regardless, the excuse she’d made to meet Mark had been a lie.
“It was good. Nothing too special, just catching up.” Another lie. Another shot of guilt. “But he’s no longer a bodyguard,” she added, needing a dose of truth to ease her conscience.
“What do you mean?”
“He quit last year.” Nikki had told her that when she had called looking for him.
“Why?”
Kelli shrugged, but she could bet why he’d quit security. She couldn’t ignore the way Nikki had sounded almost sad as she recounted the information.
Lynn