Guarded Moments Read online

  “No problem,” she said, talking fast and praying that Jenson would be too lazy to notice that this huge man was standing far too close to her. Or that he was armed. Or that he was willing to break her arm if Jenson got in the way. “I’m going to take this gentleman out in back so he can see more of the inventory.”

  “Okay. I’d offer to help, but I don’t know beans about plants.”

  Cautiously, she maneuvered past him. “Keep an eye on the front,” Tasha said. “Thanks.”

  They were at the back door. Tasha fumbled with the lock. Her fingers trembled so badly that she could barely manipulate the key. What would Green do when they were alone? How could she get away from him?

  And where was David? This never would have happened if David had been in the shop, protecting her, taking care of her, making sure that everything was all right.

  She heard Jenson’s growl. “Freeze, mister.”

  “No,” Tasha pleaded. As she turned, Green caught hold of her. With his huge arm, he held her in front of him like a shield. She didn’t attempt to struggle. There was no point. But she was talking fast. “Please don’t get in the way, Mr. Jenson. Everything’s all right.”

  Jenson stood with his own gun braced in front of him with two hands. “All right, mister. You put your gun down on the floor. Do it, now. If you don’t, by God, I’ll shoot.”

  “No,” Tasha said. She pointed out the obvious. “Mr. Jenson? If you shoot at him, he’s going to kill me.”

  “Well, now. We don’t know that, do we?”

  “I think we can assume.” She couldn’t believe this was happening. Calm, she thought. If she wanted to get away with her life, she needed to stay calm. “Mr. Jenson, if you shoot, you’ll probably hit me.”

  “Not a chance. I’m a crack shot.”

  “Please.” Her voice quavered. “Please turn around, walk away and pretend you didn’t notice a thing.”

  “He’ll shoot me in the back.”

  Finally, Green spoke. “Put down your gun. Or I will kill the girl.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that.”

  Green tightened his hold on Tasha. His massive arm constricted below her breasts. The pressure on her ribs was painful. All the air went out of her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. Though she tried to struggle, her arms were pinned.

  “Put down your gun,” Green repeated.

  Jenson whined, “You’ll shoot me.”

  “I won’t,” said the man. “You have my word.”

  Tasha fought for every gasp. She was losing consciousness. With her last breath, she whimpered, “Please.”

  Jenson set his handgun down on the floor and took a step backward. “I won’t call the cops,” he said. “You have my word.”

  “Very funny.” Green gestured to Jenson with the gun. “Come here. Right over here beside me.”

  “What for? Are you going to tie me up? You don’t have to do that.”

  “Over here. Turn around. Put your hands behind your back.”

  As Jenson obeyed, Green released Tasha. The breath rushed back into her body. The sudden release of tension was stunning. Her knees went weak, and she had to brace herself against the wall to keep from collapsing.

  Green moved toward Jenson. He grasped the bodyguard’s wrist and made a quick movement. Tasha heard a sickening snap.

  Before Jenson could scream, Green whacked him on the back of his head with the butt of his gun. Jenson sagged to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

  When Green turned back to her, his face was slightly flushed. His sneer became a grin. “I love my work,” he said.

  He tucked his gun back into the shoulder holster. “I don’t think I need this, anymore. Do you?”

  She shook her head, unable to speak.

  “You won’t try to run or call for help?”

  “No.”

  “This is very good, Miss Lancer. Now, let’s go.”

  She didn’t need to be told twice. Fighting her nausea and her panic, she opened the door and stepped through. Outside, the sun was shining. The usual sounds of traffic and chattering shoppers wafted on the light autumnal breeze.

  The world had never looked so dark to Tasha. Blinded by terror, she stumbled, and Mr. Green took her arm. With this monster holding on to her, she’d never felt so much alone.

  Chapter Five

  The minute he saw Tasha on the street, David knew something was wrong. It wasn’t just the fact that she’d left the shop when he’d told her not to. Nor was he particularly alarmed by the giant man who strode beside her. David knew something was wrong because he saw fear in Tasha’s face.

  His heart wrenched in his chest as he watched her. The sassy, defiant attitude was gone. Her shoulders hunched inward. Her usual bouncy stride looked more like a shuffle, as if her ankles were locked in invisible shackles. My God, what had happened?

  David had been sitting at the curb, checking items off his list of things to do, when he saw Tasha and this huge man emerge from the rear of Bloom’s. As David watched, they stopped beside a light-colored sedan with tinted windows. Colorado license plates.

  David’s attache case was open on the seat beside him. He reached inside, took out a.35 mm camera and shot three quick photos of the thug. God, this guy was big. Approximately six feet, seven inches tall. Probably weighed three hundred and ten pounds.

  Tasha entered the car voluntarily and sat quietly with her head down while the behemoth climbed into the driver’s side.

  David was puzzled. Was she going with him of her own free will? What had he done to her?

  Where the hell was Jenson? David glanced back at her shop, fearful of what he might find inside. But that would have to wait. By sheer luck, he’d seen Tasha leaving, and he had to follow her.

  He picked the cellular phone out of his case and called the offices of Earl Rockman as he merged into the halting traffic pattern of Cherry Creek. David had already visited Earl’s north Denver offices to drop off a copy of the sketch Tasha had made of the Russian man and to request a replacement for Jenson.

  Earl come on the phone. “What’s up, David?”

  “We’ve got trouble with a capital T. Somebody grabbed Tasha Lancer.”

  “Where’s Jenson?”

  “I didn’t see him.”

  “That’s not good,” Earl said. “Jenson’s no genius, but he’s a bulldog. He wouldn’t let somebody snatch the girl without a fight.”

  “Can you check out Bloom’s Flowers without calling out the National Guard? My client wouldn’t want a disturbance with sirens and cops. This is a classy area.”

  “Don’t tell me about class, Davey boy. I was playing protocol with the crowned heads of Europe when you were still collecting baseball cards. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. What are you doing?”

  “Tailing the car that grabbed her.” He read off the license plate. “And I’ve got some more photos to run through FBI and Interpol.”

  “I’m on it.”

  “Thanks.” David hung up the phone and concentrated on his driving. The four-way stop signs at every corner made it easy to tail the pale sedan. David fell into line, two cars back. They were headed toward the main intersections. One street went north. The other went south.

  The north direction, which went toward downtown Denver, was far easier to track. Once again, David was in luck because the other car headed north.

  Hiding behind trucks and minivans, David kept them in sight. His fine-tuned reflexes aided his reactions as he threaded through traffic. He was thinking two moves ahead, anticipating the lane changes of the other car.

  David wouldn’t lose them. He couldn’t. Tasha’s life might hang on his skill and ability. So far, he thought ruefully, his protection had been virtually worthless. So far, she’d been threatened with vehicular homicide, accosted by a man with a gun and now abducted by a guy who looked as if he could play on the defensive line of the Denver Broncos.

  David’s job was to keep her safe, and he was blowing it. He should have stayed with he
r this morning, shouldn’t have trusted Jenson. In his years as a bodyguard, David had seldom made so many errors in judgment.

  He should have known better. Delia Marie was right when she told him that he wasn’t a detective. He was a bodyguard. No matter what suspicions he had about Tasha, he should have been protecting her—as he was hired to do—twenty-four hours a day.

  On Colfax, the other car turned left, toward downtown.

  David’s hands were tight on the steering wheel. He was following too close, only one car behind them, but he couldn’t risk losing sight of the other car. If he got stuck in traffic, they’d be lost. Beautiful, feisty, independent Tasha would be lost.

  If that giant hurt her…Rage swelled within David and he fought it back. He needed to be cool. He needed his wits about him. But if that creep harmed one hair on her head, David swore he’d track the bastard down. He’d pay, dammit. He’d pay for frightening Tasha.

  The other car made an unexpected swerve into the circular drive around the gold-domed state capitol building. Recklessly, David followed. He slowed, stopped.

  The cream-colored sedan had also halted. Tasha got out, and the car drove away.

  She stumbled forward a few steps and looked around as if she’d just landed on a strange planet. Her gaily striped red-and-white blouse and denim miniskirt seemed crumpled. Her shimmering red crystal earrings contrasted with the dull pallor of her complexion.

  David whipped into a parking place. She was all right! Relief flooded through him. Now, he could go to her, pull her into his arms, reassure her. He’d make damn sure that no one ever threatened her again.

  He was halfway out of his car when he saw Tasha undergo a stunning transformation. It was as if she suddenly regained her spunk. She threw back her shoulders. Her step became more confident as she approached a sophisticated blond woman, dressed all in red.

  Unsmiling, the two women shook hands. Side by side, they began to stroll slowly. Was this a predesignated meeting? Who was the woman that Tasha had met? They put their heads together. Then they both laughed.

  There wasn’t time for a major disguise, but David needed to get close and find out what was being said without Tasha knowing that he was eavesdropping. Dark Ray?Ban sunglasses. His white shirt, unbuttoned, over his T-shirt. A baseball cap, turned backward on his head. He left his shoulder holster in the car, but took his camera. He’d be a tourist, snapping photographs of the capitol.

  The two women sat on a black wrought-iron bench.

  Subtly keeping outside their peripheral vision, David eased within listening range.

  “I knew you were planning a heist,” said the woman in red. “I knew from the moment I started my research and I saw a glimpse of you in a photograph by your store. I recognized you immediately. After all, we did spend quite a lot of time together in SoHo.”

  “Very clever, Cense.” Tasha’s voice was calm. “Did you know that Inspector Henning is here?”

  “He’s such a snake!”

  “My thoughts exactly. Reptilian.”

  The woman in red, Cerise, rose to her feet. “Let’s walk. I find it easier to think when I’m in motion.”

  When they stood, David snapped photos. He drew no conclusions, but it sounded as if these two females were putting their heads together to pull off a caper—the theft of the Sheikh’s Rubies.

  Keeping a distance, he trailed after them, catching bits of their conversation.

  “…old-fashioned security system. Concrete walls and subflooring…”

  “…alarms are manually operated. Child’s play to disarm. They aren’t even motion-activated laser…”

  “The safe itself,” said Cerise, “within the storage vault, is a rather difficult combination lock. But I believe you’re familiar with the device.”

  “Possibly.”

  “And there are two armed guards at night.”

  Tasha said firmly, “They mustn’t be hurt. You have to promise, Cerise, or I won’t have any part of this job.”

  “You have such a delightful sense of ethics. In your book, it’s all right to steal millions of dollars worth of jewels, but you put a ridiculously high value on human life. You always have. It’s gotten you into trouble before.”

  “I despise what your Mr. Green did to the man in my shop.”

  David winced. What had happened to Jenson? Was he dead?

  “Who was he?” asked Cerise.

  “My bodyguard,” Tasha said. “After Green tried to run me down with the car and Brown waved the gun in my face, I felt I needed some kind of backup.”

  “What about that cute boyfriend who spent last night at your apartment?”

  “He is adorable, isn’t he? Not very bright, but with a body like that, who cares?”

  A slow heat simmered in David’s belly. Not very bright? Maybe she was right. He sure as hell didn’t feel intelligent at this moment.

  Tasha continued, “David came as a surprise visit. He’s from New York, thinking about relocating to Denver. I’ll keep him around for a few more days.”

  “Don’t let him get in the way.”

  “I won’t,” Tasha said to her friend in red. “No man is worth a million and a half.”

  “We have to talk about that split, Stacey.”

  Stacey? David paused and let them move away from him. Why had Cerise called her Stacey? If he remembered correctly, Stacey, short for Anastasia, was the name of Tasha’s sister.

  The two women sauntered casually around the capitol, chatting with the nonchalance of a couple of old friends. No one would guess, by looking at them, that they were discussing a multimillion-dollar jewel heist.

  David sure as hell hadn’t guessed. Though last night Henning had warned him that she was a cat burglar, he hadn’t believed that she was a criminal. Maybe, in his head, he’d known that a Scotland Yard inspector would have no reason to lie. But, in his heart, he’d been willing to listen to her stories. He’d admired her spunk, mistaken her bravery for innocence. He’d been tricked by her huge, liquid brown eyes, taken in by her charm.

  His jaw tensed. His rear molars ground together as he recalled last night when he kissed her irresistible lips. What a jerk he’d been! She’d played him like a hooked trout.

  Disgusted with himself, he turned away from the capitol lawn. He’d heard enough. Leaving the two thieves, he went back to his car and returned to Bloom’s.

  The best he could do, right now, was damage control. As soon as possible, he would call Delia Marie, inform her of circumstances and remove himself from the job. PEI wouldn’t want to be caught protecting a thief.

  At the flower shop, he saw an ambulance parked by the rear door. The lights weren’t on. The siren held silence. Either this was a good sign or a very bad one.

  When David hurried inside, he heard Jenson’s voice, complaining as usual.

  “I can walk,” said Jenson. “It’s my arm that’s busted, not my leg.”

  A young paramedic tried to reason with him. “Sir, you’ve had a concussion.”

  “This little bump on the noggin? Ain’t nothing to worry about. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not ride in your ambulance. I’ll catch a cab to the hospital.”

  David took in the situation at a glance. Jenson slumped in the chair by the door. A splint held his right arm straight. White gauze bandages swathed his head.

  At the front counter, he caught a glimpse of Mandy. She actually looked worse than Jenson. A greenish hue tinted the pale skin of her cheeks. Her hair dangled in limp strands. Her hands clenched in fists, kneading the voluminous black fabric of her jumper.

  David went to her. “Mandy? Are you okay?”

  “It hurts,” she whispered. “My stomach hurts.”

  “Are you going into labor?”

  “How should I know? I’ve never had a baby before.” Her eyes squeezed shut in a grimace. “I can’t be going into labor. Tasha was supposed to be with me. Where is she?”

  “She’s fine.” Depending upon the definition of the word. A fi
ne jewel thief? “Don’t you worry about Tasha.”

  “This is the worst day of my life,” she said. “I came back here after lunch and I found that Jenson guy moaning in the back, and his head was all bloody. I called 911, but it took them forever to get here.”

  She clutched her pregnant belly. “Ow!”

  “Hey!” he shouted to the paramedics. “You’ve got a real emergency over here. This woman is going into labor.”

  “No,” Mandy groaned, “I can’t be. It isn’t time.”

  “You’re going to the hospital,” David said. His anger at Tasha vanished in a surge of masculine helplessness. Poor Mandy was in pain, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. David swallowed hard. He didn’t know nothing about birthing no babies. Frantically, he waved to the ambulance staff. “What’s the matter with you people? Get the hell over here!”

  “Calm down.” It was Tasha’s voice. She strode through the front door and went directly to Mandy’s side.

  “I’m here, Mandy. Everything will be just fine.”

  “It hurts, Tasha.”

  “You’re having a contraction. Remember? They talked about contractions in the birthing class. It’s your muscles getting ready to have a baby.”

  “Make it stop.”

  “The pain is going to pass. Try to breathe through it, okay?” She stroked Mandy’s forehead. “There, it’s starting to ease, isn’t it?”

  Mandy sighed. “I do feel better.”

  “You’ll be great!”

  “Wish I thought so.” Her eyes were wet with tears, but she forced a grin. “I like your earrings. They look like the Sheikh’s Rubies.”

  “They’re only red crystal, but I wish they were rubies. I’d give them all to you. For the baby.”

  “I’m scared, Tasha.”

  “It’s all right to be scared.” She held the girl’s face in her small delicate hands. Tasha’s smile was the perfect combination of encouragement and empathy. “You’re going to have this baby, Mandy. Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll get you to the hospital.”

  “Okay.”

  “Let’s put her in the ambulance,” David said. “Come on, let’s do it.”