That Kind of Special Read online

  “From what he’s told me, he only works security when the Seahawks play.” Doreen shrugged. “It’s a bet he won off Trent, and in the off season, he’s Trent’s driver. Last year, Trent won and worked during the games.”

  Katina scraped her teeth over her lip. “So, he never goes on anything dangerous?”

  “No, he says the hardest thing about doing the home games is watching everyone else chug beer while he’s freezing his ass off.” Doreen laughed. “Is that what this is about? You don’t like what Trent does for a living?”

  Katina nodded. “He’s gone on two assignments since I met him. I thought it would get easier, but I worry. The last one he did, he couldn’t even tell me who he was running security on or where he was going—not that I needed to know—but when he walked out of the house with enough arsenal to wage his own war, what am I supposed to think? I don’t want to lose him right after just finding him.”

  “Oh, my God. You love him,” Doreen whispered.

  She stopped pacing. “Yeah, without a doubt.”

  Doreen grinned, her hand pressed to her chest. “I knew it would be this way for you.”

  “What way?”

  “When you finally figured out what you were looking for, you’d fall deeply in love. The kind of love we’ve dreamed about since junior high.” Doreen slouched farther down on the couch. “This is so romantic. I’m thrilled for you.”

  “Thanks.” Katina smiled.

  “Should I tell you I saw this coming years ago? You were just holding out for a Trent in your life,” Doreen said.

  Katina laughed. “No.”

  “Listen, girlfriend. I know Trent’s occupation is freaky scary, but you have to admit there’s something about him that drives him to be the best in business. He’s old. He’s—”

  “Stop that.” She stretched and swatted Doreen’s leg. “He’s older, not old.”

  “Okay, okay. You know what I mean. The guy is tough and doesn’t take shit from anyone, not even you.”

  That was true. He had a reason for the way he stood firm on being safe and keeping others protected. Not wanting to share Trent’s experience dealing with his sister with Doreen, because it wasn’t her story to tell, she sighed. “I still think we’re missing something in this room.”

  “I brought all our bags in after Tim dropped us off,” Doreen said. “There can’t be anything else. I think it looks good in here. One of our better projects.”

  She studied the couch. “The pillows!”

  “What pillows?”

  “Remember, I told you I bought fabric at the market six weeks ago and recovered those ugly beige throw pillows Celine had in here.” She picked up her cell. “I’ll call Tim and see if he can come over and take me back to my apartment, and then we can call this job done.”

  “He can’t come. We told him to pick us up at six, so he was going to take the limo in to have a lube job or whatever they do to cars.” Doreen stood. “Isn’t your car at Trent’s?”

  “Yeah.” Katina stuck out her lip and blew her bangs out of her eyes. “But I promised Trent I wouldn’t go anywhere alone. Maybe I should call him and see if he can take a break from work.”

  “That’s stupid.” Doreen held out her hand. “Give me your keys, and I’ll jog the half mile to Trent’s, pick up your car, and then go to your apartment. I’ll be back in an hour at the most.”

  “I don’t know…” She glanced at the phone, thought better of bothering Trent, and reached for her bag. “Okay, but hurry.”

  “Sheesh, Trent’s got you paranoid.” Doreen shook her head. “Relax. This is Seattle, and we’re in the swankiest neighborhood. Trent will never know, and if he finds out, you’ve done nothing wrong. I’ll take the blame. He knows he has no say over what I do.”

  “Okay.” She let out her breath. “I’ll clean up around here while I wait, and maybe we can get out of here early.”

  “Deal.” Doreen paused on her way out of the room. “Hey, Kat?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you,” Doreen said.

  “For what?”

  Doreen grinned. “The job, the new boyfriend, and just about every good thing that’s ever happened to me in my life.”

  Katina smiled. “You’re welcome, but you did it on your own. You’re the best. Now get out of here. You’re going to start getting sentimental, and I don’t want to cry.”

  Doreen’s friendship meant everything to her. She walked over to the pile of empty bags. If anyone was thankful, she was for having Doreen in her life.

  For the next half hour, she threw herself into tidying up the room. She unplugged the vacuum hose from the wall outlet and returned it to the utility room. When she returned to the rec room, her phone rang. Thinking it was Doreen, she answered without looking at the screen. “‘Lo?”

  “Kat. I’m so glad I caught you,” said Colby.

  “Colby. Stop calling.” She pushed the button to disconnect the call. She shivered. He was really starting to piss her off. Not wanting to deal with him today, she shut off her phone. “Take a hint, dude,” she mumbled to the empty room.

  * * * *

  Trent slammed the desk drawer in his office shut. Two hours of paperwork, because of one claim that Rodrigues put a play on a woman during coverage of the Republican Party’s convention put him in a bad mood. He pushed the intercom button.

  “Barbara, page Rodrigues and Thompson to my office, and tell them to get their asses in here. Pronto.” He turned and walked back to his desk.

  The two men came through the door minutes later, elbowing each other. Sam Rodrigues, a compact bulldog, took on the duty of bodyguard while out on assignment. Phil Thompson was the brains behind the Durango team, more useful behind the computer and cracking codes.

  “Take a seat.” He clasped his hands behind his head, and leaned back in the chair. “Which one of you wants to explain about Mrs. Vanessa Keegan, Senator Keegan’s wife?”

  Thompson raised his brows but otherwise didn’t make a sign that he even knew the name Keegan. Rodrigues grimaced. Trent nailed the younger man with a look. Bingo.

  “Make it good, because I spent my afternoon filling out paperwork promising that this kind of behavior would never happen again from a Bauer Enterprise employee,” he said.

  Rodrigues cleared his throat. “I knew better, boss.”

  “Did you come on to her while on the job?”

  “Yes.” Rodrigues shifted in the chair.

  “Did you instigate contact with her?”

  Rodrigues’s head snapped up. “No, sir.”

  Trent had figured. His men were highly trained, but he’d experienced the way women had no qualms about coming on to the guy in suit and tie, wearing a handgun, and went out of his way to appear standoffish. Certain females, usually married, saw a bodyguard as a safe way to get some attention from men other than their husbands.

  Trent nodded. “Here’s the paperwork. Take it home with you, read it, and bring it back signed.”

  “I’m not fired?” Rodrigues swept the papers up and stood.

  “You’re not the first man to be the object of a woman’s attention. I don’t condone what you did, and I hope you’ve learned that while you’re on the job, your focus is on your details. This is your first written warning, and it will go in your file,” he said.

  Rodrigues held out his hand. “Thank you, sir. I won’t screw up again.”

  “If you do, you’ll be looking for another job. You’ve got promise, Rodrigues, but I don’t condone that kind of behavior on a case. If you put the moves on her, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’d be finished.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  Trent shook the offered hand, and then motioned for them to go. “Shut the door when you leave.”

  Before he could sit back down, his cell vibrated in his pocket. He removed the phone, eyed the screen, and frowned. “Bauer here.”

  “Mr. Bauer, this is Fred Jackson at Skyrise. You asked me to call you directly if I notic
ed anything suspicious with Ms. Lindtson’s apartment.”

  His chest tightened, and he braced himself on the edge of the desk. “What’s wrong?”

  “Probably nothing.” Fred paused. “A gentleman friend of Ms. Lindtson’s walked past me a half hour ago. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. He’s been here before, and I’ve seen him with Ms. Lindtson on occasion.”

  Fuck. “Details, Jackson.”

  “Usually, I would know if Ms. Lindtson is home, but I was pulled away from the desk earlier, and I might have missed her return. Sir, the gentleman hasn’t walked out of the building. I’ve stood at the door, waiting the whole time. I sent one of our janitors up to her floor, and the man isn’t anywhere. I know he hasn’t walked out. I tried ringing Ms. Lindtson’s apartment, and it goes directly to her answering machine.” Fred inhaled loudly. “You wanted to know if anyone entered the apartment, and I think the answer is yes.”

  “Well done, Jackson.” He picked up his revolver from the desk and slipped it into the holster strapped to his chest, grabbed his keys, and headed for the door. “Do not move. Whatever happens, you do not move from that front door. I’ll be there in less than ten minutes.”

  He disconnected and instantly punched the key to ring Katina’s cell. Pick up, baby. Pick up.

  The ringing quit after the sixth time and went to voice mail.

  Fuck.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Katina stood outside the Mitchell house, pacing the sidewalk, her bags lined up beside her. She turned on the phone and called Doreen, left a message, and cussed under her breath.

  It was past four o’clock, and Doreen should’ve been here forty-five minutes ago. She gazed at her phone again, ignoring the blinking icon letting her know she had voice mails. It was probably Colby leaving her message after message again.

  She should call Trent. Though he was going to be mad. With today being Friday, her decision to let Doreen go alone would ruin the mood for the weekend if Trent had to come to the rescue. She knew better. Trent ordered her to use Tim when she needed to drive while she was working alone, and he’d be furious to find out she’d ignored his wishes.

  But her car could’ve broken down, and Doreen might be stranded. She pushed speed dial, steeling herself for a long lecture from Trent.

  He answered on the first ring. “Katina, are you okay?”

  She frowned. “Yeah. I just wanted—”

  “Where the fuck are you?”

  Something was off. Trent’s breathing came heavy over the phone. “Uh…outside the Mitchells’ house. Why?”

  “Stay there. I’m going to have one of my men come pick you up. He’ll show you identification. Do not go with anyone else. Do you understand me?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I hear you, but what’s going on?”

  “Baby, just do what I ask, okay? The driver will bring you to me,” he said. “Please, Kat, this is important.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

  It took forever for a black sedan to pull up in front of the Mitchells’ house. A tall, well-built man in his thirties with a crew cut climbed out of the car, extracting his wallet. She cupped her elbows in her hands.

  “Ms. Lindtson?” He held out a card. “Bruce Satchel. Trent asked me to take you to him.”

  “Is he okay?”

  He nodded. “He’s fine, miss.”

  “Okay.” She quickly read the card and then pointed at her things. “I can’t leave everything here. Could we put them in the trunk real fast?”

  He nodded. “Sure. Go ahead and get in, buckle up, and I’ll see to your bags.”

  Within minutes, they were flying down the backstreets breaking all kinds of traffic laws. She clasped her hands together, trying to stop shaking. Something was definitely wrong. “Are you sure nothing happened and you just don’t want to tell me? Can you swear to me that Trent is okay?”

  “Yes, miss.” He continued staring at the road.

  “Are you sure?” She moistened her lips. “He didn’t get hurt?”

  “No.” Bruce turned and smiled at her. “He’s fine and waiting for you at your apartment.”

  Understanding came swiftly. She cried out, “Oh, God, hurry. Hurry. It’s Doreen.”

  Bruce sped up, throwing an arm in front of her and pinning her to the seat. The car swung around the corner, and she searched the block looking for an ambulance, a police car, anything. If Doreen had crashed the car or fallen down the stairs—as she was known to take the stairs instead of the elevator—she needed help.

  “Stop,” she yelled, unlatching her seat belt.

  The moment the car came to a stop in front of her building, she was out of the car despite Bruce calling her name. She ran to the double front doors. Where was Doreen?

  Trent walked out. She rushed toward him, sobbing now that she was here, Trent was here, and knowing something awful must’ve happened to Doreen. He swept her into his arms, holding her from getting past him.

  “Where is she?” She fisted his shirt, shaking him. “I need to go to her.”

  “Baby. Stop. I need to ask you a few questions, and then I’ll tell you what we know.” He held her face in his two hands. “Can you do that for me?”

  She nodded.

  “Good.” He took a deep breath. “I take it Doreen left the job?”

  She nodded. “Over two hours ago. She drove my car. She was coming here to pick up those pillows I made with the fabric you bought for me. Remember?”

  “Yeah, baby. I remember.” He clasped her wrist and pulled his phone out of his pocket with the other hand. “Tim? It’s been affirmed. Hold in position until I get there…” He paused. “That’s an order, Tim. Stand down.”

  “What’s going on?” She grabbed his arm.

  “Kat, I need you to be honest with me, okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said.

  “Did you set the dead bolt this morning when you went to your apartment to pick up your supplies for work?” he asked, studying her.

  “Trent, I—”

  “This is important.” His grip on her tightened. “Do you remember if you used the key to lock it before you walked down the hall?”

  She squeezed her eyes closed. She couldn’t remember. Doreen had called, hurrying her to the Mitchells because she’d overslept at Trent’s and was running late. She might’ve locked the dead bolt. She whimpered, “No, no, I didn’t.”

  “Okay.” He held on to her. “Be strong, baby. Can you do that for me?”

  “Doreen?” She nodded. “Please. Just tell me.”

  “We believe your ex-boyfriend broke into your apartment and is keeping Doreen from coming out. Until you called, I thought it was you in there with him.” He swallowed hard. “Right now, I’m going to walk you to the office, and you’re going to stay put. Whatever you hear or see, you do not come out. Do you understand?”

  She pulled on him. “Maybe she’s not here. My car…my car might’ve broken down. I-it was making a weird noise last week, but I never had it checked out.”

  “Baby.” He stroked her face. “Doreen’s in there.”

  “How do you know?”

  “She’s in there,” he whispered.

  “Then, I’ll go get her.” She pushed against him.

  He wrapped his arm around her, holding her to his side. She scrambled to keep up with his long strides. Inside, he led her to the office, where he motioned two men she didn’t recognize to take care of her.

  “Wait.” She clutched Trent’s shirt. “Let me help, please. She’s my best friend. This is my fault. I let her go alone.”

  “Katina.” He pulled her hands off him. “You’re going to have to trust me. Go. Stay with my men, and wait for me. I’ll help Doreen, but I need to move on this. We waited on calling the police until we found out more information, but they’re on the way. We’ve got five minutes, maybe ten if we’re lucky. Once they arrive, my hands are tied. You’re going to have to do what I’m asking of you. Can you do that?”

  She
nodded. “Y-yes.”

  “Good girl.” He lifted his chin at the others and watched as she walked into the office.

  Police sirens grew louder. Her chest tightened, and she swayed, dizzy. Doreen was her best friend. This can’t be happening.

  A chair materialized beside her, and hands forced her to sit down. She buried her face in her palms. Please, God. Let Doreen be okay. Let Trent be okay. Bring them back to me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The second Trent reached the top of the stairwell, Tim moved toward the door. He slammed Tim against the railing in his struggle to keep him back and off the seventh floor. “Check yourself.”

  “I’m going after her.” Tim ground his teeth together and pushed back. “You can’t stop me.”

  “You’re too close to the subject—”

  “Doreen, dammit. It’s Doreen.” Tim fisted his hands.

  “The police are downstairs. Rodrigues is filling them in and stalling for us. We have only a couple minutes to get in there, before law enforcement will make us stand down,” Trent said.

  Tim’s jaw hardened, and he nodded.

  Trent lowered his voice. “The Durango team will enter the apartment. If you break orders, you’re off the team. I won’t have you jeopardizing Doreen’s life or the team.”

  “Fuck you,” Tim bit off.

  Threats and anger meant nothing between them. He knew Tim as well as he knew himself. If it were Katina in Doreen’s position, nobody would stop him from barging into the room.

  His job, his life, his will to do things by the book meant nothing when a loved one’s life was at stake. He understood, but he would also keep Tim safe. Tomorrow they could kick each other’s ass. Today, he had a life to save.

  “I’ll bring her right to you. But let me do my job. Think of Doreen, and what’s best for her.” He hooked his hand around the back of Tim’s neck. “I give you my word, bro.”

  Tim scowled, but Trent felt the slight nod under his hand telling him Tim would stay back. He stepped away, and with one last look at Tim, he moved out into the hallway.

  This case was personal, and he wasn’t going to let his team take charge.