The Bodyguard. Lena DiazЧитать онлайн книгу.
started toward the bed to check on Caroline, when the door opened again.
A rail-thin woman in a coal-black suit jacket and skirt hurried inside, her high heels clicking against the hard floor. She stopped when she saw Luke, her brows rising.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
He positioned himself between her and the bed. “Who are you?” he countered.
If anything, her brows arched even higher. “Leslie Harrison, Mrs. Ashton’s attorney and friend. I know you aren’t family, so again, who are you and what are you doing in her room?”
“I’m a friend,” he said, not seeing any reason to tell her otherwise.
She snorted. “Caroline doesn’t have any friends.”
“I thought you were her friend.”
Her lips compressed.
“Interesting friend,” he continued. “She’s been in the hospital for several days and this is the first time I’ve seen you here.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but a moan from the bed stopped her.
The nurse rose from her chair to check on the patient.
Caroline’s face tightened as if she was in pain, but her eyes remained closed.
Deciding the game of one-upmanship wasn’t worth playing, Luke introduced himself. “I’m Luke Dawson. Mrs. Ashton hired me as her bodyguard. I was with her when we discovered her husband’s body.”
A look of surprise flashed across the lawyer’s face. “She hired a bodyguard?”
“Yes. Apparently, she realized she was in danger. But apparently...you didn’t? Did you know about the abuse?”
The only change in her expression was a subtle tightening of the tiny lines at the corners of her eyes.
She did know.
“How long?” he demanded.
“How long what?”
“How long did you know she was being beaten by her husband? And why didn’t you report him to the police?”
“None of this is any of your business,” she snapped. “Get out, Mr. Dawson. I’m the closest thing in this town to family that Caroline has, and I assure you if I have to call Security, they’ll take my side—someone who has known her for years—over the side of a man she hired a few days ago. I’m her attorney and the executor of the late Mr. Ashton’s estate. I have every right to be here. You have none. I repeat, get out.”
The nurse looked back and forth between them. Behind her, Caroline’s brow furrowed again, and her lips whitened. She was obviously in pain. The tug-of-war between Luke and the lawyer was distracting the nurse from taking care of her.
“All right,” Luke said. “I’ll go. For now. Just make sure that when you speak to Mrs. Ashton you warn her not to talk to the police without a criminal attorney present—not a civil attorney like yourself. The police are investigating her as a suspect and could misconstrue anything she says.”
“I assure you, I don’t need your advice about how to take care of my client.” Leslie swept past him to the nurse and peppered her with questions.
Luke reluctantly left the room. He might have lost this battle, but he wasn’t leaving Caroline alone for long. He’d never met Leslie Harrison before, but he didn’t get good vibes from her. And her lack of concern for her alleged friend showed in the fact that she hadn’t visited or called since Caroline had been brought into the emergency room. She didn’t strike him as the kind of friend Caroline needed right now.
He took the elevator to the first floor and went outside to use his cell phone. The man he needed to talk to wasn’t someone he spoke to very often. In fact, it had been years since the last time their paths had crossed, so he had to call a few friends to ferret out the unlisted number. Finally, he programmed it into his phone and pressed the call button.
The phone rang twice. Then, “Alex Buchanan.”
“Alex, this is Luke Dawson.”
“Luke.” His voice mirrored his surprise. “Tell me you’re not calling me to bail one of your clients out of jail again. I hung my hat up on that kind of work years ago.”
“Not this time. I’m at Memorial University Medical Center visiting a friend. Are you still a practicing attorney, or are you retired?”
“I keep my license active, but I only take cases for family or friends.”
“How about friends of friends?”
“Depends on who they are and what kind of trouble they’re in. Who’s your friend?”
“Caroline Ashton.”
The phone went silent.
“Alex? You still there?”
“I’m here.”
“Well? Will you help or not?”
A deep sigh sounded through the phone. “Bring me up to speed while I dust off a suit.”
* * *
THE NURSE HELPED Caroline hobble from the bathroom to the bed. The pain in Caroline’s belly was much better than before, so she wasn’t about to complain at the sharp jolt that shot through her when the nurse helped her swing her feet up onto the bed. She drew several shallow breaths until the twinge passed, then collapsed against the pillows.
“Are you sure you’re ready for your friend to come back inside?” the nurse asked, patting Caroline’s hand and looking at her with concern. “The doctor’s visit really seemed to wear you out. If you want to rest a bit, I can make sure no one bothers you.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m okay. Please tell Leslie she can come back in now.”
“Very well. She’s in the waiting room. I’ll tell her. But if she overtires you, or if the pain gets worse, press the call button.”
“I will. Thank you.”
The nurse left. A few minutes later the tap-tap of Leslie’s heels sounded outside the room. The door opened and she burst inside, with three men following her.
Caroline clutched the sheets as Leslie and a stranger she’d never met moved to her left side, while the remaining two men—Daniel and Grant, her husband’s brothers—caged her in on the other side of the bed.
“Leslie, I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why are Daniel and Grant here?”
“Our brother is dead,” Grant sneered. “We have a right to find out what happened.”
Leslie’s lip curled with distaste. “Unfortunately, they were in the waiting room, demanding to see you. When Detective Cornell and I headed here, they followed like lapdogs.”
Grant looked as if he wanted to leap across the bed and take a swing at Leslie. Daniel’s face turned a light shade of pink, as if he was embarrassed at his brother’s behavior.
The man beside Leslie held up his hand. “Quiet, everyone. Mrs. Ashton, I’m Detective Cornell with Chatham County Metro P.D. If you’re feeling up to it, I have some questions for you.” He glanced at the others, the look on his face showing displeasure. “Your family insisted on coming in with me, but I can ask them to step outside. Or, if you prefer,” he said, his voice sounding grudging, “I can wait in the hall until you speak to them privately.”
“No.” She winced at how loud her voice sounded in the small room. “That is, I’d prefer not to have these other men here, if that’s okay.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Grant said.
“Yes. You are.” Luke Dawson’s deep voice rang out from the open doorway. He strode