Christmas Bodyguard (10 page)

As Mary took the tops off of several bins full of decorations, Elizabeth didn't think the holidays would be a quiet time in the Caulder household.

“Does this bother you?” Slade whispered close to her ear.

His breath on her neck rippled down her length. “Why do you ask that?”

“You went pale when you saw all this.” He gestured toward the plastic containers.

“There's a lot here.”

“I have a big house, and that isn't it.”

She angled her head toward him, hoping she'd wiped all expression from her face, but when she glimpsed the interest in his eyes, their color like molten silver, her mind went blank, and she could tell from the flare in his gaze that her expression didn't go neutral. She glanced toward the staircase.

Slade inched even closer. “Thinking of escaping upstairs?”

Intensity vibrated between them. She did want to escape, not just because of the decorating, but because she didn't like the feelings Slade's nearness generated in her. As though she couldn't control her responses to him. As though they were more than employer/employee. As though there weren't someone out there wanting to harm Abbey and possibly him—even her.

The doorbell rang. Elizabeth flinched, not expecting the sound. Her hand went to her holster. Joshua started forward to answer the door, but Mary moved faster, reaching
for the knob first. Joshua's hand covered hers, and Mary blushed.

“We're going to need some help since we're behind schedule, so I invited Jake, Cindy and Brody to supper and to help get us ready for Christmas.” Mary swung the door wide, not giving Joshua time to check the peephole.

As the Colemans entered, Joshua murmured to Mary, “Always check who's at the door even if you're expecting someone.”

Mary stabbed him with a look. “You've got this place locked down tighter than a cookie in a toddler's fist.”

Elizabeth smiled as she heard her uncle reply, “Nothing is one hundred percent secure, and I'm being paid to protect you all, so let me do my job.”

The sound of Mary's huff wafted to Elizabeth as she turned away. Her gaze collided with Slade's amused one.

He leaned closer, his scent of the outdoors encasing her in memories of the afternoon riding with him. “Now you'll have to stay since Brody is here.”

“I thought you'd cleared him.”

“As Joshua just pointed out, you can't be too cautious.”

“You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?” Mere inches separated their mouths, and Elizabeth couldn't stop thinking about that.

As Mary began giving out bins and directions on what to do, Slade whispered, “What about the holidays bothers you?”

“The commercial aspects of Christmas,” she said quickly, using her pat statement for whenever anyone asked her.

Slade studied her face for a long moment. “I'm sure that generic answer is part of it, but that's not all.”

“We could use your help, Slade, Elizabeth.” Mary
pointed to two containers at her feet. “These go in the den. Brody has gone with Jake to get the tree from storage. After supper I thought we would put the ornaments on the tree, but we've got a lot to do before that.”

“You use a fake tree?” Elizabeth asked as she hefted her bin and walked toward the den.

“According to Mary, a fake tree can stay up longer and isn't as messy.” He stopped just outside the entrance into the room. “But really, she's allergic to pine. Catherine was, too, so we have always had an artificial one.”

“That makes sense if you're into all this.” Elizabeth moved through the doorway first, the whole time conscious of Slade's attention on her. This was going to be a long evening.

 

When supper was finished and most of the garlands and other decorations were up, Slade helped Mary by carrying a tray of hot chocolate into the den while she brought her oatmeal-raisin cookies. The past few hours as he'd helped to get the house ready for the Christmas holiday, he'd managed mostly to forget someone had targeted his daughter, even gone after Elizabeth because she was protecting Abbey. But then he would catch sight of Joshua or Elizabeth, wearing their guns in holsters at their waists, and the whole past week would crash down upon him.

Mary set the goodies on the game table. “Are you all ready to tackle the tree? We've got tons of ornaments to put up.”

Elizabeth's eyes grew round as she took in the multiple containers of Christmas balls. “I know you have a large tree, but you're gonna need at least one or two more for all these.” She swept her arm across her body.

“Which reminds me, I bought a new tree for the living room. Our ornament collection keeps growing each year. Elizabeth is right. This one—” Mary flipped her hand
toward the ten-foot artificial pine standing in the corner near the fireplace “—won't hold them all anymore. Jake, Brody, can you go get the box in the garage and put that one together in the living room in front of the large picture window?”

“Yep,” Jake said and sauntered out of the den with his brother.

Cindy ambled toward the game table, took a deep breath and said, “This looks and smells delicious. Jake has raved about your hot chocolate on more than one occasion. I can't wait to try it.”

Mary picked up a large mug with chocolate syrup drizzled over a thick mound of whipped cream. “Here, enjoy. Take a cookie, too.”

“I will. Thanks.” Jake's wife snatched up several treats and took the drink from Mary.

Mary passed out the hot chocolate. “You might let it cool a little while we get started.”

“Where do we start?” Elizabeth said to Slade, putting her mug down on a coaster on the coffee table next to her.

“Pick a box and just begin putting up the decorations.”

“No special place you want certain ones?”

“No. Wherever there's a place for one. As you'll gather, when we're through, you'll hardly be able to see the tree.”

Abbey knelt by a box with her name scribbled on top. Carefully she lifted the first ornament out.

“Catherine made those for her, giving her a couple each year. She always puts them on the tree first.”

Elizabeth faced Slade. “Ah, should we wait until she finishes?”

“No, we'd be here an extra hour if we did. You can help me put on the ones that Abbey made.”

“Are you sure? Don't you want to put them on by yourself?”

He laughed. “You haven't seen the amount.” He gestured toward two boxes.

“All of those?”

“Yep, she got into it, more than her mother. I miss Abbey making me one. She hasn't done it in several years.”

After Mary drank some of her drink, Cindy took a tentative sip of her hot chocolate, then another one before she stooped next to a container with their collection of expensive ornaments given to the family over the years.

Elizabeth looked where he was staring. “Those are beautiful.”

“Yeah, but they go on last if we have enough room. I've gotten a lot of them from suppliers, people who want my business. Family ornaments come first.” Slade watched Cindy pick up a stunning glass ball decorated with jewels and crystals.

Cindy held it up, her gaze fastening to his. “I've never seen such a gorgeous ornament.” She started to put the ball back in the container when she flinched, her face screwing up in pain.

Mary rushed toward the trash can in the corner at the same time as Cindy rose to her feet, her face going white. His mother-in-law fell short of making it as she began to throw up. Cindy bent over, the glass ball slipping from her fingers, as she also was sick. The sound of the ornament shattering propelled Slade into action. Elizabeth was already halfway to Cindy.

He moved toward Mary. Two people sick at the same time. What was going on? With all that had happened lately, a sense of foreboding inundated Slade as he assisted Mary toward the hallway.

 

Hilda emerged from Mary's bedroom.

Flanked by Slade and Abbey, Elizabeth pushed off the wall outside the older woman's suite. “How is she?”

Hilda glanced toward the closed door. “Fine, now. She's not sure what happened. She's tired and going to rest.”

“Can I go see her?” Abbey asked, worry furrowing her forehead.

“Just a moment. She may already be asleep.”

“Thanks, Hilda, for helping Mary.” While his daughter went in to see her grandmother, Slade grabbed Elizabeth's hand. “We need to talk.”

As he descended the staircase to the first floor, his fingers still around hers, he slanted a look toward her. “Could what happened in the den be connected to the other threats and attacks?”

Joshua, waiting at the bottom of the steps, answered. “I intend to find out. I collected a sample of the hot chocolate they drank—actually, a little from all the mugs, as well as other things we ate and drank. But since none of us got sick but Mary and Cindy, I'm pretty sure whatever did this was in the hot chocolate. I'll have it checked for poison, but it makes me think of syrup of ipecac. I knew someone who was bulimic and used that. Happens quickly. Usually a person feels okay afterwards, just maybe a little lethargic.”

Slade's cell rang, and he quickly answered it. “So she's all right, then.” He listened, then said, “Good. Thanks, Jake, for letting me know. Tell Cindy she doesn't need to worry about the ornament. It can be replaced.” When he hung up, he said to Joshua and Elizabeth, “Cindy was more worried about breaking the expensive decoration than the fact that she threw up. I need answers. Fast.”

“It's a holiday weekend, but I can call in a favor and get the samples analyzed quickly. We should have some idea what got into the drink by tomorrow. I'm calling my partner and having him come pick up the samples.” Joshua walked away from them as he withdrew his phone.

“How did this happen?” Pacing, Slade plowed his fingers through his hair.

“A good possibility is that the pantry was tampered with when the person broke into the house.”

Slade stopped and spun toward her. “Then we need to throw out all the food that was open. I can't take the chance something else has been doctored.”

“Let's wait until we get the lab results back.”

Slade glanced up the stairs. “How's Gram?”

Abbey came down the steps. “She made me promise we would finish decorating the tree. I told her we would.”

“It's not the same without her,” Slade said.

“She's coming down in a little while and told me she expected the tree at least half completed by then.” Abbey moved toward the den, but before disappearing inside the room, she peered back at her dad and Elizabeth. “Are you two coming? We need to get Joshua and Hilda, too. I don't know how she thinks we can get it done with so few people.”

When Abbey vanished into the den, Elizabeth shook her head. “Wouldn't it be easier to pay someone to decorate the house?”

“Don't ask that question in front of Mary or Abbey. I did once, and believe me, I never will again.” Slade clasped her arm and tugged her down the hallway. “Come on. This will be fun.”

 

After the incident with Mary and Cindy getting sick, and the rest of the evening spent decorating the house for Christmas, exhaustion wrapped about Elizabeth. No matter how hard she tried not to think of her childhood, she felt deluged with memories. Standing in the doorway into the den where the ten-foot artificial pine stood, she remembered a time when she had put ornaments on her family tree. Everything had to be placed in a certain spot, calculated by her father. And no homemade ornaments or balls that he considered inferior could be displayed. Perfection, according to her father's standard, was important even with something like holiday decorations.

Elizabeth searched out the loaded tree set up in the corner of the den a few feet from the fireplace. Earlier, lights had blazed from the tree, illuminating the whole room. Now in the shadows, she couldn't see the ornaments, but she wouldn't forget them anytime soon. Most of them were homemade. Each of them had a story behind it—where it came from, why it was important, who gave it to the family. And as they were put on the tree wherever anyone wanted, the story was recalled either by Abbey, Slade or Mary, who had been able to join them halfway through decorating the pine.

Again she could see Abbey climbing the tall ladder to place the star at the top. Tears clouded the teen's eyes as Mary talked about how long it took for Catherine to craft the glittering star. Elizabeth chanced a glance toward Slade as he watched his daughter secure it on the top limb. As if he knew she was looking at him, his gaze bound with hers.

The vulnerability she'd expected to see in him with the rush of memories concerning his wife wasn't visible. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and the smile he sent her
blazed a path through her, much like the Christmas lights did through the den.

Pivoting away from the doorway, Elizabeth headed toward the pool, where she'd been going when she'd paused at the entrance. She needed to exercise—long and hard. The pool enclosure had a bank of windows across the back with skylights in the ceiling. The security lamps from outside illuminated the pool in dapples of lights. After she removed her terry cloth cover-up, she slipped into the water and began her laps.

Thirty minutes later, winded, she swam to the side and hoisted herself out of the pool, then sat on the edge with her feet dangling in the water. She tried to take in all that had happened in the past week. First the wreck, then the break-in and the cut brake line on her car. Now it might be that the person behind all this had put something in the food to make people in the household sick. Was it poison, a mild one that didn't kill but heightened the fear already in place? Or, was it what Joshua suspected, syrup of ipecac? She hoped they had some answers tomorrow. At least they should be able to learn what had happened. The “when” would be more difficult to discern. And if it was put in the food at the time of the break-in, what else had they not found yet that could hurt someone?