Defending the Duchess (8 page)

“I don’t think so. The case settled out of court. It was all very straightforward—that’s why they assigned it to me even though I was new.” She pressed her fingertips to her temples and shook her head. “I can’t imagine how Scott would be involved, or what anyone’s motive might have been for killing Fletcher.”

“I can’t imagine the motive for the attacks against you,” Linus said, “but I don’t think we’re going to stop them until we figure it out.”

“So, now what? Should we drive to Scott’s house and see if he’s home?”

“That almost sounds like a decent plan, but I don’t think it would prove anything either way. He’s had plenty of time to get home by now, and even if he’s not home, that doesn’t
tell us anything.” He wasn’t sure exactly what they would do other than get a look at the man. If Scott had been one of Julia’s attackers, there was only the slightest possibility he would recognize him or recognize the bruises he’d given him. More than likely they’d just be walking into trouble. His goal was to keep Julia safe, not to endanger her further.

He struggled to find an answer.
“Do you think we should call the police?”

“And tell them what? One of my associates drives a blue Toyota, so we think he might have killed Fletcher? Do you know how many blue Toyotas there are in Seattle?”

“Almost as many as there are men who wear size twelve shoes,” Linus said with a sigh. The duchess was right. There wasn’t any point calling the police. They didn’t really have anything
to tell them.

Julia returned her attention to her phone. “There’s a connecting flight to Lydia leaving in a little over two hours with two remaining seats available.”

“Book it.” Linus realized he sounded as though he was giving the duchess an order, so he softened his tone and explained, “I don’t want anyone reserving those seats while we think about it. I need to get you out of town.
This whole mess is spiraling out of control.” He clamped his mouth shut before he could say anything more that might frighten Julia. Whatever they were up against, their opponent wasn’t above killing.

“Turn down this street until the next intersection.” Julia pointed as she finished booking the flight over the phone. “Then follow the signs to the airport.”

He turned the car toward the
airport. “I think you should urge your parents to take the next flight to Lydia.”

“I agree.” Julia sounded almost relieved that he’d suggested it. “Monica would insist on it if she knew what was going on.”

“How much do you want to tell her?”

“As little as possible, for now. There’s nothing she can do about it. She’d only worry.” Julia’s voice cracked.

Linus wasn’t sure what
he should do or say. His instinct was to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but fortunately he was driving, so that wasn’t an option. Besides, now that she knew about his past, she probably wouldn’t want him touching her. She hadn’t brought up his revelation, but he didn’t have to ask. He could imagine how much a lawyer would look down on a criminal. He should be glad she still let him guard
her.

Her next words surprised him. “Can you recite that Psalm?”

“Psalm twenty-five?”

“You said you had it memorized.”

“That’s right.” Linus kicked himself for admitting as much, especially when he wasn’t entirely certain he really did know all the words by heart. But he couldn’t refuse Julia’s request, especially if God’s Word might bring her some comfort. So he began slowly,
and couldn’t help praying the ancient words in his heart as he spoke them aloud.

“I offer my prayer to You, O Lord. My God, I trust in You. Save me from my enemies. Those who trust in You are not defeated, but those who rebel against You are defeated.”

Linus glanced at Julia just briefly before returning his attention to the road. She had her eyes pinched shut, and her face lifted up,
lit by the glow of the streetlights they passed. Though he’d feared he might not remember them all, the words poured from his soul as though he’d always known them.

“I lift my eyes to the Lord, who sets me free from the traps laid for me.”
When he glanced at Julia again, he saw she had a tear tracing a wet line down her cheek. He faltered. Should he brush the tear away, or just ignore it?

Before he could decide, he reached the end of the Psalm. The airport lay ahead. Linus let out a long sigh. He’d been drained by all that had happened that day and the emotions the scripture had stirred up inside him.

“That is so beautiful. Thank you.” Julia sniffled and pulled a tissue from her purse, swiping at the tears and clearing her throat. “Thank God you’re here with me.” She moved
her hand, brushing the tops of his fingers where he held the steering wheel.

Though her touch was fleeting, its effects lingered, burning through him along with her words. He knew the events of the day had been particularly trying. She had to be at the end of her emotional reserves. That explained why she expressed such gratitude to have him near.

Certainly it wasn’t anything more personal
than that.

Was it?

EIGHT

J
ulia sagged into a seat to wait for their flight to be called. They’d made it through security. She’d called her parents and explained why she wouldn’t be staying at their house that night, as well as urging them to head to Lydia soon.

They’d been concerned. They’d also agreed with Julia that they didn’t want to share anything more with Monica than they had, too. No
sense making the new queen worry more.

Julia plunked her carry-on into the empty seat beside her and stared at it thoughtfully, wondering if the file inside held any answers.

“Are you going to be okay if I step away for a moment?” Linus asked, looking around as if the couple with the whiny toddler or the nun in the next row of seats might pose some hidden threat.

Julia glanced around
the terminal at their fellow travelers. “I should be fine,” she assured him.

But as he walked away, she felt the tiniest bit depleted by his absence. She’d grown so used to his protective presence. What would she do if he was removed from the guard because of some long-ago criminal record? She’d been so caught off guard by his confession, and silenced by his obvious embarrassment, that she
hadn’t probed any deeper into the nature of his convictions.

What had he done that was so bad he could be fired because of it?

Should she be afraid of him? Maybe she ought to feel apprehensive around him, but Linus had such a gentle spirit in spite of his imposing stature. He was a Christian man of integrity and conviction—she knew that as much from his actions as she did from the way
he’d recited the Psalm. He was a great guard. It wouldn’t be fair for him to lose his position on the basis of something he’d done so long ago.

Julia felt something wet on her cheek and realized a tear had leaked from her eye. Brushing it away, she chided herself. How foolish! Even if she was exhausted and under a great deal of stress, what with having been attacked and a murderer probably
after her—that still wasn’t any reason to get weepy at the thought of Linus leaving her side.

She’d nearly schooled herself into emotional ambivalence by the time Linus returned.

He held out a bottle toward her.

She blinked at the label before recognizing her favorite flavored water.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t have to fight anyone for it this time.” He grinned at her.

“Thank
you.” Julia heard the emotional hitch in those two words and clamped her mouth shut as she took the beverage he’d brought for her. She downed half the bottle before she felt steady enough to speak again. “That was very thoughtful of you. I was getting thirsty.”

“You have to keep your strength up. We should both try to rest on this flight.”

Julia nodded, but her throat had swelled up
again. Linus was so thoughtful, so caring...so perfect. She stared at the bottle in her hands, further evidence that Linus was a nice guy, whatever the record from his past might say.

Linus took the seat next to hers. She wanted to reach for him, or even meet his eyes and feel the connection of their shared burden, but he wouldn’t look her way. Instead, he scanned the terminal, alert for
possible danger.

It was his job. She knew that. But at the same time, it felt like he was purposely putting up a wall. What was he thinking? What did he feel? He’d brought her a drink. It was kind, thoughtful. But then, from what she knew of the man, he was kind and thoughtful to everyone. It wasn’t as though he felt anything special for her.

How would he react if he knew about her growing
feelings for him? He’d probably be horribly embarrassed, but ever the gentleman, he’d find a way to let her down gently.

She wasn’t about to put him in that spot. Her life was already in upheaval. She didn’t need to add to that. They’d be in Lydia soon enough, and then she’d be back in a regular rotation of guards. She wouldn’t even be around him very often. Until then, she’d just have to
keep her feelings under wraps.

* * *

Linus lifted Julia’s carry-on bag toward the overhead compartments.

“Wait.” Julia touched his shoulder. “Do you think we—” She paused, shuffled to the side as another passenger squeezed past and then met his eyes with that expression he’d seen before—the one that seemed to apologize for feeling slightly foolish.

But she only wore that expression
when she was following her instincts, and he trusted whatever impulse might have prompted her to ask him to pause.

He eyed the compartment opening. Like everything else in the economy class section, it was no bigger than it absolutely needed to be. And the fat
Seattle Electronics vs. Pendleton
file made Julia’s carry-on bag bulge to the side.

“Why don’t we pull out the file?” Linus rested
the bag on the arm of his seat. “That way we can review it during the flight.”

“Good idea.” Relief and appreciation filled her face, along with something he was hesitant to name.

If he’d been a casual observer watching the duchess interact with any other man, he’d have said that look was one of admiration—more than that, of attraction. But he wasn’t any other man. He was her bodyguard,
and Julia had no cause to look at him like that. He was only doing his job.

Julia took the file from him and squeezed into her seat while he zipped her bag shut again and safely stowed it above. She balanced the file on her knees, watching it apprehensively as though it might hurt her.

Though Linus couldn’t be sure, he suspected the contents already had hurt her. They may have even gotten
Fletcher Pendleton killed.

He wanted to know why. “What do you think?” he asked with a nod to the file, the printed
Seattle Electronics vs. Pendleton
label looking as innocent as any other, except that it bore the name of a man who’d been murdered.

Julia bunched her face up as though she was trying not to cry. “I don’t know. I don’t even know for sure that the man on the beach really
said
file
. I don’t know if this is what they’re after. I’ve already looked through it and didn’t find anything. What am I looking for?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a fresh set of eyes would help. Mind if I take a look?”

“Please.” Julia sounded relieved to be rid of the burden.

Linus leaned back in his seat and opened up the file. A color pamphlet about Motormech caught his eye, and he
opened it to read about the company’s environmentally friendly innovations.

“You ever meet this guy?” Linus showed a picture to Julia. “Todd Martin, the Motormech CEO?”

Julia glanced at the picture of the robust, blue-eyed businessman, and shook her head. “Never met him, but he sounds like a great guy, always involved in philanthropic pursuits.”

“He seems young for a CEO.”

“He built the company by merging smaller failing companies. Saved lots of people’s jobs and all that. Whatever mess this is with Seattle Electronics, I hope it doesn’t end up reflecting poorly on Todd Martin. From what I understand, his innovations have moved the entire automotive industry toward greater efficiency.” She pointed to the thick pages of the brochure. “It’s got his story somewhere in
there.”

Linus found the narrative and tried to absorb the names of the various companies Todd Martin had saved over his tenure at Motormech, but the list was long and he didn’t recognize any of the names. He tucked the brochure back into the file.

Reluctant to pull out too many papers when the plane would be taking off before long, Linus peered inside the file, flipping through random
pages, hoping something might jump out at him.

Julia looked over his arm at the papers, and her voice held a note of sadness when she spoke. “Doesn’t look like anything worth killing over, does it?”

“Not to me. But the man whose name is on the case is now dead, and this is your only link to him, so there’s got to be a clue here somewhere.”

Julia raised a doubting eyebrow. “I read
through this file the first time the file cabinet was broken into. I couldn’t find a motive then, and I still can’t see one now.”

Linus flipped through the pages. “All I see are white pages, black letters...and faded grayish streaks.”

“Those are from the drum on my printer. One of these days I’m planning to look up how to clean that off and get rid of them, but I haven’t had time.”

“You’ve been busy,” Linus noted, flipping back to get a closer look at some of the pages he’d flipped past. “You must have fixed it at some point. These papers don’t have the gray streak.”

Julia peered over his arm to where he pointed. “They should. Those are the design specs for the engine. Pendleton emailed me his entire file, and I printed it all off together. See? Only these few pages
here don’t have the streaks. The rest of them do.”

Linus felt his heart rate kick up a notch. “Why these few? Do you think it was a fluke?” He pulled out the papers and spread them across their laps, half expecting the gray streaks to appear if he held them at the right angle.

“No.” Julia covered her mouth with one fist as her words descended in a horrified spiral toward despair. “Oh,
no, no, no, no, no.”

“What?” Linus saw the misery in her eyes and scooped the pages back together. “What is it?”

It took her a second to speak. Then she pointed at the top page with a trembling hand. “See that little smudge in the margin?”

Linus inspected the blotch, which was less than a millimeter in diameter, and not very dark. “What is it?”

“It’s an imperfection on the
glass of the main copier in Joan’s office. I’ve seen it a thousand times.”

“So, these pages were copied on the secretary’s copy machine?” He wasn’t entirely certain why that thought had Julia so distressed, but it sent a cold inkling racing along his skin.

“Yes. What time is it?”

“A little after ten.”

“Good. There’s still time. Have they told us to turn off electronic devices?”
Julia pulled out her phone and punched a button. “Joan’s a night owl.”

“What are you doing?” Linus placed one hand over Julia’s fingers to stop her from sending the call.

Julia froze. “I’m calling Joan. She can give us the entire copy-code history. She can tell us who used the office copier the weekend of the break-in.”

“But, what if she did it?”

Julia lowered her phone and
met his eyes. “Joan?”

“Yes. Isn’t she the main person who uses the copier?”

“Of course she is. That’s why she can find the codes to tell us who else used it.” Julia sounded impatient.

Linus couldn’t let her rush in to make a call she might regret. “But what if she’s involved? We don’t want to alert her to what we’ve figured out.”

“Joan?”

“Yes, Joan. Or Scott, or Doug,
or
someone
. Somebody is behind this—probably someone from your office with a code for the copier and access to your files. Somebody killed Fletcher. They’ve already come after you in various ways.”

“Why do you think they killed Fletcher tonight?” Julia’s voice trembled. “They’d bothered him before, obviously, but what flipped their switch from burglary to murder? Do you think, when I called
Fletcher earlier today—” She swallowed hard, and tears filled her voice. “Do you think that’s what set them off?”

All day, Linus had fought against the urge to comfort Julia. She needed him now. She looked at his hand close to hers. Now he gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Listen, Julia—nothing about Fletcher’s death was your fault. Whoever has been after Fletcher must have had a reason
for not killing him sooner, but if they were planning this, whether you called him today or something else happened tomorrow, he was mixed up in something you didn’t start. Your phone call didn’t cause his death. It was already going to happen.”

Julia sagged toward his shoulder as she fought a hard battle against the tears that seemed so determined to fall. She gulped air and looked up at
him. “Fletcher died because he got mixed up in this.” She blinked and worked her mouth against the distasteful words. “
I’m
mixed up in this. Am I next?”

“No.” Linus slid one arm around her, as if by holding her tight enough he could keep their anonymous enemies from tearing her away from him. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.” It was a promise he knew he wasn’t qualified to make, but what
else was there? He had told himself not to hold her either, yet he couldn’t bring himself to let go—not when she clung to him like she needed him.

“So, what are we going to do?” She sniffled after a long pause.

As if in answer, the flight attendant began her preflight speech.

“Turn off your electronic devices,” Linus whispered.

Julia looked down at Joan’s number and turned
off the phone. “I hope that was the right choice.”

“We change planes in Atlanta. Let’s try to sort through what we know. If we decide then to get in touch with Joan, you can text her while we’re on the ground. In the meantime, explain to me how these copier codes work. I need to understand what you think happened.”

“It’s simple. All the lawyers have a printer in their office. Most documents
we print in our offices. When we need copies of an original document, we use our codes on the main copier. Each lawyer has their own code. Joan can access the copier record of who prints how many copies and when.”

As she spoke, Linus flipped through the file again, past the pages with the gray streaks, to the few with the tiny smudge. “These pages are numbered consecutively.”

“Exactly.
When I printed them off, they all had streaks from the drum on my printer. Somebody pulled out my pages with the streaks and got rid of them. They made copies of another set on the central copier, and replaced them with these. That’s why these don’t have gray streaks, but they’re still numbered the same way.”

“So, the intruder knew what they were doing. They knew the numbers on the pages
they wanted to swap out. Assuming the copies were made the same weekend as the break-in, you’re suggesting the intruder brought his own originals, made copies on Joan’s copier, and then put those copies in the file?”

“Precisely.”

“But why make the copies?” Linus couldn’t sort out the reasoning behind it. “Why not just replace the pages with their originals?”