Page 2 of Saving Jennifer
Noah quirked a brow at Gator’s mild language. He’d never known his uncle to curb his colorful language. In fact, he’d learned most of his better cuss words from listening to his uncle.
“I know, I know. Ranger and Sarah have been after me to watch what I say around their kid. I swear she picks up every bad word I say and repeats it like a parrot.”
Noah chuckled, thinking about his cousin Ranger having a daughter. He hadn’t yet met the little one, but he imagined with her uncles and Aunt Gabi, she was spoiled rotten. “Probably a good idea. Growing up, I remember you had a distinctly colorful turn of phrase.”
“Anyway, once Salem escaped from the Amirs, she showed up on Gabi’s doorstep pregnant and terrified. Gabi took her to Texas to hide out on my brother Douglas and his wife’s ranch while they waited for the baby’s birth. Tarik paid Jennifer to head to Texas to see if she could find any evidence that Gabi was there. She reported back to him that, yes, Gabi was in Texas, and he showed up there. Tried to kidnap Salem and take her back to Dubai—at gunpoint. Short story, he was killed, and Salem and the baby are fine. Jennifer was given the bum’s rush out of Shiloh Springs, and pretty much told she wasn’t welcome in their town.”
“She was working for Tarik Amir? If that’s the case, why are you offering her protection now? And why does she need it? Her brother, or half-brother, can’t hurt her if he’s dead.”
Before Gator could answer, Noah heard the door behind them open, and he swiftly stood, his breath caught in his throat, before he realized the sound wasn’t somebody sneaking up behind him. Even though he’d been out of the Army for a long while, he was still jumpy as a cat at the slightly unexpected sound.
The screen door opened as if on cue, and a petite woman in her sixties appeared with a tray bearing mounds of something that smelled delicious even from across the deck. The aroma hit Noah, making his remember summers he’d spent at his uncle’s house—childhood visits to Uncle Gator’s, the safety he’d felt in this refuge when the world outside seemed too much. He remembered his Aunt Elizabeth’s smiling face when all the boys were racing around, yelling at the top of their lungs, making total fools of themselves. Life had been so much simpler then.
He remained standing as the woman Gator referred to as Willie headed toward them, a tray loaded with a platter filled with meat, a stack of what looked like homemade rolls and other bowls. With a smile, she handed Noah the tray.
“You must be Noah. It’s lovely to finally meet you. Gator’s told me some interesting stories about you.”
The first thing he noticed was her British accent. It was lovely and melodic, with an underlying trace of London with the way she enunciated her words. Definitely upper class. But there was something about the way she held her body that made him realize there was more to the woman than met the eye. She had a bearing of alertness, a watchfulness he often associated with somebody in the military or maybe—
“Let me guess…MI5 or MI6?”
She glanced at Gator before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a twenty-dollar bill and slapping it into his outstretched hand. “You’re right, he’s good.” Eyes meeting his, she shrugged. “MI6, though I’ve been retired for a long time.”
Gator chortled. “People like us never retire.”
She leaned over and pressed a light kiss against his cheek. “My records show me as officially retired, dear.” Straightening, she gestured toward the tray she’d handed to Noah. “I hope you like pulled pork. It’s been in the slow cooker all day. I figured sandwiches were quick and easy. Something to munch on while you talk. Cole slaw, corn on the cob. Oh, and leave room for dessert. I made brownies with homemade ice cream.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled. “Has Gator explained Jennifer’s predicament?”
“I started to. Haven’t got to what happened in New Orleans yet.”
Miss Willie rolled her eyes. “For somebody trained in intelligence, you do like to take the long way around a story. Noah, put that tray on the table and dig in. I’m sure you’re starving.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Noah’s southern manners kicked in. It was something his mama had drilled into him from childhood, not something easily forgotten or ignored, despite most people today having lost the tradition.
“Let’s jump ahead. Jennifer got tossed out of Texas.”
Noah took a bite of his sandwich, thinking about that statement. “Why not just hire regular security? Why drag me into this?”
Gator’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Because she needs someone who can’t be bought, intimidated, or traced back to the Texas branch of the Boudreaus, or to Carpenter and his company. The Amirs have people everywhere. And because,” he added, his voice softening imperceptibly, “you’re the best there is at this sort of thing.”
Noah laughed, a harsh sound devoid of humor. “Was. Past tense. Or did you forget the part where I was dishonorably discharged and nearly court-martialed? I’m not exactly a poster boy for keeping people safe.”
“That was a setup and we both know it,” Gator countered, anger flashing in his eyes. “Wish you’d have let me deal with Donovan’s backstabbing of you before now. I’ve sat on my hands, biding my time, because you asked me to, even though I think letting Donovan walk around free was a mistake. You’ve been holed up in that cabin in the mountains, letting him get away with betraying you and your team. Donovan threw you to the wolves to save his own backside.” Gator glared at Noah, and Noah found he couldn’t break his intense stare. Damn, Gator was pissed, and he wasn’t bothering to hide his anger. After several heartbeats, he continued, “When this case is over, don’t think I’m not going after him and proving your innocence.”
The mention of his former commanding officer sent a surge of anger through Noah. He kept his face expressionless through practiced discipline. “Ancient history.”
“Not to me. Not to my family.” Gator leaned forward. “Look, I’m not asking you to adopt Ms. Baptiste. Just keep her safe until Samuel can assign one of his permanent people to take over. Two weeks, max.”
“Samuel Carpenter? You’re bringing in Carpenter Security?”
“Already did. You’re meeting him at four.”
Noah stood abruptly. “You made arrangements before I even agreed?”
Gator remained seated, unperturbed. “When have you ever known me to waste time? Sit down”.
He wasn’t finished with his uncle yet. Nobody was going to railroad him into a bodyguard gig. Been there, done that. Retired. He fixed Gator with a hard stare.
“Son, we both know you wouldn’t be here if you had a choice. Well, you do. You can turn around, get back on a plane, head back to your mountain and hide away from the world for another three years. But I need your help, andyou owe me. So, I’m calling in my marker, asking you to work this case. Protect Jennifer Baptiste, because she’s got nobody else she can count on. We’re it, her last line of defense against people who will stop at nothing to put her in the ground. I know you’d rather sit in your granddaddy’s cabin and brood, but I’m asking you—man-to-man—to step up.”