She’d reminded him that no other guard, hired at this late stage of the game, would likely be able to convince Liam that he was there via his father, thus allowing him to protect Marie without her knowing that she was under protection.
And then she’d apologized for her earlier implication.
But her point had been taken.
* * *
IN BETWEEN THE time he’d dropped off Liam and Gabrielle after work and now, Elliott had familiarized himself with every aspect of the floor plan of their evening’s destination. Assuring himself that he was only working, that he would keep his feelings firmly in check all night, running restaurant security measures through his mind, considering options in the event someone attempted to approach Liam Connelly during dinner, he turned the last corner to approach the back lot of the Arapahoe for the second time that night—this time to pick up his charges for their evening out.
And just missed being hit by the police car that pulled onto the lot ahead of him.
What the...
Barely getting the SUV out of the way and stopped, he was outside, running toward the guard gate where the police car had stopped.
Two uniformed officers were on the blacktop, looking in the door of the small guard house.
“I’m telling you I’m fine,” the man Elliott had waved goodbye to an hour and a half before was saying.
“An ambulance is already on its way,” the female officer said.
“What’s going on?” Elliott spoke calmly. Not the least bit out of breath for having run toward them. And hands in the air to show he wasn’t armed as the larger of the two officers, a man about Elliott’s age, reached for his gun. “Sorry, Officer,” he said. Cursing his unprofessionalism. “I’m Elliott Tanner, an armed and licensed bodyguard. If you’ll allow me to reach for my credentials?”
With his gun trained on Elliott, the man nodded. And looked over the card Elliott showed him. After which Elliott and the two officers turned immediately toward the guard sitting on a stool at the small counter in the booth, facing them.
In his forties, the man had obviously been in a fight. His cheek was swollen. His lip split.
“He came out of nowhere,” the man said. “I heard a sound out by the cars and went to check it out. The guy came at me and got a couple of punches in before I knew what hit me. I fought back. Busted his nose. I heard it crack and felt it, too. He took off, but I wasn’t going to leave my post. For all I knew there were more, waiting for me to go so they could get inside. I came over here and called you.” He nodded toward the police.
“What car was he by?” Elliott asked the question. But he knew.
“Mr. Connelly’s, sir. He came out from between his car and that old white Buick parked beside it.”
Grace’s Park Avenue.
Before they could say anything more, another siren closed in on them and an ambulance pulled on the lot. The back door to the building flung open and Liam Connelly, visibly pushing two beautiful, poshly turned out women back into the building behind him, came outside.
Elliott had to get all three of them out of there. Let the officers sort it all out. And then he’d figure out what to do.
Handing the female officer his card while her partner tended to the security guard, Elliott waylaid Liam before he could make it around the ambulance and to the booth.
“Let’s get the ladies and go,” he said, his hand on Liam’s arm.
It spoke to Liam’s intelligence that he didn’t argue.
* * *
IT WASN’T A DATE. Liam and Elliott rode up front, the doing of both men as far as Marie could tell. She wasn’t all that sorry to be huddled with Gabi in the backseat.
“So you think that guy was after Liam?” she asked, shivering in spite of the balmy weather outside and climate control in the car.
“No.” Elliott’s tone bore no hesitation. “If anything he was after his car.”
“To sabotage it?” Marie asked. She was thinking about bombs.
“The back tire was slashed,” Elliott said. He’d gone back and spoken with the police for a few seconds after he got Liam and Gabi and Marie settled in his car.
Always the professional.