Home>>read Identity Crisis free online

Identity Crisis(46)

By:Grace Marshall


No one looked very sympathetic toward poor Garrett, and a few of the men looked downright envious.

She shot Garrett an adoring glance that made his insides tumble in a very good way. ‘I don’t know what I would have done without him,’ she said.

‘Mr. Thorne,’ a reporter from the back spoke up. ‘How long have you and Ms. Delaney been an item, if you don’t mind my asking?’

‘Not nearly long enough.’ This time it was Garrett’s turn to play the part. He lifted her chin on a curl of his index finger and brushed her lips slowly, seductively with his. Cameras flashed; the shifting in the crowd was a mix of discomfort and ain’t-that-sweet. It was clear he’d caught Kendra off her guard. Quickly, she rested a hand against his chest, and for a second he thought she was going to push him away. Instead, she fisted her fingers in his shirt and pulled him still closer, to a smattering of applause from the crowd.

She pulled away with a happy sigh and turned to face everyone, her fingers still curled in Garrett’s shirt, either seductively, or as a threat of what was to come behind closed doors. Clearly everyone in the press was convinced that what was going to happen behind those closed doors was going to be pretty fine. Kendra looked around the lawn, taking in everyone with her most charming smile, then she said. ‘If it’s all right with all of you, I really do have work to do, and later this evening –’ She looked at her watch. ‘Garrett has a nice bottle of champagne chilling to celebrate, so if you don’t mind …’ She nodded toward the door behind them.

‘Please, Ms. Delaney, just one more question, if I may.’ Garrett recognized Ms. Flannery from the award ceremony as she pushed her way forward from the back, and the others seemed to clear a path for her. There was a sudden whisper among them, as Kendra gave the nod that it was OK.

The woman was small of build and dressed in clothes that looked slept in, like most of the press. She had a mass of unruly dark curls hanging nearly to her shoulders. Her voice was gravelly and sexy for someone so young. ‘Ms. Delaney, I’ve heard a rumor that Mr. Thorne has brought you here to keep you safe.’ A murmur rose like a fast-moving breeze among the rest of the press that let Garrett know none of them had heard such a rumor. The reporter continued, ‘Rumor has it there have been threats leveled at you, and I notice there’s security around the property now that wasn’t here when we left on our wild goose chase to the Heathman.’ Again there was shuffling and mumbling among the other reporters. Clearly they hadn’t noticed the security. ‘Can you comment on that?’

Garrett felt Kendra stiffen against him. Instinctively, he tightened his grip. ‘The security is just a precaution,’ she said. ‘I’m told I’m a hot commodity now, and I need to be kept safe.’ There was a trickle of a laugh from the press, but they didn’t seem very convinced. ‘That’s all.’

‘Then there is no threat,’ the surly Mr. Pittman chimed in.

‘Just a precaution, like I said,’ Kendra answered. Garrett noticed the tiniest bit of edge in her voice, but he was certain no one else did.

He didn’t wait for further questions. He spoke up. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse us. Ms. Delaney has a deadline looming.’ He took her by the hand and led her back into the house, managing to close the door behind them before there were any more questions.

Carla didn’t feel good about confronting Tess, and she might not have had the guts to go through with it if she hadn’t noticed the security around the house. They tried to blend in with the press, but her father was ex-military, and he now ran a security company. She knew things weren’t always as they appeared, and she knew when security was trying to blend in. It used to be a game she and her father played – spot the hidden security. OK, perhaps a strange game for father and daughter bonding but, like most kids, she’d taken what she could get. She’d put out feelers to make sure that no one else had noticed. They hadn’t. But she did, and she understood the implications.

Even then she might not have brought the subject up if Barker Blessing hadn’t called her in a total panic. Barker Blessing! Calling her! Her excitement was short lived when the first words out of his mouth were, ‘Dear God, Ms. Flannery, Tess Delaney is being stalked, and if the anonymous email I received is any indication, then the woman could be in serious danger. Heavens! No wonder she wasn’t herself last night.’

It had taken only a phone call to her editor from Blessing, insisting that he be interviewed and that it be by her. It had been remote, but that didn’t matter. It was her interview, her scoop. That was something no one could take away from her. And when Blessing had passed on the email he had received, the cold knot of dread she felt in her chest convinced her that it was the same man. She pulled it up.