“I’m sorry. I should’ve been clearer. I already have someone in mind. I’m calling for references.”
“Oh?” Surprise mixed with curiosity. “Who is it?”
“Gabriel Sachs. He does work for you, correct? Or out of your agency?”
“Gabriel is one of our top personal-protection agents.”
Relieved that Gabriel was who he said he was, I continued. “That’s good. He told me he worked for a former senator. Did he have any problems there? Anything I should know about before hiring him?” I didn’t know why, but I hadn’t expected anything out of the ordinary.
“Gabriel is a professional.”
Chamberlin didn’t say more, and I had a feeling he was holding back, but Gabriel checked out, and I didn’t need much more reassurance. I was going with my gut this time. If I’d listened to it originally and told Marty he was crazy, I wouldn’t be in this damn situation.
“May I ask you a few questions?” Chamberlin sounded like he had something on his mind.
“Sure.”
“What are you hiring Gabriel for, specifically?”
That was an odd question, but maybe he needed it for record keeping or whatever it was an agency did when one of their contract workers was hired.
“Well, he’s a bodyguard…and I need protection.”
“How did you find him? You didn’t call our office, I know.”
My senses tingled to awareness. Something was going on behind the scenes here. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I just knew.
“An incident occurred in front of my building yesterday, and Gabriel helped me. Then once I got home, I opened a package and an ink bomb exploded all over me. I decided at that point I needed help. I don’t like being afraid in my own apartment or when walking outside, so I called Gabriel, and we made an arrangement.” I hesitated. “Was that the wrong thing to do on his part? Should I have contacted you first?” Maybe Gabriel was cutting out the middleman. If he worked through an agency, they’d take a percentage of his salary. By contracting directly with me, he was getting his whole paycheck.
“No. He’s actually on a break with us for now, so it’s perfectly fine. I’m sure you’ll be more than satisfied with him. Gabriel is an excellent bodyguard.”
“Yeah, okay, thank you. That’s all I wanted to hear.”
I ended the call, but something about the conversation kept niggling at me throughout the day. Why was Gabriel on a break from his agency? I pulled my laptop over and did a Google search but found nothing out of the ordinary. The first client I saw was a rock star, and I smiled at the image of a younger Gabriel taking in the crowd with a deadly scowl, keeping watch over the high-profile singer. I’d had the biggest crush on that rocker, and I’d spent many a night listening to his growly voice and fantasizing about what it would be like to kiss him.
Scrolling through the other photos, I landed on his most recent assignment, for the former senator. There were many more photos here, perhaps because Senator Bridges and his wife were huge patrons of the arts and loved to entertain at their large estate in Maryland. “Look at you, Gabriel. On a horse and everything.” I studied a photo of the wife’s birthday party, taken several years earlier, of the entire family. Gabriel was there as well, standing next to a blond man smiling up at him.
Who the hell is that?Something about the body language between the two made me wonder if there was more going on there than a professional relationship.
“Hmm. What’s your name?” I searched and found DJ Bridges was, predictably, an Ivy League law-school graduate and had formed an exploratory committee to run for state office. There were pictures of him at events with various men and women, but no mention of girlfriends.
“Well, DJ Bridges, you never smiled at any of those women the way you smiled at Gabriel in that picture.”
Maybe the son had a thing for Gabriel. Not inconceivable. Who wouldn’t go for hired muscle, especially if they looked like Gabriel? Sad that the man had died, and when I scanned the pictures of the funeral, I saw Gabriel, as grief-stricken as any family member.
Chalking it up to the long relationship he had with the family, I put it out of my mind. The man had checked out, and I was ready to hire him. I sent him a text:Spoke with your boss. He vouched for you, so I’ll see you tomorrow.
He replied instantly:Be there at 8.
For whatever reason, having Gabriel move in spurred me to action. I figured he’d want a television in his room, so I needed to buy one. I showered, got dressed, and left my apartment, noticing with satisfaction that there were no protesters waiting outside. A quick stop at Best Buy, where I ordered a fifty-inch flat-screen for Gabriel’s room, followed by the supermarket to load up on food. I hadn’t thought to ask him what he liked to eat, so I picked a hodgepodge of healthy and junk foods, plus beer, set it up for delivery, then hit up the liquor store for a restock. By some stroke of luck, no one recognized me, and my tension ebbed.
It felt good to be outside, breathing the air and feeling the sun’s delicious warmth on my face. For the first time since my release, I’d left my apartment without my baseball cap, and I pushed the sunglasses up to the top of my head. My wanderings led me to Union Square Park, where I picked up a burger and fries at Shake Shack before sitting on a bench to watch the skateboarders.
Several people strolling by shot me curious looks, which I chalked up to me eating a sloppy burger and licking my fingers in public, but I didn’t care. This was one of the things I’d missed while in prison, and I had no intention of allowing strangers to dim my joy.
“Enjoying that burger, I see?” A woman in her midfifties or so stopped in front of me, and I smiled at her, ready to answer, but at the heat of anger in her eyes, my appetite fled. “You were on that show last night—American Greed. You have a lot of nerve sitting there without a care in the world when you hurt so many people.” She stuck her finger in my face, and I saw the passersby, in their usual New York way, pretending to ignore what was happening but really slowing their walk and listening. “I don’t care if you went to jail.”
“I’m just eating my lunch, so if you’ll excuse me…” I crumpled up the wrappers and shoved them into the bag.
