“If you have to go home, I’ll visit him for you.”
“I can’t leave just yet,” Cappie said. “Not until we find Frank.”
Brenda stared at Bentley, who was all smiles. “Aren’t you going back to your practice?”
“When we find Frank,” he commented pleasantly.
“You’re not part of this bodyguard unit,” Chet reminded him.
“I am now,” Bentley assured him. His eyes smoothed over Cappie. “I’m in it until the end.”
Cappie hated the rush of pleasure that comment gave her. So she disguised it by hugging Brenda and promising to keep in touch.
CHAPTER NINE
Bentley went with them back to the hotel where Cappie was staying. He left them at the desk to get a room for himself. He managed one on the same floor, two doors down, and then went back to the other hotel where he’d been staying to pack his bags and check out.
“Great,” Cappie muttered when they were back in her suite. “Now we’re really going to be a parade.”
“He likes you,” Rourke pointed out. “And at this point, the more eyes, the better. He might see something we’d miss. After all, he knows what Frank looks like. We only have a mug shot. And you said it didn’t really look much like him,” he added, because he’d shown it to her earlier.
“All right,” she sighed. She moved to the window and looked down at the busy street. “At least Kell’s in good hands. I wouldn’t want to walk in on Kilraven, even if he was in a good mood, with evil intent.”
“There’s an odd bird,” Rourke commented. “We can’t even find out which branch of the government he really works for, and we’ve tried. His brother works for the FBI, but Kilraven’s true affiliations are less obvious.”
She turned to him. “Is he CIA?”
“If he was, he wouldn’t say so. And just for the record,” he added with a grin, “no CIA office address is ever listed, in any city where we have offices. We don’t even mention which cities those are.”
“What a shadowy bunch you are,” she commented.
He just grinned. “That’s why we’re so good at what we do.”
“What wedo?” she asked, hitting on the obvious assumption.
“I didn’t say I was still with them,” he pointed out.
“You didn’t say you weren’t, either,” she replied.
He made a face at her.
“At least my job is up-front and everybody knows what it is,” Chet said.
They both looked at him with wide eyes.
He glared at them. “I’m a bodyguard!”
“Well, so am I, right now,” Rourke said. “But it’s not what I do full-time.” He gave the other man a narrow-eyed appraisal. “And it isn’t what you do full-time, either.”
Chet looked uncomfortable.
“What does he do full-time?” Cappie asked, curious.
“It involves long-range rifles and black ops.”
“It does not,” Chet muttered.
“It used to.”
