Page 17 of Knight Watch

“Insulting you?”

“Yeah, I’m telling you the truth. How many people, after losing their parents in traumatic circumstances, not to mention being kidnapped, jumps back into the line of fire? You may not look like it, but you, lady, have the courage of a lion.”

The conviction in his voice and the searing heat of the emotions contained in his eyes astounded her. And even more surprisingly soothed her. How could a stranger who had only come to her rescue that morning make her feel safe, understood the tattered state of her soul in such a way?

The realization was almost frightening. Unable to say more without telling him the truth about her uncle, Sydney got out the truck. Self-preservation screamed at her to be careful, and she would. Kingsley’s intention, along with the rest of the Agency, might be honorable and selfless, but they didn’t know how dangerous her uncle could be.

Without looking at Kingsley, she walked straight to the door, but her bodyguard gently touched her elbow. “Wait.” Before she could ask why he pulled a small device from his pocket that looked a little like a smartphone. “Your apartment was bugged. I wouldn’t be surprised if your father’s house were also infested.”

Her apartment had bugs? “You mean microphones?”

Kingsley adjusted the settings. “Yeah, eyes and ears, and not your run-of-the-mill kind. The person who installed them had means and bottomless pockets.”

Sydney knew who he was referring to. When he gestured it was safe, she unlocked the door and let him in. The place was musty, dim. It was like entering a dreamlike state. Memories tried to insinuate themselves into her mind, but she kept them at bay. The bad would follow the good, and it was not the time and place to have the complete meltdown she knew she was capable of.

Kingsley went into every room, silent and focused on the small screen, until he was satisfied, and came back to the entrance, pocketing the device. “We’re clear. I think they thought it was unnecessary to install the expensive electronics as you don’t come here often.”

It was more like never. She paid a neighbor to mow the lawn and keep an eye on things, but it was the first time she’d come back since the cleaning crew had left after removing her father’s blood from the walls and floor.

Images superimposed themselves in front of her eyes. She had run around the parked police cars to reach the front door, evading the outstretched hands trying to stop her. Nothing could have kept her outside. Her father, the love of her life, was face down on the floor in a pool of blood—his familiar form lit by cold light and detached strangers.

“Sydney?”

A deep voice pulled her back. Kingsley. It was low, soothing, even tentative as if wondering how to bring her back into the moment. Memories couldn’t be helped, but they had to wait. “What are we searching for?”

Kingsley locked eyes with her for a long moment before nodding. “Anything that might give us a clue to what your uncle wants. Anything that connects him to your mother or your father, or anything significant.”

Sydney sighed. “I went through all of my father’s things. Papers, pictures. Every piece of furniture you see here is empty. I didn’t want anybody to break in and steal anything. It’s in a secure storage unit if you want to see it. But I’ve checked each piece, and I didn’t see anything weird or suspicious.

“I think we should have another look regardless. Have you thrown anything away?”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t.” Swallowing hard, she forced herself to continue. “At the time it was so painful I was barely able to finish sorting the house. There’s still the attached garage left, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to touch anything in there.”

Once more, she had trouble catching her breath. Kingsley moved as close as possible without touching her. Usually, a person’s instinct was to offer comfort by touch and Sydney was surprised at Kinsley’s restraint. Since her attack and her father’s murder, being touched often triggered an adverse reaction. She was grateful he seemed to understand without words her need for space right then.

“I wish I could make it easier on you, Sydney. I sincerely do. But time is against us. If you want, we can go back to the Agency and have a couple of the others go through the house.”

The thought of strangers touching her father’s thing was like a bucket of ice over her head. “No, we’re here. I can do it. Come on.”

With way more confidence than she felt, Sydney walked toward the side door by the kitchen and switched on the lights as she entered the garage. Kingsley followed her and whistled at the space that had been turned into every performance mechanics dream.

Her father had been a genuine sports car fanatic, and there was his last project, his pride and joy, covered with a tarp.

When she pulled it off, Kingsley’s admiring whistle put a smile on her face.

“Whoa, that’s a muscle car! What a beauty!”

“It’s a 1976 Pontiac GTO Custom Hardtop. Dad spent two years trying to find it. It was in poor shape when he got it. It was our project. We had almost finished…”

The car shone in all its dark glory inside the garage. There were still some slight tweaks to be done with the engine, but it was done. They had planned a road trip to test it out.

Kingsley rounded the car, his fingers hovering over the gleaming paint. “Always wondered what blueberry looked like on a real car. It looked great in pictures. I see that your dad didn’t go with the Endura bumper and preferred the Pontiac LeMans bumper and grille instead. It’s a much slicker look, in my opinion.”

Sydney blinked. “You know about muscle cars?”

He flashed her a wicked grin. “American muscle cars. I may be a Brit, but I’ve always been fascinated by them. Just too expensive for me to import back home. But maybe I should consider buying an oldie like this now I’m staying in Miami. Maybe a convertible.”

Speechless, Sydney could only watch as he rounded the car. “I understand why you couldn’t touch it after your dad passed away. This is a work of art. Of love. May I?”