Free Bodyguard by Suzanne Brockmann Page B

picked up at Saks Fifth Avenue and Victoria’s Secret going up in smoke.
    “So why’d you wait so long?” Harry asked harshly. “Why not just return the money when Trotta first approached you?”
    “I didn’t know where it was. I had to find it first.”
    “You found it.” Harry let his skepticism ring in his voice.
    “It was under the azalea.”
    “You found it,” Harry repeated. “All by yourself? Under the azalea?”
    “It was the only thing Griffin asked for in our divorce settlement,” Alessandra told him. “That, and the fact that he planted it himself got me thinking. I didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that I should dig under the azalea.”
    She may not have been a rocket scientist, but she had stopped to think during her search for the missing money. Most people never bothered to stop and think. Most people just let themselves be swept along by the chaos, acting and reacting.
    Yeah, Alessandra Lamont was definitely smarter—and stronger—than he’d first thought.
    In fact, as she sat there, across from him, chin lifted in pitiful defense against his skepticism, Harry almost found himself liking her.
    Almost.
    But regardless of his newfound admiration, he still didn’t trust her. There was something else she’d left out, something she wasn’t telling him. Had to be. Why else would Trotta want to kill her? The mob boss had to know he’d scared her enough for her to stay silent about the money. So why the car bomb? Why the contract on her life?
    “What happens now?” Alessandra asked softly.
    Harry gazed at the streaks of soot on her delicately featured face. “We take you into protective custody.” He gave it to her as if she had no choice in the matter, steeling himself against the guilt of his deceit. “We keep you safe, and in return, you testify after we get enough evidence to bring down Trotta.”
    It wasn’t really as simple as that. George’s ex, Nicole Fenster, had set up a plan to take Alessandra into custodythen leak her whereabouts to Trotta. According to the plan, Trotta would attempt a hit that the task force would intercept. They’d have Trotta on charges of attempted murder and everyone would be happy.
    Of course, Alessandra probably wasn’t going to be happy to find she’d been used as bait. But by the time she did find out, it would be over and done with.
    “Is there any chance …” She hesitated, glancing up at him and blushing slightly. “I don’t have any clothes. I know you … know that. And I … thank you for giving me your coat, but, I was wondering how …”
    “We’ll get you something to wear first thing in the morning,” Harry reassured her. “Your needs will be taken care of—as part of the deal we make with the DA and the Witness Protection Program.”
    She nodded, obviously embarrassed but determined to get it said. “I’m sorry if I … hurt you. When you were trying to pull me out of the house.”
    “You don’t have to apologize,” Harry said quietly. He refused to feel bad about using Alessandra as unsuspecting bait to catch Trotta. After all, she’d married Griffin Lamont. She’d had to know at least some of what was going on. She was no innocent bystander, despite her attempt to play that part.
    “Yes, I do. You saved my life,” she told him. “If you hadn’t pulled me out of there … When the second car exploded …”
    “Luck,” Harry told her. “It was all dumb luck.” He smiled, and she managed a very small, very shaky smile back.
    But it quickly faded, and she looked away.
    Harry knew despite his promises, she didn’t trust him any more than he trusted her.
    And rightly so.

Five

    A PAIR OF pajamas were out on the bed, waiting for her, after Alessandra got out of the shower.
    They were men’s pajamas, made of stiff new flannel, boxy and oversize, in a green plaid print.
    She looked about twelve years old in the bathroom mirror, wearing those pajamas, her pale face scrubbed completely clean of