Bodyguard for Christmas Read online

  Someone’s after his little boy.

  She has one chance to save them both.

  When his young son is nearly kidnapped, assistant district attorney Colton Gale needs a Christmas refuge—and a live-in bodyguard. Though former military police officer Jasmine McNeal fights to shield them 24/7, she refuses to get attached. But growing close to the little boy and his father might be her only shot at keeping them alive—and becoming a family beyond the holidays.

  “You need to stay inside, Colton. And keep away from the windows,” Jasmine whispered.

  He bristled. He was probably used to being the protector. “You’re supposed to stay with Liam.”

  “No, I’m supposed to protect Liam and, in the process, also protect you. Right now, there may be a threat out there. I’d suggest you let me go investigate.”

  Jaw still tight, Colton dropped his hand and gave Jasmine a sharp nod.

  She drew her weapon and opened the door enough to slip through. “Lock this behind me. Don’t open it unless I give you an all clear.”

  Colton’s dog Brutus was on the right side of the house, still barking. When Jasmine rounded the corner, Brutus stood with his back to her, facing the front yard. He’d stopped barking, but deep growls rumbled in his chest, and his body rippled with tension.

  A rustle sounded a few yards to the side of them, raising the fine hairs on the back of Jasmine’s neck. Every sense shot to full alert with the impending threat of an ambush...

  Carol J. Post writes fun and fast-paced inspirational romantic suspense stories and lives in sunshiny central Florida. She sings and plays the piano for her church and also enjoys sailing, hiking and camping—almost anything outdoors. Her daughters and grandkids live too far away for her liking, so she now pours all that nurturing into taking care of two fat and sassy cats and one highly spoiled dachshund.

  Books by Carol J. Post

  Love Inspired Suspense

  Midnight Shadows

  Motive for Murder

  Out for Justice

  Shattered Haven

  Hidden Identity

  Mistletoe Justice

  Buried Memories

  Reunited by Danger

  Fatal Recall

  Lethal Legacy

  Bodyguard for Christmas

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  Bodyguard for Christmas

  Carol J. Post

  He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.

  —Psalms 147:3

  Thank you to all the people who supported me in writing this series:

  My sister Kim, for all the help with research,

  My critique partners Karen Fleming and Sabrina Jarema,

  Mom Post for beta/proofreading,

  My editor Dina Davis and my agent, Nalini Akolekar,

  My sweet, supportive family,

  And my loving husband, Chris.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  EPILOGUE

  DEAR READER

  EXCERPT FROM COLD CASE CHRISTMAS BY JESSICA R. PATCH

  ONE

  The wrought iron gate swung inward under a steel-gray sky. Colton Gale eased his Highlander through the opening to climb the road leading into his Atlanta subdivision.

  Passing between those large brick columns used to always bring a sense of contentment and warmth. Maybe someday he’d find it again.

  “You all right, bro?”

  Colton glanced at his twin in the front passenger seat. For someone who lived life flying by the seat of his pants, Cade could be remarkably perceptive.

  Colton forced a half smile. “Yeah.”

  Cade nodded, silent assent to let it drop rather than acceptance or agreement. “Thanks for going with me this morning. Since you’ve been back in town only a week, I know you’ve got other things to do.”

  “No problem.”

  When their father retired, he’d signed over the antiquities business to both of them. As co-owner, Colton’s signature was required for official business, like renewing their line of credit, which they’d done that morning.

  But giving his John Hancock when needed was where his involvement ended. His job as an assistant district attorney kept him plenty busy. Besides, Cade was the one with the art and antiquities degree. He was also an expert schmoozer. Everyone seemed to let down their guard and trust him, whether it was warranted or not.

  Colton rounded a gentle curve, where a huge oak spread half-bare limbs over the road, then cast another glance at his brother. Though their looks were identical, he’d never had Cade’s charisma.

  Now the differences in their personalities were even more pronounced. For Colton, studious and sincere had become almost brooding. Though Cade had tried to pull him into the social scene, Colton wasn’t interested. The transition from widowed to single and available didn’t happen overnight. Even six months later, putting on a party face required more effort than he was willing to give.

  He heaved a sigh. He knew the platitudes. He’d used them himself—Life is short. No one is guaranteed tomorrow. Somehow, he’d thought those were for other people. The last thing he’d expected was for tragedy to strike his own perfectly ordered life.

  “When we get to your house, I’ll have to leave to get to my appointment.” Cade’s words cut across his thoughts.

  Colton nodded. He’d expected as much. The business at the company’s bank had taken longer than anticipated. Little Liam would be disappointed. He adored his uncle Cade. Anytime Cade stopped by, Liam always tried to talk him into staying longer.

  Well, talk was a misnomer. Except for during frequent nightmares, Colton’s son hadn’t said a word in almost six months. But the silent pleas with those big brown eyes were just about as effective.

  Colton rounded a gentle right curve. These were his favorite homesites, with yards that backed up to the stucco wall that surrounded the subdivision, woods beyond.

  “Stop.” Cade held up a hand. “Pull over.”

  He hit the brake, following his brother’s gaze out the passenger window. A pickup truck was parked in the circle drive in front of the house catty-corner from his. A woman slid a five-gallon bucket from the bed onto the tailgate.

  The place had been for sale when he’d left town. Someone had apparently bought it and was doing renovations. From what he’d heard, it had needed it.

  Cade put his hand on the door handle. “Have you met your new neighbor? She’s pretty hot when she’s not covered in drywall dust.”

  “I thought you had an appointment.”

  “I do. But I can always make time for a lady, especially when it involves introducing one to my stick-in-the-mud brother.”

  Great. When Colton’s life had fallen apart and he’d needed to get away, Cade had been at the end of his apartment lease and happy to house-sit. During his almost five months here, he’d probably checked out every single woman in the neighborhood. “I don’t need to be introduced.”

  “We can at least be gentlemen and help her unload those buckets of paint.”

  Colton he
aved a sigh, killing the engine, then followed his brother up the drive. The woman cast them a glance, then did a double take. “Whoa, you guys must be twins. One of you is Cade.”

  Cade raised a hand. “That would be me. And this is Colton, the smarter, better-looking one.”

  Her mouth split into a wide smile, and her dark eyes sparkled below a pixie haircut a shade deeper. He could see why Cade would classify her as “hot.”

  Cade had a variety of preferences. Colton measured every woman against one. The comparisons weren’t intentional. They just happened, like a deeply ingrained habit. The thoughts were pointless, because he wasn’t even considering dating, regardless of his meddling brother’s efforts.

  The woman extended her hand. “Jasmine McNeal. I’m hoping to have this place move-in ready in another two weeks.” After a firm handshake, she turned back to the truck and reached for the paint bucket.

  Colton stepped forward. “Let us get those for you.”

  “I can handle them.”

  Yeah, she probably could. She was short, didn’t even reach his shoulders. Jeans and a sweatshirt hid her build, but judging from the way she was handling the paint bucket, she was probably well acquainted with the gym.

  But he wasn’t the type to watch a woman haul construction supplies, no matter how strong she seemed. While she lowered one bucket to the concrete driveway, he reached into the bed and pulled out the second one.

  Cade closed the tailgate. “Sorry to greet and run, but I’ve got an appointment.” He started down the driveway at a half jog, throwing the next words over his shoulder. “I’m borrowing your gate control. I’ll put it back in your car before I leave.”

  Colton followed his new neighbor into the house and placed the second bucket on the concrete floor next to hers. Everywhere he could see, carpet had been removed. The walls had numerous patches varying from fist-size to more than a foot in diameter.

  She followed his gaze. “Pretty bad, huh? The old owners were carrying the mortgage, and when they had to foreclose, the new people got ticked and totally trashed the place. I’m making progress, though. Someone’s bringing in a hopper tomorrow and texturing the walls. Then I’ll be ready to paint.”

  She leaned against the doorjamb between the living and dining rooms. “So, are you visiting Cade?”

  “The other way around. Cade was house-sitting for me while I’ve been gone. He’s pretty well moved out now.”

  Over the past week, while Cade had worked on gathering his possessions, Colton had done some clearing out of his own, a task that had hung over him for the past half a year. The first four weeks, he hadn’t been able to even think about it. He still wasn’t ready, but it was time.

  So three boxes occupied his back seat, with several more packed into the rear. He’d planned to drop the clothing by a thrift store and put the jewelry in the safety deposit box at his own bank. He hadn’t made it to either place before having to get Cade back home. He’d have to run back out this afternoon.

  She walked with him to the door. “Thanks for toting the paint.”

  “No problem.” When he stepped outside, a single beam of late November sunshine had found its way through the clouds blanketing the sky. Across the street, Cade was backing his Corvette through the wrought iron gate at the end of Colton’s driveway. What stood a short distance beyond wasn’t the most extravagant residence in the neighborhood, but the yard was neatly manicured and the three-bedroom, two-bath home exuded warmth and elegance. Not bad for a former foster kid.

  The gate rolled closed, and Cade stopped next to Colton’s Highlander to return the control. Although the community was gated, the wrought iron fence that circled his property added an extra layer of protection. So did the rottweiler who regularly circled the half-acre grounds surrounding his home.

  Except Brutus wasn’t waiting at the fence. A vague sense of unease wove through him as he scanned the yard. In his job as an assistant district attorney, he’d made some enemies and received several threats. Most he hadn’t taken seriously. A few he had.

  He wished his new neighbor farewell and hurried to his vehicle. At a push of a button, the gate rolled open. Still no dog. The uneasiness intensified.

  Colton slid from the Highlander and hurried toward the house. Nothing looked amiss in front.

  But where was his dog?

  He climbed the porch steps, heart pounding. His three-year-old son and babysitter were inside. He fumbled as he tried to insert the key into the lock. When he finally swung open the door, fear morphed to panic. At the opposite end of the foyer, every drawer in the Bombay chest was open, the contents strewn across the top and overflowing onto the tile floor. On either side, the living room and den were in the same condition.

  “Liam!” He ran into the family room. “Meagan!” Where were they?

  Dear God, let them be okay.

  He headed toward the hall. At half past one, Meagan would have already put Liam down for his nap.

  Movement snapped his gaze toward the dining room. As Colton ran into the room, a figure disappeared through the back door, little legs bouncing on either side of his waist. Colton’s knees went weak, almost buckling under him.

  Someone was taking his son.

  He tore into the room, shattered glass on the floor barely registering before he burst through the back door. Two figures ran toward the rear fence, knit ski masks covering their heads. At his shout, the man carrying Liam turned, then dropped his burden.

  Liam hit the ground and landed in a heap, legs curled under him, face turned to the side. A vise clamped down on Colton’s chest. Liam wasn’t moving. Oh, God, please...

  No, if the men had harmed him, they wouldn’t be trying to kidnap him.

  When he dropped to his knees next to his son, his breath whooshed out. Liam was breathing. His eyes were squeezed shut, and soft whimpers slipped through his parted lips. Colton scooped him up, and little arms went around his neck with a strength that surprised him.

  Rapid footsteps approached, and Colton swiveled his head. “Meag—”

  But it wasn’t Meagan who’d stopped a short distance away, face etched with concern. It was his new neighbor. What was she doing there?

  He rose, clutching Liam to his chest. “I have to find my babysitter.”

  Jasmine shifted her attention to the back of his property, and he followed her gaze. A man dropped from one of the lower limbs of his oak tree to disappear behind the wall. A second shimmied out to follow his accomplice.

  Colton squeezed his son more tightly. He’d get a tree trimmer out pronto. That same branch had probably given them a way into the property.

  As he turned, a dark shape snagged his gaze. It lay several yards from the oak’s trunk, partially obscured by the shrubbery lining the back wall. Brutus. He pressed his lips together. As soon as he found Meagan, he’d check on his dog.

  When he looked at Jasmine again, she was already punching numbers into her phone. “I’m calling 911.”

  “Thanks.” He’d let her handle it. He ran back to the house. Next to the door, jagged glass surrounded a large hole in the dining room window. He’d check out the security footage later. Or the cops would. He had a camera in back and one in front.

  Once inside, he ran room to room, still holding his son while he shouted Meagan’s name. An image rose in his mind—features twisted, hatred shining from eyes so dark they were almost black. One defendant whose threats had sent a chill all the way to his core.

  Colton had gotten the man a life sentence. Death would have been better. Drug dealer, gang leader and ruthless killer—men like that didn’t rehabilitate. Before being led from the courtroom in shackles, he’d turned to Colton and made his threat, cold fury flowing beneath the surface. You didn’t get a death sentence for me, but you just secured your own.

  Maybe Perez had sent someone for him, and taking Liam was his way of drawing
Colton out. Or maybe it was someone else, determined to exact the worst kind of vengeance.

  When he started down the hall, a cell phone lay on the floor. Meagan’s phone. His chest clenched. Eighteen years old, her whole life ahead of her.

  Oh, God, please let her be safe.

  As he stepped into his son’s room, Liam stiffened and let out a wail. Colton cupped the back of his head. “It’s okay, buddy.”

  He looked around the room. Drawers hung open, their contents tossed to the floor. Nearby, a Lego village sat in a state of incompletion. Maybe this was where Liam had been playing when the man grabbed him.

  Jasmine stepped up behind him. “Cops are on the way. I checked on your dog. He’s unconscious, but his breathing is steady. What happened?”

  “Someone just tried to kidnap my son. My house is ransacked and my babysitter’s missing.” He spun to walk from the room.

  She stepped out of his way. “Maybe she escaped when the men broke in.”

  “And left Liam inside? Not Meagan.”

  “Or she could have slipped out to call the police.”

  He walked into the bathroom across the hall. “They’d have been here long before now.” The destruction they were looking at didn’t happen in minutes. “She’s here somewhere. She’d never abandon Liam to save—”

  Colton cut off his own thought. Had he just heard a thud? His gaze snapped to his neighbor. She’d obviously heard it, too.

  He jogged down the hall toward the master bedroom. When he called Meagan’s name again, the thuds grew louder, more insistent. As he entered the room, there was another thud, and the door on the large walk-in closet jumped. He shifted Liam to one hip and swung it back on the hinges.

  Meagan lay curled on the floor, hands tied behind her back, ankles bound. Tape covered her mouth. An angry bruise was already forming on her left cheek. When her fear-filled eyes met his, they welled with tears.

  Colton tried to pry his son loose, but Liam released a wail that built into a scream of pure terror.