Bodyguard Under the Mistletoe by Cassie Miles

had a counterargument for everything Jesse said, it was all speculation. “You seem to be drawing a hell of a lot of assumptions based on zero evidence.”
    He stubbed out his cigarette. “If the ransom is hidden here, it seems like Fiona would know something about it.”
    â€œYou’re wasting your time suspecting her,” Jesse said. “In my line of work, I need to read people. And I’m good at my job. I can look at a crowd and know from their faces and body language if they’re dangerous. Believe me when I tell you this—Fiona Grant isn’t a liar or a criminal.”
    â€œYou have to say that.” The sheriff rose slowly and stretched. “She hired you as a bodyguard. You’re her employee, and I’ll bet she’s paying you a pretty penny. She must have inherited a ton of money when her husband died.”
    â€œIf that’s true…” Which it wasn’t, but Jesse didn’t have the right to tell the sheriff or anyone else about her distressed financial situation. “Why would she be interested in the ransom money?”
    â€œDon’t know. But I’m making it my business to find out.”
    Jesse stood as Wentworth came out on the porch and announced, “I’ve done the best I can to make sure the house is secure for the night. Windows are all locked. I installed braces on the front and back doors.”
    â€œGood work,” Jesse said.
    â€œI’d feel a lot better about Fiona’s safety if we called down to the Denver office and got Max up here to install a real security system.”
    Max Milton was one of Jesse’s most valued employees. He couldn’t shoot, wasn’t in top physical condition, and wore glasses an inch thick. But his ability with computers and electronics was first-rate.
    Jesse had already checked in with his office manager, who told him the other five bodyguards who worked for him were all on the job, as was Max, who was on-site in Cheyenne, Wyoming, setting up security at an auto parts warehouse. “I arranged for Max to come here when he’s finished with his current project.”
    â€œHow’s everything in the office?”
    Jesse knew that Wentworth really wanted to know about their office manager, who happened to be his sister. “Elena is just fine. She likes being in charge. And she’s better at coordinating things than I am.”
    With a sheepish grin, Wentworth said, “Someday, we’re all going to be working for Elena.”
    â€œDon’t tell her that. She already thinks she’s the boss.”
    The sheriff took another cigarette out of his pack. “I think we’re done here. My boys are just about packed up and ready to leave.”
    Good riddance as far as Jesse was concerned. The sheriff’s suspicions regarding Fiona were way off base. Why the hell was he so anxious to put the blame on her? Because he had secrets of his own?
    His chain-smoking and nervousness could be signs of a guilty conscience. Perhaps Sheriff Trainer had something to hide.
    Â 
    W HILE THEY HAD BEEN EATING dinner at the Carlisle Ranch, Fiona tried to find a way to explain to Abby that bad things had been happening. But how could she tell a four-year-old about a dead man on their doorstep? How could she explain that Nicole had been kidnapped? In an ideal world, children didn’t need to know about such things.
    As she drove home with Abby buckled into her car seat in the back of the station wagon, Fiona tried again. “Do you remember in preschool when Officer Crowley came to talk to your class?”
    â€œStranger danger,” Abby said. “Don’t talk to people you don’t know. Don’t take candy. Run away fast.”
    â€œYou need to remember those lessons. Even at our house.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œWe have someone who will help us. A man who’s going to stay with us for a few days. His name is Jesse Longbridge.”
    â€œDoes he