Where was the subject located? An isolated farmhouse required a very different technique than an apartment in a city high-rise.
What was the goal of the surveillance? Was it to establish the pattern of the subject’s daily existence? Was it to keep track of those who came and went? Was it to protect the subject, either with or without the subject’s knowledge?
A garage jockey brought out the Porsche. Zach handed him a tip, tossed his duffel in the back and slipped behind the wheel.
Caleb had made it sound as if there was only one way to handle the situation. He wanted Zach to insinuate himself into Jaimie Wilde’s life.
Zach eased the car into traffic and headed for the Lincoln Tunnel.
Only one problem, starting with Caleb getting coldly furious at the suggestion that she was, or had been, romantically involved with Steven Young. And he didn’t even know the rest, that Young had telephoned with a story about Jaimie being his fiancée, or that he’d claimed she was sexually promiscuous.
And he sure as hell didn’t know that Zach had slept with her.
Zach certainly wasn’t about to enlighten him. There wasn’t any need. But there was a need for him to find out who was lying to whom about what. Young, to him? Or Jaimie, to her sister?
Women were complex creatures capable of more Machiavellian schemes than most men could imagine. That was a simple fact of life he’d learned personally as well as professionally.
If what Young had said was true, if he’d been Jaimie Wilde’s lover, her fiancé, one scenario could be that the relationship had gone south and accusing him of terrorizing her was a lie she’d invented to get even.
Don’t tell our brothers, she’d warned her sister, but maybe she’d hoped the sister would do exactly that and the brothers would beat Young to within an inch of his life.
Maybe she was the kind of female who’d get off on that kind of thing.
Tunnel traffic was heavy. No surprise there. Zach eased off on the gas and reached for the Americano Venti he’d bought en route to the tunnel.
Or maybe the relationship had gone south and Young was desperate to win her back. It could be that he wasn’t following her, that he was simply tagging after her like a lovesick schoolboy.
As for him having been in her place… Why not? If he’d been her lover, he’d probably have a key to her apartment. He could have let himself in, hoping for a reconciliation when she came home, but changed his mind and left before she got there.
All bets were off, however, if Young had lied about being Jaimie’s lover. About her appetite for casual sex.
If the guy was a crackpot spouting lies, and everything Jaimie had told her sister was true, that would make for a dangerous situation. It would require a different approach. Normally, that would mean an upfront disclosure to the subject that he’d been assigned as her bodyguard, but this wasn’t a normal situation. Caleb didn’t want the subject to know she was being guarded. Assuming the subject needed guarding in the first place.
The subject.
It was safer to think of her that way.
No matter who was lying, who was telling the truth, the basic facts would not change. He had slept with Jaimie Wilde and she had walked out on him.
Zach’s lips compressed.
Why the hell that should still be bothering him was beyond comprehension
, but it did. And that note she’d left. That goddamn note…
A horn blared behind him. Once. Twice. Three times.
“Idiot,” Zach muttered.
Hitting the horn wasn’t going to make the jam of trucks and cars go any faster. At least he could see daylight ahead. Once he exited the tunnel, traffic might ease a little.
He had to keep his mind on business. On checking things out.
On ignoring Caleb’s directive.
He would not work his way into Jaimie Wilde’s life until and unless he was sure that she needed protection. Once he established that he’d call her, tell her that he’d decided to put his condo on the market after all.
The tone of her note made it clear that she’d be willing to deal with him in a relationship that was strictly business.