Bodyguard: Target (Book 7)

Bodyguard: Target (Book 7)

Prologue

The hot California sun glinted off the SUV’s hubcaps as it cruised along the quiet suburban street. The man behind the wheel spotted a schoolgirl skipping on the sidewalk, his attention caught by her ponytail of golden-blond hair flick­ing from side to side. Judging from the carefree bounce in her step, she was no more than ten years old.
 
With a quick glance in his rearview mirror, the driver slowed down. He was almost alongside the girl when a voice cried out, “Charlotte!”
 
She stopped and turned. Another girl, petite with almond-shaped eyes, emerged from the porch of a large house. Her pink backpack rode high on her shoulders as she ran across the sunbaked lawn.
 
“Ni hao, Kerry!” Charlotte called back.
 
Her friend smiled warmly, revealing a set of braces. “Hey, your Chinese is getting good.”
 
“I’ve been practicing,” said Charlotte as the SUV contin­ued past, unnoticed.
 
“You want to learn some more?” Kerry asked.
 
“Yeah,” Charlotte replied eagerly. “We could use it as a se­cret code at school.”
 
Kerry moved closer and whispered, “A best-friend lan­guage.” She held up her little finger. “Friends forever?”
 
Charlotte entwined her own little finger around Kerry’s. “Friends forever.”
 
Then, hand in hand, they set off down the road. At the junction, the silver SUV with tinted windows pulled up in front of them, and the passenger door swung open.
 
“Excuse me, girls,” said the driver with a forlorn look. “Can you help me? I’m a bit lost.”
 
They both stared at the man, taking in his bald head, red­dened cheeks and beginnings of a double chin. Intrigued by his accent, Charlotte asked, “Are you from England?”
 
The man nodded. “I’m on vacation. I’m supposed to meet my daughter at Disneyland, but I got off the highway at the wrong exit.”
 
“You really are lost,” said Kerry. “Disneyland’s in Anaheim. You’re in North Tustin.”
 
The man sighed and shook his head at the map on the passenger seat. “American roads! They’re almost as wide as they are long. Can you show me exactly where I am?”
 
“Sure,” said Kerry, leaning in to look at the map.
 
The man’s eyes lingered briefly on Charlotte. Then he turned his full attention to Kerry.
 
Charlotte noticed an illuminated screen on the dash­board. “Why not use your GPS?” she suggested.
 
The man responded with a tight smile. “Can’t work it for the life of me. Rental car.”
 
Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. His explanation was uncon­vincing; even her dad could work a GPS. “Kerry, I think we should be go—”
 
Before Kerry could move, the man rammed a stun gun against her neck. Kerry shrieked, her body juddering with a million volts. Her eyes rolled back and she fell limp. The man seized Kerry’s backpack straps and, with a vicious tug, wrenched her body into the interior of the car.
 
Shocked by the speed of the attack, Charlotte stood rooted to the spot. She didn’t try to grab Kerry, or even call for help. She just watched as the door slammed shut on her best friend. Then the SUV shot off, sped around a corner and disappeared.