Page 18 of Unseen Danger
He took a breath and faced the two security agents. Given the coolness in Nevaeh’s demeanor, he’d do well to think of them only in their professional capacity. And to remember they could be a threat to his job. The job he couldn’t afford to lose.
The thought lent a note of formality to his tone when he spoke. “I believe you both already know my name, Branson Aaberg.” He looked at the taller woman. “And you’re Jazz Lamont.”
“Correct.” She smiled. At least one of them was friendly. Though he noticed she was packing a knife in a sheath on her hip in addition to her firearm. Probably not for whittling.
He slowly brought his gaze to Nevaeh. Wouldn’t do to let on he’d been eavesdropping and cared enough to remember the name he’d heard Jazz use.
“Nevaeh Williams.” She didn’t extend her hand, so he didn’t offer his. Her eyes broadcasted a stay-away message even he, no genius at reading women, couldn’t miss.
The words he’d prepared to say—what a beautiful name, it’s a great pleasure to meet you, and other such nonsense—died before reaching his throat. It was for the best anyway. No sense in schmoozing the competition.
“Okay, let’s get down to business.” He crossed his arms over his light blue T-shirt. “You’ve been brought on to enhance our overnight security. Darren Tremblay and I are D-Chop’s primary security personnel during the day at the estate. D-Chop likes his freedom and privacy, so we survey the premises and are usually only with him when he has visitors. At night, I’ll give you any updates and directions needed when you first arrive, but then Darren and I go to on call status overnight.”
“You live here?” Nevaeh’s voice made his pulse do an odd skip.
He met her cool gaze. “Yes. Darren stays overnight, as well. A third personal protection specialist, Louis Kursko, comes in for the overnight shift. If D-Chop wants to be alone or is sleeping, Louis spends his shift monitoring the security cameras. We have some indoors in select hallways and non-private areas. And we have them outside at all the entry points. I’m sure you noticed the guard at the front gate when you came in?”
Jazz nodded.
“He’s a daytime security guard we contract through a local company. He doesn’t have the training and experience of a PPS, but he is armed. He won’t be here at night when you are, though, unless D-Chop holds a party, which happens pretty frequently.”
“Will we patrol the house at all?” Jazz watched him with big green eyes.
“You’ll mostly be on the grounds. The dogs’ extra senses should be an advantage in the dark out there and act as a deterrent. But I’ll have you make occasional passes through the house, as well. The security system is armed at night and during the day except when we allow visitors through the gate. We take it off only to let people in and out. It’s an advanced system, so we can feel comfortable relying on it with less security staff overnight.”
“Sounds good.” Jazz glanced at Nevaeh and then back to Branson.
“Was the fire at the PowerSource Center the first suspicious thing to happen to D-Chop?” Nevaeh caught him by surprise again, this time not only from speaking but from the pointed nature of her question. Her full lips pressed into a firm, plush line, but something in her gaze belied her attempt to look disinterested.
D-Chop didn’t want anyone to know about the recent incidents for fear news of them would reach the press, and he’d look vulnerable or weak. Sometimes this job meant protecting information as well as people. “You’re going to be asked to sign a non-disclosure agreement. Let’s introduce you to D-Chop, then get the NDA done.”
Nevaeh’s eyes cooled again and narrowed slightly.
Branson turned away, disappointment settling in his belly. This wasn’t how he’d envisioned their second meeting.
He led them in silence through the parlor that was far too large, cold, and stylized to be called a living room and then cut across a hallway to reach the music room.
Since D-Chop had only moved into the house two weeks ago, he hadn’t yet enacted his plan to turn the room into a recording studio. But it seemed to suffice as a rehearsal space.
Heavy beats shook the floor outside the room as Branson opened the door.
He glanced inside, noting Darren stood near D-Chop as the rapper spewed out rhythmic lyrics into a microphone.
Branson stepped back and held out an arm toward the door. “After you.”
Jazz’s eyes widened, and a smile played on her face as she passed him with her Belgian Malinois and went through the doorway.
Nevaeh—Ms. Williams—didn’t move. Her big eyes looked larger than before as she glanced at him, then away. “Go ahead.” She suddenly shoved her hand in the pocket of her red windbreaker. “I have to take this.” She pulled out a cellphone and turned away.
Weird. He hadn’t heard it ring. Must have vibrated in her pocket. Though that wouldn’t account for the strange expression on her face. As if she were afraid of something.
Maybe she hadn’t met a celebrity as famous as D-Chop before. Some fans froze up before meeting him, while others went crazy with excitement. Everyone was different.
He entered the room ahead of her but stepped to the side just beyond the door. He didn’t want to think she could be up to something bad, but it was his job to be suspicious, cautious, and ready.
She followed within seconds. Quick—and very silent—phone call.
His suspicions increased. What was she up to? He’d have to watch her closely.