Losing Control - By Robyn Grady Page 0,17

else. I know what to look for in locations and angles."

"Wouldn't it be prudent to take a cameraman so I could look over footage later? If - "

"If you approve," she finished before he could. She didn't need reminding again. "If it's a deal-breaker, I'll pay for a coworker's fare, as well."

"Of course, it could save time and trouble if I simply came along and checked out the location for myself."

Taryn's heart jumped to her throat and then she remembered to breathe. But of course, with that menacing smile playing around the corners of his lips, Cole was only testing. Wanting her to rear up and give him a reason to be even more negative. He could toss on all the heat he could muster. She would neither wither into a quivering mess nor self-combust with indignation. She refused to let him get under her skin like he had last night.

Rather, she called his bluff.

"Sure." She wound her arms over her high-waisted black skirt and pegged out a leg. "If you want to come along, why not?"

His gaze sharpened. "You want me to go?"

"It was your suggestion."

Cole felt his grin grow. One thing he could say for Taryn Quinn - she wasn't a quitter. She had her teeth in here and she'd do anything not to let go. Of course, there would be no survey because, after her rushed effort last night, as soon as he got it straight with his father, Taryn's contract would be terminated and she'd be out the door. Business was business. His objective was to keep Hunter Broadcasting healthy - afloat and viable - even if he didn't always feel like a hero doing it.

His phone sounded with a message. Guthrie was in and wanted to see him straightaway. Cole wanted to see Guthrie, too, about Taryn but also for a catch-up regarding the most recent murder attempt. He'd been worried when Guthrie hadn't been home last night. More worried still when he hadn't been in the office this morning. He'd left messages but had gotten no reply.

He slotted his phone away and headed out. "We'll talk more about this later."

She sang back, "I'll be here."

Leaving Taryn, he headed for his father's office. Midway down that long connecting corridor, Cole noticed two assistant producers deep in conversation. He heard Taryn's name mentioned before they saw him. Talk ceased and they ducked off down an adjoining hall.

Everyone here knew belts were drawn tight. Most would also know about his lack of interest in certain types of shows and that the new kid on the block was touting just that kind of proposal. She might have gotten past Guthrie, but Cole wouldn't be surprised if bets were on, speculating on how soon her ax would fall. He hoped Taryn's ears weren't burning.

When he entered his father's office, Guthrie was sitting behind his desk, studying a spreadsheet. At the far end of the room, a tall, suited man Cole had never met before took in the harbor views. As the man turned to face him, Guthrie moved from behind his desk to the more casual area of his office. At a circle of tub chairs, Guthrie took a seat and introduced Cole to Jeremy Judge, his personal bodyguard.

Eyes on the stony-faced man, who was a private investigator as well, Cole folded down into the chair alongside his father's.

"Please take a seat, Mr. Judge."

Judge sent Cole a thin-lipped smile. "I spend too much time sitting around. In cars. Park benches. Surveillance work, you know. I prefer to stretch my back when I can."

No mistaking - Jeremy Judge had a vigilant air. Cole wasn't sure he'd blinked once.

Looking relieved but weary, Guthrie crossed his legs. "I'm happy to say Jeremy has successfully tracked down the man responsible for the attempts on my life."

Cole sat straighter. Well, that was fast. "I hope he's under arrest."

"Last time I saw," Judge said, "he was under a car. While I was escorting your father home around seven, we were fired upon."

"I'd dropped in to see your uncle," Guthrie explained.

"Uncle Talbot?" His father's older brother? "I can't remember the last time you 'dropped in' on him."

The brothers hadn't spoken in years. Cole wasn't even sure what the problem was about anymore.

"We're different as chalk and cheese, but when we were younger, Talbot and I were close," Guthrie said. "I felt the need to catch up."

Cole absorbed his father's words. When someone's life was in danger, guess they'd feel compelled to sort out past differences with