Kingston's Enigma: Kingston's Security Series, Book 4


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 CONTENTS
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 1
 
 
 Chapter 2
 
 
 Chapter 3
 
 
 Chapter 4
 
 
 Chapter 5
 
 
 Chapter 6
 
 
 Chapter 7
 
 
 Chapter 8
 
 
 Chapter 9
 
 
 Chapter 10
 
 
 Chapter 11
 
 
 Chapter 12
 
 
 Chapter 13
 
 
 Chapter 14
 
 
 Chapter 15
 
 
 Chapter 16
 
 
 Chapter 17
 
 
 Chapter 18
 
 
 Chapter 19
 
 
 
 
 Newsletter and Social Media Links
 
 
 About the Author
 
 
 Other books by Carole Mortimer
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Copyright © 2023 Carole Mortimer
 
 Cover Design Copyright © Glass Slipper WebDesign
 
 Editor: Linda Ingmanson
 
 Formatter: Glass Slipper WebDesign
 
 ISBN: 978-1-914336-07-2
 
 This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
 
 All Rights Reserved.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 DEDICATION
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Thank you to all my readers
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 CHAPTER ONE
 
 
 
 
 
 Malachi believed that the slender young woman currently moving in and out of the crowd on the other side of theater bar just might be his idea of perfection.
 Not just in appearance.
 Because there was no doubting she was beautiful. Very much so.
 Before this evening, Malachi had had no idea what his perfect woman looked like. He knew now.
 Her hair was an unmanageable mass of bright red curls caught up in a green band at her crown. There was a tiny scar over her right eyebrow. She had ten more freckles on her left cheek than her right, and a dozen more dotted on the bridge of her short, straight nose. Her pink and pillowy soft lips were currently quirked up slightly to the left, causing a slight indent in her cheek—a dimple, Malachi would guess most people would call it.
 Her clothes were equally as garish, an overlarge bright yellow sweater, purple low-rider jeans that clung almost obscenely to her hips, thighs and slender legs. The unconventional outfit was finished off with heavy red biker boots.
 Her whole appearance cried out this is me, take me or leave me.
 Malachi noted most of the rest of the snobbish theater crowd had decided upon the latter option. In fact, most of them were avoiding so much as looking at her, as if they found the garishness of her clothing an embarrassment they didn’t even want to acknowledge. Instead, they chose to ignore her as they enjoyed their drinks during the play’s interval.
 Which was no doubt her intention.
 It was certainly the reason she’d been able to perform the single most perfect act of thievery, without anyone being the wiser, that Malachi had ever had the pleasure of witnessing.
 He might not have spotted it himself if he hadn’t already been watching her as she flitted in and out of the crush of loudly talking people, his narrowed gaze drawn to follow the myriad bright colors she wore.
 He’d watched as the man in the dark gray suit and crisp white shirt, worn with a contrasting and perfectly tied blue-and-light-gray tie, who stood chatting with several other theatergoers and drinking champagne, had only glared at her when she bumped into him before she moved on without apology.
 The man had been completely unaware of the way the woman’s slender fingers had slipped briefly beneath his jacket. Or felt his wallet being withdrawn from the inside pocket. Nor had he seen that same hand secreted his wallet beneath the overlarge yellow sweater as the young woman continued merrily on her way.
 Malachi continued to watch her, wondering who she was going to rob next. The room was filled with the affluent and the rich. The women were eager to display the expensive jewelry at their ears, throat, and wrists, the men wearing an array of costly designer watches.
 But to Malachi’s surprise, the young woman, possibly aged in her early to midtwenties, made straight for the door out of the bar without picking another pocket or attempting to remove a single item of jewelry.
 Her abrupt departure was so unexpected that it caused Malachi to stop and consider what his next move should be.
 He should remain here and continue his job of acting as bodyguard to Gerard Taylor—coincidentally the same man the red-haired woman had just robbed.
 Or he could follow the young woman to see what she intended doing with Taylor’s wallet.
 Considering he was here as Taylor’s bodyguard, the fact the young woman had chosen to only pick Taylor’s pocket before leaving had to be worth further investigation. Besides, Taylor might be paying big money to have one of the Kingston brothers, of the world-renowned Kingston Security, personally guarding his every move. But as far as Malachi was concerned, his client was perfectly safe and happy with the same crowd of cronies he had spent the previous four evenings with without mishap.
 Besides, Malachi was bored.
 Out.
 Of.
 His.
 Fucking.
 Mind.
 Bored.
 So far, Taylor seemed to have never heard of spending an evening at home. The other man was either out partying, at the theater, or enjoying a romantic dinner with the latest woman or man to catch his eye.
 Malachi couldn’t decide which of those pursuits he disliked the most.
 The parties were excruciating to be at, as the people drank too much and indulged in taking drugs. The result being their behavior became totally uninhibited.
 It was equally as hard to witness the women or men Taylor took to dinner being charmed and then seduced