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Hidden Talent

By Bettie Boswell

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Chapter One


Carlton Marsh surveyed the crowded hallway. Superheroes and robotic figures intermingled with winged fairies and hunchbacked trolls. He wondered why in the world he'd agreed to the assignment. A comic convention was the last place he ever dreamed of attending.
Babysitting paranoid cartoonist, Mara Shore for a late afternoon autographing session, in a convention center full of delusional adults wasn't what he imagined for his first assignment with Guardians Security Group. His new employer and former federal boss, Kent Russell, probably thought the job would be safe enough for a limping ex-fed. Who would have thought that at age thirty he'd trade in his badge for a new career? At least it paid well. His only complaint was that the woman was a mule lover. To top it off, month's ago, one wild mule had helped cripple his chances of continuing in his government job.
He leaned heavily on his cane and followed the petite figure in front of him. She struggled to push forward through the mingling mob. A dark Stetson sat low on her brow. A jet-black braid swayed down her back, calling attention to her athletic body. She'd wrapped her tanned arms around a tote held close to her chest. His client would never make it to her destination at this rate.
He tapped her on the shoulder. "Miss Shore, would you like me to lead? I can get us to Hall B quicker by blazing a trail for you to follow."
She frowned and waved him into the lead. He felt her hand lightly touch his back as they forged ahead. Warmth from her small palm shot a sense of protectiveness through him. At least he could do something for the fearful woman. Between his bulk, the pounding cane, and the frown he knew graced his face, the stream of people flowing toward them divided, providing a path for forward movement.
A pinching grab on his shoulder made him pause and turn to his client. "Is everything all right, ma'am?"
She stretched on her tiptoes and leaned closer to his ear. A light whiff of apple scent hung in the air between them. "There's a mummy off to our right. He keeps looking this way and heading the same direction as us."
"I'll take note of him, Miss." Carlton wanted to laugh at her fears. Instead, he concentrated on moving toward their destination. A vast number of people headed in the same direction they traveled. An un-costumed bodyguard limping ahead of a woman in Western wear probably attracted plenty of watchful eyes from the surrounding aliens, mythical creatures, and otherwise oddly dressed throng.
As they approached the assigned room, Carlton spotted a line of costumed fans snaking from the water fountain near the door and doubling back and forth in front of the hall. A few of them waved at his client. A couple of teen girls squealed and held their hands over their hearts as several celebrities filed in ahead of them. He glanced at the fans. No one appeared too suspicious, if he ignored the strange clothes. When they reached the door, Mara Shore stepped around him and held up her lanyard containing a bright orange name tag.
The host standing at the door waved her inside after checking her badge. "Welcome, Miss Shore. I love the humor in your comic strips. I'm apologizing to all our celebrities for the inconvenience of having to walk through the crowds. We found out too late that a back entrance wasn't available for this event due to behind-the-scenes renovations."
"This is my first comic convention, so I didn't realize that kind of service was available. Thank you for your apologies."
The young man nodded as he stared at Mara. "Your table is along the back wall."
If the guy had been a dog he would have drooled. Carlton bit back a grin.
"Thank you, sir. My bodyguard will be accompanying me." The sudden strength in her voice brooked no objections. The woman had grown some spunk now that they were out of the throngs.
Carlton watched the fellow's eyebrows rise when Mara mentioned the presence of a bodyguard, but he kept smiling while directing them into the room. Carlton followed her past a stand of people ready to sell tickets for each author's autographs. Then they headed toward a table sitting along the room's back wall.
Her steps became more confident than when she'd attempted to push through the crowd. A banner bearing her name and a large reproduction of a comic strip mule adorned the wall behind her chair. Thin permanent markers sat in cups on each table, ready for autographing. Several small packs of scratch pads lay nearby. Carlton guessed they had their purpose, but had no idea about their use at the moment.
He stepped behind her table, nodding to the fellow seated next to them. The guy wearing a futuristic law enforcement costume was vaguely familiar. When he extended his hand, Carlton shook it and recognition hit him. He'd seen the actor on a streaming show he'd watched. Carlton had seen most of the series while recovering from the second wound, making his use of a cane a requirement.
"It's nice to meet you in person. I enjoy your show." His greeting felt lame. At least he didn't drool.
"Are you autographing today?" Rodney Stone, who played Sergeant Packard on the crime series, nodded to where Mara was busy placing bookmarks and mule drawings in stacks.
"No. I'm former law enforcement. I'm here with Mara Shore as her bodyguard." Carlton waved a hand toward the woman. The western hat still obscured most of her face, but color rose on her neck. She didn't look happy. "I better see to my duties." He stepped closer to Mara while Rodney returned to his seat.
Mara's hands went to her hips. She whipped the hat off her head and ran fingers through wisps of ebony hair, pushing the errant strands back into her braid. She glared at him with glinting brown eyes and a wrinkled brow. "Look here, mister, I'm not paying you to be a fan boy. I need you watching for trouble."
"Yes, ma'am." Her timid personality no longer remained. Carlton lifted his free hand in a mock salute and took a stance behind her chair. "I'm at your service."
"Good." She paused for a heartbeat as she swiveled to face him. Her expression softened. "Sorry I snapped. It's been a long tour, one I didn't want to do. My agent insisted even though..."
Her unfinished sentence reminded Carlton of the threatening texts she'd supposedly received. Unfortunately, by the time Mara decided to contact Guardians Security the messages no longer existed on her phone. "I understand, Miss Shore."
Carlton wasn't totally convinced of a serious threat. Most likely the messages were the prank of an obsessed fan wanting their five minutes of fame. He'd accepted the assignment despite his disbelief of her fears and strong dislike of mules, since one of the critters had injured him for life. Keeping her safe was his first case since resigning from his government job and joining the newly formed security group. The bottom line was he needed the income to pay bills not covered by insurance. He would do the best job he could for her.
"Do you suspect anyone in this room?"
"Not really, but at this point I don't know who is making the threats." She fingered the rim of her felt hat before setting it back on her head. This time it rested farther back, revealing her concerned expression.
He searched her heart-shaped face. Long lashes encircled her wide brown eyes. A slight blush adorned high cheekbones. Pink lips tightened in a grimace. Worry lines marred her forehead and touched his doubting soul.
He nodded and turned to study the room. The autographing participants all focused on getting their tables set up. Exit doors were clearly marked, each one manned by someone wearing a host badge on their lanyard.
"The room looks secure for now, Miss Shore. I promise to protect you if there's a threat from the fans."
"Thank you." She heaved a deep sigh and sat in her chair. Her eyes closed as she bowed her head. He wondered if she was praying. He used to pray all the time before the accident, before a mule ran him over and destroyed his career as a federal agent.
An announcement about the doors opening interrupted his thoughts. Fans swarmed into the room. After purchasing tickets, the eager crowd formed lines in front of each celebrity. Large mule ears attached to headbands decorated several of the people headed toward his client's table. It looked like the only threat at the moment might be a stubborn mule fan.
Mara straightened in her chair and pasted on what looked like a forced smile. A mother and two young mule-eared fans approached her with their mouths hanging open. The older girl placed a bright green ticket and a book on the table as she danced from one foot to the other.
~~~~~
"Hi, Miss Shore. Will you sign our book?" Mule ears bobbed as the elementary-aged girl bounced next to a similar looking preschooler and a woman with the same hair color.
Leah Beach, aka Mara Shore, nodded and picked up a pen. "Who would you like me to address the autograph to?" She pushed a marker and pad of scratch paper to the mother and asked for the correct spelling of the girls' names. Leah's smile became genuine as she spoke with the little family and enjoyed their chatter. Maybe one day she'd have a family of her own.
That would take meeting someone. Her loner lifestyle didn't offer many contacts with unmarried men. For a second she wondered about Carlton's married status. He didn't look much older than her twenty-seven years. She shook that thought off and concentrated on the task at hand.
Using her author's pseudonym grated on her conscience as she reached for the graphic novel that had started this tour across the country. The assumed name separated her from riding on Daddy's coattails as a way to fame, a choice she’d made for that purpose. Her thoughts wandered as she scrawled a dedication to Gracie and Mae before signing her pen name. The scent of permanent marker tickled the inside of her nose. She managed to stifle a sneeze.
Leah had been content with her syndicated comic strip until her agent convinced her to create an entire book based on her mule characters. She'd enjoyed writing and drawing in the new genre. However, the task of publicizing the graphic novel was tearing Leah away from her typical days of ranching and creating in private.
Penny Barrington, her agent, was already pushing for the completion of her second graphic novel. The first was a top-seller and had received glowing reviews in New York and Chicago. The extra income had grown more important to Penny in recent months. The agent's obsession with the increased income often grated on Leah's nerves, even though she appreciated having the additional funds to help support her mule rescue ranch.
An hour flew by as Leah signed book after book with her Mara Shore moniker. Fans of her comic strip brought colorful clippings from Sunday papers. She laughed with admirers as they perused Marty the Mule's Musings.
Several expressed interest in the latest addition of Sylvester the Appaloosa mule. She'd modeled her drawings of the long-eared equine after the latest acquisition at the mule rescue. The poor beast had come to the ranch in a starved condition. His hooves were in bad shape when he arrived from an auction house. In the last week, he needed special treatments to cure an infection. The heart-shaped spots on his rump inspired the addition of Sylvester's character for the comic strip.
During a short lull, Carlton laid a hand on her shoulder. A hint of mossy aftershave made her more aware of his proximity. Warmth coursed through her body. She really needed to get out more, or maybe stay away from any man that could send that kind of jolt through her body. It didn't help that the hunk looked like a weightlifter and had gorgeous green eyes.
He smiled down at her, pushing a hank of wavy brown hair to one side. "I've learned a lot about your mules and comics today. You've got great fans too. Is there anything I can get for you?"
Her mouth felt dry. "Maybe refill my water bottle."
He reached for the container as she held it up to him. His touch sent a shiver through her body.
"Are you cold?" His voice was smooth and mellow.
She shook her stiff fingers out as she hunted for an answer that didn't make her look foolish. "No. I'm just jittery from everything." She looked away for a moment, but her gaze trailed his movement as he turned and wove his way toward the door. Refocusing, she spotted a couple of teen boys approaching her table.
"Hi, guys. I'm so glad you came to see me."
Spots of pink covered the boys' cheeks as they elbowed each other and stuttered out a few words about the graphic novel. Their cowboy attire attested to their curiosity about ranching.
"Does your interest in Marty the Mule's Musings have anything to do with an actual experience with mules or ranching?"
The shorter young man's shoulders relaxed. "We don't have any mules on our farm, but we do have a donkey. He gets in trouble all the time. Your mule stories remind us of Zeke."
Leah laughed and signed their copy of a comic strip along with two bookmarks. Her line had grown again while they spoke. A frowning man dressed as a pharaoh stood behind the boys.
The guy was the one she'd noticed earlier. Where was her bodyguard? It shouldn't take that long to fill her water bottle. She looked up at the pharaoh as he stepped forward. A mask covered most of his face. He slapped down a comic strip featuring her newest character, Sylvester the Appaloosa mule.
"Where did you find this mule?" His voice rasped like a smoker's as he pointed to her rendering of the spotted mule.
"I created him for my comic strip." She wasn't about to reveal that Sylvester was modeled from a real mule housed at her rescue facility.
"Look, lady, I don't mean your silly little ink drawings. The markings on this animal are exactly like a mule that wandered off from our operation a while ago. We need him back. I think you stole him." The man hovered close enough for her to smell onions and lingering tobacco on his breath.
Leah leaned back and held a hand to her nose. This type of threat was one she'd hoped to avoid by having a bodyguard nearby.
"What's going on here?" Her nerves calmed as Carlton plunked down her water bottle and placed a hand on the man's elbow. Her guardian pulled the costumed pharaoh back a step from her table.
Leah's water bottle rolled across the table from where Carlton had dropped it. She grabbed the container and then pointed a shaking hand toward the stranger. "He was getting too pushy about one of the mules in Marty the Mule's Musings."
"She knows where my animal is, and I want it back." The man glared at her as Carlton continued to hold his arm.
Leah noted Carlton's raised eyebrows and decided to clarify the situation. "This guy thinks I have his mule. My comic strip character, Sylvester, resembles one he claims ran away from him." She pointed to the comic strip lying where the stranger had slapped it down. Carlton frowned.
Self-inflicted pain stung her jaw as she clamped it shut, refusing to reveal that there might be some truth to the man's claim. If the stranger did own the mule, animal abuse authorities would have something to say about the sickly animal she'd taken in. They had worked hard with Sylvester when it came to dealing with a consuming fear of small places, including barns and stalls.
She watched Carlton squint as he picked up the comic with his free hand and glanced between her and the pharaoh. Did he know she wasn't sharing the whole truth? "Are you sure about this, mister?" Carlton glared at the Egyptian-clad character.
A crowd had gathered around them. The futuristic cop actor, Rodney Stone, rose from his autograph table and now stood next to her.
She frowned at the pharaoh. "Give me your name and address, and I'll let you know if I discover anything about your mule." Leah dared the man to share his information. She'd make sure he paid for the damage done to Sylvester if there was a connection.
The man in Carlton's grasp stopped struggling. "Never mind, lady. Maybe I'm wrong." He shrugged out of Carlton's grip. Glaring eyes met hers as the masked pharaoh muttered under his breath, "But I don't think so." Turning, he pushed through the crowded room.
She watched as Carlton's gaze followed the man's retreating figure until the pharaoh stepped from the room. Then he took his position behind her without speaking. She saw him stuff the pharaoh's crumpled comic into his pocket.
A shiver shook Leah's composure. Her hired bodyguard wasn't happy. Neither was she. Regret about going on this tour in the first place made her angry. If a longtime benefactor for the rescue ranch hadn't recently pulled their support, she never would have agreed to go on the road with her book. At least the journey would be over after one more event following this convention.
A few fans still remained in her line. Focusing on their joy at meeting the creator of Marty the mule helped her make it through the rest of the signing. Most people brought copies of the new graphic novel for her autograph. Tension released from her shoulders when the last fans headed for the doors.
At least the books sold well. That should help both the ranch and satisfy her aggressive agent, Penny. The woman promised to be with her at the convention but hadn't shown up for the autograph session. At least Penny came earlier to set up the book banner. Her absence seemed odd. She'd been like a pesky buzzard circling Leah for killer sales during all the other events.
From the time Penny signed on as Leah's agent, they'd had a cordial relationship. However, during the last few months, strain had risen between the two women. Penny pushed for more paying public opportunities. Those activities had stretched Leah's private lifestyle to the maximum and overwhelmed her creativity with book deadlines piled on top of daily comic strip demands. A second graphic novel was already in the works, but the time needed for multiple illustrations per page would take another year before completion. Penny kept asking for a closer deadline.
After the doors closed on the last straggling fans, Leah picked up leftover Mara Shore and Marty the Mule bookmarks. She placed them in a folder she transferred into her backpack. When she reached for the banner, Carlton took the other end and helped her take it down. Their hands touched as they reached the final fold. She snatched the material from him and pushed it into the backpack, careful not to snag the hanging on the electronic tablet, pencils, and sketch pad she always kept handy in her bag. His touch bothered her in a pleasant way, one she didn't have the experience to pursue.
Drawing the comic strip had always been her passion, along with caring for mules in need of a good home. Too often the long-ears ended up permanently staying on her ranch. Creating the graphic novel had, at first, provided an interesting experience. Now it felt like a chore. The pressure to create more books in the genre wasn't as appealing to her anymore, not when deadlines pushed into the things she enjoyed and placed danger in her path. She had initially liked Penny, but maybe it was time to start thinking about a different agent.

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