Книга - Protecting The Boss

Protecting The Boss
Beverly Long


Her bodyguard might protect her business…But what about her heart?Designer-turned-entrepreneur Megan North is tantalizingly close to realizing the dream of a lifetime: opening four boutiques around the country. And someone seems desperate to stop her.That’s where security expert Seth Pike comes in. As dogged as he is dreamy, he’ll do whatever it takes to protect his gorgeous client. When business quickly turns personal, can he save Megan… before lurking danger overcomes them both?







Her bodyguard might protect her business...

But what about her heart?

Designer turned entrepreneur Megan North is tantalizingly close to realizing the dream of a lifetime: opening four boutiques around the country. And someone seems desperate to stop her. That’s where security expert Seth Pike comes in. As dogged as he is dreamy, he’ll do whatever it takes to protect his gorgeous client. When business quickly turns personal, can he save Megan...before lurking danger overcomes them both?


BEVERLY LONG enjoys the opportunity to write her own stories. She has both a bachelor’s and master’s degree in business and more than twenty years of experience as a human resources director. She considers her books to be a great success if they compel the reader to stay up way past their bedtime. Beverly loves to hear from readers. Visit beverlylong.com (http://www.beverlylong.com), or like her author fan page at Facebook.com/beverlylong.romance (https://facebook.com/beverlylong.romance).


Also By Beverly Long (#u3fb1ebd3-7162-5994-aa5f-9f67b0daad95)

Wingman Security

Power Play

Bodyguard Reunion

Snowbound Security

Protecting the Boss

Return to Ravesville

Hidden Witness

Agent Bride

Urgent Pursuit

Deep Secrets

The Men from Crow Hollow

Hunted

Stalked

Trapped

The Detectives

Deadly Force

Secure Location

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Protecting the Boss

Beverly Long






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-09356-9

PROTECTING THE BOSS

© 2018 Beverly R. Long

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Seth’s strong hand grabbed hold of her right biceps, and he pulled her into his body, somehow managing to keep them both upright.

“I’ve got you,” he said.

He was hot and sweaty and she was basically plastered against his right side. “Oh,” she said.

“Oh, indeed,” he murmured.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, and not only from the run and the near fall. She’d been physically aware of him since the first moment that he’d almost slid into her under the awning. And waking up in the same room had only exacerbated the tension coursing through her body.

She was needy. Aching with it, truly.

She tilted her head up. He leaned down.

His mouth was just inches away. So close she could feel his warm breath.

He was going to kiss her.

And then he straightened up and stepped away. “We should probably finish up,” he said. “I think there’s a mile or so left. Ready?”


Dear Reader (#u3fb1ebd3-7162-5994-aa5f-9f67b0daad95),

I love road trips. The excitement of picking the destination and then planning the route. The routine of packing snacks for the car; a trip without a bag of red licorice at my side is really not a trip at all. The challenge of shoving suitcases and shoes and way too many things into the trunk because there’s nobody to threaten me with a fifty-pound weight limit and that I only get one carry-on bag!

Then there’s the drive and all the good things that come with that. Perhaps a glimpse of something unexpected like the field of prairie dogs in South Dakota or the joy of a sunset in Bryce Canyon National Park. Or a back road in northern Wisconsin that led to a little store selling the best jelly and pickled beets one might ever taste.

And what is better than the anticipation of arrival and then finally seeing new things or old friends, depending on the trip?

In Protecting the Boss, Megan North is about to take a big-time road trip. She’s going to open four boutiques in four different states in less than two weeks. Her bags are packed, and she’s got a plan! It does not include security specialist Seth Pike.

But there’s danger ahead, just beyond the bend in the road, and it’s going to take the two of them, working together, to make it back home alive.

I invite you to come along for the ride! I think you’re going to enjoy it.

All my best,

Beverly


My thanks to my good friend Margaret O’Connor Govett at Girls in Pearls Boutique for all things boutique related. Any errors are solely mine.


Contents

Cover (#uc3f01073-a6b1-52c9-94dd-c5b0260cf203)

Back Cover Text (#ub2b2fe19-71f2-5e2c-9336-c42d0f9b0039)

About the Author (#u1fb63c8b-d8a4-5905-a965-ff44ac7123a4)

Booklist (#u71eaf505-7921-5dd8-b443-d2aec534cb75)

Title Page (#u5beb2b7c-8e2e-5958-943a-b07618506e35)

Copyright (#uf52bc6b3-4a1f-53ef-b2cd-70cc77176f95)

Introduction (#ufc87e900-a772-528f-bb88-3cdf4dcb0311)

Dear Reader (#uaadb3fdf-2298-583e-9368-8858ab808376)

Dedication (#ue9df4ade-d924-5d30-9e9b-9f31dbdf4b48)

Chapter 1 (#uc99bc04e-d22a-5df1-aaa9-c4903be060fb)

Chapter 2 (#u56103874-f47f-5286-972e-624cbd797df6)

Chapter 3 (#ubc991ef4-5597-5111-9f66-6b3bebec7ffa)

Chapter 4 (#u988bb290-0fd4-56aa-ad84-9748fe067abb)

Chapter 5 (#u93d9867b-34e2-568e-932a-396e405e7e02)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)




Chapter 1 (#u3fb1ebd3-7162-5994-aa5f-9f67b0daad95)


Seth Pike had two child-size teddy bears wrapped in clear plastic under one arm and a twelve-year-old bottle of scotch under the other. What he didn’t have was an umbrella, which meant he was going to get wet.

The rain, a welcome relief from the heat, was falling hard, practically bouncing up when it hit. Vegas, a mass of concrete and hard-baked earth in August, was unreceptive to Mother Earth’s goodness.

He had four blocks to go and it would be a damn miracle if he didn’t get his eye poked out by some fool who couldn’t control his umbrella in the strong wind that had come along with the rain. He spied the big green awning of one of his favorite pizza places and made a run for it.

He slid the last couple feet, almost ramming into the back of a woman who hadn’t been there a second before. “Sorry,” he mumbled, managing to stay upright and not drop the scotch or the bears.

“No problem,” she said, turning. “I perhaps should have taken the warning about monsoon season a little more seriously.”

She talked fast and her very blue eyes sparkled. She wore a short black dress and black heels. Her bare legs were toned and tanned and he told himself it wasn’t nice to stare. With effort, he shifted his gaze upward. A brightly colored scarf was hanging off one shoulder, secured with some kind of fancy knot that only women seemed to know how to do. Her damp hair was a dark brown and hung below her shoulders. She was in the process of gathering it up into a ponytail and then wadding said ponytail into a bun on the top of her head. On one wrist was an oversize gold watch and on the other, at least five gold bracelets, in varying shapes and sizes. There were rings on three of her fingers. None of them looked like the wedding type.

“Whew,” she said, giving the bun a pat. “That’s better.”

With her three-inch heels, they were almost at eye level. She had the darkest eyelashes he’d ever seen.

She smiled at him and for the first time, looked at the things he was carrying. “So the bears enjoy scotch?”

He pointed at their pirate suits. “Strictly rum drinkers.”

“Of course. Love a good piña colada myself.”

He inclined his head toward the dark window behind them. “There’s a nice bar twenty feet behind you. Unfortunately, they’re only open for dinner.”

“I’m free later. Maybe I’ll come back,” she added, her tone unconcerned. “Congrats on being much smarter and carrying your alcohol with you.”

He shook his head. “The bears are for my business partner who is expecting a set of twins in a couple months and the scotch is...”

“To ensure that they all get a few hours of sleep?” she said, finishing his sentence.

“No. For my other business partner, who is getting married early next month.”

“I see. Well, good wishes to them all. Does it rain like this every day?”

“Only for a couple weeks out of the year,” he said. “Where are you from?”

“California. Near Carmel.”

He’d spent a few weeks driving Route 1 along the coast a few years back. “Nice place,” he said.

“I suppose,” she said, not sounding convinced.

“First time in Vegas?”

“Third.”

“What brings you here?”

“Business,” she said.

She was the queen of one-word answers. “Not the gambling.”

She laughed. “My business is enough of a gamble.”

That made him curious. But before he could ask, she glanced at her watch and said, “I think I’m going to have to make a run for it.”

Wait. It almost came out of his mouth. But that was crazy. “Good luck,” he offered instead.

She gave him a dazzling smile. And took off fast. In the opposite direction of where he was going.

And seconds later, his own steps back to his office were slower, even though he was getting really wet. She’d taken her energy and maybe some of his with her.

When he got to the Wingman Security offices ten minutes later, he was still thinking about the woman. About how fast she talked. About the color of her eyes.

He opened the door, waved at Jane behind the reception desk, who was on the phone, and quickly walked down the hallway to his office. He shoved his purchases into the credenza behind his desk. He had a lot of work to do before tonight’s party. His first appointment after lunch was due in fifteen minutes.

He took a seat behind the desk, which was almost entirely covered by piles. Files to review, security-related white papers to read, personal bills to pay and his laptop computer.

He glanced up when a shadow passed by his door. “Hey,” he said.

Royce Morgan stepped into view. “Sorry, didn’t realize you were back. You’re soaked,” he said.

Right down to his underwear. “Get any sleep last night?” he asked.

Royce shrugged, not looking that concerned. “Couple hours. Grace and I got some quality bonding time in the middle of the night.”

Royce’s seven-month-old daughter was teething. “Is she your date for tonight?”

“Yeah. Jules doesn’t get back from New York until this weekend.”

How Jules managed motherhood and being the CEO of a large pharmaceutical company was beyond him, but she seemed to do it effortlessly. Royce had really lucked out there.

As had his other two partners. Trey Riker had married Kellie McGarry last fall and his tux was ready in his closet for when Rico Metez and Laura Collins got hitched next month.

Then he’d be the only bachelor left at Wingman Security.

Fine with him.

“Don’t let her drink too much,” he said.

Royce shook his head. “She has to be at least two before she can have a cocktail.”

Seth laughed. Royce was a supergood dad. Not that any of them had had any doubts.

“You got a date for tonight?” Royce asked.

“Nope.”

“Still between prospects?”

That’s how he’d explained his dating situation a few weeks ago when he, Royce, Trey and Rico had gone out for a few beers. “I’m not looking,” he said. “I think it’s good if one of us stays single. We don’t want to cut ourselves out of a key demographic.”

“Which is?”

“Single woman looking for protection. They aren’t going to want one of you married types.”

“You don’t tell single clients that, do you?” Royce asked in response, perfectly serious.

Seth knew his partners thought he could be a little blunt sometimes. He preferred to think of it as being a direct communicator. “Not unless they ask,” he said.

“Marketing strategies should always be a secret.”

Seth held a finger up in the air. “I knew I should have gone to business school. All I cared about was trying to keep my ass from getting shot out of the sky.”

Royce laughed and disappeared from view down the hallway. Five minutes later, Seth’s desk phone buzzed. It was Jane, telling him that his appointment had arrived. He checked the name again on his phone calendar.

Abigail Chevalier. Some thirty years ago, her mother and Kellie McGarry’s mother had been sorority sisters. That connection was enough that she’d been able to land a spot on Seth’s calendar with barely twenty-four hours’ notice.

When he got to the lobby, his potential new client was staring out the window. She turned as he approached. She was short, with short blond hair tucked behind her ears, and very pregnant.

“Would you like a chair?” he said quickly.

She shook her head. “It’s easier to stand at this point. More room for the baby, you know?”

He didn’t know. And maybe that’s why he was uneasy. Or maybe it was because there was something about Abigail Chevalier that seemed familiar. But he was pretty confident they’d never met.

He led her back to his office and pointed at the chair. “Sit or stand. Your preference.” He went behind his desk and sat. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Chevalier?”

“Please, just Abigail. I’ve only been married for four months so I’m still getting used to the name. My maiden name of North was a little easier. Anyway, I’m rambling. I do that when I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous,” he said.

“I need security.”

She’d chosen to stand, but because she couldn’t be much over five feet, he didn’t have to look up too far. “For yourself?” The idea that a pregnant woman might need security spiked all kinds of protective emotions in him.

“For my sister, Megan North. She was supposed to meet me here but she’s running a little late. Her meeting at the bank ran long.”

“Why does your sister require security?”

“Megan and I are not just sisters, we’re also business partners. We’ve purchased an existing small chain of high-end women’s boutiques. Four locations in total. The Vegas store is right across the street from here.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. He knew the place. Hadn’t paid too much attention to it, but it had interesting window displays at times of sexily dressed mannequins. And he recalled a story where his partner Trey had picked out a red sparkly dress for Jules Morgan when she and Royce were undercover in Vegas. Rumor had it that Royce’s jaw had dropped. “Four locations,” he repeated. “Where are the others?”

“Sedona, Arizona. Albuquerque, New Mexico. Colorado Springs, Colorado. In Vegas, we were able to purchase the building, and in the other locations, we’re renting space. We’re rebranding the properties and reopening all four as North and More Designs.”

“Very exciting,” he said.

“Yes. But I’m due in five weeks and my doctor isn’t crazy about me traveling, and that’s all my new husband, who is very French and very protective, had to hear. He insists that I not go. But that means that Megan is going to have to do the openings herself.”

It sounded like a good reason to hire an assistant, not necessarily a security specialist whose bill rate was $2,500 a day. “Wingman Security might not be—”

“There was another potential buyer in the mix,” she said, interrupting him. “We beat their bid and we understand they’re not too happy about it.”

Probably not. Nobody liked to lose. But still. “You’re anticipating that they’ll transfer this unhappiness into action against your sister.”

“Not her,” she said. “I don’t think they’re that crazy. Thank goodness. But possibly against the properties and the events associated with the reopening of the properties. They’ve been the losing party before and while it was never proven, most of us in the industry think they had some responsibility for a fire that consumed their competitor’s warehouse.”

Well, that put a different spin on things. “Reopening four stores in four states,” he said. “Over what time period?” He had to be here for Rico’s wedding.

“The next twelve days. We’ll be done by the end of the month.”

That would work. Rico’s wedding was the first weekend of next month. “Has the travel been booked?”

“Hotels, yes.”

“Air travel?” That’s what he’d meant.

“All travel will be done by car. Megan doesn’t fly.”

He felt the first shiver of unease. Flying was like breathing to him. But he didn’t want to disappoint Kellie McGarry by refusing to help a family friend or turn away good business. “I’ll get somebody started on the contract,” Seth said. He got up from his desk at the exact moment his intercom buzzed. “Yes,” he said.

“Megan North is here to see you.”

“Oh, good. She made it,” Abigail said.

“Thanks, Jane,” he said. “Bring her back, would you?”

Abigail Chevalier waved her index finger to get his attention. “I probably should have mentioned this,” she said, her voice a mere whisper, “but Megan isn’t too happy about this.”

And before he could ask why, in walked the brunette he’d stood in the rain with.

Megan suspected she looked every bit as stunned as Seth Pike. “Hello again,” she said, working hard to sound nonchalant. She barely made eye contact, instead focusing on her younger sister.

“Hi, Abigail,” she said, taking one of the empty chairs. She wasn’t surprised to see her sister standing. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” her sister said. “No different from when you asked me two hours ago.” She said it without angst. She knew Megan worried. And tried to be a good sport about it. She was sweet like that.

But under all that sweetness was a rip current of manipulation, Megan had realized, when two days ago, her sister had no trouble using Megan’s concern to her advantage to get Megan to agree to hiring security.

Megan had been excited to be away from Carmel, away from the craziness that had permeated her life for the last few months. The craziness that nobody else had heard, seen or believed, especially the police. The craziness she hid from Abigail.

The way her life had been going lately, she should not have been the least surprised that it was Seth Pike she’d shared a dry spot with earlier that afternoon. Coincidences, both alarming and not, seemed to abound lately.

“Mr. Pike,” she said, extending her hand to him. He was still standing by the side of his desk. His shirt and pants were drying but he looked as if he could use a good iron. “Good to see you didn’t melt.”

“Oh, I’m not that sweet,” he said.

No, but he was a bit of eye candy. Lean and tall, but not too tall. Probably just under six feet. His dark brown hair was cut short and he had very light brown eyes. His skin was tanned.

“Ms. North, I presume,” he said.

“Please, just Megan. After all, we have history.”

Abigail looked at Seth, then Megan. “Do you two know each other?”

They both shook their heads. Megan turned to her sister. “Earlier today, I got caught in the rain. As did Mr. Pike.”

“Seth,” he said.

“As did Seth. We shared a canopy before I had to dash to the bank. Which, by the way, went well.”

“Good,” Abigail said.

“Now that I see the two of you together, the resemblance is definitely there,” he said.

She was six years older, seven inches taller, and had dark hair. But she understood. Their eyes were the same shape and almost the same color. They both had their mom’s smile and their dad’s long fingers. “Most people don’t see it,” she said.

“I have always taken some pride in not being most people,” he said.

There was a pregnant, no pun intended, pause in the room. Megan looked from her sister to Seth Pike. “So, did you two get the details all worked out?” She tried hard to keep the irritation out of her voice.

“I think I’ve got the basics,” Seth said. “You and I will need to work out some of the finer logistics. Which should not be as painful as your last root canal,” he added.

Ouch. Maybe she wasn’t doing that good of job of keeping her feelings at bay. “Of course,” she said.

“Two rooms have already been booked,” Abigail said. “Our assistant did that weeks ago when I thought I’d still be able to go.”

“Excellent. If you’ll give me your email address, I’ll send over the contract this afternoon.” Seth pushed a piece of paper her direction and held out his pen.

Once the contract was signed, it would be too late. This was her last chance to put a stop to this nonsense. She could find another way to give Abigail peace of mind.

She stood up. “Actually, Seth. I—”




Chapter 2 (#u3fb1ebd3-7162-5994-aa5f-9f67b0daad95)


“Oh, good,” Seth interrupted. “You made it.” He waved his partner in. Earlier, Trey had mentioned stopping by to say hello. Now his timing was impeccable, because Seth had a feeling that Megan North was about to pull the plug on the whole deal and all he knew was that he didn’t want that. “Trey, this is Megan North and her sister, Abigail Chevalier. Ladies, my partner, Trey Riker.”

Trey shook both women’s hands. “Kellie’s mom mentioned that you were expecting, too,” he said to Abigail.

“I can’t believe you’re having twins,” Abigail said.

“We’re still sort of in shock,” Trey admitted. “But stoked.”

Everyone laughed.

“And Kellie is feeling good?” Abigail asked.

“She’s a trouper,” Trey said. “Doc says both babies are over three pounds right now. Due date is two months away.”

Seth was happy for his friend. Trey and Kellie were lucky to be alive. Kellie’s diabolical former boss had tried to kill them, and only because they were both supersmart and resourceful, they were here to tell the story.

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen the McGarrys,” Abigail said.

“Actually, that’s why I wanted to stop in. We’re having a little party tonight, a combined baby shower for Kellie and me and a wedding shower for Rico, another partner, who is getting married soon. We’d love to have both of you join us. It will give you a chance to catch up with Kellie.”

Seth saw the quick look of distress in Megan’s eyes. “It won’t be pizza,” he said, reminding her that she’d let the cat out of the bag that she had a free night, “but I can promise the food will be good.”

“That sounds like so much fun,” Abigail said.

Megan turned to her sister. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“Absolutely. Where and when?”

“Here, and any time after six,” Trey said. “And please, no gifts. I know this is a last-minute invite and I don’t want you worrying about that.”

“I guess we’ll see you then,” Megan said.

“About that contract?” Seth asked. “Should I email it over?”

Abigail nodded. “We’re just so grateful that you were able to see us on such short notice and that you’re available for the assignment.”

He looked at Megan. She was staring at her sister.

Finally, she turned to him and very deliberately picked up the pen that he’d previously offered. She scribbled down her email address. “Yes, so grateful,” she echoed. The pen dropped back onto his desk with a thud.

“I’ll walk you out,” Trey said. Both women moved toward the door.

And just that fast, Seth was alone. The room seemed dimmer somehow, as if the sun had slipped behind a cloud.

He was going on a road trip with a beautiful woman. Hadn’t seen this one coming. And didn’t feel bad that he’d used circumstances to stack the deck in his favor when it had appeared that Megan might back out at the last minute. Could claim that he’d done it to preserve the $30,000 fee. Their business was successful, but that wasn’t pocket change and would certainly help the monthly financials. But he hadn’t really been thinking about that. Had been solely focused on the fact that he’d let Megan walk away from him once and he wasn’t going to do it a second time.

He didn’t profess to believe in fate but then again, he generally didn’t disavow the possibility, either.

The dynamics between the two sisters were interesting. He wanted to know more. They’d certainly have time to discuss it. The distances between those cities were all one-day drives but in places, there wasn’t much to see.

An hour later, Rico Metez walked by his office, whistling. For some reason, the man had started whistling after falling head over heels in love with Laura Collins and her four-year-old niece, Hannah, whom Laura had now officially adopted. Rico was going to become a husband and a father at the same time. And he couldn’t wait.

“Why are you whistling?”

“I’m just happy, man. Hey, Jane showed me the contract.”

“I know you normally take care of those things, but it was kind of a rush job and I wasn’t sure when you were returning to the office. I will be back for your wedding.”

“I saw that and the rest of it all looked good, too,” Rico said. “Ten days on the road and then finishing up the assignment with two days in Vegas. You want me to look in on your mom at Everpark? I know they watch their residents really closely but just in case.”

“I’m going to run out there tomorrow morning before the assignment starts. If something comes up while I’m on the road, I’ve got you, Royce and Trey all listed as emergency contacts.”

“And we’d all step in just this quick. Your mom is amazing.”

“No argument here.”

Rico smiled. “I’ll see you at the party.”

“I can hardly believe you and Laura are finally getting married.” He knew Rico would have done it last fall, but Laura had really wanted to wait until everything with Hannah was all straightened out and that had taken a while. “By the way, Trey expanded the guest list.”

“No problem. We have enough food for twenty more guests. Who?”

“The new clients, Abigail Chevalier and Megan North. They’re sisters. Megan is the one I’ll be traveling with.”

“I was talking with Trey about them yesterday. Sad situation with their parents, isn’t it?”

He had no idea what Rico was talking about. “What?”

“They were killed in a small plane crash.”

He could hear the concern in Rico’s tone, knew that the man was trying to be sensitive given that he’d lost his dad in the same way. “Recently?”

“No. Something like fifteen years ago. Kellie’s mom and Mrs. North were close friends and Mrs. McGarry tried to keep tabs on Megan and Abigail after the crash. But as the years went by, the visits were more sporadic and it was mainly a social media post here or there that kept them updated on each other’s lives. I got the impression from Trey that Mrs. McGarry was pretty impressed that Megan had done such a good job raising Abigail.”

“Raising?”

“Yeah, Megan is six years older. She was twenty and Abigail was fourteen. She gave up college to come home and take care of her little sister.”

He understood about helping family. He’d move heaven and earth and whatever else was in his way to help his mom, who had sacrificed so much for him. And he didn’t generally like to talk about it, either. In the early days of Wingman Security, he’d worked two jobs once it became apparent that it would be better for his mom to relocate somewhere where her home wasn’t so isolated. Sure it had been hard. But family helped family.

But she’d really been just a kid herself. He was more confident than ever that there was more to Megan than a pretty face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet either of them. What’s your take on the sisters?”

“They’re very different in looks but I could tell they were sisters. Abigail seems very sweet.”

“Megan not sweet?”

“I don’t know yet. She talks fast,” Seth said. “Dresses pretty stylish. I suppose that goes along with owning a boutique.” He paused, unwilling to share that she’d knocked him off his stride. His partner would never let him hear the end of that. “Not my type,” he added, shaking his head.

Rico frowned at him. “I thought this was a work assignment, not a date.”

“Of course,” Seth said. “Just making conversation.”

Megan rarely had trouble deciding what to wear. She loved clothes. Occupational hazard. But she wasn’t sure what one wore to an office party that seemed to be less about babies and weddings and more about the friendship of the four Wingman Security partners. She felt terribly awkward, as if she were crashing a private event. It didn’t matter that she had an invitation.

More of a command performance.

But it would be good to see Kellie again, who was closer in age to Abigail. Megan had been closer to Anthony McGarry, who she understood was now some renowned spine surgeon. She’d always felt sorry for the McGarry kids, in that they’d lost their dad when Anthony had been in high school and Kellie had been just a little girl.

Of course, ultimately they’d been the lucky ones because they’d still at least had their mom. Odd how circumstances changed.

She hadn’t unpacked her clothes for the one night in Las Vegas, believing that she’d be staying in, ordering room service. Now she opened her large suitcase and pulled out a light blue silk dress with delicate cap sleeves. Then she slipped her bare feet into silver sandals. Changed out her gold jewelry for silver and was ready to go. Was halfway out the door when she remembered her umbrella. Definitely didn’t want to be caught in another torrential rain without it. She stepped back inside the room and scooped it up.

When she walked out of the hotel and onto the Las Vegas Strip, there was no rain, just a light breeze. It was still very warm. Probably in the low eighties. There were lights and noise and all kinds of people on the sidewalks. She thought about walking the seven blocks to the Wingman Security offices but decided that her sandals weren’t necessarily made for that. She asked the valet for a cab and within minutes, she was on her way.

And arrived too soon, because Vegas was made for people watching. She paid the driver and got out, glancing quickly across the street at the boutique. The Vegas store would be the last store to reopen. Remodeling efforts were still underway, but she had confidence in their general contractor and knew the place would be ready by the time she returned. There would be new fixtures, new flooring, new paint, new artwork and a cool coffee bar to support her and Abigail’s upscale vision. Right now, it was still chaos and the big windows were lined with brown paper so that people passing by couldn’t get an early look.

She bent forward and gave a sniff to the sweet-smelling flowers that were in big planters, spaced every six feet along the wide sidewalk that ran between the building and the street. Just a few blocks off the main drag, this area was much quieter. Not deserted in any manner, thank goodness. That would be bad for business. But a shade calmer, befitting the vibe they were trying to create in their stores.

She pulled open the door, felt the blast of air-conditioning and turned back to get one more breath of warm, fragrant summer air. And when she did, she caught the quick movement of somebody stepping inside a door across the street. Not her building, which housed her boutique and several other small businesses, but the one next to it. Moving so fast that she couldn’t even tell if it had been a man or a woman.

Like they didn’t want to be seen.

Had somebody followed her here? Was she being watched at the hotel? Had they flagged down a cab and chased her here?

Or had someone somehow discovered that she was returning to this office tonight?

Or was she simply losing her mind? Because that’s what it seemed like.

It was more of the same that she’d been experiencing for months. Footsteps behind her. Doorbells ringing in the middle of the night and no one at the door. Hang-up phone calls from numbers that she couldn’t trace. Muffled conversation beneath her open second-story bedroom window.

The overwhelming feeling that she was being watched.

She debated running across the street and searching the other building. Knew the idea had big holes. She was ill-equipped for action in heels with no means to protect herself.

And more importantly, she really wasn’t brave enough. Because whatever it was, it felt sinister.

It was twenty minutes to seven when she finally arrived. Cocktail hour was well under way but Seth hadn’t had a drink yet. And when the elevator door opened and she stepped out, in something pale blue and silky and several inches above her knee, he thought that was why his throat was suddenly dry.

And maybe the music and the crowd of people in the lobby explained the humming in his ears and his general feeling of light-headedness. He crossed the room fast.

“It...uh...looks...uh...different,” she said as he reached her.

Her voice was shaky. And did she seem a littlepreoccupied? Maybe even upset? Had something happened? “Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes, of course,” she said, not meeting his eyes. Her hand was clenched so tightly around the handle of her umbrella that her fingers were white.

Something definitely wasn’t right. “No rain expected tonight,” he said, deliberately staring at her clenched hand.

She tapped the wooden nub at the end against the ceramic tile flooring. Nervously. “I’m going nowhere without my umbrella. Ever again.”

“Ever is a long time.”

He watched as she drew in a breath. Then another. Saw her fingers relax. “True,” she said.

He reached for the umbrella. “Why don’t I take that and stow it back here,” he said, motioning to the credenza behind Jane’s desk.

“Thank you,” she said. “I may need some of these,” she said, casually looking around at the array of small tables, “when we reopen the Vegas store.”

“I’ll make sure Jane gets you the contact information for our vendor.” He had to admit that it looked good. Jane had arranged for small high-topped ones along with some leather bar stools to be brought in, to provide adequate seating for dinner. They were scattered throughout the lobby and in other areas. Strands of lights had been hung and candles lit.

“Were you waiting for me?” she asked.

He hadn’t been. Not really. But like before, her presence had changed the room. “Abigail arrived just a few minutes ago,” he said. He pointed across the room where Abigail was chatting with Trey. “I thought you might come together.”

She waved to her sister. “I’m at the hotel, but her husband’s parents live in Vegas and she’s staying with them.”

“I thought he was French.”

“He is. They are. It’s a fish-out-of-water tale. They’re here for just a few years. Mr. Chevalier is technically retired but he’s mentoring some high potentials in his old securities firm. I imagine they’ll be back in France within two years. But them being here was actually a stroke of luck for Abigail and me. We’d been looking at properties and she saw the Vegas store on one of her visits. While it wasn’t being run well, we could see its potential. One thing led to another, and well, you know the rest.”

“I imagine you’re excited about being an aunt.”

She looked him right in the eye. “I’m scared to death.”

It might have been the first really honest thing that she’d said to him.

“Why?”

“There’s a thousand things that could go wrong. Preeclampsia. Placental abruption. I mean, I know medicine is very advanced but still, bad things happen. Abigail isn’t concerned. That’s good, of course.” She stopped. “Whatever you do, don’t repeat this conversation. It bothers her that I worry.”

And she didn’t want her sister bothered about anything.

Which is why she’d agreed to hiring security even though she clearly wasn’t happy about it. “I think it’s going to be okay,” he said.

“Oh, sure,” she said, not sounding convinced. But Abigail was approaching and Megan gave her a big smile. “Did you get some rest?”

“I did. And such a stroke of luck that we got invited. Otherwise, I was going to have to learn to play belote.” She turned to Seth. “It’s a French card game.”

“We speak poker here,” he said. “I see you got something to drink.”

Abigail held up her water. “Trey took care of me.”

“What would you like?” he asked Megan. “We’ve got a bartender here. I imagine a piña colada is within the realm of possibility.”

“White wine will be fine,” she said.

“You two go ahead,” Abigail said. “Trey was going to find Kellie and meet me back here.”

Seth motioned Megan to precede him down the hall. They’d set the bar up in the break room. There were three choices of white wine, all equally good. They also had red wine and craft beers and all kinds of liquor for mixed drinks. Hagney, a friend of Kellie McGarry’s from when she’d been a cocktail waitress at Lavender, was bartending.

“That one is perfect,” Megan said. “Thank you.” She took the wine and turned.

Hagney’s eyes met his and the message was clear. Wow.

Indeed. “Business,” he mouthed. Then turned quickly back to Megan. “I’d like you to meet my partner Royce Morgan.” He led her back to a conference room where Royce stood in the corner, swaying back and forth. Grace, oblivious to the noise, was sleeping on his shoulder. He’d never seen his partner look so comfortable and confident.

“Royce, this is Megan North. She’s a new client.”

Royce smiled, shifted the baby slightly so that he could shake Megan’s hand. “Thank you for choosing Wingman Security.”

Seth wondered if she’d correct Royce, insisting that she hadn’t chosen them but rather, they’d been pushed on her. But she just smiled. “You’re welcome. How old is your little girl?”

“Seven months. Her name is Grace.”

“She’s beautiful,” she said.

“Takes after her mom,” he said. “Who is traveling on business, so Grace and I are plotting big things that could involve banana pudding.”

“However is she sleeping through this?” she asked, taking a sip of wine.

“I have no idea. It’s crazy, really. At two in the morning, a dog barking three blocks away can awaken her.”

“I’ll bet you always get to the crib first,” Seth said.

“Maybe,” Royce acknowledged, not at all embarrassed that Grace had him tied around her little finger.

Seth saw Trey and Kellie across the room and waved them over. “And you met Trey earlier and, of course, you know Kellie.”

Kellie and Megan hugged. “So good to see you again,” Megan said. “Congratulations,” she added, smiling at Kellie.

Kellie smiled back. “It’s good to be out. We spent the day babyproofing our house.”

Seth rolled his eyes. “I can just imagine the ingenious tips this guy had up his sleeve.”

Kellie, who looked like a million bucks at seven months pregnant with twins, winked at Megan. “Trey has a bit of MacGyver in him but it’s served me well in the past, so I’m not complaining. I’m on my way to find Abigail in the lobby.”

“Go,” Seth said. He motioned to Megan. “Come on. We’ll find Rico. He’s the fourth partner.” He led her to yet another conference room and got the man’s attention. “Megan North, this is Rico Metez and his soon-to-be wedded wife, Laura Collins, who is incredibly nice and defies all those wives’ tales about redheads and their tempers.”

“Good of you to come tonight,” Rico said.

“Nice of you to extend the invite,” Megan said.

“Rico was just telling me about your assignment, Seth,” Laura said, her green eyes bright. “I’m a little jealous,” she added, turning to Megan. “Your boutiques sound very exciting.”

“I understand you’ve got some excitement of your own in the near future,” Megan said.

Laura smiled. “We’re grateful that Seth will be back in time for the wedding. Awkward when one of the best men is absent.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Seth said. “You two planning to honeymoon in Colorado at the cabin?”

“Of course,” Laura said. “Hannah is coming along but Jennie and Paddie, friends of Rico’s since he was a child,” she added for Megan’s benefit, “have offered to keep her for a few days to give us some adult time.”

“Good plan,” he said. “We’ll catch you later.”

He led Megan down the hallway and used his key to open his now-dark office. He turned on a lamp and soft light filled the room. He left the door partially open. “I need just a minute away from the noise,” he said. “And I wanted to make sure we got our schedules coordinated for tomorrow before the night gets too late.”

“I’m still getting used to the idea that I need to coordinate with you,” she said. “I hope you don’t think I’m rude but I’m really not confident that security is necessary.”

“That’s the funny thing about security. You really don’t want an event to occur just so that you can prove you’re getting your money’s worth.”

“I suppose not,” she said. “I’m curious as to what kind of threat you might be anticipating.”

“I’ll be ready for anything.”

“That sounds rather...”

“Confident,” he supplied.

“I was thinking smug.”

He couldn’t help it—he laughed.

“I’m planning on leaving late afternoon. A rental car is getting dropped off at the boutique for me,” she said.

“A rental? How did you get here from Carmel?”

“Abigail drove her car. But she’s staying on in Vegas for the next two weeks. Thus, the rental.”

“Can you give me the contact number? I’m going to want to be added as a driver.”

“I’m driving. So that won’t be necessary.”

He’d hit a hot button. It was rather fun to rattle her cage. Her perfect chin got a little sharper and her nose went into the air ever so slightly.

“It only makes sense that both of us be able to drive. I mapped out the best routes today between the various cities.”

“I’ve already done that.”

“Okay. Then you know that there are many days that we’ll have a couple hundred miles to cover. It’s a lot of driving for one person.”

“I’m driving,” she repeated.

He let out a loud sigh.

“Oh, fine.” She opened her purse, pulled out her phone and scanned through her contacts. Then turned slightly to lean over his desk to write the number down on a notepad, giving him a truly excellent look at her backside.

Yep. Perfect, coming and going.




Chapter 3 (#u3fb1ebd3-7162-5994-aa5f-9f67b0daad95)


When she finished writing down the information, she turned, but not before her eye caught the photo on the credenza behind Seth’s desk. Him, younger and in a flight suit, standing next to a plane. Her throat felt suddenly tight. “I didn’t realize you were a pilot,” she said.

“Air force for eight years. That’s where I met Royce, Trey and Rico. Flew an F-16.”

“They’re all pilots, too.” She felt suddenly sick.

“Nope. Royce worked security, Trey was a plane mechanic and Rico was tactical communications.”

“Do you fly still?”

“Is the pope Catholic?”

Probably because she showed no reaction, he added, “Yes. I have a Beechcraft Bonanza housed at the North Vegas airport.”

“I’m not terribly familiar with airplanes. Is that a nice one?”

He smiled. “Nice enough that I’ll need to keep working for a while in order to pay for it. But on a nice day, cruising along at 175 knots, I can barely remember that.”

“Right.” They needed to talk about something else.

“You know, I never wanted to be a pilot,” he said.

Okay. That didn’t make sense. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“My dad was an air force pilot. Killed when I was two.”

That sucked the oxygen out of her lungs. “In combat?”

He shook his head. “Training exercise. That doesn’t make it any easier.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” she said quickly, irritated that he’d think she thought that. She would be the last person to ever think that. But that was none of his business, either. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

He nodded but said nothing, as if he might be waiting for her to say something else. But really, she knew that words meant little, gave little respite. It dawned on her that he might already know about her parents—after all, his partner Trey had undoubtedly heard the story from Kellie.

But she didn’t talk about it.

Ever.

“Listen, I’m not sure how this...um...security assignment works,” she said. “What you will be doing, I mean.”

“What I won’t do is try to stand out in any way. The best security is one that is there but not too obvious.”

“Well, if fitting in is your goal, you probably need to know that there is one black-tie event.”

“Really.” He paused. “I was hoping I could pack my tux.”

She knew sarcasm when she heard it. But the idea of him in a tux was a nice one. Sometime this afternoon, he’d changed out of his wrinkled shirt and pants into nicely pressed gray silk trousers and a blue-and-gray button-down long-sleeved shirt. He looked really good.

“We...uh...should probably rejoin the party,” she said.

He immediately pushed the door wide open. “Of course.”

People were filling plates from the lavish buffet that had been set up in one corner of the lobby. They sat with Abigail at one of the high-topped tables. The food was delicious, and then it was present time for Kellie and Trey and for Laura and Rico. Both Seth’s bears and the scotch seemed to be big hits.

It was really fun. Certainly not how she’d intended to spend the night in a city where she knew no one. But once people had settled in for an after-dinner drink, she stood up. “It’s getting late,” she said to her sister. “I’ll share a cab with you.”

“No need,” Abigail said. “Evan is flying in tonight and he’s going to pick me up on his way from the airport. I just got a text from him. He should be here in ten minutes or so. We can drop you off.”

“Your new husband, who has not seen you for six whole days, is not going to want his sister-in-law around. Even for ten minutes. I’ll take a cab.”

“I’ll go with her,” Seth said, looking at Abigail. He turned to Megan. “I’m your security.”

She shook her head. “Store and event security. And that starts tomorrow.”

He shrugged. “Details,” he said, dismissing her objection. “At Wingman Security, we aim to under-promise and over-deliver.”

“Let him,” Abigail said. “Please.”

“Fine,” she said. It wasn’t that big of a deal. The ride would be shorter than the argument they might have about it.

“We can go down to the lobby together,” Abigail said. She grabbed Megan’s hand. “Let’s go say goodbye to Kellie.”

Once they had done that and were back at the elevators, she saw that Seth had put on a sports coat. He’d also retrieved her umbrella and he passed it to her before pressing the elevator button. There were several others leaving at the same time, which prevented conversation in the elevator. Once they were in the downstairs lobby, it was just minutes before a car pulled up outside and her brother-in-law got out. Abigail saw him and exited the building so fast that Evan didn’t even make it to the front door.

She watched as they kissed like the pair of newlyweds that they were. Her new brother-in-law was handsome, educated and rich. And definitely not good enough for Abigail. But who would be? “They almost didn’t get married,” she said.

“Sounds like a good story,” Seth said.

“They’d been dating for almost a year when Abigail unexpectedly got pregnant. He immediately wanted to get married but she told him no four times. I honestly thought he’d give up asking.”

“She didn’t want to get married.”

“She didn’t want to be an obligation.” Said she’d had enough of that in her lifetime. Megan didn’t tell Seth that last part. It would lead to all kinds of questions that she really didn’t want to answer. “But he finally convinced her that it was love, not obligation, that had him all but begging in the streets.”

“And you like him?” Seth asked.

“I do. And I’m pretty sure that he thinks that she’s the moon and stars all rolled into one. And I think he’ll be a good dad.”

“That’s important,” he said simply. He opened the door and flagged down a cab.

The vehicle traffic was even heavier than it had been earlier and the cab inched along at times. Definitely a city that came alive late in the evening. And there were lots of people not in cars. The crosswalks were filled with pedestrians. They waited long minutes even when they had the right of way to turn. “Where do all these people come from?” she said.

“Everywhere. The appeal of Vegas is far-reaching.”

“Are you a gambler?”

“Hard to live here and not try your luck once in a while. My mother lives in town and she likes slot machines, so we go sometimes. But most of the time, I prefer to bet on things where the odds are better.”

“Did your mother ever remarry after your father died?”

He shook his head. “No. I wish she would have,” he said. “She should have.”

Like Mrs. McGarry, his mom had been left to carry on alone. Would either one of her parents have wanted that?

“So, have you always lived in Carmel?”

She was grateful for the change in subject. “All my life,” she said. The cab slowed to pull in to the circular drive of the opulent Periwinkle hotel. It was jammed with cars.

She looked behind them. There was a break in the traffic. “This is fine,” she said to the driver. She opened her purse to pay but Seth beat her to it, handing the man cash. When he opened the door, she slid across the seat of the cab. Her purse strap slipped off her silk dress and the small bag fell to the ground. She bent at the same time he did to pick it up.

Just as bullets tore into the roof of the cab, ripping the metal.

“Stay down!” he yelled. He put one hand on her head to reinforce his words and the other around her to move her out of the street. The cab took off, door still open.

Fifteen big steps had them inside the circular drive, behind a half wall. Arriving guests had abandoned their luggage and flocked inside. Hotel valet staff were crouched down, scanning the street.

“Are you okay?” he demanded, checking her. She was pale but there was no blood. She had not been hit.

“Were they shooting at us?” she asked.

It sure as hell had felt like it. “I don’t know,” he said. “Who have you pissed off, Megan?”

Her head jerked up. “No one,” she said.

“I was kidding.” Sort of. Random shootings occurred. But not that often in the high-rent district that the Periwinkle occupied. It was bad for tourism. He heard the sounds of approaching police. Response time would be fast here.

“What’s the name of the competitor that you bested?” He’d thought he was going to have plenty of time to get into this but gunshots had a way of expediting conversations.

“J.T. Daly’s. But they’re a big operation. I really don’t think that they would be all that upset about not getting our four stores. And I certainly don’t want to publicly malign them without proof.”

He understood that she was warning him to be careful with any unfounded accusations he might make. “I won’t skewer them but I think it’s worth a mention to the police.”

Once the police arrived, both he and Megan gave a statement. He was pretty sure the shots had come from behind them, to their left, and gave that information to the cops. “I think you’ll be able to get a slug out of the cab’s roof,” he added. That made the cops happy. In a succinct manner, Seth also explained about J.T. Daly’s and how the retailer might have a bone to pick with Megan. The cops made no comments but dutifully took notes.

The process seemed to take forever. Hotel management hovered nearby and when the police were done with them, the night manager apologized profusely and offered to send food or alcohol to Megan’s room. She declined both.

He thought a double on the rocks would be nice. He generally had real steady nerves—most pilots did. But the vision of what those bullets might have done to her skull wasn’t a good one.

“Thanks for getting me out of the street,” she said. “I’m not great in those situations—I tend to freeze. And that might not have been good.”

“You did fine,” he said. She had. She’d stayed low, moved quickly and thus far, hadn’t cried.

“I’m hoping that’s the most excitement we have for the next twelve days,” she said. They were at the bank of elevators. She extended her hand. “Good night.”

He ignored her head. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to make sure that you get to your room safely.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she said.

He pressed the up button. When the door opened, he motioned her in and then quickly followed. She pressed the seven.

When they got to 710, she waved her card in front of the electronic reader and it immediately clicked. He held up a finger. “Let me go first,” he whispered.

Before leaving the party, while Megan and Abigail had been saying their goodbyes, he’d stepped into his office and gotten his gun. He wore it in his shoulder holster, carefully hidden by the sport coat that he’d put on.

Now he pulled it, ignoring the gasp behind him. He swung in through the door, grateful that she’d left a light on. It took him just seconds to ensure that the main room, bathroom and closet were clear.

“You had that gun the whole time,” she said after he’d motioned her in.

“Yes.” And his first instinct had been to pull it earlier but he had known that it was much more important to get her to safety. “I didn’t show it earlier because I wasn’t confident in the ensuing chaos that somebody wouldn’t take me for a bad guy and decide to shoot me in the back.”

“Do you always have a gun?” She sounded shocked.

“I provide security services. I have a permit to carry it and I know how to use it. And while Las Vegas is as safe as any other city, I usually don’t go out at night unless I’m armed.”

“I guess that’s good. I mean, that you have a gun.”

He studied her. “You have no idea why anybody might be shooting at you?”

She shook her head.

His gut told him that she was lying. And his gut was rarely wrong.

“What are your plans in the morning?” he asked.

“Why?”

“Just trying to figure out if you’re planning on leaving the hotel. I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” she said. “I have commitments at the boutique.”

It wasn’t much but evidently all he was going to get. He shouldn’t be surprised. Earlier tonight, she’d also not been very forthcoming about her parents dying in a plane crash. He’d given her the perfect segue when he’d talked about his own father’s premature death in a plane accident. But she’d said nothing.

He was usually good at reading people but she was better than most at hiding her emotions. Her pretty face gave him no hint of what she might be thinking.

“I guess that’s good night then,” he said.

“Yes,” she said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Lock the door behind me,” he said. With any other business associate, he would have extended his hand. But he kept it to himself. He’d felt her silky smooth skin when he’d wrapped an arm around her and shepherded her behind the hotel’s half wall.

Another feel and he might not want to let go.

Megan flipped the bolt lock and barely made it to the couch before her legs gave out. She’d been shot at. With real bullets.

It was so unbelievable that she felt as if she must be having a dream. A nightmare.

If Seth hadn’t been there, she had no idea what might have happened. But he’d responded like a machine, not pausing, just acting. And when he’d started asking questions, she’d desperately wanted to tell him the truth. Even at the risk of seeing disbelief in his eyes.

Seth had asked her who might be shooting at her. She’d given him nothing. It wasn’t an outright lie. She really had no idea. But given the other things that had happened over the last several months, she could not ignore the possibility that the attack had not been random.

The idea that somebody had followed her to Vegas, had traveled hundreds of miles, was so objectionable that it made her skin crawl. It made her think that the person had to be very determined.

But that in itself made no sense. She didn’t have any enemies. She lived a peaceful, quiet life. Who could be that angry with her?

It gave her a headache. And tomorrow they would begin reopening the four stores that had been closed for months. She couldn’t afford being tired or off her game.

She was going to have to move on. Not forget it and certainly not ignore any other odd circumstances or take unnecessary chances with her safety, but for now, she was going to have to set it aside.

She undressed for bed and pulled on a nightgown. She slipped between the cool sheets and decided that she would think of something else.

Seth Pike.

Handsome. Fast thinking. Quick acting.

She hoped he didn’t make a big deal about driving. He’d been insistent about getting his name registered with the rental car company. But she did not intend to hand over the wheel.

Bad things happened when you gave control to others. Her parents had made that mistake. Did it make it better or worse that it had been to someone they trusted? To someone she trusted? Loved?

She closed her eyes.

It had been a beautiful clear day. Everybody had said so.

And every day, she comforted herself with the image that her parents’ last hours had been full of sunshine and beauty. And she tried never to think how horrific the final moments might have been. How worried they would have been about her and Abigail.

They’d have had no way of knowing what the future held for their daughters. She liked to think that they’d have been happy with her decisions. Even proud now.

She’d done everything within her power not to let them down. She wasn’t stopping now. She started making her mental list of all the things she needed to do the next day. Felt a measure of peace. Work had always been her salvation. And Abigail her joy. It was a life that most would be very content with.

And she was. She certainly didn’t need Seth Pike messing that up.

Six hours later, Megan woke up when her alarm went off at five. She stretched and glanced out the window. It was not yet light out. Still, she forced herself to swing her legs over the side. She ran most mornings, tried to get in at least five miles. She had a treadmill at home and while she was on the road, she intended to make good use out of the hotel fitness equipment.

She brushed her teeth, washed her face and put on her workout clothes. Then she pulled her long hair back into a low ponytail. Once she’d tied her shoes, she made sure she had her hotel key card in her shirt pocket and then flipped the bolt lock.

She opened the door, turned and almost fell over Seth Pike. She let out a little squeal. He was sitting on the floor, his back up against the wall on the same side as her door. He opened his eyes and turned his head, as if he was scanning the hallway.

“Keep it down,” he said. “It’s pretty early yet.”

“What are you doing here?” she hissed.

He shrugged and stood up. “Morning,” he said. He ran his eyes from her head to her toes. “So you’re the type that gets up and heads to the gym.”

It wasn’t a character flaw. “I run.”

“I see,” he said, not sounding thrilled. “Let’s go.”

“I wasn’t anticipating company at the gym.”

He nodded and ran a hand over his head. “Yeah, but I got a streak going here and I don’t want to break it.”

His clothes were again wrinkled, like they’d been after the rain. With his innocent act, he reminded her of a mischievous little boy.

Except she wasn’t fool enough to fall for it. She’d seen him in action last night, immediately after the shooting and then again when he’d very competently inspected her hotel room, looking quite at ease with a deadly looking gun in his hand.

“You’re not exactly dressed for the gym.”

“Maybe I’ll just watch this morning.”

He was not going to watch her run. Just the idea made her warm.

He fell into step next to her. But then stopped suddenly. He was staring at her shoulder. At the lovely green and purple. “What the hell is that?” he asked, his voice deep.

“It’s a bruise,” she said. She hadn’t expected company, hadn’t thought to keep it covered. Yesterday, when they’d first met, her scarf had been strategically arranged to cover her upper arm. Last night, her dress had sleeves that had done the trick.

“I know that,” he said. “But how did you get it? Not from last night,” he said. “It’s not a fresh one.”

“No. Two weeks ago, I rolled my car and hit my shoulder pretty hard.”

“Tell me you went to a doctor,” he said.

“Of course.” She’d been taken by ambulance. “It wasn’t broken, just badly bruised. It’s getting better every day.”

“Right,” he said, starting to walk again. “How did the accident happen?”

“Another car blew a stop sign,” she said. “Hit the passenger side. My car was totaled.”

“Any serious injuries?”

“No. Thankfully. And the other driver got the ticket. Look, if you’re coming to the gym with me,” she said, wanting to make sure he understood, “you have to do something. Keep yourself busy.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said.

She was starting to think that Seth might be something to worry about. It had been a long time since she’d dreamed about a man. But she certainly wasn’t going to tell him that. “Fine,” she said, starting to walk fast.

He kept up with her no problem. “How did you sleep?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said.

“That’s two fines. I think this is going really well.”

“I don’t think so,” she said. She stabbed the elevator button. The gym was on the top floor. Once they were inside the space, she took two deep breaths, then turned to him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t normally wake up bitchy. But you surprised me.”

He shrugged, not looking concerned. “Well, then we’re even. You surprised me, too. Wasn’t expecting the door to open at five o’clock.”

“You were in the hallway all night?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said.

As if that were perfectly reasonable. “Because you were worried that somebody was going to try to get in or that I was going to try to get out?”

“Maybe a little of both,” he said.

“We have no idea if somebody was actually shooting at me. Maybe they were aiming at you.”

“No way. Everybody loves me,” he said.

“Then it was probably just random.”

“Very possible. I’ll follow up with the Vegas police this morning to see if they know any more.”

She’d been planning to do that. But it wouldn’t make sense for both of them to call. “You have to be exhausted. You couldn’t have gotten much sleep sitting up in the hallway.”

“I got enough,” he said. “Had a nice conversation with the night manager around three when he tried to remove me. Evidently, they picked me up on camera. It’s not comforting that it took them that long.”

The elevator doors opened and she stepped out. “What did you tell them?”

He didn’t answer right away. He was looking around, to the left, to the right. There was only one other guest using a treadmill. Finally, he turned to her. “That you’d dumped me and if I couldn’t change your mind in the morning, I was going to throw myself over the Hoover Dam.”

“You didn’t,” she said.

“Maybe,” he said. He walked over to a rowing machine that faced the elevators. “I’ll give this a go.”

She told herself not to watch him, to just run her miles and forget him. But that was hard to do. Even in his dress shirt, she could see his muscles flex as he pulled on the rope. She was getting all hot and sweaty and it had nothing to do with her pace.

She ran for forty minutes before slowing the machine down to a walk. After another minute, she stopped it and grabbed a towel from a nearby shelf. She wiped her face, then draped it around her neck. He was already off the rowing machine.

He was watching the man who’d been on the other treadmill approach them. When the elevator door opened, she stepped in. Then felt a hand on her hip. She almost let out a yelp but realized in time that it was Seth, simply edging her in the direction of the corner. Then he placed himself in front of her, between her and the man.

By the time they got off on their floor, leaving the poor man by himself, she was strangely irritated. “Don’t you think you’re carrying this a bit too far? The man was just jogging. Not a threat to me.”

“Can’t be too careful,” he said. They were at her door. “In that spirit, give me your room card. I’ll open your door.”

She decided it wasn’t worth arguing over. It wasn’t going to take him long. It was just a bed and a small bath.

He handed her back her key when he was finished. “I need to go home and get showered and changed.”

“That’s fine. We’re not leaving here until four.” That had been clearly stated on the contract. “You have the whole day.”

He continued to stand there. “What time are you headed over to the boutique?” he asked.

It was none of his business. But she didn’t say that. The man had slept in the hall. Not her fault, but still. “At eleven. I’ve got back-to-back meetings with our general contractor and our architects.”

“You have our office number?” he asked.

“I do.”

“And my cell?”

“Already in my phone.”

“And you would call if you needed something?”

“I’m not going to need anything,” she said. “But yes, I would,” she added, because she had the feeling that he was seconds away from insisting that he spend the day with her. She needed some space. Some time to get her head together. She couldn’t start a big road trip with somebody who had her off her stride. “I’ll meet you in front of the boutique at 4:00 p.m.”

“I could swing by and give you a ride later this morning.”

“Evan and Abigail are picking me up,” she said.

“Oh, okay.”

He didn’t sound convinced but she wasn’t giving in. She couldn’t be concerned that he wasn’t completely satisfied with the plan. Probably he wouldn’t be satisfied with anything that wasn’t his plan. He might be providing security but he wasn’t calling the shots. “Is there anything else?” she asked, her voice deliberately curt.

He shook his head. “Naw. I should probably get going. I can tell you’re busy,” he added, letting her know that he knew he was getting the brush-off.

She refused to feel bad about that.




Chapter 4 (#u3fb1ebd3-7162-5994-aa5f-9f67b0daad95)


He waited until he heard the bolt lock turn and then he left. Not 100 percent happy to do so, but knew that he’d pushed her about as far as he could. Contrary to what his partners might believe, he did have a restraint gene.

Now his best bet was to get coffee and a shower, in that order. As he walked to the elevator, he checked his cell phone, making sure he hadn’t missed a call when he’d been in the hotel gym. Late last night, once he’d made the decision to spend the night outside Megan’s room, he’d called his good friend Bobby Bayleaf. With more than twenty years as a Vegas cop, the man would have access to the information that Seth wanted.

But there was nothing on his phone yet. No surprise there. It wasn’t even six o’clock. He took the elevator to the third-floor lobby and then the escalator down to the ground floor. Walked to the coffee shop that was four doors away. He got a large coffee and an egg, cheese and bacon sandwich on a muffin. His car was still back at the Wingman Security offices and he started walking, eating his sandwich on the way. By the time he reached the parking lot, he’d finished both the coffee and the food. Felt a little more human.

Knew that he likely looked rough after his night in the hallway. On the other hand, Megan had looked like a million bucks when she’d practically bounced out of her hotel room. Hair in a cute little ponytail, nicely coordinated workout outfit, new-looking shoes. He’d been impressed.

And then he’d seen the bruise. And having had his share of bruises in his youth from his many fistfights, he’d immediately assumed that she’d been hit. And the idea of that, of her being physically attacked, had made his empty stomach roll.

He’d felt a little better once she’d explained that it had come from a car accident but he’d still felt bad that she’d been hurt.

He opened the door of his old Jeep and drove the twenty minutes to the house where his mother had lived for the last thirty years before she’d moved in to the assisted living center a few years earlier. She’d been reluctant to totally leave the house. He’d been more reluctant to let her stay, a mile from the nearest neighbor, after she’d fallen and broken her leg and lain in the yard for four hours before help had happened by. In an effort to compromise, he offered to leave his city apartment and move in to the house if she’d agree to move in to Everpark. That way, they still both had their independence but the house would be there for her if she ever wanted to come back.

Now she came for Sunday dinners that they cooked together and seemed okay with that arrangement.

Once at the house, he started more coffee and stepped into the really hot shower. Ten minutes later, he was finished and pulling on clothes. Then he pulled a suitcase off the top shelf of his closet. Started packing. Mostly dress shirts and dress pants. Things that he could wear a sport coat with so his gun would be hidden.

He grabbed some other essentials, remembering at the last minute to add some workout clothes. You’re not exactly dressed for the gym. If Megan thought that was going to stop him, she had a few things to learn. Seth had in the past, and likely would in the future, looked like an idiot. He never cared.

But nor did he want to stand out unnecessarily, especially when he was working a job. Which was why the last thing he packed in his bag was his tux for Rico’s wedding. He folded the plastic suit bag it was hanging inside, hanger and all, hoping that it wouldn’t wrinkle too badly. He glanced at his watch. It was fifteen minutes before seven. He dialed his friend. “Morning, sunshine,” he said.

Bobby Bayleaf, who was big, black and had played tackle in college, offered up a string of profanity that ended with Seth sticking the sun where it wouldn’t shine.

“Now, now,” Seth said. “Isn’t your department working on better relationships with its citizenry?”

“You’re not citizenry. You’re the guy on the bus who used to pick fights with me, even when I got big enough to pound on you.”

For a long while, he’d solved a number of problems with his fists. But then he’d started to fly and everything had changed. “I was just preparing you for your future,” Seth said. “Listen, do you have anything on the shooting last night?”

“Nope. I talked to the detective who snagged the case. Officers canvassed the area where the shots were thought to come from but nobody saw nothing. And there weren’t any other shootings in that area. They’re writing it off as an isolated incident.”

Was that what it was? Hard to know. “And what about Megan North?”

“Found her in Carmel, California, just like you said I would. No police record with the exception that her name came up in connection with a traffic accident that occurred recently where the other driver got a ticket for blowing a stop sign.”

“Okay. That’s it?”

“There was just one other thing. I was able to find a report where she’d made a 911 call, indicating that there were intruders in her apartment complex.”

“In her apartment?” Seth clarified.

“No. In the complex. She lives on the second floor and she said that there were people having a threatening conversation under her window.”

“A threatening conversation? Two people threatening each other?”

“I don’t think so but there’s not a lot of detail. The cops responded to the 911 call, evidently had a conversation with Megan but didn’t see anybody. I think you’re going to have to ask her if you want more information.”

That would go well. She’d want to know what the hell he was doing looking into her background. “Okay. I’ll do that.”

“I’ll be in touch if I hear anything else about the shooting,” Bobby said. “Other than that, I guess I’ll see you when you get back from your shopping trip.”

That’s what Bobby had called it when Seth explained the assignment the night before. The idea that anything he was doing being in the same sentence as boutique had seemed to tickle Bobby.

“When I get back, I’m going to take some money off your hands in cards,” Seth said, ending the conversation.

He put his luggage into his vehicle and drove back to the office. He had work to do before leaving town. When he got there, he studied his desk. Then the two tall windows behind his desk.

He liked those windows. They had a western exposure that offered spectacular views of sunsets. But there was something wrong with them this morning.

They didn’t face Megan’s boutique.

He started gathering things up, taking them to the small conference room. It was all cleaned up; no one would ever guess that there’d been a party there the night before. He spread everything out on the table. He’d been there about an hour when Trey walked past his door. “Morning,” Trey said. “What are you doing in here?”

“Clearing off my desk,” he said.

“How much did you have to drink last night? Because that’s not your desk.”

“Funny guy,” Seth said. He had his chair at just the right angle that he could see the front door of Megan’s building. He was confident that Megan had not yet arrived.

Trey walked over to the windows. He sipped the coffee that he carried. “I’m glad we were able to help Abigail and Megan. That means a lot to Kellie. They both seem very nice.” He turned to look at Seth. “And Megan is really gorgeous.”

“I guess,” Seth said. “But she may get me killed.”

The amused look left Trey’s face. “What?”

“Last night when I took her back to her hotel, shots were fired in our direction as we exited the cab.”

“Holy hell. Did they get the shooter?”

Seth shook his head. “Nope. And Megan said there was absolutely no reason that anybody would be shooting at her.”

“You didn’t believe her?”

He’d wrestled with that question during the night. “I don’t know. For one thing, the reason I was hired was because of concern about a competitor—J.T. Daly’s—wanting some revenge for North and More Designs besting them. But it doesn’t feel right. I did some research on them. By and large, they are a reputable company. There was a suspicion that they might have been involved in a questionable fire of another competitor but it wasn’t proven. And even if it’s true, burning down an empty warehouse is different than taking potshots at the executive team.”

“So if not them, then who?” Trey asked.

“I don’t know. And Megan claims not to, as well. But she said a few things that were kind of odd and it makes me think that there’s a story there.”

“You going to initiate a background check on her?”

They did that sometimes with new clients. A clause in their standard contract gave them that right. Bobby had done the quick check on her recent criminal history but Wingman Security had contacts who could dig deep. With a few clicks of his computer, he could initiate a background investigation that would tell him everything from her grammar school teachers to her shoe size.

He’d know everything there was to know about Megan North. “I’ll think about it,” he said. “She has meetings today at the boutique. Made it clear that my services were not needed until we leave town late this afternoon.”

“Yet you’re going to sit here all day and watch the street.”

Seth shrugged. “I’m going to sit here until about two and then I’m going to go see my mom. And then swing back about four to get Megan.”

“I’m going to be here all day,” Trey said. “Kellie has a girls-only baby shower. Come get me when you leave and I’ll work out of this space.”

“I appreciate that,” Seth said.

“Here’s what you’ll appreciate even more. I’m calling in a pizza order at noon.” Trey turned to walk out the room.

“I would marry you if Kellie hadn’t beaten me to it,” Seth said, calling after him.

Trey’s pithy response echoed back into the quiet conference room, making Seth smile. He really had the best partners in the whole world.

A half hour later, Seth saw a car pull up and park in the no-parking zone in front of the boutique. He recognized it as the same one that Evan Chevalier had been driving the night before. He got up to get a better look but stayed back from view. Megan got out of the back seat. Her dress was a pale-yellow-and-white print that reminded him of his favorite lemon dessert. Her hair, which she’d worn long yesterday, was pulled up and in some kind of fancy bun on the top of her head.

Evan Chevalier got out of the car, walked around the front, and opened the front passenger-side door. He helped his wife out. Then Abigail and Megan waited while Evan opened the trunk. The first bag he pulled out was a big suitcase that would never have fit into an overhead compartment. It was a rich-looking buttercream. The second was a matching garment bag that zipped up the front and had a wide leather strap. Classy. It was going to make his black same-as-everybody-else’s look almost shabby.

Seth smiled when he saw the last thing that Evan removed from the trunk. Megan’s umbrella. She had said that she was going nowhere without it. Now she reached for it and tucked it under an arm. They were expecting rain today but it likely wouldn’t start until the afternoon. She reached for her other bags but Evan waved her away and grabbed for both.

He watched as Megan unlocked the door and held it for her sister and brother-in-law. Then disappeared.

Seth waited. Shallow breaths. Knowing that he was crazy but really unable to stop himself. He did not believe those gunshots last night were random. Regardless of the story that Megan was spinning.

He didn’t breathe easy again until Evan came back outside five minutes later, got into his car and drove away. He sat back down to work. Twenty minutes later, a cab pulled up. Out got two men, both with gray hair. One was carrying a cardboard tube, like what an architect might use to carry around rolled blueprints. The other carried a laptop computer.

Old school, new school.

Old school knocked on the glass door. Megan opened it and shook both men’s hands. She was smiling. Then they were all inside.

She was safe. She knew these people. He sat back down. Tried to work. Fifteen minutes later, he dialed her number.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“Fine.”

“Yeah, uh, I was just checking on the time that I should pick you up? Was it four?”

“Yes. At the boutique,” she said.

She sounded fine. Certainly not under duress. Maybe a little puzzled that he’d forgotten.

“Great. I’ll be there.” He hung up.

He got busy. He had a lot to do. When Trey came in with pizza later, he pushed the paperwork aside. After his first piece, he sighed. “This is great. Thank you.”

“All’s well across the street?” Trey asked.

“Yeah. Megan and Abigail are inside meeting with two men. Architect. General contractor. Something like that.”

“You want me to make up some excuse and go knock on the door, just to make sure everything is okay?” Trey asked.

“I already called her.”

“I knew it,” Trey said. “You can be such a mother hen.”

Seth accepted the criticism. He didn’t care about things or that many people. But those he did care about, he protected fiercely.

Megan, by virtue of signing that contract, fell into that category. That’s all this was.

By two, his desk was clean. He left an out-of-office message on his desk number and also on his business email. Told Trey he was leaving and waited until his partner was settled in the conference room. Then he got in his Jeep and drove to Everpark to see his mom.

When he arrived, she was sitting on her porch. Everpark was massive and provided all levels of care. His mom, at almost seventy, required no nursing care and maintained her own small stand-alone condo. But there were neighbors close by who kept an eye on one another. They also played cards frequently, and on nice days could be found on the Everpark golf course. She had access to a dining room, where she could have a meal once in a while when she wanted company.

It gave Seth peace of mind. “Hi, there,” he said. “It’s pretty hot to be out here.”

“Yesterday’s rain cooled it off a bit, I think,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting you. I just had lunch.”

“No worries. Trey and I had pizza at the office. Hey, I got an assignment yesterday that’s going to take me out of town for a while so I wanted to see you before I left.”

“Is it taking you somewhere fun?”

“Sedona, Arizona, and Albuquerque, New Mexico. Also Colorado Springs. I’m providing security services for an executive who is opening a line of women’s boutiques.”

“Are you looking forward to it?”

Oddly enough, he was. Megan was sort of fun to spar with. Of course, he didn’t want to get shot at again. But now he’d be more vigilant. He wouldn’t be caught off guard again. “It will be fine. But you know you can always call me if you need anything.”

“You. Any of your partners. I’ve got the whole list. But I’ll be fine.”

She likely would be. After her fall, she’d remained fiercely independent. But she was alone. “You need anything done around here before I go?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I also know how to call maintenance,” she said gently.

“Well, you let me know if they don’t respond and I’ll break some arms for you.”

She kissed his cheek. “I can always count on that.”

He stayed another hour, had some tea and some really great chocolate chip cookies, and finally, stood to go. “I’ll call you,” he said. “I’ll be on the road for about ten days and then back in Vegas for a couple to finish up the assignment.”

“Don’t worry about me. Go. Be safe. I’ll be anxious to hear about your trip when you get back.”

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too.”

He drove back to Wingman Security and parked his Jeep. Before he got out, he called Trey. “I’m back,” he said.

“Okay. The two guys left about a half hour ago. Then Abigail’s husband came and picked her up. No sign of Megan.”

“Okay. I’m on my way.” He hung up, made sure his vehicle was locked and walked across the street. He tried the door of the building. It was locked. Good girl.

He knocked and cupped his hands around his eyes so that he could see inside. A wide corridor ran down the middle of the building. The boutique was off to the left and there was a furniture...no, that wasn’t right...an antiques store to the right. It looked like there might be other storefronts toward the back but the corridor was too dark to see much.

He pounded on the door. Hard.

And within seconds, Megan exited from the boutique. Looking...gorgeous. When she opened the door, he stepped in. “Thanks,” he said.

“No problem.”

He walked in a few steps and looked inside the open door of the boutique. “Wow.” Walls had been torn down to the studs and the old tile floor was half ripped up. A stack of hardwood flooring sat in the corner.

She laughed. “I know. It doesn’t look like much now but we made a lot of progress today. It will be ready by the time we get back to do the opening here. I’m confident. The same team has been working on our other three stores and I saw pictures today that were awesome. Can’t wait to see these places in person.”

She looked excited and happy. And now that he was close, he could see the multiple necklaces around her neck and her gold earrings that dangled down, almost reaching her shoulders.

His fingers itched to reach out, to touch. Give them a little jingle-jangle. But he resisted. He caught a whiff of her perfume and breathed deep. He’d expected something light and floral, but it had a sharper edge and he liked it.

“So your day went well?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said, as if she couldn’t imagine anything else. As if bullets hadn’t been flying the night before.

“So that means no one has shot at you today,” he said. “Yet,” he added, deliberately goading. He wanted her sharp, aware.

“That’s right.” Her voice remained pleasant but there was a flash in her deep blue eyes that she wasn’t quite so successful in hiding.

“These your bags?” he asked.

“Yes.” She walked over and grabbed the handle of the large rolling bag.

He’d used restraint before but now, he just had to say it. “It’s kind of weird, you know. That we met under the awning of the pizza place.”

“What do you mean, kind of weird?”

She knew exactly what he meant. “Weird in that you were already headed for my office later that afternoon.”

“Yes. I suppose it was,” she said.

No supposing about it. But he didn’t press her on it.

“Let me get that,” he said. He grabbed her bag in one hand and his suitcase in the other. She carried her garment bag, her umbrella, and a purse that was on one shoulder and crossed over her body to rest on her hip. It was yellow like her dress with a big white daisy for the clasp. Her shoes were white sandals with a high heel that did very nice things for her calves. And, of course, he was pretty impressed by her pink painted toenails that were clearly visible.

She was perfect in a cotton-candy kind of way. Except he didn’t think she was fluff. And that made her such a fascinating contradiction.

She had one weakness, for sure. Her love of her sister. Hard to hold that against a person.

She opened the door and they were on the sidewalk. She locked it behind them. “We’ve got a big drive ahead of us to Sedona.” She pulled out her cell phone. “Looks as if I missed a call. I had my phone on vibrate. But they left a message. It’s probably the car rental company. I thought they’d be here by now.”

She put the phone up to her ear to listen to her message. But almost immediately, he sensed a change, knew that something was wrong. Her shoulders tensed, her jaw became rigid. Her eyes... Was that panic? Distress?

“What?” he said, looking around. He felt open and exposed and motioned for her to get closer to the building.

She held up a hand. He could tell that she was starting the message again. And at the end, she drew in a deep breath. “Well, that wasn’t the car rental company,” she said finally. “At least I assume not,” she added, and then laughed with what sounded like nervousness.

“Who was it?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“What was it about?” He could feel his patience rapidly evaporate. He was worried about her. Her face had lost all color. “Maybe we should go back inside,” he said.

“Sure.” She unlocked the door. Held it so that he could pull their luggage in. Then she leaned up against a wall. She was very still. Very quiet. She was staring straight ahead.

“I’d like to help,” he said. “But you’re not making it easy.”

She nodded, as if in a trance. “That was a message from someone claiming to have information about the plane crash that killed my parents.” She looked up at him. “Yes, my parents were killed in a small plane crash. Sort of like your dad. And I probably should have said something last night when we were talking about your dad. But their crash was different. They weren’t flying the plane. They were the only passengers.”

He wasn’t going to tell her that he’d known about their deaths. “What about the pilot?” he asked.

She shook her head. “He survived the crash.”

She spoke so slowly, so distinctly, that he could almost hear a drumbeat between each word. “So he was able to tell you what happened.”

“Not really.”

They weren’t getting anywhere quickly. “Can you tell me what you do know about the crash?”

“It was a clear day. They’d been flying in the morning and had taken a break over the lunch hour. The crash happened shortly after they took off in the afternoon. Witnesses said they were banking for a turn and suddenly the plane went nose-down. They were able to issue a Mayday call but this was a small airport, with no air traffic operators on duty. The distress call was picked up by a regional airport but by the time help could be summoned, the plane had already crashed. The NTSB found no evidence of mechanical malfunction, although—” she paused “—I’m not sure how they could have. The plane was ripped apart.”

He knew what that plane had looked like. Probably had been a debris field that stretched for hundreds of feet.

“The finding was pilot error,” she said.

That was generally the finding if there were no mechanical issues. “What did the pilot have to say about that?”

“Not much. He couldn’t dispute the findings. He suffered a serious head injury, along with other very serious injuries, and has never been able to provide much detail.”

None of what she was telling him was super surprising. Commercial aircraft almost never crashed but with smaller airplanes, those in the general aviation category, it was a different story. There were plane crashes literally every week and, unfortunately, way too many fatalities. And more times than not, the reason was pilot error. It was no different than a guy who might miscalculate how slick a wet Vegas street was and slam into the back of a line of stopped cars. Pilots, many with limited time in the air, made bad decisions, generally as a result of not being familiar with the plane, the terrain they were flying over, the weather conditions, or the airport they were landing at or taking off from.

“And now somebody is calling to tell you that there is more information. Can I hear the message?”

“I guess.” She picked up the phone. Put it on speaker. Played the message.

It was a man’s voice. He spoke quietly, as if there might be the potential that he’d be overheard. There was no obvious regional or ethnic accent. “Your parents were killed. It wasn’t an accident. You better wake up and start smelling the roses.”

“Play it again,” Seth said.

She did.

“Again,” he prompted, thinking he might have picked up a little background noise the second time.

“No,” she said. “We’ve heard it enough. The words aren’t going to change.”

He didn’t want to push her. She looked very fragile. “You don’t recognize the caller’s voice?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Is it possible that it’s the pilot? You said he had head injuries. Maybe he’s... I don’t know, maybe he’s delusional.”

“It’s not the pilot,” she said.

“How can you know that for sure?” he asked. It was the most likely person to have information about the crash. The only person who had been there.

“I would recognize his voice,” she said.

“Are you sure?”

“I would think so,” she said. “Given that I almost married him.”




Chapter 5 (#u3fb1ebd3-7162-5994-aa5f-9f67b0daad95)


Seth scratched his head. “Come again?” he said.

She sighed. She so rarely ever talked to anyone about this. “We were engaged. At the time of the accident.”

“How old were you?”

“Twenty. We’d been dating since I was seventeen.”

“But suddenly you had responsibility for Abigail.”

“She was fourteen. It was devastating for her.”

“You’d lost your parents, too. And your fiancé was flying the plane. Couldn’t have been a walk in the park for you, either.”

She said nothing.

“So what happened between you and...the guy?”

“He recovered. A couple surgeries, so much physical therapy. But he was young and healthy and he worked really, really hard.”

“Who ended the relationship?”

It was a very personal question but she wasn’t surprised. She got the feeling that Seth considered very few topics as off-limits. “I did.”

“Because you couldn’t forgive him?” he said.

“Sort of,” she said, looking at her shoes. “Not for the crash. That was an accident. He adored my parents.”

“What then?” he asked.

“I couldn’t forgive him for continuing to fly planes.”

Now, it seemed, Seth had nothing to say. He just stared at her.

“Seth Pike speechless,” she said gently. “Why do I think that doesn’t happen very often?”

He shrugged. “You gave him an ultimatum and maybe he came back with the only answer that he could have. A pilot, somebody who loves to fly, can’t just give it up.”

“I understand. But for me, that was the wrong answer.”

“It might have been easier for him to give up a kidney. Or both kidneys. Throw in a spleen.”

He didn’t say it unkindly. More so just knowingly.

“We should go,” she said.

“What was your fiancé’s name?”

“Logan Lewis.”

“And you’re a hundred percent confident it’s not him?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you should call him. See if he’s gotten a similar message.”

She had not spoken to Logan in over ten years. Once their engagement had ended, there had been the intermittent card or brief conversation for the first couple of years, as if neither one of them could completely cut the cord. But then even that had stopped. Her college roommate had married his best friend. And while Megan was still friends with Didi, and made a point to see her when she was in New York, where the woman had moved after college, by some tacit agreement they never discussed Logan.

What would he say if she called him out of the blue?

But perhaps not out of the blue? Not if he’d gotten a similar message.

But surely if there was something new, Logan would have called her. He’d been a nice guy. That was likely to still be true. While she and Didi never discussed it, she was confident that he’d moved on, probably had a wife and kids and a pretty house in the suburbs.

“I don’t want to call him.”

“Where does he live?”

“I have no idea.”

He stared at her. “Would you know how to reach him if you wanted to?”

She nodded. “We have a mutual friend. But I’m not going down that route.”

He didn’t argue. Instead, he reached for her phone. “There’s a number.”

“I suppose that’s why I didn’t give it a second thought before I listened to the voice mail.”

“You’re sure you don’t recognize the number?” he asked.

“It seems sort of careless, doesn’t it?” she said, her tone thoughtful. “In this day and age when everybody has caller ID, to call from a number that displays. I’m sure there are ways to block that.”

Yes. He knew a bunch of ways. And most any idiot who did some research online could figure it out, too. “Let’s do a reverse lookup.”

Using his own phone, he brought up the website and entered the number. It took just seconds. “Marta’s Deli in Los Angeles. Does that mean anything to you?”

She shook her head. “No. I mean I’ve lived in California for my whole life and I’ve certainly been to Los Angeles a bunch of times. But I don’t recall that business. Of course, I might not remember a deli. I’ve had a lot of turkey sandwiches in my time.”

Again he used his smartphone, this time to pull up the home page for Marta’s Deli. It was simple with a clean design and some nice photos of food. He clicked on the About Us tab and found a picture of Marta. “Do you know this woman?”

Again, she shook her head.

He pulled up the address. “Recognize this street?”

She shook her head. “It’s a big city.”

“Call the number,” he said.

“What if someone else answers? I don’t know who to ask for.”

“Tell whoever answers that you got a message from this number but you couldn’t understand it and you’re trying to reach whoever left it.”

“This can’t be right,” she said. “Why would someone from there—a place I’ve never been to or even heard of—call me and leave a message like that?”





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