Maliki (Guardian Defenders Book 2)

by Kris Michaels

She smiled and the sheen of tears filled her eyes. "That's all I've asked of you. Thank you, for trying." His mother stood and walked with him to the grand stairway.

  He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I won't be able to stay for lunch today, and I have a friend meeting me here. I gave her the combination to the gate. We're going to park her vehicle near the garages and go together, if that's okay with you."

  "Her?"

  Maliki chuckled. "Actually, she's one of the sheriff's deputies. As you can tell, he's on a tear about me for some reason, and I don't want to make it harder for her. So, having her vehicle here, parked behind the house near the garages, will keep our secret from the sheriff and her away from trouble."

  "Of course, that won't be a problem. My staff is trustworthy and very discrete. Is this a new... relationship?"

  "Very new and nothing serious. But we need to keep it tightly under wraps. If anything were to get back to the sheriff, she'd be in trouble." He wasn't going to let his mother know about the investigation. Better she thought he and Poet were sneaking behind the paranoid and obnoxious sheriff's back to see each other rather than conducting an investigation.

  "I am the fount of discretion." She beamed up at him. "I shall not tell a soul."

  "Thank you." He winked at her and headed up the stairs to his father's suites. He found his father in his den, sitting in one of two massive recliners that hadn't been there when he was growing up. Neither had the large flat screen television he watched. Mal glanced at the screen. A documentary on Winston Churchill. "I didn't know you were a history buff?"

  His father turned at his comment and a lopsided smile tugged at one side of his face. "I'm not. I hate soap operas." The words, as usual, were slow and slightly slurred.

  "Well, that we have in common. I also despise reality television." He sat down in the recliner next to his father.

  "Bah… attention seekers. They want the celebrity and... money." His father lifted the remote with his good arm and turned the volume down.

  "I would agree with you. How are you feeling today?"

  "Today is good." His father turned to look at him. "I was a horrible father."

  Maliki closed his eyes and took a long breath. He agreed wholeheartedly, but he was here to find a way beyond that part of his life. "That is in the past."

  His father shook his head. "No. That is reality."

  He held his father's gaze. "We'll get there."

  "Tell me about you. I missed so much." The words his father strung together were tinged with hopefulness. Maliki's immediate instinct was to remind his father why he missed so much, but he stifled it. Neither of them needed the past dredged up. His old man had apologized. Getting past the hurt of the event was his baggage to lug around. His father's condition limited the time he had to make amends, and fuck it, he was trying to let it go.

  "Well after I left, I joined the Air Force..."

  Poet drove up to the estate gates and rolled down her window. She gave one final look down the long, deserted roadway she'd traveled on before she keyed the number and waited for the wrought iron gate to open. The drive to the house took her breath away. She'd never been to the Boswell estate, but the beauty and splendor rivaled anything she'd seen. Topping the ridge, she slowed to a stop. The home was absolutely stunning, but what drew her eyes were the manicured gardens that extended like a lace fan beyond the home. The hedges formed a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree arc behind the house and a multitude of colors filled the artistic creation with a breathtaking splendor.

  "Oh wow." She sighed the words and let her foot off the brake. She parked the SUV where Maliki had told her to park and got out of the vehicle. She straightened her summer weight blazer that covered the gun she carried in a holster at her back and the handcuffs that were tucked into a pouch secured to her belt. Her badge was clipped to the other side of her belt, also out of sight. She carried a weapon, even off duty, but today was different. Today she was taking purposeful steps to actively disobey her superior.

  The clothes were perfect for a follow up investigation, but not for... this. She stared up at massive columns and the front of the imposing architecture. She swallowed hard and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. Damn. Her nerves were on edge and the towering mansion she walked around was out of her league. She took a deep breath and spoke to herself, "It's a house." She snorted and shook her head. Maybe compared to the Taj Mahal... maybe.

  She walked up the limestone steps to the inlaid beveled glass doors and rang the bell. Holy shit. The muted sounds of Westminster chimes echoed from within. She could see someone approaching the door and stepped back a bit. The door opened, and a little woman wearing a maid's uniform smiled up at her. "Yes, miss?"

  "Ah… I'm supposed to meet Maliki here."

  "Oh, yes, please come in."

  Oh, wow. The wooden floors were exquisite. Darker inlaid boards outlined beautiful geometric designs along the outer edges and intricate patterns repeated from the front door to the… oh, the gardens! The house was split in half by the three-story high hallway. Two grand staircases led to different sides of the house. Three crystal chandeliers that rivaled the size of her patrol SUV were suspended from a fresco painted ceiling. "Wow." Her whisper echoed in the cavernous hall.

  "It's rather big, isn't it?"

  She whipped around at Maliki's voice. He trotted down the right staircase.

  "Big? Big is probably the understatement of the millennium." She pointed up to the light fixtures. "That's big. This––" she spun around with her arms extended from her side and her head tipped back "––this is ridiculous!"

  He laughed at her and grabbed her hand, pulling her back toward the door. "I'll give you a tour another time." He rushed her from the house.

  "What was that? What's the hurry?" she asked as he encouraged her down the stairs and toward the big black SUV he drove.

  "Unless you feel like going through an inquisition, I strongly recommend we get going." He let go of her hand and darted to the driver's side door, flicking the fob on his keychain, unlocking it.

  She jumped into the vehicle and put on her seatbelt. "I'm a big girl, I can handle a few questions."

  "Ah, well, after I brief you, you can handle a few questions."

  "Why? What did you do?"

  "I... Okay, let me back up a minute so you'll understand why I did what I did." He put the vehicle into gear and headed back to the front gate.

  "So, spill." She crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow at him in a silent challenge.

  "When I arrived this morning, Sheriff Watson was here."

  "No, God, he went through with that asinine plan?" She dropped her head back on the high seatback and groaned. "Fuck, what is wrong with him lately?"

  "I have no idea. I told him if he came after me, my family, or anyone I spent time with, that I would bring Guardian down here, and I guaranteed they'd run a probe so far up his ass they'd examine his fucking tonsils. I think that got his attention."

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. Things were getting crazier and crazier. Admittedly, she'd been responsible for upping the stress level by asking Guardian for help. Hopefully, Jim was just a territorial asshole. She shook her head and stared through the passenger window without seeing the manicured landscape. Something told her Jim was treading water and getting ready to go under. Something had him rattled. He was scared, and he was posturing and threatening to stop her from asking questions. The trip to Maliki's parents’, that was to try to get something to hold over him. Why? What the fuck was he so damn afraid of? She waited until they left the estate and turned onto the county road before she remembered the dash from the house. "So, the inquisition?"

  "I may have led my mother to believe we were dating and sneaking around behind the sheriff's back, so you didn't get in trouble."

  She blinked at him. "We aren't dating. We're hooking up."

  "No baggage, I remember." He glanced over and winked at her and then lit her up with that brilliant smile.

 
"Then why..."

  "I had to have a plausible reason to leave your vehicle at the garages, out of sight, especially after your dickhead of a boss insulted my mother and tried to intimidate her." He shrugged. "You could do worse than me."

  She lifted a finger. "One, I get the rationale, I do. It was just a shock to be told I was in a relationship." She lifted another finger. "Two, you didn't tell me that Jim insulted your mother, nor did you indicate he tried to intimidate her. You only mentioned he insinuated things, and you threatened to rain down all types of shit on him if he didn't behave. And three, I have no doubt I could do worse, but I doubt I could do much better. For a hookup, you're top-shelf."

  "Top-shelf?" He laughed at her.

  "Hell, yeah! You're a doctor, and my next door neighbor has deemed you as a sexy as fuck catch. You’re prior Air Force, that gets you mega points. It's so nice to talk to someone who knows what AFSC, AFI, PCS, TDY, Elements, Flights, Squadrons, Groups and Wings are!"

  "Speaking the same language does help, doesn't it?" He smiled that perfect toothpaste commercial worthy smile at her. "Speaking of which, I need to call in and bring my organization up to speed on the sheriff's latest."

  "There is a gas station about fifteen miles up the road if you need privacy. I'll step out."

  He shook his head. "I don't have any secrets." He grabbed his phone and hit a speed dial number before he put the phone on speaker.

  A voice growled, "I am so over this bromance."

  She swung her gaze to Maliki.

  "Senior Deputy Campbell is in the vehicle with me."

  "And?"

  "Can you conference Jared in?"

  "Standby."

  She glanced at the phone and dipped her head toward it. "Hell of a way to answer a phone."

  Maliki chuckled and scratched his beard. "Yeah, well, we've been talking a lot lately. I'm his favorite."

  "Bullshit." The disembodied voice spoke, and she allowed herself a laugh at Maliki's expense.

  "I'm on." Another, deeper voice came across the speaker.

  "Jared, Deputy Campbell is in the truck with me. I needed Joseph to bring you in because I believe the sheriff has become an issue rather than an annoyance. He was at my parents’ residence this morning. He insinuated a host of things; my primary concerns are simple. I'm worried about their safety, not only because of the weirdness of the situation, but because they don't have good security. Would you make some phone calls and get them hooked up? I'd prefer a manned front gate, a camera system, and they need the house rewired. They have an alarm system, but it’s ancient, probably easily manipulated."

  The deeper voiced man responded, "Consider it done. What is your secondary concern?"

  "He insinuated I was responsible for the hit and run accident that killed my former fiancée. It happened in July or August of the year I enlisted. I went straight from basic to tech school. My attendance is documented."

  There was silence before the first man responded. "I'm getting very tired of this guy. Can we get the background on him included with the original request?”

  The second man said, "I'm going to do better than that. Maliki, I want you to stand down on the interviews. This guy is tracking off course, and my gut is telling me he's volatile. We are going to push this up in priority and bring in a trained investigator."

  The frown on Maliki's face rivaled her own, but she held in her displeasure. Mal didn't. "I'm not going to fuck this up. Deputy Campbell is here to make sure I don't."

  "I'm afraid I'm going to insist. Until we have a better understanding of exactly what is going on down there, Deputy Campbell and you both need to watch your six, better if you are working together. Your sheriff is hiding something. He's terrified of you and trying to shake you or your parents into making you leave. When he gets notification that Guardian has taken not one, but two bodies from his medical examiner, he's going to do one of two things, lie low and pray shit blows over, or he's going to strike."

  "He has a third option." The first voice said. "He could run."

  "He could, but he can't hide." Maliki pulled over to the side of the road. "And what are we supposed to do in the meantime?"

  "Do what you were there to do in the first place, and keep Deputy Campbell close, real close. With the information you've given us, I make this guy as a snake in the grass, and while we don't know what's driving him, he is hissing and ready to strike."

  "I have a feeling being seen close to Deputy Campbell may be an irritant to the situation."

  "I'd rather you had backup, and a deputy sheriff that works for the man is a formidable obstacle for him to plow through to get to you. He wants things kept in the county, and quiet, remember?

  She spoke to the phone. "Will the investigator keep it below the radar?"

  "They will until we have the background information we need. Then we'll take what we find to the AG. You two watch your six. Dom Ops out."

  "Keep your asses down, ears open, and don't fucking get killed."

  Mal chuffed a humorless laugh. "I hadn't planned on dying."

  "Good. Too damn much paperwork. Whatever it takes, Mal."

  "As long as it takes."

  The connection dropped, and her eyes shifted from the phone to Maliki. They were parked on the side of the road with nowhere to go. "Well, what now? I've requested time off like we talked about."

  "You should probably take the time off, so you don't raise any suspicions. Do you have enough vacation time?

  "Well, despite what I tell my mother, I have plenty of vacation time accrued." She waved him off when he angled his head in question. "She always wants me to visit. I love them, but it’s like they think I'm still a teenager when I go home. It’s magic, I swear. I lose fifteen years of confidence, paying my own bills, military service and working as a deputy, not to mention all that time of living by myself. I'm twelve again, at least in their eyes."

  Maliki smiled sadly. "I'd covet that. My parents and I have never had a close relationship. We're working on that."

  The mood shifted. She reached over and clasped his hand, threading her fingers through his. "Care to talk about it? I've been told I'm a good listener."

  He shook his head. "We promised no baggage."

  "Meh, that's not baggage, that's history. Baggage, for the purposes of this hookup, should be defined as... anything that will make us parting company messy." She'd miss him, sure, he was a fantastic lover, but she was also a realist. He wasn't staying, and she'd probably be looking for a job by the time Guardian finished the investigation. Hell, she was tempted to put feelers out now. Jim's personality changes recently were troublesome. She'd started to notice the other deputies ducking away whenever he was around. It wasn't just her who wanted to avoid him.

  He lifted his hand and stroked his beard before he winked at her. "You better watch out, I'm easy to fall in love with."

  She threw back her head and laughed, "I'll take the risk." She knew, if she let herself, she could develop feelings for the sexy doctor.

  "You've been warned." He gave her a dazzling smile and put the truck into gear. "It's a long story. Have you eaten?"

  Chapter 11

  "Do you want dessert?"

  Maliki leaned back in his chair as their waitress took their plates. He glanced at Poet and lifted an eyebrow in question.

  She smiled a carefree, wide smile and nodded. "Let's share a piece of apple pie."

  He was full, but he'd indulge a bit. "Sure, and more green tea for me, please?"

  "Ice cream on that?" The waitress juggled the dishes as she asked.

  Poet nodded. "Yes please, two scoops."

  "You got it. Be back with it in a second." The waitress turned on her heel and headed toward the kitchen.

  "So, nobody told the truth?" She leaned forward, her thick red hair fell over her shoulder and she tossed it back with an aggravated flip of her hand.

  "Eventually, someone came forward. I don't know who. I guess it really doesn't matter. I'm assuming an investiga
tion was completed and my father handled the repercussions through legal channels. I was unavailable for two years and had legally changed my name after I hired lawyers to protect my trust fund and give me access to it via my new identity."

  "So, have you spoken to your father?"

  He nodded. "Twice. He's not well. He's had a stroke that left him disabled with partial paralysis. He also has dementia. We were visiting this morning. Nothing too deep or emotional. I don't think either of us is ready to go there, although we brushed up against it the first time we spoke. Today, he was quiet for a moment and then looked at me, and I could tell he was lost or maybe confused as to who I was. He became agitated then. It has to be terrifying suddenly not knowing where you are or who you're with."

  "What did you do?" She reached over and covered his hand with hers. The gesture felt normal and sincere. He turned his hand and their fingers slotted together.

  "Directed the conversation to what was on television. He seemed to settle down, so I sat with him for a while, thinking about my life since I left." He leveled a stare at her. "I've been through events and situations that rocked me to the core. Experiences I would never wish on anyone, but those crises made me who I am today, and I'm okay with this guy. He's a better man."

  She smiled at him and whispered, "I like this guy too." The waitress sped by and delivered their dessert and his tea. Poet squeezed his hand and leaned back, disengaging their contact.

  Contact that he missed almost immediately. Probably because he'd never had anyone to talk with about his family or about the things he'd been through. Of course, his employers knew the basics, but he didn't discuss the details, his feelings, or his hopes with them. Hell, he hadn't talked with anyone like that since... Clarissa. Those conversations were a pale, superficial substitute for what he longed for now.

  She handed him a fork before she took a bite of the pie. He placed his fork on the table and sipped his tea instead. "Aren't you going to have any?"

  "Maybe in a minute. You eat what you want."

  "Might not be any left."