by Rachel Grant
She turned and cupped his face in one palm, while her other hand settled on his hip. If they were being watched, she’d play her part as girlfriend and enjoy every second. “No idea. I shared the elevator with him, but didn’t notice because I was reading texts from Trina.”
His nostrils flared, and he pulled back a tiny bit. The movements were small, but she’d felt his body stiffen beneath her hands.
“How’s Treen?” he asked.
Did he and Trina not get along? If so, it was one-sided. Trina only ever said good things about him. Plus, she never would have suggested they meet if she didn’t like the guy. “She’s fine. She was just checking in.”
She wanted to ask what was up, but this wasn’t the place or time. Over Josh’s shoulder, she could see C-IV making a beeline for them. She rose on her toes and brushed her lips over Josh’s. “Incoming,” she whispered.
He slipped an arm around her waist and turned to face Clifford Nielsen the fourth.
The CEO reached the fountain and stood beside them, as if the waterworks had been his goal all along. “Mr. Warner, you’re quite the celebrity now. And here you are with the lovely Ms. Foster.”
Maddie startled at the fact that he knew who she was, but clearly, he’d been alerted to her presence in the archive. He’d probably been given a copy of her driver’s license photo, which had been scanned into the system by security.
Both Josh and C-IV shifted to face each other. “Maddie,” Josh said, “meet Clifford Nielsen the fourth. Nielsen, this is my girlfriend, Madeline Foster.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Nielsen.” She offered her hand, and he took it, holding on a bit longer than customary. Like he was making some sort of point.
“Likewise. I understand you’re researching my grandparents.”
“Your great-grandparents, actually, and in only a roundabout way. I was searching for correspondence between Gladys and Clifford the first, and Otto and Sally Kocher, of Kocher Lumber Mills.
“Ah yes, wood and steel. Between our two families, we built most of Portland.”
“And your family business is currently among the Fortune 500, while Kocher Lumber Mills is long gone.”
“Well, Otto was short-sighted and for several decades didn’t plant trees after he cut them, while Great-Grandpa Cliff included steel recycling in our business model during World War II and never went back. Their product is rapidly disappearing, and ours is reusable.” He frowned. “I want to review your report before you submit it to the government and tribes.”
She’d expected him to ask her to delete her photos. This request surprised her. It was customary for archives to request copies of resulting reports as part of their research access policy, but that didn’t grant right to review prior to publication. She’d signed the Nielsen Steel Archive Access Agreement on the tablet when she submitted her box requests, and a PDF receipt had been emailed to her on the spot. “I will, of course, adhere to the access agreement.”
Did he know what that meant?
His blue eyes turned a flinty steel worthy of the family business, and she took that to mean he did. She was glad she was on solid legal ground, because C-IV could make her life miserable if he had a loophole to exploit.
He turned to Josh. “Convenient to find you here today. After you were all over the news last week, I dug a little deeper into both your background and your proposal to provide personal security services for our key personnel. I’m intrigued by what Raptor has to offer. I’d like to meet again and discuss it further.”
“Senator Ravissant will not attend any such meeting, Mr. Nielsen.”
“Please, call me Cliff. And I understand Ravissant won’t be involved. Get Hatcher here for a meeting in two weeks, and we’ll talk.”
“I’ll ask him, but usually his travel is planned far in advance.”
“I’m looking for a company that can handle on-site security for this building along with my other assets across the globe. Nielsen Steel is one of the US’s biggest steel manufacturers, and our European and African affiliates remain China’s biggest competitors on those continents. Now we’re looking at expanding into Indonesia. This will be a worldwide and extremely lucrative contract for a company like Raptor.”
“I’m surprised you aren’t attending the security symposium on the island of Nabat in Indonesia this coming weekend, then.”
“No time. I have business in Japan next week. Besides, I can choose my security team from Portland.” The CEO cocked his head. “Will Keith Hatcher be on Nabat?”
“No. Actually, I was supposed to go, but my priorities changed, so Keith decided to send another senior operative from our DC offices.”
“Then a trip to Portland two weeks from now shouldn’t be an issue. Three o’clock, Monday. My assistant will set it up.” The CEO nodded to them both, then turned and walked away.
Maddie didn’t dare say what she was thinking about the man’s presumption while they still stood in the lobby of his high-rise building. Instead, she turned to Josh and said in a falsely cheerful voice. “Shall we get some wine, then?”
Josh’s eyes narrowed as he watched the retreating CEO. “Wine. Yes. I definitely need wine.”
Josh wanted to be excited by the offer from Nielsen—after all, hadn’t he met with the guy two weeks ago, hoping to cut a deal just like this? But something didn’t sit right.
It was just too easy, given how fast Nielsen had shut him down when he realized access to Rav wasn’t part of the package. So what was the angle now? What did Clifford Nielsen the fourth want from Raptor?
The only thing that had changed since their meeting was Josh had been on the news defending a young man who was set up to appear dangerous. But that was off-the-clock volunteer work. While Raptor had lent their name and logo to the T-shirt—like a Little League team sponsor—the project was basic charity. Hell, there wasn’t even a tax write-off in it for Raptor except for the cost of the shirts, because no one was getting paid for anything.
But Nielsen was right about one thing: Keith would fly out for the meeting, no question.
This was what Josh wanted, wasn’t it? He needed some big clients to get the Portland office off the ground. Nielsen Steel was as big as it got in the Portland area.
Maddie discussed the wine with the waiter and ordered while Josh texted Keith and shared the news.
Keith’s response was immediate.
Keith: Wow. Great job. I’ll have to look at my calendar when I get to the office tomorrow, but I can probably shift things around to make a trip that way happen.
Josh: We can probably push it back if needed. His insistence on the date was just a power play.
Keith: We’ll play his game for now.
A moment later, he texted again.
Keith: I hear you and Maddie are hitting it off. I’ll see if Trina can get time off work and join me. She’d love to see Maddie.
Josh’s heart rate kicked up at the thought of seeing Trina again. One of the perks of moving here was getting away from her. Away from the guilt that had eaten at him for years.
He wanted to say no, but that would just raise questions he had no intention of answering.
He looked at Maddie, who sat across the table from him, patiently waiting for him to put down the phone and show her some attention.
He’d woken up this morning with her on his mind, his heart racing just knowing he’d see her today. Knowing he’d probably break all his rules and kiss her again. And she’d kiss him back, making those soft noises that drove him wild.
And now, with Trina in the conversation, he was again reminded of the physical similarities between the two women. Both short, fair, brown hair. Sexy glasses. Similar professions.
Was Maddie just a replacement for Trina in his mind? Was the rush of excitement he felt when he looked at her just an extension of his desire for a woman he could and would never have?
“What’s wrong?” Maddie asked.
He shook his head. “Everything’s fine. Just confused
by Nielsen’s sudden about-face.” He glanced at his phone. “Keith’s going to try to swing the trip. He suggested he bring Trina with him, if you’d like a visit with her.”
Maddie’s face lit up. “That would be wonderful!” Then her brow furrowed. “Unless…you don’t like Trina? I sort of sensed some tension in you when she came up earlier.”
“I think Trina’s great.” That was true enough. “Keith is a lucky man.” He didn’t want to overplay it, so he left it at that.
She studied his face for a long moment then said, “Tell Keith I’d love to see her.” She slowly smiled, “So I can pump her for information on all the women you’ve dated.”
He forced a laugh. “You can try, but she won’t be able to tell you much.”
The truth was, for the last four years, his love life had been little more than a series of one-night stands. He’d compared every woman to Trina, which was a lousy thing to do, but he hadn’t figured out how to shut down that part of his brain. In the end, he found he wasn’t interested in anything beyond superficial, and he’d made damn sure the women he dated were fine with that arrangement.
No one got serious, and no one got hurt.
Now, for the first time, he found himself comparing yet another woman to Trina, and Maddie was…ahead, for lack of a better word. But was it simply because Trina wasn’t here? Because they were similar? Or was Maddie Foster the person he’d been seeking all along?
The waiter arrived with the bottle of wine, and while Maddie went through the motions of tasting and approving, Josh texted Keith, letting him know Maddie was eager to see Trina. Task complete, he set aside his phone and focused on the woman before him.
“How is Desmond doing?” she asked.
“The media circus around him has finally died down, but just this morning, the Portland Police Bureau let him know he’s not under investigation—while the officer who refused to stand down is. He has ties to the White Patriots. As for Desmond, thank God for all those rolling cameras.”
“It’s weird how the White Patriots didn’t consider the cameras.”
“I think they didn’t consider that we’d have people there who would know how to fight unarmed. I think they were counting on Desmond—or any of us, really—to be carrying a weapon. And let’s face it, if he’d had a weapon on him, even if it never came out, that would be the story right now.”
“I’m glad he’s going to be okay.”
“The publicity has been positive overall. We get more people showing up at the trainings every night we have one.” It was one of the reasons he’d been unable to see Maddie in the evenings. He was taking tonight off, though. He needed a break. Needed to see her.
“That can’t be a bad thing.”
“Not bad at all, but it requires screening everyone to make sure there are no Trojan horses, or glory hounds.”
“Oh jeez. I didn’t even think of that.”
“Nature of the business.” He shrugged. “How did your research go today?”
“Pretty much as described to C-IV. I found letters by Sally Kocher to Gladys Nielsen, and Gladys kept a journal, while C-I’s notes are sporadic, he did keep most of the letters he received, as far as I can tell. I haven’t had time to read through any of it yet.”
“What’s next?”
“Painted Hills. I’ll be researching at the visitor center archives and visiting some of the places where Otto dug.”
“The Painted Hills are amazing,” he said. His take was far from original, but it was true. The rolling multicolored hills were one of his favorite places in his home state, and he hadn’t visited the region in far too many years.
“This is my favorite part of my job. I love research. I love discovering new sources of information. Even today at the archives was exciting. You never know what you’ll find when you open a box.”
She was beautiful as she spoke with such enthusiasm. Eyes bright, smile wide. He ached with the pleasure of being with her. This feeling wasn’t a substitute reaction.
He liked her. Not the idea of her. Her. Maddie.
“Will you come home with me tonight?” Her jaw dropped in a way that was both endearing and made him shake his head. “Sorry. I meant…I’d like you to meet Ava.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
He covered her hand with his on the table. “I am. But…she probably won’t make it easy.”
She held his gaze. Her mouth moved in the slightest of smiles. Invisible except to the most observant person. Or to someone who was fascinated by her. “Okay.”
He couldn’t help himself and leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. “Thank you.”
She gripped his shirt in one hand, holding him close to her, and kissed him, her mouth soft and sweet. “We aren’t getting involved,” she said against his lips.
“Nope,” he whispered. “Definitely not.” He slipped his tongue between her lips in the briefest of kisses.
“Good,” she said in a husky voice. “Now, take me to meet your niece.”
8
Ava Warner was not pleased to meet Maddie. At all.
She did that thing where she glared at Maddie whenever Josh or Owen weren’t paying attention. It made Maddie laugh because the pretty, willowy teen was so sincere in her annoyance and so very bad at conveying it in a less melodramatic way.
“Uncle Josh tells me you hang out with Nazis. You know we’re Jewish, right?”
“Ava,” Josh said in a warning tone. “I also told you Maddie has no choice but to deal with Troy Kocher so the bones can be returned to the tribe.”
“Troy is a piece of work,” Maddie said to Ava. “I don’t know if I’ve ever so thoroughly disliked someone from the moment I met them.”
“Yeah, I wonder what that’s like,” Ava said, heavy on the sarcasm.
Maddie burst out laughing as Josh turned to his niece in horror. “Ava!”
But Maddie kept laughing, and after a pause, a laugh escaped Owen too.
Ava glared at Owen across the dinner table—they were eating Thai food Maddie and Josh had picked up on the way home—but when she looked at the big, scarred former SEAL, Ava’s lips started to twitch, and a beat later, she was laughing too.
Josh sat there, shaking his head as the rest of them laughed.
When her laughter subsided, Maddie said, “Seriously, though, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who would go to a racist rally without a hood before. I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes and wonder what is happening to our country. And I wonder if it’s better that the hoods are off.”
“I think it’s better without the hoods,” Josh said. “Like I told Troy, a security specialist’s best weapon is our eyes. We see them. We can fight them.”
“Yet even when the cameras are running and they’re surrounded by cops, that guy who cut Desmond almost got away,” Ava said.
“We’ve got a long, ugly fight ahead of us,” Owen said. “Racism is built into the system, and some cops will focus on the Black man as the aggressor even when the white man—who is openly attending a white supremacist rally—came into the counterprotesters’ safe zone.”
“The purpose was to scare more counterprotesters from showing up at the next rally,” Maddie said.
“It’s having the opposite effect,” Josh said. “As I mentioned earlier, Bond Ironworks has had dozens of calls from people who want to stand up to the White Patriots. Every training includes more people. Honestly, it’s given me more hope than I’ve felt in a long time.”
Maddie wrapped a wide, flat noodle around her fork. “When is your next training session?”
“Tomorrow night, then we’ll take a few days off because Thursday, Owen and I are going to R&R. I won’t be back until Saturday. Then we’ll do another training on Sunday midday and more in the evenings next week to prep for the rally on the following Sunday.”
“Are you going to be able to continue with the volunteer work once you’re working for R&R, Owen?” Maddie asked.
�
�Not until I get a car. Can’t have Josh driving me back and forth all the time. But I wanted to see if R&R is a good fit before I get a vehicle.” He fixed his gaze on Ava. “Sometimes having a car—the freedom of it—is too much for me. I need to be certain I won’t slide back into temptation.”
“Why are you looking at me?” Ava asked without hostility.
“Because you’re young and going to high school.” He held up a hand to cut off what she was about to say. “I know you’re a smart girl. I know you can—and want to—make the right choices. I also know you’ve dealt with some shit, and self-medicating will hold a special appeal. It’s a slippery slope. I didn’t start with heroin, but I almost ended with it.
“Before I came out here, I told Josh I’d be a hundred percent honest with you about how drugs took over my life.” He held out his arm, showing her the track marks. “My addiction still owns me. I’m still afraid I’ll lose the battle. Even after three years clean, I can’t be trusted with a car. I honestly don’t know if I can ever be trusted with that kind of freedom. Learn from my mistakes. Let me be your cautionary tale.”
Maddie’s eyes teared at the raw honesty and vulnerability shown by this former SEAL. She’d bet the military man inside him hated showing this weakness. Yet here he was, sharing his greatest regret and shame in hopes it would prevent a troubled girl from following the same path.
Ava nodded and cleared her throat. “Thank you. I won’t forget.”
Owen nodded. “Good.”
A sharp buzz sounded, and both Owen and Josh looked at their phones. Josh cursed. “Raptor alert from one of our techs. Aww, fuck. Voigt Forum doxed us. Desmond too.”
A jolt of fear ran through Maddie, and her gaze jerked to Ava. The blood drained from the girl’s cheeks, her pale skin looking ghostly against her long dark hair. “What does that mean, Uncle Josh?”
Josh jumped from his seat. “We need to see what they posted.”
They all followed Josh into his office. He dropped into the chair and woke his large desktop computer. In seconds, the alt-right conspiracy theory website, Voigt Forum, filled the screen. The home page featured photos of Josh and the others lined up to protect the people who’d gathered to protest the white supremacist gathering. The article was about Raptor and Bond Ironworks and their plan to continue providing protection at future rallies. It included not just Josh’s address, but also a photo of the house they were currently inside.