Caballo Security Box Set

by Camilla Blake

  I nodded slowly. “I’ve thought about it. I’m a little ashamed that I didn’t finish my degree, but my work seemed to fill all my hours, you know?”

  “There’s no shame in liking what you do for a living.”

  “What about you? Why did you get into security?”

  Prescott adopted a pensive look for a moment. “I don’t know. Because it was easy and didn’t require a degree. Because I could get paid using the personality God gave me. Because Ox was impressed by me, and I liked impressing someone.”

  “Do you like it?”

  He nodded immediately. “I love it. It’s something different every day. I don’t think I would ever be content with a day-to-day office job.” He glanced at me. “No offense.”

  “None taken. I get it.”

  “I like being around people, and saving some executive from a stalker is just an added bonus, you know?”

  “You like to help.”

  “I like to feel like that proverbial knight on the white horse.”

  “From what I’ve heard from a few of your clients, you’re a lot more than that.”

  “Oh? What have you heard?”

  I giggled softly. “You’re quite the charmer, Mr. Armstrong.”

  “Yeah? My clients mention what a flirt I am? Does it ever make you jealous?”

  I blushed, turning my head slightly away so he couldn’t see it. “Why would it?”

  “Come on, now! I admitted that watching Akker and Max flirt with you is kind of hard for me. Why can’t you admit to this?”

  Because it would be admitting that I care, and once it’s out there, it’s out there.

  I shook my head. “I know there’s this thing where women tend to develop feelings for men they see as their protector or defender. There’s no point getting worked up about that.”

  “Then you don’t get jealous at all?”

  Sure, I did. I spent ninety percent of my time stewing in jealousy whenever a client called to sing Prescott’s praises, because ninety percent of the time it was a woman who spoke as though she would drop right there and give birth to his child if he just asked. I knew what a flirt he was. I knew how heavy he could lay it on sometimes, the opening of doors and the pleases and thank yous, the platitudes in a moment when a woman really needed her ego boosted a little. I’d been on the receiving end of some of that before I agreed to marry him, before he moved into my condo and became this silent lump who played video games on my couch day in and day out. Before he forgot I even existed.

  “Do you only flirt with women when you want something from them?”

  “Do you think I’m the only one? Have you seen the way Ox spreads it on when he’s trying to get something out of a woman? Now that man knows how to flirt!”

  I pulled my hand free of his. Yeah, Ox was a flirt. Most of the guys at Caballo were. But they weren’t the one I’d made a lovely dinner at home for, only to eat it alone because he ended up spending the evening in the company of some stranger at his favorite bar. They weren’t the one who ignored me when I tried to talk to him about my day or some interesting case that had come into the office.

  He’d stopped flirting with me because I’d given him what he needed. He no longer had to flatter me. The only reason things had changed here was because he felt like he owed me something.

  “You don’t owe me anything, you know. I walked into this fully aware of what I was getting into.”

  “I know that.”

  “In fact, you can go back to San Antonio tonight. This is the last thing I really need to do here.”

  “You mean we can go back.”

  “No; I think I’ll stay, hang out with my great-gran for a little while.”

  “Skylar, did I say something?” He pulled the Hummer to the side of the road and put it into park, turning in the seat to face me with this deeply concerned look in his eyes. “Did I hurt your feelings or something?”

  “No. I just… I think it’s time we come back to reality a bit. I asked you to come here; I asked you to be my husband for a couple of days. You did that. Your debt is paid.”

  He frowned, an expression that was just as handsome on him as a smile. He reached for me and I moved away, unhooking my seatbelt in preparation to get out of the vehicle.

  “When I said I felt like I owed you, I was just reacting to your anger. I was being a jackass. Please, don’t—”

  “We should go inside.”

  “Skylar, talk to me! What’s happening here?”

  I caught sight of myself in the side mirror, my hair bouncing in its ponytail, my eyes outlined with heavy, dark makeup. I was a child playing at a grown-up game. It was time I learned where I belonged and where I didn’t.

  I jumped down out of the Hummer, nearly turning my ankle in my rush. I could hear him leave the vehicle, too, slamming the door so hard that I could almost imagine the vibrations of the movement rushing under the sidewalk and up into my body. I hesitated just an instant as I reached the lawyer’s office door.

  “Explain to me what I did,” Prescott demanded as he came up behind me. “Tell me why you’re suddenly so angry with me!”

  I ignored him, turning the knob and rushing into the office. No one was in the outer office, no secretary or other clients. The place was almost eerily silent. And there was a smell that immediately made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  “Skylar…”

  Prescott’s voice trailed off as he noticed the same things I did. I crossed the room to the slightly ajar door behind the reception desk. Something told me I didn’t want to be here. Something made me hesitate as I stood there at the corner of that door. I didn’t want to open it, didn’t want to go inside, but something stronger compelled me.

  It was a simple office, smaller than my space back at Caballo. There was a desk in the center, a set of filing cabinets to the left, a set of bookshelves to the right. Behind the desk were tall windows that sported blinds, but the blinds had been opened and were allowing a glaring amount of bright sunlight into the room. It was almost like God was providing a spotlight for the woman whose head and chest were sprawled across the desk.

  I’d not known her well, but I knew her enough to recognize Tamara Olen. At least, the body that used to be Tamara Olen.

  I screamed, terror rushing through me in the seconds before Prescott grabbed me and pulled me into the safety of his arms.

  Chapter 12

  Prescott

  I kept stealing glances at Skylar, watching as she shook like a leaf while explaining to the uniform why we were here and what we’d found. Another uniform was standing in front of me, asking the same questions she was likely answering.

  “Why were you here today?”

  “We had an appointment.”

  “Did you know the lawyer well?”

  “No. I’ve never met her.”

  “What was your appointment regarding?”

  “My wife’s great-grandmother, Aurora George.”

  When I mentioned Mrs. George’s name, the officer’s attitude changed. He grew a little more respectful, a little more nervous. I got the impression the same was happening with Skylar and her interrogator.

  “Look, can I go be with her? She’s pretty upset.”

  The cop glanced at his partner and Skylar. “We should wait until the detectives arrive.”

  “Where are they coming from? Portland?”

  “Seattle. We don’t have our own investigators here, sir. It’s a fairly small town.”

  I turned away from the cop in something like frustration, dragging my fingers through my hair. They hadn’t even bothered to check the body and figure out what had killed the woman. There was no blood, no obvious sign of violence. My guess was a heart attack, but they were treating this thing like it was the first unattended death to ever take place in this county! It was ridiculous!

  “Can we at least step outside? If there’s a crime here, we’re contaminating the crime scene.”

  “Are you a cop, sir?”
r />   “No. But I’m in the security business, so I know a little about crime scenes.”

  “What kind of security? Are you a security guard?”

  I glared at him, crossing my arms over my chest to appear a little more intimidating. “No. I’m an operative with one of the most respected security firms in the country!”

  “Which firm would that be?” the uniform asked, his pen poised over his notebook.

  “Caballo Security out of San Antonio.”

  The man’s eyebrows rose. “Is that right? Never heard of it.”

  “You will if you don’t let me talk to my goddamn wife!”

  The cop looked like he was about to wind up for a confrontation, but his partner made a motion, indicating that it was okay to grant my request. Skylar immediately rushed across the room and came to me, allowing me to wrap my arms around her shivering body. I led the way outside, pulling her to one side of the empty sidewalk in front of the storefront.

  “You okay?” I asked, lifting her chin, insisting on looking into her eyes.

  “No. I’ve never seen a dead body before.”

  “It’s not pleasant. I’m sorry. I should have gone through that door first.”

  She shook her head, glancing over her shoulder at the lawyer’s front door almost as if she could see through it all the way to the inner office and the body lying half on that cheap desk. “I barged right in there. I thought… God, what happened to her? Did you see anything?”

  “I’m guessing a heart attack.”

  Skylar shivered. I drew her toward me, wrapping my arms around her as I cradled her to my chest. I was grateful she didn’t resist me. We stood there for a long time, her shivers slowly turning into a slight shake and then disappearing altogether. I don’t know how much time passed, but finally the detectives the uniforms had been waiting for arrived. Two men, dressed in cheap suits, barged past us and went into the office, one of them emerging again almost immediately to approach us.

  “Prescott Armstrong and Skylar George?”

  Skylar turned, but didn’t move away from me. She stayed close, slipping her arm through mine.

  “I’m Detective Verbeck. I have just a few questions for you.”

  “We’ve already told the uniforms everything we know.”

  The detective lowered his head in acknowledgement. “I understand that, but I need a bit more information for my report. What time did you arrive at the office?”

  I shook my head, sliding a hand down Skylar’s arm as she began to shiver again. “We had a nine o’clock appointment with Ms. Olen. We arrived a few minutes before that.”

  “What was this appointment in regards to?”

  “She was my great-gran’s lawyer,” Skylar said. “She called me and asked me to come in, but I’m not sure what she wanted to talk about.”

  “Why would the lawyer want to see you if she worked for your great-grandmother?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The cop nodded, rolling back on his heels a little. “Did you know Ms. Olen?”

  “I’d met her a few times. But that was over a year ago.”

  He nodded again. “May I ask what your relationship is to one another?”

  “She’s my wife,” I said, irritated by this whole situation. “I came as moral support. We had no idea the lawyer would be dead when we arrived.”

  “Of course. Of course.” The detective studied us for a long moment, like he was waiting for our emotions to cool, but I got the impression it was more about reading us, trying to assess our intentions. “The uniform said you work security?”

  “We both do.” Skylar brushed at her face as she turned more toward the cop. “We work for Caballo Security in San Antonio.”

  “Texas? You’re a ways from home.”

  “We came to visit my great-gran.”

  The cop nodded. “And that would be Aurora George? From over in Grain Falls?”

  Skylar nodded, her hand sliding down into mine. “I’d like to get back there to her. She’s been ill and I’m a little concerned about her.”

  “I understand. If you could just leave me a number or two where I could contact you if I have any more questions.”

  “Have you seen the body?” I asked. “It was natural causes—right?”

  The detective made an exaggerated shrug with the movement of his shoulders and the tilt of his head. “We won’t know for sure until the docs have a look at her, but it appears that way at the moment.”

  “I can’t imagine a small-town lawyer would make anyone annoyed enough that they’d want to hurt her.”

  The detective smiled, but it was one of those smiles that was more placating than anything else. “Those numbers? And, if you don’t mind, it would be helpful if you don’t go back to San Antonio for a day or two—give us time to determine if we’ll need you to answer more questions.”

  That didn’t sit easy with me. Not that I was in a hurry to return to San Antonio, but because this detective wasn’t being as up front with us as it seemed like he should be. From the moment we’d found the body, I’d assumed it was just a fluke, a natural death that had just happened to take place right before we arrived. But if it was more than that, what did that imply for Skylar?

  It might be my suspicious nature, but first her great-gran has a sudden, miraculous recovery, and then her lawyer ends up dead moments before Skylar was to meet with her? Didn’t that seem strange? And if the lawyer’s death was anything other than natural, that was a conspiracy. I didn’t like that idea.

  Skylar wrote our cell numbers down for the detective and we said our goodbyes. She didn’t speak the entire ride and quickly disappeared the moment we walked through the main doors of her great-gran’s home. I decided to give her space, thinking maybe she just needed a few minutes of silence to process what had just happened. It’s not every day that a person finds a dead body.

  I stepped into the sitting room, a bright room at the back of the house that looked out on the garden. Cheryl had emailed me early that morning, but I hadn’t taken a moment to see what she’d found. I pulled out my phone now and opened the file she’d sent, scrolling quickly through it. Most of the pills were exactly what they said they were on the label, but Cheryl had found two prescriptions that weren’t. A prescription for an antacid was not the right strength, which might or might not have been an accident on the pharmacist’s part. Not life-threatening, but maybe something I should mention to Skylar. The other, however, was more concerning.

  Ice. What the hell was ice?

  I read the description Cheryl had sent, wondering—not for the first time—where she got some of her information. Lethargy. Confusion. Memory loss. It all seemed to fit.

  Why would someone give this drug to Aurora? What was the motive? Did they want to kill her, or were they just trying to make her appear incompetent? And how did the lawyer factor in?

  That last question seemed fairly easy to answer. Aurora had told Skylar that the lawyer likely wanted to talk to her about a will Aurora had made. Aurora was a wealthy woman and there were few people in her life who would benefit from such a will. Maybe someone had grown a little greedy and wanted to hide that fact.

  That would imply that the drug used on Aurora was given with the purpose of taking her life, but perhaps that was the long-run goal. Perhaps the short-run goal was to make her more easily manipulated, to aid in encouraging her to rewrite her will. And maybe that had caused the lawyer some concern, leading her to call up Skylar. It made sense. The only question was who would have the balls to do such a thing. Who would benefit the most from this new will?

  There was only one way to find that out. I had to find a copy of the new will, if there was one.

  “Have you seen Great-Gran?”

  I guiltily closed the report from Cheryl before turning to face Skylar. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she watched me, clearly aware of my not-so-subtle reaction to the sound of her voice.

  “No. Why?”

  She shook her head, brushing past m
e to go into the garden.

  “Skylar, can we talk for a minute?”

  She hesitated, glancing back at me. “I appreciate everything you did back there at the lawyer’s office. But it doesn’t change anything.”

  “What happened? What did I say to upset you so much?”

  She turned to face the glass doors, her body leaning toward the outside, ready to escape from me. “I remembered that this is all just a game to you, that’s all.”

  “It’s not a game, Sky. None of it has ever been a game to me.”

  “Hasn’t it, though?” She looked at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “If we were back in San Antonio, if things had continued the way they’d been going, would you have done any of the things you’ve done with me over the past few days? Would last night have ever happened?”

  “I would like to think it would have. Eventually.”

  “You’d like to think. But the truth is, I’m just a convenience for you. I’m just the homely girl at the office who would have done anything for you. You never saw me until we came here.” She waved her arms around her, indicating the big house, the expensive furnishings. “You never even took the time to get to know me.”

  “I know you. I know you better than I—”

  “Stop, Prescott!” she brushed a tear from her face. “It’s been a hard day and it’s not even half over. I’d like to go find my great-gran and have a walk. Will you let me do that?”

  I nodded, a pain I knew well slicing through the center of my chest.

  “Anything you want.”

  She shot a dirty look at me before leaving, jogging across the patio. I stood there and watched, wondering if I’d misread everything that had happened these past few days. Was I really such a fool that I couldn’t see the truth that had always been right there in front of my face? I’d realized it within days of marrying her, understood that her affection for me wasn’t as romantic as I’d hoped it was. For the first time in my life, I’d misread a woman’s intentions. Unfortunately, it was the one time when her intentions were the only thing that mattered to me.

  I was in love with a woman who was in love with another man. Simple, yet tragic.