Caballo Security Box Set

by Camilla Blake

  “I’m safe, he said softly, his lips brushing mine. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “I don’t understand what’s going on here,” Hannah announced. “Who are you people?”

  Ox gestured to Akker, sending him out of the room as the chime alerting us to someone arriving at the door sounded. Hannah straightened, watching Akker leave.

  “What is—”

  “It’s the Seattle police. They’re here for Johnny.”

  “Johnny? Why?”

  It was Hannah who asked the question, but Prescott studied my face as he answered. “It wasn’t about the will. I thought it was, too. But I think that was just a side thing, an added perk he was hoping would lessen the impact of his sins.”

  “Johnny? What did he do?”

  “He thought your great-gran was going to reopen the quarry. And that would mean that the quarry would be drained, and things hidden under the water would be revealed.”

  “I don’t…”

  “The car.”

  I glanced back at Hannah. “What car?”

  “He wrecked one of your great-grandfather’s cars and drove it into the quarry. He was afraid the old man would punish his father for it.”

  I tilted my head slightly. “All this to stop her from signing a contract?”

  “A contract she wasn’t going to sign in the first place. She doesn’t want that old quarry reopened any more than anyone else. Bad memories, she said.”

  “It’s just a lot of misunderstandings,” Ox said. “But Johnny has fully confessed, and your great-gran is on her way to the hospital. It’s over.”

  “What about the lawyer?”

  “Just bad timing,” Ox told me. “She had a heart attack; the coroner confirmed it this morning. Johnny thinks she only wanted to talk to you because of the new will he’d asked her to draw up. She wanted to make sure you weren’t going to contest it a few years down the road when it was time to submit it to the probate court.”

  “Then it’s over.”

  “It’s over,” Ox agreed. Prescott, though, was quiet. Still holding me, but quiet.

  I moved away and took the real will with its attachment out of my back pocket and handed it to Hannah. “I thought you’d want to see this. And the letter… I believe that’s yours.” I studied her face for a moment. “You might want to tell Johnny the truth.”

  “He thought he did a noble thing, marrying me. If I told him the truth, that Miles hadn’t left me pregnant and alone, that it was some other guy I’d cheated on Miles with, he wouldn’t look at me the same. And I needed him to keep loving me the way he did. No one else ever looked at me like that, you know?”

  I glanced at Prescott. “Yeah, I know.”

  Chapter 22

  Prescott

  “So, your father dated Hannah, but left her behind when he went on his walkabout—or whatever—but she was already pregnant and everyone assumed it was your dad’s.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then Johnny married her, claiming they’d been in love for years and that the kid was his.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But it wasn’t.”

  “No.”

  “And, before this, Johnny drove a thirty-thousand-dollar car into the quarry because he crashed into a tree and did thousands of dollars of damage to it.”

  “After taking it without permission.”

  “Everyone had a secret.”

  “My great-gran resented my father for not sticking it out with Hannah, so they fought about it a lot. But after he died, Hannah wrote a letter to her, telling her the truth. Feeling guilty for what she’d done to my father, and my mother, I suppose, my great-gran changed her will to split half her fortune between me and my mom and Zander. The rest goes to the town.”

  “She felt guilty for something that wasn’t even her fault.”

  “That’s my great-gran.”

  “She’s quite the lady.”

  Skylar kicked off her shoes and leaned back on the massive bed. “She is.”

  “Let me nap a little, then we’ll go see her. I’d like to speak to her.”

  “Of course.”

  I began unbuttoning my shirt, waking slowly to the bathroom. I could feel her eyes on me. She’d been watching me closely since I walked into the kitchen, almost as if she was afraid that I would disappear if she moved her eyes away from me. I turned and leaned against the doorframe, studying her in turn.

  “You called Ox.”

  “I was worried about you.”

  “I don’t think he would have hurt me. He was just buying time until he could figure out his next step.”

  “I know that now, but before… I knew if anyone could find you, it would be the guys from Caballo.”

  “You did it for me?” I knew it sounded like a petulant question, but I had to ask. “You didn’t do it because it was an excuse to see Ox?”

  “That’s a hell of an excuse to see my boss. If I wanted that, I would have just gone home and back to work, left you to your own devices!”

  I nodded, not unaware of the anger snapping in her eyes. But I still—

  “When I first moved into your condo, I found this note that was stuck between the pages of a book. I thought… well, it seemed like it was some sort of love letter to someone.”

  “A love letter?”

  “It said something to the effect that you lived in different worlds, but you thought you could—”

  “Oh, hell!” Skylar jumped to her feet. “I didn’t know you’d seen that!”

  “I wasn’t snooping. It just fell out of the book.”

  “That wasn’t… I mean, it was, but I never got up the nerve to give it to you.”

  “It was for me?”

  “Who else? I wrote it as a sort of confession that I was going to give you after our wedding ceremony. But then I chickened out because I didn’t want you to think you’d married some weird stalker woman or something.”

  I straightened, suddenly feeling like a fool. “It was on Caballo stationery. I just assumed it was meant for Ox.”

  “You think I have feelings for Ox?”

  “Well, if I were a woman…”

  Skylar shook her head, her expression softening. “I’ve had a crush on you since I ran into you in that hallway. You’re the reason I took that job. I mean, I love working for Ox, but seeing you on a regular basis was definitely a plus. But then you ask me to marry you and completely ignore me…”

  “Because I thought you were in love with Ox!” I crossed to her and lifted her face, forcing her to look up at me. “Why’d you never tell me that?”

  “Because I didn’t think a man like you would ever look twice at me.”

  “That’s funny, because I never imagined a woman like you would want me. I mean, I’m a flirt. And I’ve already had a bad marriage. And I run from everything the moment it gets hard. You deserve so much better than me.”

  “But you’re what I want.”

  I groaned, drawing her close to me. “I can’t promise that I won’t make mistakes, but I will do all I can to never hurt you. Ever.”

  “I know.”

  “I want to make you happy. Happier than you’ve ever been.”

  “You already have.”

  I sighed as I moved close to kiss her. Our lips brushed. And then I dropped to one knee.

  “Marry me.”

  Skylar laughed. “I already did!”

  “Let’s do it again. Do it right this time.” I took her hand and touched her ring. “With a proper ring that I’ll buy. We could even go to England—I’ll be able to get an American passport in a few months—and have a proper wedding with my family.”

  She nodded, tears falling gently down her cheeks. “As long as we’re together, I don’t care.”

  “But we can get a head start on the honeymoon right now.” I stood, and lifted her into my arms, carrying her to the bed. “I think we’ve waited long enough.”

  “Too long,” she whispered.

  ~~~

 
; MAX

  Chapter 1

  James

  “Well, there she is! Look at this, gentlemen—look who’s decided to grace us with a visit!”

  I took a bow, smiling broadly at the old men who clapped at my arrival. Only my father—my pops—could turn a simple visit to the assisted-living facility into a red-carpet affair worthy of any Hollywood star.

  “How are you, James?” one of my pops’ cronies asked. “Still kicking butt on the softball field?”

  “Softball? I’ve told you a million times, Milton, I don’t play softball. That’s for pretty little things who don’t want to mess up their manicures.” I held up my hands to show off my chewed-up fingernails. “I don’t care about broken nails. Give me a proper baseball and a good, solid bat anytime!”

  Milton leaned close to my pops and said, loud enough for the whole room to hear, “I think I offended her.”

  “Her? You offended me!” My pops pushed him playfully, sending him falling against the far side of his wheelchair. “Bugger off!”

  Milton laughed as he rolled himself away, the others following. I took a seat across from my dad, leaning forward to check out the poker hand Milton had left behind.

  “Not bad. He might have gotten you with this one.”

  “I doubt it,” my pops said, turning over a full house that definitely would have beaten the two-of-a-kind Milton had.

  “Sorry.”

  “I’d rather spend the morning with my kid than playing cards with a bunch of old farts.” He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, regarding me with a knowing look. “Whatcha been up to?”

  “I had to go out of town on a case. A friend, actually, disappeared while visiting his wife’s great-grandmother. Turned out the family butler was trying to force the great-grandmother into not signing a contract she wasn’t going to sign in the first place, and he kidnapped her and my friend to keep them from saying anything to the friend’s wife—who’s also a friend—and got in a little over his head. He ended up pleading no contest to a charge of elderly abuse, but my friend and the great-grandmother chose not to mention the whole kidnapping thing.”

  “No kidding! Sounds interesting.”

  I shrugged. “Not really. We were up there for about five minutes, did just the bare minimum of investigating. Turns out the wife discovered the smoking gun and put it all together right after we arrived. I think the most interesting thing about the whole situation was learning that this operative I work with quite often has actually been married to the boss’s assistant for two years!”

  “How’d they keep that quiet?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t you go and follow their example.”

  I laughed, smacking his leg lightly. “If I ever decided to get married, you’d probably know before me. Besides, I’ve always told you I can’t marry anyone who isn’t just like you and I’ve yet to meet a guy like you.”

  “I’m a one in a million.”

  I nodded, in full agreement with that.

  My pops was a cop for forty years. He joined the force right out of high school, back in the days when you didn’t have to have a college degree to catch bad guys; you just had to have a willingness to live on almost no pay while you put your life on the line every single day. He was still walking a beat downtown the first time he came face to face with the barrel of some perp’s gun, but managed to put on that uniform for forty years without once having to fire his gun. My pops was one of a kind.

  Forty years on the force, and less than a year after taking retirement he began showing symptoms of Parkinson’s. The little tremors that became bigger tremors, a whole cabinet stuffed with pills that didn’t do anything to calm the shakes. I’d wanted to move him in with me when it got to the point where he needed a little more help than just a visit from his daughter once a week, but he’d refused.

  “I won’t be a burden,” he’d insisted.

  This place was a compromise. He had his own little apartment—a sitting room, bathroom, and bedroom—but there were nurses who checked on him multiple times a day and a community area where he took his meals and hung out with other residents. He liked it here. It wasn’t quite a nursing home, but he wasn’t totally alone, so I liked it, too.

  But I never thought I’d see my pops in a place like this. He was my Iron Man. He was never supposed to grow old.

  It’d always been just us. I couldn’t imagine it any other way.

  “I was telling those boys about your work at that security place. They think it’s funny to call you a security guard, so I have to brag about the cases you’ve taken on.” He studied me a moment, pride clear in his rheumy eyes. “You’ve done some things I always wanted to do as a cop but never could.”

  “That’s because the law is a little less black and white for us, Pops,” I reminded him.

  “True. But it’s also because you have a better idea of what’s right and wrong in this screwed-up world.”

  “Nah. It’s all Ox.”

  My pops leaned forward, reaching for my hands. “When are you going to see what a genius that man is? And when is he going to see what a beautiful woman you are?”

  “Pops!”

  “You’d make a fine couple. And you could run that place better than anyone. You have all the experience a man could ask for! You got three medals! It’s not every day someone walks away from the army with the Distinguished Service Medal!”

  “I was just doing what I was trained to do, just like you taught me.”

  “You’re a brilliant girl, an asset anywhere you choose to spend your time. I couldn’t be prouder of you.”

  I smiled, patting the top of his hand. “I know, Pops.”

  We talked for a while longer, indulging in some gossip he’d gleaned from some friends who’d come to visit in my absence. My pops always claimed to be against gossip, but he sure loved to hear a story on one of his old precinct buddies. And I didn’t mind watching the animation on his face when he retold the story to me.

  It’d always been just me and my pops. He married his high school sweetheart and spent nearly twenty years with her before I finally came along. I was a surprise after multiple miscarriages and infertility treatments. It was one of those things; my mother thought she was going through the change, went to the doctor and discovered she was actually nearly five months pregnant. My pops always talked about what a miracle it was, that I came along long after they’d given up on the idea of ever being parents. Said my mother was over the moon from the moment she found out until the cancer took her two years later.

  Ironic, right? Something about the ovarian tumor that allowed her to overcome her fertility issues, but then the pregnancy delayed diagnosis and allowed the tumor to grow until it spread to her liver, her bones, and eventually into her brain. Was probably the infertility treatments that caused the cancer in the first place. Crazy damn thing.

  My pops… he’d always wanted a son, a child to carry on the family name and walk in his footsteps. That’s why he’d named me Jamison Wallace Duncan—Jamison for his father and Wallace for my mother’s maiden name—and insisted I be called James. He was a man ahead of the times. He told me once that my mother had worried I’d be bullied for my name, but Pops had assured her I would learn to stand up for myself. And he was right about that. I decked a kid in kindergarten for laughing when my name was called for roll. No one ever snickered at my name again after that.

  Someone asked me once why I didn’t go by Jamie. To be honest, until that moment, it had never occurred to me to do so.

  I drove to the office and straddled the chair in front of my computer, diving into the report I was supposed to write on the whole Skylar’s great-grandmother missing thing. I worked for nearly forty minutes, typing with two fingers, and was nearly done when my cell buzzed in one of the deep pockets of my cargo pants.

  “You’ve got James.”

  “Hey, James, it’s Skylar. Would you mind coming up to Ox’s office? He might have a new case for you.”


  “No problem.”

  I put the finishing touches on the report, sent it to Oliver for review, and jumped up. Max Lucas, the pretty boy who worked out of the cubical on the other side of mine, stood at the same exact moment.

  “Well, if it isn’t the little drummer boy!”

  “Very funny, Max.”

  “What?” He stared at me for a second, and then put on a big act of being surprised. “Well, James, I’m sorry. I guess it’s that haircut… confuses me a little.”

  I reached up and touched the side of my head. I’d had my hair cut into a style similar to what Katy Perry did a bit over a year ago, shaved the sides and back but left the top a little longer. I thought it fit my face almost as well as it did hers. Who wanted long hair when it only made rolling out of bed in the mornings that much more difficult? Besides, long hair got in the way and I wasn’t one to fuss over curling irons and blow dryers. I liked my hair the way it was.

  “Get a life, Max.”

  I grabbed my phone and walked off, headed to the elevator. However, when I arrived and reached for the up button, Max was already there, his long, slender finger already on the same button.

  “Are you following me?” he asked with this faux innocent fluttering of his eyelids.

  “Why would I waste my time doing that?”

  “Because the whole world knows that you have a crush on me.”

  “Bullshit!”

  Max covered his open mouth with a couple of fingers. “What a mouth, Ms. Duncan! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

  “What don’t you kiss with that mouth?”

  “Is there a little jealousy in that question?”

  “Go sit on a toad!”

  He laughed, the sound like rich caramel sauce flowing smoothly over a piece of pie. I wanted to smack him! Fortunately, the elevator door opened then and I stepped in, punching the button for the top floor.

  “Going to see Ox?”

  I rolled my shoulders, shoving my hands into my front pockets and rolling my feet in my heavy combat boots. I could almost feel Max staring down at me from over my shoulder, towering over me as he imitated my rocking motion. I could see the slight smile on his handsome face in the shiny wall of the elevator and wished to all the gods that ever existed that I could just disappear. Poof! Gone without explanation. But that wasn’t going to happen.