Order of Truth

by Lisa Caviness

  “Thank you, Lance.” Katarina beamed and placed her long thin fingers on his arm. Dark hair, twisted in an elegant chignon, emphasized her sensuous neck currently encircled by a sparkling diamond-and-ruby necklace. Warm memories of kissing that neck and more flooded his thoughts.

  Another voice broke the spell. “Lance. It’s good to see you.”

  The memories faded as he turned toward the voice and clasped hands with the CEO of Pilotscope Media, one of the top news media companies. “Lewis. Glad you could make it.”

  Lewis Schultz, a committed Order member, had been instrumental in rehabilitating Lance’s somewhat sullied reputation after his recent legal wranglings. After the Department of Justice dropped all the charges against Lance, Lewis suggested he sit for a number of television and print interviews. The interviews had included flowing accounts of Lance as a boss and business partner while painting him not only as a grieving son heartbroken over the deaths of his parents, but also as a devastated victim of a sinister plot. He’d blamed escaped convict Joe Wagner, for killing his father, Ivan Sinclair. Yet, the real truth was that he and his mother, Pia, had determined Ivan needed to die. Ivan made a weak Grand Commander of their family’s powerful organization, The Order. Pia and Lance had believed their goal of more power and money would fall short without someone at the helm who was capable of making ruthless, sometimes deadly, decisions to move them toward the target.

  After a meal of chateaubriand, lobster tail, root vegetables, and tiramisu for dessert, Lance worked the room. With a tulip-shaped glass of cognac in hand, Lance schmoozed with his rich and famous friends and colleagues. He danced with a few other women before requesting a dance with Katarina.

  She nodded and took his hand.

  Once he had her on the dance floor, he held her close. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” His hand splayed across her bare back as he stared into her captivating blue-gray eyes.

  She lifted her head to gaze at him and emitted a throaty chuckle. In her sexy Russian accent, she said, “You’ve already said as much. But I haven’t told you how handsome you look. You were born to wear a tuxedo.” They swayed in cadence to the smooth notes from the orchestra.

  “Thank you.” He pulled her tighter, enjoying the gentle swell of her hips under his hands. He leaned in close. “Come to my Tribeca apartment tonight.” Cognizant of the looks from other women, many of whom he’d bedded, he loosened his embrace. He could have any woman in the room, single or married. The power he yielded, both in business and on a social level, was unparalleled. Women desired him, and men were envious. The target on his back proved a constant reminder he stood atop the pile, exactly where the Sinclair heir and current Grand Commander of The Order should be.

  She flashed another smile and gave a subtle tilt of her head.

  Once the music ended, she stared up at him. “Thank you for the dance, Mr. Sinclair.”

  He dipped his head and whispered, “Your beautiful dress will look lovely on my floor.” He rubbed a thumb across her back before stepping away. The crowd parted to allow him to reach his table, front and center in the room. His carefully chosen tablemates rushed to engage him in conversation when he took his seat at the most visible location at the table.

  Twenty minutes later, his assistant, Casper Halvorsen, approached. Also clad in a black tuxedo, Casper leaned toward Lance. With his dark blond hair slicked back, the severity of his jagged features stood even more pronounced. “Mr. Sinclair. I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, but your presence is required upstairs. It’s urgent, sir.” Casper met his gaze then moved away with the stealth of an electric eel.

  Lance stood and buttoned his jacket, scraping his hands across the emerald cuff links at his wrist. “Please enjoy the evening. Excuse me.”

  Minutes later, he stepped into the elevator with Casper by his side. “We have a secured video uplink set up in the suite,” Casper said with a clipped German accent.

  Lance nodded. “Excellent.” When the elevator doors separated, he breezed into the room and approached a man sitting at the end of a shiny black boardroom table.

  Casper stood by the door, rigid and alert thanks to his years in the military Special Forces.

  The man at the table swiveled in his chair. “Lance, we’re waiting on your go-ahead.”

  Turning to the screen on the large wall monitor, Lance settled into a chair and stared at the warehouse scene splayed out before him. The setting almost appeared like a still photo until one of the three handcuffed men standing in the middle of a large plastic tarp shifted. Lance narrowed his eyes and nodded.

  The man pressed a button. “This is Peter Shaw. In our business we don’t tolerate leaks. You knew that and took the gamble anyway. Guess what boys, you lost.”

  One of the men puffed out his chest. “Shaw, you’re nothing but a hired thug. The FBI’s trash. I may die today, but you’ll get yours.” The man, covered in bruises and cuts, spat toward the camera.

  Peter chuckled. “I’ll take your pathetic attempt at bravado as the sentiments of the rest of you.” He leaned back in his chair and allowed the men on screen to stew in the grips of their last moments. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Proceed.”

  Gunfire erupted, and the three men lay crumpled in a heap. One of the shooters approached them and after inspecting their bodies, he nodded toward the camera. He scuttled backward as another man with a flamethrower stood wide-legged in front of the dead men. A swooshing sound exploded, then a bright orange fireball mushroomed in the building.

  Lance smiled and stood. “Good work. How’s our other campaign?”

  “Complete and successful. Sends a serious message to others considering stepping out of bounds.” Peter gathered his briefcase from the floor.

  “Good work, Peter. I’ll expect a full security briefing in the morning. In the meantime, grab a drink downstairs. The liquor is flowing, and the women are primed.” Lance patted Peter on the shoulder as they headed for the door.

  Casper opened the door and stood aside.

  “I think I will.” Peter smoothed back his light-brown hair and sauntered into the corridor.

  “Casper, have my driver bring the car around. I’m headed to my Tribeca property for the night.” Visions of Katarina naked on his bed danced through his head as he approached the elevator.

  Casper stepped closer to his boss. “Sir, you have a phone call.”

  Lance shook the cuffs of his designer jacket. “Who is it?”

  “Your wife, sir.”

  Chapter 5

  Cody cursed again as he tossed the useless phone on the passenger seat. A crackle of lightning charged across the sky. Cell service was down, probably because of the storm. He cut the headlights, coasted into the driveway, and drove to the back of the house. The house appeared quiet, but he spotted a light on.

  He inhaled. An hour after he’d given Reid an update on his new position, Reid and Adam called back. They informed him about what happened with Lila and asked if he’d join her at the safe house. He’d already planned to check on the surveillance setup, but still, his heart thundered at the notion she could be in danger.

  He grabbed his laptop bag and backpack and climbed the steps to the back door. Punching in the code, he waited as the lock clicked. When he stepped into the kitchen, he noticed the light under the microwave mounted over the stove giving off the only illumination.

  “Don’t make a move.”

  “Lila?” Cody stilled and shot his hands skyward. He stepped closer. “It is you.” Part of him wanted to wrap her up in his arms but the more logical part of him remained rooted. She just might shoot him, and he couldn’t blame her.

  “Cody? What are you doing here?” Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him.

  “Reid called. He told me what happened and that you were headed to the safe house.” He shifted but kept his arms up. His gaze swept over her. Lila was even more beautiful than the last time he saw her. She’d let her hair grow longer and the now flowy brown waves casc
aded over her shoulders. Gray sweatpants molded to her figure and a red shirt with The Ranch printed in the center, fit snugly over her breasts. Her casual look reminded him of their time spent studying together during college. Lila at Harvard, and he close by at MIT, had been a dream come true for the both of them. Then one day their relationship ended.

  “You can tell Reid I’m safe.”

  He nodded. “Do you think you could lower your weapon?”

  She raked her teeth over her lower lip. The gesture was sexy as hell, but all Cody could do was swallow.

  Lowering the gun, she stepped back, maintaining her glare. “I didn’t think it could get worse.” She let the comment hang in the air before adding, “But I can take care of myself. What are you doing here?”

  “I told you Reid called—”

  “I mean what are you doing in Dallas?” She remained cemented to her spot between the kitchen and living room.

  “I came to work on the network.” He glanced at the surroundings. The Alliance hadn’t had the house for long. Cody had promised Reid he’d make sure the secured VPN, virtual private network, was set up on house’s computer as well checking on the other safety mechanisms inside and around the house.

  “You traveled all the way to Texas to work on the network?” She tugged on the hem of her T-shirt as she waited for his answer.

  Cody took a deep breath. “Not exactly. Lila, I live here now. I’ve been in Dallas for six months, working as a software engineer.”

  A crack of lightning and a deep grumble of thunder highlighted her shocked expression. “You live here, in Dallas?” She swallowed.

  They once shared an amazing bond, so strong that her shock that he’d moved appeared foreign. They’d shared inside jokes, their fears, and dreams. Now she didn’t know where he lived. The idea was like a gut punch.

  “Great.” Lila stepped back. She stalked across the room, stuffed the gun into her purse, and swung the strap over her shoulder. “This is Alliance property. You don’t need my permission to stay. I’ll take the first bedroom at the top of the stairs.”

  Her footsteps retreated punctuated by the closing of a door. He’d been so worried about Lila’s safety that he hadn’t stopped to consider her reaction to seeing him. They’d run into each other at Alliance meetings but to spare her feelings, he’d stopped attending in person and conferenced in. Now, for the first time in five years, they would sleep under the same roof.

  He checked the lock on the kitchen door, then every window and door in the house. The storm intensified, but so far the power remained on.

  With his secured phone, he contacted Reid. “I’m at the safe house. Lila is okay but mad as hell to see me here.”

  “Her safety is more important right now,” Reid said. “The death of her law mentor may be unrelated to Lance or The Order, but until we know for sure, we can’t take any chances. Keep an eye on her.”

  “Will do. Even though she’s pissed at me, I think she’s glad to have someone around.”

  “I’m arranging for the entire group to meet in Dallas in a day or so.”

  “Good. I’ll check in later.” Cody powered off the phone and headed into the office.

  An hour later, Cody’s head snapped up from his laptop when the lights went out. He drew his weapon from the holster and reached for a flashlight near the counter where he’d been working.

  The power outage was likely due to the weather, but he couldn’t take any chances. Suddenly, he remembered Lila hated the dark. He bounded the stairs two at a time, arriving upstairs in record time. “Lila!” He rounded the corner and ran into her just outside her bedroom door. For a second his flashlight illuminated the panicked look on her face before she cast her gaze downward.

  “Cody.” She expelled a sigh and tucked her weapon back into the purse she’d slung across her body. “Is it the weather?”

  He detected a slight quiver in her voice as he shifted his flashlight to the dark hall. “Probably.” He wanted to take her hand, but he didn’t dare.

  With the additional light, Lila’s shoulders relaxed. “I think the circuit breaker box is in the laundry room.”

  Cody peered out her bedroom window. “Looks like a few other houses lost power but let’s stay away from the windows. Just in case.” He turned. “Stay here. I’m going to search the house and then check the circuit breaker.”

  Lila glared at him, her hazel eyes blazing. “If you weren’t here, I’d be handling this myself.” She pulled out the gun again.

  The heat in the room jumped a few degrees. Cody doubted the nonfunctioning air conditioner was completely to blame. He followed her out the door. In silence, they searched every room in the house and found nothing alarming. Once in the laundry room, he checked the circuit breaker and found it had been tripped. “Must be the storm. I’ll turn on the generator.”

  She nodded and wrung her hands together.

  Cody prayed the generator was in working condition. More than anything right now he wanted to bring her light to ward off the dark shadows.

  Chapter 6

  Rubbery legs threatened her rigid stance as her stomach flip-flopped. The flashlight beam illuminated a set of candles on the fireplace mantle. She lit them and set one candle on the coffee table and the other on an end table. Sitting on the edge of the sofa, she continued to sweep the room with her flashlight beam. Another crash of thunder made her jump. “Just a storm,” she said under her breath “Do you need any help?” she called.

  “No, we should have lights in a sec,” Cody replied.

  She settled back against the sofa. When she got up that morning, she never imagined she’d be huddled over Jack’s dying body, and by night, holed up in a house with Cody. The last time she’d seen Cody he’d been a guilt-ridden boy. The person who rushed to her room when the lights went out was a man, a jaw-droppingly handsome man. Wide shoulders led to ripped biceps which trailed to a slim waistline, and muscular legs. He’d built some muscle, a lot of muscle in all the right places. His dark brown hair swept up on top with the sides cut short created a visual reminiscent of a male fitness model. Stubbly facial hair rounded out his manly appearance. Definitely not the same Cody she’d known, at least on the outside.

  A few select lights came back on as Cody burst into the room. “The generator will power the essentials like the furnace, AC, stove, refrigerator, and certain lights.”

  “I’m glad we don’t have to sit here in the dark all night.” She jumped when another crack of lightning lit the sky. “I’m going upstairs.”

  “I think it would be best if you stayed down here. The lights won’t be on in the bedrooms.” Cody sank onto a chair across from her, placing his laptop bag on the floor. One small lamp lit in the corner didn’t offer much light.

  Lila hesitated, then stalked to the bookshelf when she saw more candles. She lit the wicks and placed them on the coffee table. The room swirled with an amalgamation of scents—vanilla, lavender, and cinnamon. The flickering flames created romantic feel they didn’t need, but at least they weren’t in the dark.

  “Just a power outage,” she said under her breath.

  “I guess not every bad thing is the fault of The Order.” He offered her a slight smile.

  “Guess not.”

  After a few awkward minutes, Cody cleared his throat. “Are you hungry? I can see what’s in the kitchen?”

  “No, but feel free to help yourself. I only intended to stay overnight so I didn’t check the pantry but I’m sure you’ll find something.”

  “I’m sorry about your law mentor. Finding him in that condition had to be a shock,” Cody said.

  Had his voice changed? Could it really be deeper? Cody had been in his early twenties when they parted, well past the squeaky-voiced puberty stage. She nodded, unwilling to engage in a conversation. Yes, she was being juvenile, but his presence had thrown her.

  Cody rubbed the stubble along his cheek. “Look, I don’t mean to make your life more difficult right now. You’ve had a helluva day.
If my being here makes you uncomfortable, I can move to that corner and you can pretend I don’t exist.”

  Before she arrived at the safe house her father, Dan Caldwell, had called, worried about his oldest daughter. She’d brushed over his concern and rejected his offer for her to come stay with him and her stepmother, Patty. The last thing she wanted was to expose her family. Her stepsister, Jenna, was away at college but Brent, was a high school senior and still at home. Instead, she’d called a hotel and made a reservation.

  After parking her SUV in the lot and checking in, she spent a few minutes inside the room then went down to the bar and ordered an iced tea. Lila had forced herself to sit for twenty minutes before she told the waitress to charge her room for the beverage. Escaping to the ladies’ room, she had changed into jeans and a loose hoodie. Her dark hair covered with a short blonde wig, she’d slapped on a Texas Rangers baseball cap. Slipping out a back door of the hotel, she had walked three blocks to a parking garage. With her weapon in the pocket of her hoodie, she’d raced to the third floor, parking space number twenty-seven. After finding the key in a magnetic box under the bumper and settling into the drivers’ seat, Lila had clicked the door locks and expelled a loud sigh. Then she’d started the five-year-old white sedan and made the thirty-minute drive to Hinko Lake and the safe house.

  She blew out a breath. “It’s been a rough day. I didn’t expect to see you, and I don’t know how to deal with all this right now.”

  Cody nodded. “That’s fair. I’ll be up front with you. I won’t let anything happen to you while I’m around. That may be weird for you, but that’s the way it is. We have a past and we don’t need to deal with that now.”

  “Thank you.” She managed a wan smile. “I really don’t mean to be an ass.”

  Cody chuckled as he stood, walked into the kitchen, and returned with two bottles of water. “So, you work for a big law firm. How do you like it?” He handed her the bottle.

  She stared at the bottle, amazed by the gesture. He was kind of being wonderful, but she couldn’t forget what he put her through. As she accepted the bottle, their hands touched. The lightning-quick contact resembled the electricity charging through the night sky, extraordinary and intense. “Thanks,” she said, her voice thick. “My job is good.”