COLE (Dragon Security Book 1)

by Glenna Sinclair

  “Have they found anything?”

  “Ash is on his way to talk to you.”

  “Why?” I asked, hairs rising on the back of my neck.

  “He wanted to speak to you in person.”

  “About the alarm? Or about Kate?”

  David was quiet for a moment and that told me what I needed to know.

  “Tell him I’ll be waiting.”

  “Listen, Donovan, Kirkland’s been caught in more than one compromising position. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not Kirkland.”

  I disconnected the call and thought about texting Joss. If she had her case nearly wrapped up, maybe we could work something out. She would be the perfect companion for Kate. If she didn’t speak, she wouldn’t have to worry about Kate provoking her into an argument. And maybe Kate would have a great sounding board to get out all her frustrations and pent up anger.

  But I didn’t.

  I paced the living room, waiting. Kate came out of the bedroom, dressed in a pair of jeans that were a size too big and an oversized sweater that looked more like a blanket draped over her body than an article of clothing. She didn’t say anything; she didn’t even look at me, just took a seat on the low couch.

  “Ash is on the way to let us know what’s going on.”

  I watched her face for a reaction to Ash’s name. But she just shrugged.

  “What happens then?”

  “We stay here for a while.”

  “Then I guess work is out of the question for tomorrow.”

  I glanced at her, but she wasn’t looking at me. She was staring at the floor. With a heavy sigh, I went to her, sitting on the edge of the coffee table in front of her and taking her hands in mine.

  “I know this is all disconcerting, but we’re trying to keep you safe.”

  “And if there was someone outside my house? What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. Have you remembered anything?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve tried. But that whole day is just a big blank.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  “What if I never remember?”

  “It doesn’t matter. The cops are working on it. They’ll find whoever did this to that security guard—”

  “Joe.”

  I nodded, a little surprised by the forceful way in which she said it. But I knew why. I’d known plenty of soldiers who’d lost friends and were forced to listen to people refer to them by almost any term other than their name. It was dehumanizing and that was painful to people who still felt that person’s presence as acutely as they had when they were alive and well.

  I knew how that felt.

  “Joe,” I said. “They’ll find who killed Joe and you can go back to your life.”

  She turned her hands, laced her fingers with mine. I thought she was going to say something, but the door opened and Ash was there, watching us silently from the across the room.

  I pulled away and stood, watching as Ash approached Kate.

  “How are you, Miss Thompson?”

  She sat back and glanced at him, but then her eyes went down to where her hands were clutched in her lap. “How would anyone be after being yanked out of their bed in the middle of the night?”

  “I understand that this process can be frustrating, but your father hired us to keep you safe and that’s exactly what we’re trying to do.”

  “I understand that.”

  Ash glanced at me and I offered him all I could: a little shrug.

  “If you’ll excuse us, I need to speak to Donovan for a second.”

  “Whatever,” Kate said as she drew her legs up underneath her, busy working on a torn cuticle now.

  Ash gestured for me to follow him into the kitchen.

  “I want to apologize for what you saw on the monitors,” I began the moment we were out of earshot. “I realize it’s hardly professional—”

  “We can talk about that when this is over,” Ash said. He looked me over for a long second as though checking for wounds. “Did you hear or see anything when you were getting her out of the house?”

  I shook my head. “Not a sound.”

  “The advance team found tool marks on her bedroom window. They think someone was trying to jimmy the window open.”

  My heart sank. I was really hoping the alarm had been a false alarm, that a neighborhood cat or a raccoon had set it off. But now…there was a real threat against Kate.

  “Do you have anything else? Fingerprints?”

  “Not yet. I’ve called Emily and she’s on her way here.”

  “Good.”

  I turned and glanced into the living room, making sure Kate was still sitting where we left her. She was, her attention caught quite soundly by that pesky cuticle.

  “Do I need to arrange for someone else to take over here?”

  I turned back to Ash. “No, sir. Like I said, what happened before—”

  Ash laid his hand on my shoulder. “I’m not worried about the appropriateness of it. I’m concerned about you. With your history with Kate, I just—”

  “It won’t happen again.”

  “Can I ask a private question?”

  I was a little surprised that he would ask such a question. Ash was the closest thing I had to family, Ash and David and the others back at Gray Wolf. My parents were never really parents. I went to see them once a year out of a sense of obligation, but my true family was at Gray Wolf.

  “You know you don’t have to ask.”

  Ash glanced toward the living room, then focused hard on me. “Why do you let her blame you for what happened to her brother? I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but David showed me the police reports on the attack and there’s nothing—”

  “I’ve seen them.”

  Ash nodded. “It wasn’t anything you did. It was Joshua’s attempt to defend his sister’s honor that set the whole thing in motion.”

  “Yes, well, it is partially my fault if you look at that way. I was, after all, the guy she was sneaking around with in the weeks leading up to graduation.”

  Curiosity danced in Ash’s eyes, but he didn’t ask.

  “Why not tell her the truth?” he asked instead.

  “Because it would crush her if she thought that it was in any way her fault. Because I can’t put that burden on her.”

  Ash shook his head. “So much damage from one kid’s stupid actions.”

  I knew he was talking about John Kyle, the teenager whom police determined was the instigator of the fight and the perp who wielded the rock that took Joshua’s life after two days in a coma. But it felt like a comment aimed at Joshua—and that made my spine stiffen a little.

  “He was supposed to be a doctor. Can you imagine how many lives he might have saved if he hadn’t died?”

  Ash focused on me, his eyes filled with a sort of compassion that wasn’t quite pity, but wasn’t quite not pity either. Coming from anyone else, I would have resented it. But this was Ash, the guy I’d been to hell and back with. This was a man who deserved as much pity as anyone, what with the disappearance of Alexi. So I didn’t resent it.

  “Things change. He might have changed his mind.”

  “No. We were both planning on leaving for Stanford a week after graduation. We had a fellowship his dad had arranged for us through a friend. We had our whole future outlined for ourselves. Premed, medical school. Hopefully we’d match at the same hospital for our residency and fellowship.”

  “You were going into medicine, too?”

  I shrugged. “Ironic that I chose explosives instead, isn’t it?”

  Ash again patted my shoulder. He was about to say something when Kate called out, fear in her voice.

  “Someone’s here!”

  Chapter 12

  Kate

  I was fuming. It seemed like every time Donovan had a moment alone with me, someone reminded him why he was really with me. I just wanted a minute; I just wanted to feel his hand in mine and wanted to taste his kiss
. But they were always there.

  And then those bitter thoughts started biting away at that desire.

  How could I want him? After what he did? He was Joshua’s best friend, but he put him in a position that led to his death.

  Sometimes I had nightmares. Sometimes I was there when Joshua was beaten, but I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t stop it. All I could do was scream.

  But I wasn’t there. I was at Donovan’s house with him, in his childhood bedroom that was so sanitary that it might as well have been a guest room in the home of someone who suffered from obsessive-compulsive disorder. It was so clean and tidy that I was afraid to touch anything. That was, of course, until he touched me.

  We knew Joshua expected us at the party—to arrive separately, of course—by midnight. But we lingered longer than we should have. It wasn’t just the physical part of it—though that was more magical than I’d expected my first time to be. Friends warned me it would be painful, that it would be awkward and embarrassing. It wasn’t. Donovan was gentle and kind, as nervous as I was. Beyond that…we talked. Donovan and Joshua were headed off to Stanford. I was headed to the University of San Francisco just across the bridge. We talked about getting an apartment together our sophomore year. We talked about all the activities we would do together, all the firsts we would share. We talked about the future—when we had a future.

  By the time we got to the beach, Amanda was frantic. She rushed up to the parking lot, screaming about my missing brother. Joshua had gone to get some more beer from a local convenience store—with a fake ID—hours ago but hadn’t come back. But his car was there, parked right next to where Donovan had parked his.

  “I’ll go north,” Donovan said. “You go south.”

  I ran. I knew this section of the beach like the back of my hand because it was where we hung out. It was like an extension of the high school. I stopped and asked everyone I passed who wasn’t too drunk to understand words if they’d seen him. I ran up and down the beach, twice. Three times. And then Donovan’s text.

  I found him. Don’t come.

  Of course I went. I ran. And he was there, on the beach, his blood washing away with the tied. Tears were running down Donovan’s face. I’d never seen a man cry, not even my dad when my mom died. That frightened me more than the bloody mess that was my brother’s face.

  There was a rock. I remember thinking it was odd, that rock, just sitting there. I didn’t realize it was the murder weapon at the time because we didn’t know what had happened at first. The ambulance came, the paramedics trying to clear his nose and mouth so that he could breathe. They worked on him so long that I didn’t know what to think. Then the ambulance left and Donovan grabbed my hand, dragged me to his car so we could follow. I vaguely remember him calling my dad, telling him what had happened. I think that was the first time I heard someone say the word beaten.

  The rest…it was a blur. But when they told us that John Kyle, Reese Connor, and Tony Smith were arrested, I knew. And I knew it was Donovan’s fault.

  I was there when Joshua warned him to be careful.

  “It was just a prank,” Donovan said. “One last hurrah before graduation.”

  “Yeah, but to pin it on John Kyle and the others? Not smart,” Joshua said. “I heard that John was arrested last month for stealing a car. Not the kind of guy you should be getting tangled up with.”

  “John’s harmless. Just a wimp trying to pretend he’s a tough guy. I can deal with him.”

  “Yeah, well, I hope so. Otherwise you might have just put into motion something we’ll all regret.”

  Joshua knew what Donovan had done. And he was the one to pay the price.

  I glanced toward the kitchen and caught Ash peeking out at me. I inclined my head and he turned away, going back to Donovan. He touched his shoulder, saying something that clearly upset Donovan. I could see it in his eyes—even if he restrained himself from showing it in any other way.

  I knew him so well. Loved him once upon a time.

  Maybe that was what it was. Maybe that part of me that loved him then wanted to finish what we started that night. Maybe I just needed to get him out of my system.

  Maybe I just…

  Was it my imagination, or was someone rattling the doorknob?

  “Someone’s here!”

  I stood, moving back as far into the corner of the room as I could get. Ash and Donovan came immediately, Donovan watching me, the gun I’d seen earlier in the evening suddenly back in his hands. Ash, too, holding a gun low in front of him.

  The door rattled again, and then opened, the woman I’d seen with Donovan earlier in the day laughing as she stepped into the house.

  “Oh, hey,” she said, holding up her hands, as she realized how much gun power was focused on her. “I thought you knew we were here.”

  Ash relaxed, sliding his gun into a holster strapped around his arms and pulled a cell phone out of his pocket.

  What the…?

  “Yep, here it is. Sorry, love.”

  He kissed the woman’s cheek, as a tall, husky man came through the door behind her. I recognized him immediately as the police chief here in Santa Monica…Jack Warren.

  The woman glanced at me, assessing me—did she think of me as competition?—then turned to Donovan. My heart twisted in my chest, as he grinned affectionately at her.

  “Twice in one day,” she said with a big smile. “My lucky day.”

  “Hey, Em,” he said, bending to kiss her cheek.

  She slapped his cheek lightly, almost maternally, then marched into the room and held her hand out to me.

  “I’m Detective Emily Warren. You must be Miss Thompson.”

  I hesitated, but Donovan offered a slight nod, telling me it was okay.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said politely, taking her hand, still so confused by what was going on here. Why was Donovan’s girlfriend here?

  She squeezed my hand warmly as she looked me up and down, clearly assessing me for a reason I wasn’t quite clear on. Then she nodded as she stepped back.

  “That’s my husband, by the way,” she said, gesturing to the chief. “Jack, come say hello.”

  Husband?

  He lumbered forward and joined his wife, sliding his hand almost provocatively down her back as he offered me his hand as well. So much affection. How stupid could I be to believe she and Donovan…there wasn’t anything going on between them, was there? A woman doesn’t look at her husband that way when she’s having an affair, especially when the object of that affair is standing, smiling, behind her.

  “Nice to meet you, Miss Thompson.”

  “Kate, please.”

  He just nodded, squeezing my hand lightly and then letting go.

  “Why don’t we take a seat,” Donovan announced, his gun once again gone to wherever it was he stowed it.

  I hesitated, but Donovan came to my side and pulled me down next to him.

  Detective Warren sat on the edge of the coffee table where Donovan had sat earlier and addressed me directly.

  “I don’t know if they’ve had a chance to tell you, but fresh tool marks have been identified on the window ledge outside your bedroom window.”

  I could feel the color draining from my face.

  “Have you messed with those windows recently? Or had a workman do anything in your side yard in the last month or so?”

  I shook my head.

  She glanced at her husband, and he stepped away, tugging a phone out of his pocket.

  “We have reason to believe that the alarm that alerted Gray Wolf to danger at your house was accurate. We have a team of investigators at your house right now, trying to figure out what they were after and if they succeeded in their intentions.”

  “What do you mean? Do you think…?”

  I looked at Donovan, and he simply, quietly, took my hand.

  “We don’t know what to think right now, Miss Thompson,” the detective said. “But be assured that we’re working as quickly as we can to f
igure out who might be after you.”

  I bit my lip, fear dancing through me, as I imagined someone standing outside my bedroom window, a window that was less than five feet from where I’d been laying. Who could want to get into my room? Could it have been a coincidence? But, who believes in coincidences like that?

  “Have you begun to remember what happened that night?” the detective asked.

  I shook my head. “No, nothing.”

  I could see the disappointment in her eyes, but she just smiled. She was obviously quite skilled in attending to victims. Must come in handy in her line of work, but it only made me feel manipulated.

  “Can I ask a question?”

  No one said anything. No one even seemed to be paying attention to me. They were all too busy with their own thoughts.

  “Why did this person leave? What frightened them off?” I studied the detective as her head came up and she regarded me with a little bit of surprise in her eyes. “The alarm that woke Donovan is silent, right?” I said, talking directly to her now. “What made this person leave? Was it us leaving the house? And, if that was it, did this person follow us?”

  “I followed protocol,” Donovan said immediately. “Used a roundabout way of getting here, watched for a tail. No one followed us.”

  “But she has a point,” Ash said. “If someone was there, and they didn’t finish what they were there to do, our team should have found them.”

  Detective Warren nodded, shooting a look to her husband who was just coming back into the room.

  The room was suddenly a web of activity. Ash and the chief of police were on the phone. Detective Warren was walking through the house, checking each room as she passed a door, closed or open. And Donovan was urging me off the couch.

  “We should go,” he said.

  Ash tossed him a set of keys. “Take mine.”

  We started for the door, but Ash grabbed Donovan’s arm before we could get out the door.

  “David thinks he has an image of the intruder. Have her look at it when you get there.”

  Donovan jerked his chin up, as he turned and pulled me out the front door. They were all so excited, I almost expected to be ambushed on the driveway. But we made it to the SUV—another dark, nondescript SUV—without incident.