Saving Grace (Watchdogs, Inc Book 1)

by Mia Dymond

  He released a hard sigh. Although he had made changes in his lifestyle, it was very possible this would become a lifelong irritant. Perhaps he should take another route and seek outside assistance. Would anyone believe him? One look into the reasoning behind his participation and doubt would cause his plea for help to be discounted. And if his request was ever discovered, he would cease to exist. No, help was not an option at this point.

  With no other choice, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the ominous numbers to relay the outcome.

  His contact answered immediately. “I’m assuming you have the object in your possession.”

  “No, it’s not here.” He grimaced. “I’ve searched everywhere possible and came up empty-handed.”

  A long pause filled the conversation and he intercepted the anger that crossed the line. “You are running out of time.”

  “I’ll find it,” he answered out of desperation. “I’ll find it and I’ll get it to you.”

  “You’ve made that promise before.”

  “I realize that, but I’ve done everything possible to be successful. I’m prepared to send a stronger message.”

  “I am confident it will not be by mail this time.”

  “No, certainly not.”

  “Send the next warning, but be advised my patience is wearing thin. I will not await success much longer.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The next day, the mid-morning sun warmed the back of his neck as Harvard stood on the welcome mat outside the McGuire household and took in the surroundings while Grace rang the doorbell. The house sat on what he judged to be at least three acres of land covered by plush, green grass and surrounded by a black iron gate. Since they’d entered the perimeter through a locked gate, he assumed security was sufficient. That thought allowed him to believe that if something valuable left the house, it had been removed by someone who had authorization. Especially since he couldn’t locate a criminal report of trespass or theft.

  A flight of six steps marked the route to the sprawling gray, colonial-style house that stood three stories tall with a wraparound porch. Two massive white columns, positioned at the top of the steps, one on each side, framed the front entrance.

  “Should we play good-cop, bad-cop?” Grace drawled as they waited for permission to enter.

  “I’m not a cop.” He smirked. “But, you would look sexy in my handcuffs.”

  A pretty pink blush crept across her cheeks and he prepared himself for some sort of snappy come-back. Instead, a woman opened the front door.

  “Grace! Nice to see you, dear.”

  “Good morning, Eileen, thank you for meeting us.” Grace gestured at him with a hand. “This is Paxton Gray.”

  He flinched at her use of his proper name while he quickly committed the other woman’s appearance to memory and extended his hand. “Call me Harvard. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. McGuire.”

  He guessed her age at sixty to sixty-five years old and she stood approximately five feet, five inches in stature. Her brown eyes matched her short, brunette hair which was currently styled and sprayed in a helmet-fashion. Dressed in tan slacks and a short-sleeved, blue blazer, she looked as if she had just come from a business meeting. Logic told him that her wealth allowed her to spend her spare time serving on several committees.

  “Eileen, please.” He could’ve sworn the woman batted her eyelashes. “Come on in. Have a seat in the sitting room and I’ll find Richard.”

  Mrs. McGuire turned to leave the entry and he raised an eyebrow at Grace while he walked beside her.

  “Richard?”

  “The butler. Eileen entertains frequently. I’m sure he already has the coffee brewed.”

  “Has he been employed long?”

  Grace grinned. “Harvard, the butler didn’t do it.”

  “Funny. How long?”

  “Years.” She sat on the nearby sofa and patted the cushion beside her. “You’ll have to ask Mrs. McGuire for specifics.”

  He took the seat next to Grace and glanced around the ornately-decorated room to attempt to get a feel for the place. Arranged to encourage intimate conversation, two wing backed chairs rested in front of the sofa, separated by a round coffee table.

  “Richard is on his way with coffee.” Mrs. McGuire sat in one of the chairs across from them. “Now, please tell me about the situation.”

  He nodded at Grace to explain.

  “Two days ago after I finished meeting with you, someone attempted to run me off the road.”

  “Oh!” the older woman gasped. “Who?”

  “I have no idea, but there’s more. I also received a letter in the mail that claims I have something valuable in my possession. If I don’t return it, my life is in danger.”

  “What kind of object would possibly be worth a life?”

  “I don’t know that either. The note specifies that it came from my employer and since I’m currently spending time on your project, I assume you are the employer. Harvard is looking into the situation for me.”

  He took Grace’s cue to begin his investigation. “Are you missing anything valuable, Mrs. McGuire?”

  She frowned. “I don’t believe so.”

  “Are you sure? Did you pack anything valuable from the items in the closet?”

  “The only items worth any real amount of money in the closet are my brooches.”

  “Are you missing one?”

  “I hadn’t noticed but let’s go take a look.”

  Harvard followed behind Grace while he hoped they would catch a break; it would help matters immensely if they could at least identify the missing object.

  His eyes widened when he stood inside the closet. Grace hadn’t exaggerated, the room was massive – and complete with furniture and appliances.

  Mrs. McGuire opened the top drawer of a built-in jewelry armoire, glanced inside, and then closed the drawer. “My purple peacock is missing but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not here somewhere.”

  “Why?”

  “I wore it to a charity event last week. It could be that I left it pinned to my blouse.”

  “Is the blouse here?”

  “No. I don’t wear it often.” Her eyes widened. “Oh! Maybe I did pack it for storage!”

  “Why would someone be so desperate for the peacock?”

  “It’s appraised at one million dollars.”

  “Is that public knowledge?”

  “Yes. I purchased it at auction and outbid numerous people.”

  “Do you have a picture of the brooch?”

  “Of course.” She opened the bottom drawer of the armoire, took out a photo, and handed it to him. “My collection is catalogued for the insurance company.”

  He glanced at the picture. At first look, it appeared to be any other piece of sparkling, purple jewelry, large and gaudy, in his opinion. But the diamond-covered tail feathers of the peacock made the piece flashy and pricey.

  “Has anyone attempted to purchase it from you?”

  “Heavens, yes. I receive offers almost daily.” She closed the drawer. “Let’s go back to the sitting room. I’m sure Richard has the coffee waiting on us.”

  He followed Grace and Mrs. McGuire back into the sitting room and took his previous seat. Just as the older woman had predicted, a silver tray with a white carafe and three matching mugs sat on the table. He waited until Mrs. McGuire distributed the coffee cups before he picked up the questioning where he left off.

  “Who would have information about Grace’s job here?”

  “Me, my husband, Richard, and my household staff. And my friends. I’ve been very vocal about promoting Grace’s services.”

  “Thank you, Eileen,” Grace said softly.

  “How large is your staff?”

  “I have three full time employees who report to Richard.”

  “How long have you employed Richard?”

  “Ten years. He runs my household impeccably.”

  “And you trust him?”


  “Most definitely.”

  He lifted his cup to his lips, took a healthy drink, and then resumed his questioning. “The other three employees, who are they and what do they do?”

  “Ellen Mason is our chef. I have a housekeeper, Louisa Alvarez, and my husband’s valet and chauffer is John Tate.”

  “Do you have any reason to believe any of them are unhappy with their employment?”

  “I haven’t heard any complaints. They’ve all been with us at least three years and seem content.”

  “And they all have access to your jewelry?”

  She nodded in the affirmative. “What’s the use of hiring people I can’t trust?”

  He bit his tongue from pointing out that in these circumstances, the trusted ones attracted suspicion first. Instead, he lifted his cup again and drained the contents.

  “Grace and I will search the storage locker where your things are stored.” He returned the mug to the table. “The author of the letter didn’t specifically mention what item is missing, he or she just assumed Grace knew. Would you mind thoroughly searching the house to be sure the peacock is actually missing?”

  “Certainly. I’ll have the staff do it immediately.”

  “Actually, I’d prefer not to alert anyone of the situation or my involvement. Grace will be much safer if we keep this between us. Is it possible for you to search personally?”

  “Absolutely. I won’t say a word.”

  “Thank you.” He stood and extended a hand to Grace. “We’ll let you know if we find it in the storage unit.”

  Grace accepted his offering and stood. “Thanks again for meeting us, Eileen. I’ll drop by tomorrow to review the final plans for the closet.”

  “You’re most welcome. I’ll see you then.”

  The drive to the storage locker was a silent one while facts attacked his brain. The threat made perfect sense if the million-dollar peacock brooch was the object in question and at this point, it seemed to be a viable explanation. Now they just had to find it. And return it. And catch whoever sent the note. He shook his head. They still had a long way to go to make sense of the case.

  He reached across the seat and tucked Grace’s hand in his. “Did you learn anything you didn’t know?”

  “I didn’t know anything about the peacock. When Eileen mentioned jewelry in my initial visit, we didn’t discuss specifics.”

  “Why?”

  “It was irrelevant to the job. The jewelry wasn’t going to leave the closet.”

  He stopped outside the security gate at Storage Solutions, lowered the window, and punched in the newly-issued code that Diesel had acquired. At least there was a better chance no one could get inside now.

  “It is positive that we do have a solid object to look for now,” he told her as he drove the distance to the locker.

  “True.” She squeezed his hand. “Maybe things will make more sense after we search.”

  He left the truck, walked around to the passenger’s side, and opened the door. He waited until Grace stepped out and unlocked the unit and then he lifted the door.

  “Bailey and I searched those boxes.” Grace pointed at a stack against the far wall of the unit. “No peacock.”

  “If it’s here, we’ll find it.” He grinned. “I’m assuming you have a method.”

  “Only to stack any box we search with those when we’re finished.”

  “Is there anything in these boxes I need to know about beforehand?”

  “I didn’t pack them, but I’m pretty sure Bailey found the mystery box.”

  “Handcuffs?”

  “Among other things,” she mumbled. “Dig in.”

  He opened a box and rifled through the contents. Shoes, shoes, and more shoes. No jewelry.

  “What is it about women and shoes?”

  Grace giggled. “Ask Bailey.”

  He set the box on top of the appropriate pile and then opened another. As soon as he focused his gaze on the contents, he closed the flaps and pushed it toward Grace.

  “This one’s yours.”

  “What?” She frowned. “Why?”

  “Underwear,” he mumbled.

  She opened the flaps and sifted through the silk. “Not underwear, lingerie. And no peacock.” She sighed. “I’m not sure we’re going to find it in here.”

  “No?”

  She tilted her head to one side. “Logic tells me that if she had been wearing the million-dollar pin, she wouldn’t have been so careless as to toss it into a box.”

  “She mentioned that she doesn’t wear that particular blouse often. Do you think she packed it without realizing the peacock was still attached?”

  “No. I can’t be one hundred percent sure, but I’m willing to bet she removed the brooch.”

  “So what I’m hearing is that you think we’re wasting our time.”

  She released a soft sigh. “Yes.”

  “You’d make a pretty good investigator.”

  “Why so?”

  He stepped near her and kept walking until he had her backed up against the metal wall. “Because you’re a helluva cat burglar.” He braced one hand on her hip and tucked her hair behind one ear with the other. “And you’re extremely sexy decked out in black.”

  He lowered his head and took her lips with his, massaging the plump flesh until he thought he’d go crazy without further contact. He pulled her closer against his midsection and his cock wasted no time in expressing sheer gratification.

  She released a soft whimper and in the next heated moment, he nearly passed out in satisfaction from pressure on his cock. Her small fingers gripped him through the denim of his jeans and although movement was limited, just the firm hold she had on him gave him insane pleasure. Desperate for more, he pressed his groin against her hand.

  He moved his hand from her hip to cup her right breast and stroked a thumb over the thin fabric of her top, immensely delighted to find her nipple hard and peaked beneath his touch. He swallowed the low moan that left her mouth as his lips tightened over hers and threatened to devour her, rather than kiss her.

  Lust pushed him to peel her clothes from her body and take her right then and there against the metal. Hunger for her body clouded his thinking. And just as he’d almost made the decision to proceed, sanity managed to intervene. No way would he enjoy her here. Damn cameras. With a tortured groan, he lifted his lips and then placed a peck on her forehead as he gently moved her hand from his groin, lifted it, and placed a soft kiss to her knuckles.

  “Still think this was a waste of time?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “I meant what I said about your investigative skills. How about coming with me on a stakeout in a couple days?”

  “A stakeout?”

  He nodded. “Domestic case. I’m scheduled to run surveillance.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  “Not always. In fact, it’s usually pretty boring. I just thought you could keep me company.”

  “Sure.”

  “There’s just one requirement.” He grinned. “Wear black.”

  ***

  Deep in relaxation mode, Ice kept his mind clear as his muscles worked in tandem to propel him through the water from one end to the other. Olympic-sized and twelve feet deep, the Watchdogs, Inc. pool provided him an opportunity to rid his body and mind of stress and frustration. He’d spent most of his life in the water; to him, there was nowhere else to seek sanctuary.

  As he continued to keep pace, he reached for the edge of the pool then quickly flipped himself over to swim back to the other end. Long but swift strokes pulled his body through the water while occasional deep breaths kept him from drowning. Without his tank, he almost felt naked.

  Two more breaths and he reached for the ledge once again. Except this time, something hit the water before he could grasp the cement. Immediately, he raised his head, lowered his feet to tread water and opened his eyes. A white, solid safety ring attached to a bright blue rope floated in front of him.

  He mov
ed his gaze along the length of the rope until he looked into another set of eyes, equally as bright blue.

  “Bailey?” he chided. “Did you just throw that ring at me?”

  “I did.”

  Content to look at her all night, he waited for further explanation. Her short, black skirt touched the middle of her tanned thighs, rendering him extremely jealous, and a simple, short-sleeved, red blouse hugged her midsection, making him irritated that she was covered. Lower, a set of black, do-me high heels at least two inches in height wrapped her feet with a slender ankle strap buckled around her ankles. Damn, he was a sucker for those straps. By the way she was dressed, he assumed she came right from work.

  At least two feet from the pool’s edge, she stood with her arms folded beneath a set of incredibly attractive breasts. Hell, the whole package was attractive. She was tiny – maybe an inch or two over five feet tall – with long, blonde hair with loose curls that fell to her ribcage. And those killer blue eyes, currently narrowed on him with flames licking her irises, hypnotized him. She was either extremely aroused or pissed off. He was a positive guy; he opted for arousal.

  He reached for the ring. “Any particular reason why?”

  “I tried to get your attention by calling your name but you ignored me.” She shrugged and those curls brushed the sides of her breasts. “The ring was handy.”

  “I didn’t hear you.” He gave the rope a quick tug and she gasped as she stumbled forward them immediately dropped it. “It wouldn’t take much for me to pull you in. Then you would have my full attention.”

  She took several steps backwards as her eyes widened and her skin paled. “No need for that. I can tell you what I need to from here.”

  He frowned. Not quite the response he’d expected. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, but I’m not so sure about Grace.”

  He swam to the side of the pool and lifted himself to sit on the cement. “Believe me, she’s fine. Grace is with Harvard.”

  “Yes, I know she’s physically safe now but I don’t know about later.”

  “Why? Harvard is a great guy.”