The Cat's Meow (SEALS, Inc. Book 5)

by Mia Dymond

  The Cat’s Meow

  SEALs, Inc., Book 5

  By

  Mia Dymond

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2014 Mia Dymond

  Published on Smashwords

  Cover photo: Andrei Vishnyakov|Dreamstime.com

  Cover by Dara England

  * * *

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Smashwords Edition License Notes

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  CHAPTER ONE

  No freakin’ way.

  Squatted in front of an open hole in the floor, Tess Michaels squeezed closed both her eyes, took a deep breath, and then re-opened them.

  Absolutely no freakin’ way.

  Her eyes cramped from concentration as she stared at the open, empty safe. The same one into which she’d deposited $20,142.50 approximately twelve hours ago. And there was no disputing the amount of money. She knew one hundred percent without a doubt, she placed 151 one hundred dollar bills, 36 fifty dollar bills, 155 twenty dollar bills, 20 ten dollar bills, 8 five dollar bills, 10 one dollar bills, one quarter, two dimes, and one nickel into the hole.

  She stood and grasped the bar with both hands. Surely this was some sort of bad dream, nightmare in fact. Yeah, a nightmare that would take her to the brink of horror and then fade into nothing as she awoke.

  Only, as she glanced back down into the black hole with the lid wide open and still devoid of green bills, she knew this was no nightmare.

  She took another deep breath and forced her lungs to inflate while her brain worked overtime to rationalize. Maybe Jack had come in early, made the bank deposit, and simply forgot to leave her a note. She released a hard breath and willed her body to relax. In the whole five years she’d worked as the bookkeeper for The Cathouse, Diablo, Arizona’s most exclusive gentlemen’s club, she’d never known Jack Campbell to be forgetful. The man had the memory of an elephant.

  Still, the possibility was reasonable and the phone call she planned to make in the next several seconds would either prove it or disprove it.

  Tess turned and nearly sprinted from the bar and into her office, almost slamming her finger in the door in the process. Without much thought, she palmed her cell phone and forced shaking fingers to punch numbers she knew by heart.

  Her heartbeat pounded in the milliseconds of silence until Jack’s deep voice crossed the line. “Tess?”

  “Hi, Jack.”

  “Everything okay?”

  She paused briefly, tempted to spout a little white lie. Perhaps if she had a few more minutes to investigate, the situation would resolve itself. Yet, she knew better. Her numbers never lied.

  “No. I checked the safe a few minutes ago. It’s empty. Please tell me you made the bank deposit this morning.”

  The long, pregnant pause told her Jack had not done the deed. Her stomach churned.

  “Are you alone?” he asked instead.

  “Yes. I’ve been here about thirty minutes.”

  “Was the door locked?”

  “Yes. The alarm was set too. I used both my key and my code to get inside.”

  “And the safe was empty?”

  She intercepted the disbelief in his voice, most likely because she couldn’t believe it either. “Every single bill is gone.”

  “What about the security disc?”

  She smacked her forehead with her free hand. “I didn’t even think to check it.” She stood and rounded her desk, closing the distance back to the bar in record time. “Hang on, I’m checking it now.”

  She reached below the counter and pushed a button to eject a disc from the machine. Or rather, eject a disc had there been one in place.

  Nausea bubbled her stomach. “Jack, the disc isn’t in the recorder.”

  “Yes, it is. I replaced it myself last night at closing time.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s missing, same as the cash.”

  “Do I want to know the damage?”

  “No.” She bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming. “Believe me, you don’t.”

  “Hang tight. I’ll make a phone call and then be right there.”

  ***

  Matt Brooks, a/k/a Ranger to his new teammates, pressed the doorbell on the massive oak door and listened to the chimes while he glanced around the area and waited for someone to answer. Hard to believe he’d ended up at the front door of Jaydon Hawke’s estate; even harder to believe the international rock star was actually a Navy SEAL and computer genius.

  When the door opened, he was even more surprised to see the star himself standing there, one hand gripped in the hold of his one-year-old daughter.

  He squatted to her level. “Hey, Harmony. How are you?”

  Babyspeak tickled his ears.

  Hawke laughed. “That means fine, I think. Then again, I’m convinced it means a lot of things since that’s all she ever says. Come on in, everyone’s out back.”

  “Where’s your butler?”

  “Don’t have one.” Hawke grinned at the gentle teasing. “You know Rachel would kick my ass if I ever acted like a rock star.”

  Ranger grinned as he glanced around the seemingly normal interior of the home. Photographs of Harmony decorated the walls. Toys lay scattered in the floor. In fact, he knew from experience that the only evidence that a celebrity lived there was the private recording studio off the back of the house. “Yeah, she would.”

  Hawke reached to scoop Harmony in his arms and then led the way through the house and into the backyard. Hawke’s wife, Rachel, met them at the edge of the patio and took the baby.

  “Hi, Ranger. Make yourself comfortable. It’s the regular madhouse around here.” She turned to her husband. “The grill’s ready.”

  Hawke kissed his daughter’s forehead and then glanced at him. “I’m off to cook the meat. Grab a beer and stay low.”

  Ranger bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud at the chaos. All of the hardened, military men of SEALs, Inc. had become husbands, fathers, or almost-fathers; something he yearned for, yet couldn’t seem to get close to. Being the newest member, however, he was getting quite an education, both in marriage and fatherhood.

  “Cpt. Sterling, your prisoner escaped.” Max Sterling’s wife, Cameron, a petite, blond-haired, blue-eyed bombshell, stood in her trademark high heels - designer he knew without asking - with one hand on her hip and a baby on the other. “I found her under the picnic table, chewing on the tablecloth.”

  Sterling folded his arms across his broad chest, as if prepared to argue. “No, that’s yours.”

  “Nope. Claire ha
s mine.”

  Ranger moved his gaze to see a very pregnant Claire Windsor holding an identical baby to Cameron’s on what was left of her lap. Damn, the captain was busted.

  “I can’t tell them apart,” Sterling mumbled as he took the baby from his wife. “Hell, they can’t even walk yet and I’m losing them.”

  “Don’t worry, Big Guy.” Cameron kissed her husband’s cheek. “I’m here to keep all of you in line.”

  That made Ranger laugh out loud, earning a severe scowl from Cpt. Sterling.

  “Think that’s funny, do you?” Brett Steele approached and handed him a cold beer. “She means it and believe me bro, it will happen.”

  “Thanks. And, I agree. I’ve learned a lot about Cameron in the last six months.”

  “Where’s Katie?”

  He flinched at the mention of his girlfriend, or ex-girlfriend, rather. “We decided I needed to think about making a commitment. In the meantime, she moved back to California.”

  “Sorry, man.”

  “Don’t be.” He tossed back a swallow of beer. “Neither of us are disappointed.”

  “So, what now?”

  He frowned. “What do you mean, what now? ”

  “You have another woman in mind?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “And don’t mention anything to Holly. She’ll give me one of those long, analytical stares and then match me up with someone she reads.”

  Steele snickered. “Holly’s psychic ability makes our marriage interesting, that’s for sure.”

  “How does that work, anyway? I mean, you don’t have a chance, man.”

  “I do, actually. You forget, Claire’s my sister.”

  He tilted his head to one side. Since he’d worked with Claire while he was a detective at the Navajo Police Department, he’d experienced her ability firsthand. How Steele danced around it, he’d never know.

  “Claire taught you some tricks of the trade?”

  “No.” Steele laughed. “I learned to mask my emotions to keep Claire out of my head. It works with Holly too.”

  He moved his gaze to their fifth teammate who stood next to Hawke at the grill. “What about Shadow?”

  “Turns out Shadow learned before I did. His mother was psychic. He and Claire play a continuous game of tug-of-war.”

  He stuck his free hand in his pocket, hesitant to change the conversation. “I hate to mix business and beer, but I got an interesting phone call just before I left the house.”

  Steele raised an eyebrow. “You want to bring us up to speed?”

  He nodded. “Since Hawke’s on grill duty, let’s meet over there.”

  As he headed across the patio to the grill, he stopped at the lawn chair that Claire occupied. “Hey, Claire.”

  “Hey, Ranger.” She attempted to push herself up in the chair.

  “Need some help?”

  “Nah, thanks anyway. I’ll be slumped again in a minute anyway.”

  “Sure?”

  She nodded and smiled. “I’m sorry to hear about Katie.”

  He grinned. He knew darn well she hadn’t overheard the conversation between him and Steele. Obviously, her psychic tentacles were wrapped around him.

  “Thanks, but it was mutual.”

  “I know.” She crossed her legs. “Want some advice?”

  Although he didn’t, he knew better than to voice his denial. She’d tell him anyway.

  “Sure.”

  “Don’t be afraid of commitment. And, be nice.”

  “I’m always nice.”

  “No, sometimes you’re bossy.”

  He tossed her a smirk. “I thought that was a pre-requisite for the team.”

  “Right.” She snorted. “Just be nice.”

  “Okay. I’m on my way to the grill. You need anything?”

  “No, I’m fine. Shadow hasn’t let me out of his sight for approximately seven months now. Believe me, I have everything I need.”

  “Got it.”

  He finally stood next to Hawke with the rest of the team.

  “Fill us in, Ranger.” Sterling folded his arms across his chest and widened his stance, a sure sign he was in soldier mode.

  “I got a phone call from Jack Campbell. There’s money missing from his safe.”

  “Robbery?”

  “That’s the thing. When the bookkeeper opened the safe this afternoon, it was empty. The door was locked and the alarm, set when she arrived for work. Nothing was out of place except the security disc was missing from the recorder.”

  “Inside job.”

  “Possibly.”

  “Do you suppose she had something to do with it?”

  “I guess that’s plausible. Yet, she did report it.”

  “Criminals report their crimes all the time.”

  “He contacted me under the assumption I still had a detective’s badge. When I told him I’d left the force, he still sought my involvement. Long story short, he wants us to investigate.”

  “Why us instead of the police?”

  “He’s not convinced it’s as cut and dry as it seems. We have a few more resources.”

  Shadow chuckled. “Resources, yeah.”

  “We can meet him tomorrow.” Sterling turned to look toward the picnic table and groaned, which caused all of them to look the same direction.

  A baby sat in the middle of the table with her fingers poked into a bowl of relish, giggling while she played.

  Sterling shook his head and then headed toward the table. “I’ve got my hands full today.”

  ***

  Soft, melodious opera music filled the atmosphere of his inner sanctum as he sat in his favorite leather chair and puffed on his last Cuban of the evening. Business was good. Very good. His organization was tight; his family loyal.

  His regulars had settled into a routine, one that served him well. His foot soldiers patrolled the streets, enforcing the rules that had been passed through the organization for years. Rules that were written in blood and that were never intended to change. No one sought to change the rules; no one except the newbies.

  It was always the newbies that wanted to change the plan. They always had a better way to run the business, one that would always benefit themselves, rather than the organization. He took a long drag from the end of his cigar and exhaled. He had policies in place for such non-conformers. He had not been in business this long to tolerate that sort of activity. And that is why he wasn’t surprised when the phone rang beside him.

  He lifted the receiver to his ear, signaling the caller that the call had connected.

  “I have a deposit.”

  “A deposit?” He thumped the end of his cigar so that the ash fell into a nearby ashtray. “That wasn’t the agreement.”

  “I realize we didn’t initially discuss an installment plan, but if you will agree, I can bring you a nice amount of interest, as well.”

  “How much interest?”

  “Double the total amount.”

  He released a long sigh. If he had a dollar for every time he was expected to negotiate, he’d be an even richer man. “Bring me what you have. If I am satisfied, it will buy you some time.”

  “How much time?”

  “Does it matter? You will make the delivery, regardless.”

  “I would like at least thirty six hours.”

  “Negative.” He pounded his free fist against the arm of his chair. “If I do not have the sum twenty four hours from now, I will send my army to find you.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  At a center table at The Cathouse, Ranger sat with the SEALs, Inc. team, amazed at the silence. He hadn’t ever visited when catcalls and whistles didn’t fill the air or music wasn’t blasting from every speaker in the place. From his own observation, Jack hired real talent for the stage; bouncers employed at the bar earned every bit of their money enforcing the no touching policy. Deep growls and tersely-issued threats added to the chaos.

  Jack Campbell was a hands-on business owner and usually stood behind th
e bar, pouring beer or mixing drinks for his clientele, or walked the floor to assure business proceeded as usual. Today however, he sat with them at the table, perplexed over the recent turn of events.

  As usual, Sterling took charge. “How much money are you missing?”

  “Twenty thousand, give or take a few bucks.”

  Shadow whistled low under his breath. “That’s a chunk of change.”

  “It’s a fairly average take for a night.” Jack shrugged. “I just can’t imagine how someone got to it.”

  “Let’s start from the beginning,” Hawke suggested.

  “We open every day at 2:00 p.m. All employees are scheduled to come in at the same time so we can prepare for the night. Cleaning the tables, bar, floor, etc. Tess usually clocks in about 1:30 p.m. or so to prepare the bank deposit and deliver it to the bank.”

  Ranger frowned. “Tess?”

  “Tess Michaels, my bookkeeper.”

  “Tess Michaels?” Hawke raised both eyebrows. “Really?”

  Jack nodded. “Really.”

  “Why are you surprised, Hawke?” Steele leaned back in his chair and folded both arms behind his head.

  Hawke grinned. “The Cathouse is the last place I’d expect to find Tess Michaels – she’s an heiress. Her family owns the MerriStar Resort chain.”

  “Do you know her personally?”

  “No, but Rachel drew the plans for their newest project.”

  “Nice places,” Shadow agreed. “I’ve met her parents – good people.”

  Ranger smirked, taking prime opportunity to jab Shadow about his own wealth. “How does MerriStar compare the The Windsor?”

  “MerriStar is a resort; The Windsor is a hotel.” Shadow shook his head. “We both have five stars, by the way.”

  Sterling jumped back in to redirect the conversation, firing off questions like a well-oiled machine gun. “How is the safe opened, Campbell?”