Susan Mallery Bundle: The Buchanans

by Susan Mallery

  When Elissa finally felt able to get a little control, she straightened. “So, Mom, how are you?”

  The two women laughed.

  “The way I see it,” her mother said a few minutes later over coffee and cookies, “you need to prioritize. Neil has to be dealt with first. Walker’s right. You do need a good lawyer. One who’ll kick Neil’s ass.”

  Elissa raised her eyebrows. “I don’t remember you ever saying ‘ass’ before.”

  “I kept that sort of thing from my children,” her mother said primly. “But you’re an adult now. I also say ‘damn,’ but that’s about all. Your father uses the really dirty words.”

  Information she did not need, Elissa thought wryly.

  “Anyway,” her mother said. “Back to the lawyer. We can help with the money.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to and your father will, as well. Besides, the money’s actually yours. Your college fund,” she said, then shrugged. “It’s just been sitting there compounding. We always wanted you to come home and learn you had a nest egg waiting. I was thinking you’d use it for a down payment on a house, but this is more important. Let’s skin the weasel.”

  Despite everything, Elissa laughed. “Go, Mom!”

  “I can be tough,” her mother said.

  “I know you can.” She hesitated. “I’m sorry I got weird before…about you seeing Zoe. I was upset and confused. I want you to be a part of her life. I want her to know how amazing you and Dad are.”

  “I know, honey. You shouldn’t worry about that. We have a lot to deal with and a lot of catching up to do. That’s going to take time and cause a little stress, but we’ll get through it. I’ve been thinking about that lately—all you did. How you made it on your own with a baby. You had no job skills, no education, nothing but determination. I’m not sure I would have been so successful.”

  “You would have,” Elissa said softly. “You would have done it for me or Bobby.”

  “The power of loving a child.” Her mother pushed the plate of cookies toward her. “All right. We’ve reconciled, we have a plan for Neil, so what about Walker?”

  Elissa bit into a cookie and chewed. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to get through to him.”

  “Tell him the truth,” her mother advised. “Tell him you love him.”

  “What? I can’t say that.”

  “Why not? What’s the worst that will happen?”

  What would be the worst? “I’ll never see him again. He’ll run and I’ll be alone.”

  “You’ve been alone before. So that’s survivable. And if he runs, then he’s not the man for you. Loving someone is a gift and if the guy in question is too stupid to realize that, then you’re better off without him. Wouldn’t you want to know that sooner rather than later?”

  Elissa thought about the wonderful times she and Walker had shared. The way he was so patient with Zoe, how great he was in bed. “I prefer later.”

  Her mother raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure about that?”

  Elissa sighed. “Okay, not the mature answer, I know. You’re right. Find out now and then I can get started on getting over him. How’s that?”

  “Better,” her mother said. “Besides, don’t you want him to know? Even if it doesn’t work out, wouldn’t it be better to tell him so you don’t spend the rest of your life wondering ‘what if?’”

  “You’re using logic in a matter of the heart. I’m not sure that’s even legal.”

  “Trust him to do the right thing,” her mother said. “If you can’t do that, then trust yourself to survive whatever happens.”

  WALKER SCROLLED through the August numbers. Business was up, which was what he liked to see. Apparently the employees liked having more responsibility and they were proving it in a tangible way. If this kept up another month, Buchanan Enterprises was due for its best year yet.

  A fact that would fry his grandmother, he thought cheerfully. Maybe knowing he was doing a damn good job would encourage her to get better more quickly.

  His phone buzzed. “A Mr. Dalton on line one for you,” Vicki said. “He won’t tell me what it’s about.”

  Walker frowned as he picked up the receiver. “Buchanan,” he said.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Buchanan,” the man on the other end said. “I’m Jonathan Dalton. My firm specializes in placing highly qualified candidates in growth opportunities. If you have a few minutes, I’d like to tell you about just such an opportunity because you’re exactly the kind of candidate we’re looking for.”

  It took him a second to realize the guy was a headhunter. “What’s the business?” he asked and braced himself for a detailed explanation of gunrunning, security or straight-out black ops.

  “A small chain of restaurants in Idaho. They’re not The Waterfront or Buchanan’s,” Dalton said heartily. “But that’s our client’s goal. To grow the business. To reach a higher level of quality and service, not to mention appeal. The salary is generous and there is ownership potential. Let me tell you a little bit about the company.”

  Dalton continued to talk, but Walker wasn’t listening. Restaurants? The guy was calling him about restaurants? Not war or danger or death?

  “Are you familiar with my background?” Walker asked. “You know I was in the Marines for nearly fifteen years.”

  “Of course. Our client believes that kind of experience builds leadership. Now you have hands-on in the restaurant business, which makes you the perfect candidate.”

  Walker doubted that a few weeks of running the family company qualified as “hands-on experience” but it was good to hear someone else did. Until that moment, he’d never seriously considered he might have a career outside of something military.

  “I appreciate you thinking of me,” he said, “but I’m not interested. I’m going to be tied up here for several more months.” Then he didn’t know what he was going to do, but there seemed to be dozens of possibilities.

  Mr. Dalton sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that. All right. I understand. But I’d like to send you some information on our firm. You’re exactly the kind of person we like to offer our clients. Perhaps you could send me a résumé when you have time.”

  “Sure thing,” Walker said, thinking now he’d have to write one.

  He finished with the call, then walked to the window and stared out at Gloria’s view.

  A few weeks ago, he’d felt as if he didn’t have any choices. Running the company had been a job he’d taken on by default, yet he’d quickly found himself enjoying his work. Was he a tycoon in the making?

  The thought made him smile. Maybe not a tycoon, but there were other things he could do. Other jobs, other careers. He still had his ghosts, but they came less frequently. The dreams were still there and would be until he found that one person who cared.

  After fifteen years in the Corps, he should know how to move on. He had known, until Ben. Until that kid had gotten under his skin. He, Walker, had vowed to keep Ben alive and he’d failed.

  He wouldn’t fail again.

  “I WASON THE ROAD A LOT,” Reid said, annoyed with himself for even bothering to explain to someone who wasn’t interested.

  Lori Johnston stood in the center of Gloria’s large library and stared at him blankly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Of course she didn’t, he thought irritably. She’d passed judgment on him and then had dismissed him. Just as he should have dismissed her. But he hadn’t. No matter where he went or what he did or who he was with, he kept remembering her comment about him ignoring his grandmother and that being the reason she was so difficult.

  “She doesn’t like people,” he said.

  “Who?” Lori asked in the kind of tone usually reserved for dealing with the mentally disabled.

  “My grandmother. She’s not a people person.”

  “I haven’t met her yet,” Lori said, obviously not the least bit interested in the conversation. “I’m
sure she’s perfectly lovely.”

  “She’s not. She difficult and demanding. She has her grandchildren followed. Walker’s seen the reports. She actually hires private investigators to find out about our lives.”

  Lori’s steady, cool gaze drilled into him. “Perhaps if her grandchildren were more interested in her well-being than in their own, she wouldn’t be forced to resort to such drastic measures.”

  “Forced? No one’s forcing her. She’s doing this all on her own and do you know why?”

  “Because she’s lonely and you’re the only family she has in the world and you’re too busy for her?”

  He wanted to hit something or strangle something. His gaze zeroed in on her neck. “You haven’t even met the woman. Why are you taking her side?”

  “In my experience, the elderly are often abandoned or at the very least, shuffled aside. You yourself said you were on the road all the time. What does that say about your relationship with your grandmother?”

  His fingers twitched. “I played baseball. Of course I was gone. That’s what the job involves. Traveling from city to city.”

  “For a season,” Lori said. “How long is that? Five or six months? What about the rest of the year?” She walked to the tall windows and pulled open the drapes. Sunlight spilled onto the hardwood floor. “You’re trying to convince me of something, Mr. Buchanan, but I can’t figure out what. My advice is that you stop trying. Seriously. You and I don’t need much more than a very casual relationship for me to do my job.” She smiled. “It’s not as if we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

  He got that—the little jab as she implied he wouldn’t be visiting. The whole damn thing was annoying, he thought. He wanted to tell her that he’d been the only one of the grandchildren willing to take on the task of lining up home-care nurses for Gloria. That he’d been to the hospital three times and that he had visited the old bat in the off-season.

  But before he could explain, Lori was talking again.

  “I think this room is perfect,” she said. “Have the desk removed and those two chairs. Leave the recliner. She’ll like that. The area rug is fine, as well. The hospital bed and table will be delivered tomorrow. I confirmed with them before I came over. Someone will be here to let them in?”

  She raised her tone as if she were asking a question, but Reid knew she was giving an order. As in someone would be waiting for the delivery people.

  “I’ve made arrangements.”

  “Good.” She picked up her purse. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Buchanan. I’ve spoken with the doctor. Your grandmother should be ready to come home in about a week. I’ll check in on her a few times before then so we can get acquainted.”

  “It’s Reid,” he said. “Call me Reid.”

  “All right. Anything else?”

  He shook his head. She left and he was alone in Gloria’s large, empty house. Much as his grandmother had been.

  “BUT I DON’T HAVE any homework,” Zoe said. “Why can’t we have homework like the big kids?”

  Elissa laughed. “I want you to write that down, Zoe. Write down that you want homework and then give the paper to me.”

  “Why?”

  “So that a few years from now when you’re older and complaining about how much homework you have, I can pull it out and remind you this is exactly what you wanted.”

  Zoe thought for a moment. “Okay.”

  She ran off to get paper. Elissa grinned. What a fabulous kid. She’d sure gotten lucky with her.

  Someone knocked on the front door. Elissa looked up and her heart quickened. Walker? She hadn’t seen him since Penny had her baby and she missed him. There was also the possibility of her confessing her feelings, which kept things interesting.

  She crossed the living room and pulled open the door.

  But it wasn’t Walker. Instead, Neil stood there. Or swayed there. He was unsteady on his feet and there was something about his eyes that chilled her.

  “Neil, what are you doing here?” she asked as she glanced back over her shoulder and prayed Zoe would take her time getting the paper.

  “You know why I’m here,” he told her. “I’m here for my money.”

  “I gave you money,” she whispered, suddenly afraid. She tried to push the door closed, but he’d already stepped inside.

  “Not enough,” he told her. “I know you made more that weekend. I want it. I want it all. If you don’t give it to me, I’m going to take the kid.”

  “Never,” she said, standing her ground.

  “You always say no,” he told her. “Then you give me the money anyway. It’s a little game we play. You like playing games with me.”

  “You’re so wrong,” she said, disgusted and afraid at the same time. “Neil, you need to go to your place and come down from whatever you’re on.”

  “I’m flying, baby, and flying is the best.”

  “Get out before I call the police.”

  He laughed. “I’ve done nothing wrong. That’s how good this is. You pay me to stay away. Nothing wrong with that.”

  “You threatened me,” she said, remembering her baseball bat and inching toward the kitchen. If she could get the bat, she might be able to force him to leave. “I’m done paying you. You’re not going to threaten me anymore.”

  She turned and lunged for the broom cupboard but before she could get there, Neil grabbed her by the arm and spun her toward him. Then he punched her hard in the face.

  Pain exploded. She staggered, then collapsed against the couch and tasted blood.

  “Mommy, Mommy!” Zoe flew to her side. “Go away! Don’t you hurt my mommy. Stop it. You’re a bad man and I’m telling Walker.”

  Neil grinned, but there was no humor or joy behind the movement. He looked dark and evil and the fear inside of her exploded until it consumed her.

  “Now look at you,” he said to Zoe. “Aren’t you a pretty little girl. Do you know who I am? Do you want to come play a game with me?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  WALKER CONCLUDED the meeting and returned to his office. He’d thought about discussing his new ideas for employee profit sharing, but then had decided to wait until everything was in place. He would make a general announcement at that time, then implement the plan as each employee came to his or her anniversary date. Restaurants worked better without a lot of staff turnaround.

  He also wanted to do something special for the corporate staff. Although he’d managed to convince them there wouldn’t be executions at dawn, they still jumped every time he walked into a room. Gloria had sure as hell played out her quest for glory with a lot of innocent people. He was starting to think it would be better if she never came back.

  He crossed to his desk and tossed down the folder, then considered what that meant. If Gloria didn’t come back, was he willing to take over the company? Was this how he wanted to spend the rest of his life? Working for the family business?

  He didn’t have any answers and he wasn’t sure this was the—

  The skin on the back of his neck prickled. While he hadn’t felt that since returning stateside, he was familiar with the sensation. It meant trouble. Bad trouble. More than once that uncomfortable feeling had saved his ass.

  He turned slowly in the office, half expecting to find a sniper hiding under a table or lurking behind a desk. But there was no one. No guns, no grenades, no mines, no danger. Did that make the feeling more or less real?

  He walked to the window and stared out at the city. The prickling increased and with it came a fear. Not for himself but for…

  “Elissa,” he breathed.

  He grabbed the phone and dialed her number. A quick glance at his watch told him she should be home from work now. He hadn’t seen her in a couple of days. Not since Penny had her baby, when Elissa had had to leave to go take care of Zoe.

  He let the phone ring until the machine picked up and tried to tell himself she was fine. Only he didn’t believe it and suddenly he had to know for himself.

&
nbsp; The drive was the longest forty minutes of his life. He wove in and out of traffic as he crossed the bridge. Going south on the 405, he blew past seventy and watched his speedometer hit eighty before he took his exit. He ignored two red lights and a stop sign, then parked directly behind an unfamiliar, beat-up red van.

  He ran toward Elissa’s door and found it standing open.

  “Elissa?” he yelled as he let himself inside.

  There was a sound from the kitchen. A moan that made his blood freeze in his veins.

  He burst into the room to find Elissa in a heap by the wall. His battle-trained gaze took in the scene in less than a second. The baseball bat by the back door. The blood on her face and the way she cradled her obviously broken arm against her body. Zoe crouched by her mother, a dark bruise already forming around Elissa’s right eye.

  Walker felt more than saw the movement to his left. He sidestepped the first punch easily and used the second to grab his attacker’s arm. Rage filled him, but it was a calm, honed rage used against a thousand enemies. It gave him strength and direction.

  He twisted the man’s arm behind his back, hit him in the stomach, then tripped him as he started to go down. The man turned and Walker saw the dilated pupils, smelled the stink of something gone bad.

  “Neil, I presume,” he said, easily wrestling him to the ground and fighting the urge to snap his useless neck like a twig. “You should know better than to mess where you don’t belong.”

  Elissa roused herself. “He’s got a knife.”

  Walker quickly bent his wrist until he released it. “Not anymore.”

  The drugged-out loser lay on the ground, mewling like a kitten. Walker thought about killing him. It would be so easy. A quick twist of his head and Elissa would never have any trouble with him again.

  The need grew until one of his hands reached for Neil’s throat and tightened slightly.

  “I told you Walker would save us,” Zoe whispered as she huddled next to her mother.

  The quiet words spoken with such confidence were enough to release his rage. He’d arrived in time—that was going to be enough.