There was no way that Joe could take her to a relative. That would be the first place Walker would look. And Freya couldn't necessarily stay with Joe because of his high-profile job running Morgan Books. He hated the idea of her being away from him, but if that bastard Walker could find her at the condo, then anything was game. Joe just had to figure out where she could go and be safe.
Certainly, he couldn't just hand her a handful of cash and tell her to hide out in some hotel somewhere, out of contact from him. She was in a very fragile state and still needed someone to keep an eye out on her. But who could he trust?
Joe's cellphone rang, and he almost didn't pick it up until he saw the caller ID. He paused for a moment, staring at the name on the display. Then, an idea hit him. He fumbled for the talk button and held the phone up to his head.”
“Brian,” Joe said. “I'm going to hang up right now, and I'm going to call you right back.”
Joe only heard a, “Uh, what?” Before he hung up. He woke Freya up just to tell her that he'd be right back and in the hotel lobby if she had any issues. She nodded sleepily and curled back up on the couch. Joe was out of that room like a man possessed.
Maybe he could keep his daughter safe after all.
3:01 PM
Brian Ash stared at his cellphone and shook his head. Joe Morgan was a busy man, but it had been a while since the guy had hung up on Brian. He shrugged and shook his head. Joe had seemed pretty...preoccupied for the last couple of months. Brian wasn't sure why, and with his hectic schedule, he hadn't had the chance to sit down and talk with the man. Joe was Brian's publisher and his friend.
After spending seven years enlisted in the Army (four years in the Rangers going on special ops missions), serving both in Iraq and Afghanistan, Brian had left the service not knowing what direction to go. He had been a fighter for so long and adjusting back to civilian life was hard. He had had some issues that he had needed to work out.
Actually, he had been pretty messed up. He might not be alive right now if he had continued going down that path. Luckily, he had gotten himself to a VA hospital, where he had started seeing one of their psychologists. One of the strategies the doc had given him was writing.
At first, it had been writing in a journal. But after a while, Brian had started writing stories to process some of the shit that had been going through his head. Eventually, the stories pieced together into his first novel, Five Nights in Fallujah.
It had been nothing but chance that Brian had run into Joe Morgan and had convinced him to publish the book. Brian had never expected to write a best-seller, but that was what it turned into. He had become an overnight success, prompting him to write two more sequels, using the same main character, Jack Cross.
Again, the sequels were hits, and long story short, a movie production company had bought the rights to all three of his novels. The movie version of Five Nights in Fallujah had just come out last Christmas in theaters. Brian had spent a lot of time promoting it as well as his other books.
Brian had made so much money off the deal, and he had gained a lot of fame. Apparently, he had captured the hearts and libidos of many women around America because people—especially women between the ages of eighteen to forty—considered him to be sexy.
Hell, he didn't consider himself to be bad looking. Brian was still pretty young, only thirty-three, and he was tall—almost six foot four—and a pretty buff guy (he was determined to stay in at least half-ways decent shape since his grueling training in the Rangers). He had short black hair and gray eyes with a strong jawline. He had some Italian heritage to him mixed in with some other European nationalities, so he had this perpetually tanned look to him. One magazine had even called him, “dark and devilishly handsome.”
But it had run him through a loop when he had ended up dating a very famous movie star. Apparently, when fame and money are involved, all sorts of women come out of the woodwork who would have never given a damn otherwise. Yeah, that particular starlet had been extremely hot, but there hadn't been that much going on upstairs. He had called it off before anything got too hot and heavy. And before he ended up in any more tabloids. Brian enjoyed being successful, but he could do without the lack of privacy.
And this was exactly the reason why he had left early for his mountain home in the high country of North Carolina. It would give him both time to decompress from the hectic schedule of movie-promoting and book-promoting. He needed out of the limelight for a while. Plus, he had decided to dedicate the summer to completing his fourth book, which had been on the backburner for a while.
So, he had driven from his winter home in Tampa to the mountain one right outside of Boone (he honestly was still having trouble coming to terms with the fact that he had winter and summer homes). He had tried to call Joe to tell him that he would be at the mountain home from now until probably September, but that hadn't gone down exactly as he had planned. Since Brian was unpacked and had already stocked his refrigerator and freezer, the only thing he could do was sit and wait for Joe to decide to call him back.
A few minutes later, his cellphone rang. It didn't come up as Joe's phone number on the display, but Bryan figured it probably was him, so he answered.
“Joe, what was the deal on hanging up on me, man?” Brian asked, trying to show a little irritation in his voice.
“Hey, Brian. I'm sorry about that,” Joe's voice came in from the other end of the line.
“Yeah, whatever,” Brian told him. “So, anyhow, like I was going to tell you earlier, I'm up at the mountain house and will be for probably the rest of the summer. If you need to get a hold of me, you can call my cellphone or the house phone here.”
“Ah, I see,” Joe said.
There was something in the tone of his voice that made Brian think that something was up.
“So, I know you've just come off all that book/movie promotion and that you need some downtime, but I need a favor from you. Actually, I need a pretty big favor.”
Yep, something was up. Joe didn't usually call in favors, so whatever it was, it was big.
“What do you need, Joe?”
“Look, I'm not going to beat around the bush any longer: my daughter needs a place to stay for the summer. She's been through a lot this year, and it would be nice for her to get away for a while. I know you have that guesthouse that you never use, and I was wondering if I could rent it from you for her?”
Joe had a daughter? Brian had never known. The only thing he had known about Joe's family life was that his wife had died a couple of years before he and Brian had met. Brian pondered the implications of taking on a person in his guesthouse. He wondered if he'd get that quiet summer as he had thought. However, if it was Joe's daughter, then she probably had a good head on her shoulders. He was willing to risk it for Joe. The man had taken a big risk with Brian, so Brian thought that he should do the same.
“I thought you said this was going to be a big favor? Joe, of course, she can stay, but I'd be offended if you offered me rent.”
“Alright, but at least let me buy you dinner when you're up in New York again,” Joe told him. There seemed to be a bit of relief in his voice.
“Sure, sure. One question, though,” Brian said. “I'm not really up to hosting wild parties up here. I'm assuming she's pretty well, uh...behaved?”
There was laughter at the other end of the line. “Brian, she's twenty-six and taught high school for four years. She's been done with partying for a while now. She will not give you any trouble. In fact, she's pretty quiet. You'll probably even forget that she's there.”
Brian scratched his chin.
Yeah, well, that would depend on whether your twenty-six-year-old daughter is cute, he thought.
“Sounds good,” Brian replied, trying to shake the thought from his head.
He was supposed to be concentrating on the new book, not women. Besides, something told him that Joe Morgan's daughter was going to be off-limits if Brian valued their relationship.
“Great. When can I bring her down?” Joe sounded rather anxious.
“Actually, I just had the whole place cleaned before I came up, so it's ready to go. Come whenever you like.”
“Tomorrow sounds good?”
Okay, so Joe was really anxious. Interesting.
“Yeah, sure. By the way, what was her name?”
“Freya,” Joe replied.
Pretty name, Brian thought. Different.
“Okay, so I'll be planning on seeing you and Freya tomorrow then?” Brian confirmed.
“Yes. Thank you so much.”
“No problem.”
“By the way,” Joe added. “If we could keep this on the low-down, I'd really appreciate it. Like I've said, she's been through...a lot.”
“Sure. See you tomorrow.”
“See you.”
When Brian clicked the end call button, he stood perplexed by the whole conversation. Joe was being a little...odd. He seemed anxious, almost worried. Brian sighed. Somehow, he knew that his quiet summer wasn't going to be that way after all.
Chapter 8
Monday, May 18
12:40 PM
Howard was nervous as hell. After receiving Joe Morgan's phone call yesterday, he had been racking his brain with what he could do to help. Poking around the station without directions could get Chief Johnson royally pissed at him. He had finally realized that there was one person who had the brains and the guts to dig past the surface on this case and help him out. And he wasn't exactly looking forward to meeting up with her again.
Alexis Montgomery—the woman who had gotten away. The woman who was also too damned good for him. She was currently an Assistant District Attorney for Mecklenburg County and had a great record of winning cases. Of course, she would though. She was smart, gutsy, not to mention beautiful.
So, when Howard had asked to meet her at a coffee shop in Uptown, he was both surprised and nervous that she had agreed. The last time they had talked, they had not been on very good terms.
Stepping into the coffee shop, he saw her already sitting down, sipping on a cup.
Damn, she was beautiful.
Tall and in-shape with curves in all the right places. She was Black with gorgeous looks and a body to die for. She always wore her hair in a set of micro-braids (during work hours, her hair was pulled back in a severe bun like it was today). Currently, she was in one of her typical “Ms. I'm an Assistant District Attorney” power suits in gray. He made a B-line straight to her, thinking that he probably shouldn't delay the inevitable.
“This better be good, Detective, or I'm out of here,” she told him without even looking up. At some point between the time that he had last seen her and now, she had also apparently developed superpowers.
“Alexis,” he breathed as he sat down in the chair across from hers. “You don't have to do all of that.”
“Do I?” She asked, her amazing brown eyes flicking up at him. “Seems to me, the last time we talked, you were asking me to get lost.”
Howard shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had hoped that she wasn't going to bring up the past. He had been a complete idiot with how he had treated her. Just like with all the other women he had dated after a certain amount of time and things got to be serious, he always sent them packing. He had told himself that he wasn't the kind to settle down like that.
Unfortunately, Alexis Montgomery had ended up being the best thing in his life, and he had pushed her away. She had every reason to be pissed, even if it had been over a year.
“Lexie, can we just put that all in the past for the moment? I'm not asking you out on a date here. There's a girl's life in trouble here.”
She stared at him hard for a long time, her eyes narrowing. Lord, did she have the woman-glare down pat.
Finally, she said crisply, “Fine. I'm doing it because I know the investigation you're talking about, and I want to help. However, you do not get to call me 'Lexie' anymore. That ship sailed a year ago. Got it?”
“Got it,” Howard agreed.
Within the next ten minutes or so, he filled her in on what was happening with investigation or lack thereof and what had happened recently in New York. When he was done, her expression was unreadable.
“It seems hard to believe that Chief Johnson is not pursuing this aggressively,” she said. “He's usually very tough on crimes against women like that.”
“That's what I thought too,” Howard confirmed. “There's something not right about the way the investigation is being handled. I mean, Davis has done nothing with it. I even tried to talk to him this morning about it, and he blew me off completely.”
“It's almost as if they are protecting someone,” Alexis concluded.
“Yeah, but who?”
“I could probably do some digging around at the courthouse. See what I can find. I think Johnson has lived here for a while. Don't know about Davis, but I might be able to find something.”
“Great, thank you.”
“I'm not doing it for you,” Alexis said and shot him one of her classic glares.
“Yeah, yeah. I know. I'll do some more digging myself. See what I can find. I have to be careful, though, with Johnson. He's been...not so pleasant with me as of late. How about we meet this weekend over dinner and discuss what we've found?”
“Nice try, lover-boy,” she told him flat out. “It ain't gonna happen.”
“Okay, how about lunch then? Saturday?”
“Sunday. You don't rank that high on my social calendar, Detective.”
Yeah, but he'd certainly like to change that. Just seeing her again was stirring up a ton of emotions that Howard had thought that he had buried. Even if she did look like she wanted to rip his head off.
“Sunday, it is,” Howard said enthusiastically.
At this point, he was going to take whatever he could get.
“Look, I have to get back,” she told him. “Don't bother me again during the workweek.”
And with that, Alexis Montgomery got up and strolled away.
Whew, what a woman, he thought and smiled.
6:25 PM
Freya stared out of the window of her father's car, watching as they rounded the increasingly tight mountain terrain. There had been a few times that she had gotten nervous when the road had gotten narrow and the edge had a hefty drop. Yeah, that was exactly what she needed with her anxiety. It was beautiful country, though—she had to admit.
They had been traveling for most of the day, her father driving the whole way. She was still nervous about staying somewhere without him, but he had assured her that she would be much safer away from the head of Morgan Books. They had packed up some of her things from her father's condo very early that morning and had left from there.
“We're almost there, sweetheart,” her father reassured her. “I think.”
Her father had gone completely low-tech for the trip after explaining how he and Detective Greene thought James was finding her. No GPS, no smartphone, no laptop, no nothing. They had lucked out that the car that he used in New York was an older model (he had not wanted to ding up a new car in the hustle and bustle of a very large city) and that there was no GPS, satellite radio, or roadside assistance. He had gotten two pre-paid cellphones so that they could call each other exclusively on them without being traced. And he was paying for everything with cash. He had even given Freya some just in case she needed it while she was away.
The thought of being away from her father made her nervous. How was she going to cope? He had helped her out so much after her attack. And she wasn't quite sure about this guy, Brian, with whom she would be staying in his guesthouse. Her father had vouched for him, telling her that he had formerly been an Army Ranger and that he had been a good friend for many years. She wanted to believe her father, but she still had her doubts.
“Ah, here we go!” Her father exclaimed, relief sounding in his voice.
They had turned into a long, narrow gravel driveway and were currently going through a thick pat
ch of woods. When the car finally rounded to a clearing, what Freya saw was breath-taking. There was a beautiful, large, two-story rustic house that sat in the middle of the clearing. It was smartly landscaped and well-cared for. Beside the main house, there was a much smaller house with the same wood siding. Behind both houses was a gorgeous view of the mountains and what looked to be a steep drop off.
Beautiful, Freya thought. So peaceful.
She wondered if she would ever find peace in her life. Maybe this place could help her?
“Judging by your reaction, I take it you like it?” Her father asked, a look of amusement on his face.
She nodded slowly.
“Good,” he replied. “I think you'll really like the guesthouse. Brian invited me to stay here last summer for a weekend. The accommodations were really nice.”
They opened the car doors to get out and a rush of cool air hit Freya in the face. Apparently, evenings in the mountains could get a bit chilly. She always wore long-sleeved shirts to cover up the scars on her wrists, but they weren't really doing much to cut down the chill. When she looked up to the main house, she could see the front door opening and a man stepping out. He waved to them and strolled over to the car.
As he came closer to them, Freya got a much better look at him and was shocked. He was younger than she had expected, probably early thirties. When her father had said a friend, she had thought that this Brian guy was her father's age. He was also drop-dead handsome. Black hair, soulful gray eyes. Tall and built like a tank. Strong jawline. Gorgeous.
Woah, Freya thought.
It had been the first time since her attack that she had had any sort of attraction to anyone. Not that it mattered. She was a shell. She didn't really have those sorts of feelings anymore. In fact, she'd never have those types of feelings again.
“Joe!”
The man called and half-jogged the rest of the distance to the car.
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