by Raven Scott
Evan heard Nia moving around. It was almost seven-thirty. He knew she’d want to leave for work around eight o’clock, so he completed a few additional tasks then started to pack up his things. She entered the living room when he was washing up his cup at the kitchen sink. He turned to find her putting on her shoes and walking to the front door.
“I’d like to go into the office a little early, if that’s okay,” she stated quietly.
Any thoughts Evan had of a warm, intimate morning welcome faded a little. Thinking she may just have been feeling awkward about things between them, Evan walked toward her, a relaxed smile on his lips.
“Sure. I’m all set,” he replied.
She turned as he approached, bending to pick up her large bag left near the front door from yesterday.
“Good,” she mumbled, looking down at her feet.
His smile faded as he looked at her profile and posture. She wore a simple, blue sleeveless dress in a soft, draping fabric and narrow skirt that fell to her knees. Her hair was freshly straightened, slicked into a high ponytail. In black stiletto heels and blood red lips, Nia looked incredibly stunning and completely untouchable.
He clenched his jaw, recognizing her attempt to erect a wall between them. Despite the night they had shared, so deeply intimate and unrestrained, she still didn’t trust him. Disappointment pooled in his stomach, but Evan nodded his head in acceptance. It was just going to take more time, but he could be patient.
On the way to her office, he explained the arrangements for the next few days.
“You and I will ride to and from the office together. Then, Tony and I will be on-site at the gallery providing full protection at all times. You’ll eat lunch in your office or in the break room, and we’ll ensure you have whatever you want.”
She nodded, looking out the window the whole time.
“What if I need to go to a client meeting?” she asked.
“It would be preferable if you assign any meetings outside of the office to one of your account reps. But if it’s unavoidable, I’ll take you.”
She didn’t respond, but Evan could feel her annoyance rolling off her in waves.
“It should only be for a few days, Nia.”
“I hope so.”
She took out her cell phone, keeping herself busy for the remainder of the drive. He left her to it.
At the gallery, Tony met them inside the front doors. Nia said a polite hello then went up the curved stairs to the offices.
“Everything all right?” Tony asked Evan as they both watched her ascend the steps.
“As good as can be expected.”
“I can take the night watch if needed,” Tony added.
Evan looked at him hard. Like there was any chance in hell he’d let another man stay with her through the night. The agent seemed immune to his glacial stare, and only shrugged.
“Just offering to help,” the older man added before walking away.
Evan ground his teeth, annoyed with his own asinine reaction. How had a mere woman turned him into an undisciplined animal, ready to mark his territory with the littlest provocation? It was pitiful. He followed the other man through the gallery floor. As they approached Emma, the receptionist, she smiled brightly and stepped out from behind her counter. She was now aware that Evan was a partner in the security consulting firm hired to update their systems.
“Edward said you all would be working here for a few days,” stated Emma. “Just let me know if you need anything. We’re a little disorganized with Chris gone, but I’ll help out any way I can.”
“Thanks, Miss Sterling. Appreciate it,” Tony replied.
Evan gave the young girl a nod and the two men entered the warehouse space. They had set up their operations in the office Morton had occupied. Raymond and Michael were already there doing an inventory of the new security equipment. They had a lot to get done. Now that Edward had explained to everyone that there was an updated security system being installed, the team was able to move around the building with full access and transparency. As an extra precaution against any leak to the media or their clients, the employees were only told that Chris had quit, with no mention of the theft and or the attempts against Nia’s life.
The team worked quickly, and the new system was up and running by late afternoon. Then, they dialed into the videoconference bridge at the Fortis headquarters for a final meeting with Lucas and Sam.
“Everything looks good, boys,” Lucas confirmed, reviewing the infrastructure through the network admin access they had mirrored to the Fortis headquarters. “Raymond, let me know when you’ve completed the full diagnostic, then we’re good to go.”
“We have some new info from the feds,” Sam stated in his gruff Scottish bur. “Holstein claims he has more information about the diamonds and wants to make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” Evan asked. “He got caught red-handed with the goods.”
“Well, he’s asking for immunity before he tells them what he knows.”
Evan looked at Raymond. The computer wiz was already going through Holstein’s details.
“Tell the Bureau guys to give us twenty-four hours. Let’s see if we can find out what he plans to share, for free,” Evan suggested.
“Okay,” Lucas agreed. “What about Morton? Any sign of him yet?”
“No, nothing,” Evan replied. “It’s like he’s completely disappeared. But he has to raise his head eventually. If we assume that the ten grand cash deposit was split at least three ways between Morton, Walsh, and the concierge at the Mayfair Hotel, Morton’s cash flow will run out pretty quick.”
The meeting lasted a few more minutes, then Evan’s team went back to work. Edward had hired a new security team, and the plan was for Evan and Tony to train them over the next two days. Raymond and Michael would stay focused on the other aspects of the investigation.
It was after six o’clock when he met Nia at the front doors and they drove home in silence. Somehow, through the day, she’d managed to become even more withdrawn. Evan wanted to ask how her day was, have a normal conversation, but the tension emanating from her stiff posture suggested it wasn’t a good idea. They were within blocks of her apartment when she finally spoke.
“I don’t really have anything in my fridge to make dinner,” she stated. “Maybe we should just order something in. Chinese or something?”
He gripped the wheel, suddenly extremely annoyed. That’s it? That’s all she was going to say? Damn it! Evan had promised himself he would give her time, but this was impossible to ignore.
“We can order whatever you’d like,” he replied stiffly.
Another few moments went by. He pulled into a spot in front of her duplex. She started to collect her purse and laptop bag.
“Is that all you want to talk about, Nia? What we’re going to eat for dinner?” he finally demanded. His tone was harsher than he intended, but Evan was at his limit.
“What else is there?”
He was about to explain exactly what else there was, starting with a night spent naked and entwined, when a shadow near her front door caught his eye. Evan was exiting the car within seconds, his hand resting on the grip of his gun tucked into the back of his pants.
“Stay right here and don’t move,” he instructed firmly before he slammed the door and locked it.
As Evan strode swiftly up the walkway, the shadow moved from the doorway, to look into Nia’s apartment from outside the window. The man then pressed his face close up against the glass to block out the glare from the sun. The baseball hat on his head kept his face in the shadows. Evan crept up behind him, soundlessly, and had the gun pressed to his back before the guy could flinch.
“Hands up, and don’t move a hair,” whispered Evan next to the prowler’s ear, mindful of anyone who may be walking by. “Now, who the hell are you and what are you doing here?”
The man had followed the instructions. He was a few inches shorter than Evan, with a lean, wiry frame.
�
��Who the hell are you?” the stranger shot back, the voice heavy with attitude and little fear or concern for the weapon aimed at close range.
“I asked you first, and I won’t ask again. Who are you?”
“Evan, stop,” he heard Nia yelling as she ran up the walkway.
Damn it! He cursed in his head.
“Move, and you’ll have a bullet in the back of your knee,” Evan muttered to the man just before she arrived.
“Evan, what are you doing?” she demanded, stopping in front of them, glaring openly at Evan as he stood aggressively behind the other man “Let him go!”
“Not until one of you tells me who he is. I tried asking nicely, but this clown wants to play games.”
The prowler still refused to say anything, and Nia looked at Evan like he was the criminal. He felt the pulse in his forehead start to throb.
“It’s Nigel! Now, let him go!”
Evan stepped back immediately, the gun back in the waist holder before they drew any more neighborhood attention.
“He could have told me that,” he grumbled, stepping away, refusing to apologize for his vigilance. “You may want to tell him it’s not a good idea to creep around in the shadows.”
“Nigel, are you okay? What are you doing here?” Nia asked, ignoring Evan’s suggestion. She hugged the thug in a long, close embrace that became uncomfortable to watch. Yet Evan kept his eyes trained on them.
“I came to see how you’re doing,” Nigel St. Clair finally replied. “Who is this pit bull?”
Nigel jabbed his thumb over at where Evan was standing, as though pointing at an annoying fly. Evan ground his teeth.
“His name is Evan and he’s . . . providing protection for a little while,” Nia finally explained.
“Why?” demanded St. Clair with obvious concern. “Nia, what’s going on? I thought you said the case was solved?”
“Okay,” Evan finally interjected. “Let’s take this inside.”
St. Clair looked like he was going to object to the order, and Evan hoped he would. Something about his cocky attitude made Evan want to knock him on his ass. But Nia took the arm of her “stepbrother” and walked him forward toward her front door.
“Okay, what going on, little girl?” the clown asked once they were inside.
Evan left them to do a quick sweep of the house. When all was clear, he went into Nia’s spare room to make a call.
“What’s up, Ice?” answered Tony.
“Nigel St. Clair has just arrived at Nia’s house. I want to know why he’s here and anything else relevant,” Evan instructed in a clipped tone.
“You got it, boss.”
They disconnected and Evan went back in the living room to keep an eye on things. Nia and her new visitor were sitting on the couch. St. Clair had his arm around the back of her seat, and held one of her hands. They looked close, cozy.
The throbbing vein in his forehead was pounding against his skull.
Evan had seen the guy’s pictures, so he knew what he looked like. Yet St. Clair was still more put together in person than Evan expected. With his dark blond hair, sharp green eyes, he was also better looking. Not exactly the picture of a down-and-out ex-con. Clearly he had moved on from his time inside, now making a decent living supervising in a warehouse.
Nia bowed her head at something St. Clair said, and the other man brushed her back gently with his hand. Evan saw red. He folded his arms across his chest in the effort to not break the arm attached to that hand.
The knowledge of what Nia and this man had been through and endured together was impossible to ignore. This was the man who was there for her when she needed protection at fifteen, when she was alone and vulnerable, abused in the worst way possible. This man, who would have been no more than twenty years old at the time, had sacrificed himself to enforce raw justice. Evan knew St. Clair deserved respect and gratitude, not the white-hot jealousy pounding through his veins. But the knot in his stomach only grew as he watched them together, bound by history and the worst kind of tragedy.
Nia finally stood up and walked toward Evan. He maintained his planted stance at the back of the room, his face more hardened than he knew.
“You don’t need to watch us like a hawk, Evan,” she snapped, giving him the eye. “I’m ordering Chinese and Nigel is staying for dinner.”
They ate sometime later. Evan stayed in the back of the apartment, watchful but distant, listening to the hum of their conversation for the next couple of hours. Finally, St. Clair left for the night. Evan followed him outside, and watched as the other man got into a higher-end sedan parked down the street and drove off, engine revving high. He then secured the perimeter of the duplex again, and was headed back into the apartment when his phone rang with a call. It was from Raymond.
“Ice, the state police just found a dead body in a motel in Somerville. It was Chris Morton.”
“Okay, give me a minute.”
Evan locked the front door, then checked on Nia. She was in the shower.
“What are the details?” he finally asked in reply.
“He’s been dead for a few days, maybe even since Thursday,” Raymond explained. “It was a gunshot to the head. Same caliber as the hit on Flannigan.”
“Shit! Someone took him out the same day as the attempt on Nia. They were cleaning up.”
“Yeah, but who?”
Evan ran his hand over his head.
“It’s whoever was listening through the bug on Nia’s laptop. And if it wasn’t Morton, then it has to be Walsh or whoever he hired to steal the jewels. We have to find them, Raymond.”
“I’m working on it,” muttered Raymond with frustration. “But I think I’ve found out what Holstein wants to bargain with. The bank account used for the money transfer isn’t his. Not directly, anyway. I did some aggressive network intrusion in places I shouldn’t, and the Cayman account traces back to a shell company also registered on the island. The same shell company owns Holstein’s venture capital firm, but it’s also a small subsidiary of Strom Investments.”
“Strom,” Evan repeated with a mix of urgency and dread.
“Yeah. They’re a stock brokerage company with corporate headquarters in Detroit, but their biggest office is on Wall Street.”
Evan’s heart was pounding as he looked across the room as Nia walked in from her bedroom, now dressed in a soft nightshirt.
“Looking at Holstein’s balance sheet, I don’t think he would blow two million dollars on some jewelry that he could never sell,” Raymond added. “I think he was representing the real buyer.”
“Send me everything you have,” Evan stated in a low voice.
Chapter 25
Evan was up long after Nia had gone to bed Wednesday night. He couldn’t sleep. The implications of what Raymond had revealed were racing through his brain.
Strom Investments was founded in Bloomfield, Michigan, twenty years ago by Walter Strom. Now, his son Colby was an upstart executive in the company, managing their New York office. The same Colby Strom who had viciously attached Nia just eleven years ago.
It all made sense. Like Tony’s contact Spencer had told them, people who wanted to know about jewels knew of Worthington’s acquisition of the Crimson Amazon for their upcoming auction. And if Strom were keeping tabs on Nia, he definitely would have known about it. Then he set out to steal it right out from under her, and possibly ruin her career in the process.
When Evan looked at the picture of Colby he found online, it wasn’t hard to imagine the resentment that was fueling him. If he had once been a good-looking boy, there were few signs of it now. Whatever Nigel St. Clair had done to him had left considerable damage to his bone structure around his nose and along his jaw. And any plastic surgery since had only left mask-like skin over a lopsided frame.
It was definitely enough to feed the rage of a narcissistic sociopath who would rape a fifteen-year-old classmate, and capture it on film. And he must have blamed Nia for the damage done to him after.
<
br /> Thursday morning, Evan told Lucas what they had found.
“Who else on the team knows about the details of Nia’s juvenile records?” Evan asked.
“Just you, me, and Sam,” his friend replied.
“Good. I’d like to keep it that way if possible. For Nia’s sake. I think we should hand over what we know to the feds and let them take down Strom. They won’t need to cut a deal with Holstein. I’m sure Raymond was just scratching the surface of what that prick Strom was involved in.”
“No problem, I’ll send them what we have today,” Lucas stated. “Now, are you ready to owe me drinks for the next month? I finally locked down the IP address for that bugged laptop power cord. The signal was bouncing around in a random rerouting pattern. But once I was able to isolate—”
“Luc, what did you find!” Evan finally interrupted, impatiently.
“The IP address for the receiver, and a location in Dorchester.”
“Send it to me.”
Evan had the team assembled in the Worthington warehouse a few moments later working out a plan to investigate the receiver, and the renter of the residence, a Tommy Blige with a sizeable criminal background. By noon, he, Tony, and Michael were converging on a townhouse only a few blocks from where Flannigan was shot. Michael knocked at the front door, while Evan and Tony entered through the unlocked rear entrance. Apparently, the single male occupant didn’t like Michael’s look, but when he turned to run out of the house, he found the other two Fortis agents blocking his path. There was a brief struggle in which Evan landed a couple of satisfying blows to Blige’s face. But it was an otherwise smooth operation.
Not only did they find the receiver to Nia’s bug, but there was also an impressive amount of illegal equipment and contraband in the house to make talking worthwhile for Blige. He gave up what he knew pretty easily, confessing to be one of the three robbers, and responsible for the work on Worthington’s surveillance to loop the video and shut down the motion sensors. Fortis walked away with the names of his others partners in the heist. All three were in police custody within hours, and now under investigation for the murders of Matt Flannigan and Chris Morton related to the stolen property found in Blige’s house. But Blige couldn’t give them Walsh.