Security Measures

by Sara K. Parker

  “I usually do,” Triss said, scouring her brain for any excuse to eat alone in her new apartment. But she had no food in her kitchen yet, and Hunter knew it. She shoved more Play-Doh into a container and snapped on a lid.

  She wasn’t surprised by her conflicting emotions. She’d recognized them for what they were earlier this summer. As much as she loved being around Hunter and his kids, they weren’t good for her. She’d worked hard to focus on her goals and not allow anything to sidetrack her. And she’d done such a good job of it that she had almost convinced herself that she’d imagined her feelings for Hunter and been confused by her attachment to his kids. Today, in one short hour, she’d been blindsided by the depth of her feelings for them. Not good.

  It could never work, and she knew it. Secrets destroyed relationships. And she was harboring a secret that she could never tell Hunter, or anyone, about.

  “Can you do this every Thursday?” Brandon asked, passing Hunter a handful of Play-Doh containers.

  “No,” Triss said automatically, and both men looked up at her in surprise. She was immediately embarrassed by how adamant she’d sounded. “They don’t live close,” she explained, “and Josie had to leave school early to get here before dinner.”

  “We could come on some holidays, though, or Saturdays,” Hunter offered.

  “Not this Saturday, though! It’s my birthday!” Josie announced with a little bounce in her step as she toted two more containers over and dropped them in the bucket.

  “How old will you be?” Brandon asked.

  Six, Triss thought before Josie said the number out loud. Six beautiful, adorable, love-filled years old.

  “Six!” Josie said, and then her attention flew to Triss as if she’d just remembered something. She ran around the table and up to her dad, tapping him on the arm and tugging him to her level. She stood on tiptoe and whispered something in his ear. Hunter hesitated for a bare second, but nodded, his expression giving nothing away.

  Josie bounced away from him and raced up to Triss. “I’m having a zoo birthday! Dad said you can come, too!”

  Her sweet voice wrapped around Triss’s heart and squeezed. No, she couldn’t go to the birthday party at the zoo with Hunter’s perfect little girl. She couldn’t possibly go. Not when she had missed her own daughter’s birthday party every year for the past five years. Not when, in two short weeks, she’d miss the sixth one. But Josie’s eyes were fixed on her with hope, and she couldn’t think of an excuse. So even though her heart said no, she said, “That sounds like a lot of fun.”

  But it didn’t. Even as Josie spun around with a happy shout and Triss tried to tell herself it was not a big deal, conflicting feelings of guilt and love rose up and overwhelmed her.

  “Great. It’s at one. We’ll pick you up at twelve,” Hunter said, his eyes scanning her face, as if he could read her thoughts.

  She focused on pressing the ill-fitting lid back on the bucket, willing away the sudden sting in her eyes.

  “Everything okay?” Hunter’s hand came to her shoulder. She let go of the container and whirled away from his touch, rejecting the warmth that coursed through her.

  “Sorry, I—” he began.

  “I can’t get that lid on,” Triss said quickly, heart thumping wildly as she gestured to the bucket as if she’d given up on an impossible challenge.

  Hunter stared at her for a half second, but then reached out and pressed the lid onto the bucket without saying a word.

  Heat crept up Triss’s neck at her jumpy response to him. Something had happened yesterday when he’d pulled her out of the car, and when he’d lifted her into his arms. Triss had always been careful to avoid his touch until yesterday. Now, it seemed like he was everywhere. She could still feel his steady grip on her as he’d toted her to the car, the beat of his heart under her ear. And now, every touch was magnified. She suspected he felt it, too.

  “Daddy, I’m hungwy,” Levi said, popping a thumb in his mouth, his raven hair spiking in too many directions.

  “We’re eating now, buddy,” Hunter assured him. “Follow Triss.”

  It was another half hour before Hunter’s shift would be over. Dinner wouldn’t kill her. She led the way to the dining room, the scent of pasta making her stomach rumble. Had she even eaten today?

  Triss pointed to a long table by the windows where people were already seated. “You can set the kids up there,” she said. “I’ll get you a plate.”

  Hunter waved her off, leading his kids to the table. “I’ll eat at home.”

  Triss sidestepped the buffet Barb had set up with baked ziti, salad and rolls, making her way directly to the kitchen to pull one of the premade meals from the fridge.

  “Oh, Triss, I’ve got a hot dish for you,” Barb said before Triss had even made it to the fridge. “Just a minute.” She finished washing a pot and set it on the drying rack, then pulled on a mitt and reached into the oven. She took out a small square glass dish with what looked like baked ziti.

  “Dairy-free baked ziti?” Triss asked, barely hiding her excitement.

  Barb grinned proudly. “If you’re willing to try some cheese substitutes I’ve been experimenting with.”

  Triss wasn’t picky—never had been. “I’ll try anything once.”

  Barb dished a serving onto a plate. “I’ll put the rest in some individual containers and pop them in the freezer for another day.”

  “You’re amazing,” Triss said. “Thank you.”

  She walked into the dining hall, dropped two rolls on her plate and made her way to the now nearly full table where Hunter and the kids had set up. Hunter had saved a spot next to him, and Triss was almost too hungry to even think about his physical proximity to her. But no sooner had she sat and pulled out her fork than Iris gasped loudly, her plate clattering to the floor.

  “Oh, I’ve gone and made a mess!” She scooted back from the table, red pasta falling off her lap and onto the floor.

  Next to her, Courtney and Zach jumped into action, reaching for napkins, and Triss hurried over to help as well. Luke appeared at her side, using napkins to scoop ziti into a trash can Kristy had dragged over.

  As they cleaned up the last of it, a housekeeper appeared with a mop, and Iris excused herself to go change.

  Triss made her way to her seat, feeling a little sorry for Iris and how embarrassed she’d seemed. She wondered if she’d started to fall asleep and had knocked over her food. Occasionally, she forgot to take her medication, and she’d fall asleep in the middle of a conversation.

  She pulled her chair in and took a bite of the baked ziti Barb had prepared for her. Amazing. The woman was a genius. She took another bite, considering the idea of asking Barb to go ahead and leave another serving in the fridge because she’d want it for lunch the next day. But then her throat suddenly felt itchy.

  She set down her fork and grabbed her water, drinking quickly with the false hope that this was not an allergic reaction.

  But it was, and it came on quick, the skin around her mouth tingling and a cough coming on.

  “Are you okay?” Hunter turned to her, alarm in his expression.

  She was coughing too hard to answer, the coughs ending in a wheeze more painful than she’d ever experienced. Her pulse skyrocketed, fear closing in as her airway constricted.

  “Your EpiPen,” Hunter said urgently, immediately assessing the problem. “Where is it?”

  It was in her school backpack, but she couldn’t get the words out.

  Around her, people were jumping into action, and Triss saw Barb running to the table, panic written all over her face.

  “No!” she cried. “I was careful. I was—” Her hands came to her mouth in horror.

  “Kaye, call 911!” Hunter shouted, thrusting his phone at her. Then he passed a key to Kristy as he pulled Triss out of her chair. “Zach, Courtney, Kristy—ransack her
apartment and find that EpiPen!”

  * * *

  Hunter carefully moved Triss to the floor, where someone had tossed a thick red crocheted blanket.

  Her dark eyes were wide with panic as she struggled to breathe, pink hives spreading fast from her neck to her chest. “Help is on the way,” Hunter said, wrapping a hand around hers and trying to keep his voice steady. “They’ll find the EpiPen.”

  “Will this help?” George asked, and he handed over a travel-sized bottle of Benadryl.

  Triss reached for it, nodding. Hunter grabbed it, pulled off the lid and fished out two pills as someone pressed a cup of water toward Triss.

  She was wheezing more than coughing now, and he wasn’t sure she could even swallow the pills, but he lifted her head and she managed to down the two pills and a couple of swigs of water.

  “My backpack,” she choked out, before another cough took hold.

  “The EpiPen?”

  She nodded weakly.

  “I’ll tell them!” Barb said, and took off running.

  Long seconds passed as Triss’s wheezing grew louder, and then Josie appeared at his side, her brown eyes filled with tears, her nose pink.

  “Daddy, what’s wrong with Triss?” she asked.

  Levi sat frozen in his seat at the table, thumb in his mouth.

  “She’s going to be okay,” he said, hoping he was telling the truth. “She’s allergic to something she ate.”

  “What’s ‘allergic’?”

  “Here!” Kristy yelled, rushing toward them with the EpiPen. She skidded to a stop and dropped to the floor next to Triss, whose labored breaths were echoing through the silent dining hall.

  “What do I do?”

  Courtney was steps behind her. She kneeled next to Triss, grabbed the EpiPen from Kristy and thrust the orange tip against Triss’s right thigh, holding it in place. Hunter could do nothing but hold Triss’s hand. He locked eyes with her, willing the medicine to do its job. He knew that sometimes, it was too little, too late.

  The room was silent and everyone was on their feet with worry, the only sound Triss’s labored breathing. And then she gasped, one big breath, then again, and a glint of relief filled her eyes. Sirens sounded nearby, and Hunter felt Triss squeeze his hand. She was not going to be victim number five. Not tonight. Not ever, if he had a say in the matter. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, his attention lighting on Barb, who was standing worriedly near the kitchen. What had gone wrong with dinner? Certainly she knew about Triss’s allergy. And what was Triss thinking—eating baked ziti despite her dairy allergy?

  As the paramedics arrived, Hunter retreated to give them room to work, then turned to find the kids. They were standing by the table, Josie holding Levi’s hand tightly, Levi’s thumb in his mouth. His heart swelled at the sight. He hoped they always had such a strong bond. As an only child, that was something he’d missed out on. He crouched to pull them both into a hug.

  “Is she gonna be okay?” Josie asked, her delicate eyebrows furrowed.

  “Yes.” His throat was tight as he hugged his daughter and remembered the night she’d finally understood her mother was never coming back. “She’s going to be fine,” he whispered.

  “What’s going on?” a voice asked behind him, and Hunter turned to see Bryan in the entrance to the dining hall.

  “You’re early.”

  Bryan scanned the chaotic room, the paramedics loading Triss onto a stretcher. “Looks like I’m late.”

  Hunter explained what had happened, his attention flickering to Barb. Her eyes were glossy as she stood at the counter, her face as white as the fridge behind her.

  “Can we go home, Daddy?” Josie asked.

  He didn’t want to go home. He wanted to stay and see what Barb had to say, make sure Triss was okay. But Bryan was here and could ask Barb the questions. Not to mention, Hunter could already hear Triss telling the paramedics she was fine now. His kids were hungry and tired and probably a little traumatized. He had to go.

  “Sure, Josie-bug, let me just say goodbye to Triss.”

  He approached Triss as the paramedics wheeled the stretcher down a ramp and out of Creekside. The hives were already fading, and her breathing was under control. She was using her quick recovery to her advantage and trying to convince the paramedics she was fine.

  “You need to get checked out,” Hunter interrupted, and she speared him with a look of frustration. “You can’t mess with an allergy like this. Especially considering what happened yesterday.”

  The fight seemed to go out of her. “You’re right,” she said softly.

  “I’m calling Luke to meet you up there.”

  “Please don’t. He worries enough.”

  “He’ll kill me if I don’t.”

  “True.”

  “I can follow you there if you want—”

  “No.” Her tone was adamant. “Take the kids home,” she added more gently, her gaze dropping to her hands.

  If he didn’t have the kids with him, nothing could have kept him from going to the hospital with her, but he could see she was determined to keep him away. She’d made every effort to distance herself from him earlier, during the activity, and she’d practically leaped across the room when he’d lightly touched her. He reminded himself that she had dropped out of his life and the kids’ lives for a reason, and he’d respect her choice even if he didn’t understand it. He’d volunteered to spend the next week here, at least, and his responsibility was to protect her—not get sidelined by an attraction that had no place here and was clearly unreciprocated.

  “I’m calling Officer Goodson on my way home,” he said as the paramedics maneuvered the stretcher into the ambulance.

  “It was an accident,” Triss said. “Barb will explain.”

  The doors shut and Hunter returned to Creekside. He found it hard to believe it was an accident, but Triss had seemed convinced. He’d call Officer Goodson, anyway, just to be on the safe side. He said goodbye to Bryan and led the kids to the common area. Josie ran to grab the bucket of Play-Doh, and as she was lifting it off the table, it dropped, the lid popping off and containers rolling in every direction.

  The kids laughed and started chasing the containers. Hunter suppressed a sigh and followed along. A tub of yellow rolled toward the computer niche, and then made its way under the desks to the back of the room. Hunter jogged in that direction but the container rolled under the desks before he could catch it. He went around the row to grab it and accidentally startled Donald Keaton, who was still at the corner computer after all this time. The man had been slumped so low in his seat that Hunter hadn’t realized he was still there. Don jumped slightly, and Hunter noticed the quick blink of the computer screen. He’d minimized the browser window he’d been on, and now an empty Google search page was open.

  “Didn’t mean to startle you,” Hunter said, picking up the container casually.

  Don blinked, appearing sleepy. “I guess I dozed for a bit.”

  “Dinner’s still going, if you’re hungry.”

  Don stood. “I think I am.”

  Had he really slept through the paramedics arriving? And what had he been doing on the computer that he’d wanted to hide? Hunter didn’t know much about computers himself, but he knew someone who did. He’d put a call in to Harrison, the college computer whiz Shield sometimes contracted out, see if he could do a little unofficial search of Harmony’s public computers. Hunter filed away the thought and said good-night, then gathered the kids and headed to the car.

  The wind was whipping outside, leaves flying around the parking lot as Josie buckled in and Hunter snapped Levi’s car seat buckles.

  “Can we have hot chocolate for dessert?” Josie asked.

  “We’ll see,” Hunter replied, but his mind wasn’t on the kids or the pretty fall leaves or hot chocolate. He shut the door of his truc
k and took a long look at the property. What was happening at Harmony? Was there a killer on-site? A resident? A staff member? One of the graduate students?

  He got in his truck and turned it on. One Shield agent was not enough. Tomorrow, he’d go hard on Stella and try to convince her to agree to more. And he’d offer to help Roman conduct some interviews and do some training. He trusted Bryan, but there was a reason Shield operated almost exclusively in teams. And with Triss’s life on the line, Hunter refused to take any unnecessary risks.

  SIX

  “This is overkill.” Stella handed Roman’s proposal back to him, her voice flat. But Hunter read uncertainty in her eyes. He and Roman had presented her with enough evidence to make her question whether Harmony’s current security protocols were enough.

  “It’s temporary,” Hunter reminded her.

  “And if investigations continue to go the way we think they’re going, police will start looking into the four recent deaths here pretty soon,” Roman added, his dark gray eyes serious. “If that happens, you’ll have a lot of concerned family calling and asking you what you’re doing to keep their loved ones safe.”

  Hunter could almost see the shift in Stella’s perspective at that line of reasoning. She might not like to be told what to do, but she was a smart woman. Most of Harmony’s residents were relatively wealthy, and the community had an unblemished reputation. If she wanted to stay in business, she needed to at least go through the motions of making it appear that she was taking a vested interest in the safety of her residents.

  “I don’t have the budget for it,” she finally said.

  “Cut the budget somewhere else,” Roman suggested, clearly not buying her excuse. “The biggest cost is up front for the equipment. I’m giving you a massive break on the manpower and labor.”

  “And once all this mess is sorted out, you can decide whether or not to keep agents on the ground or to stick with your own private security company and simply use the equipment and protocols we set up,” Hunter added.