Remember Love: Saints Protection & Investigations

by Maryann Jordan

  Blaise glanced down at the finger jabbing his chest and grinned. Chuck and Trudi might run the bar with a bit of surly, down home, no frills manner…but they had two of the biggest hearts he knew. Well, besides the Saints and their women!

  “We’re gonna work on it right now,” Blaise replied, snagging the disk off the counter and, with a kiss to the top of Trudi’s hair, he headed back out the door. Stepping around the delivery truck, he glanced about, his mind replaying the events of last night. Wherever you are, Mystery Lady, I’m going to find you. And whatever it is you need…I want to help you get it.

  *

  Pulling into Jack’s driveway after passing through the security gate, Blaise drove to the front of the house. There was a rear entrance to the underground compound, but the Saints always parked in the front and entered through the front door. Jack wasn’t just a boss—he was a friend. All of the Saints were.

  Entering the large, luxury log cabin, he immediately moved to the kitchen bar where Jack’s wife, Bethany, was just pulling out a large cobbler. Her baked treats were one of the reasons no one was ever late to meetings. Taking a plate from her with a wink and sincere thanks, he turned and appreciated the view out of the floor to ceiling windows on the other side of the open space of the living room. The two story stone fireplace stood as a sentinel between the windows. The backdrop of the Blue Ridge Mountains completed the majestic view.

  “It never gets old, does it?” Bethany asked.

  Jerking his head around, he smiled. “No, this place is really great.”

  “But not for you?” she added, with a knowing grin.

  Chuckling, he dropped his head. “No, you’re right about that. I’m afraid I can’t live without my little house full of animals.”

  She walked by, touching his arm as she moved passed. “You have a good soul, Blaise.” As she disappeared down the hall, she called out over her shoulder, “Don’t worry. You’ll find her.”

  Jolted out of his musings, he jogged down the stairs to the conference room—the hub of the Saint’s compound. The compound consisted of a spacious conference room, complete with computer equipment, security monitoring screens for the security aspect of the business, secure video conferencing equipment used for the many virtual meetings with government officials, and Luke’s station where he managed to hack into most systems needed. Other rooms were filled with ammunition, weapons, safety equipment, and just about anything else they might need. A locker room, complete with bunk beds, was in another area for times when they worked around the clock at the compound.

  Luke, already on his second cup of coffee, held his hand out, obviously sure that Blaise would be bringing the security tapes from Chuck’s. Accepting it, he immediately popped it into one of his computers.

  Marc plopped down in a chair, staring at the empty plate in his hand. Running his fingers through his hair, he complained, “Boss, I hate to sound ungrateful, but do you think Bethany could make bigger cobblers? I gobbled this up in no time.”

  Jack laughed, saying, “Maybe you should eat more breakfast before you come!”

  “I do, but it’s not nearly as good as what she bakes!” Turning to see Monty coming into the room, Marc added, “Hey, you’re engaged to the famous cupcake baker. How come you don’t come in with some of her goodies when we meet?”

  The quiet-natured, former FBI agent looked at him as one would a petulant child. “Marc, as big as you are, you’d eat up all her profits.”

  Blaise slapped his friend on the back as he sat down next to him. “Looks like you’re on your own, buddy.”

  Cam and Bart came in next, the two best friends good-naturedly bantering amongst themselves.

  “Bartholomew is a perfectly good name. I can’t understand why you wouldn’t name your kid after me!”

  Cam rolled his eyes, answering, “You know my parents. And Miriam’s. Both sets are about as traditional as they come. If it’s a boy, he’ll be named after our fathers.”

  Jude, just polishing off his treat, grinned. “But which father’s name will be first?” Chad, still eating, just grinned. He and his wife had already named their unborn daughter and he was glad it was not a boy.

  Cam’s face fell as he sat down. Appearing disconcerted, he admitted, “We don’t have a decision yet and it’ll be a fuckin’ battle no matter which one we choose.”

  “All the more reason to name him after me!” Bart insisted.

  “Got her!” Luke called out, instantly sobering the group as Blaise jumped up and peered over Luke’s shoulder.

  “I’ll send it to the screen,” Luke said, projecting the image on the large white board on the wall.

  Blaise continued to stand as he watched the bar video from the previous night. Luke had started with the inside views. There she is! The group watched as she walked in, unassumingly, looking around before quickly taking the bar stool at the very end. It was obvious her eyes continued to dart around at first. “She’s checking out the place. She appears uncomfortable,” Blaise said.

  Her eyes then landed on the bowl of peanuts in front of her. She slid her hand out hesitantly, snatching a few and bringing them in front of her. Shelling them, she ate a few and stuck others into her jacket pocket.

  Blaise could not take his eyes off her large ones, her flawless face a mask of uncertainty. Her fingers daintily worked at the peanuts.

  They watched as Chuck brought her a glass of water, saying nothing. Her large eyes jumped up to his in appreciation and it appeared she thanked him.

  “Chuck said she had been in there twice before. Both times trying to not be seen, but obviously hungry. She eats peanuts and he gives her water,” Blaise reported. “The first night, Trudi wasn’t there, but the next time she was. Chuck said that when Trudi approached to offer food, Mystery Lady ran.”

  “Mystery Lady?” Marc asked, lifting his eyebrow in question.

  Blushing, Blaise admitted, “Yeah, I guess that’s how I’ve been thinking of her.”

  The other Saints grinned silently but continued to watch hawk-like at the screen in hopes of helping to identify Blaise’s Mystery Lady.

  They observed as Chuck set the plate of food in front of her. She appeared frightened, but Chuck just nodded and walked away. Her head twisted around to see if anyone was watching and then she picked up one of the chicken wings, biting into the meat.

  Blaise’s heart squeezed when he saw the look of ecstasy on her face as she tasted the savory goodness. Fuck, when was the last time she had a decent meal? I have got to find her.

  “You got that right, brother,” Marc said, the other Saints following in agreement.

  Jerking his head toward them, Blaise realized he had spoken his thoughts aloud. Not embarrassed, he gazed back to the screen. The Saints watched as she carefully wrapped up the extra meat into a napkin and slid off the stool, slipping unnoticed out the front door.

  “Go to the back of the bar camera angle,” Blaise said, but Luke was already on it. He projected the images from the camera attached to the back of the bar that included the delivery area as well as the garbage dumpster.

  “There she is,” Jude announced to no one in particular.

  Blaise’s gaze moved across the men in the room, finding each one entranced with the video…or perhaps with the woman in the video.

  They saw her step around the corner, an intent expression on her face. Suddenly, from behind the dumpster, came the large German Shepherd trotting over to her. Nuzzling her hand, it sat at her feet. She bent, offering it the rest of her food. As the dog ate, she moved to the dumpster and leaned over, plucking out what appeared to be some bread and other unidentifiable food.

  The quiet room resounded with sounds of fucks, holy hells, damns, and other curses as the men watched the woman gathering food from a dumpster.

  Jack, showing more emotion than normal, growled, “I know you described this last night, but it’s a fuck-of-a-lot more potent seeing it.”

  The video continued as they watched Blaise on the ca
mera with her and their interaction. As he re-entered the building, she grabbed the food and, with the dog at her side, ran off into the night.

  Luke stopped the camera and the group continued sitting in silence for a moment, none quite sure what to say.

  “Right,” Jack said, slapping his hand down on the table. His eyes lifted and met Blaise’s. “We’ve got several jobs the others are working on now, but no large-scale mission that requires everyone’s participation.” Pinning Marc with his gaze, he said, “We’ve got some security flights I’ll be sending you on later in the summer. Chad…you, Bart, and Monty will continue assisting the FBI on the ISIS cells from our last major mission.”

  Receiving nods from those men, he turned his gaze back to Blaise. “If you want to utilize us to assist this woman, I’ll back you.”

  “Boss, I gotta be clear about something,” Blaise said tentatively. “I don’t mind doing this alone. I have no idea who this woman is or what she’s running from. But there’s no way she’d be able to afford the Saints for our assistance.”

  Shaking his head, Jack declared, “Look around. We’re sitting in a state of the art security and investigation compound. Got lucrative contracts from government agencies and corporations. If we can’t utilize some of our time and resources to aid someone in trouble, then we’re not the kind of men I think we are.”

  Grinning as he breathed a sigh of relief, Blaise observed the nods from every man in the room. “Okay, then. I’ll start working with Luke to see if we can get an ID from her image.”

  Chapter 4

  Three hours later, Luke and Blaise looked at each other in frustration. “The problem is that in trying not to draw too much attention to herself, she keeps her head down and barely looks up. The closest image is when she looks up in surprise at Chuck when he sets the food down, but that is only a partial image with her body facing almost away from the camera.”

  Blaise leaned back in his chair, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension. They had compared the data to missing persons, domestic violence complaints from police files, runaways going back almost five years, and even the FBI database.

  Blaise had even reached out to veterinarians in the state, sending a mass email inquiring about a woman bringing in a German Shepherd who may have been injured. Several had emailed back with possibilities, but in checking them out, none of them were the Mystery Lady.

  “Well, we’ve collected data on a number of possible hits, so we can start going through them one at a time,” Luke said. “Why don’t we get started again after lunch?”

  Blaise nodded in agreement and headed out of the compound. He bypassed the fast food chains and headed home instead, taking the opportunity to check on his animals. Taking his sandwich with him in his jeep after making his rounds petting his menagerie, he turned toward Chuck’s instead of heading straight back to Jack’s.

  Walking in, he caught Chuck’s head jerk and plopped down at the bar.

  “I see from your expression, you ain’t found her yet.”

  “Not yet, but we’re working on it. Thanks for the video disk. Luke’s processing it to see if we can figure anything out.”

  Chuck lifted his eyebrow, staring at his long-time customer. “This woman’s got a hold on you, don’t she?”

  Shaking his head, Blaise replied, “I just know she needs help, Chuck. Can’t explain it, but now that I’ve seen her, I want to help…in any way I can. I’d like to—”

  “Thank God you’re here!” Trudi screamed as she came running into the bar, her face flush with excitement. “I saw her!”

  “Where?” Blaise shouted, jumping from his seat and turning to face Trudi, who was still trying to catch her breath.

  “I saw her crossing between some buildings and it looked like she might be heading to the park on the campus side of town,” she panted. “I was stuck in traffic and couldn’t get turned around. Then I didn’t have your cell phone number but thought maybe Chuck would know how to get hold of you guys.”

  She barely finished before Blaise bolted from the establishment, buckling only as his jeep peeled out of the parking lot. Placing a call to Luke he promised he would be careful, but would try to get fingerprints, even if by subterfuge. Jesus, that sounds creepy, even to my ears. But if she’s in trouble, it’d be nice to at least know who I’m trying to help. I could find her house…or job…or something.

  Heart pounding, he drove to the large park in Charlestown, near the campus. The sunshine had brought out the families and college students, and quite a few dog walkers. A perfect place for her to blend in for a while.

  Driving by the perimeter of the park for a few minutes he finally realized he did not have a clear enough view of the acreage. Parking, he began to walk swiftly along the sidewalks meandering throughout the park. Forcing himself to slow down so as to not draw attention, he continued to search.

  Every single, dark-haired woman caught his gaze, quickly dismissed as soon as he could ascertain they were not who he sought. So caught up in his surveillance, he missed the disappointed expressions on several women he walked by, his gaze looking right through them.

  His eyes darted to every dog chasing balls, catching Frisbees, or just walking along with their masters. He made his way past the picnics and the college students lounging in the sun. Basketball courts were on one side with tennis courts on another. A large, flat area, big enough for a soccer game, had children running around kicking balls.

  Turning around and around, he grew frustrated when there was no sign of her. How big is this place? He had driven by it many times but had never taken the opportunity to walk around. The enormity of the park when trying to find one woman was overwhelming, especially if that woman did not want to be found.

  Privacy…she’d be looking for somewhere private. Seeing a small pond in the distance, he headed toward it, noting benches along the path and into the trees bordering two sides of the water.

  He was almost two-thirds around the pond when a deep bark sounded from the edge of the woods. His gaze jerked quickly to the sound and he saw a German Shepherd bounding toward a bench, partially hidden in the shadows of the trees. A few more steps and he could see…her. His Mystery Lady.

  He let out a breath he did not realize he had been holding. She did not see him, but he could not take his eyes off her. Her hair, pulled back into a braid hanging over her shoulder, looked like it had been combed then braided. Still wearing the oversized jacket, on a warm day, he wondered now if it was to give her a place to put food if she came across it. His suspicions were confirmed when she reached into her pocket and pulled out a treat for the dog as it bounded back to her.

  Blaise, rooted to the sidewalk, stared at her large eyes, sparkling in the daylight as her head was thrown back in laughter before she bent forward, grabbing the dog’s furry face in her hands and kissing its nose. Squatting, she wrapped her arms around the animal, both creatures sharing a moment of unadulterated love. Beautiful. And his heart squeezed once more.

  Suddenly, the dog turned toward him and growled, planting its body protectively in front of the Mystery Lady once more. He watched as her gaze jerked to his and her body readied for flight.

  “No, no,” Blaise begged, lifting his hands upwards. “Please don’t go, Miss. I only want to help. You and your dog. Please.”

  She stood, her body tense, staring at the man she recognized from the previous night at the bar. Warily, she watched as he once again kept his distance, his hands up. “What do you want? Have you been following me?” she asked, fear evident in her voice.

  “I just want to help.”

  Licking her dry lips, she kept her fingers lightly on Gypsy’s fur, both calming the growling dog and calming herself.

  “I don’t want to frighten you,” he said. “If you want, I can sit on the ground, not too close to you.”

  She stared a moment, uncertain of his intentions. Watching as he sat down cross-legged about ten feet away, she noted he kept his hands on his knees where she could see
them. Her head lifted in pride, although her eyes shifted nervously. “Why do you think I need help?”

  Shaking his head, he said, “Miss, I’m sure you were hungry last night.” His eyes dropped to the dog, no longer growling, but watching him with the same wariness as his mistress. “And no one, not even a dog, should have to eat from a trash can.”

  A flash of embarrassment crossed her face, quickly replaced by irritation. “I…I do what I have to do.”

  “I’d like to check out your dog,” Blaise continued. “I’m a veterinarian. What’s its name?”

  The woman was quiet for a long moment and he thought she was not going to answer him. He waited patiently, his gaze moving between the beautiful woman and the dog, who had now relaxed its stance.

  Finally, she spoke, softly saying, “Gypsy. Her name is Gypsy.”

  “Gypsy,” he repeated with a smile, thinking of the similarity between the dog and the woman. “That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful dog.” He held out his hand, palm up, and waited.

  The woman nudged Gypsy and the dog trotted over to Blaise, immediately sniffing him, allowing him to run his expert hands over the dog’s body.

  No broken bones, hips good, teeth good. Probably about three years old. Coat in decent condition. Glancing back up to the woman, he wished that she would accept his offer of assistance.

  Continuing to ruffle the dog’s fur, he said, “She’s a beauty, Miss, that’s for sure. Have you had her since she was a puppy?”

  The change in the woman’s breathing was instant and Blaise was aware his question sent her into anxiety, but had no idea why.

  “Gypsy,” she called sharply, “we have to go.”

  The dog immediately trotted over to her and Blaise stood slowly. “Hey, I’m not trying to cause a problem. Please let me help. If nothing else, let me provide some food for both of you.”