The Maxwell Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Alexander, S. B.

  “I’m at Kade’s. I’m not hurt. Kelton was there with me when I blacked out.” I hoped I sounded confident and strong. He was another person who carried the weight of an army of men on his shoulders. “Do you think the break-in has anything to do with what Detective Fisher told us?”

  “I don’t know. The doors are about to close. We’ll talk when I get home. I love you.”

  “Ditto.”

  The line went dead.

  I didn’t have Detective Fisher’s card with me. Otherwise I’d call him and let him know about the break-in. I knew he couldn’t do anything from three thousand miles away, but I wanted to pick his brain about the lead he was working on and keep my mind focused on the future—not thinking of a dark house and blackouts.

  I curled up and thought about what Dad could possibly have that was so valuable. I kept coming up with nothing. My dad made money from his nightclubs and record label. Maybe he owed a client, and they were looking for money. Or maybe one of his clients knew Dad kept valuables and wanted to hold those over Dad’s head until he paid.

  After a restless night, I woke up in a heap of sweat with my clothes sticking to me. When I’d finally dozed off, I had one of my recurring dreams. Anytime something bothered me, I found I dreamed Kade and I were sitting on the ball field in a thunderstorm. Neither of us spoke. The dream had been repeating over and over for the past several months without change until last night when words fell from Kade’s lips. Words that were on a constant loop in my head when I awoke: “Storms will roll in, the sky will grow darker, the clouds will release their tears, but through the thunder, the lightning, the rain, the sleet, and the snow, the world will right itself.” I didn’t understand what it meant, although I’d take that scene over any nightmare.

  I wrote Kade a note letting him know I was headed to my house to change. I didn’t have any clean clothes, and I didn’t want to shower at Kade’s then slip back into sweaty underwear. I snatched his keys then slipped out around six a.m., careful not to wake anyone. Kade said there was a cop at my house. So this was my chance to find out how I’d react without Kade. I couldn’t have him babying me every time I was faced with a challenge. Besides, he needed rest.

  As I drove home, twilight waned and dawn set in. The streets of Ashford were dead. Rolling into my driveway, I concentrated on my breathing. With every intake of air, the sky grew lighter and my pulse slowed. A police car was parked in front of one of the garage doors. The cop got out of his car. I grabbed my bag and hopped out of the truck.

  “Ma’am, do you live here?” a baby-faced man asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  We went through the normal identification process. Once he was satisfied, he said, “I’m Officer Yancey. I’ll go in with you. But the power is still off.”

  Oh, damn. I’d forgotten. Kade had mentioned someone had cut the power line. No shower. I’d get my clothes then head back to Kade’s.

  My phone rang. I retrieved it from the front of my backpack. “Hey, I’m just getting clean clothes. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “You should’ve waited for me,” Kade said in a sleepy voice. “I’ll get dressed and—”

  “No, I won’t be long. The officer is here with me. I’ll be fine. Seriously, it’s not dark.” The sky was turning a brighter blue.

  The sound of an engine disrupted the morning quiet of the neighborhood. Officer Yancey and I turned. A black SUV rolled past my house. I didn’t recognize it. I lived on a street with a cul-de-sac, and none of the houses surrounding mine owned a black SUV. My pulse sped up.

  “Lace, are you still there?” Kade’s voice rose. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m good. I promise. I’ll be back within the hour.” Then I hung up before he protested. If I knew Kade, he’d be here within five minutes, even though we lived about twenty minutes apart.

  The black SUV came back and stopped at the edge of the driveway. A faint buzzing started in my head. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go into the house. I eyed Officer Yancey. He had his hand poised to retrieve his gun at a moment’s notice.

  The driver rolled down his window. “Yancey, everything okay?” a black man asked. “Wayland wanted me to check on things.”

  Wayland? Then I remembered Kade telling me the officer on duty last night was Mark Wayland’s dad. I sighed.

  “We’re cool,” Yancey said, then he turned to me. “One of our detectives.”

  My lungs expanded.

  “Radio if you need anything,” the man said before driving away.

  I started for the house then hesitated, not sure I was ready to see the damage. I knew I wouldn’t find any dead bodies. I could do this. It was just a messy house.

  Officer Yancey was being patient behind me. He touched my arm lightly. “Why don’t you let me sweep it real quick.”

  Not a bad idea. As the officer went in ahead of me, I waited outside for a minute before I peeked in. The couch in the front living room was sliced, its stuffing poking out. I hedged back. It’s just stuffing. Yeah, but the creep had a knife. He’s not in the house. Slowly, I stepped over the threshold and gave the front living room a once-over. The furniture was completely torn to pieces. Shuffling deeper into the room, I found the corner bookcase was knocked over, the contents of the shelves scattered on the floor.

  The swishing sound of Officer Yancey’s gait kept me in the present. I quickly checked the rooms downstairs. The house was freezing, and so was I. The TV and the electronics on the entertainment center were untouched, although the DVDs and books that had been on the shelves covered the floor. The kitchen had fared better than the other two rooms.

  “It’s all clear,” Yancey’s voice boomed from above.

  A shiver crept up my spine as I picked my way down the hall. The sunroom was undisturbed, but there wasn’t much in there except wicker furniture. In Dad’s office the couch cushions were sliced in half. File folders, pens, a calculator, the house phone, and the music awards he cherished littered the brown carpet. Suddenly, I was transported back to the LAPD and Detective Fisher’s words: “Whoever invaded your home was after something specific.”

  I was standing in the office doorway when heavy footfalls scuffed the hall floor.

  “Are you okay, Ms. Robinson?” Yancey asked. “The upstairs wasn’t touched. They might’ve heard your vehicle last night and taken off.”

  My body felt numb as my mind worked to figure out what my dad had that those creeps wanted. It could be that some random person had broken in. But if that were the case, then the TVs and other electronics would’ve been stolen.

  “Do you have any idea what they wanted?” Yancey asked.

  “No clue.” I diverted my gaze out the French doors beyond the desk. The snow was melting, giving way to the brown of the wooded lot. “Maybe they found it. Maybe that’s why the upstairs isn’t trashed.” A ray of hope coursed through me.

  Yancey’s radio crackled, and a voice blared through it.

  “I’ll be out front,” he said before he answered the radio call.

  I wandered through the sea of office items, my gaze scanning the floor. I started snapping pictures with my phone to send to Detective Fisher so he could see the mess. I squatted down at a pile of folders. Eko Records’ contracts were scattered about with pictures of bands Dad had signed. I picked up each one as though I was playing a game of Go Fish, though I knew I wouldn’t find a matching hand. Then I came across one folder with a lone picture of a handsome man with gray hair and a gray beard. I studied it. Why did he look oddly familiar?

  Chapter 15

  Kade

  Knowing Lacey had slept in my room last night while I slept on the couch sucked. She did need rest, and I knew sleeping with her we wouldn’t get any. When we’d finally gotten back from her house, I’d told my father about the break-in. I was thankful he was ho
me in case Lacey needed to talk with a doctor, even though she always came out of her blackouts like she had awakened from a restful sleep. On the other hand, my brother had been rattled when we got back to the house. So, I’d asked my father if he could check on Kelton. Man, I understood what he was going through. I didn’t care how many times I’d seen Lacey black out or panic, a pain always gripped my chest so tight I couldn’t breathe.

  My phone rang early that morning. Hunt called to tell me Lacey was on her way to her house. I’d filled him in last night after I’d spoken to her father. Knowing Hunt and Pitt’s men were tailing Lacey, I did feel a sense of calm wash over me.

  I sent a text to Wes asking him when I’d be tutoring Chloe. His reply said Friday this week. I had three days to figure out how to tell Lacey.

  I was drying off after my shower, thinking how to begin the conversation with Lacey’s father, when my own father called my name. “Kade, are you in here?” he asked.

  “I’ll be out in sec.” I finished toweling off and wrapped the terrycloth around my waist before walking into my room.

  “Hey, son.” He was staring at a picture of Karen on my dresser. “How’s Lacey this morning?”

  “Good. She went home to get some clothes.” I pulled on jeans then slipped on a Mötley Crüe T-shirt.

  “Is that wise, letting her go alone? Will she panic?” He studied me.

  Like I could stop her. “I don’t think so. It’s daylight. And there’s a cop there with her.”

  “Other than last night, what else is bothering you? I noticed you weren’t yourself when you were visiting your mother.”

  I combed a hand through my wet hair. “Do you think people listen to me?” My father and I had a great relationship. I always valued his advice, and on family issues, he always valued mine. Maybe that was why I always felt older than eighteen.

  He studied me as I rested a shoulder against the doorjamb of my bedroom. “Does this have anything to do with Lacey or why Kelton’s face looks like he collided with a wall?” He tucked his hands into his tailored suit pants.

  “Kelton was ambushed by Seever and Sullivan. Hunt and I intervened, but not soon enough. You know Kelton will get his punches in when he’s being attacked. Besides, Seever deserved it.”

  He gave me one of his fatherly looks that said no one deserves to be beaten. Then his features softened. “Son, people will listen to what they want to hear. However, in order for someone to hear you, you have to know what appeals to them. And you seem to have a knack for finding that one thread that hits a nerve in a person, whether it’s conscious or unconscious.”

  I went to sit on my bed. “The LAPD speculate that Mr. Robinson has something of value that someone wants. The problem is Mr. Robinson, his son, and Lacey don’t know what or who that is. I want to help. I just don’t know how. And after last night, I’m terrified for Lacey.”

  “Hunt’s brother works for the Guardian. Ask him to put some men on Lacey. Her father works nights, right? So, in the meantime, she can stay here. Or what about their former housekeeper, Mary? Is she still living with them?”

  “She’s away at the moment.”

  “I’ll talk to Mr. Robinson and clear it with him for Lacey to spend her nights here. But, son, if a person doesn’t know what people are after, it’s hard to resolve the situation. I’m sure the LAPD is doing everything they can on the case.” The bed dipped as he eased down next to me.

  “What if I knew something about her family that she doesn’t, and her father does? Do I let him tell her or do I? She hates when I keep things from her. But you’ve always taught us that we shouldn’t come in between family.”

  “Is it life or death if you don’t tell her?”

  I had bodyguards on her now. She wouldn’t die if I didn’t tell her about her father and his connection to the Pitt family. I didn’t know Mr. Robinson’s connection to Lorenzino. “I can’t be sure. I don’t think so.”

  “Do you trust the person who told you? As I’ve always said, make sure your facts are straight before you share information. I’ve seen soldiers get hurt and some die when we didn’t get our intel validated. I’m not saying you’re at war with Lacey. Feelings are fragile, and with her PTSD, I want you to tread carefully.” He unfolded himself.

  He was trying to tell me something without scaring me, and I knew what it was. I’d done my research when I found out Lacey had PTSD. She wasn’t suicidal. When I first met her, she did have a tendency to outbursts of anger. She didn’t trust easily, partly as a result of her former cheating boyfriend. Knowing all that, I was a pinhead for lying to her. Still, I didn’t know how to get around treading carefully without triggering any symptoms. I realized in that moment that I could empathize with her old man. He was probably waging his own internal war about what to tell his daughter, which neither Pitt nor Wes understood.

  “On another note. Your mom expressed interest in coming home. I’m thinking maybe for just one night might be a good idea. I want to see how she responds.”

  My heart nearly exploded with excitement. Having my mom home with us as a family again was a dream of mine.

  “That’s great news.” I smiled like a little boy who’d just gotten his first Tonka truck. I hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. Then I lost my smile. “When I was with her, she wasn’t herself.”

  “I know. A change of scenery might help. I was thinking that she could come to Kelton and Kross’s first baseball game. You know how she loved watching you boys play ball.” He relaxed his shoulders. Then he patted me on the back. “I hope to have your mom home permanently one day.”

  “I hope so, too. Do you think Mom will like Lacey?” Another one of my wishes I prayed for. I wanted Mom to see the beauty in Lacey.

  “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” He smiled, reminding me of my brothers.

  My father and I never talked about women or love. Not after he’d explained the birds and the bees to all us boys. His only involvement in our dating relationships was to ensure we went to our annual appointments to get tested.

  “I am.”

  He had one of those expressions that said it’s puppy love.

  “It’s not just first love either.” I’d dated several women. Not one of them gave me the rush or the tingles or made my insides turn upside down in a good way like Lacey did. “I can’t imagine my future without her.”

  His grin grew wider as though he was remembering when he’d fallen in love with Mom. “She’s a good girl, son. She’s good for you, and I’m happy that you found someone.” His smile vanished. “Protect her. Don’t suffocate her. I also know how possessive all you boys are. That’s not a bad thing in the least. Just make sure you know when to back off, and when not to. She’s a strong girl on the outside, but she is extremely fragile on the inside.”

  “She won’t let me suffocate her.” Lacey could put me in my place in a heartbeat. Hell, she had a time or two already. “Oh, one more thing, Dad. I’ll talk to Mr. Robinson about Lacey staying with us while he works nights. If he has any questions, I’ll tell him to call you.”

  “Very well. I love you, son. I need to run. I may be late tonight.” He left me with his wisdom.

  I barely had a minute to process our conversation before Lacey shuffled in, rosy cheeked and red nosed, with mussed hair and a dazed look in her eyes. She cozied up to me. I wrapped my arms around her, rested my chin on her head, and closed my eyes. My world was complete, even if only for a moment.

  Mr. Robinson was due to arrive at Logan around eight a.m. If rush hour traffic was flowing smoothly, then he should be at the house around ten thirty. Lacey was anxious to be home when her father got there, which put a wrinkle in my plan to talk to Mr. Robinson alone. While she showered, I asked Kross if he would meet me there. Somehow he could distract Lacey so I could get a minute alone with her old man, and if things got
out of control between Mr. Robinson and me, I would have Kross available to intervene.

  Silence carried us most of the way to her house. She worried her bottom lip.

  “A penny for your thoughts.”

  “I found a picture this morning in my dad’s office. It’s been bugging me.” She lifted her phone from her lap, tapped the screen, and showed me a picture of Lorenzino.

  Given what she’d been through last night, I was stunned that her mind was firing well enough to spot a picture that was crucial to the problem we were facing.

  “I sent this to Detective Fisher. I’m waiting for him to reply or call me. It was odd that this picture was in a folder among all the other folders that had Eko Records contracts in them. The folder with this picture in it didn’t. What if my dad owes someone money? And they’ll do anything to get it? He could’ve angered the wrong people. This guy may be someone’s manager.”

  I hadn’t thought about that. Harrison Lorenzino could own a band or two and had a contract deal go bad. “It’s possible.” In today’s world though, people didn’t keep cash hidden in mattresses. If Mr. Robinson owed money, then I would’ve suspected a ransom deal or some other kind of intimidation, not someone tearing up a house to find money.

  By the time we got to her house, the power company technician was packing up his truck. The cop on duty was talking to him. Kross parked behind me.

  “Ma’am,” the cop said to Lacey. “Power should be on. Make sure you get the lock on that front door fixed. When your father gets home, have him contact us if you find anything missing.”

  “Thank you for all your help, Officer Yancey,” she said.

  The cop and the technician left the three of us standing in her driveway. We trekked down the path and into the house.