by Jillian Neal
“What’s her name?” I heard our impressive bank of monitors in the control room all click on. Clearly, T, was already at work.
“Megan Mallory. She’s on the board of Homefront Heroes, but I don’t believe they were actually behind this event.”
“Yeah, I found her. Let me dig. Nothing I’m seeing looks like anything more than she’s trying to earn Girl Scout badges for charity work.”
“Time is definitely of the essence,” I reminded him.
“I’ll call you right back.”
The door reverberated under someone’s fists yet again. “Jesus, it’s six fucking o’clock in the morning. What the hell is this?” I flung open the door again praying I was not about to have to trip three elderly women to keep them from escaping.
Ryder Mathis was covered in sweat and staring back at me. “Need to talk to you,” he informed me. “Definitely think you’re gonna want to hear what I found out.”
I stepped back which he apparently took as an invitation to waltz inside my suite. He stared at Hannah like she was the last canteen in the Iraqi desert. “Damn,” he admired.
She was still on the phone and still clad in a barely there robe. Shoving him backward, I was in his face a half-second later. “Literally just thought of seven ways to kill you without even breaking a sweat,” I seethed.
Hannah’s eyes goggled when she spied our guest. She whisked back into our bedroom and shut the door.
“Sorry, man. You have seen her right? I mean…shit, she’s gorgeous.”
“Gorgeous and mine. Never forget that last part.”
“Got it.” He offered me an apologetic glance. “Did I just fuck up any chance of ever working for Tier Seven?”
“You want to work for us?” Well, that explained his helpfulness.
“Maybe.”
“After today, I probably won’t be working for them, so they might need some help.”
“I’m interested.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. What’d you come to tell me?”
“You cool with talking here?” He glanced around my suite.
“Nah, we should see if we can get a reservation at a table with the queen. Talk.”
“Geez, you’re in a mood. Somebody piss in your Cheerios or something?”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m sorry, did you come by to admire my girlfriend, insert your dick in my life, and ask me for a job, or did you have something of value to tell me?”
“Sorry for asking. After you left last night, apparently a thought crossed Watson’s mind.”
“Bet that was a long, lonely journey,” I huffed.
Ryder laughed. “That’d be a safe bet. He was rambling on about his friend who Homefront Heroes is helping with his chemo treatments. Guy’s last name is Mallory. Watson never thought to mention that to either of us.”
“Holy fuck.” Sergeant Mitch Mallory screaming in my face during Basic slammed through my consciousness again. He had the same awkward smile as his sister. I’d forgotten his name but never his face. “That guy was one of my drill sergeants.”
“Oh yeah? Mine, too. Out at Fort Jackson, right? Did he make you shovel sun off the sidewalks?”
“Nah, he made us sweep it. What kind of cancer does he have?”
“Tumors are in his brain, which obviously sucks. But it got me to thinking about all of the insanity of this whole auction. Not gonna lie to you. I’m pissed. I came down here thinking I’d get some tail not to have my ass grabbed by the felons of the female Cocoon reboot. I found Ms. Mallory at that sports bar here last night. I might’ve bought her several drinks too many and got her talking.” He held up his hands in surrender. “And then I saw her safely back to her suite and I left. I swear. After that, I did some digging. Sergeant Mallory isn’t doing well. I used a few clearance liberties, I may or may not have, and read his latest prognosis. Army docs are giving him less than six months. There’s some kind of last ditch experimental treatment she thinks can help him, but you and I both know Uncle Sam isn’t gonna pay for experiments. I’m thinking maybe she did all of this to pay for this treatment thing. I ran six fucking miles this morning, but I can’t figure out how to prove that. How is she playing Dorothy in those warped old ladies trip to Oz? It’s making me nuts.”
I almost forgave him for staring at my baby. Almost. I offered him my hand. “First of all, that famous trio and foursome work was impressive as hell. Second, when are you due up for re-enlistment?”
His gaze fell to the floor. Not a good sign. I waited. “I’m up now.”
“And?”
His eyes returned to mine. Regret and irritation fought for dominance in their depths. “And I’ve been recommended with reservation by all of my superiors.”
“I see. What would their reservations be?” The likelihood that he’d be offered another four years with that many reservations wasn’t good.
He gripped the collar on his T-shirt and used it to wipe the sweat off his face. “Uh, it said something about me failing to place commander’s intent over my individual actions.”
“That all it said?” I knew it wasn’t.
An audible breath hissed from his lungs. “Might’ve said something about a blatant disregard for authority.”
“What’d you do?”
He shook his head. “Man, we…” His explanation was sealed off by the might of his jaw.
“You know, I might’ve had a few blatant disregards for authority in my career, too.”
“Really?”
I shrugged.
“We landed deep in Boko territory in Mubi. Hiked thirty miles in pouring rain, naturally. Embrace the suck or whatever. We fucking had sights on a few of those kids they took. I could see them. Couple of the guys running the show came into view. I saw them hit one of those little girls. Watched it happen through my scope. But then higher called us off. They were right there.”
“And you took the shot.”
He gave me a single nod.
“Lucky you didn’t get your ass discharged.”
“Yeah, I know. Also, I don’t have a brother-in-law that owns a bar in L.A. I’d just been there, and I could tell your girl hadn’t.”
“What suite is Megan Mallory staying in?”
He didn’t even pause to think. “Fourteen.”
He was already registering all of the small details. Yeah, he’d make a great asset for Tier Seven. “I have to make a few phone calls, but you sure you’re willing to relocate to Lincoln? We don’t do a lot of jumping out of planes anymore.”
Relief rushed into his eyes. “Hell yeah. I’ve jumped three hundred times in the last five years. I’m good on the ground for a while. Are you serious? I could really come work with Tier Seven? I wasn’t a tier one asset or anything.”
“If you can keep your sarcasm up, stay on top of your entertainment media humor, and keep figuring shit out like you did last night, I’d say you’re a shoo-in.” I smirked. “Of course, you do have to outshoot me.”
Poor kid slumped in defeat. “Are you serious?”
I laughed. “No. No one can outshoot me.”
Hannah returned fully clothed. This time Mathis offered her a polite grin and never let his eyes drop below her chin, so he was trainable. I could work with that.
“Listen, I’ve got a thing I have to do this afternoon. Feel like catching Dorothy and the wicked witches of three-quarters of the globe?” I offered him.
“Hell yeah. But we’re not cops. How does this work?”
“Watch and learn, my friend. Watch and learn. Also, grab a quick shower. You stink.”
45
Hannah
“Pretty sure you just made his whole life.” I studied Griff looking for any sign he was nervous about seeing his father again. I saw none.
“Yeah, well, I would’ve taken the shot, too.”
“Our flight is at four.”
“Thanks for booking that. You don’t have to come with me.” His voice hollowed with his offer.
I shook my head at him
. “Of course I’m coming.”
“We have to take care of a few things first. I can’t leave Watson here to deal with the female felons of the Cocoon reboot.”
“Wow. That’s a good one. You had to dig deep for that.”
“Right? Mathis just came up with it. I’m impressed. Not gonna lie.”
“He’ll fit in very nicely at Tier Seven, and I already knew we’d take care of this before we left. Leave no man behind, right?”
“I don’t know any other way to be, baby.”
“And I don’t want you to be any other way.” Maybe Smith wouldn’t completely lose his mind when we told him about us if there was a new recruit there. I knew better, but there had to be some way to get him to remain relatively chill.
“Maybe he can take my place,” Griff choked.
“What?” Clearly, he was still unable to think straight. The news about his father had thrown him more than he was showing. “No one could ever take your place in The Sevens, Griff. Why would you say that?”
He shrugged. “Smith.”
“Will be just fine. You are not leaving Tier Seven. Not for me.”
“I’d do anything for you.”
“I know that, but you don’t have to. Once we tell my father and my brother, and they chill the fuck out about it, I’m moving to Lincoln. You have given up enough for ten lifetimes. I will not split up The Sevens.”
“You’re not moving to Lincoln. You have a whole design firm in Denver.” I ground my teeth, but another knock on the door interrupted the diatribe I was preparing.
“Grand-fucking-Central here today.” Griff swung open the door again.
Fred leaned his head in. “She’s made another two trips to the car.”
“I’m on it,” Griff vowed. “You ready?” he asked me.
“What are we doing exactly?”
“Catching some crooks and forcing a confession. What we normally do before breakfast, baby.” He winked at me like all of this was no big deal. He was tugging on a clean T-shirt when his phone rang. “It’s T,” he explained before answering. “Her brother’s a… I’m gonna go with either a Master Sergeant or a First by now and he’s sick, right?”
That cocky smirk appeared on his features as T responded. “I’m just that good. You know that.” Another pause had him shaking his head. “Fuck off, man. Call in the LVPD, but tell them to be discreet. Our con-grannies are nervous. Tell them to meet me in suite fourteen.” Griff sank his feet into his boots, bracing the phone between his shoulder and ear. “Yeah, I think I have this all figured. Betting my baby can fill in all of the details I don’t have. I’ll call you later.”
“What details do you not have?” I leapt as soon as he ended the call. “Are we seriously doing this now? What about your dad?”
Griff rolled his eyes. “Duke will still be there when I’m done with this. Trust me. The diagnosis had to be wrong. You have to have a heart for it to attack.”
His indifference crushed me. The life he’d lived, the way he’d grown up always tangled my vocal cords and shattered my heart. Griff’s mother had abandoned them when he was eleven, and Duke hadn’t handled it well. But I’d sat with the man in the waiting room of Walter Reed while Griff underwent surgery after surgery. He did love his son. He just had a terrible way of showing it. “I know he wasn’t always a great dad, but I swear he does love you.” I had to try.
His jaw clenched. I watched his eyes. He debated something. “Baby, just because they’re your parents doesn’t mean they’re…decent people. Okay? Making a kid doesn’t automatically make you a good human being. Trust me.” So, this was no longer about Duke. This was about my father. Before I could press him for more information, he was handing me my kicks and strapping his kit to his thigh. The pistol went back in his jeans.
I slipped my shoes on and followed him out into the corridor.
“Had you ever worked with Megan before on any other fundraisers for Homefront? Was she around before this event?”
We made our way past Fred and down the hallway the opposite direction of Ms. Rutherford’s suite.
“She’s been interested in moving to a higher position on the board for a while. That’s why I can’t believe she turned over that document of donors. I’ve seen her before at events. We made small talk but nothing in-depth. Ms. Donohue told me she was interested in becoming the chairman at a golf tournament I went to last April. She seemed annoyed with Ms. Mallory, but I didn’t really think much of it.”
He pounded on the door to suite fourteen. “And you said the board always attends events right?”
“Yeah, I noticed right off that none of them were there. Every golf tournament, dinner, gala, everything. The whole board is always there, except for this one.”
“When she first saw you here and asked you about the auction, was she alone?”
I considered that as he knocked again. “I don’t know if she was traveling alone, but she was by herself when she approached me.”
Another knock but still no answer. My empty stomach turned. Where was she at six-thirty in the morning? Griff lifted the flap on his kit and pulled out the same tool he’d used to break into Ms. Rutherford’s suite.
Ryder came out of his room, freshly showered. He glanced up and down the hallway. “Are you seriously breaking into her suite?” He was going to need a little more training. I almost felt bad for him having to endure Griff and my brother for the rest of his life. Their bromance was legendary. I said another prayer that Smith wouldn’t be too difficult when we made our confession.
“Why don’t you call the fucking Pentagon?” Griff growled. “Jesus. Keep your trap shut.” With that, the lock on Ms. Mallory’s suite clicked, and he pushed the door open.
“What if she’s just in the bathroom or something?” I fussed as I followed the boys inside.
“Then she needs to zip it up and get out here. I don’t have all morning,” Griff huffed. “Megan, this is Griff Haywood,” bellowed from him. “LVPD is on their way.” He stood outside the master bedroom door. “Come out, or I’m coming in.”
“If I get this job promise to never tell him I said this, but he’s supremely badass. Like maximum badassery,” Ryder whispered as Griff took a step back and kicked the bedroom door open with his bad leg.
I laughed. “Trust me, he already knows.”
The bedroom and bathroom were both empty. “Shit.” Griff took off at a sprint. Ryder and I raced after him. Two men in police uniforms were escorted down the locked corridor by hotel staff. “Follow me,” Griff ordered.
“They told us suite fourteen,” one of the men argued.
“They lied.”
The officers followed. With the magnetic lock pick still in his hand, Griff opened Victoria Rutherford’s door. The cops exchanged a concerned glance.
“They may be holding a woman hostage in there. Did you really want him to wait on you guys to get approval on that?” Ryder asked. Okay, he’d survive Smith and Griff. I had no doubts.
The cops shrugged and followed Griff into the suite. Megan Mallory stared at us like we’d waltzed in doing the tango naked. Victoria and Edith were headed out the back door.
“Stop right there,” one of the cops ordered.
“How did you get in here?” Megan gasped.
“Sit down,” Griff ordered. Two other cops approached from the pool area trapping Victoria and Edith. They escorted them back in the suite. Gladys appeared from one of the bedrooms loaded down with packages from stores on The Strip.
“What is going on?” Megan asked.
“I’ve got warrants on these three. Not sure about you, ma’am,” one of the officers explained.
“Can I have like five minutes to put all of this together? It’s gonna bug the piss out of me if I don’t get to,” Griff asked.
“Sure.” The officers all shrugged.
46
Griff
I popped the crick out of my neck and grinned. I had a thing for catching bad guys. Always made me smile, even if t
hey happened to be eighty-year-old women. “Let’s see how right I am. First off, you three,” I gestured to the Rutherford gang. “You lead everyone to believe that you’re black widows, right? There’s no way to prove that, and it’s a great explanation for why you’re so wealthy. You make jokes about killing off your nonexistent husbands, so no one will question how you afford all of the gaudy-ass shit you possess. In reality, you make your fortunes stealing people’s identities. Credit cards, checking accounts, whatever you can get your hands on. You book suites in hotels on The Strip using someone else’s card then you have everything you want to purchase charged back to your rooms, right?”
The women offered me hateful glares. That was probably all of the confession I was going to get. “Doesn’t matter. You don’t have to answer me. They have outstanding warrants on all of you. But you,” I turned to Ms. Mallory, “You were just a fly they webbed, weren’t you? No one who comes up with ten pages of rules for an event does it for no real reason. The only thing I haven’t figure out yet is if you approached them about the auction or if they approached you.”
“I didn’t know they did that,” Megan pled. “I had no idea. They were here at the hotel when I came down to check it out for the auction. They said if I would let them attend the event they’d…”
“Pay for the medical transport for your brother, right? Either that or they’d pay for the flight and the treatment,” I continued to fill in the blanks.
“They said they’d pay for the flight, and that they’d help me with the treatments depending on the auction.” A terrified shiver coursed through her as she rang her hands. “My brother needs the treatments. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Hannah shook her head. “What did you promise them you would do in exchange for their help, Ms. Mallory?”
“Nothing, I swear. I just said that I’d get our biggest donors there. I thought they wanted to attend an A-list event and to be sure they won whoever they wanted. I didn’t know…”