by Cat Johnson
“If you slow down a little, I'll be able to talk.”
“You seem to have no trouble bitching at me, but all right.” Zane slowed a bit. “Better?”
Brent matched his pace. “Yes, thank you.”
Zane thought he heard a mumbled bastard follow that less than sincere apology. It made him smile. Torturing desk jockeys was too easy.
“So you know about my family history. With Aunt Patty.” Brent shot him a sideways glance.
“I do.”
Everybody did. Patricia Hearst wasn't just famous, she was infamous.
The granddaughter of publisher William Randolph Hearst kidnapped in the seventies by a small terrorist group. In a classic case of Stockholm syndrome, she became sympathetic to her captors. Even joined them in some pretty illegal activities. After she was found and liberated, she was convicted for the bank robbery she'd participated in during her nearly two years with the group.
She never did time but the story continued to haunt the family, as evidenced by Brent's pained expression now.
“Is Patty in trouble?” Zane asked.
She had to be up there in years now if she was in college in the early seventies when she'd been kidnapped. Too old to be getting into trouble that would require Brent's intervention, he would think.
“No. It's not her. It's my cousin.” Brent answered between puffs of breath. Zane took the speed down another notch and waited for him to continue. “I'm afraid she might be inadvertently getting involved in something. If the media gets a whiff of it, they're going to drag up the family's past all over again.”
He was right. They would. And they'd enjoy doing it too.
“Yup,” Zane agreed. “So, what is she involved with?”
“Maybe nothing. And maybe something bad.”
That narrowed it right down. “All right. Can you be more specific?” In the interest of getting Brent to actually give him some useful information, Zane stopped running.
He moved off the path and onto the side so the other joggers could pass. Brent followed him, bending over and bracing his hands on his knees.
Zane gave the man a moment to catch his breath before making him talk, but he wasn't going to let him off the hook completely. “You really need to get out from behind that desk of yours once in a while. Take a walk around the block or something.”
The look Brent sent him was not kind. “I go to the gym every damn day.”
“To do what? Sit at the smoothie bar?” Zane chuckled.
“No, I run for half an hour on the treadmill first . . . then I get a smoothie.”
Zane shook his head that he'd guessed correctly. After working out on base or at whatever makeshift gym they managed to throw together while deployed, he had no patience for what passed for civilian gyms nowadays. “But seriously, the treadmill is not the same as pounding the pavement outdoors.”
“Apparently.” Brent finally managed to stand upright.
“Now that you can breathe again, you wanna tell me what you think your cousin is into and what evidence you have? Which cousin is it, anyway?” There were a lot of them, if Zane remembered correctly.
“Lizzie.”
Zane would have to look into her online later.
For now he listened as Brent continued, “She's spending a lot of time with this guy online. None of us have ever met him. Hell, as far as I know she's never met him in person. Now she's looking into liquidating some of her assets to travel and I have a feeling he had something to do with it. The whole situation is setting off my warning bells.”
It was setting off Zane's warning bells too.
A pretty young heiress sporting a last name like Hearst was no doubt a prime target for online predators. Most likely the guy—or girl because nowadays you never knew who was on the other end of the computer keyboard—was looking to get her to sign over some money before he or she disappeared.
Zane nodded. “I'll look into it. Give me all the information you've got. On Lizzie. On this guy. I'll see what I can find.”
“Okay. I hope I'm wrong but . . .”
“Better to be safe than sorry,” Zane finished the sentence.
“Exactly. Thank you, Zane, for doing this. And of course I'll pay you whatever your going rate is for this type of work—”
“Nope.” Zane shook his head.
“Zane. You don't have to do that. I don't have Great Granddad's kind of money but I'm not exactly hurting.”
“I know. This has nothing to do with money. I'm not planning on running this through my company anyway. I'm handling this on my own. Just me doing an old friend a favor.”
Looking pained to do so, Brent finally nodded. “All right. Thank you. And I'm serious, if you ever need anything from me I'm here for you. Not that I know what that could be but . . .” Brent shrugged.
“And I'll take you up on that if the need arises. Now, let's get going. I wanna run past the building I'm thinking of renting office space in. Check out the neighborhood before I meet with the owner later today.”
Brent groaned.
“Come on, it's not far. I'll take you past my gym on the way back. We can even grab a smoothie there if you'd like.” Zane dangled that promise more to taunt Brent than to tempt him.
Brent knew what he was up to. He cocked one brow high. “I thought you didn't do gyms.”
“Oh, I go occasionally. I just don't like it.” Zane grinned and took off running.
He smiled when he heard Brent's curse behind him, followed by the sound of his footsteps, fast and hard on the trail as he tried to catch up.
CHAPTER 7
When Missy finally opened the envelope she’d saved from Zane's destruction upon its arrival, the contents hadn't made her any happier than the sight of it had made him.
He'd been wrong. It hadn't been another wedding invitation. Instead it had been a very large and elaborate engagement announcement.
Cousin Amelia, the youngest of all her cousins, was getting married.
Oh joy.
Because that wasn't going to put any pressure on her and Zane for not being married yet at all. Nope.
She rolled her eyes.
But that wasn't the worst of it. As she walked into the restaurant where Amelia had asked to meet her to talk about something important in relation to the wedding, Missy had a bad feeling that more bad news was about to come any moment now.
“Missy.” Amelia ran forward and wrapped her in an embrace.
“Meli” Smiling, Missy used her cousin's childhood nickname to greet her.
It was hard to remain annoyed around her cousin. The girl—a young woman now—was so sweet and upbeat.
“Let's sit. We have so much to talk about and I'm starving.” Amelia pulled back, looking cute as a button in a pastel Lily Pulitzer sundress and kitten heels.
Her hair, pulled back into a low sleek blonde ponytail, swung as she spun and strode toward the table she'd vacated when she'd jumped up to greet Missy at the door.
“So how are you?” Amelia asked, bubbly as ever.
“Good. Thanks.” What could she say?
That she was tired of the job she used to love? That if one more person asked her when she and Zane were getting married she'd scream? That Amelia's wedding, whenever it happened, was the last thing she wanted to attend after having to suffer through two with Zane just this month?
And if Missy wasn't mistaken, this little meeting was likely so Amelia could ask her to be in the wedding party.
Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.
It was as if the universe was rubbing marital bliss in her face at every turn after finally giving her the only man she ever loved, the only man she ever wanted, and the one man who never wanted to get married.
But Missy couldn't hate Amelia for her overwhelming enthusiasm because as far as she could see it was completely genuine.
Amelia was the glass half full, joie du vie, carpe diem one in the family.
Missy had been once upon a time as well. When had that changed
? She wasn't exactly sure. Old age maybe.
Pfft. Old. At twenty-seven. Maybe she wasn't old quite yet but she was still older than Amelia who hadn't even reached her quarter of a century mark yet.
“And how's Zane?” Amelia dropped her gaze to Missy's bare left hand as the unasked question hung in the air. The ever present wondering when—more like if—Zane would ever propose.
Missy knew the answer to that, like it or not, but she wasn't in the mood to talk about it. Especially not with Amelia, who was basking in the glow of her newly engaged bliss.
“He's doing very well, thank you. The company is booming. In fact, he's looking at office space today to rent. They've grown so big and do so much business in this area they need a satellite office.”
“That's wonderful. But I bet the business keeps him busy. All that work can't leave much time with you, does it?”
“True, but we manage. Where there’s a will, there's a way. More importantly how are you doing?” Missy asked in an attempt to redirect the conversation away from herself and Zane. “You're insanely busy, I bet, with all the wedding preparations.”
“I don't mind. It's so much fun.” Amelia waved down a passing waitress. “What would you like, Missy? They have the best chai tea here. That's what I ordered.”
“Sounds good. I'll have one of those.” Missy would have preferred alcohol for this but the spiced tea would have to do. Maybe with some added pastry to give her a sugar high. “And a chocolate croissant?”
“Ooo. That sounds so good. But I'm on a diet for the wedding I'll have the fruit bowl.”
The waitress nodded and moved off to get their order while Missy considered the one upside of never getting married. She wouldn't have to diet to fit into a wedding dress.
“When is the wedding? Did you choose a date yet?” she asked so she could start preparing herself—and Zane—for the big event.
“That's what I wanted to talk to you about. We've chosen a few possible dates that I wanted to run by you.”
Uh, oh. Here it comes.
“Run by me?” Missy was afraid of the reason for that.
“Because I want you to be in my wedding party, of course. You and Zane.”
“Zane?” Missy nearly choked. Zane barely knew Amelia's long time boyfriend. Why would James want Zane as one of his groomsmen?
Amelia nodded. “Definitely. You two will look so perfect together for the pictures.”
Ah, yes. For the pictures. They might be both from the same generation but Missy and Amelia were very different in some key aspects. Missy was dating a man who avoided cameras and social media at all costs. While Amelia's life, including her relationship with James, was an open book for anyone with an Instagram or Snapchat account.
Zane would absolutely hate this. Missy was going to have to get him out of it. She'd suffer through the wedding stuff—Amelia was family, after all—but she had to keep Zane out of it. But how?
“Um, he's pretty busy with his company. He has a lot of responsibilities and he's always traveling. I'm not sure—”
“Seriously, the wedding party is so huge, he just has to show up that day and smile. It won’t take up any time at all.” Amelia waved a hand to dismiss Missy's concerns.
“I thought the trend was toward smaller wedding parties.” She'd read that somewhere and seen it herself last weekend where there was just a maid of honor and a best man.
“I know. Isn't it ridiculous? I think weddings should be big and festive so no one's left out. The bigger the better. Don't you agree?”
Missy did not agree but she nodded anyway, dumbfounded as to what she was going to do about Zane and this invitation.
The waitress arrived and set the mug of tea and plated croissant in front of Missy, and the fruit in front of Amelia.
She'd have to think of something to get around this, but until then, at least she had chocolate.
Missy bit into the buttery croissant and moaned as the warm chocolate inside coated her tongue.
No matter what mess this whole wedding party invitation would cause in her life later, right now everything seemed perfect as she closed her eyes and savored the bite of pastry.
Amelia giggled across the table. “You're not making my diet any easier, you know.”
Missy opened her eyes and came back to reality. “Sorry. I can't help it. This is amazing.”
“So I see. That's what I'm going to miss most about this diet. Baking and eating what I made.”
“You bake?” Missy asked, not meaning to sound as shocked by that fact as she was.
Amelia nodded. “Yeah. Almost every day.”
“Really?” Missy frowned so deep she had to consciously smooth out the lines she knew were creasing her forehead before she insulted her cousin.
“Yes, really.” Amelia laughed. “James loves my baking. I do cheat sometimes and take out dinner from one of the restaurants nearby, but I always make a homemade dessert.”
That sounded like an awful lot of time and effort. Amelia had a job, just like Missy, yet she couldn't imagine coming home from a full day of work and baking a homemade dessert.
“What do you make?” Maybe she meant she bought cookie dough and just baked it in the oven.
“All sorts of things. One of my favorite things to do is search Pinterest and blogs online and find new recipes. Tonight I'm trying out a recipe for champagne cupcakes. If it turns out, I might serve them at our engagement party.”
Nope. Not slice and bake cookies apparently. And now Missy also knew there was going to be an engagement party. And a shower, and a rehearsal dinner, and a bachelorette and bachelor party, all on top of the wedding.
Wonderful. Zane would just love that.
But that was something to deal with later. Right now, Missy was too fascinated with this strange new baking habit Amelia had picked up.
She shook her head. “I have to say, I'm impressed. It sounds like you're becoming quite the pastry chef.”
Amelia waved the praise away. “Oh, stop. It's easy to follow a recipe and it's fun. It relaxes me.” She leaned forward. “And it doesn't hurt that James has a sweet tooth.”
“When do you find the time? Wouldn't it be easier to order dessert when you order dinner?”
“But then the house wouldn't smell all yummy. And the cookies wouldn't be hot and gooey. That's the best part about making it myself. When James walks in and smells something in the oven his eyes just light up. You know how people claim Megan Markel landed Prince Harry by making roast chicken? I think they even call it engagement chicken now online. Anyway, my mother insists James proposed because of my baking.”
Amelia giggled but the idea didn't sound too farfetched to Missy. “How long have you and James been together?” she asked.
Meli smiled. “Nine months today. That's one reason I chose the champagne cupcakes for tonight. We're celebrating our anniversary.”
Missy nodded and tried not to lose her appetite for the rest of her chocolate croissant.
Nine months and engaged.
She didn't even want to count how many months she and Zane had been together. Before she knew it, she wouldn't be able to count the years on one hand.
Maybe she should take up baking herself. It might not help but having a steady supply of sweets certainly couldn't hurt.
“So where did you say you find your recipes?” Missy asked.
“Online. Pinterest. Food blogs. Instagram.”
Missy nodded, taking mental notes about it all.
Was she really going to do this? Start baking just to make Zane happy and hopefully, soften him up toward marriage?
She knew the answer. Yes. Yes, she was. It might not work but it was worth a try.
CHAPTER 8
“Zane Alexander. My man. What's up with you nowadays? How's civilian life treating you?”
Hitting the cell's screen to switch the call to speaker phone, Zane smiled at the enthusiasm the Navy SEAL computer god Will Weber never failed to show.
“Life's
damn good. And when you decide you've had enough of the Navy, give me a call. GAPS could use a man of your vast and unique talents.”
Will laughed. “No doubt. But I thought Rudnick hired a computer guy for you.”
“Jon did. A good one too. But we've got him tied up on some projects that are enough work to keep two men busy.”
That was the truth, but there was more to it. Zane wanted to keep Brent's case separate from GAPS.
Since he was handling this case himself, and not charging his old friend for the service, he couldn't in good conscience tie up already scarce and valuable GAPS resources for the job.
Zane continued, “We're actually opening another office in D.C..”
“I'm impressed. Good for you. I knew if anyone could make it work it'd be you two.”
Zane let out a short laugh. “I'm glad you knew because I sure didn't.”
It was nice that Will had been confident in the success of their company since he had had plenty of doubts himself.
That first year when it didn't look like they'd get the start up funding they needed, and then when they did get the money from Missy's father and he was afraid they'd fail and lose it, were some of the most stressful days of his life.
“So what can I do for you? I know you didn't call to just shoot the shit.”
“Am I that transparent?” Zane asked.
Will laughed. “Not at all. I just doubt you called in an effort to seriously try to convince me to come work for you so it must be something else.”
“As usual, you're right. I was hoping to pick your brain about something.”
“Sure. Shoot. What d'you need?”
“Let's say if, hypothetically, I wanted to find out more about who someone was communicating with on one of the social media sites, but this other person was using a screen name and didn't have any other information listed publicly—”
Will expelling a single choice curse word interrupted Zane's question.
Zane paused and then asked, “What's wrong?”
“Please tell me you don't want me to help you spy on your girlfriend. You know I'd kill or die for one of my SEAL brothers but I really wouldn't feel comfortable getting involved in something like this.”