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Mistletoe Magic

Page 24

by Fern Michaels


  Of course, Camden came in a close second. They were the same age, shared many of the same interests, and when it was time to close shop, neither she nor Camden had any trouble removing her professional hat for a night out on the town, or often a quiet meal prepared in Hannah’s ultramodern kitchen. Both had taken an avid interest in cooking when they had started packing on a few extra pounds last year. Once a week, if their schedules permitted, they would take turns making dinner. Of course, dinner always included a bottle or two of wine. Comfortable with each other, they would chat about fashion, makeup, anything except work; then, as with most single females, they would discuss their current dating situations. Sadly, more often than not, neither one was having much success in that area. Not because they worked too much, and not because there wasn’t quite a fine selection of available men in southwest Florida, but because both women were extremely finicky about men.

  As a result, Hannah and Camden were planning to spend the upcoming holiday together, doing absolutely nothing except lounging on the beach and catching up on their favorite authors’ new books. Both agreed this was the best possible decision, given that neither had close family or any reason to do anything else.

  Most of her high-profile cases were coming to an end, and she hadn’t planned to take on any more until after the New Year. She’d given all her employees a two-and-a-half-week paid vacation beginning December 18 and ending Monday, January 5, 2015. They were ecstatic and couldn’t stop talking about her generosity. She liked her team and thought of them as friends first, then coworkers. She was not a “me boss, you employee” employer.

  Her father had often told her that in business one accomplished so much more by being kind and generous to one’s employees rather than bossy, demanding, and condescending. To this day, Ray Enterprises, along with H.R. Investigations, had some of the happiest employees around. And Ray Enterprises was among the top five businesses on Fortune Magazine’s list of the best companies to work for.

  Two weeks of bliss, she thought, as she pulled up her schedule for the upcoming week. Two weeks of sun, sand, and surf, and, if she was lucky, she could delve into those books she had recently received from Amazon.

  Clearing her mind, Hannah scrolled through her iPad mini. The firm had three consultations scheduled that afternoon. One was with an insurance company that suspected an injured employee collecting workman’s compensation was doing so illegally. That would be a breeze to solve. She would have Ed, her number-one part-timer, do the consultation and go out on a surveillance mission, his specialty.

  Next was a young woman who suspected that her husband was cheating on her. Hannah detested this part of her work and tried to distance herself from it as much as possible, but sadly, the need for it was a reality in life, and someone had to do it. Marlene would meet with the woman, as she was the expert at anything requiring a telephoto lens and being incognito, plus she was extremely nosy, always an added bonus in the private-investigation business.

  The last consultation for the day she would take care of personally since the client had requested that she do so.

  Last year, Hannah had been hired to keep tabs on an abusive husband when an ignorant judge had released him on his own recognizance after he had been charged with beating his wife to a pulp. Because the man happened to be from a wealthy family, several members of whom were well-known attorneys, the judge assured his wife’s attorney that she would have nothing to fear from her husband and certainly not his family, even going so far as to imply that she had brought the beating on herself.

  Hannah immediately contacted Grace Landry out in Colorado, told her the woman’s story, and personally put Leanne on a plane to Denver. Once the abused spouse was at Hope House, Grace’s shelter for battered families, Hannah breathed a sigh of relief. She’d stayed in contact with Leanne and was saddened when she learned that the woman had recently returned to Fort Myers to make an attempt to reunite with her abusive husband. And it was because of this that she had decided to pull in a few favors at Health Park Hospital. Two days ago, Leanne had been admitted to the hospital with a broken nose and a cracked pelvis. Hannah planned to confront Leanne’s husband, Bruce Wells, and make a special trip to visit Leanne. This wasn’t her usual modus operandi, but she was passionate about those who suffered abuse at the hands of people who were supposed to love them the most and anyone who bullied others. You might say that it was her Achilles’ heel.

  Stuffing her iPad in her briefcase, she grabbed her purse and raced out the door, locking it behind her, only to remember the cell phone she’d left in the master bath when she’d been blow-drying her hair. As soon as she inserted her key in the lock, she heard its familiar xylophone ringtone. “Darn,” she muttered as she raced through the condo to the master suite.

  She hit the green ANSWER button. “Hello?” she said, a bit winded.

  “Hannah?” came a male voice.

  “Yes, this is Hannah Ray. How can I help you?” She dropped her briefcase on the floor and plopped down on her vanity stool, staring at the face in the mirror. Straight blond hair, brown eyes. A regular face, she thought, nothing remarkable.

  “It’s Max Jorgenson.”

  It took a couple of seconds for Hannah to call up the image that went with the voice, but when she did, she was all smiles. Max Jorgenson. The Olympic gold-medal skier. Grace Landry’s husband.

  She grinned. “And to what do I owe this honor?” she asked in a teasing tone. She’d been a bit impressed when she’d met Max through Grace.

  She could hear him clearing his throat. “I’m not sure you would call this an honor. It’s more of a favor.”

  A favor? From her? Hannah hadn’t a clue what Max Jorgenson wanted from her, but if he’d bothered making the phone call personally, then it must be something very urgent and important.

  “Anything, Max. Just say the word.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t say that just yet. Hear me out.”

  “Hey, anything for you and Grace. She really helped me out last year, and as it just so happens, I might need her services again. Same client. A sad situation, but go on. You called me. What gives?”

  “I need you to come to Colorado. Mid-December if possible,” Max said.

  Hannah visualized all her plans for sun, sand, and surf swirling right down the drain.

  In a voice she hoped didn’t relay just how much she did not want to travel out West, she said, “Of course, Max. Just give me the time and place, and I will be there.”

  “I knew I could count on you,” Max said, then gave her the details before thanking her again and clicking off.

  “No sunning. No reading. No relaxing on the beach. There goes my Christmas vacation.”

  Chapter 2

  “You know I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t important,” Max said. “It’s not like you to have holiday plans. I know you, old man, remember? We go back a long way.”

  Liam McConnell shook his head, then spoke into the phone. “Don’t remind me how long, okay? I’m not getting any younger, and trust me, it shows,” Liam said in a deep voice that still held traces of an Irish accent even though he’d been living in the United States since he was a young boy. “So, go on, tell me, what’s so damned important? I’m all ears.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, Max updated Liam on the situation at Telluride. He knew for a fact that Liam McConnell was the best in the business when it came to information security. He had a bachelor’s in Criminal Justice, a Harvard law degree, and had worked with the Federal Bureau of Investigation for two years before going out on his own. He was one of only a few experts on electronic-information security. Max knew that Liam could pick and choose when and where to work, but he was also sure that Liam wouldn’t turn him down. He was offering his best cabin at the resort as long as he wanted and, of course, he would pay him whatever his usual fee was. Then he had an added surprise, but he wasn’t going to mention that just yet. Something Grace had cooked up, and he’d agreed wholeheartedly, though that wasn’t the ma
in reason for his wanting Liam’s help in finding the culprits who were trying to destroy his business.

  “And you think one of your employees is hacking into your systems?” Liam asked.

  “More than one,” Max said.

  “You do realize I am at my beach house on Sanibel Island and planned to spend December fishing and relaxing?”

  “No, I didn’t. If you can’t do this, I understand. I just wanted the best. And you are the best,” Max added with a lilt in his voice.

  “Ah, you do know how to get to a man’s heart. All right. I am yours. For two weeks. If I haven’t located the source, then I’ll have had a free ski vacation, and you, my friend, will be shit out of luck.”

  They talked more, laughed about old times, then Liam wrote down the date when he would need to fly to Colorado. After they finished their call, he had a strong suspicion his old ski buddy had something more than a job waiting for him.

  Liam shook his head and reached for his iPad. Plans were made to be changed. While he disliked the idea of spending Christmas at a ski resort where hundreds of people would be filled with holiday cheer, he supposed it could be worse. In all honesty, he’d truly been looking forward to spending a few weeks at his home on Sanibel Island, but Max was a good friend. Liam counted his few close friends as priceless. If forgoing a bit of fishing meant helping his friend out, he consoled himself with the thought that he could fish any time. With that in mind, he called Pierce, his pilot, and made arrangements to have his Learjet available for a trip to Colorado.

  Liam wasn’t much for holidays. Any of them. Too much money spent on silly things, in his not-so-humble opinion. He remembered a woman he’d been dating last year. She’d spent a small fortune on a fountain pen for him. He’d wanted to take it back to the store where she’d purchased it and insist she use the money for something meaningful. like a charitable organization. He had more expensive fountain pens than he could count. And to be honest, he liked BIC pens much better. The woman—he couldn’t recall her name—had been deleted from his list of female contacts. The list was getting slimmer and slimmer. The women who knew him knew that he was fairly well-off. Indeed, that seemed to be the major attraction he held for them. Unfortunately, for him it was an instant turnoff.

  Whatever happened to women with respect? Brains? Goals other than marrying a rich man to take care of them, to provide them with meaningless baubles and fancy cars? He was sure he’d remain a bachelor because there didn’t seem to be that one special woman who couldn’t get past his wealth. Or, if there was, he hadn’t met her yet.

  Chapter 3

  December 17, 2014

  Hannah was in a foul mood when her plane finally touched down at Denver International Airport. The flight had been turbulent, the man seated next to her had snored throughout the flight, and she had not been one bit happy at having to leave Leanne and her domestic situation behind. Camden had promised to keep a watch over her, but she knew that they could only do so much. Leanne had to realize that there was nothing she could do that would salvage her marriage; she had to want to make the necessary changes in her life herself. Sadly, Hannah feared that she might not be able to force herself to make those changes before it was too late.

  As soon as Hannah exited the plane, she found the ladies’ room, repaired her makeup, and began her search for the area where Max had a limo waiting. She liked the thought of riding through the Colorado mountains in the back of a limo. Though she disliked the cold, she had to admit that the snowcapped mountains were breathtaking.

  The drive would give her a couple of hours to rest and prepare herself for the work ahead. She hoped to find Max’s hackers, do what was needed, and still have time to enjoy her planned staycation at the beach. She did not like snow. She did not like to be cold. And more than anything, the thought of being at an upscale ski resort during their busiest time of year made her wish for the comfort and quiet of her beachfront condo.

  “Suck it up, girl. It ain’t happening, Hannah,” she muttered to herself as she made her way through the crowds. She wound her way through the travelers, some loaded with tons of luggage, others with sets of skis, snowboards, and all the heavy-duty gear required to freeze in luxury. She did not understand why people would willingly place themselves in freezing temperatures and actually call it fun. But again, she was a Florida girl through and through. After a tram ride and a trip up an escalator, she spied the exit, where her limo waited. Just as Max had said.

  “You must be Miss Ray?” a handsome young man with caramel-colored skin dressed in a navy blue uniform asked as he saw her approach the limousine.

  She wanted to correct him. It was Ms. Ray, but there was no use starting out on the wrong foot when she already had one strike—the presence of cold air and gobs of snow rather than warm sunshine and a sandy beach—against her. She’d let it pass. After all, it was true. She was a Miss. Ms. just sounded better to her.

  “I’ll take that,” the limo driver said, reaching for her carry-on and opening the door for her. “Miss,” he said, indicating that she should get inside.

  “Yes, of course.” She slid across the plush seat and inhaled the unmistakable scent of real leather. A rich man’s scent, she thought as she tucked her pocketbook and briefcase on the floor next to her boot-clad feet.

  Cut the attitude, Hannah. This is what it is. Work for a friend. Get over it. Do your job, then go home and enjoy the rest of your time off!

  “Mr. Jorgenson said you wouldn’t mind?” the driver said again.

  “What? I’m sorry,” she said. “Must be jet lag.”

  “I have another passenger to pick up. Mr. Jorgenson said you wouldn’t mind sharing the limo. He has more than one client to pick up today. It’s the busy season, you know?”

  Hannah wanted to say, “No shit,” but kept it to herself. And who was this other passenger? Another ski bum taking advantage of Max’s good nature? She decided to ask. “So who are we picking up?” She tried to sound cheerful, as though she were truly grateful to have a companion for the ride.

  The young man slid into the driver’s seat, then hit the button that opened the window that separated the driver from the passengers. “He’s a business associate, miss.”

  “Of course,” she replied. What had she expected other than a ski bum? Max Jorgenson was a big-time resort owner, a former Olympic gold-medal winner. It only made sense that he would have associates visiting him year-round. And if they got in a few days on the slopes, all the better. If you liked that sort of thing, which she didn’t.

  “We just have to drive to the general aviation side of the airport; it won’t take long,” the driver informed her as he pulled out into a long line of traffic preparing to exit the airport.

  “That’s fine. I’m in no hurry at all,” she lied in the sweetest voice. She was starting not to like herself very much. Maybe I should refer to myself as Ms. Scrooge. She smiled at the unbidden thought.

  “Thanks, because we’re going to be in some heavy traffic. Tomorrow evening is the beginning of Hanukkah, so we’ve got plenty of travelers who want to be settled in at the resort before the holiday begins at sunset. Mr. Jorgenson says this is going to be a record-breaking year.”

  “That’s wonderful,” she replied, trying hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. For him.

  “I know. I’m just thrilled to be a part of it all. My kid sister, she’s twelve, hopes to make it to the Olympics one day, so I’m hoping I can make a connection for her.” He stopped speaking, as though he’d revealed too much. “I mean, I don’t know Mr. Jorgenson well enough to ask him if he’d coach my sister or anything like that, it’s just that she’s very talented and needs all the breaks she can get.”

  Hannah wanted to add that she could almost guarantee the breaks, but they might not be the kind he was hoping for. She didn’t, though. “Have you talked to Max about your sister?” she asked, trying to show some form of sincere interest.

  “No! I wouldn’t dream of it. At least not yet. I .
. . well, I plan to play it by ear.”

  “Well, if you’d like, I can put in a good word for you. I’m sure Max would be more than willing to coach your sister, especially if she’s as talented as you say. If not, I’m quite sure he could put you in contact with another coach.” She didn’t know that at all, but the poor kid seemed so excited when he talked about his sister that Hannah suddenly felt sorry for him. Trying to make it in a tough world. It was hard these days. Even more so if you didn’t have the luxury of wealth and family to support you. She had no clue if that was the case now, but it was probably close enough. The kid wouldn’t be driving a limo just for the fun of it. At least she didn’t think so.

  “You’d do that for me? I’m practically a stranger.”

  True, but she could tell he was decent. In her profession, the ability to size people up was absolutely necessary. And this young guy was legit. And she would make sure his sister got the training she needed, even if it meant paying for it herself. Anonymously, of course.

  “Just write your name and number down, and don’t forget to give it to me.”

  He reached inside his shirt pocket and whipped out a shiny gold business card. “This has all of Tasha’s info, and mine. I’m kind of like her agent since our mom died two years ago. She used to drive her to practice every day, but I can do that now with this job. And by the way, I’m Terrence.”

 

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