Blake (Lighthouse Security Investigations Book 5)
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Blake
Lighthouse Security & Investigations
Maryann Jordan
Contents
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
29. Book Links
30. Author Information
Blake (Lighthouse Security Investigations) Copyright 2020
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, then you are reading an illegal pirated copy. If you would be concerned about working for no pay, then please respect the author’s work! Make sure that you are only reading a copy that has been officially released by the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by: Becky McGraw
ISBN ebook: 978-1-947214-50-7
ISBN print: 978-1-947214-51-4
Created with Vellum
Author’s Note
Please remember that this is a work of fiction. I have lived in numerous states as well as overseas, but for the last twenty years have called Virginia my home. I often choose to use fictional city names with some geographical accuracies.
These fictionally named cities allow me to use my creativity and not feel constricted by attempting to accurately portray the areas.
It is my hope that my readers will allow me this creative license and understand my fictional world.
I also do quite a bit of research on my books and try to write on subjects with accuracy. There will always be points where creative license will be used in order to create scenes or plots.
1
Are you back? Give me a call and let’s meet up! Shelley, XO
Blake’s head fell back against the wooden Adirondack chair, and he sighed. Shelley was always up for a good time, no doubt about it. Blonde, blue-eyed, tan, tight athletic body. They had met at one of the bars he and some of his co-workers frequented, and they had dated for a while.
Dated. Really? He rolled his eyes at his labeling their relationship as dating. More like we met up sometimes, laughed, drank, fucked, and definitely made no promises. Hell, she had made it clear that she looked for fun elsewhere when he was traveling. And he traveled a lot.
Scrubbing his hand over his face, he glanced back at his phone. Without hesitation, he deleted the text without answering.
He had just arrived back at his home from a trip, and his mind rolled to the mission he had completed. A Keeper for Lighthouse Security Investigations, he had gone to California to assist with a new identity case and relocation. The older gentleman had witnessed a crime, but when the DA was unsuccessful in obtaining a conviction, LSI stepped in and offered protection for the witness. He had no family and was eager to make a change, so they arranged a new identity and Blake escorted him across the country to California to help him become established in his new life.
It was an easy mission. Fuck, a boring one. But he had had a chance to visit with his own family. A California native, he relished the opportunity to surf with his brother, spend time with his parents, and have dinner with the family, including his sister-in-law and nephews and nieces. It also gave him a chance to find out about his sister, who was stationed at the embassy in Cairo, Egypt.
His phone vibrated again, interrupting his thoughts once more.
Please…I’ve missed you. You know it’ll be fun! Shelley XXOO
He wondered how many Xs and Os her messages would extend to if he kept ignoring her. He had considered calling one of the other Keepers to see if they wanted to go out for a beer but now worried about running into Shelley…someone he did not want to see.
They were fuck-buddies only...no, more like fuck-acquaintances-when-it’s-convenient. Hardly the basis for a true relationship. That line of thinking made him ponder the kind of relationship some of his friends had found. Mace Hanover, the owner of LSI, was now married to Sylvie and was father to her son, David. They had met when Sylvie and David were in trouble, and Mace discovered he would move heaven and earth to keep them safe. Now that’s a relationship.
Rank, another Keeper, was now married to Helena, and his good friend Walker was married to Julie. Both of them met their women while on missions as well. Two other keepers, Drew and Babs, had been making eyes at each other for a long time and had just recently got together. Yep, those are relationships, too.
Thinking of his friends, he knew that what he had with Shelley was nothing more than some temporary fun. He knew it...she knew it. And, up until recently, that had been enough.
On the heels of spending time with his brother and his wife, roughhousing with his two nephews, cuddling his niece, and celebrating his parents' thirty-fifth wedding anniversary, a wistfulness appeared. Unable to determine the cause, he pushed it down and ignored it through the rest of the visit and the long plane trip across the country. Until now.
The text from Shelley caused the wistfulness to reappear. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he deleted her second text. With his hands flat on the arms of the Adirondack, he pushed himself up, sucked in a deep breath, and walked inside. It took little time to clean the dishes before he moved into his office. Firing up his secure computer, he checked emails, paid several bills, and then finally shut his laptop. Walking through the house, shutting it down for the night, he once more relished his home.
He had bought the house not long after he left the military and moved for his new employment. Even though the property backed to the water, he still managed to snag it for an excellent price. An older house, its bones were sturdy, but the space needed updating. He had completed most of the work himself, only contracting out what he could not do. Now, it was his refuge.
He stepped back onto the deck, unable to refuse the lure of the forest and water. He pulled the clean, cool air deeply into his lungs. Paradise. Fuckin’ paradise.
Reading until his mind relaxed, he climbed into bed. Rolling over, he looked out the window and could see the moonlight reflecting off the water. When he bought the house, he had no future plans other than to fix it up and enjoy it. But now, the thought passed through his mind that it would be nice to have someone that he could share it with.
Someone interesting. Someone who could hold a conversation and engage his mind. Someone who accepted his work and understood he had to travel at times. Hell, someone who enjoyed traveling themselves. He could not conjure up an image in his mind as he lay in bed but felt certain she was out there.
Growling in frustration, he rolled over and punched his pillow, determined not to let those thoughts keep him from sleep, instead
planning for his next day.
Early the next morning, Blake drove to work, thrilled that he was not heading downtown to a position in a corporate cubicle. His boss, Mace, had grown up on the coastline of Maine in a small house near a lighthouse that was no longer being used. When Mace returned from his military and CIA Operative days, he bought all the land around his former home, including the lighthouse.
The land was lush and green, thick forests all around, with the rocky coast leading down to the crashing waves of the Atlantic Ocean. The white lighthouse included a large home that was connected, all now being used as the Lighthouse Security Investigations compound. Mace, Sylvie, and David lived in a new house that had been built on the land that he had grown up on.
As Blake drove out of the thick forest, the view of the whitewashed lighthouse and the ocean beyond never ceased to make him appreciative of the northeast coastline. He loved California but found New England to be exceptionally beautiful.
He parked outside the house, walking into the kitchen, greeting Horace and Marge. A couple that Mace had hired to help run the physical compound of LSI, Horace had been a former SEAL. Marge had met Mace when he was a CIA Operative and was glad to snag the two of them when he opened his own security business.
Marge smiled as he walked in. “How’s the family?”
“You’re not going to ask about the mission?”
She pursed her lips. “Don’t all my Keepers come back from successful missions? Hell, that would be a waste of my precious time to ask about what I already know. I’m more interested in the rest of your family.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “It was great. I got to see everybody, celebrate my parents' anniversary, meet my new niece.”
Marge often resembled a drill sergeant in both looks in mannerisms, but underneath, she loved the Keepers and did not mind letting them know. She reached over and patted his hand. “I’m so glad you had a chance to spend time with them and even more glad that everyone is happy and healthy.”
Horace stood from the table, still an impressive figure. Barrel chested, athletic, steel-gray hair cut high and tight, with twinkling blue eyes. “Good to have you home.” His gaze drifted out the window to where others were driving up, and he said, “Take this down for Marge. It looks like everyone will be here in just a few minutes.”
Dutifully, he picked up the basket of breakfast items and walked down the hall toward the lighthouse. Turning to a panel on the wall, he tapped in a security code, waited for the retina scan, then placed his hand on the finger scanner. A door swung open, and he entered, shutting it securely behind him.
An elevator descended, and at the bottom, he entered a hallway leading to another door. Going through the same security as above, the door swung open, and he entered the cavernous main room of LSI. His boots made little sound on the concrete floor as he walked past the walls filled with computer equipment, screens, and stations where several men already sat, manning the keyboards. Greeting Sylvie, he sat Marge’s basket on a counter toward the side next to a large, industrial coffee maker.
Soon, all the Keepers were sitting around the main conference table giving updates on their current cases. When it was his time, he talked about the resettlement of the client in California, double-checking with Josh, their resident computer expert. Josh had been responsible for providing the man with the new identity and continued to monitor their client even after Blake had left him.
“So far, no problems,” Josh said, barely glancing up from his screen.
Blake offered a chin lift, acknowledging Josh’s continued assistance before turning back to Mace. “It was easy.” He tossed out a rueful chuckle. “Downright boring, if I’m honest.” As with most of the Keepers, they preferred missions that had a little more excitement but knew that many of the jobs LSI accepted were mundane.
“Might be boring to us,” Mace acknowledged, “but to our client, you and Josh gave him a start on a new life. One that’s safe and hopefully happy.”
A female cleared her voice loudly, and he swung around, his gaze landing on Sylvie. He knew what was coming, and she did not disappoint.
“Glad all was well with the family, but you know I need your report.”
He glanced around the table, noting the sympathetic expressions on the other Keepers' faces. Writing up reports after a completed mission was their least favorite thing to do. He was saved having to reply when Drew and Babs walked into the room and greetings were called out.
Winking at him, Babs looked over at Sylvie. “I’ll bet he’s already itching for a new mission before turning in all of his receipts and paperwork, right?”
“I’m getting it, I’m getting it! Damn!” He laughed, shaking his head. Standing, he walked over to Babs’ desk and handed his stack of receipts to her. “I knew you’d be looking for these right away.”
Her mouth dropped open, and she exclaimed, “Good God! Blake is actually turning something in on time!”
Rolling his eyes, he greeted Drew as the two of them sat back down at the table. Mace went over the current cases LSI was working on.
“Josh is currently working on three identity changes. Tate and Clay are in Texas, finishing the security for a newly-elected senator’s family. CIA Director Ted Silver is keeping me apprised of the situation in Honduras. He still thinks it will require intervention from us, but they’re at a standstill right now. Cobb is still in Washington, D.C., finishing his assignment. He says he should be ready to fly home by the end of the week. Rank has finished his mission in Canada and is flying back tomorrow.”
Blake watched as Mace continued going over future assignments, then turned his eagle-eyed gaze toward him. He lifted an eyebrow, hope running through him. “Got something new for me, Boss?”
Mace nodded. “A new request just came in for a four-day security escort. An economics expert is attending a summit in French Guiana, and his company has decided at the last minute that they would like security. We don’t have anything specific on him, certainly no threat, and French Guiana is not a serious security threat...not like some other places in South America. I double-checked with his company to see if there’s anything they’re not telling us, but they’ve assured me that he is just a nervous traveler, never been out of the United States. They’ve also admitted that he’s a bit socially awkward but a brilliant economist.”
Staring at Mace, Blake blinked several times in an attempt to keep his mouth from falling open. Finally, he sputtered, “Seriously, Mace? Jesus, I just came back from one boring assignment, and you’re sending me on another?”
“Sorry, Blake. Walker hasn’t been back from Mexico that long, and Drew and Babs just got back from the Caribbean.”
“Hell, I don’t mind going to South America. I just wish it was a little more exciting than babysitting someone at an economics summit.”
“Well, once the economist is tucked into his bed at night, maybe you can find some excitement. Anyway, we can’t all find our true mates when we’re off on assignments,” Drew said, clapping him on the shoulder while the others laughed.
“Oh, honey bunches, that’s so sweet.” Babs winked, much to the amusement of everyone.
Rolling his eyes, Blake looked at Mace. “You know I’ll take the assignment, Mace. But the next time there’s something a little more exciting, I’m throwing my name in!”
The group meeting broke up, and he sat with Mace and Josh as they planned the mission. His gaze ran over the dossier of the client. Dr. Stanley Cooper. Forty-seven years old. Department Chair of Economics at Boston University. Speaker at national summits. Part of an economic think tank that lobbied in Washington, D.C. Never traveled outside the U.S. Single. Never married. Hmph...there’s a shocker.
Once he had the information he needed on the client, the summit, and French Guiana, he met with Sylvie to go over his travel arrangements. The summit would take two days, and travel time would extend the mission to four days.
By the end of the week, he was ready for the trip. After s
everal more briefings on the day before he was to leave. He threw up a two-fingered salute, calling out his goodbyes. Upstairs, he said goodbye to Horace and bent to kiss Marge on the cheek.
“Stay safe, Blake.” Her gaze warm as she looked up at him.
“I always do, Marge,” he assured. “I think the worst thing that can happen to me on this trip will be falling asleep in the middle of the summit and banging my head when I hit the floor.”
As he walked out the door to climb into his SUV, their laughter followed him outside. Truthfully, he treated every mission with equal attention to detail and would give this one his all as well. Maybe—just maybe—it won’t be too boring.
2
“For most countries, you have to harness the existing growth. Risks are rising, and the world growth is going slower than expected. Much of this is intertwined with policy. Higher tariffs and rising uncertainty, tied to trade policies leading to higher economic volatility…”
Blake was certain he had landed in hell and uncertain that he was going to be able to stay awake to experience it. He leaned forward from the wall, hoping for a glimpse of… Damn, I’m not in the right place to see her.
There was one bright spot in the conference...the beautiful redhead translator he chanced to see the first day in the hotel when they arrived. He did not know she was a translator then, just that she was a French-speaking beauty. And right now, he wanted to see her again.