The Wells Brothers: Aaron

by Angela Verdenius

  The next hour went quickly as he went about the business of a Monday morning, catching up on news, tagging the different teams, going through reports and then, not so interestingly, the dull process of running a business in regards to bank statements, insurances, accounts and other mundane things, though to be honest he sometimes found it to be lulling of the mind, a rest from being alert.

  He was just in the midst of a mind-numbing phone call to the bank when Ryan walked into the room. Phone to ear, waiting for the man on the other end to return and continue speaking, Aaron watched Ryan.

  His head security man crossed to the stand near the small window, peering out through the somewhat grimy glass and security screen to the building next door. Not one expression crossed his face but Aaron knew what he was thinking, and it amused him.

  After several seconds Ryan shook his head, turned around and crossed back to the desk to sit in the chair opposite. He didn’t drop into the chair like some of Aaron’s security personnel did, nor did he did slouch. Ryan just sat quietly with back straight, palms resting lightly on his thighs, his gaze fixing unwaveringly on Aaron.

  Calmly, Aaron met his gaze, both men looking at each other as they waited - Aaron for the man on the other end of the phone, Ryan for Aaron. Some would have found the steady gaze exchange unnerving, Aaron didn’t care. Ryan? Man’s expression gave nothing away but he didn’t give a rat’s arse either.

  “Aaron,” the bank manager spoke apologetically over the phone.

  “Talk to me,” Aaron said quietly.

  “I’m really sorry. I tracked down the mistake in the fund transfer. Your account will show up the amount now.”

  “Where did it go?”

  “The new teller was accidentally given your transaction to do and made a dumb mistake. I’ll ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

  “I don’t like mistakes that don’t get picked up by the bank.”

  Across from him, Ryan didn’t blink.

  “I apologise.” Darren was almost grovelling. “I will personally ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Not by firing the new teller.” Train them better would be the go.

  “Of course not, but I’ll make sure you have your usual teller doing the transactions.”

  “Thank you. I’ll check my account in ten minutes.”

  “I’ll personally fix it myself.” After a few more promises, Darren rang off.

  Hanging up the phone, Aaron brought up the statement screen and refreshed it before switching his attention to Ryan, but before he could open his mouth Marietta walked in with a disc in her hand. “Did you see what was moving in next door?”

  Aaron held out his hand for the disc.

  She placed it on his palm. “Surveillance was correct. Mac and crew are planning to kidnap Fred Russo.”

  He slid it into the disc slot, clicked the icon, watched as the scene in the restaurant was played out around a nearby table. The picture and sound was caught by the surveillance camera concealed in Marietta’s handbag.

  No doubt about it, Russo had been targeted. The AFP would be very interested in the disc. “Copy it, notify Edward, give him this envelope as well.” Aaron handed both the disc and the envelope to her.

  “Pick up from here as usual?”

  Aaron looked at her.

  “Right. Ring the AFP, speak to Edward, get his most shapely arse down here to pick up the copy so he can get the Federal Police on the move. Thanks, Marietta, job well done.”

  “Thanks, Marietta, job well done.”

  “Gee, boss, you didn’t have to say that. I’m flattered.”

  Used to her sarcasm, Aaron said, “And it’s who, not what.”

  “Huh?”

  “What didn’t move in next door, who did.”

  “Oh yeah.” She brightened. “Who is it?”

  “Spook talker,” Ryan replied.

  “Maybe you should talk to him.”

  “Her.”

  “Ohhh, Ryan. Maybe she can see behind your dark and mysterious façade.”

  Ryan didn’t blink.

  “Don’t you have work to do?” Aaron resumed typing on the keyboard.

  “Such a taskmaster,” Marietta informed Ryan.

  Silently, Ryan got up from the chair and walked out the door.

  Marietta followed. “My God, Ryan, you could talk the hind leg off a donkey. You know that?”

  Now that both his employees had left his office - though not the building, he could still hear Marietta trying to wind up the unflappable Ryan - Aaron stood up and stretched, crossing to the small window to peer out at the yard next door.

  From here he could only see the bitumen driveway running down the side of his building, the fence, and the top of the single-story building next door. Normally he wouldn’t have bothered to watch anyone new moving in, he’d already done a background check on his new neighbour and wasn’t fazed. But now that Ryan and Marietta had mentioned it…

  He found himself leaving his office and heading upstairs to Control Centre. Crossing the room, he stood at the far corner to gaze down at the street below, and specifically, the building into which his new neighbours were moving. And not just business, either, but living. Living behind their business.

  This business was going to be interesting.

  As he watched through the heavily tinted window which ensured security could see out but no one could see in, one of his two new neighbours walked outside to the car, bending to stick his head into the boot. He scuffled around, reappeared with a bag in each hand.

  Aaron had seen the photos of him before, but automatically he did a run-down in his head - Cole Winters, sixteen years old, dark haired, brown-eyed, average height, average build, and intelligent. Maybe too intelligent? Intelligence could go either way, for good or bad.

  His attention was caught by the second new neighbour, this one piquing his interest more than she should have considering her shady current career.

  Shea Winters, aka Stella Donahue - clairvoyant, medium and psychic - and as fake as they came. Rather than the demure, almost old-fashioned clothing of the grand opening night, she was dressed in a pair of pale blue knickerbockers that hugged her curvy derriere, a lacy, sleeveless pale pink top that skimmed generous breasts, and a pair of white tennis shoes. The glossy black waves were confined in a high plait. She didn’t look anything like the woman at the party. Not to mention when she turned and looked up at his building her face was clear of make-up, and if he looked closer…just a little closer….it appeared she didn’t have any false eyelashes, either.

  Now she looked like one of the photos he had, the one from the court case.

  Cole bumped Shea with his shoulder, she bumped him back and they did a little power struggle dance of shoving, both laughing before she side-stepped to let him pass.

  From the backseat she hauled another box and followed her younger brother back into their home. Minutes later they appeared again, got into the car and drove off, probably to retrieve more stuff.

  After watching the little white car zip out of sight, Aaron turned around to find his two security men watching him curiously.

  “Something wrong?” Ben asked.

  “Nope.” He started back down the length of the room.

  Ben and Richie looked at each other before Ben remarked, “Gonna be interesting having the spook talker living right next door.”

  “Mmmm,” was all Aaron said before going down the staircase back to the ground floor.

  He’d just settled back at his desk when he heard Marietta’s startled exclamation, “What the hell…?”

  Aaron glanced at the door. Looked like she’d started getting answers to her email. Raymond’s email. Whatever. Fingers poised above the keyboard, he listened to her tirade.

  “What the hell? Why is everyone sending me emails full of kisses and asking me for a date?”

  “It’s in answer to your love letter to us all,” Ben called down from the top of the staircase.

  “I didn’t send this
!”

  “That dirty joke came from you, Marietta my sweet. Don’t act coy.”

  “Up yours, Ben! Who did it? Huh? Who hacked my account? Oh for - Richie, I wouldn’t date you for all the tea in China!”

  There was no reply from Richie, no doubt because he had his eyes on the surveillance cameras. But he’d obviously shot a reply to her email.

  “Damn it. When I find out - Raymond!”

  “He sent you an invite to gaze at the stars, too?”

  “I’ll kick his arse! Where is that drongo?”

  A guffaw sounded.

  “I’ll gut him! Where is that little weasel?”

  “Out on an errand. But don’t worry, my darling pookie, we can make sweet-”

  “Don’t finish that sentence unless you want to become a eunuch. Oh for -”

  “Aw, look, Marietta. Kennedy sent you a picture of a bunch of flowers. That’s sooooo cute.”

  A new voice sounded. “I’m hurt, Marietta. How could you think I’m one of the blokes?”

  “Gail, I didn’t. Raymond-”

  “I mean, I’m touched you love me and all, but seriously, making it so public?”

  “Argh! When that doofus gets back, I’ll-”

  “Come on, sweetie,” Ben cooed. “You don’t need ol’ Raymond. I’ll take good care of you.”

  “Wipe that smile off your dial or I’ll plaster it all over the wall!”

  “All right, everyone.” Ryan’s calm tone floated through the hall. “Fun’s over. Let’s get back to work.”

  “Did you see-?” Marietta began heatedly.

  “Take your hot head and go with Gail, do a sweep of the mayor’s office.”

  “You want me alone with her?” Gail’s voice quivered with laughter. “Did you not see the email, Ryan? I’m scared.”

  “Come on.” There were definite sounds of Marietta moving. “On the way we might meet Raymond, and when we do I’ll smack him against a wall and make his little bug eyes pop.”

  “Man, you’re into the rough stuff.”

  The door closing cut off Marietta’s retort.

  A murmur of voices and everything went quiet again.

  Unfazed, Aaron resumed typing. Raymond and Marietta had been sparking off each other ever since they’d both started working for him. It made for some very entertaining moments. Life could be dangerous for security, so he cut them some slack, let them burn off some steam, and if he wasn’t there he could always count on Ryan to reel them in when needed.

  Now that peace reigned, Aaron continued with work. When the fax machine spat out a wad of papers, he collected them and crossed to the two old armchairs in the corner of his office, dropping down into one to read. Linking one ankle over the opposite knee, he shuffled the papers and settled down, immersing himself in the paperwork dealing with the division of his security firm that dealt in armed response and retrieval when his clients were threatened by someone with a gun or other weapon. Time passed as he flicked each page over slowly.

  So focussed on the reports, it only gradually dawned on him that he was no longer alone in the room. Glancing up, his gaze locked on an orange-eyed, furry, rather monstrous cat sitting in the doorway to his office giving him the eyeball.

  Damned if it wasn’t ginger.

  Laying the papers down on his lap, he studied it.

  It balefully studied him right back.

  Now where the heck had this thing come from? And ginger? How had it got past everyone in the office? And seriously? Ginger?

  A voice from the front of the building caught his attention immediately. The honeyed tone was accompanied by a laugh. Very familiar, full-on, rich and deep.

  In response, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Well, well, well.

  “Aaron?” Raymond appeared in the doorway, his eyes widening as he saw the big ginger cat who stood up and hissed at him before stalking across the carpet to take up position right in front of his boss’s desk. “When did we get a cat?”

  For a man with an astounding IQ, that was a remarkably dumb question.

  “We didn’t.” Aaron rested his arms on the armrest. “Show Miss Winters in.”

  Raymond gave the big cat a wary look which the cat returned with a glare before calling out, “In here, Miss Winters.”

  “That’s Miss Donahue, but you can call me Stella.”

  As if every member of Wells Security didn’t know better.

  Raymond looked at Shea as she came up beside him. “Sure.”

  An arched eyebrow was all he got in return for his bland tone.

  He returned to the reception area.

  Lifting one hand, Aaron rested his mouth on the side of his forefinger while thoughtfully regarding his unexpected visitor.

  Yes, he definitely preferred this side of her. The mysterious psychic was gone, the thick false eyelashes replaced with naturally thick lashes that blinked slowly at him, sweeping down to cover those incredible whisky-coloured eyes before lifting to give him the full effect. The soft lips were now a natural pink, the flush of exertion on her cheeks endearing. No make-up, she was a fresh-faced beauty.

  Appreciatively, his gaze slipped down her body, taking in every lush curve on the way down and every enticing dip on the way up before coming to rest on her face once more. A little flushed from shifting boxes, a little damp at the brow where she raised her forearm to wipe across it, making those generous breasts shift enticingly against the lace top.

  It had been a long time since anyone had blipped attraction on his radar, a long time since he’d seen a woman as more than just another human to be treated accordingly. That it could be this curvaceous little fake was a puzzle. Normally it’d be a buzz of warning, not a blip of interest.

  Bemused, he studied her.

  “Look.” Shea Winters smiled widely. “A ginger cat did cross your path.”

  ~*~

  Oh boy, the man sitting so casually in the old armchair was watching her intently. The pale blue of his irises were shadowed by the narrowing of his eyes so that they appeared almost dark in colour. The slant of the sunlight through the side window made the dark blonde/gold hair look almost light brown with hints of gold. Or maybe it was just the old brown armchair that lent it’s colour to those thick strands.

  Some women would kill for hair like that.

  “I’m here for my cat,” she added, when the silence lengthened.

  Those eyes slid to the side where Ginger was eyeing her balefully.

  “Ah. Yes. He does have a tendency to explore.”

  That steady gaze came back to settle on her.

  Prepared to be pleasant, she felt a mild spark of irritation. To be fair, though, her cat had intruded on his domain, so… “Right. Come on, Ginger.”

  The big cat didn’t shift, just sat there and snarled when she wrapped an arm around his hefty girth and lifted him up.

  Used to his empty threats, Shea straightened to find that Aaron was now standing beside her watching her beloved pet intently. She could practically feel the poised tension running through that tall, muscled, and extremely well-put together body.

  Oops. He thought Ginger was going on the attack. “He’s fine, really.”

  “He’s growling.”

  “He’s all growl no bite. Well, most times.”

  “This time?”

  “Showing off. No bite.”

  Aaron looked down at her.

  Hugging Ginger to her, Shea smiled.

  Swivelling fluidly, he leaned his hips back against the desk, placing his hands each side of muscled jean-clad thighs to rest lightly on the desk. Then he just sat watching her.

  She sure felt the silent weight of his regard. “Do I pass muster?”

  “Do you need to?”

  “I’m not sure. You’re studying me intently.”

  “Feeling guilty, Miss Winters?”

  “Donahue,” she returned tartly. “Miss Donahue. And you needn’t call me Stella.”

  “I won’t, because you’re not.”

  Her he
art picked up pace but she kept her expression calm. “Bad case of mistaken identity, Mr Wells.”

  “Nope.”

  “Yep.” She shifted the hefty bulk of Ginger in her arms, where he flopped heavily with his front paws dangling while he contemplated the grey carpet. Damn, he was heavy. “I’m not who you think I am.”

  Aaron’s pale blue eyes practically dissected her.

  With a huff, she turned on her heel. “Sorry Ginger intruded. He shouldn’t have gotten out of the house for at least a couple of weeks. I’ll make sure Cole double-checks the doors when he goes through them.”

  She hadn’t taken two paces when Aaron said quietly, “Cole Winters, sixteen years old. Brother to Shea Winters who passes herself off as a psychic, medium and clairvoyant.”

  A chill went through her but she kept walking.

  “Its not easy being a whistleblower, is it?”

  That had her stopping cold. A prickle went through her, apprehension turning her blood icy. “I - I’m not-”

  “Shea Winters disappeared in NSW and Stella Donahue appeared here in WA.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Palms decidedly sweaty, she started forward again.

  “Deny it as many times as you like, Shea,” Aaron said smoothly. “You are who you are, I know who you are, I know what you are. That’ll never change.”

  Annoyance swelled up to join the fear. Swinging around, she glared at him. “You’ve investigated me, haven’t you?”

  His calm expression didn’t change. “You were hired by Elspeth Arkwell for the grand opening. She hired me for security.”

  “You think I’m a security risk?” The nerve!

  “My job was to do background checks on every person attending that opening night. The Premier was there, a lot of VIPs. Like every employee, you were checked.”

  There he was, lounging back against the desk, looking at her so damned calmly while boldly stating he’d had her background checked. Worse, he knew what she was, what she’d done. Anger bit at her. He had the power to destroy the life she had built for her and Cole.

  But only if she admitted it.

  No sooner had the thought flashed through her mind than he added quietly, “I know who you are, what you did, and what you’re doing now.”

  Unconsciously, her hold on Ginger tightened. With an annoyed meow, he started to struggle. God love Ginger, he’d just saved her from having to answer or acknowledge what the tall, handsome bastard perched so smugly on his very-fine arse had stated.