Mace: Lighthouse Security & Investigations

by Maryann Jordan

  “And just why not? You’ve spent your entire adult life working for the defense of our country, at the expense of your own social life. You’ve now spent the last several years building this company, literally from below the ground up. I just hate to see you devote everything to your work, and not leave any room to take care of your heart.”

  Shaking his head, he replied, “Gotta admit, what you and Horace have is pretty cool to watch. But from what I saw from my parents, relationships aren’t that easy and when they go south, they can go really bad.”

  “Sounds to me like you’re just scared.”

  “Damn, woman. Those’re fightin’ words.”

  Grabbing the dishtowel from the counter, she tossed it at his head, but he threw his hand up, catching it deftly. Walking around the counter, she grabbed her purse and coat. “Well, you may have won this battle,” she quipped, “but I’m in for the long haul. One of these days, I hope to see you settled like me and Horace.” With that she headed out the door, to meet Horace at their car.

  He watched her leave and his smile slowly faded from his face. He was not opposed to having a relationship…a good relationship…he just had no idea how to go about it. An image of the beautiful woman from this morning ran through his mind and a chuckle slipped from his lips. Hair falling from the low ponytail, her subtle makeup playing up her features, her perfect curves, and her chest covered in his coffee. Shaking his head, he thought, If I keep making first impressions like that, I’ll never have a relationship!

  Sylvie lay awake, listening to David’s slow, even breaths, as he finally slept. Terrified of being alone, he had quickly crawled into her bed. With the radio playing soft music and the night light casting a gentle illumination about the room, she finally coaxed his exhausted body to sleep.

  Her thoughts swirled until she thought she would go mad. Mr. Thomas’ irrational accusations and demands. The bad luck of not being able to find a babysitter that day. Her son being just slightly ill enough to not be in school. It was as though everything had conspired on that day to create a disaster.

  As she had gotten changed for bed she had pulled off her forgotten, borrowed shirt and thought of the man who had given it to her. Rolling her eyes, she wondered what he must have thought of her. He was one of the most virile men she had ever met. Her ex-husband liked to think he was God’s gift to women, but he had nothing on the tall, dark, handsome man whose shirt she now had. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if she had gotten his contact information whether she would have been able to see him again to return the shirt.

  Groaning, she forced thoughts of him out of her mind, instead wondering about the scene her son had witnessed. Were the two men actually fighting, or were they just roughhousing? Did a crime happen, or was it some kind of stupid joke that her unsuspecting son happened to see? Or, did he witness an assault? And, if so, what happened to the man who had been attacked?

  She could not say that Detective Tragg had been rude or overly dismissive, but as soon as his other officers reported that they did not see any evidence of a crime, it was clear he thought David either made it up or did not understand what he saw. So, will they investigate further? Will they look for a missing man?

  As the minutes rolled by, and sleep did not come, she decided that neither she, nor David, would leave the house the next day. It would be Friday, and since he had been sent home sick, the teachers would not expect him to be there anyway. And, after the way Mr. Thomas had spoken to her, she needed an extra day to not have to look at his face.

  Willing her mind to clear, she hoped that someone would care enough to see if a crime had been committed.

  Unable to sleep, Mace went down to the compound and sat down at the computer. He liked the camaraderie and energy when his employees were here, but also liked the quiet solitude. Scanning through police reports, he set the parameters to the state level to begin with, planning on moving to national reports later.

  With a practiced eye, he quickly read and dismissed most taglines until he came to one that caught his attention. A boy reported seeing an assault in a building under construction. If it had not been for the word boy he would have continued scrolling, but he stopped and read the entire report.

  Office building. Man in suit. Man in construction vest. Both in hard hats. Size of men…description of men…cell phone…fight…rope around neck…larger man carrying out the first. For the boy to be eight years old, the details gave credence to his story. He scanned the report from the attending officers who searched the building but came up with nothing.

  Shaking his head, he wondered what he was doing. LSI worked nationally and internationally on high profile cases…and I make notes on a child’s report of an assault? But, he had a sixth sense about cases and this one sent his spidey senses tingling.

  He hesitated, fingers over the keyboard, then clicked save and marked the file to look at the next day.

  Staying awake for another half hour, he continued to search, saving a few more cases to keep an eye on, before going back up the elevator, and then climbing the stairs to his bedroom. His room, on the back of the house near the lighthouse tower, had a large window facing the water. It reminded him of his room at his grandfather’s house, a mile up the road. He now owned that property as well, but only stayed there occasionally, preferring the nearness of the LSI compound. Staring out the window, the lights sparkling off the inky water, eased the tension he felt in the back of his neck.

  His mind cast back to when he was a child looking out his window one night. There had been a boat moving close to the shore, and then two men on board dropped something heavy into the surf. When he woke his father to tell him, he yelled at him to get back to bed and stop bothering him. The next day, his father punished him for telling ‘whoppers’, but he knew what he had seen. He had recounted the tale to his grandfather, who immediately combed the shore to see if he could find anything.

  Sighing heavily, he thought of the police report he had just read. Since when do I let a childhood memory affect my job? Climbing into bed, he pushed both the report and the past from his mind. Rolling over, sleep finally overtook him, but his dreams were a twisted mesh of childhood memories that slid into memories of his time in the Army…times he would rather forget.

  It was only two o’clock in the afternoon, but Sylvie was dragging. Little sleep and large nerves had a tension headache blooming. She watched David carefully, afraid to leave him alone. It was obvious that he was anxious.

  He ate little and was unusually quiet. No fever, no stomach ache, but his eyes darted around at every sound and she would catch him staring off into space, a heart-wrenching expression on his face as terror passed through his eyes.

  Distracting him with ice cream, she was startled when he suddenly asked, “Do you think the police will get to the hurt man in time?”

  Licking the dollop of ice cream off her bottom lip as she pondered how to answer, she finally said, slowly, “Well…I hope so. Uh…if he was hurt, then maybe the other man got help for him.”

  Her son’s face registered doubt for a moment but he stayed quiet and continued to eat his ice cream.

  She battled with what to say, her mother’s mind for once coming up empty and with no one to turn to, she felt alone for the millionth time since becoming a mother. Before she had a chance to speak, he looked up, more doubt in his eyes.

  “What if the man was dead?” he asked, his voice a whisper.

  Deciding not to lie, she said, “I don’t know, baby. I don’t know.”

  Neither spoke as they finished eating. Standing at the kitchen sink, rinsing out the bowls, she watched as he went into the fenced-in backyard to play. He moved to the old swing set that was there when they moved into the house and quietly swung back and forth. Deciding she did not want to leave him alone with his thoughts for too long, she finished the dishes and moved to the door to join him.

  Their house was on the corner and from her vantage point she could see a dark SUV parked down the street
that she did not recognize. The neighborhood was an older one and they had little through traffic…and certainly not parked, tinted-windowed SUVs. Her hand rested on the door handle, unease creeping through her as she tried to convince herself she was being paranoid.

  Unable to cease the fear slithering along her spine, she opened the door and called, “David, come in.”

  He turned his face toward her, his feet dragging on the ground to slow his swing. She watched as he opened his mouth to protest, but she jumped in, “I’ve got a surprise to show you.”

  Intrigued, he hopped from the swing and headed toward her. Her mind raced as to what surprise she could have for him. He stepped inside the house and peered up at her in expectation as she quickly shut the door.

  “Uh…how about we go to a movie today?”

  “On a school day, when I’m supposed to be home sick?”

  Jesus, he’s thinking more responsibly than I am! “Uh…yeah. I guess since yesterday was so hard on you, I think today needs to be special.”

  He nodded enthusiastically and she sent him off to get his jacket. Sagging against the doorframe, she glanced back out and with dismay saw the SUV still there. Refusing to look at it anymore, she hurried to check the movie lists as they headed out the door. I hope there’s a kid-friendly movie playing at the theater!

  Four hours later, they were back in the house and she was sitting on the sofa, shivering deep inside, while David was upstairs taking a bath. She had watched the black SUV follow at a distance when she drove to the theater at the mall. Once inside, she barely watched the movie as her eyes continually drifted to the door to see if some large, burly man with a gun had walked in. Even knowing her imagination was in overdrive, she could not stop.

  Back in the car, she did not see anyone following and convinced herself that she had dreamed the entire sequence of events. David smiled often since leaving the theater and appeared more relaxed than earlier, which was a relief. With a deep breath out, she got up and headed into the kitchen to fix dinner, when she noticed the black SUV drive slowly down the street before it parked in the same place again.

  No longer worried about what the police might think of her, she walked into the living room and grabbed her phone. Asking for Detective Tragg, she chewed her fingernail as she waited. He came on the line and she reported everything she had seen.

  “Did you get the license tag number?”

  “Oh…no, it was too far away.”

  “Can you see it now? Maybe take a picture with your phone?”

  She hurried to the kitchen to look out the window over the sink, but the SUV was no longer parked there. “It’s gone.”

  She heard the exasperation in his voice but he promised to add her call to his report. Disconnecting, she alternated between cursing her stupidity for not getting the license number and the police, for putting it all on her. Rubbing her aching head, she went around and double checked each window and door, making sure she and David were locked in tight for the night.

  6

  Mace looked up from the table as several more of his men walked in. Seeing Blake, he grinned his welcome before starting the briefing.

  Blake, newly returned from a mission in California, reported, “I’ll finish writing my notes up this afternoon—”

  The others interrupted with chuckles at that pronouncement. They all hated paperwork, but Blake especially did. Flipping them off, he continued, “But, it all went like clockwork. I managed to get the Mexican Ambassador’s daughter off the vessel she was on. The passengers all looked like a bunch of goddamn reprobates, but she kept swearing they were friends.”

  “You think she’ll stay out of trouble?” Drew asked, slurping down his hot coffee, fresh from the pot.

  Blake grimaced and said, “I’d like to think that since the boat was overtaken by pirates, a few of which were killed before the Mexican police showed up and whoever was still alive is now sitting in a Mexican jail, woulda shaken her up.” Lifting his heavy shoulders, he said, “I talked to her, but who the fuck knows.”

  Mace nodded, saying, “We got her out of a dangerous situation that she put herself in. I’ll let the Ambassador know he needs to bring her to heel, or we might not be able to save her next time she gets a wild hair.” Looking back down at his tablet, he asked, “Cobb?”

  Rank, running his hand through his still damp hair, said, “Got a message this morning saying the security for the Senator’s mansion is up and running. He wants to recheck some items this morning and will be in this afternoon.”

  “Problems?”

  “Don’t think so, but the Senator’s got a couple of kids and his wife is extra nervous and wants all precautions taken. It seems the Senator’s far-reaching politics has certain extremist groups upset.”

  Nodding, he asked, “How was the run?”

  Rank grinned, saying, “Reminds me of SEAL training. I ran along the coast then decided to do a little swim in the ocean.”

  “Little?”

  “Ah hell, just a few miles,” Rank replied, puffing out his chest in mock self-admiration.

  A few balled-up pieces of paper were thrown and he tried to bat them as they came, succeeding only part of the time.

  “Tate, get your report to Babs before she has a coronary. We’re almost at the end of the month and she’s got to get the invoices out.”

  Tate nodded, but grimaced, as he held up his hands. “I got hands that can fire a weapon, eyesight that can spot a mission from a further distance than most people, but trying to type out a goddamn report makes my teeth hurt.”

  “If you just dictate your notes in a way that I can understand what the fuck you’re talking about, I’ll type them up,” Babs yelled from across the room.

  Tate’s eyes opened wide, mischief clear in them, until Mace said, “Don’t even think about it. Or at least not until I can hire someone else we can trust to work on reports. Babs is overworked as it is, just doing everything else I got her doing. So, get your reports in. Everybody.”

  He looked down, scrolling through the tablet to see what else was coming up. Just as he was getting ready to end the meeting, sending everyone to their assignments, Rank spoke up.

  “You got a note here from last night about some police chatter. Anything I need to look into?”

  He rubbed his hand over his jaw. “Nah, just something that caught my eye. Nothing major…it sort of stuck with me. I decided to mark it for future notification and thought I’d work on it today.”

  Nodding, Rank said, “Okay, no problem. I just saw another notification has come in for that one. I’ll let you check it out.”

  He acknowledged the information and after a few more minutes discussing assignments, everyone was dismissed to go about their day’s work. Immediately moving to his computer, he looked up the new notification. There was not much in it, as it looked like the detective in charge was in a rush. So, the mother of the child who thought he saw an assault, reports that a strange vehicle was parked outside their house and had followed them. His brow crinkled in concern. The detective didn’t think this was a reason to check things out?

  Shaking his head, he knew the situation probably did not warrant LSI’s involvement, but he could not get the report out of his mind.

  “David! Let’s go!”

  “Mom, where are my cleats?”

  “In my hands.”

  Sylvie stood at the bottom of the steps, David’s cleats dangling from one hand, her purse in the other as she checked her keys and cell phone. David came flying down the stairs, his baseball uniform on, his eyes bright with excitement. She hadn’t seen that look in several days and was glad to see it back on his face.

  “Help me out, sweetie. Grab the snack bag off the kitchen counter.”

  Before he had a chance to move, her phone rang. She looked down, and said, “Oh, it’s Julie.” Answering the phone, she snapped her fingers to get David’s attention, and mouthed, Get your extra cleats out of the mudroom. A moment later, she disconnected just as Da
vid came running back in. “Thanks. Calvin was already on his way to practice when his mom realized he didn’t have his cleats and she can’t get there right now. I assume it’s okay if he wears your extra pair?”

  “Sure!” he enthused, running toward the front door. “Let’s go!”

  Once at the ballfield, David ran off to find his friends and teammates and she settled into the camp chair that she brought, sitting next to the other parents. For the next two hours, she tried to forget her worries and everything that happened over the past several days. Focusing on cheering for the children and David’s smile, she felt better.

  As the game ended and he ran over to her, she suggested, “How about hamburgers?”

  He jumped up and down and she smiled at his enthusiasm. Kids recuperate so much faster than adults!

  An hour later she and David pulled into their driveway. She glanced over at her son and could not help but smile. He seemed less traumatized than the previous days and, with no sight of the mysterious, dark SUV, she hoped their nightmare was over.

  “Put your cleats in your room, honey,” she said, as they climbed out of the car and walked to the front door.

  “Sure Mom.”

  Stepping into the entry foyer of their small home, she immediately threw her hand out to the side to keep him from barreling into the house. Her eyes wide, she looked around in suspicion. Nothing was overtly out of place, but she instinctively knew that someone had been in the house. The pictures hung at slight angles on the wall. Her magazines that had been spread out across the coffee table, were now stacked. “David, take my hand.”

  “Mom, what is it?”

  “I just want to check through the house a little bit,” she replied, hoping he did not hear the quaking in her voice. “I’d like you with me.”

  They moved together into the kitchen, where she had the same feeling. To anyone else, the room looked normal. To her, she knew someone had been there. Making David stay in the kitchen, with promises of cookies, she hurried upstairs, finding the same thing. Noticing the clothes in her closet pushed to one side, she clutched her stomach, the sight of her things having been touched by an intruder cutting into her.