by Ivy Layne
"This is Lily Spencer. I—my husband—my former husband—I'm a widow—uh, told me to call you if there was ever any trouble. I live—we live—I live up in Maine, and we've had some break-ins. Uh, I think. The police haven’t found anything, but tonight someone got in. Turned off the alarm. I don't know what to do. I don't know if you can help, but he said if anything ever happened I should call you, so I'm calling. Please, if you could call me back I'd appreciate it. Again, this is Lily Spencer."
She rattled off a phone number, then her name again, and the number a second time before she said a quick goodbye and hung up.
Evers looked at Cooper. "Who the fuck is Lily Spencer?"
Cooper tossed a manila folder in the middle of the conference table. Evers reached over to flip it open, and a woman stared back at us. I'd been right, she was about my age.
Deep, brown, almond-shaped eyes in a face of tawny-gold skin. She wore her dark hair in a long, sleek bob that brushed her shoulders, a prim strand of pearls around her neck, diamond studs in her ears, and what looked like a cashmere twin set.
She stood beside a man about her age with white-blond hair in a dark suit. His arm was around her shoulders, his eyes relaxed and happy. Though she wore a polite smile, her eyes were strained. Worried. The picture had been printed from a newspaper article. The caption below read: Trey and Lily Spencer at the Literacy Foundation Fundraiser.
Knox left the window and resumed his seat at the table, reaching out to drag Lily Spencer's file in front of him. He picked up the picture and set it to the side before flipping through the contents of the folder.
"Lily Spencer, recently widowed," Cooper said. “Her husband, Trey Spencer, was tied up with dad in this adoption business. And more. One of the shell companies comes back to him, in part."
"How did he die?" Evers asked, his brow furrowed as he watched Knox scanning Lily Spencer's file, his hand over her husband’s face, his fingers grazing her hair.
Something about the picture tugged at me. She looked… trapped.
I don't know why she struck me that way. Why that word jumped into my head. Trapped. There was tension in her eyes. Something about the set of her chin.
Cooper answered, “Funny thing, that. Car accident. Almost exactly like Dad's, except this time, they found the body."
"So we’re sure Trey Spencer is really dead?" Griffen asked.
"Very sure. And it looks like his widow is in trouble."
"I'll go to Maine," Knox said in a low rumble, his eyes absorbing the file, his hand still on Lily Spencer's picture.
"Fine. Go over anything you need to hand off with Riley before you make arrangements. I'll call Lily Spencer back and tell her we’re sending you up."
Cooper laid his hand on the table. He looked at Evers and me. "You two go track down Smokey. We need to find him before we run out of time.”
"I can't," I said immediately.
Cooper narrowed his dark eyes on me, and the force of will in them had me halfway to agreeing to do whatever he wanted. It was clear that Cooper Sinclair was not used to refusal.
I kept my mouth shut. He wasn’t going to glare me into compliance. I wasn't an employee.
I already had a boss, and she expected me at her side every day for the next few months, not bopping all over the place trying to find my errant father.
"I can't leave Cynthia. I have a job. I promised her I’d be at Rycroft.”
“I’ll stay with Cynthia,” Griffen said as if that were the end of the subject.
"No, it's not the same. You can replace Evers, I guess, but I'm her assistant. You can't do my job. She needs me."
"She's going to have to do without you," Cooper said, obviously considering the subject closed.
"Cooper, I can't just quit my job with Cynthia." I turned to look at Griffen. "Why can't you go looking for my dad?"
"No. Griffen stays here," Cooper said.
This time his tone was so final I snapped my mouth shut, at a loss for what to say.
I was not going to be organized by Cooper Sinclair. I wanted to help, but I wasn't going to torpedo my career and let down my best client just because Cooper said so.
"I'll talk to Cynthia," Evers said. "It'll be okay. I promise."
I was almost willing to believe Evers could charm Cynthia into letting us leave for a few days. But I still didn't understand. “Why can't Griffen—"
"Griffen stays here," Evers said in the same final tone Cooper had used.
I glanced at Griffen, prepared to challenge him again until I saw his teeth grind together, his dark green eyes flat and cold.
Okay, Griffen was staying here.
Again, I was missing the subtext. I'd badger Evers into filling me in later.
“Evers, I need you to fix it with Cynthia. I don't want to run out on her. Partly because I don't want to screw up this job and partly because she's my friend and I won’t let her down."
Evers tugged my chair closer to his. The wheels shifted until they aligned, then rolled me easily toward him until we were right next to each other. He hugged an arm around me and kissed my temple. "I promise, I’ll handle it. Griffen can do this. I have to go, and I'm not leaving you behind."
"You won't leave me behind, but you’ll leave Cynthia with Griffen?"
"I think we proved last night that whoever's been breaking in wasn’t after Cynthia. They were after you."
"After my laptop," I corrected, "not that it will do them any good."
"You don't know that," Griffen cut in. "He would have been a fool to try to take you with the house that crowded. Who knows what would have happened if he’d bumped into you on a late-night kitchen raid? No one else around, the house quiet. Maybe his plan was to take the laptop and phone and run. Or maybe he was going to grab them, hide out in the house somewhere, and come for you later. You should go with Evers. A moving target is harder to catch."
I stared at Griffen, at a complete loss for words. I thought about my father, here and there and everywhere. Atlanta, Maine, Asheville, and who knew where else.
A moving target was harder to catch.
At the idea that the intruder might have hidden in a closet and come out in the dark of night to find me while I slept… I shuddered.
Resigned, I gave Griffen my sternest look and said, “Keep Clive away from her until we get back. I know she said she was going to meet with him, but that does not happen while we’re gone. Promise me. You don't know him. He's got a silver tongue, and she’s still half in love with him. She’s not seeing him without me there."
"I promise. I'll hold him off until you get back."
"And keep her out of trouble."
“Now that, I can't promise," Griffen said with a grin
“Try," I pressed. Griffen sat back in his chair, a laugh in his eyes, the dark look wiped away as if I'd imagined it. "I'll sacrifice myself to the cause if I have to."
"Poor Griffen, trapped in a castle with the closest thing to a princess we have around here. We all weep for you." Cooper said sarcastically.
Griffen laughed again and flicked a coffee stirrer across the table at his boss. Cooper fielded it before it smacked him in the forehead. Pushing back his chair, he said, “All right, let's get moving. Until this jackass gives me a timeline, we have to assume the hammer could come down at any minute. Axel, we’ll get you down to Florida this afternoon. Knox, get ready to head to Maine. If Lily Spencer has any information we can use, we don't want whoever is after her to take her out before we get there. And Evers, Summer…" He trailed off, searching for the right words. "Good luck."
Good luck. We were going to need it.
Chapter Twenty
Summer
My overnight bag sat on the back seat of the car, stuffed with everything I thought I might need for a few days away. Since I had no clue what we were doing, I might have overpacked. I like to be prepared.
Beside my bag was another, holding a brand-new laptop and phone. Cooper had handed them to me before we'd left the Sinclair
offices, saying, "It's our fault you need these. No one should have breached Rycroft. If you don't like them, let Evers know and we'll upgrade."
I'd checked on the drive back to Rycroft. The phone was the newest model and the laptop was a serious improvement on the one that had been stolen the night before.
"Evers, this is too much," I'd protested.
"Don't argue. Cooper was right. It was our fault your things were taken. Replacing them is the least we can do."
"Would you do this for another client?"
A quick, hot glance. "You're not a client, Summer. You're mine. Don't argue."
I was his.
I decided not to argue.
I have no idea what Evers said to Cynthia, but she waved us off, standing at the open front door, her arm looped through Griffen’s, smiling widely. A few days before, she'd flipped out at the idea of Evers leaving long enough to take me to the stationery shop. Today, she was perfectly fine with both of us abandoning her.
"What did you say to her?"
"I told her you had a personal problem and we had to sort it out."
I gave him the side eye. There was no way it had been that simple. "What did you have to promise her? You're not sleeping with her. I hope she knows that."
Evers laughed, taking his eyes from the road just long enough to catch my gaze. "You know I'm not sleeping with her."
"I know, but what did you promise her? I know you had to promise something."
"A huge discount," Evers admitted.
"How huge?" I asked, suspiciously. Cynthia liked her luxury, but she was sharp about money.
"Let's just say we’ll be taking a loss on the job. And I might have thrown Griffen in her path."
"Newsflash, she already noticed Griffen." Cynthia had an eye for attractive men, and she’d have to be blind to miss Griffen. I was crazy for Evers, and I could still appreciate Griffen’s roguish grin and distinctive green eyes. Not to mention his body… Not that I’d looked. Much.
"She's not going to do anything about it, you know,” Evers said. “Cynthia, I mean, and Griffen."
"No, she won't," I agreed. "She likes to flirt, but I don't think she's been with anyone since Clint. I think she would have slept with you. I think having a history made her feel more comfortable."
“Wasn't going to happen," Evers said flatly.
He shot another glance in my direction. He was worried I didn’t believe him. I reached out and slid my hand to his thigh, squeezing lightly.
"I know that, Evers."
"As long as we have that straight."
He rested his hand on top of mine, keeping it in place on his leg. I drew circles, figure eights, and little hearts with my fingertip, my knuckles brushing his cock through the fabric of his pants.
"Are you going to tease me the whole drive?"
"Maybe. Do you want me to stop?"
"Fuck, no." He took his eyes off the road and turned his heavy-lidded gaze to me. "I wish all of this wasn't going on," he said. "I wish I could take you somewhere, just the two of us, and forget about the rest of it.”
"Later," I promised. "When this is over we’ll take a vacation."
"Absolutely." He glanced down at my feet, encased in pink, scrappy wedge sandals. "How's your ankle? Should you be wearing those shoes? I don't want you to trip and make it worse."
I rotated my ankle in a slow circle. It was a little sore, and when I pointed my toe I felt a twinge, but otherwise, it was fine. "It's good. I swear. I felt awful last night, but I think I was more scared than anything."
"You have a bruise on your shoulder," he said, reaching out to run a finger lightly down my shoulder blade.
"It's not that bad."
"It shouldn't have happened. You should have been safe in the house."
I knew where he was going with this. "It wasn't your fault, Evers."
"Of course, it's my fault."
"You can't control everything. I'm fine. Let it go."
The growl in the back of his throat told me that he wasn't going to let it go, but he'd drop the subject. Taking my hand, he watched the road ahead and we let silence fill the SUV.
His thumb rubbed the back of my hand absently, sweetly. This was one of the things I'd always loved about being with Evers. We could talk all night if we wanted to, but the quiet was just as good.
I loved being with him. He filled the space around me with warmth and comfort. With a simmering hint of lust. Sitting beside Evers, I could relax and just be. Daydream about the night to come, anchored by the touch of his hand on mine.
I watched the green hills roll by and finally asked the question that had been bugging me since the meeting at Sinclair Security.
"Why couldn't Griffen make this trip? And don't tell me it's because I'm not safe at the house. The only way that guy got in was because of the party. I know you've got Rycroft Castle on lockdown. You'd never leave Cynthia unprotected, so I don't buy this bullshit about moving targets. What’s the real reason?"
Evers sighed. "I'll tell you, but don't bring it up with Griffen. None of us talk about it."
Now I was intrigued. I liked Griffen. He'd saved Emma after Axel had landed her in an ugly situation, and I'd forever be grateful to him for that. Even if he hadn't saved my best friend’s life, he was a good guy.
Cooper and Evers had shut down any mention of Griffen making this trip to North Carolina. There was a story there.
"I swear," I promised. "I can keep my mouth shut, but now I'm curious."
"Okay. He told us some of this, some we dug up ourselves. Griffen is from a town outside of Asheville. Sawyers Bend."
"Sawyers Bend as in Griffen Sawyer?" I asked.
"Exactly. Griffen is the oldest of seven. Or maybe it's eight."
I winced. Eight kids? "His poor Mom," I murmured.
"Griffen's mother only had two. His Dad went through wives like most men go through shoes. From the little Griffen let slip and everything we dug up, his father is a real bastard. Playing the kids against each other, writing them in and out of his will depending on who kissed his ass the best. A real piece of work. Griffen's family owns half the town, not to mention real estate all over North Carolina. A logging company. One of the last successful textile manufacturers and a thriving furniture and design company. The father keeps all of it under his thumb."
"If he's the heir to all of that, what's Griffen doing working for Sinclair Security?"
"We're not exactly sure," Evers said with a laugh. "He's a little older than me. We met in the Army. Rangers. The best I've been able to put together, he was living his life, doing the Sawyer thing, running the family businesses and dancing to his father's tune, and then he just walked away."
"What happened?"
"No clue. He left, and he's never been back. From what we could find out, the father disinherited him completely, tossed him out and told him never to set foot in Sawyers Bend again. I got the feeling Griffen rode out on a giant fuck you. He doesn't go anywhere near Sawyers Bend or Western North Carolina. Too close to home. We have an understanding. Work that runs in that direction, we give to someone else. He doesn't want to deal with his family. I'm not going to be the one to make him."
"I'm not sure you could make Griffen do anything," I said quietly. Griffen did easy-going charm as well as Evers, but I'd seen that flat, cold look in his eyes. Like Evers, there was a lot more to him than a handsome smile.
"He wasn't going to touch this one. Your dad's place isn't in Asheville. It's outside the city, not that far from Sawyers Bend. We tracked his credit card receipts—"
"How did you get his credit card receipts?" I asked. Wouldn't they need a court order? They weren't the police.
Evers didn't answer.
"You're not going to tell me?"
Evers cleared his throat. "It's not important how we got them. Your dad deals mostly in cash, but when he runs short, he'll pull out the card. There are a few places in Asheville we should check, charges show up often enough that we might be able to fin
d somebody who's seen him. He doesn't spend a lot of time in Sawyers Bend. Too many tourists, not enough places to find trouble, but Griffen wouldn't have wanted to run the risk of dealing with a case at his family's back door."
"Now I kinda want to see this town." I murmured.
"Maybe you will. We'll see how it goes."
It was after dinner time when we rolled into Asheville, the city busy with tourists eager to try one of the many craft breweries or unique restaurants.
We flashed through downtown on the expressway before driving through Beaucatcher Tunnel and ending up on a crowded street lined with chain restaurants and hotels. If not for the backdrop of the Blue Ridge Mountains, we could have been anywhere in America.
Slowing, Evers pulled into a run-down little strip mall in between a big chain steakhouse and a hotel. The strip mall had a pawnshop, a video game store, a nail salon, and a bar creatively named The Bar. The windows were papered over from the inside, and the light above the door was broken.
Evers gave the place a long look. "Maybe we should get a hotel. You can stay in the room. I'll make some stops, see if I can find your dad. We'll go out to dinner first."
"No way in hell. You're not dumping me in some hotel. We're here to find my dad. One look at you and he'll take off running. If he sees me, there's a good chance he'll talk to us. If for nothing else, to try to score some cash."
Evers shook his head "For someone who was getting pretty big payments for his services, your dad seems like he was constantly broke."
My laugh was tired. "That's my dad. Put a dollar in his hand and it's gone a second later. If it hadn't been for my mom, I don't know that I would have had food on the table when I was growing up. He lost money just as easily as he made it."
I scanned Evers in his perfectly-tailored dark suit and crisp white shirt. He was bone meltingly hot, but exactly the kind of man my Dad would run from. Evers radiated command. Control. One look at him and my dad would be gone.
"He's not going to talk to you if he can help it. You'll need me to draw him out."
"All right, fine. You can come in this time."