Latvis Security Services

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Latvis Security Services Page 4

by Lexie Ray


  It didn’t take long for everyone to find a viewpoint around the fence. Jai, Jamie, and Dwayne leaned against the fence in hopeful anticipation, but she couldn’t quite tell if they were hoping that Daren did well or were angling to witness an injury.

  They had underestimated how long it would take to get everything set, and soon their excitement turned to good-natured taunting. Each time, Daren’s first reaction was to flip them off. His second reaction was to realize what he had done, blush, and mutter a few quick words to Sophie that Rebecca couldn’t hear.

  Mads appeared at her elbow. He had a very annoying skill of materializing out of nowhere. He didn’t lean against the fence with the others, but instead remained with his back straight and his hands loosely clasped before him.

  “I spoke with your employer last night,” he said. “I have arranged for the positions we will be taking during the case.”

  Dwayne crossed his fingers. “Clown, clown, clown,” he chanted under his breath.

  Mads closed his eyes briefly. “Yes, I have arranged for you to be a clown.”

  “Yes,” he hissed with a fist pump.

  “Jai shall be stationed as a ride operator while Jamie will be working as part of the haunted house.”

  Rebecca rested her forearms against the top of the fence. “And what will you be doing?”

  “I shall circulate. That way I can be where I’m needed.”

  “No offense, but you don’t really blend into a crowd. At least not our crowd. Won’t he notice you?”

  “That won’t necessarily be a bad thing.”

  “We want this guy to know he’s being hunted?”

  “Sometimes, when done with care, a little bit of pressure can help these situations along.”

  Rebecca tensed. “I need you to catch this guy. I need this to end.”

  “He will be stopped,” Mads assured her.

  He motioned with his chin to draw their attention back to Daren, and she grudgingly let the matter slide. It was still going to gnaw at her, but the whole reason she had sought Mads out was because of his experience with this sort of thing. Experience that she was desperately lacking. What would be the point if she didn’t let him do what he thought was best? She was probably going to have a mental breakdown, but it would be worth it in the end.

  Sophie bobbed as she held onto the fence and watched as Daren took to the saddle. He braced on either side of the chute, straddling the horse while never touching it. The position made it impossible not to notice how tightly his jeans clung to his toned thighs. The horse staggered back and forth, snorting and shaking its head. Daren held most of his weight on his arms, making his exposed biceps swell in a very distracting manner.

  Chastising herself for letting her mind stray, but still unable to prevent herself from taking another look, Rebecca tried to refocus. Daren settled into the saddle. He kept one hand on the fence as he readjusted his grip on the handle. His chest heaved with a few deep breaths as he ignored the now constant heckling from his friends. Then he nodded, and they threw open the door.

  The bronco burst out like it was escaping the gates of hell. It bucked, thrashed, and kicked out its hind legs with a sharp crack. But it only took a few paces for Daren to fall into a rhythm with the animal. He leaned back, muscles straining and body rolling with each blow. Rebecca meant to count off the seconds in her mind to really see if he had what it took, but the display hijacked her brain a little, and she was left just watching him ride. She had no idea how much time had passed when the horse lurched into the air and gave a final, bone-rattling buck, sending Daren over its head and down onto the dirt below.

  Chapter Five

  Daren knew it was going to hurt a split second before he hit the ground. He rolled as best he could with the blow, his joints aching and the air rushing from his lungs. Grinding his teeth, he choked down a gasp as looked up to see a hoof careening toward his head. He rolled to the side just as the hoof cracked down where his head had been, sending up a wave of sand that blinded him for a moment. But he didn’t need to see to remember where the fence was.

  Pushing up to his feet, he bolted for the safety of the fence, the horse still far too close for comfort. The aged wood ground against his palm as he grabbed it with one hand and hurled himself over the railing. He was still getting his footing when the horse drove its hind legs into the wood, effectively splitting it in two. Having finally made impact with something, the horse calmed down and began to lazily trot around in the field.

  “Are you okay?” Jai asked as he ran over.

  Daren had to tell him a dozen times that he was fine, and even after that, the doctor forced him to go through a barrage of tests that all seemed to center around looking out, tracing, or counting his fingers. It took a while, but he finally figured out that Daren was all right, and his concern turned to laughter.

  “That was insane. You know that, right?”

  Daren shrugged and tried to hide the twinge of pain that snaked up his side. Just because nothing was broken didn’t mean that hitting the dirt had been pleasant. Jamie and Dwayne came over with loud laughter and slaps to the back that were more aimed at provoking a reaction than congratulating him.

  Mads remained where he was, looking oddly pleased with himself for a man who hadn’t done anything. It was hard not to notice that Rebecca was standing with Mads. Harder still not to search her face to see what her reaction had been. It didn’t matter what it was. This wasn’t about her, and Daren was far too old to be looking to impress girls like that. Not that he wanted to impress her.

  Back at the chute, Sophie threw her hands up in delight and let out a high-pitched squeal. He offered her a slight wave, just to let her know that he was okay, but felt like an idiot as soon as he lifted his hand.

  “You did very well,” Mads called out to him, smile still in place.

  He shrugged it off and headed back toward the chutes where the second horse was readied and waiting. “Don’t mean much if I can’t do it again.”

  ***

  Willow drummed her fingers against the envelope she had shoved the invoice into as she waited for the elevator doors to open. Watching the numbers brighten and dull, it occurred to her that this was the first time she had ever been to Mads’ offices. His company covered four floors, and she had no idea what he did with most of the space. Tendrils of paranoia had begun to churn in her stomach by the time she approached the top floor.

  Her fingers slid over the envelope, and she wracked her mind for anything that she actually knew about Mads. They had known each other for over a year and spoke nearly every day, but she couldn’t recall much personal information about him at all. He wouldn’t have anything to with this, she thought to herself. You’re losing it.

  The doors opened and snapped her out of her thoughts. There was a cluster of desks in front of her and an open door to her left that looked to open into a boardroom of sorts. Process of elimination made Willow turn to her right. Her shoes echoed as she drew closer to the only door along a small hallway. There were no markings on the polished surface, and she half expected the door to be locked. But it opened easily, and she pushed it wide to peer into the shadows. She groped for a light switch.

  A stunned bubble of laughter escaped her mouth. There was no question who this office belonged to. The only real question was how much money he had put into it. A large, antique desk was in the middle of the room. On one side was a large glob encrusted with mother of pearl and shiny stones. The wall behind it was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. On the other side was a small bar complete with crystal glasses.

  A twin pair of wingback chairs were positioned to her side, with an old record player nestled in between them. Probably the most extravagant feature was the painting that ran the length of every exposed wall. Done in the Renaissance style, it seemed to show a whole tale, played out from beginning to end. It also contained a lot more nudity than Willow would have thought appropriate for work.

  “Seriously?” she muttered to herself a
s she moved to the desk.

  She tossed the envelope down and meant to turn to leave, but her feet remained rooted to the floor. As much as she tried to push it aside, she couldn’t fight the constant chatter in her mind that she had the perfect opportunity to have a look around.

  Willow forced herself to turn around. This would be way too weird, wrong, and honestly a bit illegal. But she still couldn’t get her feet to move. Now that the notion that Mads could be helping him to send her the letters was in her head, she couldn’t force it out. It sat on her brain and seeped into her every thought. What if he was and she had a chance, right here and now, to put an end to it? With a growing sense of self-loathing, Willow slipped behind the desk and began to check through the drawers of the desk.

  The contents within each one were neatly stacked and organized. It even looked like the pencils were sharpened to the same height. Unsure of what exactly she was looking for, she moved to the next drawer and found it locked. She bit down on her bottom lip and glanced up to the letter opener. Her hand snaked out to grab it.

  “I could just give you the key.”

  Willow screamed and snapped up to find Mads at the door. His stature swallowed the space of the threshold as effectively as the door would have. For a moment, he stood in silence, his eyes burning into hers and his face blank.

  “It’s a rather expensive desk.” She had thought that the tension welling in her chest would disappear if he broke the silence, but it only made it worse. “I’d hate for you to ruin it.”

  “Is there any excuse I can give at this point? One that preferably doesn’t lead to criminal charges?”

  “We can discuss that later,” he said as he stepped into the room. “Right now, I’m more interested in learning what it is that you were looking for.”

  “So am I.”

  “Does this have something to do with the matter that you refuse to discuss with me?” He peeled off his jacket and draped it over the back of one of the chairs.

  “Kinda,” she cringed.

  Mads looked at her for a long moment. She didn’t know what he was seeing or what he was really looking for, and he gave her no hint. Closing her eyes, she clenched her jaw.

  “Look. I know it doesn’t make any of this okay, but I’ve just got this thing going on right now, and it got me thinking that I don’t know you. Not really. And I got a little paranoid and did something stupid. I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  Mads tilted his head toward the bar. “Stay for a drink?”

  “What?”

  “If this lapse of judgement came about due to our lack of conversation, perhaps we should rectify that.”

  He was already picking out a record to put on, his back to Willow. For a moment, she wondered if she could just bolt out the door, but eventually, she went to the bar and poured two glasses of what she assumed was cognac.

  “This is a little extravagant for an office, don’t you think?”

  “I like to feel comfortable,” he said as he fiddled with the device. “And I am the only one who comes in here.”

  “Right.”

  Glasses in hand, she turned back to him. Without looking at her, he put down the record needle and the strands of a complex, classical piece wafted into the air.

  She smirked. “Of course.”

  Mads sank down into one of the chairs and gestured for her to take the other. “To what are you referring?”

  “You couldn’t be an AC/DC fan, huh?”

  He took the glass she offered him and then Willow gingerly sat down, afraid to mess up the chair that was obviously more expensive than anything she owned.

  “You don’t care for the music?”

  “It’s fine. I’m just not one for…I actually don’t know who this is.”

  “Schubert.”

  “Right.”

  He studied her for a moment before he licked his lips and tilted his head back against the chair.

  “It reminds me of home,” he said softly, his eyes glazing over as he stared into the distance. For a moment, she was sure he had forgotten that she was there. “I grew up with beauty. Art, poetry, theater, but predominantly, music. My parents both adored music. This piece was one of my father’s favorites.” A small smile crossed his face, sad and wistful. “We had a game when I was very small. They would play a piece and would, without warning, change a few of the notes. If I could pinpoint the change, they would give me a sweet.”

  Willow slowly slipped at the drink and was startled to find how smooth it was.

  “You’re either lying, way older than I think you are, or you guys were really rich,” she eventually said.

  Mads watched her for a long moment before he smiled.

  “I don’t mean to offend,” she said.

  “No offense taken,” Mads said. “And now you can say that you know something about me. Something personal.”

  “I can. But it does open up a lot more questions.”

  “Isn’t that the way of the world?” He swirled the contents of his glass before he took a sip. “I believe it is your turn, Willow.”

  “What now?”

  “Friendship requires mutual effort. I went first. Now it’s your turn.”

  Willow took another drink and tried to find something she could share that wasn’t overly personal.

  “When I was a kid, I was kind of obsessed with fairies. I was convinced that I was going to grow up and finally find them.”

  “What happened to that passion?”

  She shrugged. “I grew up.”

  “Such a shame,” he said. “Passion should always be a driving force of our lives.”

  Willow met his eyes, “That depends on what your passion is. Unchecked passion can be a very dangerous thing.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, “it can be.”

  “Besides, fairies aren’t real.”

  Mads smiled and took another mouthful of his drink. “I find this quite pleasant. We should do it more often.”

  Willow knew that there was a catch looming on the horizon, but with the warmth of the cognac in her stomach and the soft tune in her ears, she couldn’t really pinpoint what it might be.

  “Yeah, we really should.”

  “We might actually work our way to friendship.”

  She smiled. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  Chapter Six

  There had been very few times in Daren’s life when he didn’t know exactly how he had gotten into a certain situation. He had no idea where along the line he had agreed to give Sophie a ride back to the carnival. But here he was, heading miles out of his way down the back roads, heading toward the carnival area with Sophie and Rebecca following in her truck. And he still couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the tide had turned.

  It hadn’t taken as long as Daren had expected to put Rebecca’s fears about his skills at ease. It had actually taken him a lot longer to convince Dwayne not to get on one of the broncos himself. Luckily, Jai had been there. Using his perfect bedside manner, Jai had convinced Dwayne to try riding Poe first. It had been one of his brighter ideas since it turned out that the guy couldn’t ride to save his life and somehow got bucked off when Poe was just walking.

  Eventually, everything was set up and all the arrangements were made for them to move out into the carnival site the next day. That was when Sophie had gotten it into her head that she wanted to ride his motorcycle back. Daren had been sure that Rebecca would bring that whole line of thought to a quick end. There was no way he could have expected that she would just smile and ask him if that would be okay. Now, that just wasn’t fair. It had opened up a floodgate of begging and puppy eyes that he didn’t have the training or skill to stand against. And the whole time, Rebecca had just stood there, watching Sophie work away on his resistance, a smile curving her full lips.

  Somewhere along the line, he must have caved and scrounged up a helmet that was small enough for the kid. The long handles of the bike left enough room for Sophie to fit comfortably in
front of him while still allowing him to steer. With the roar of the engine and the rushing air, he hadn’t been able to hear Sophie’s delighted laughter until they were pulling up into the open field. Trailers and still-folded carnival rides covered the lush, green grass. Large floodlights had been set up to form a makeshift stadium. They looked alien among the otherwise pleasant meadow and machines designed to have an old-world charm.

  The sunset still dominated the sky, leaving the floodlights useless for now. Shades of pink and orange streaked uninterrupted over the field as people began to settle in for the evening. Scents of a dozen dinners cooking hovered in the air and made Daren’s stomach growl as he steered them closer to the main cluster of caravans and personal trailers.

  The thunderous sound of his bike instantly grabbed the attention of everyone who was milling about. The second they saw Sophie, they instantly began to wander toward them with concern sparking over their faces. Daren had the idle thought that he might actually be witnessing the beginnings of an angry mob. He was just starting to plan out strategies to get Sophie out of harm’s way when Rebecca pulled up behind them. All she had to do was give people a smile and a wave and they went back to what they had been doing.

  Deciding that there wasn’t going to be a need for a quick getaway, Daren braced his feet on the soft grass and turned off the engine. Was Rebecca really having problems getting these people to close ranks? Even if they weren’t willing to jump on board with the unseen threat, they at least seemed willing to fight for Sophie when they saw a present danger. That was encouraging. Although, he guessed Rebecca bringing in some hired professionals would have made the situation all the more real for them.

  “Did you have fun, baby?” Rebecca asked as she came up beside them.

  Sophie beamed up at her mother, never loosening her grip on the bike. “Can I get one of these?”

  Rebecca shook her head. “Maybe when you’re older.”

  “How old?”

  “Forty.”

  “Twenty,” Sophie countered.

  Rebecca laughed and hooked her hands under Sophie’s arms, trying to lift her from the bike. Sophie clutched onto the handlebars with renewed force.

 

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