Embattled Return (Lost And Found Book 6)

by J. M. Madden

  4

  John glanced in the rearview mirror again, Shannon’s knowing smile a damn siren song to him. She looked stunning, as always, and he couldn’t wait to get her alone. If he could just lay in bed with her for a few minutes...

  That was their precious time, in the depths of the night after the kids had finally crashed or in the haze of morning before they got up to wreak havoc. The two of them didn’t even need to make love. Just laying there in the bed looking into her eyes filled his heart with more emotion than he’d ever felt with any other human being. It was more than he ever wanted to admit. When his mother left him as a child, he had had to learn the hard way to rely only on himself, no one else. Shannon was the only person that had broken through that barrier. And he was so glad he had finally let her.

  It was her choice to go to work today, because that was the kind of person she was. She knew the big Columbus planning meeting had been scheduled for today and had wanted to sit in and take notes, though the entire thing would be recorded for dictation later. She liked to be in the middle of the planning and more often than not, Duncan pulled her in anyway, just for her insight in logistics. As the primary office manager, Shannon managed resources for almost twenty-five men and women, which included their health insurance, payroll, and five million other things he was sure he had no idea of. She found the men apartments, chased down problems and was basically indispensable.

  Luckily, they’d recently hired Shannon an assistant, Marigold Lee. Though she’d settled in well, the girl had only been there a few weeks. John was sure that Shannon wanted to check on her progress and make sure everything had gone smoothly in her absence.

  John sighed as he thought about Marigold. What a mess that had been. Every time he rolled into the office, she threw him the death stare.

  When the name had come up in one of the partner morning meetings several weeks ago, John hadn’t been able to keep in an incredulous laugh. Who the fuck would name their kid that? It still made him shake his head. When he’d said as much to Shannon, she’d made an abrupt motion and snapped his name. It was only then that he’d realized that the unfortunately named young woman was standing out in the hallway, within earshot of Duncan’s office. Even Chad had given him a withering look.

  When Shannon had gone to bring her into the office, she’d returned alone.

  “Damn it, John, I liked that girl,” Shannon had cried. “You need to just shut your mouth and keep your opinion to yourself, especially at the office. Grow the fuck up!”

  John had reeled back, not used to being on the receiving end of Shannon’s anger. Instinctively, his own anger had risen, but he’d tamped down the impulse to snap back. Shannon didn’t get angry often and this time, he had been in the wrong. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’ll go find her.”

  By the time he’d gotten to the first floor and out the door into the parking lot, he’d seen Marigold Lee climbing into an older model dark blue Volkswagen Beetle. At least, he thought it was her, since she was the only one in the lot. Knowing there was no way he could chase her down and maneuver the chair through all the cars, he’d gone to the lot exit and parked himself there.

  The lot had been repaved last year and repainted, angling the parking slots and creating a delineated flow. Now there was only one exit. If Marigold Lee wanted to leave, she had to go through him.

  For a minute, he didn’t think the woman was going to stop, and he was going to be a VW hood ornament, but she hit the brakes, making the tires bark. John caught a glimpse of her face and his gut twinged. He’d expected tears, and it looked like she had cried a bit, but anger was there now. She slammed the car into park and jumped out of the driver’s seat, stomping around to him.

  “Let me tell you what, asshole. My dad named me Marigold. He was a Marine just like you, and was killed at the beginning of the war in Afghanistan. I was told this group helped veterans and I wanted to be a part of it, but I can see you’re just a bitter asshole. I never should have come here.”

  Fuck.

  “I’m sorry,” he growled, seeing the hurt on her young, mobile face. “I am an asshole, you’ve got that part correct, but my wife really likes you so I’m asking you to wait. You have the job if you want it.”

  She stared at him, arms crossed over her chest, and John realized how very young she was, probably no more than twenty-two or twenty-three. She must have been really little when her dad had been killed. Dark, straight hair hung past her shoulders, and she wore a nice business outfit with smart, trendy black squarish glasses. It was obvious she’d dressed to come in today.

  “I shouldn’t have said that,” he admitted. “It just took me by surprise and I opened my mouth before my brain could stop it. Come on back in.”

  She shook her head. “Are you this much of an asshole to everyone that comes in?”

  In spite of himself he flashed her a grin. “I kind of am, actually.”

  The woman snorted and looked down at her feet, like she was trying to hide her own humor. Dark hair blew around her face, obscuring her expression, and for a moment John thought she looked a little familiar to him, but the impression faded away.

  “Come on,” he wheedled, “Shannon really liked you. She’s only been interviewing assistants for five hundred years, it seems like, because she’s protective of the group. If she brought you to the partner meeting you’re pretty much a shoe-in for the job. Our approval is merely a formality. She really needs the help.”

  Marigold looked out over the cold parking lot, thinking. John didn’t blame her for taking her time. Their group was a lot to take on.

  In the end, though, Marigold Lee did return, and she’d morphed into one of the best workers John had ever seen. Shannon had been tentative about overloading her, but Marigold had taken everything in stride. Having Marigold on premises was the only reason Shannon had felt comfortable enough to leave for the week-long conference.

  Marigold still gave John the cold shoulder, which was fine. He’d been a dick to her, so he would take her anger as long as it made Shannon’s job easier. And he hadn’t noticed her struggling with anything since Shannon had been gone.

  They pulled into the Anderson building lot, where the LNF offices were located. Parking in his designated spot, he glanced at the man beside him. “Let’s go see what we can figure out about your family. Just leave your luggage here for now. No one will mess with it.”

  John activated the lift and rolled off the pad, locking the truck as soon as the lift re-secured and the rest of them were out. Then he followed Shannon into the building and elevator, rolling to the back to give Logan room to maneuver his crutches. Chad stepped into the space left, and they were off.

  “No problems while I was gone? Marigold did okay?” Shannon whispered to him, resting her hand on his shoulder.

  He shook his head. “Fine, I believe. I think she might have asked Duncan about a couple of things but that was all.”

  When the doors opened, they were met with chaos. There were several men milling in the reception area. Logan got off the elevator and immediately stepped to the side to allow the rest of them to exit, looking a little spooked. He tugged his ball cap low over his eyes.

  “Give me just a minute,” John murmured to him.

  John went to Parker Quinn, the current center of attention. He’d been in Columbus for the past year and it was obvious the men had missed him. Zeke had a thick arm over the man’s shoulders, like he’d just drawn him in to a big hug. And Flynn was trying to show Parker something on his phone, his service dog Maya sitting patiently at his feet.

  There was a grunt John didn’t recognize standing to Parker’s right. Size wise, he was on par with Zeke, and the guy didn’t mind looking intimidating, wearing a sweatshirt with the arms ripped off and a black cap shading his eyes. John had a feeling the guy didn’t miss much from beneath that hat.

  Brian Calvert was sitting in one of the reception chairs, laptop open and propped on his legs as he searc
hed for who knew what. Since he’d gotten his degree in forensic accounting he’d been working over here more than the Vail office where he was based. Duncan had had him working on a couple of things, and he knew Parker had as well. From a boss point of view, John felt like the change had been good for Brian.

  John liked Parker. He was a no-nonsense kind of guy, and he would run his ship well. For a solid year he’d been working damn near alone, taking cases and building a customer base to prove to LNF there was a market for their services. The three partners had talked and agreed that a Columbus branch was a good endeavor and that if Parker made it a success he would have the option to buy it outright at a later date. Parker didn’t know that yet, though. That was what this meeting was for.

  “Have a good trip out?” he asked, shaking the man’s hand.

  Parker nodded. “I miss Denver, but I don’t miss the damn snow. Makes my bones ache.”

  John lifted a brow. “I don’t know. I hear you have someone to cuddle with now.”

  Parker barked out a laugh, the lines of his face deepening. “I do. Andromeda is an incredible woman. She came with me but she’s working at the hotel right now. You’ll meet her at dinner.”

  “Excellent,” John murmured.

  Zeke had shifted away to lean down and give Shannon a hug to welcome her back. John wasn’t even sure what the big man was doing here. He’d been working the Frog Dog with Ember, taking less and less cases with the group. Zeke had always been a bit of a nib-shit, though. Maybe he was just here to be social. John turned to Flynn. “You get that kid you were looking for?”

  Flynn nodded, running a hand over the bristles on his recently shaved chin. “I did, but he wasn’t as much help as I’d hoped he’d be. I think I have to go digging again.”

  John frowned. “Okay, we’ll have to talk about it after the meeting.”

  Flynn nodded once and motioned to his dog, leaving as silently as he’d surely arrived.

  Duncan was at the back of the group, talking to Marigold. The young woman gave John a dark look, then continued her conversation. She had an iPad in her hand and was taking notes as she talked to the boss, stylus flashing across the screen. Duncan had his arms crossed and his feet planted, intimidating in a way that he probably didn’t even realize.

  Marigold didn’t seem to have any reservations about talking to him though. Shannon crossed the room and gave the young woman a hug, then reached out and pulled Duncan into a hug as well. A couple of years ago boss man probably wouldn’t have taken it, but he did now. Being with Alex and having their new baby had changed him for the better.

  John glanced at Logan and held out a hand for the man to join him. “Let’s go get something to drink, kid.”

  Logan had never seen such an interesting, dangerous, eclectic group of people. At least, not since he’d left the burn unit.

  There were about seven guys standing in the reception area off the elevator and every single one of them had injuries just as bad, if not worse, than his own, but they radiated power and self-confidence. The biggest guy in the room had a battered ball cap on, just like Logan, but Logan could still see the scars and misalignment of his face. What the hell had happened to him? The guy seemed to be moving better than Logan did, but, damn...

  The guy in the muscle shirt also had a ball-cap on, but Logan couldn’t see any scars beneath the bill. Something about him, maybe the wide, scrolling tattoos on both muscular upper arms, hinted at Marine. Oh, yeah, there was the Eagle, Globe and Anchor hidden in all the black. He seemed to be flanking a blond haired, muscular type. Was that his boss or something? Blond guy appeared to be fairly good-looking at first, but Logan could see the faint tracery of surgery scars around his right eye, giving him an uneven look. And he stood braced, like he was in pain.

  The guy with the dog had seemed like a spook. He’d dealt with enough SEALs over the years to recognize them.

  There was another guy sitting in one of the chairs to his left and the gleam of metal peeked from beneath his pant legs. Both of them. He clattered on a laptop like he was looking for state secrets or something.

  The men appeared to be a group, but with individual little factions. Different shifts, maybe?

  A flash of green caught his eye. A woman wearing a thick, hunter green sweater stood on the other side of the crowd, deep in conversation with Shannon. She was leaning over the shorter woman, nodding her dark head at something Shannon was saying, the tail of a braid hanging over her shoulder. As he watched, they tipped back their heads and laughed. For a moment, the young woman’s gaze met his, and stuck. Logan waited for the moment when her face would crinkle up in disgust, but it didn’t happen, and he was left wondering if she had actually seen him, or just glanced in his direction. Blinking, he forced himself to turn away, but the afterimage stayed on his mind. The woman had been beautiful, with wide-set greenish eyes set in a pale oval face. She seemed tall and strong, and even a little protective as she stood next to the much smaller Shannon.

  There were other people milling about the room, and they obscured his view. It didn’t matter because Palmer called him down a hallway. He couldn’t help but glance back, looking for a final glimpse of the woman.

  “Sorry about the crowd out there,” John said, waiting while Logan crutched his way through the doorway to a chair. “We have a big meeting planned for today and it gives the guys a chance to catch up with their buddies.”

  Logan blinked, frowning, rethinking his deductions. “Did you all serve together?”

  Palmer shut the door, blocking out the noise, and moved to a small fridge in the corner. “Nope. The only two that served together are Duncan and Chad, the guy that rode with us earlier. The three of us created Lost and Found after we got out of Walter Reed and had no fucking idea what to do with ourselves. Actually, Duncan created it, we just helped with backing. Water? Coke?”

  Huh.. that was interesting. “I’ll take a water. Everyone I saw was...”

  “Wounded. Disabled. Yeah. We like to say combat modified, too.” John said, handing him the bottle. “We prefer to hire other vets that can’t find a spot anywhere else. Businesses say they like to have people with military experience, but they don’t always realize how much a wounded vet has to deal with every day. We do. And we position them in jobs they’ll excel at.”

  “That’s...really something.”

  Logan’s mind was roiling with all the possibilities. What a great idea, building a company to suit your own, and those of your workers’, abilities.

  Palmer rolled the wheelchair around behind a desk littered with electronic equipment and stacked papers. “So, let’s get some background information on your family and we’ll see what we can figure out.”

  He pulled out a tablet and swiped through a few screens. “So, tell me what you do know about the family left behind.”

  Logan related the details he was sure about first, but there weren’t very many. His family name had been Vance, he believed, but there was also a family name of Walter in their history as well. He’d had a grandfather by that name, or maybe a great-grandfather. Logan knew that his father was one of four boys, but he thought the others had died, one at childbirth and the others later.

  He knew his grandmother, his father’s mother, had owned some kind of restaurant or something. Or maybe she’d just worked there. And his grandfather had been a mechanic. It was hard to remember all the details because his father very rarely spoke about his Colorado roots.

  “Okay, hold on a minute.”

  John started pounding on the keyboard of his desktop, looking back and forth between the two screens. Logan appreciated the break in activity. His legs were aching like a mother fucker and he didn’t look forward to getting up again. Tipping the bottle of water back, he drank it down.

  It was just a few minutes later when John looked up, scowling. “I thought this would be an easy search, but I’m not finding anything right off. Where are you staying?”

  Logan rubbed his forehead. “I haven’t
really decided yet. I’ll find a hotel or something.”

  John handed over a business card. “I’m going to have to dig, Logan. Text me when you settle. Do you have a ride?”

  “No. I can grab a taxi or something.”

  John snorted. “Not out here you can’t. This is the industrial park.”

  He dialed a number on the phone beside him. “Can you come in here a minute?”

  Within seconds the woman in the green sweater Logan had seen earlier was standing in the doorway, pushing squarish-framed glasses up on the bridge of her narrow nose. Damn, she was something to look at. Her skin, something he was very aware of now, was flawless, milky perfection.

  “Marigold, do you think you could drive Mr. Vance to wherever he needs to go?”

  The young woman made a face at him. “I’m not an Uber.” She glanced at Logan, and he felt the direct look hit him hard. She had very green eyes under those lenses, almost the same deep green of her sweater. “Sorry. No offense.”

  “None taken,” he murmured, quickly turning his scarred face away.

  Logan hated feeling defensive with women, but when you saw even the nurses wince at your appearance, you learned to look away from the reaction to salvage your pride. Something had made him stare at the young woman, though, and he glanced at her again. She was significantly younger than most of the other people he’d seen, but she didn’t seem out of place here.

  “I know this isn’t in your exact job description,” John said patiently, “but I would appreciate it.”

  She scowled, still looking unconvinced.

  “I can take a taxi,” Logan said quickly.

  John acted as if he hadn’t heard Logan, giving the woman a hard look. Then he seemed to sense some weakening in her stance, because he gave her a wink. “Bags are in the bed of my truck.”

  “Fine,” she groused. “I’ll be back in an hour. Come on... you. What’s your name?”

  “Logan.”

  “Come on, Logan.”