Nick UnCaged: Sanctuary, Book Four

by Abbie Zanders

  Viola nodded in agreement. “Now that he’s got a taste of power, he wants more. He surrounds himself with people who’ll do whatever he says.”

  “But he knows he can’t control Matt,” Carmella insisted.

  “And then there’s the underworld ties, if you know what I mean,” Winona said in a hushed voice.

  Viola laughed. “At least she stopped calling them La Cosa Nostra.”

  By the time Bree left the salon nearly two hours later, her head was swimming with information. Viola hadn’t been kidding when she said reasons varied.

  One story said a feud had originated when Matt’s grandfather screwed Daryl Freed’s grandfather out of land on the mountain, though there were different versions of what had actually happened. One claimed Freed had made a deal with an organized crime family in New York to dump illegal waste; another said that Winston had made up the story to acquire the land himself.

  Others suggested the grudges were primarily based on matters of the heart, like Mona’s. That was how Bree had learned that a close friend of Lenny Petraski’s, Sandy Summers, had become involved with one of the men of Sanctuary and left him heartbroken. Kate Handelmann’s name had come up again also, prompting a lively discussion on the fragility of the male ego and how, of course, women would be attracted to buff Navy SEALs over beady-eyed accountants.

  Bree jotted down notes on everything when she got back to the B & B. Without corroboration, it was nothing more than hearsay, but it did weave a very interesting canvas of possibilities.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Cage

  There weren’t many options for dinner or coffee in and around Sumneyville. There was Franco’s, a burger joint on the outskirts of town, and a diner farther out. Cage opted for the diner. According to Sam, it was a laid-back, casual kind of place. Relatively popular with the locals, it would afford them some privacy while not inviting the same level of scrutiny as Franco’s.

  Cage sat in a corner booth, eyes watchful as his fingers drummed quietly on the tabletop. Bree had declined his offer to pick her up at the bed-and-breakfast, saying she had things to do and would meet him there.

  Nervous energy bubbled up inside him. Yeah, he knew this wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t a date even if it did kind of feel that way. Bree was just looking for a scoop, and his mission was to keep her occupied and out of trouble. As long as he kept that in the forefront of his mind, everything would be fine.

  Five minutes before their agreed-upon time, the sporty red Mustang pulled into the lot. The sense of anticipation rose. Cage watched as she checked her hair and slid a small tube over her lips. He chuckled slightly when she held her hand up over her mouth in a quick breath check, glad he wasn’t the only one who did that.

  With exactly one minute to go, Bree got out of the car and proceeded to the diner entrance. He silently appreciated the easy grace of her stride and wondered if she’d always had self-confidence or if she’d had to learn it, like him.

  Only once she was inside did he offer a wave.

  “Hi. Have you been waiting long?” she asked as he slid out of the booth and stood in courtesy.

  “Not at all.” He wasn’t about to tell her that he’d been there for nearly an hour, having spent the first thirty minutes in the parking lot and the rest of the time scoping out the diner itself. If necessary, he could provide descriptions of every vehicle in the lot as well as an accurate account of everyone within.

  When Bree was seated, he slid back in, too, discreetly filling his lungs with her subtle, feminine scent. He couldn’t help but notice her soft, satiny pink lips, too and wondered what flavor she’d used on them.

  Under the bright lights of the diner, her hair appeared even glossier and shinier than it had been the day before. When she turned a certain way, it looked almost purple. The effect was striking. Her nails looked freshly done, too.

  “You look nice.”

  Her smile was like a punch to the solar plexus. “Thanks for noticing.”

  The server came by with menus and took their drink orders.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but Bree put up her index finger in a wait motion.

  “Order first, then talk. I’m starving. What’s good here?” she asked him, perusing the daily-specials insert.

  “I have no idea. I’ve never been here before. Sam recommended it.”

  Her brow creased slightly. “Sam ... I don’t remember meeting him.”

  “Her. Sam is short for Samantha.”

  “Ah. Does she live at Sanctuary, like Kate?”

  “Yes, but she grew up in Sumneyville, too.”

  “A girlfriend?”

  “A wife,” he corrected. When her pretty eyes widened, he quickly added, “Not mine.”

  She seemed relieved, which he took as a good sign. “I didn’t realize any of the guys were married.”

  “One’s married, and two are engaged.”

  “Interesting. Do you think they’d be willing to talk to me? It’d be nice to get a female perspective.”

  “I can ask.”

  “Please do.”

  The server returned with their drinks. After assuring them that everything on the specials menu was good, they made their selections. Cage ordered an open-faced turkey sandwich with gravy and mashed potatoes; Bree ordered a salad with grilled chicken.

  “A salad? I thought you were starving.”

  “I am, but I need greens,” she told Cage after the waitress left with their orders. “Ms. McGillicuddy is a good cook, but I don’t think she knows how to make anything that isn’t deep-fried or smothered in butter.”

  He laughed. “Healthy eater, huh?”

  “Not really. Just used to the California frame of mind, I guess. Harder to hide under bulky sweaters out there.”

  He didn’t think she needed to hide anything but also felt it wouldn’t be gentlemanly to say so. “It’s been a while since I’ve been out that way, but I do remember that.”

  She sipped her peach iced tea, which he knew from personal experience was excellent, and cocked her head. “Let me guess. SEALs training at Coronado?”

  Was it an educated guess, or had she done her homework, as he had? Probably the former unless the Sentinel Voice had a research team with access to confidential military personnel records. Plus, he had mentioned that he and the others had all worked with Church on the teams at some point.

  “Got it in one.”

  “Where are you from originally?”

  “New York.”

  “Me too!”

  He nodded. “Brooklyn, right? Or maybe Staten Island?”

  She gaped at him. “Both, actually. How did you know that?”

  He shrugged, unwilling to get into the specifics. “I’ve got a good ear for accents,” he said, which was true.

  “I worked really hard to get rid of that accent,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

  “It’s very faint.” He could see the questions forming behind her eyes and headed them off. “Tell me, what made a Brooklyn girl move to California?”

  For as adept as she was at asking questions, she wasn’t as comfortable with answering them. She blinked once or twice, as if surprised he’d asked. He sipped his ice water and waited patiently.

  “I wanted to get as far away from my roots as possible.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  She nodded, playing with the paper that had covered her straw. She was quiet for a long time before she said, “Do you know what a made man is, Nick?”

  If she only knew how well. “I do.”

  “Well, my father was one, and now, he’s spending the rest of his days rotting in prison.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too. But you know what? It is what it is. Or was what it was. That isn’t my life anymore, nor will it ever be again. What about you? What made you want to join the Navy?”

  After hearing the bitterness in her voice, he wasn’t about to get into that. Instead, he shrugged and said, “Seemed like a good idea at
the time. See the world, get an education.”

  Several times over dinner, she tried to steer the conversation back to him, but over the years, he’d honed the skill of redirection to a fine art. They talked about California and her job at the Sentinel Voice. As time progressed, she seemed to grow more comfortable around him.

  They weren’t that different, he realized even if she didn’t. Possibly even kindred spirits. Both from Brooklyn. Both with questionable family ties. Both had gone to the West Coast in the hopes of changing their lives for the better. Both tended to work well in teams but were essentially loners at heart. The difference was, he had found his niche, and she still seemed to be searching for hers.

  “How do you do it?” she asked, eyeing the peach cobbler and ice cream he’d ordered for dessert.

  Wordlessly, he pushed the plate toward the center of the table and handed her a spoon. After only a moment’s hesitation, she scooped up a small spoonful “just to try.”

  “Do what?”

  She wrapped her lips around the spoon, humming slightly as she closed her eyes in bliss. It was damn good cobbler.

  Extracting the now-clean utensil, she swirled it around in the air. “This. The small-town life. You seem more of a city guy to me.”

  “Because I said I was from New York? It’s a big state, you know.”

  She dipped the spoon into the bowl for a second “taste.”

  “I know. Call it a hunch.”

  Her hunches were on par with his instincts. That made her as desirable as she was dangerous. Until a few years ago, he would not have seen himself in a place like Sanctuary. He liked the anonymity of the big city, high-tech options, and twenty-four-hour access to everything. But then Church had called, one thing had led to another, and he had found himself moving into a trailer in the mountains. Now, he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

  “I used to be,” he admitted.

  “But not anymore?”

  “Not anymore,” he confirmed. Again, her brow creased, and he could see the questions forming. “You’re not a fan of small-town life, I take it.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. Sumneyville seems like a nice place to visit, but I couldn’t live here. One restaurant? No Thai food? Everything closed by nine?”

  He laughed, understanding exactly how she felt since those had been his initial impressions as well. “It’s not all bad. There are even some benefits, if you know where to look.”

  “Oh yeah?” She leaned forward, challenge in her eyes. “Like what?”

  He sat back, relinquishing the rest of the peach cobbler. The things he appreciated most weren’t easily described. He could try to convey what it was like to lie in a hammock under the stars on a midsummer night, but it couldn’t compare to the real thing. Things like that had to be experienced to be genuinely appreciated. Which gave him an idea.

  “Are you adventurous, Bree?”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  Fair point. “Then, instead of me trying to tell you, why not let me show you?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Bree

  A tingle of excitement went through Bree. Words like adventure and show coming out of Nick’s mouth and directed at her elicited that kind of reaction.

  She searched his eyes, hoping to find some clue that might help decipher what he was thinking, but started to get lost in them instead. Gorgeous eyes they were, deep and fluid, not one shade of green but many, with flecks of gold flashing and dancing about. Hypnotizing. Mesmerizing.

  “Bree?”

  She blinked and sat back. “What do you have in mind?”

  “A field trip.” He looked at the high-tech gadget on his wrist and then back at her. “Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

  She did but nothing set in stone. She was going to return the books she’d borrowed to the library and visit a few local businesses to do some impromptu, on-the-spot interviews. However, none of that appealed to her as much as the idea of a field trip with Nick.

  “I’m free after lunch. I can drive up to Sanctuary and meet you.”

  “That’ll work.” He pulled out his wallet and signaled for the check.

  “Should I bring anything for this adventure?”

  He thought about that for a moment, as if reviewing a list in his mind. “No, just yourself.” The slight upturn at the corner of his lips ratcheted her interest another couple notches.

  He paid for dinner, firmly refusing her offer to put the meal on the Voice’s dime, and tossed a couple bills on the table for a tip. Then, he stood and waited for her to shimmy out of the booth, holding out his hand to assist her. The moment she put her hand in his, that tingle of anticipation intensified. When he let go, she felt a sense of loss.

  He walked her to the exit and then to her car. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Yes, you will,” she assured him. “Around three-ish?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll be expecting you. Oh, and, Bree?”

  “Yes?”

  “Plan for a late night.”

  With that cryptic statement, Nick walked back to the dark SUV. She watched him go, appreciating the easy, masculine grace of his stride. The man looked as good from the back as he did from the front.

  Anticipation bubbled through her veins as Bree went back to the B & B. She didn’t know what Nick was planning, but she was definitely intrigued.

  * * *

  “I was just thinking about you,” Toni said in greeting.

  “Does that mean you’ve got something for me?”

  “Maybe. I started looking into the company that owns Sanctuary. Looks like there are six partners that comprise the board, all former SEALs. Did you know that?”

  Bree thought of Nick. “I knew some were but not all.”

  “And you conveniently failed to mention that? Here I am, feeling sorry for you because you’re stuck out there, in the middle of nowhere, and you’re living it up with Navy SEALs?”

  Bree laughed, unable to resist. “I had dinner with one tonight, and he’s taking me on a field trip tomorrow.”

  “I want pictures. Now. Or I’m not sharing what I found.”

  Bree sent her some of the pictures she’d snapped surreptitiously of Nick and the guy in the greenhouse. She knew they’d been received when she heard Toni’s heavy, envious sigh.

  “Which one did you have dinner with? The Incredible Hunk or Green Eyes?”

  “Green Eyes.”

  “I love you, but I kind of hate you right now, too.”

  Bree laughed. It felt nice to be on the receiving end of envy for a change even if Toni was only teasing. “Duly noted. What did you find out?”

  “Sanctuary is owned and operated by a private company, a separate entity created by the partners themselves. No government funding as far as I can tell, which makes them completely autonomous; they don’t answer to anyone but themselves. Legally speaking, they’re equal partners, but the land was already owned by one of them.”

  “Matt Winston. Yeah, I know.”

  “Well, did you know that it was once a resort, but then it burned down, and his whole family was killed?”

  “Yes. I read about it in the local library.”

  “Of course you did,” Toni grumbled.

  Bree laughed. “What else have you got?”

  “Not a lot—yet. Cursory searches aren’t producing much, so I’m going to have to dig deeper. They seem to be good at flying under the radar. Makes me wonder how Charlie even heard about them. What’s your time frame on this? Do you need it right away?”

  “Why, you got a hot date or something?”

  “Technically, no, but Hunter’s flying back tomorrow night, and I’d like to hit the spa before he does, just in case. I’m overdue for a wax.”

  “He’s coming back from Vegas,” Bree teased. “Are you sure he’s going to have the energy?”

  “I hope so. He promised to show me what he’s learned. I even ordered a set of nipple clamps and a riding crop online. I used your account, by th
e way, to get the free one-day shipping.”

  “Ugh, TMI. And no great urgency. I’m just looking for something interesting to pull the pieces together. It’s pretty bland, even with the tragic backstory and small-town angst angle.”

  “Hey, maybe Green Eyes will give you something to write about. Or if you’re really lucky, something you can’t write about.” Toni laughed. “Have fun on your field trip. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “That doesn’t leave much, does it?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Bree

  “What is this?” Bree asked, lifting the fried square of unidentified breakfast meat with her fork the next morning.

  “Scrapple. It’s a local favorite.”

  Bree refrained from asking exactly what it was made of; sometimes, it was better not to know. She took a tentative bite. Crispy on the outside, soft on the inside. It wasn’t horrible, but it couldn’t compare to the smoked slab bacon she’d had earlier in the week.

  Martha sat down across from her with a cup of coffee and a plate of her own. “You’re looking chipper this morning, especially for being up so late.”

  “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

  “No. I usually get up at least once a night, and I noticed the lights were still on.”

  “I get on a roll and tend to lose track of time, especially when the subject matter is particularly interesting.”

  Martha’s brows pinched together; no doubt, she was wondering what Bree had found so interesting. “Mona said she saw you at the salon. Did you learn anything useful for your article?”

  “Yes, I did, thanks.”

  The furrow deepened as Martha’s frown increased. Mona was probably going to be getting a phone call the moment Martha was alone. Bree took that as her cue.

  “Speaking of, I’ve got a full day ahead of me, and I should get to it. Thanks for breakfast.”

  “Oh, of course.”

  Bree couldn’t help but smile as she left the house a few minutes later and heard Martha on the phone.