GRAY WOLF SECURITY, Texas: The Complete 6-Books Series

by Glenna Sinclair

  “Alright, everyone. Get to work. Don’t get dead.”

  They walked out, joking and laughing with each other. David watched, remembering how the people working for Ash had done the same. There was something about the nature of the job that drew people together. Family. That’s what it had been at the original Gray Wolf. David hoped that a family would be what would develop out of GWS 2.

  Chapter 2

  Alexander

  The house was just like all the others in the neighborhood, a nice little brick house with a bay window in the living room. The lawn was green and well maintained, the sidewalks clear of any adornments. There was nothing on the outside that made it appear different from the other houses on the block—except for the absence of children’s toys, flowerpots, or the little signs that people often put out on their front doors. But it was different.

  This house was a prison.

  When I bought it, it was with the intention of creating a happy home for my little sister and myself. We would be roommates until one of us was ready to move on. Then we would decide who would stay and who would go, diplomatically, the way we did everything. Vanessa and I had always been able to make decisions easily together. It was probably because it had always been just the two of us.

  Our father took off when Vanessa was still in diapers. And our mother suffered from chronic migraines and severe depression. By the time our mother committed suicide, I was sixteen, Vanessa fourteen. We’d been on our own since we were small kids anyway, so it wasn’t really that big of a deal. We managed to stay together, and the moment I turned eighteen, I petitioned the court for custody of Vanessa. I worked three dead-end jobs at a time to make ends meet until Vanessa was eighteen. Then she got into college on scholarships, and I decided to join the Navy. And with the money I was able to make, I put a down payment on this house and secured my sister in it while I was overseas.

  She was supposed to be safe.

  She wasn’t.

  I sighed as I climbed out of the car. I grabbed the groceries from the back seat and headed toward the door. I paused under a camera that was barely visible under the eaves.

  “It’s me, Vanessa,” I said in a clear, calm voice.

  I heard the locks on the front door release. I pushed the door open and walked through the pristinely clean front room to the spacious kitchen in the back. I set the grocery bags on the table and went back for the rest. When it was all in the house, I shut and locked the front door. Only then did my sister come out from behind her locked bedroom door.

  “Hi, Alex.”

  It hurts me to look at her. It’s not just the long scar that mars the side of her face. There used to be this vitality in her eyes, this enthusiasm for life that couldn’t be denied. But it’s gone now, taken from her, just like her sense of security and her ability to leave the house and interact with other people.

  “Hey, kid,” I said, forcing a smile. “I bought some of those cotton candy grapes that you like so much.”

  “Thanks,” she said, coming to the table to look through the bags. “You should come over Friday. I’ll make a pot roast.”

  “Sure. If I’m not on a case.”

  “Knox came over on Thursday. We played gin rummy.”

  “That’s good.”

  I often had to be away on the cases I worked through GWS 2, so I’d introduced Vanessa to Knox. I thought, Knox being a woman and someone I trusted—we’d worked several cases together—that Vanessa would be okay with Knox checking on her while I was away. There was no one else, really. And it seemed to be going well.

  Agoraphobia was a debilitating disorder, worse than the depression that had plagued our mother. If I wasn’t around to bring Vanessa food and check the security system—it was the same system GWS 2 used with their clients—I was convinced she would just sit in her bedroom and die either of fear or starvation.

  “I got a new job.”

  I looked at Vanessa. “Really?”

  She smiled a big smile that was reminiscent of the happiness that used to dance on her face years ago. “It’s just a small story, ten thousand words. But it’s work.”

  “That’s awesome, Vanessa.”

  In the old days, I’d hug her. But Vanessa wasn’t okay with touching. So I satisfied myself with a thumbs-up signal.

  We finished putting away the groceries in silence. Then I leaned against the counter and watched her fidget across the room.

  “Are you taking your medicine?”

  She shrugged, her eyes on the floor. “It makes me sleepy.”

  “Dr. Arden said that you need to take it to get better.”

  “I am better, Alex. I’m talking to strangers over the internet and working again. That’s progress.”

  “It is. And it’s great, Vanessa. But if Dr. Arden’s going to help you, you have to do what she tells you to do.”

  “I know.”

  “Take your medicine. And let her in when she comes by tomorrow.”

  “I will.”

  I studied her face. “Promise.”

  She sighed heavily. “I promise.”

  I wanted to go to her and hold her, to reassure her that everything would be okay. But I couldn’t. The asshole who raped and beat her and left her for dead made sure that I would never be able to hold my sister again.

  I dragged my fingers through my hair as I pushed away from the counter. “I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

  “Be careful, Alex.”

  I glanced back at her. I could see panic just below the surface; I knew that she was all too aware of what would happen to her if I never came around again. I backtracked, stopping a foot or two in front of her.

  “I’m always careful, kid.” I smiled, my most charming grin. She smiled back. “I’ll call you later today, and I’ll be back next Monday.”

  She nodded. “And I’ll work hard with Dr. Arden. I promise.”

  I gave her another thumbs up and walked away.

  I don’t know what was harder: coming to this house and seeing what a prison she’d made of it for herself, or leaving her alone, knowing how frightened she truly was.

  And it was all because of one man. One man who got away with it because he could afford the best attorney in the country.

  ***

  I walked into the offices at GWS 2, shooting a smile at Annie.

  “David’s waiting for you in his office.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  I headed down the hall that led to the offices in back. Knox was coming out of Ricki’s office, dressed in office-appropriate clothing. That was a little unusual. Knox was the kind of woman who preferred jeans and t-shirts. Or teeny, tiny skirts.

  “Hey, big boy,” she said, drawing the words out in a long drawl. “How’s Vanessa?”

  “The same.”

  “Sorry.” She stopped in front of me, blocking my path. She pressed her hand to my chest, her touch welcome after spending time with Vanessa. “Do you want me to go by and check on her?”

  “Not today. But I appreciate it.”

  She smiled. It was a charming smile, like mine. Knox and I have a lot in coming. She also had a sister with whom she had issues. Nothing like what was going on with Vanessa—at least I didn’t think so. She wouldn’t talk about it, just little hints here and there. But that was why we both found it difficult to trust people, to let them in the way that’s required in order to have relationships. That was probably why we were drawn to each other. From the first meeting, we were always drawn together. There was even one night when a few too many drinks led to a night of intimacy. But Knox hadn’t shown interest since. She’d gotten what she wanted.

  “You just let me know and I’ll be happy to stop by.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  She reached up and kissed my cheek, her lips lingering for a second. Then she walked off, calling over her shoulder, “Got to get to work.”

  I watched her go, admiring the way she looked in her little suit. If anyone ever con
vinced her to settle down, he’d be an incredibly lucky man. But it wouldn’t be me.

  I tapped on David’s door and stuck my head inside.

  “You wanted to see me?”

  “Come in, Alexander.”

  I walked into the spacious office, always appreciative of the huge display of computer equipment on the far side of the room. David was over there now, probably reviewing the data that came in over the weekend on our active cases. This was one of the reasons I chose to work with GWS 2 over some of the other security firms that reached out to me. Not only did the original Gray Wolf have a stellar reputation—especially after they took down a big part of the Russian mob some five years ago—but David happily showed off the advances in security software that he and his wife had designed and patented for use by the employees of Gray Wolf and its new branch here in Austin. I’d always been interested in computers and the things they could do. I liked having these advances at my fingertips when I was out in the field.

  “I have a new case for you,” David announced. “It’s a bodyguard job. A woman who has been getting death threats from an unknown source. We’ll need you to shadow the woman, day and night, and do what you can to help track down the source of the threats.”

  I buried my hands in the front pockets of my jeans. “No problem.”

  David handed over an iPad that had the details of the case pulled up on the screen. The first thing I saw was a picture of a beautiful woman. She had long, blond hair that fell in waves around her face, blue eyes and high cheekbones, a jaw that was shaped like the bottom edge of a heart, and this delicate dimple in her cheek that deepened when she smiled as she was in the picture.

  She looked like the kind of woman who could easily make a good living in front of a photographer’s camera. The kind of woman any man would appreciate on his arm.

  But then I swiped the page and saw the word attorney.

  Suddenly she didn’t seem all that beautiful to me anymore.

  “She’s a lawyer?”

  “She works for Simon, McKinney, and James downtown.”

  “What kind of lawyer?”

  David looked up at me, understanding in his eyes. “Criminal.”

  I set down the iPad. “No thank you.”

  David came around his desk, his arms crossed over his chest, as he stepped between the door and me.

  “I understand your distaste for lawyers, but you assured me when you started working here that your personal feelings would not interfere with your work here.”

  “But a criminal lawyer?”

  “Not all lawyers are the same, Alexander. And this woman came to us asking for help. She’s afraid to leave her office every night because of these death threats she’s getting.”

  David paused a second, waiting—I supposed—for me to continue to argue. But I just stood there and waited to hear his argument.

  “She’s defending a man who is accused of kidnapping an eight-year-old girl. The girl comes from a very wealthy family, and she believes they are behind the threats.”

  “Then maybe she should drop the case.”

  “It doesn’t work like that, Alexander. The man has a right to due process.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, just like him, rising to my full height so that I stood a few inches taller than his impressive height. But David wasn’t the kind of guy who was easily intimidated. He uncrossed his arms and even smiled slightly.

  “Aren’t you concerned that my distaste for criminal attorneys might make me less than vigilant in this case?”

  David shook his head. “Not at all. I think it might make you more vigilant.”

  I shook my head, but David placed his hand on my arm. “You are very good at your job,” he told me. “And you’re very honorable in everything you do. You don’t have to like the woman to properly protect her.”

  I inclined my head to show that I agreed with his assessment. But that didn’t mean I liked the idea.

  “If it is the girl’s family, we should be able to prove that in just a few days and put a stop to it. Chances are good you’ll be off the case by the end of the week.”

  I didn’t want to do it. I’d had enough of lawyers in the aftermath of Vanessa’s attack. And what I saw didn’t inspire me to want to protect one of their kind. But this was my job, and it wasn’t in my nature to argue with the man in charge.

  David got the iPad and handed it to me.

  “Study the information we have and then go pack. You can find her downtown at the courthouse until eleven.”

  “She’s already signed all the paperwork?”

  “Everything’s all set. She’s just waiting for you.”

  I walked out to the main office and settled behind my desk. I’d been hoping to spend the day catching up on the reports I never seemed to be able to keep up with. The only good thing about this assignment was that it would probably mean a lot of sitting around and doing nothing. I could work on those reports then.

  “New assignment?” Ingram asked, coming to lean against the side of my desk.

  I look up at the huge man—he’s not as tall as I am, but much more muscular. He took up weight lifting while he was stuck in the brig during his stint in the Navy.

  “Playing bodyguard.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  “What are you up to?”

  “The same thing. But my target is at work right now in a building surrounded by half a dozen cops, so I thought I’d hang out here a while and see what kind of trouble I can get into.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “Yeah, well, the lady is a bit of a bitch. Wants me to act like her chauffeur, assistant, and housekeeper all in one. I’ll be happy when the assignment is over.”

  “Like the next case will be any better.”

  “You never know. We might actually meet someone during one of these assignments who is worth protecting.”

  I grunt, not sure how much I agree with him. Probably more than I should.

  Before what happened to Vanessa, I would have said that everyone deserved protection from any sort of threat. But now? I was beginning to think that some people just weren’t worth the effort, and lawyers were a huge section of that category.

  “A group of us are going to dinner Saturday night. If you’re free, you should join us.”

  I glanced at Ingram. “Sure.”

  He slapped my shoulder, hitting me so hard I could feel it in my ribcage.

  “See you around, brother. Give me a call if you need help.”

  I turned back to the iPad and studied the information David and Annie had gathered on the target. Her name was Tierney Michaels. Interesting name. She’d been an attorney for five years, working for the same firm since her first year of law school. This was only her third death penalty case, the first where she was the lead attorney. It must have been a huge case for her. There was little information on the client, just that he was some rich kid who was arrested on suspicion of breaking and entering. The current charges had nothing to do with the missing kid, but the police report David had gotten his hands on showed that the cops were convinced this guy was the kidnapper because the house he supposedly broke into was three doors from the girl’s house and he was seen sneaking around the front gate of the girl’s house several hours before the break in.

  I recognized the name of the missing girl’s parents. Jack and Leslie Peterman. Jack Peterman owned a huge construction company here in Austin. Their signs were all over the city, in front of new construction—everything from office buildings to malls to apartments to private housing projects—in every corner of town. And Leslie Peterman was on the city council, a controversial city leader because she was fighting to tear down some houses on the poorer side of town that she claimed were the source of the drug problem that seemed to be growing all across the city.

  I thought I’d heard that the Peterman’s daughter was missing, but I don’t pay a lot of attention to the local news.

  I sighed, not really looking forward to taking on t
his case. But I gathered my things and drove over to the courthouse as I was told. I slipped into the appropriate courtroom and stood at the back of the room, watching as the prosecutor argued against allowing Ms. Michaels’ client to go free on a million-dollar bond.

  “Your honor,” the prosecutor, a short, round man in his fifties, said, “Mr. Harmon broke into the Smith home in an attempt to profit on the items he took. Police found his fingerprints in the home—along with blood that we believe will be traced back to Mr. Harmon after testing is done.”

  “Your honor,” Ms. Michaels broke in, “the fingerprints found in the Smith home could have been there for weeks or years. My client’s parents are friends with the Smiths. Mr. Harmon had been in that home dozens of times in just the last few months! Just because the police found his prints there—”

  “What about the blood?”

  “A type doesn’t prove that it belongs to my client.”

  “And the pawn ticket?” the prosecutor asked.

  “Your honor, the prosecution is trying to keep my client in jail simply in an attempt to get him to confess to another crime that took place hours before this one.”

  “We have evidence that suggests Mr. Harmon committed this robbery.”

  The judge slammed his gavel on the desk and announced, “Mr. Harmon will be released with bail set at one million dollars.”

  “Thank you, your honor,” Ms. Michaels said, turning to her client with a big smile on her face. She’d gotten what she wanted. In any other case, the client would be stuck in jail for the duration. But as the son of Kyle Harmon, a local entrepreneur, a million-dollar bond was nothing for this client. But I did notice that his father didn’t appear to be in the courtroom.

  The guards came and took young Mr. Harmon out of the courtroom as Ms. Michaels gathered her things. She was taller than I’d expected. I’d guess she was nearly five-nine without her heels on. Tall, slender, and curvy. The pencil skirt she was wearing only enhanced her curves and her beauty. I had to admit a certain attraction, but the whole lawyer thing kind of ruined it.

  She saw me watching her. I caught her looking at me, curiosity obvious in her eyes. But then she turned back to what she’d been doing, gathering her paperwork, and pretended she hadn’t seen me.