Always (The Protectors Book 3)

by Leeanna Morgan

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Mallory counted the number of girls on the ice. Bella still hadn’t arrived for their Saturday practice. She’d only been able to reserve a one-hour time slot on the rink at Haynes Pavilion. If they were going to make this session worthwhile, they needed to begin now.

  “Okay, everyone. Let’s get started.”

  “What about Bella?” Natasha asked.

  “I’m sure she’ll be here soon. We’ll start without her. It will be good practice in case someone’s sick on the day of the Winter Festival.”

  While the girls skated into position for their opening song, Mallory checked her cell phone. It wasn’t like Rachel or John not to text her if Bella couldn’t make it.

  “She’s here,” Natasha said excitedly. “Bella’s arrived.”

  Mallory looked across the rink. She was used to seeing Bella with one bodyguard, but today, Rachel and two men were walking alongside her.

  She’d find out what was happening later, but for now, she had their second-to-last practice to focus on.

  Mallory held her finger to her lips. It didn’t take long for everyone to stop talking. “You all skated beautifully last Wednesday. We only have one more group practice after this one, so let’s make it count. Is everyone ready?”

  Bella sped past Mallory and took her place.

  A chorus of ‘yeses’ rang throughout the rink.

  “Okay, let’s start. Chins up, big smiles, and straight backs.” She pulled the remote control out of her pocket and pushed play.

  The girls waited for their cue to glide across the ice. They moved in a perfect block formation, turning their heads and bodies in unison.

  As their block formation gave way to pair skating and complicated intersections, Mallory smiled.

  Their performance was going to be amazing.

  ***

  Grant sat near the back of the rink, drinking coffee and watching Bella and Mallory on the ice.

  He couldn’t believe how quickly Bella had learned not only the basics of figure skating but more technical moves that took people a long time to master.

  She was fearless on the ice, throwing herself into each move with a confidence he admired. It gave him a rush of pleasure to see her so happy.

  Mallory kept a close eye on what the girls were doing.

  They made the synchronized moves seem easy, but it had taken them a long time to get this far.

  He glanced at Rachel. Tank and Tanner, two of John’s senior security specialists, weren’t far away. His brother had called him this morning. The project he was working on had taken a slight detour.

  Grant didn’t know all the details, but a South American businessman was putting pressure on his government to release a report they’d commissioned from Fletcher Security.

  His brother knew that if that happened, the consequences would trickle through to Fletcher Security and, potentially, to his family. John wasn’t prepared to put anyone at risk. He’d reluctantly let Bella and Rachel come to the rink, but they were on a strict come-and-go policy.

  Grant wished Mallory listened as well as Rachel did. At least Mallory was staying with Tess and Logan. She was safe while she was there, but just as vulnerable as she had always been when she wasn’t.

  The last song started and the girls separated into pairs. Bella and Natasha held hands, moving into formation and skating through a complicated footwork sequence.

  He hadn’t told Mallory that he’d been watching their last practice at Emerald Lake from John’s living room. He knew what was coming next. Natasha’s spin wasn’t far away.

  As the girls moved into a circle around her, Natasha’s grin wobbled. He just hoped her skates didn’t do the same thing.

  Her backward crossovers were good. Just like last time, she held onto the backward inside edge of her right foot and rotated into the forward right-hand spin.

  He held his breath, hoping she didn’t drop her toe pick onto the ice and lose control.

  She kept her chin up, pulled her arms in tight, and spun like a mini tornado in the middle of her teammates.

  He could see how hard it was for everyone not to clap and hug her. Their smiles could have lit the rink for a whole winter.

  Natasha couldn’t stop grinning.

  Mallory didn’t have the same worry. She clapped and cheered so hard that it brought tears to his eyes.

  A movement on his left caught his attention. Tank was speaking to someone on his earpiece and moving through the seats toward Grant.

  Grant turned around, expecting to see someone behind him, but no one was there. He didn’t know what was going on, but Tank did. He quickly made his way toward Rachel and Bella’s bodyguard.

  Tank finished the call. “Someone broke into Mallory’s home. She’ll need to go back as soon as possible to see if anything has been taken.”

  “Have the police been called?”

  “They’ve nearly finished their scene investigation.”

  “Thanks, Tank. I’ll let her know as soon as she’s off the ice.”

  “Tanner and I are going home with Rachel and Bella, but if you need any help, give John a call. We’ve got other staff on duty.”

  Tank went back to his position behind Rachel, and Grant headed toward the edge of the rink.

  As he waited for Mallory’s practice to end, he thought about what could have happened if she’d been home.

  They weren’t good thoughts.

  ***

  Mallory parked her car on the curb outside her home. Tank didn’t know anything about the break-in, only that her neighbors and the police had been trying to call her for the last three hours. She’d left her cell phone switched off last night and forgotten to turn it on this morning.

  She was normally an optimistic person, but the last few days had rattled her. She was expecting the worst and anything better than that was a bonus.

  She buried her hands inside her jacket pockets and waited for Grant.

  He locked his car and walked toward her. His gentle nod was enough to tell her he was here for her if she needed him.

  They walked up the driveway, passing two patrol cars and an officer who was talking on his phone. A man dressed in a black down jacket met them on the porch.

  He shook Grant’s hand then held out his hand to Mallory. “I’m Jeremy. I work at Fletcher Security.”

  “Hi. How bad is it?”

  “Come and have a look. I’ll introduce you to the officer who’s investigating the break-in.”

  Jeremy wiped his boots on the entranceway mat, then walked into the living room.

  Mallory stopped in front of a large painting on the far wall. She breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Thank goodness they didn’t damage Mia’s canvas.”

  The landscape was a clever mix of blue and green paint, gently layered to represent a mountain scene. Splashes of brown and purple deepened the foreground, framing the view and giving it depth.

  Grant frowned. “You know the artist?”

  “Mia lives in Bozeman and exhibits all over the world. Her granddad owns an art gallery in town. I was worried they might have taken the painting or left graffiti everywhere.”

  Jeremy waited for her by the kitchen door. “No graffiti, just lots of mess.”

  Mess she could handle. It was everything else that made her feel sick. Someone had come into her home and gone through her belongings. It was a cowardly and heartless thing to do.

  Her home had always been her refuge, her safe place to go when the changes in her life had been too much. She didn’t know if it would ever feel like that again.

  She looked at Grant. “You were right.”

  “I wish I hadn’t been.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and nudged her forward. “Jeremy’s waiting. I’ll help you go through everything once you’ve seen the police.”

  They moved into the kitchen.

  Jeremy pointed to a patrol officer. She was brushing black dust over the door frame. “Officer Jenkins, this is Mallory Fraser, the owner of t
his home.”

  Officer Jenkins straightened and smiled at Mallory. “It would have been better to meet under different circumstances, but hello. This isn’t the best thing to come home to.”

  “No, but at least they didn’t light a fire or do anything more permanent.” Her back door was a mess. The top pane of glass had been smashed out of the frame, giving the burglars unlimited access to the rest of her home. “A local company was going to install security doors this afternoon.”

  “Still get them to come. We’ll be finished with our scene investigation soon. If you could go upstairs and see if anything is missing, I’d appreciate it. When you’re finished, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “Okay.” Mallory searched for Grant.

  “I’m right behind you.”

  She walked up the staircase and stood in the doorway of her office. Every piece of paper on her desk and in her filing cabinet had been pulled out and thrown across the floor.

  She picked up some paper, making a path to her open closet. Boxes had been pulled off the shelves and emptied where the person stood.

  She tried to remember everything that had been inside them, but it was impossible. Some of the boxes had been packed in Orlando eighteen months ago and she hadn’t opened them.

  Grant started collecting paper.

  Mallory did the same. It was better than standing in a disaster zone and feeling helpless. “I don’t know how I’m going to know if anything is missing.”

  “Don’t worry—just do your best. The police will be trying to work out if it was a random break-in or if there was something else behind it.”

  “I’m going with the something else,” Mallory muttered. “Mia’s painting is worth a lot of money. If they were interested in making money, they would have taken that.”

  “They might not know anything about art.”

  Mallory left a pile of papers on her desk and frowned. “I hope they didn’t take my photos.” She rushed toward her bedroom and could have cried when she saw the mess.

  Grant followed her into the room. “Where did you keep your photos?”

  Mallory knelt on the floor beside her bed. “I packed my old photo albums in containers and stored them under my bed.” She lifted her bedspread and sighed. “They missed them.”

  Grant joined her on the floor. “Hand them to me and I’ll lift them onto your bed.”

  Mallory hooked her hand around one of the containers. “It’s on wheels. Here it comes. I’ll get the other one.” With a twist of her hips, she came out from under her bed. “I need to vacuum under there.”

  “I don’t think anyone will be worried about a little dust.”

  Mallory pushed a strand of hair off her face and lifted the second box of photos onto her bed. “These are my family photos.”

  Grant stood beside her as she opened an album.

  The gap-toothed girl staring back at Mallory made her smile. “Grant Byers, meet Mallory Fraser aged eight.”

  “You were cute even when you were eight years old.”

  Mallory pointed to her pale yellow dress. “Mom made my dress for my birthday. We had a party at the ice rink before practice.”

  “You practiced on your birthday?”

  “I lived and breathed skating for most of my life. If I didn’t get on the ice each day, I was miserable.” She returned the album to the box and picked up some clothes. “I’ll have to wash everything.”

  Grant passed her a pile of sweaters. “You’ll feel better once we’ve put everything away.”

  “I’ll feel better once the police find who did this.”

  “So will I,” Grant muttered.

  Mallory looked around her bedroom. A trickle of unease crept down her spine. She piled more clothes onto her bed as she hunted for the photos that had been thrown off the dresser. Some of the frames were chipped and a couple had broken glass, but the one she was searching for wasn’t there.

  She moved a pile of boxes that had been pulled out of her closet. This wasn’t good. “I left the photo of Simon and me on my dresser. It’s gone.”

  “The one with the numbers on the back?”

  Mallory nodded. She moved to the other side of the room, searching through everything.

  Grant looked under some cushions and behind the dresser. “Are you sure you didn’t move it or take it to Tess’ house?”

  “I’m positive. I nearly put it in my bag but changed my mind at the last minute. I thought it would be okay. It was behind all the other photos on my dresser.”

  Grant frowned. “I need to call John.”

  While he was on the phone, Mallory walked into her bathroom and froze. An envelope was sitting on the basin. It hadn’t been there before she left.

  With trembling hands, she pulled out the card. “Grant!”

  He rushed into the room and she handed him the message.

  She closed her eyes, but the big, red letters had burned themselves into her mind.

  Stay away or you’ll be next.

  ***

  Grant glared at Mallory. This conversation wasn’t going how he wanted it to. She was being stubborn, and stubborn would get her killed.

  He leaned forward, staring straight into her eyes. “You can’t go to Orlando.”

  “But we need to do something. Simon’s personal assistant knew everything that he was doing. If she doesn’t know the name of the cloud storage system he used, no one will. Barbara won’t talk to you, but she knows me.”

  John cleared his throat. “I hate to say this, but I agree with Mallory—not about going to Orlando, but about Simon’s personal assistant. She could be the fastest way to finding out if the number we have relates to a file.”

  “We have to work fast,” Mallory said. “If the people who took the photo know about the number they could have already worked out what it means. If it belongs to a file, they could have deleted it.”

  Grant frowned. “We don’t even know where Simon’s personal assistant lives.”

  John took a folder off his desk and handed it to Mallory. “Actually, we do. My team compiled a list of all the people Simon worked with and any staffing changes since he died. Barbara retired six months ago. Her phone number is in the contact list on the first page.”

  She took her cell phone out of her bag. “I’ll call her now.”

  Grant shook his head. “You can’t call her now. We need to plan what you’re going to say.”

  Mallory sighed. “We want to know what cloud storage company Simon used. If she knows, she’ll tell me.”

  “What if she’s searching for the file?”

  “Barbara is a good person. She wouldn’t have been involved in anything illegal.”

  Grant looked at his brother. “Is there any other way of getting the information ourselves?”

  “Not this quickly. We need to know what the numbers mean. Sam hasn’t been able to match the code with any system she knows about.”

  Grant knew that if Sam couldn’t find an answer, the chance of any lesser mortal working out the code was remote.

  “Fine,” he mumbled. Make the call.”

  Mallory opened the folder and ran her finger down the list of names.

  “Use my phone,” John said as he took it off its recharger. “Everything is recorded, so you won’t need to take notes. We can listen to the conversation again to make sure we haven’t missed anything.”

  “Thanks.” Mallory tapped a number into his phone and waited for someone to answer.

  Grant couldn’t sit still, so he walked across to the window overlooking Fletcher Security’s entrance. At any other time of the year, the garden below was a riot of color and shape. Not now. The trees were covered in a thick blanket of snow and the parking lot was as empty as a deserted football field. On Monday, it would be full of vehicles, all vying for the closest parks to the building.

  “Hello. Is this Barbara Whitton?”

  Mallory’s voice cut across John’s quiet office.

  Grant turned to watch her
.

  She smiled as she listened to Barbara. As their conversation continued, her voice relaxed into a comfortable rhythm.

  If he’d been on the other end of the phone, he wouldn’t have known just how crucial this conversation was.

  It sounded as though they were talking about Barbara’s family and a vacation she’d taken not long after she retired.

  When Mallory told her about living in Bozeman and the skating team she was coaching, he glanced at John. Was it too much information?

  John shook his head enough to let him know it was okay.

  Grant turned back to the window. Listening to a one-sided conversation was like waiting for a dentist to pull a tooth.

  When Mallory finally got around to asking about the cloud system, Grant couldn’t help but feel admiration for her.

  She told Barbara about the burglary—how upset she’d been when she walked into her living room. Telling Simon’s personal assistant that her photos had been stolen was smart.

  Mallory said she’d scanned all her pictures and Simon had saved them on his cloud storage account. She wanted to print copies off, but she’d forgotten which company he used.

  Grant held his breath as Mallory listened to Barbara’s response. He didn’t know what was being said, but the tears Mallory wiped from her eyes told him it wasn’t the straightforward answer he was hoping for.

  They kept talking for another ten minutes. Mallory shared more family news and promised to stay in touch. By the time she handed John his phone, Grant was confused about what kind of relationship she’d had with Barbara.

  He sat in the seat beside Mallory. “Did she know?”

  “It’s called Mercury. The reason you couldn’t find it is because they’ve encrypted the storage platform within another website. Unless you know the name of the website, you won’t be able to get in.”

  John turned on his computer. “Do you remember the website address?”

  Mallory nodded and told him. “You need to click on the investors’ tab, then add your customer number.” She handed him her phone. “Here’s the number that’s on the back of the photo.”

  Grant stood behind his brother as he typed in the number. He leaned forward, staring at the screen.