There was loud applause when Josh finished singing. Morrison signaled to one of the kids to bring him his cane. He was getting out of there before he got trapped during lunch and led down the long road of reminiscing.
“Oh, we’re not finished yet,” Caroline said, making him groan as he sat back in his chair. “The children have prepared one last special song for you.”
As they rushed onto the stage and the first bars of music played, Reverend Morrison knew that this was God’s retribution for being the world’s most surly minister. Because the children were singing, ‘So Long, Farewell,’ from The Sound of Music.
Betty Wants Grandkids
This story happens between Relentless and Rage, after Caught in the Invertary books.
Betty McLeod pushed open the door to the Eye Spy security shop and stomped inside.
“Outta ma way!” She swung her handbag at Lake Benson’s newest recruit, hitting him in the stomach.
“Oof.” The wimp rubbed his belly and glared down at her.
Betty just smirked at him. It would be a cold day in hell before she was intimidated by an oversized pup. Lake was hiring his security team members younger and younger these days. This one used to be a cop. Betty narrowed her eyes at him. She couldn’t see it. He barely looked old enough to shave.
She stalked to her La-Z-Boy and plopped into it. Wiggling until she got her bum in just the right dent to make it comfortable.
“You want to stop hitting my team?” Lake said from behind the counter.
“No.” Betty scowled at the man she considered her son. “They’re in the way. Can’t you send them out on a job? Somewhere dangerous.”
Lake’s lip twitched, which for him was equivalent to showing full-blown hysteria. Now he didn’t look like a boy. He looked like a proper man, capable of taking care of any situation he came across. There was a touch of gray coming in around the temple area of his blond hair, but apart from that, he looked just as fierce and handsome as when she’d first met him. Some people found the ex-SAS specialist intimidating. Not Betty. She considered Lake to be her equal—someone brave enough to stand up to her. Not that he ever won, mind you.
“Get me a cup of tea, princess,” she ordered the newbie.
Max’s jaw clenched as he stared at Lake. “I swear, one of these days, I will kill her and bury the body where no one can find it.”
“Get in line,” Lake said with a snort.
“Am I getting my tea?” Betty snapped. “I’m not getting any younger here.”
“Astrid,” Lake called into the back room, “bring Satan a cup of tea. Double the arsenic this time.”
There was a giggle. Astrid was another spineless addition to Benson Security. “When are you going to hire some grown-ups?” Betty said. “Our team is meant to be scary. This lot couldn’t intimidate a flea. I mean, look at him.” She pointed at the new guy, Max. “Get. A. Haircut.”
“Lake…” The man-child clenched and unclenched his fists, making Betty cackle.
“See what I mean?” Betty pointed at Max. “If that’s supposed to scare me, then he’s wasting his time. Are you sure he was in the police? Was it the real police force, or those guys in ill-fitting uniforms that patrol shopping centers?”
“I’m going to…” Max took a step toward her.
Betty was unimpressed. She dismissed him with a roll of her eyes before raking around in her handbag.
“Max,” Lake said. “Go take a break.”
“Aye,” Betty said as she brought out a brown paper bag with a steaming hot Scotch pie inside. “Away and powder your nose.”
He let out a strangled growl and slammed the front door behind him when he left.
“Quit winding up the staff,” Lake ordered.
“Quit hiring namby-pamby wee bairns.” She took a bite of her pie. “Where’s my tea?” she said around a mouthful of food, almost losing her false teeth in the process.
A piece of crust fell out her mouth and onto her favorite tartan dress. She picked it up and popped it back in. When she looked up, Lake was shaking his head at her.
“What?” she demanded.
“I swear you get worse every year.”
“Thanks.” She gave him a grin.
There was a noise behind Lake, and a tall, gangly brunette came through carrying a tray with a teapot, a cup and a plate of biscuits. Betty sniffed. Okay, so maybe not all the new recruits were totally useless.
The girl put the tray on the table beside Betty’s old chair, which sat in the corner of the shop. She scurried away, without even looking Betty in the eye.
“I thought you said this one had more backbone than the last receptionist?” Although to be fair, at least Betty saw Astrid now and then; she’d only ever spotted Julia from a distance.
“She’s perfectly fine around normal people,” Lake said.
Betty took his dig as a compliment. She’d never aspired to normalcy.
“You know, it’s sexist to hire women for reception and men as security specialists.” She took another bite of her pie.
“I have women on my security team.”
“Aye, Megan Donaldson.” Betty shook her head in disgust. “I don’t see why you made her a trainee but wouldn’t make me one. Her only experience is dyeing the Baxter sheep pink. I have a lot more tricks than that up my sleeve.”
Lake stopped going over the paperwork in front of him. “You’re eighty-nine. You’re too old to be a trainee.”
“I’m still fit.” She sat up straighter as though that would prove it.
“A snail can run faster than you.”
“But can it outthink me?” She tapped her temple.
Lake huffed a laugh. “I’m not taking you on as a trainee. You’re a liability just hanging out in the shop.”
“Coward. I’m going to call Callum and make him give me a job in London. He’s got more spine than you and a better attitude. He’s my favorite now.”
“I’ll make sure to give him a call and congratulate him.”
Betty narrowed her eyes at him. “At least he’s Scottish.”
Lake pointed to his face. “Look how little I care,” he said in that poncey English accent of his.
Betty had just opened her mouth to tell him where to stick his amused face, when the door opened and Lake’s wife, Kirsty, walked in. She spotted Betty and her shoulders slumped, brightening Betty’s day no end.
“Great, you’re here,” Kirsty said to Betty before rounding the counter to give Lake a kiss.
“This is my chair,” Betty said. It’d been her chair for years. Ever since she’d owned the town’s only underwear shop. She’d commanded an empire from that chair. “Where else would I be?”
“I thought you’d joined the Domino Boys. I thought you were playing dominoes at the pub.” Kirsty leaned into Lake, her long red hair curling about her face and around the scars on her neck—a reminder of the car accident, years earlier, that had ended her modeling career.
“I did.” Betty tugged at her hairnet to straighten it before reaching for her tea. “But they were boring. All they talk about is their ailments. If I wanted to listen to that crap, I’d hang out at the doctor’s surgery. What happened to real men? The ones who’d lose a limb, grit their teeth and get on with it? Like our new London boss. Callum lost his legs, but do you hear him whine about it? No. Whereas other men whine like two-year-olds when they stub their bloody toes. I blame the estrogen. They’ve added it to the water. Now men cry at the least wee thing, and then they grow boobs.” She eyed Lake’s chest thoughtfully. “You look okay, but I’d keep an eye on it.”
“You’re talking rubbish again. Nobody’s added estrogen to the water,” Kirsty said before shaking her head and turning to Lake. “I need to talk to you. In private.”
“Don’t worry,” Betty said. “You can talk here. My lips are sealed.”
They both looked at her like there were soap bubbles coming out of her mouth.
Kirsty’s lips thinned. “We’re not talking about
our private business in front of you, so you can get that thought right out of your head.”
“Why not? I know everything anyway.” Honestly, she was beginning to think Kirsty was losing IQ points as she got older. Betty remembered her as being much smarter as a child. Hell, back then she’d at least had the good sense to run when she saw Betty coming.
Kirsty looked up at Lake. “Let’s go upstairs to your office.”
He ran a hand down his wife’s hair, and his face softened. “Okay.”
“Look,” Betty said. “If this is about you not being able to have bairns, I already know.”
Kirsty gasped, and Lake’s face hardened.
“What?” Betty held up her hands. “Was it a secret? I don’t see what all the fuss is about. So you can’t have babies. Neither could I, and everything turned out fine for me.”
“Betty,” Lake rumbled in the tone he used to intimidate the minions.
She snorted her amusement. It was sweet when he thought that would work on her. She dug into her handbag and brought out some papers she’d printed off from her new computer.
“Back in my day,” she said, “we didn’t have the interweb. Now you can get anything on there. Even kids. I had a look for you and circled the ones I like.” She thrust out an arm, papers in hand, shaking it when nobody took them.
With a tight frown, Lake leaned over the counter and took the papers. He smoothed them out in front of him while Kirsty continued to gape at her.
“How do you know about the…the…” The color drained from her face.
“About the injuries from the accident meaning you can’t have babies?” Betty tapped her nose. “I have my sources. That’s why Lake should hire me as a trainee.”
“But…but…” Kirsty looked up at Lake as she turned even whiter.
“Don’t faint,” Lake ordered, like that would stop it happening. He reached behind him, pulled up a stool, and lifted Kirsty onto it. “Astrid? Water!”
A couple of seconds later, the new receptionist scurried through with a bottle of water, took one look at their faces, and ran away again.
“No backbone,” Betty said in disgust.
“How do you know about Kirsty’s situation?” Lake’s deadly tone would have made anyone else pee their pants. Not Betty. Mainly it just made her beam with pride.
“That doesn’t matter.” She waved a dismissive hand. “The point is, you two need to stop feeling sorry for yourselves and give me some grandkids. I’m not getting any younger, and I want to pass on my knowledge before I kick the bucket.”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Kirsty said.
“Drama queen,” Betty muttered as she wriggled her way out of her chair and stomped over to the counter. She spread out the papers. “I saw on the interweb that you can get babies from all over the world. That actress, Angela Jolly, has one from every continent. You can pick them out with your shopping, and they deliver them. I’m not sure how much they cost. The web people were a bit offended when I asked and wondered if I was an undercover cop or something.” She beamed at them. “Must be the security training paying off. Anyway, I’m sure you make enough money to afford a couple.” She pulled another piece of paper toward her. “This place will even let you put in an order, and they’ll get you exactly what you want.”
Kirsty groaned and put her head between her knees.
Betty ignored her. “I already sent them a computer letter asking if they could get us one with red hair and an English accent, just in case you want a kid that’s like the two of you.”
“I’m going to pass out,” Kirsty wailed.
Lake pinched the bridge of his nose and took several deep breaths before looking at Betty. His eyes were ice. Betty cocked her head and considered him. She’d never seen that look before.
“Satan, you’ve outdone yourself this time.” Lake pointed at the website that said they’d provide kids to order. “This is bloody illegal. They’re probably kidnapping children. I don’t even know how you found this site, but I’ll pass it on to my government contacts and get it shut down.”
Betty looked at the printout and frowned. “I found it on the hidden interweb.”
“You mean the dark web?” Lake’s voice sounded tinny. “How the hell did you get onto the dark web?”
“I watched a video. Now that I think about it, the guy who told you how to do it didn’t show his face. I thought he was camera shy. I should have guessed he was a criminal. Now, if I’d had Benson Security training, I wouldn’t have made that mistake.”
Lake’s jaw clenched.
Betty ignored him and pointed to a Chinese organization. “What about one of these? This wee lassie looks feisty; I like that. That’s if you want a girl. I don’t see the problem, girls are smarter, but you might want a boy.”
“Please, tell me you realize that adopting a child isn’t the same as picking out new curtains?” Kirsty said, still facing the floor.
Betty looked at the printouts, then up at Lake who shook his head to tell her not to answer the question.
“I don’t see why you’re making a fuss. You wanted kids. I sorted it for you. The least you could do is say thanks.” Betty grinned. “And name your daughter after me. Betty Benson. Sounds good, aye?”
With a whistled tune and a spring in her step, Betty left them to think about it. As the door closed behind her, she headed back for the pub and the Domino Boys. She put her hand into her huge bag and pulled out something else she’d found on the interweb. It was a gift for the Domino Boys. She grinned at the knitted plaque that said: Domino Players Do It With Viagra. She planned to tell them it was from the Knit or Die women and get Dougal to put it up behind the bar.
With a cackle, she watched the sun sparkle on the loch as she headed down Main Street. Maybe she’d get some fern cakes on the way. It seemed like the perfect day for cake.
“Take a deep breath,” Lake said as he crouched in front of his wife.
“That woman is the bane of my life.” Kirsty’s big blue eyes stared into his soul, and Lake felt his heart melt all over again.
She was perfection. And she was his.
“How did she know about my fertility problems?” Kirsty said.
“I think she’s bugged the place,” Lake said. “I found discrepancies in the inventory. A couple of listening devices were missing.”
“Please.” Kirsty put a hand on his cheek. “Please let one of the new team members take her out.”
His head fell back, and he roared with laughter. Only Kirsty could make it bubble out of him. He pressed a gentle kiss to her soft, pink lips.
“I can’t do that. She’d just come back to haunt us.”
“There is that.” Kirsty pushed her hair out of her face. “You’re going to shut down that disgusting baby operation though, right?”
“Oh yes,” Lake promised. Even if he had to do it personally.
“And maybe you should restrict your pet Hobbit’s internet access while you’re at it,” Kirsty said.
Lake figured he had more chance of getting the world to spin in a different direction. “I’ll get right on that,” he said instead.
Kirsty wasn’t fooled, but her eyes sparkled as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ve got the tickets.”
He felt a rush of adrenaline surge through him. “When do we leave?”
“Tonight. Ten o’clock flight out of Glasgow. I’ve packed already.” Her eyes filled with tears, which she blinked back rapidly. “Can you believe we’re going to get our baby?”
“I can’t wait.” Lake gave her a hard kiss that left them both breathless. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead on hers. “You know Betty will think this was her idea.”
Kirsty let out a sigh. “I don’t care what she thinks, but we aren’t calling our daughter Betty. We can get a dog and name it after her. A Doberman. One that drools.”
Lake chuckled. “Come on, let’s get out of here and get on the road.”
“You’re right, we need to get g
oing,” Kirsty said as he stood and tugged her to her feet. “It’s a long drive to Glasgow.”
“It’s an even longer flight to China,” Lake said.
“I can’t wait,” Kirsty whispered as they walked out into Invertary’s main street.
Aunty Megan Saves the Day
This story takes place after Relentless and before Rage.
Megan hung up after the call from her mother and promptly sent a text to every member of Benson Security’s Scottish office.
Code Green, was all it said.
She raced down the stairs of the house she’d grown up in, grabbed the go-bag she’d stashed in the closet beside the front door when she’d arrived from London, and ran outside. Slamming the door behind her.
“Hey,” Dimitri called from where he was clearing out a lifetime’s worth of ‘man-junk’ from her dad’s garage. “What’s the rush?”
“Code Green,” she said as she yanked open the door to their SUV.
Dimitri stopped wrapping the cord around the third sander he’d found, tossed it on the bench and jogged toward her. “I’ll drive.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m faster.”
“I’m safer.”
“We don’t need safe. We need fast.”
“Did you text your brother?” he asked as he blocked her from climbing into the car.
“Aye.”
“Then we’ll have a police escort, and we’ll go fast. Fast but safe—so long as you aren’t driving. Get your ass in the passenger seat, Buffy. Time’s a wasting.”
With a huff and a frown, she stomped around the car. “You have one little car crash, and you’re branded for life,” she muttered.
“One?” Dimitri arched an eyebrow at her, his eyes glittering with amusement.
“Or two,” she conceded. Did a crash count if she wasn’t the one who’d been injured? “Maybe three, if you count the time we ran Grunt off the road.”
“Everybody counts that time.” Dimitri put the SUV in gear and headed for the main road out of town.
A Little Something Extra: Short Stories from the Invertary and Benson Security World Page 6