by Desiree Holt
“I don’t think anything yet. I’m just trying to get as much information as I can so I have an idea where to start digging. Tell me about their social life.”
“Social life?”
“Peyton. I truly believe that whoever did this has to have a connection with Dane somewhere, somehow. The two places people make connections like that are work and socializing.”
“Okay, let me think.” She nibbled her lip again, the unconscious habit driving him crazy. “Whenever I visited them, the three of us usually went out to dinner. A couple of times, we were joined by another couple. I swear, though, they didn’t talk about anything that sent up flags. Mostly sports, events they attended, stuff like that. Both guys were big sports junkies.”
And on it went. But at the end of two hours, he realized he’d have to go way back and dig heavily into Dane Hollister’s life. Track what he did at work, which could be a bitch since so much would be confidential. And shit like this could be twisted and complicated and have its roots in something years ago. He squeezed every drop of information out of Peyton that she had in her brain before closing out his Notes app.
“I’ll need to go through all this, put it in some kind of order and find the best starting place.” He leaned forward. “There’s no telling how far in the past the beginning of this might be, but I’ll dig until I find it. Did you program my number into your phone?”
“I did.” She wetted her lips.
The sight of her tongue just peeping out made his cock cry out for relief.
Jesus Christ, Hamilton. This is a client. You better go stick your dick in the freezer.
But there was something so appealing about Peyton West, so tempting, something that affected more than his cock. And that was the last thing he needed to think about right now. Where was he? Phone number. Right.
“And I’ve got yours.”
“I’m easy to find, anyway. I’m either at the hospital or the hotel.” She rattled off the name of one familiar to him.
“I’m surprised you’re not staying at your sister’s house.”
“I wouldn’t be comfortable there. I’m fine at the hotel, and it’s close to the hospital, where I spend most of my time anyway.”
He pushed himself off the couch. “I’ll tell Saint he can land us now. As soon as we’re down, I’m going to get on with some research, starting with your brother-in-law and his law firm. Tomorrow morning I’ll hit the police station in the area where the accident occurred.”
“You really think Dane is somehow mixed into what happened?”
“I don’t think anything yet, but I’m going to look at every single thing.”
“Whatever you think best. This is what you do.”
He nodded. “Yes, it is. And I’ll do it as fast as I can.”
“Speed isn’t important.” Sadness washed over her face. “Dane isn’t going anywhere, and at the moment, neither is Brianne.”
“We’ll get it done. We always do.”
“Can we get back to your fee for a minute? I’d really like to get that out of the way. I assume when you checked me out you know I’m a multi-published author. I make good money, Mr. Hamilton. I can pay you. I want to pay you.”
“I know you can but, again, let’s see what all the job really entails. What all is involved here. We have sort of a sliding scale for fees.” He grinned. “Depending on how much we like the client.”
“I want this to be fair,” she protested. “I have resources. I’m not a charity case, just because your brother recommended me.”
Blaze inched forward, reached over and took one of her hands in his. The contact nearly fried his nerve endings. All he could think was, What the hell? His second thought was, Thank fuck for my control or I’d embarrass myself. But he forced himself to look directly at her, capturing her attention.
“Please. Let’s forget money for the moment. Okay?”
She sighed and nodded.
“How much did my brother tell you about Galaxy?”
She shrugged. “Just that you all won some money and decided that you wanted to take the skills you learned as SEALs and put them to use helping people in civilian life.”
He chuckled. “That’s a pretty basic way of looking at it, but I think my brother is not at all impressed with us.”
She frowned. “Oh, no. He couldn’t say enough good things about you. He told me that if anyone could get to the truth here, it was you and your partners.”
“I’ll have to be sure and thank him. But here’s the deal. Obviously, we don’t spread the details around, but since you came recommended by Nolan, I feel comfortable sharing some of them with you. Maybe that will help.”
He watched a little of the tension leave her body. “Okay. I just know that all this”—she waved her hand around the cabin of the plane—“doesn’t come cheap.”
“You’re right, but here’s the reason we can do it, my partners and me. We’ve been friends for a long time. Went into the SEALs together, although we ended up on different teams. Got out at the same time. Had a big celebratory dinner and decided to test our luck as civilians by buying Powerball lottery tickets.”
“Lottery? Powerball? I’m guessing you won?”
He nodded. “The big prize. A little over a billion dollars.”
Blaze thought her jaw would hit the floor. “Did you say a billion?”
“I did.” He realized he was still holding her hand and gave it a little squeeze. “So you can see why we can be, shall I say, flexible in our fees. And picky about our clients.”
“And you bought the plane.”
“We did. We didn’t want an office in the usual sense. We knew that most of the clients we’d get would not want to be in a place where they could be overheard. Here we can control access and contain things.”
“And the name, Galaxy?”
Blaze found himself grinning. “Because the sky’s the limit.” Then he turned serious. “So you see, we have the resources to dig into your problem and the flexibility to charge whatever we want to.”
“I won’t let you do this for free,” she insisted. “My books sell very well. I have the funds to pay you.”
“I wouldn’t agree to it, anyway. Payment of any kind is what legitimizes a contract. But let’s see what we’re getting into first.” He rose from the couch. “I’m going to tell Saint to take us back to the hangar.” He looked at his watch. “It’s close to seven o’clock. Could I interest you in dinner?”
“Thank you, but I’m going back to the hospital. Studies have shown that most patients in a hospital die at night and often on the weekends. I’m praying that my sister recovers, but I don’t want her to be there alone.”
“Totally understand. Let me just get Saint turned around. I’ll be right back.”
“You done already?” Saint turned his head when Blaze entered the cockpit.
“We are.” He dropped into the co-pilot seat.
“Is that a good thing or a bad? You writing her off or signing her up?”
“It’s complicated. At first blush, this doesn’t seem like a Galaxy case, but the more she talked, the more pissed-off I got at the way she’s been treated.”
“Yeah? You taking up for the downtrodden?”
Blaze snorted. “That hardly describes her. She’s feisty and angry and rightfully so. I think she’s been screwed over by people more powerful than she even realizes. Digging them out will be a challenge.”
Saint chuckled. “You always did have a Sir Galahad complex.”
“Maybe.” Blaze winked, but then sobered. “I’m telling you, Saint, something smells here to high heaven. The police don’t write up a one-page report on a hit and run and leave out practically all the details unless something is cooking. No one saw anything, can’t even identify what kind of car it is and they basically want to make it all go away. I listened to everything she said and the whole thing shrieks of cover-up.”
“So it’s a go.”
“It is. Let’s land this thing so I can
get hold of everyone else and brief them. This is all that’s on our plate right now, so I want to get the others involved for as long as we can.”
“Got it.”
Peyton hadn’t moved from her position, sitting erect in her seat and holding her wineglass. Blaze dropped to the couch again and leaned forward.
“We’ll be making our descent shortly. You going back to the hospital from here?”
“I am.”
“Okay. I’ll say prayers for your sister.”
A tiny smile curved her lips. “Thank you.”
“We’ll find out the truth,” he promised, knowing suddenly that he wasn’t going to rest until he did. “Would you like a refill on the wine?”
She shook her head. “One will have to do it for me. I want to be alert when I get to the hospital.”
“I can only imagine the emotional stress you’re under. In the SEALs, it was tough enough watching your friend severely injured or dying, but your sister? That’s a killer.”
“And something you never expect to do,” She rubbed her thumb against the stem of the empty wineglass. “My sister was a wonderful woman. Although we each went our own way as we got older, we always stayed close. We both had interests in what you’d call the arts. I became a writer and Brianne became a respected commercial photographer. She did stuff for brochures and magazines. The last year or so, she was branching out into landscapes and wanted to do a coffee table book.”
“Two smart, talented women,” Blaze observed.
“Even though we lived pretty far apart, we were still close. And we always managed a girls’ weekend, just the two of us, once a year.”
“Sounds like you two are friends as well as sisters.”
“We were. Are,” she corrected herself. “She’s still with us and will be, whatever it takes.”
He understood that kind of fierce connection. Although he was an only child, his Galaxy partners had been his friends since they were teenagers. Closer than some people were with blood relatives. He definitely could relate to what she was feeling.
“How long were she and Dane married?”
“Six years. They were beginning to think about children.”
That saddened him, for a life to be cut short for what seemed like no reason.
“We can’t bring him back, but we can certainly get some answers, for you and your sister both.”
At that moment, the plane began to bank. Blaze made sure Peyton had fastened her seat belt before clicking his into place.
Peyton glanced out the window. “I guess we’re on approach.”
“We are. I’ll be getting to work on this as soon as we land.” He wanted to say something that would ease the strain running through her, but he knew only answers to her questions would do that.
“Thank you.”
When they landed and the stairs had opened, he helped Peyton descend then walked with her to where her car was parked. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off the sway of her nicely rounded ass or the way her thick ponytail swished as she moved. When they reached her car, she turned and held out her hand to him. Her palm was soft against his and he wondered if her skin was soft all over. Worse yet, electricity sparked between them and nearly burned a hole in his hand.
Jesus holy hell, Hamilton. This is a fucking client. Without the fucking part.
In his entire life, he had never felt his discipline compromised the way it seemed to be with Peyton West. He was stunned at the intense connection between them, something he’d never had with another woman. And what could he do about it? She was a client. He’d damn well better figure out what the hell was going on, and fast.
But he noticed that she reacted to the contact, too, something flaring in her eyes and a tiny gasp escaping her lips. Apparently, she also had major control, because outside that infinitesimal reaction, he’d never have known the contact had affected her.
He’d better keep his shit together.
“I don’t want to scare you,” he said, “but has it occurred to you that whoever is behind all of this—not just the accident but the coverup—could have it in mind to eliminate you and your sister, also?”
Every bit of blood drained from her already pale face.
“You mean…” Her voice trailed off.
“I mean that Dane knew something that got him killed. What if whoever this is thinks your sister knows it, too? What if the hit and run was meant to kill both of them? And what if whoever this is gets nervous about you raking this all up and looking for answers?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” She nibbled on her lower lip.
The sight of it made Blaze’s balls ache. Fucking shit. Was he sixteen years old? And this was a damn client.
“I think we should discuss some kind of protection for you.”
She looked up at him. “I wish I had my gun with me.”
His eyes nearly bugged out of his head. That was among the top ten things he hadn’t expected to hear from her. “You carry a gun?”
Her lips curved in the first genuine smile of the day. “I live in Texas. I think it’s a requirement.”
Blaze thought for a moment. “Texas has reciprocity with Florida. If you let me check you out on the gun range and your score’s respectable, we’ll fix you up.”
“Really?”
“My preference would be to have protection of some kind with you and your sister at all times, but—”
She turned even paler at his words. “You think someone would come after us in the hospital?”
“I do,” he acknowledged. “You’re with her there most of the time, and basically unprotected. It’d be easy enough for someone to slip into the hospital, find your room number and take care of business.”
“How soon can we do the gun range?”
“Late tomorrow afternoon sound good to you? I can pick you up at the hospital.”
She chewed on her lip again and Blaze ground his teeth, searching for his self-control.
“Yes. That would be good. Can you text me when you’re on the way?”
He nodded. “Maybe around four? I want to meet with my partners during the day and see what kind of research we can get done.”
“What about Brianne? Is she safe? Will whoever this is try to finish the job with her?”
“Until I can make better arrangements, I’ll ask my brother to have hospital security make regular checks on the room.”
“Thank you.” She blew out a breath. “Thank you so much. Is this a usual part of your services?”
He laughed. “Nothing is usual in our business. Anything goes when it’s in the best interests of the client.”
“Well, thank you again for taking this on.”
“We’ll get to the root of this. I promise you.”
“Thank you.” Relief washed over her face. “I didn’t want to ask you, but—”
“But we’re all human. I understand. And I’ll definitely give you a call in the morning.”
They walked back to the hangar in silence. Peyton looked drained, as if she’d used the last bit of her energy and was trying to recharge her batteries before heading to the hospital. Blaze could only imagine the emotional stress she was dealing with. He didn’t like to make things personal. It could clutter up one’s thinking when working an op.
“I’ll be jumping on this right away,” he assured her again as he walked her to her car.
“I can’t tell you what a relief it is to have you believe something is wrong here. Someone who doesn’t keep trying to convince me that I’m nuts and to leave it all alone.”
“Oh, there’s definitely something out of whack here, but that’s the kind of stuff we thrive on. We’ll get to the truth, I promise you. See you tomorrow afternoon.”
He was still standing there, staring after the retreating vehicle, when Saint joined him.
“Plane all set in the hangar?” Blaze asked.
“It is. How did it go with the client?”
“I took the case. It’s a fucking mess.”
Saint laughed. “Just the kind you all like.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck as if working out the stiffness of the muscles.
What he really wanted to do was strip off all of Peyton West’s clothes and lick every inch of her. What the fuck was wrong with him? For a man whose discipline was legendary, he was having a fucking hard time sending that message to his body. He needed a cold shower. Maybe two, so he could work. And get his client out of his head.
“Listen.” Saint rubbed his chin. “It’s been a wild and hairy couple of days. I’m thinking of heading to the boat and disconnecting for a while, unless you have objections.”
Saint lived in a marina on Hillsborough Bay on a sport yacht he’d outfitted with every possible luxury. Whenever he had time off, he disappeared to somewhere, but always came back in great shape, mentally and physically. Blaze was so tempted to quiz him about where he’d gone, but he respected the man’s privacy too much. Unless, of course, it became a problem, but that wasn’t on the horizon.
“No objections. I’m heading home to dig into this.”
“Peyton West seems a very troubled woman.”
Blaze shoved his hands into his pockets and stared off down the driveway where Peyton’s car had driven off.
“Troubled doesn’t describe it. She’s got a nasty situation and everyone’s giving her shit. And she’s scared to death for her sister. Worried whoever is behind the coverup of the hit and run will want to take her out, too. I smell money, power and politics at work here.”
“Always a combustible combination,” Saint agreed. “You sure you want to get into this?”
Blaze’s smile was grim. “Damn straight. Okay, take off and air it out. I’m planning to call the others as soon as I get home.”
“If you need another meeting, call me.”
“And you’d come back when you finally have a couple of days off?”
Saint looked at him, something flickering in his eyes.
“You guys saved my ass when everyone else wrote me off. Hell, yes, I’d come back. This is my world, too.”
For a moment Blaze was overcome with emotion. The bond that tied all of them together wasn’t something he could explain to anyone, but he was damn glad of it.