Guarding Cindy (Special Forces: Operation Alpha)

by Paige, Victoria

  Just as well anyway, since the worksheet and its supporting data was on Izzy’s hard drive and would save Cindy the time to hunt for them.

  “You have a nerve showing up here.”

  Cindy inwardly groaned even as she refused to acknowledge Rebecca who appeared at her side. The last thing she needed was this woman ruining her happy morning-after with Marcus.

  “I would say the same about you,” she replied not taking her eyes off the screen, but her fingers shook with the compulsion to strangle the other woman’s neck.

  “Excuse me?” This time Rebecca was in front of her desk.

  Cindy still refused to look at her. “You’re the one who let Trevor in. That’s a breach of company security. You should be suspended for a month.”

  “Such nerve. Keith wouldn’t have been hurt if you didn’t string men along.”

  This time, she raised her eyes to see the redhead sneering at her. “Not that it was any of your business, but Trevor broke up with me.” Rebecca’s face registered surprise. “And what do you want me to do about Keith, behave as atrociously as everyone else and make fun of him? He’s twice the person you are, Rebecca. You stir up shit because you hate Izabel and her team.”

  “I don’t know what you—”

  “Oh, cut the crap,” Cindy snapped. “You’re Mr. Bose’s pit bull. He’s annoyed he gets vetoed by the board on Izabel’s projects.”

  “She keeps donating our time and money to her special causes!” Rebecca snarled. “We don’t run a charity here.”

  “No, we don’t, but we’re helping Virginia Beach economy by replacing the ghetto areas with affordable housing, which will, in turn, drive out the gangs. Don’t you and your boss get it?”

  “What exactly don’t I get, Ms. Lake?” a growly voice spoke from the end of the hallway.

  Were she and Rebecca that loud? A group of co-workers loitered behind the approaching Mr. Bose, whose face was blotchy as if he’d run a marathon. He was huffing as his portly body finally reached her desk.

  “We’re not a charity,” Cindy whispered as she lowered her gaze to a spot on the edge of the desk.

  “Look at me,” Mr. Bose said.

  Cindy could feel the heat rise in her cheeks and could feel the twisted satisfaction radiating from Rebecca. She winced at the absolute disgust on Mr. Bose’s face.

  “I don’t care how much you twist the facts, but I’m a numbers guy and this company has donated over two million dollars in manpower and materials that we’re never gonna get back.” Mr. Bose raised his hand when Cindy was about to interject. “Shut it, Lake. You could argue we’d have some tax write-off and yes, it reflects good in the books, but Izabel keeps on disappearing when I need her to be here and uses her side projects as an excuse. Other contracts”—his eyes pierced through her—“the paying contracts, are suffering.”

  “But—”

  “For example, where’s the Laredo budget?”

  “I’m working on it, sir,” Cindy gritted, and she’d be closer to finishing if people stopped interrupting.

  “See what I mean?”

  “You just informed Izabel this morning.” At six a.m. as a matter of fact.

  “That was supposed to be on my desk two days ago, but it seems she couldn’t function without an assistant.”

  “It was my understanding that it wasn’t due until Thursday.” Which gave them three whole fucking days.

  “Are you arguing with me, Ms. Lake?”

  “No, sir, I was just—”

  “Why did you even come back? I thought you were resigning.”

  “Izzy asked me to stay for six more months.”

  Bose looked displeased. “Do everyone a favor and quit now. That’d save the company money on a deadweight like you.” He looked at his secretary. “Rebecca can do your job.”

  Cindy’s mouth fell open. Was this guy for real?

  “I hear you’ve got a sugar daddy anyway to keep you in style.” His mouth curved into a smirk before leaning in, lowering his voice so only Rebecca and Cindy could hear. “Better get your hooks into ole Harrelson. Heard he’s got a huge settlement from the oil conspiracy. You’re pretty enough. No need to use your brain too much to keep the man happy, eh?”

  She reeled disbelievingly at his audacity and glanced at Rebecca who’d froze at her boss’s lecherous words.

  Cindy lifted her chin. “That’s a highly sexist remark.”

  “Bah.” Bose leaned back, uncaring. “What’s wrong with just saying it as it is? Everyone has to walk on eggshells with this political correctness bullshit. Takes all the fun out of it.” He huffed in irritation, but seemed to backtrack, yanking at the collar of his dress shirt. “That report better be in my inbox in an hour.”

  Or else was left hanging in the air.

  Employees hanging in the hallway turned away and pretended not to look at the carnage their boss left behind. Unfortunately, Cindy felt like she’d been tied to the back of a horse-drawn carriage and dragged over rocky terrain, her high this morning deflated by cutting words.

  She couldn’t bear to look at Rebecca and stared at her screen, but her fingers were frozen over the keyboard.

  “Just get him that report,” the other woman’s voice was strained as she started to walk away.

  “How can you work for someone like him?” Cindy asked.

  Rebecca could have chosen to ignore her, but she turned and leveled her with a blank stare. “It’s a job. I have a six-year-old son to feed and I’m a single parent. Keeping Mr. Bose happy, agreeing with his agenda keeps me employed.” She took a couple of steps toward Cindy, her voice lowering. “You might want me to apologize for letting Trevor in here. Maybe I should, but I won’t. Some women don’t realize how lucky they are to have men falling over their feet for them.”

  “Is that how you see me?”

  “You and Izabel.” She smiled faintly, before her lips curved mockingly. “Don’t think we’ve suddenly become girlfriends because of this revelation. We never will be. You’ll always rub me the wrong way, golden girl.”

  Her nostrils flared before she flounced away, almost bumping into Gordy, who was rushing to her desk. Rebecca turned slightly in her direction and rolled her eyes as if saying, told ya.

  “Are you okay? Heard Bose lit into you,” Gordy said.

  “Fine,” Cindy replied, a hint of irritation in her voice. Was that how everybody saw her? Did she give off that damsel-in-distress aura that much? “Go back to work, Gordy, so I can get back to mine.”

  The security guy’s head reared back as if surprised by the acid in her tone.

  What? Couldn’t she have a bad day? Maybe Rebecca was right and she was too nice. She wasn’t after sainthood, so maybe she should change.

  “What?” she asked.

  Gordy crossed his arms. “Did Rebecca say something to you? What’s with the ’tude?”

  “I’m turning over a new leaf,” she groused and began clicking away on the laptop.

  “Sure you’re okay?”

  Cindy paused typing and glared at him.

  Gordy shook his head and chuckled, but it wasn’t from mirth, more like a feeling of something lost. “Stay sweet, Ms. Cin.”

  She didn’t acknowledge his words and continued typing, but she was aware when he left. She didn’t acknowledge anyone who passed her desk—she who was always ready with a smile and to ask about someone’s morning. Cindy just didn’t have it in her today.

  And she was okay with it.

  Cindy worked, got the numbers Bose needed, and emailed it to Izzy to check over so she could forward it to their boss. Then she called Marcus to pick her up. This work environment had turned toxic, and Cindy was not going to let it set her back.

  * * *

  Marcus frowned at the screen when he saw Cindy calling. It was barely nine. He turned away from the man before him and took the call.

  “Cin.”

  “I need for you to come get me.”

  Marcus flicked his gaze at Keith who was sittin
g like a scared rabbit across from him. “Kind of tied up right now. Is everything okay?”

  “It will be when I get out of here.”

  Fuck.

  “Listen, can you hang on for another two hours?” Marcus glared at Keith to keep his mouth shut.

  “I can catch an Uber. It’s no—”

  “Wait. Let me see if I can get a hold of Sanchez or Hutch.”

  “I thought you said the VBPD is pulling their protection.”

  “I can pull some strings. Call you back, okay? Don’t leave without hearing back from me.” After extracting an affirmative answer from Cindy, he ended the call.

  “Tex, you there?”

  “Yup,” his friend said over web-conference. “Would appreciate the heads-up before you answered that call.”

  “Sorry,” Marcus muttered.

  Tex chuckled. “Yeah, when our women say jump. We jump.”

  “Cindy isn’t like that.”

  “I was just kidding. You want me to find Sanchez?”

  “That’d be appreciated.”

  “Hold on.”

  Marcus addressed Keith. “Still waiting for an answer. Why did you install that spyware on Ms. Lake’s computer?”

  “I told you.” Keith’s voice trembled. “I was worried about her.”

  “By invading her privacy?” Marcus controlled himself, even as every fiber in his being raged to punch the computer tech. “You watched her whenever her laptop is turned on. Better tell us now if you’ve infiltrated her Wi-Fi and controlled other parts of her life.” He leaned in. “Because we’re gonna find out. One way or another.”

  Before Keith could answer, Tex came back on the line. “They can get to her in ten minutes. Could only stay until noon though, but we should be done here.”

  He called Cindy.

  “Is that necessary? I’d hate to cause all this trouble,” she said when she came on the line and he told her the plan.

  “You’ve been a victim of a stalker, your ex-boyfriend brought a gun to your office and shot an employee who tried to defend you. I’d say it’s necessary.”

  “I can stay here and wait for you.”

  Marcus considered this, he also considered the long drawn-out sigh that came over the line. “That’s my preference but … what is it, sugar? You don’t sound right.”

  “Some bullshit at work.”

  “If that bullshit at work is making you feel that way, then I don’t want you to be there.”

  “I’ll be right as rain once I see you.”

  Marcus desperately wanted to ask her about that bullshit. He had an idea, but that conversation wasn’t for the phone. His heart warmed at her last statement though.

  “I’ll tell Sanchez and Hutch to pick you up,” he said. “Text me what you want for lunch.”

  “I can cook, you know.”

  “You don’t—”

  “Marcus, you know cooking relaxes me.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  They said their goodbyes and the call ended. Returning his attention to the tech and Cindy’s laptop, he said, “If you’ve touched any part of her life, tell me now because Tex is gonna find out.”

  “Am I going to jail?” Keith asked. “All I wanted to do is protect her.”

  “Have you any reason to suspect she’s in danger?”

  “I didn’t like her boyfriend. Then when they broke up, she began receiving these hang-up calls.”

  “Still not an excuse to plant that software, kid.”

  Keith flinched when he said “kid.” Marcus did that deliberately to see if he could get a reaction. Clearly the computer tech was infatuated with Cindy. To what extent remained to be seen. Not that Marcus could blame the kid. Hell, Marcus was just as obsessed with guarding Cindy. Didn’t he install all those cameras? The difference was he wasn’t stalking, he was blatant about it.

  But after chatting with Keith in the past hour, he wasn’t picking up any dangerous vibes at all.

  “Got anything, Tex?”

  Tex had been breaking down the partitions on Cindy’s laptop while they looked on. Marcus strong-armed his way into Keith’s house, knocking on his door on the pretense that Cindy needed him to look at something on her computer. If the kid was guilty of something, he was too trusting. The moment Marcus shut the door and made his real intentions known, Keith didn’t put up much of a fight.

  “There’s control of an outside camera.”

  “The one in Cin’s toolshed?”

  “Yep.”

  “I got rid of that.”

  “No recording on Cin’s laptop. Ask genius there if he has it stored somewhere else.”

  “If you have any proof that someone’s stalking Cindy, now’s the time to fess up.”

  Keith averted his gaze.

  “You do.”

  The comp-tech’s mouth thinned, jaw clenching stubbornly.

  Marcus leaned back in his chair. “Unless you have evidence that’s self-incriminating.”

  Keith’s eyes widened, surprised. “No, I …” He gulped. “I do have something.”

  Chapter 13

  “Cindy!”

  She had just gotten out of the squad car and turned to see Angela hurrying toward her. Her neighbor had been lying low in terms of loitering in the neighborhood. Cindy figured she was trying to avoid Mrs. Jung. For that matter, she had not seen Danny nor his cable van since that day of the kimchi incident.

  She knew Angela had been keeping Sanchez and Hutch topped up with iced tea and food. Both policemen had sheepishly rang her doorbell to use her toilet.

  “Hi, Mrs. Tilley!” Sanchez greeted enthusiastically.

  “Officers,” she hurried up to them. “Keeping our girl safe from the neighborhood bogeyman?”

  “Sure are.” This from Hutch, who stepped out of the vehicle and puffed up his chest somewhat.

  Cindy inwardly snickered. From what she’d learned from her brief conversations with the cops, Hutch was divorced and it was looking like he had a crush on Angela. At that moment, she was wearing cut-off shorts, a white tee with a colorful abstract art painted on, Birkenstocks and a farmer’s straw hat covering her silvery-blonde hair.

  “I’m glad you’re home early. Does that mean you can help me make elderberry jam now instead of tonight?”

  It seemed like a good idea. That way her afternoon and evening would be free to spend with Marcus.

  When Cindy didn’t answer immediately, the other woman frowned. “You’re still helping me with the jams, right? My wrists are better, but I fear I can’t lift the copper preserving pans when they’re full of bubbling fruit.”

  “Of course I am. I was just thinking about Marcus and our evening.”

  Angela’s lips thinned for a split second before tilting into a tight smile, her eyes cooling before she shifted her attention to the guys.

  “It’s gonna be another one of those Indian summer days, isn’t it?” She glanced up at the sun that was rising up to its ten a.m. glare. “How about some mint limeade this time, officers?”

  “Angela, they’re not staying that long.” Cindy didn’t know how against protocol these cops were being by accepting Good Samaritan acts from the neighbors. She didn’t want them to get into trouble.

  “Pshaw, everyone has time for a snack,” Angela said. “I’ve got a pan of brownies just out of the oven too. They are mostly what I can bake these days on my own.” She winked at Cindy, seemingly changing her mood. Cindy doubted it was one of the woman’s pot brownies. She wouldn’t be so blatant about sharing them with cops. Danny told her his mom used pot to manage the pain of her fibromyalgia and looked like she was more chipper than usual. Maybe she was managing her ailment better, seeing that her son wasn’t around.

  “That sounds good.” Hutch looked hopeful.

  Angela smiled with satisfaction. “I’ll rustle up a snack for you guys while Cindy freshens up and gets into comfier clothes.” She eyed the pencil-cut skirt and button-down blouse she was wearing with disdain. “See you in a bit?”r />
  * * *

  Cindy stepped out of her house and shot off a text to Marcus to pick up lunch. She imagined it would take her a couple of hours at Angela’s house. The unusual heat wave at the end of September had her putting on her running shorts, a tank, and her ratty canvas sneakers. The last time she helped Angela in the kitchen, Danny wasn’t around. The woman begged her to help her weed her herb plot. Today, Cindy had no intention of getting her hands dirty, but it was always good to be prepared even though she was resolved not to get drawn into any extra chore that Angela might have for her.

  She waved at her police protectors. Sanchez was waving back, his puffed-up cheeks reminding her of a hamster, but obviously full of brownies. How much sweets did Angela give them?

  The Tilleys’ house had a similar floor plan to hers except theirs had an extra bedroom. But as Cindy’s space was bathed in light, theirs was draped in darkness. Angela said the light hurt her eyes which Cindy doubted because she spent so much time in her garden growing medicinal herbs.

  Angela opened the door just as Cindy made it up the porch steps. Goose bumps rose on her arms, but Cindy chalked that up to the sudden shade of the porch on her heated skin and not by the knowledge that her neighbor was watching her from the window. Still, the darkened interior revealed by the open door wasn’t all that inviting.

  The older woman tipped her chin at her attire. “Glad to see you out of those restrictive clothes.”

  Cindy wasn’t usually confrontational when barbs were targeted at her, but it was time to stand up for herself. “There’s nothing restrictive with what I wore earlier. It was appropriate for the office just like these clothes I’m wearing now are perfect for working around the home.” She moved past Angela and entered the house. “Let’s get started so we can be done earlier.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Angela spoke behind her. “You’ve got beautiful blond hair but wearing that white button-down shirt and gray pencil skirt washes out your tan. It’s just not you.”

  By this time, Cindy made it to the kitchen.