Benediction: Diversion Book 9

by Eden Winters

  Saturday morning, Lucky fielded calls from his parents, Walter, Rett, and even Mrs. Griggs his former landlady, checking to see if they were all right.

  Charlotte received a call and, casting a suspicious glance Lucky’s way, made herself scarce.

  One day soon, he’d have a talk with the man on the other end of the line. The conscience that sounded one hell of a lot like Bo said, “He’s calling her. He’s checking on her. He’s being good to her. It’s your business how?”

  The illogical side that ruled most of Lucky’s actions said, “Bah! Humbug!”

  They all stayed home pretending everything was fine.

  He walked to the couch, Andro in his arms, and didn’t have to step over a furry lump to get there. Then again, he wouldn’t mind navigating around a horse-sized dog. If only Moose were here. For a moment Lucky’s heart ached. Poor dog. Hurt protecting Charlotte.

  Two family members now saved by Moose: Charlotte, from attackers, Bo from depression.

  Mostly, the family sprawled in front of the TV, watching comedies that weren’t nearly as funny as Lucky once thought.

  He accidently set off the alarm system, three times.

  Monday came all too soon. Bo volunteered to drop Ty off at school on his way to an early meeting. Lucky eyed the clock. About time for him to get on the road too.

  Leaving Charlotte and Andro alone.

  “You’re sure you’re all right?” he asked his sister over a breakfast of eggs, pinto beans, and mashed sweet potatoes. Ah, the joys of the pregnant belly.

  “Yes, Lucky.” Charlotte squeezed more maple syrup onto her sweet potatoes.

  “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” he asked while putting away the dishes she’d washed.

  “Yes, Lucky,” Charlotte paused cooing at Andro long enough to say. “I’m going to hit you if you ask one more time.”

  “But…”

  Charlotte spun, coming nose to nose with him. Damned her high-heeled boots. “Lucky, I swear I’m okay. You can go to work.” She gave his shoulder a push, shoving him toward the front door. “Please! You’re driving me crazy.” She nodded at the child in her arms. “Andro too.”

  Was the kid scowling?

  Lucky dug his heels in. “I don’t want you here by yourself.” What if some other assholes showed up? With guns, not knives, since they now knew the intended victim fought back.

  Too quickly, she said, “I won’t be.”

  Oh, really? He narrowed his eyes. “Who?” Better not be Salters. “But he’ll protect her!” he heard in Bo’s voice.

  “If you must know, Rett is spending the day with me. She’ll be here in about an hour.” Charlotte lifted her chin a defiant inch. “Really, brother. Li’l ole me can take care of herself.”

  Lucky chose not to acknowledge her “taking care of herself” comment. He’d promised when they were kids to always be there for her. She shouldn’t have to take care of herself. He’d never say so aloud or she’d kick his ass. “She’s taking a vacation day? I could take time off too.” He should’ve thought of it first. Was it too late?

  “I’d rather you go to work. You’re a little, how shall I say this? Overbearing? Irritating? A pain in the ass?”

  Wow. The knife struck deeper than he’d thought it would. “You mean to tell me you’d rather a near stranger stay with you than your own brother?”

  Charlotte released a guffaw. Andro giggled. “Rett is not a near stranger. Do you hear yourself?” She bowed to a group of imaginary people, making Andro giggle again. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, may I present exhibit A?” With a dramatic flourish, she waved a hand toward Lucky. “Your attitude is exactly why you’re not the best choice.” She softened her tone. “I mean, I love you and appreciate your wanting to protect me, but really. Two guys broke in. One’s in the hospital still and the other’s in jail. Could you have handled the situation any better?”

  What would Lucky have done? Probably the same thing Charlotte did: kick ass and take names. “But you’re staying here, right?”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes and let out a snort. “No. We’re going to the vet to pick up Moose. The poor baby.”

  Yeah, Lucky needed to drop by the pet shop and get the biggest dog treat he could find, and maybe a catnip mouse. He dared not piss off Cat Lucky. “But…”

  “No buts, Lucky. Rett and I both have concealed carry permits, and are pretty good with a gun and our fists. Besides, have you seen her? Who in their right mind would make a move on me with her around?”

  No argument there, nor could he win an argument when a Lucklighter made up their stubborn mind. “Okay, but you be careful. Call me if you see anything suspicious.”

  “Yes, Mother.” She rolled her eyes again, fit to give Ty a run for his money.

  When she walked away, he dug into the closet for his Oreo stash. Aha! One unopened pack, one half empty. He left the full package on the kitchen counter as a peace offering, and took the other with him.

  He’d need a junk food binge today.

  Lucky got to work a little early, hoping to avoid any questions, but only managed to get two feet from the elevator before Lisa jumped out from behind the reception desk. “Lucky… I mean… Mr. Harrison. How’s Charlotte? Is she okay? I just heard about what happened. I’d have come over this weekend if I’d known.”

  “She’s a Lucklighter. They’re tougher’n a pine knot.” He tried to step around the petite blonde, but she cut him off.

  “Tell her I’m thinking about her and if there’s anything I can do…”

  He tamped down his irritation. Lisa was good people, and her concern genuine. No fair taking his bad attitude out on her. “I’ll tell her.” Inspiration struck. “She loves the banana pudding you make. You know, like you brought to the last cookout.”

  Lisa’s face lit up. “Then I’ll make one and take it over.” She nearly bounced back behind the desk.

  Bo stepped up behind him. “Funny, I’ve never heard Charlotte mention Lisa’s banana pudding. You, on the other hand…”

  Lucky grabbed Bo’s arm and pulled him down the hallway before he cost Lucky a treat. “Banana pudding makes me happy. Charlotte wants me to be happy, so that means she likes Lisa’s banana pudding.” Besides, Charlotte seemed equal opportunity when it came to sweets these days.

  Bo closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I can’t even begin to understand your logic. You can justify anything, can’t you?”

  Just about. Not that Lucky would say so out loud. “It seems folks here heard about Friday.”

  Bo snapped into professional mode. Speaking of… The man looked good in the navy-blue suit, even if the color matched the official SNB polo shirt. “Yes. Though we’ve managed to keep the media away. We can’t blow an ongoing investigation. But you know how people talk, and they’ve all worried at one time or another about someone coming after their families. Throwing drug dealers in jail tends to make us unpopular. Damn it all to hell!”

  “We were lucky.” Lucky couldn’t trust his family to luck. And he’d overlook their agreement to try to cut back on swearing. Sometimes, “asshole” and “damn it all to hell” were the only right choices to get the message across.

  Bo nodded, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Yeah. I’ll admit, it sure scared the hell out of me. It could have gone so wrong, if those two bastards had been professionals, and if Charlotte hadn’t been capable of taking care of herself.”

  Taking care of herself. Could she? Really?

  The snakes wriggling through Lucky’s guts every time he thought of what could have happened gave a twist. Was it too early to call and check on her?

  “C’mon.” Bo caught Lucky’s arm. “Drop your computer off at your desk. Walter wants to see us.”

  Not comforting words this early in the morning. “Be right there.” He dropped his computer bag on his chair—not enough free space on the desk—and rejoined Bo in the hallway.

  They strolled side by side to Walte
r’s office, Bo in his suit and tie, Lucky in jeans and a t-shirt. Just looking at Bo’s dress shoes hurt Lucky’s feet. Ow. He’d take his worn boots any day.

  Bo knocked and waited for Walter’s, “Enter,” to open the door. Why? Bo shared the office.

  Oh. He had reasons. Jameson O’Donoghue rose from the chair in front of Walter’s desk. As long as the fuckwad stayed on this side of the desk, Lucky would tolerate him. Somewhat. Just the same, his ass better never sit in Walter’s chair again.

  “Jameson,” Bo said in passing.

  Lucky didn’t acknowledge O’Donoghue, and O’Donoghue returned the favor. Lucky stared down at the seat of his chair. How dare the dickhead leave his butt print in Lucky’s chair! He eased down. Ugh. Still warm.

  Walter took a sip of coffee and placed his cup on the desk. “How is Charlotte?”

  Lucky shrugged. “I think she’s shook up, but you’d never know it to look at her.” Yeah, she got the bravado honestly. A true Lucklighter.

  Walter locked eyes with Bo and then Lucky. “Yes, she is a tough, independent woman. Even so, I have an agent watching your house.”

  “Oh, Charlotte’s not going to like that,” Bo said.

  Now might not be the time to mention Cruz’s promise to do the same.

  “From what we’ve pieced together, this case involves a threat to an SNB agent and his family. We protect our own. She’s your sister, Lucky, and by all evidence thus far, we believe her attempted abduction was aimed at you.” Walter’s heavy eyebrows nearly met in the middle of his forehead.

  Sneaky suspicion in five, four, three… “Who’s watching the house?”

  Walter remained quiet. Oh no, he didn’t!

  “Who’s watching the house?” Lucky growled again.

  “Lucky. Be nice!” Bo snapped.

  “James Salters.”

  Did Walter know? “You’re messing with me, right?”

  Walter frowned. “What’s wrong with Agent Salters? He’s completed training and is ready for solo assignments, according to your reports.”

  Lucky released him from training, making him a full agent and not a rookie. Plus, he’d had a few years with the Virginia office before arriving in Atlanta. Lucky opened his mouth.

  Bo cut him off. “I think Salters is the perfect choice.” He glared at Lucky. “Right, Lucky?”

  On the one hand, Salters needed to stay away from Charlotte, on the other, that horse done left the barn. Maybe Salters’ interest would make him watch more carefully—his interest and the threat of Lucky’s boot getting up close and personal with his ass. He also went by the book, kinda like Bo before he’d learned to bend a bit.

  But Salters watching the house gave him several hours of reprieve before Lucky sat him down for a talk. Or rather, Lucky would talk, Salters would listen.

  “Lucky, calm down,” Bo grumbled, giving some hellacious side-eye.

  Oh. Lucky unclenched his jaw—and his fists.

  Walter cleared his throat, drawing attention back to himself. “I’d prefer if you kept a low profile as well, Lucky.”

  What? “Me?”

  “Yes, and Bo too. How’s Moose?” Clever. Changing the subject and fixing Lucky with a challenging glare. Yeah, yeah. No fighting back. Walter pulled rank.

  While Lucky stared down Walter, Bo answered, “He’s better. Charlotte is picking him up at the vet today.”

  Walter’s brows reached for his hairline. “Alone?”

  “Oh no. Loretta took the day off to keep her company.” And act as bodyguard went unsaid.

  Good thing Bo felt like talking. Lucky sure the hell didn’t. Sulking and conversation didn’t work well together. And how had Bo known about Johnson’s plans?

  Rett or Charlotte probably told him. Or working in this office might grant the ability to simply know things, like Walter seemed to.

  “Ah!” Walter’s gloomy expression brightened. “I knew she’d requested a vacation day, but didn’t know why. If Charlotte has to leave the house, she couldn’t be in safer hands.”

  Lucky would still rather she stay home.

  “Oh, and by the way, Lucky.” Walter gave a sinister smile that caused a sudden desire to run. “After reading the reports of the break in and Charlotte’s attempted abduction, three separate agencies have asked for her resume.”

  Over Lucky’s dead body.

  Though Walter did have a point. Charlotte would score higher in marksmanship and intelligence than most of Lucky’s former trainees.

  Still, he’d never get over the need to protect her.

  Lucky cursed the boxwoods the housing developers insisted on planting in the neighborhood. They added too many places to hide. As soon as he got his hands on a chainsaw, he’d reduce the ones around his house to kindling.

  Still, they served a purpose today.

  He parked outside the stubborn-assed community gate and hoofed through the backyard of an unoccupied house, using the boxwoods for cover.

  There the car sat. He’d never driven the blue Ford, but had seen it in the SNB impound lot, seized in a drug deal and waiting to be sold at auction.

  Might make a suitable car for Ty. As long as it didn’t reek of “essence of meth lab.”

  The driver sat in the car, facing straight ahead toward the house. Charlotte’s car and Rett’s Jeep sat in the driveway. Good, they were home.

  He crept up on the Ford, keeping to the driver’s blind spot. Slowly, slowly he approached. He’d half a mind to bring his hand down on the trunk and scare the crap out of the driver.

  In one smooth motion, he opened the passenger door and slid in.

  “Wha…” Salters pulled a gun. Too late.

  “I could’ve shot you ten times by now. Never, ever leave your passenger door unlocked on stakeout.” Hadn’t they covered surveillance safety in one of their earlier lessons? Maybe Lucky had cut the guy loose too quickly.

  Jimmy waved a hand in the direction of the deserted street. “But it’s a quiet neighborhood.”

  “I don’t care if it is a residential area and nothing seems to be happening right now. An attempted kidnapping took place here last Friday. Am I going to have to bust you back to rookie?”

  Salters closed his eyes, shook his head, then reopened them to glower at Lucky. “Look, Harrison, we both know you don’t agree with me dating your sister. Jobwise, it was a stupid move, I know. But I refuse to regret what might be the best thing to ever happen to me.”

  Best thing to ever happen to him? Fuuuuuck. Sure took the wind out of Lucky’s sails. Still, he needed to make his point. Talk came cheap. “Do you know Sonny’s gym?” Bo would be home with Charlotte tonight. Lucky could stay out a couple of hours.

  “Ain’t that a boxing place down the street from work?

  “Yes. Be there at six.” Robinson would take Salter’s place on stakeout at five. Lucky pointed toward home. “And don’t take your eyes off that house.” He got out of the car and strolled off. Hmmm… Should he have checked first to see if Salters could box?

  Didn’t matter in Lucky’s current pissed-off state of mind, and his bad need for stress relief.

  Oh, yeah. Time to vent his frustration on someone in need of a lesson.

  CHAPTER 12

  Jimmy Salters stood beside a ring, geared up and ready to go. So, at least he didn’t try to hide. Point to him.

  The only point he’d score tonight.

  “No mouthguard,” Lucky said. “We’re gonna talk.” Understatement. Lucky planned to do all the talking.

  The red-haired thorn in Lucky’s side removed his mouthpiece. “I already know what you’re gonna say.”

  “Like hell you do. Even if you did, I’m still saying it.” Lucky crawled into the ring. He’d not been here often in the past few years, except to teach Ty how to box. Not as much tension to work off, though he and Rett still sparred on occasion. If he had to lose a sparring match, he’d rather lose to Rett than an SNB rookie.

  Or Salters.

  He bounced in place, waiting for Sa
lters to get into position.

  “You sure you really want to do this?” Salters shuffled, swinging his arms and loosening up. Not his first rodeo then.

  Hell, Lucky owned the rodeo. “Oh, yeah. We are so doing this.”

  “You know if we kill each other your sister will bring us back from the dead so she can kill us herself.” Another point in the guy’s favor for appreciating Charlotte Lucklighter’s ass-kicking abilities.

  “You stubborn-assed, mutherfu …” Yeah, Lucky could hear her now, punctuating each word with a below-the-belt punch or kick. The mere thought made him cringe. Nothing equaled a pissed-off Lucklighter. “Okay, so we stop short of death.” Lucky’s gloves didn’t fit quite the same with his two fingers missing. Wouldn’t slow him down none.

  Lucky’s grinning opponent made a big show of limbering up.

  Posturing. Lucky hated posturing. “Quit stalling. I gotta get home to dinner.” He might have to explain a bruise or black eye, if Salters possessed enough skill.

  Salters rolled his shoulders and swung his arms.

  Lucky glowered. “Are we there yet?”

  “Ready?” Salters pulled his helmet down with gloved hands. A few men gathered outside the ring to watch. Must be a slow night.

  On the one hand, if Lucky kicked ass, Salters might go away and leave Charlotte alone—then Charlotte would kick Lucky’s ass. On the other hand, at least Lucky knew this guy’s past. Oh, right. Knew his past mistakes landed him in the SNB. Sounded familiar. What if they wound up staring at each other over family dinners?

  Brr…

  He hadn’t been happy when Charlotte married a two-bit conman. Then again, he’d never found anyone good enough for his sister. Too much thinking made Lucky’s head hurt. He moved to the center of the ring and jabbed; Salters ducked. Okay, quick reflexes. Might be a worthy opponent.

  Salters danced out of reach. “You said you wanted to talk to me, so talk.” Shuffle, shuffle, jab.

  “I want to know about you and my sister.” Jab, jab, jab. Oh, nice punch there. Too bad Salters moved too slowly to catch Lucky.