by Vella Day
She’d just have to show them that she could get the job done as well as they could—if not better.
Once the men went off to “work,” she moved on to man number two—Roger Medlock. During their one and only sharing time, Brandon had told her about the man’s high-living lifestyle. If he’d made millions with his online game, it made sense he might not think anything of buying a beautiful woman. Fucker.
Mac made sure to replace the tracking device under the porch chair before heading out. Medlock, like Carl Hampton, lived northwest of town. When she arrived, she was pleasantly surprised to find the man’s estate wasn’t gated. Perhaps he was arrogant enough to believe his security system was infallible. It wouldn’t surprise her if he had a few werewolf bodyguards instead of using an electronic service. She preferred the latter. She could get around wires a lot better than wolves.
The one-story brick façade looked very much like a medieval castle, complete with two armored guard statues holding spears standing by the front door. All that was missing was the moat. Given his video games were about knights, the home fit him. In front of the house, at the end of a circular drive, sat a large fountain. She’d really have to give some thought as to how to get close without being seen. He didn’t seem to be a big fan of trees, and there wasn’t much to shield her from view.
Not wanting to look obvious, Mac drove down the block and spotted a more modest home that was for sale. An idea sprung up. She parked, called the name on the sign, and waited for the real estate agent to answer. As soon as Mac explained she was interested in purchasing the exclusive home, the agent said she could meet up with Mac within the hour. That worked for her.
In the meantime, Mac slung her camera over her neck, and began canvasing the neighborhood, taking tons of shots. If anyone asked what she was doing, she’d tell him the truth—she was waiting for the realtor.
Less than thirty minutes later, a woman in her fifties pulled into the drive. Mac strode toward her as the realtor eased out of her BMW with a clipboard in hand.
“Ms. Atkins?” the realtor asked, extending her hand.
“Yes.” Mrs. Atkins was Mac’s eighth grade English teacher. It was the first name that popped into her head. It wouldn’t do to use her real name. She could only imagine what Sam and Brandon would say if they found out she’d gone there.
“I’m Mary Walters. Tell me what you’re looking for in a house.”
If Roger Medlock had a lot of parties, Mac bet there’d be noise in the neighborhood. That was the angle she wanted to leverage. “I’m actually looking at the home for my parents. They live up north, so they asked me to take a look at the place.”
“Perfect.” The woman led her up the stairs to the front door.
Mac’s dad wouldn’t have been caught dead living in a place so opulent. He’d been a frugal man who believed in saving resources. “While I was waiting for you, I ran into a woman who told me that one of the neighbors often had parties that were quite loud. Have you heard anything about that?” Mac was pleased with the lie. It had rolled off her tongue.
“You mean Mr. Medlock in the castle house?”
Excitement sliced through her. “Yes. What can you tell me about him? Is he nice? My folks are very picky about their neighbors, if you know what I mean.” Mac didn’t even know what she meant, but it sounded good.
“He’s an upstanding citizen. In fact, he’s planning to run for the State senate. Can’t get better than that!”
Mac wasn’t sure what to make of that turn of events. If Medlock was indeed a werewolf, and his constituency ever found out, the entire nation would be shocked. Given he was evil, she feared for the good folks of Florida. No telling what legislation he’d try to get passed.
For the next twenty minutes, Mac followed the realtor from room to room. There was nothing about the house that appealed to her, but she kept smiling and taking photos. “I’m sure my folks will love it.”
Once back outside, they shook hands. Mac told her she wanted to walk about the neighborhood, but that she’d be in touch. Lying went against her grain, but it was for a good cause. She just hoped the ends justified the means.
Just as Mac was ready to pack it up and call it a day, a woman who lived across the street from Roger Medlock came out from her home with a small mutt by her side. She looked to be in her twenties, slim, and coifed to the hilt—the typical trophy wife.
Mac headed back to the house for sale, taking pictures along the way in the hopes Mrs. Trophy Wife would walk on by. Sure enough, she trotted across the street, the little dog panting to keep up.
“You interested in the Carlyle place?” the neighbor asked.
Mac stepped over to the woman with the cute-as-sin dog. “Possibly. I’m looking for my parents, but from what I’ve heard, Mr. Medlock, in the castle house, has some really loud parties. What’s your opinion of the guy?”
The woman rolled her eyes. “Loud is an understatement. Valet parks the guest cars everywhere. Pisses off everyone. It would be a lot more tolerable if Medlock invited the neighbors.”
That didn’t answer her question directly, but it gave Mac a nice segue. She drew her brows together to show her support. “I’m surprised he’d want to upset anyone. I heard he’s running for State senate.”
“Pu-lease. He wishes. He ran for mayor a few years back and got, like, five percent of the votes. He spends too much money. He’d be a disaster in the government—or perfect for it.” She laughed.
Mac liked that the woman seemed to love gossip. “Have you ever been inside? I wonder if the interior walls are all stone, like a real castle.”
“I haven’t, but my girlfriend has.”
Mac’s pulse raced. “So she’s met the potential politician?”
The dog lifted his leg and peed on the grass before sprawling out next to his owner, seemingly content. Mac loved dogs, especially cute little puppies. It was her one weakness. She squatted next to the fluffy fur ball and petted him.
“That’s Pepi. Oh, and I’m Darla, by the way.” Mac stood, loving all the news she was getting—legally.
They shook hands. “Hannah.” Mac hoped her aunt wouldn’t mind if she stole her name.
“To answer your question, Marina has met the future senator.” She waved a hand. “I do love Marina, but she’s a gold digger. I told her Roger wasn’t worth her time, but did she listen? No.”
“What happened?”
“Hold on.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and swiped her finger across the screen. “You’ve got to see what Marina looks like in order to appreciate this.” Darla held up a picture of the two of them. While she was attractive, Marina could be a movie star—very tall with long, blonde hair, huge wide-set eyes, and lips that looked like they’d been injected with Botox.
“She’s gorgeous.”
“She is. She’s also smart—a lawyer, no less. But after one month of dating, including numerous evening cruises on Medlock’s yacht, they hadn’t done the deed.”
Mac wanted to be sure she understood. “Because she didn’t like him?” If that were the case, why date the man?
“Oh, it wasn’t from lack of trying on her part. Trust me. Marina told me she stripped for him, teased him mercilessly, and everything you could imagine. Roger said he wanted to wait until marriage.” Darla rolled her eyes. “That’s bullshit if you ask me.”
A bit of disappointment at the dead end rushed through her. “Do you think he’s interested in men?”
Darla shrugged. “Beats me. But after Marina dumped him, she told me Roger went through two more women. From what Marina said, he gets all hot and bothered, and loves kissing, but that’s it.”
“You said Marina is a lawyer. What kind? Maybe he was put off by her intelligence.”
“She deals in adoptions. Is a partner in a firm, too. But Medlock’s quite the genius boy from what I’ve heard.”
Mac believed she’d found out everything she could from this woman. “I can’t thank you enough. I’ll be sure to give the
gossip to my folks.”
Mac had an idea what might be going on and couldn’t wait to investigate.
* * *
It was getting close to dinner and Brandon couldn’t wait to get home to Mackenzie. All day, he’d missed her. As he was heading there, Sam called and said their presence was requested back at headquarters to meet Trax and Dante ASAP. Apparently, they had a copy of the security system for Roger Medlock’s house, something he and Sam would need.
Brandon hooked a U-turn and headed to town. At their last meeting, the General made it very clear that each team needed to make sure one of the purchased women was at the house before storming it. Having the blueprints would help to get into and out of the house without Medlock’s knowledge.
When Brandon arrived at headquarters, Sam was already with the Field brothers. Brandon went to the conference room and pulled up a chair. “Hey.”
Trax unfolded a paper copy of the alarm system. “This is the most secure system we’ve ever installed. Not only are the doors alarmed with a silent alarm, the windows are, too. Even if someone knocks on the window, a signal is sent to the security house in back. From what Medlock told us, he planned on stocking it with three shifters, each of whom would have an attack dog.”
“Fuck me,” Sam said. “What’s at his house? Fort Knox?”
Trax shrugged. “Apparently, something important. Maybe it’s his computer game system. Who knows?” He tapped one section of the design. “This is what you both need to understand. If you do manage to get in, you can’t get out without the code. And we don’t have that. Medlock types in a new one whenever he sees fit. The doors automatically lock from the outside.”
“Shit. There’s got to be some weakness we can exploit,” Sam said.
“There is. It’s the locks themselves. We don’t make those. You might be able to pick the lock from the outside, but once inside, a deadbolt slides shut, making getting out impossible.”
Dante nodded. “I’m guessing he’s intent on catching the intruders?”
“Rather diabolical, don’t you think?” Brandon said.
“Quite.”
Roger Medlock was an interesting man. “Has he had any break-ins?”
Dante shook his head. “Not that we know of, so he’s had no reason to contact us. If someone did try to break in, all Medlock needs to do, is reset the alarm. We should never be needed unless the system fails—which it won’t.”
Brandon shifted his gaze between Trax and Dante. “Did either of you personally install the system?”
“I did,” Trax said. “I’ve met the guy—a very rich one at that—given the amount of money he paid. That was why I wanted to do the install myself.”
“What was the inside like? A lot of valuable art, or what?”
“Just a lot of computer equipment.”
“It doesn’t add up,” Sam said. “The man’s single and a party animal. He must have a shitload of guests through his house all the time. Does he have cameras in every corner and a monitoring room?”
Trax held up his hands. “Not that I installed, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t employ two different security companies, in case one system failed.” He tapped the paper. “This is a copy of the house layout. If you ever need to get in, I figured you could use this.”
“We might. Thanks.” Sam rolled up the specs.
Brandon intended to scan and then upload it to his tablet to use if and when they needed it. Every time something like this occurred, he appreciated how much each Pack member had to offer. “Thanks for showing this to us.”
Time to go home and enjoy their woman. Brandon didn’t want Mackenzie to think that when they’d asked her to move in, they expected her to cook and clean for them. “How about we stop at Carvello’s Italian restaurant and pick up some food?”
“I like it. After being cooped up in the house all day, she deserves a rest. I imagine she’ll be up for a little entertainment,” Sam said with a smile on his face.
Brandon couldn’t believe the change in his cousin since Mackenzie had walked into their lives. He was much more relaxed, except when they talked about the case. Then he went into protective mode. It was as if he feared Mackenzie would run off like his little brother had, and the Colters would get her.
“How about you pick up something,” Brandon said, “and I’ll head on home and let Mackenzie know she doesn’t have to worry about fixing anything?”
Sam shook his head. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Call her and let her know we’re bringing dinner. Ask her what she wants. We’ll both drive to the restaurant.”
He saw through Sam’s request. “You just don’t want me to start without you.”
“Fucking A.”
Brandon called, and just hearing her voice hardened his cock. She actually sounded excited as if she’d had a good day of research. He couldn’t wait to see her.
Chapter Seventeen
After returning home from seeing how the other half lived, Mac went to work researching this lawyer who’d cozied up to Roger Medlock. It wasn’t hard to find Marina’s last name. It was Lavelle—as in Lavelle, Comstock, and Richards. Just as Mac was about to call and chat with the woman, her cell rang. It was Brandon.
She smiled and leaned back in her seat. “Hey, there. Am I going to see you guys tonight?” It was close to six, and she was beginning to worry something had cropped up at work.
“We’re stopping at an Italian restaurant to pick up dinner so you don’t have to fix anything.”
“That’s so sweet.” They were such considerate men.
“What would you like?” Brandon asked.
Anything worked for her. “How about lasagna?” If she couldn’t finish her meal, she’d eat it for lunch tomorrow.
“You got it. We’ll be home shortly.”
She disconnected the call and rushed into the bathroom to freshen up. Being away from them all day had heightened her desires. She wanted tonight to be special.
Mac was still primping when the back door opened.
“Mackenzie?” Brandon called.
As soon as she made certain her hair wasn’t tangled, she headed out. “Hey. Have a good day?” The scent of basil and other Italian spices made her stomach grumble.
Sam kissed her before heading into the kitchen. “Red or white?”
“Red, please.” She could get used to this domestic bliss.
Brandon placed the large box on the table. “I’ll get some plates. Have a seat.”
Mac couldn’t remember the last time she’d been served dinner. After Sam poured the wine and Brandon served up their meal, they tapped their glasses.
“What wonderful clues did you unearth today?” Sam asked.
Her foray to Medlock’s home wasn’t something she wanted to divulge. “I found out that Carl Hampton has a sealed juvie record.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “What for?”
She told them about the rape charge. “I couldn’t find the verdict, but I figure it doesn’t matter. The guy is no good.”
Brandon rubbed her arm. “That’s great. Anything else?”
She saved the best for last, though if their fellow Pack members were working on finding the women, they might already know what she’d discovered. “I learned that Roger Medlock is running for the Florida Senate. Apparently, he ran for mayor of Gulfside a few years ago, but he didn’t get many votes.”
The men glanced at each other. “That’s very helpful,” Sam said.
If Medlock’s political ambition helped point the way to finding Cheryl, Mac didn’t see how. “Why is that important? I just told you that to give you a better feel for the man.”
“Medlock isn’t married,” Sam said.
She still didn’t get it. “So?”
“He’ll need a woman by his side; a wife perhaps. Politicians need to appeal to the masses. No President of the United States has been single, right?”
“True.” She set down her wine. “Are you thinking he thought he could convince Cheryl, or whoever he bou
ght, to pose as his wife? Why would anyone do that?”
Sam shrugged. “I have no idea. It was just a thought.” He nodded to her nearly empty plate—a plate she hadn’t remembered cleaning. “How about we table all business until later. I have a better idea about how to spend the evening.” He wiggled his brows and she laughed.
“What’s that?”
He smiled. “I bought something for you.”
“I like presents.” Especially if Sam and Brandon had purchased them.
They didn’t seem the type who needed to shower a woman with gifts, which would make it all the more special. She bet they’d each had a lot of women who tried to snag them, so there was no need for them to try to win a woman’s affections. Hell, if they hadn’t been werewolf mates, she probably wouldn’t have attracted them.
Brandon grabbed the dirty plates and carried them into the kitchen.
Sam pushed back his chair. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
She hadn’t seen him bring anything in, so when had be bought this present? Or was this a ruse to get her into the bedroom? She didn’t care. It was where she wanted to go. Plates clanked in the sink. “Is Brandon coming?”
“You bet.” Sam grinned.
Something was up. Sam normally wasn’t this happy. At least neither of the men suspected she hadn’t been home most of the day, so that was good. Mac followed him into his bedroom. Instead of kissing her and stripping her, he stepped over to the dresser and pulled out a dildo.
Was he kidding? “For real? Why would I want something plastic when I can have the real thing? That dildo doesn’t compare to you two.” She stepped over to Sam and grabbed his crotch.
He laughed. “Baby, this isn’t for your pussy.”
The moment the ramification sunk in, her grip loosened. “You want to put that in my ass?” She held up her hands in surrender. “Why?”
