“You don’t die for a reputation,” Lijah growled. “You give the bastard what he wants, wait until the fucker isn’t expecting it, and then you strike back.” As he suspected Peter was now doing; God knew how the older man had managed to keep this to himself all these months.
“We aren’t all the impenetrable Lijah Smith!” she came back with some of her earlier fire.
Lijah gave a hard, unapologetic smile as he saw the light of battle returning to Callie’s expressive eyes.
She turned away from that smile. “The man must have realized that he was running out of time because—he ripped open the front of my dress and began to—to touch me.” She clenched her trembling hands together, the knuckles white. “There was a security company keeping watch on the place from outside, as well as the alarm system inside, and I thought it would only be a matter of time before those men outside realized we hadn’t left yet and something must be wrong.”
Lijah stored that piece of information away for further investigation. If he’d been in control of the security at the gallery, he would have ensured there were men inside as well as out. He wondered why this other security company hadn’t. In on the job? Or just fucking incompetent? He would know which by the end of the day.
“Michael had seen enough,” she revealed heavily. “He gave the man the combination to the safe. My head was still covered, I couldn’t see what was happening, but I heard the men leaving the room to go down to the basement to the safe. Michael was—he kept telling me, reassuring me that everything was going to be okay. That the men would take what they wanted and then leave. I heard them come back just minutes later and—and then there was the sound of a gun being fired, and Michael—Michael stopped talking.” Her face had now taken on a gray tinge.
“He recognized and knew the name of the main man,” Lijah bit out harshly. “He’d also seen the faces of the others and could identify them.”
“Yes,” she confirmed softly.
“Michael never called the other man by his name?”
She shook her head. “I think he must have been warned not to before I came back from collecting my jacket.”
Thank God. Lijah had absolutely no doubt that if Callie had known the identity of Michael Hammond’s murderer, then they wouldn’t be having this conversation now. Because she would be dead too.
“There was no mention in any of the newspapers of a woman being present that night…?” Seth prompted slowly.
“Because I was the only witness the police had, and they didn’t want to compromise that advantage by revealing my presence or name to the press. Not that I was of much help anyway,” she added self-disgustedly. “All I could tell them was the man who killed Michael was American.”
“A man who was also a guest at the gala that evening.”
She gave Lijah a humorless smile. “Half the guests there that evening were American. Several well-known actors and actresses. Rich businessmen and their wives. Even a senator who had been over for a meeting with members of the British government. I’m sure the police questioned as many of them as they could, but some of them had already left England by the time they had the guest list and could start their investigation. Others had diplomatic immunity, so they couldn’t prevent them from leaving or force them to answer questions.”
Grayson Security was often called in to enforce that diplomatic immunity. Which meant they also knew how to break it.
Callie sighed. “I told the police what I knew, described all that I could, and once I was well enough to travel, my father took me back to Cornwall with him. I’ve been there ever since.”
“The investigation is still open?”
She nodded. “I believe so, but the police haven’t contacted me or reported anything new for months. The jewelry itself has never reappeared, not as a whole or separately.”
Seth looked at Lijah. “Private collector?”
“Undoubtedly.” The other man nodded.
“What does that mean?” Callie gave them a baffled look.
Seth shrugged. “The collection was stolen to order. Someone, somewhere wanted that collection for their own private pleasure and hired the necessary men to steal it,” he explained as she still frowned.
“How could someone not want to share the beauty of that jewelry?” She gave a puzzled shake of her head. “There were jewels in there that at one time had been owned by all the royal houses in the world. Several necklaces once owned by Elizabeth the First. There were also bracelets and rings owned by several of the Russian tsarinas.”
“The sort of collector we’re talking about doesn’t care about other people seeing and admiring the jewelry. He gets his kick out of just owning them.” Seth shrugged. “They’re probably locked away in a vault in a basement somewhere, and this guy goes in there occasionally just to touch and fondle them and jack— He gets a high out of just owning them,” Seth amended with an uncomfortable grimace.
“We’re getting off the point here.” Lijah began to pace restlessly. “You think your father found out something about the man that attacked you and flew to America last week to follow up on the lead?”
“Originally he said he was going on one last mission, and I wasn’t to worry, that he’d get in touch soon.”
“Except he didn’t.”
“No,” she answered Seth. “When I hadn’t heard from him for several days, I started looking through his study to see if I could find a name or telephone number, someone I might contact to see if he was okay.” She gave a shake of her head. “Instead, I found evidence that he’s been secretly carrying out his own investigation to find the man responsible for killing Michael and attacking me. It’s all in here.” She clutched her shoulder bag to her chest. “I haven’t read it, I—I couldn’t, but I brought it with me for— I wanted Dair Grayson to have it.”
“Why didn’t Peter come to us for help months ago?” Lijah rasped his frustration with the situation. “He must have known we would help him find and deal with this bastard.” Peter would have known exactly how that would have gone down too. With short, sharp justice.
Callie avoided meeting his gaze. “Because I asked him not to tell anyone what had happened.”
“Why the hell would you do that?” Lijah stared at her disbelievingly.
“Because I was scared, okay?” She stood up, eyes blazing but also full of unshed tears. “The man threatened me after…after he shot Michael. He put his hand about my throat, leaned in very close, and said—said he knew who I was, and if I told the police or anyone else anything about him, that he would come back and kill my family and me too!"
Oh fuck…
Chapter 3
The months since the robbery and Michael’s death had been a nightmare for Callie.
The shock and disbelief of how he’d died. Her stay in hospital. The hours of questioning by the police.
She had been only too happy to go back to Cornwall with her father once the police said she could leave London, had felt too beaten up physically and emotionally to do more than just get through each day.
And always, always with that man’s threat to kill her ringing in her ears.
She should have known her father wouldn’t just accept what had been done to her. Should have guessed that all this time he had been carrying out his own investigation, quietly, methodically, as he searched through the guest list that night for the man responsible.
No doubt with the intention of killing him and taking away Callie’s fear once and for all.
She wasn’t stupid. She knew what her father had been and done during his years in the military.
Just as she knew these two men, Lijah Smith and Seth Armstrong, were also trained killers.
“That’s a standard threat,” Seth Armstrong pointed out. “It’s called intimidation of the witness.”
“I know that, I just… It doesn’t make it any less frightening.” Callie had been terrified in those first few days after Michael was killed. Less so as the days, weeks, and then months passed quie
tly in Cornwall with her father.
That fear had now returned with a vengeance.
“Did you believe him when he said he would kill you?” Lijah probed.
“Oh yes.” She gave another shudder.
“You do realize that no one at Grayson Security is going to be intimidated?” he warned. “That everyone who works here will do everything within their power, whatever it takes, to both find Peter and, if necessary, deal with this other man?”
She drew in a deep, controlled breath. “Yes, I understand.”
“Do you?” Lijah studied her intently.
Considering the things Callie had already been through, not least having her boyfriend gunned down in front of her, she was doing remarkably well. But he wasn’t going to lie to her; she was going to need to be even stronger for what was to come.
“Yes,” she confirmed quietly. “I’ll leave all of my father’s papers, his research with you before I go—”
“Go where?” Lijah scowled darkly.
Callie blinked. “I’m going back to Cornwall this afternoon.”
He gave a snort. “I don’t think so.”
“But—I have to go,” she told him desperately. “I can’t—I won’t stay in London.” Coming back here at all had been an ordeal for her, and she wasn’t going to stay any longer than she had to.
“You will,” Lijah told her firmly.
Callie drew in a soft gasp even as she straightened determinedly. “I don’t believe you have the right to tell me what I will or won’t do, Mr. Smith.”
He raised dark brows. “You gave us that right when you walked through the doors of Grayson Security.”
“No—”
“Yes, damn it! This man not only killed your boyfriend, but he fucked up your life and your head as well. Didn’t he?” he demanded harshly.
Callie felt the burn of fresh tears in her eyes.
She had studied art at university, then spent another couple of years learning her craft. Her job as assistant restorer at the Hammond Gallery had been her first, and she had loved it.
Finding herself falling in love with the owner of the gallery had made her world complete.
She’d woken every morning looking forward to going into work, to seeing Michael and being surrounded by what she loved best: the smells, the delicacy of the work involved in helping to restore a painting to its former glory.
After the attack, she hadn’t even been able to step over the threshold of the gallery again, let alone remain in London. She had gladly retreated to her father’s house in Cornwall and stayed there.
Even so, she hadn’t been able to escape the monster who still haunted her dreams at night and caused her to constantly look over her shoulder for shadows following her throughout the day.
Even this morning, on the train journey up to London, she had chosen to sit in the corner of a carriage, watching and assessing everyone who came anywhere near her.
So yes, that bastard had not only killed Michael and their budding love, but he had also completely destroyed her life.
“Are you really going to let him carry on doing this to you?” Lijah looked at her challengingly.
“You don’t understand—”
“Of course I fucking understand!” His hands were clenched at his sides, dark eyes burning like twin coals. “You think Seth and I don’t know what it’s like to be scared shitless? Of course we do. Only a fool never knows fear. But you either let that fear rule you, define you, become you, or you rise up from the ashes, stronger and more determined that no one does this to me.”
Callie had no doubt he spoke from personal experience, and that he had emerged from his “ashes” as a man of tempered steel.
But she wasn’t like these men. Like her father. She had never been into battle as they had, nor looked death in the face and told it to fuck off in the way they had.
But she wanted to!
Oh yes, she dearly wanted to.
She was so tired of being afraid. Of constantly looking over her shoulder. Wondering if the man standing next to her in the supermarket, or in the bookshop, or sitting beside her on the train this morning, was him.
Yes, she was tired of it. So damn tired of being scared all the time.
It wasn’t who she had been. It wasn’t who she was. Or who she wanted to be.
“If we’re going to help Peter, then we need you to stay in London and help us do that,” Seth cajoled.
“If you don’t feel safe going to a hotel, then you can stay with me,” Lijah added impatiently.
He sensed rather than saw Seth slowly turn his head to look at him, and knew the reason for the other man’s surprise. Lijah’s home was his sanctuary. He never took anyone there, friend or foe. Except the look of fear he saw in Callie’s eyes was enough to tell him that if anyone needed sanctuary, somewhere where she felt safe, then it was her.
He didn’t look at the other man, instead gave a hard smile as he saw Callie’s expression of horror at his suggestion she stay with him. “Or you could stay with Seth, if you prefer?”
Both men knew Callie’s fear of staying in London was real. Just as they knew if Peter had followed a lead to America, maybe even found and confronted the man who was responsible for attacking Callie and killing her boyfriend, then he might also have alerted Callie’s attacker to the fact that he was being hunted.
Another reason they couldn’t allow Callie to go back to Cornwall on her own: they had no idea as yet why Peter hadn’t contacted Callie since he’d left home a week ago, but knowing how close father and daughter had always been, Lijah was sure there had to be a damned good reason for it. Such as Peter was no longer alive to be able to contact his daughter. If that was true, then Callie could now be the one who was being hunted.
“You stay with Seth or you stay with me. Those are your only two choices,” Lijah insisted.
She looked slightly bewildered. “I didn’t bring any other clothes with me—”
“Then we’ll get you some,” Seth assured her.
Callie could see by their stubborn expressions that neither man was going to budge on the subject.
Could she force herself to stay in London?
Even overnight?
How could she not stay if it was going to help her father?
She straightened. “Okay, I’ll stay.”
“Good girl.” Lijah’s expression lightened as he nodded his approval. “Now you just have to decide which one of us you’re going to stay with.”
The devil or the devil?
There was no doubt in Callie’s mind she felt more comfortable with Seth than she did Lijah, but she also knew there really wasn’t much difference between the two men. Both of them were hard, ruthless, and would kill without regret if they had to.
Because that’s what your father trained them to do.
Her father…
“You choose. It doesn’t matter to me which.” There was no going back now she had made the decision to stay and help these two men find her father.
“Seth—” Lijah broke off as he was interrupted by the ringing of Seth’s cell phone, his eyes narrowing as the other man looked at the caller ID, his expression grim as he stepped outside into the hallway to take the call.
Leaving Lijah alone with Callie.
She now looked…calm, composed. As if she had pulled a veneer over her in order to shield herself and her emotions.
“Did you have counseling after that night?” The beating was bad enough, but it couldn’t have been easy hearing her boyfriend being shot and killed.
“The—the police arranged for me to talk to someone.” She still didn’t look at him. “It didn’t help.”
No, Lijah wouldn’t imagine that it had. “We’ll get the bastard who did this—”
“I don’t care about him!” She turned on him fiercely. “I just want— I need you to find my father and bring him home.” Her voice broke emotionally.
If it was humanly possible, then Lijah would do that. Any of the men workin
g at Grayson Security would do the same.
“Sorry about that.” Seth was frowning when he came back into the office. “Quinn didn’t know you were back, which is why he called me,” he explained economically. “The situation in Colombia has gone pear-shaped, and Quinn needs help.”
The situation in Colombia was the kidnapping of the wife of one of the British officials working at the consulate in Bogota. Grayson Security had been called in to deal with the delivery of the ransom demanded for her safe return.
Lijah would get a report from Seth later, but he could already guess that the wife probably hadn’t been returned, despite Quinn having delivered the ransom demand. Kidnappers in Colombia weren’t too worried about seeing through their part of an agreement. Which meant that Quinn needed help to go in and extract the wife, if she was still alive.
If.
“Go,” he told Seth briskly. “Take the jet. If you aren’t back in a couple of days, Callie and I will take a commercial flight to the States.”
Callie looked at him in alarm. “I’ve agreed to stay in London but I’m not going to America with you!”
Lijah ignored her protest. “Do you have your passport with you?”
As it happened she did, had pushed it into her bag before leaving the house this morning. Just in case she needed it, she had told herself at the time. But… “I’m not going to America with you,” she repeated stubbornly.
“Go now, Seth,” Lijah instructed.
“I hope you find Peter soon, Callie,” Seth told her before hurrying from the office, his cell phone already back against his ear as he issued a string of instructions into it.
Lijah waited until the other man left before answering Callie’s outburst. “With your father gone, the safest place for you for the foreseeable future is right beside me. And I have a feeling I’m going to America,” he added challengingly.
He was right. What was more, Callie knew he was right. It was just that for the past week, she had put off thinking too deeply about anything except finding her father.
The father who had sacrificed his career for her and put his own life on hold to help her recover from her ordeal, and who may now have put his own life on the line for her. She owed it to him to put her trust in the men he had trained.
Renegade Alpha (ALPHA 5) Page 3
