Just as he was gearing up to grab the man’s wrist, something small flew over his shoulder. It hit the intruder’s nose. He yelled in pain. Mark used the opening to grab the man’s wrist and bend it backward. The knife once again dropped to the ground. Mark didn’t waste time in retrieving it.
“Don’t move,” Mark ground out, knife in hand. The man’s eyes—dark, Mark couldn’t tell what color—darted from the weapon to a space over Mark’s shoulder. Without another comment, he turned and ran back into the office. Mark tried to catch him but the man was fast.
He jumped through the window he’d broken and disappeared into the stormy night.
Mark wanted to follow him—to catch him—but a sound behind him drew his attention away.
Kelli stood in the living room doorway, eyes wide.
“I found the clip,” she said, voice a few octaves too high. Mark didn’t understand until he followed her gaze to the floor near the couch. Despite the situation, he let out a loud laugh.
“That’s what hit him,” he realized. “You threw the clip at him.”
Kelli shrugged.
“I panicked,” she admitted. “I thought he was going to stab you. I can’t believe it actually hit him. I can barely see.”
“We’re quite the couple, then.” Mark walked over to the discarded gun, partially under the couch thanks to the scuffle, and retrieved its clip. Working at Orion had trained him to shy away from using guns—there were other ways to disable an attacker—but he wasn’t about to just leave it on the floor, either. He put the safety on and secured the gun in the back of his pants. “I threw the gun at him when I realized he wasn’t going to give up.”
Kelli let out her own little laugh, but it didn’t last long.
Mark sobered. “The cops are on their way?”
“Yeah, the dispatcher said it might take a little bit because of the storm.” Kelli took a few steps forward and extended her hand to him. Unsure of what to do, he took it. The light from the flashlight made shadows dance across her concerned face. The nerves boiling beneath his skin began to die down.
They were safe.
Kelli was safe.
“Are you okay?” she asked, not fazed by their contact. Mark wondered how well she could read him. Surprise at her thoughtfulness toward him was all he could feel for a moment. His slow response time only seemed to heighten that concern. “Did he cut you?”
“No, I’m fine. All he got in were a few punches.” Pain in his head started to rise in his awareness. He glanced over to the coffee table. “But I think I might have cracked your coffee table.”
Kelli didn’t even turn to look. She squeezed his hand. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He squeezed back. “Thank you. I have no doubt that he would have used this.” Mark dropped her hand and held the knife up.
“Do you think his fingerprints are still on it?”
Mark shook his head, recalling the gloves the intruder had worn. “He came prepared.”
Kelli grabbed the flashlight and pointed it to the office. Mark watched as she moved the beam across the now-open boxes from a safe distance.
“That’s my laptop,” she said, pausing in her movement. “I almost never use it. It’s basically brand-new.” She moved the light back into the living room to the open box that obviously held the stereo. “It’s not a brand-new model, but it’s worth money.” The light moved again until it rested between them, showing him the clear expression of someone who has just discovered something they wish they hadn’t. “Mark, I don’t know why, but I think he was looking for Victor’s journal.”
Mark thought back to the purse snatching. The mugger had left the purse...and nothing had been taken. Now, in the dead of night, in the middle of a storm, a man decked out in black had broken in. What’s more, he’d admitted he was no thief but was after something.
That was too many coincidences.
Sirens sounded in the distance. Mark met Kelli’s gaze with certainty.
“I think I’m officially on the paranoid train.”
* * *
THE POLICE BROUGHT in rain and mud and a lot of questions. Kelli, ready to deal with all three, was immensely thankful that Mark was more than willing to walk the cops through everything that had happened. Not leaving any details out. So when he got to the part about her throwing the clip at the intruder’s head—an act of sheer panic on her part—the two men paused and looked her way.
Grace, now fully awake on Kelli’s hip, waved at them. Mark was the only one who did a little wave back before taking the officers through the rest of the story. He stepped with them over to the broken office window, and together all three stood with heads tilted.
“This sleepover was almost as bad as Marcie Diggle’s fifteenth birthday party,” Lynn said from the dining table’s chair behind her.
“Just because you found out Marcie kissed Tim Duncan,” she replied.
Lynn snapped her fingers.
“Yeah, a week after he kissed me.” She crossed her arms over her chest. The pajama set she’d borrowed had already been switched back to her earlier clothes. Kelli knew the way old friends do that Lynn was using humor to stay calm. She turned away from the men and patted Lynn’s shoulder.
“You did good, Lynn,” she said, tone void of any playful tease. “We’re lucky to have you in our lives.”
The dark-haired woman’s expression softened. A small smile brought up the corners of her lips. She touched Kelli’s hand.
“We’re also lucky the storm kept Mark here.” She glanced over to the ex-bodyguard. “He kept calm, really calm.”
Kelli nodded at that. “It used to be his job.”
“I guess it was good timing you invited him for dinner. Though maybe next time you invite him somewhere, you should go ahead and invite the cops, too.”
Kelli wanted to tell Lynn right then that she believed the mugging and the break-in were a result of Victor’s work, but at the same time she knew she wouldn’t tell her. Lynn had been her confidant since before puberty. Apart from Grace, there was no one she loved more in the world. Telling Lynn that she might have stumbled across a conspiracy that had gotten her husband killed was getting the woman too close to danger. Lynn hurt—or worse—was an unimaginable danger she wanted to avoid at all costs.
Right then and there, Kelli made up her mind to keep Lynn in the dark.
“Kelli?” Mark called after the officers went back to their car to retrieve their camera. The ex-bodyguard, still shoeless and in his undershirt, met her in the middle of the living room with a face filled with concentration. Grace put her cheek back on her mother’s shoulder but turned her head to watch the man speak. She was always curious. “They said they’re going to take some pictures for evidence and finish taking both of our statements. They put out an APB for the man and have a patrol car looking, but if that guy is half as smart as I think he is, he’ll have used the weather to hide.” Mark paused, giving a quick smile to the little girl before sobering again. “That being said, I think it might be best if you don’t stay here tonight.”
“Oh, don’t worry, we won’t,” she agreed. “Lynn already offered us her guest bedroom. Though...” Kelli placed her hand on Grace’s back and began to rub it, the motion soothing her probably more than the girl. “I wasn’t at home last night when I was mugged, Mark. What if we’re right and someone is after the journal? What if they keep coming after me—after us—until they find it? Being across the city won’t make a difference. We’ll still be in danger.”
It was a dark thought but also a real possibility. Keeping her family safe was all that mattered, and now she wasn’t sure how to keep doing it.
Mark didn’t immediately respond. His dark eyes were trying to have a conversation with her that she couldn’t exactly understand. One that drew his brow together and thinned his lips be
fore he finally spoke.
“Then we’ll have to figure out who is after it and why,” he decided. The decisive we he inserted filled her with an odd excitement. As well as relief. Sharing the burden of fear—no matter the degree of selfishness—made the situation less terrifying.
“But what about until we do?” She paused her rubbing motion on Grace’s back. “How do we stay safe?”
“I know someone who might help with that.”
* * *
MARK MOVED THIS way and that—trying to get comfortable. The front seat didn’t give. He let out a long exhalation. Instead of trying a new position, he let his body become still again. The street outside Lynn’s town house was quiet after the storm. He sat in Kelli’s car. Lynn’s neighbors paid Mark no mind if they saw him, which he doubted.
He’d been sitting there since he’d driven the tired women over. After the police had left and they’d put up a makeshift tarp over Kelli’s broken window, Kelli had pulled him aside to let him know just how much she didn’t want to involve Lynn. Not until they had concrete proof.
“I want to keep her safe, and isn’t ignorance bliss?” she had said with fake humor. It had disappeared quickly. “Plus, she’s taken on a lot with Grace and me since Victor’s death. I—I have to be certain before I drag her in.”
Mark saw the reason in her desire to keep her best friend in the dark. If he could, he’d keep Kelli out of the loop, too. But whoever was after the journal certainly hadn’t thought twice about making contact with her. The fact that the man had known the house was filled with the young family and Lynn, and had come in armed anyway was something that made his blood boil.
The Cranes had already been through enough.
Mark rolled his shoulders back and stifled a yawn. His eyes fell to the journal on his lap. Kelli had offered the evidence to him so she wouldn’t be alone in knowing what Victor had once known, too. It was strange to read the man’s notes in a way. Seeing the words he had written and knowing that the journalist knew nothing of his tragic fate made the guilt in Mark rise to the surface. If only he could have stopped the man in black...
Just as another yawn was making its way through Mark, the front door of Lynn’s town house opened. Kelli, dressed in a blue T-shirt from the Dallas Zoo and jeans, walked out with two cups in her hands. Her short hair hung darker, wet from an apparent shower, but she clearly had makeup on. A messenger bag was slung across her chest. The closer she came, the more he realized he was drinking in all of her details. Shifting in his seat, as if that could ease the sudden guilt, he unlocked the passenger door and pasted on a smile.
“I’m going to assume you’re tired,” Kelli greeted him, not pausing as she got in the car. “I’m also going to assume you’re a fan of coffee with a lot of sugar.” She handed the cup over, and he laughed.
“I’m not one to turn down free sugary coffee.”
Kelli smiled, pleased.
“Nothing out of the ordinary here?” she swiveled her head around to see both directions of the street. He already knew what it looked like. The scenery would change when people began to leave for work.
“Thankfully it’s been pretty quiet.”
“How do you not lose your mind sitting here for hours with nothing happening? Let alone stay awake?” Kelli’s eyebrows pinched in question. It was something he’d been asked countless times while on the job with Orion.
“Years of experience, I guess.” He held up the journal as an example of some of what he’d done and passed it to her. She silently placed it in her purse, but Mark could see she wanted more, so he brought up another man from his past. “A friend I worked with at Orion, Oliver, used to tell me the key to keeping focused and sharp—no matter where or what case you were working—was to keep rescanning your environment over and over again as if it was the first time you’d seen it. Because, and I quote, ‘It’s the little things that change and bite you in the ass.’” He smiled. “Pardon my French, but that’s pretty much how I’ve worked for years. Making sure none of the details go unnoticed can keep a person busy, even if nothing changes.” Mark couldn’t help but think about the night at the cabin. He’d done the same thing both inside and outside the cabin, and yet...
“Details. I’m not so good at those,” Kelli said, taking a big sip of coffee. “I think having a toddler has fried my brain.”
“She’s pretty cool. Grace, that is.” Mark motioned to the house. “She seems like a sharp kid for her age.”
“Thanks. I think so, too.”
A different kind of smile wound up the corners of the woman’s lips. Pride mixed with unmistakable love. Guilt for not being able to protect the father of the family was replaced by an ache of loneliness within him. It caught him off guard. He didn’t like it.
“So, what’s on the docket for the day?” Mark changed the subject but was annoyed that the feeling stayed.
“Lynn is watching Grace—because she’s a wonderful person—while I go to talk to Dennis Crawford. I told her we were tying up some break-in loose ends.”
Mark’s eyebrow rose. “That name sounds familiar,” he said.
Kelli’s expression hardened behind her coffee cup.
“He was Victor’s editor for the Bowman Foundation spotlight,” she explained. “He’s also the only person other than you whom I’ve brought up my concerns to. And since I’m pretty certain you weren’t the person who mugged me and then broke into my house...”
“You think he knows something,” Mark finished.
“Or is our culprit.”
“So you’re going to go and—what—confront the man you think is behind it all?” Even as he asked, he realized that was exactly what Kelli intended to do. “Kelli, if this guy is behind this whole thing, then going to see him is dangerous.”
Kelli fixed him with a pointed stare. “Good thing I have a bodyguard, then.”
Her comment was playful, but it created a storm of emotions inside him. As with his comment about her daughter being smart, he felt an ounce of pride, a measure of pleasure and the ever-present blanket of guilt beneath both. Without knowing what he was about to say, he was glad he didn’t have to respond right away. A car pulled up in front of them. It drew Kelli’s attention away from him.
“Speaking of bodyguards.”
Chapter Nine
Jonathan Carmichael didn’t look like a bodyguard at first glance. Although he was muscled and had an unmistakable set to his jaw that spoke of discipline and determination, he was leaner and taller than his original teammates, Mark and Oliver. From personal experience, Mark knew that even though the black-haired man looked slight next to him, his physical appearance didn’t diminish the man’s abilities. He was the rock of their once-close group. Always sensible, always strong.
Jonathan Carmichael was the guy who surprised everyone.
Seeing him cut his engine and get out of the car, waiting for Mark to make his way over, was definitely something Mark hadn’t realized he missed. In a way it felt as though they were getting ready for a job—though he supposed that was kind of what they were doing.
“Long time, no see,” Jonathan greeted him. He extended his hand and they shook. “I see your scruff has gotten better.” He motioned to Mark’s chin and his five-o’clock shadow. It made Mark laugh.
“I actually shaved yesterday. I was trying to do you proud,” he joked back. Mark had wondered what their first meeting since the last time he’d seen him—at least six months ago—would be like. He was glad Jonathan seemed to be there with humor rather than anger. The past was more than creeping up on Mark. He couldn’t take another problem to think about. “Thanks for coming on such short notice and with little to no explanation.”
Jonathan shrugged, glancing at Kelli, who was still sitting in the car.
“We may not be hanging out like we used to, but I can still tel
l when you’re spooked.”
“I can’t deny that this whole thing is...unsettling.” It was his turn to look back at Kelli. “And that one is a firecracker. She won’t back down, and I—well, I need to keep her and her family safe, and I can’t do that by myself right now.”
Jonathan, the middle ground between Oliver’s compassion and Mark’s normally stoic reasoning, nodded, while a twitch of his lips pulled up at the corner, moving his impeccable goatee.
“Well, I’m happy to help. But—” Jonathan lowered his voice, not to show he was trying to be secretive but instead to convey seriousness “—I’m able to be here because Nikki moved a contract around. She didn’t question me getting out of work, but she expects an answer why. And we both know she deserves one.”
Mark knew as soon as he’d called Jonathan the night before that eventually he’d have to talk with Nikki again. Still he sighed.
“I know,” he admitted.
“Good. Now, tell me what’s going on.”
* * *
KELLI WAS TRYING not to pout. She was almost thirty, for goodness’ sake, yet there she was, riding shotgun to the Orion Security Group, trying her best not to show she was ribbed about not getting to go confront the potential culprit. Mark was quiet—ignoring the fact that she was upset she hadn’t gotten her way.
“I remember him—Jonathan—from when I first came into Orion,” she said when she could no longer stand the quiet. “His résumé was impressive, and if I remember correctly, he was one of the original Orion agents? Like you?”
Mark gave a half smile. There was no doubt in Kelli’s mind that he’d been hiding his emotions since they’d reconnected—maybe a trade secret of the security business—but she could see his feelings for his friend were genuine.
“Yes, Jonathan and I were a part of the first team at Orion. Along with Oliver Quinn.”
“The man who helped the private investigator catch a killer in Maine,” she supplied. “That’s how we heard of Orion in the first place. It was all over the news.”
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