by Tena Stetler
Tristian scrubbed his hand over his face. “Could I have a few minutes?” He drew in a breath, and it hissed out between his teeth. “Am I able to…”
The office door flew open. Birch marched in and stood beside Tristian. “I figured you’d be resistant.” He nodded in Bruce’s direction. “Excuse us for a few minutes—please.”
“A few minutes. If the young man leaves this building, you know he is dead,” Bruce said over his shoulder as he and Paul stepped outside the room.
Birch glanced warily at the closed door. “Since I am sure everyone in this building is under surveillance, I’ll keep it quick. There is a price on your head.” He nodded in the direction of the men outside the door. “And they know it. You don’t want to endanger anyone in Misty Harbor.” He raised an eyebrow and gave Tristian a knowing look.
“What about An—”
Birch shook his head vehemently. “I will take care of the house and its contents. Everything will be waiting for your return.”
Tristian nodded in understanding. Bruce didn’t know about Angie. The Coppervales will take care of her until I can return and do it myself. Don’t want anything to happen to her. He blinked back the tears burning behind his eyelids. He’d wanted to know what his dad did, well, he’d find out first hand.
“For the time being, let Bruce protect you until the culprits are found, which according to my intel, won’t be long. Then we’ll discuss settling the estate and all belongings, which will be returned to your care. Understand?” Birch locked gazes with Tristian.
“I do. You knew, didn’t you?”
“Yes. We’d had long talks with your dad and mom. But after so many trouble-free years, we figured your dad had a foolproof system.” He put his arm around Tristian. “Know we are keeping tabs on everything, though you don’t see or hear from us.”
Chapter Two
Time to Rearrange the PlayBook
Present Day
Recent years with Angie had been difficult to say the least. She declared her independence by quitting the career path Tristian arranged for her and fleeing the family home while he was on assignment. When he returned, his sources located her. He pulled in favors for her protection until he could cast the spells himself.
In damage control mode, rather than confront her, he’d waited for an invitation that never came. Finally, he made an unannounced visit to her shop, only to discover she was out of town with friends. What a goddamn mess.
He’d sucked it up and waited for her return. Willow seemed accommodating but mum on where Angie had gone. Eventually, Angie returned and consented to dinner with him. However, she insisted on extremely tough ground rules for future visits. He agreed to her terms, and their parting was more amicable than he’d hoped.
Tristian slid into the seat of his sleek, powerful, sports car, started the engine, and flipped on the windshield wipers, glad this frigging day was nearly over. When he glanced in the rear-view mirror, tired gray/blue eyes stared back at him before he slid designer sunglasses on. The sun was peeking through the cloud cover. It appeared the rain wouldn’t last much longer. He left the airport terminal parking lot and turned toward the highway that would take him to Misty Harbor, where the family home, his home was located. A weight lifted from his shoulders having made amends with Angie. But she’d made it abundantly clear, she’d made a life for herself in D.C.
All the way home, he tried to come to terms with her decision. She wasn’t coming back, and he didn’t want to return to an empty house—not right now. Tires squealed as he jerked the steering wheel. The car skidded sideways into the parking lot of the little diner where he occasionally got a bite to eat. He straightened the car out, coasted into a space, and turned the engine off.
Sitting behind the wheel, he combed fingers through his damp, dark-blond hair in an attempt to look presentable. Aww to hell with it. He shoved the car door open, unfolded his six-foot-four inch frame from the vehicle, slammed the door, and set the alarm.
Cheerful red checkered curtains hung in the windows, funny he’d never noticed that before. Probably because it was usually in the dead of night when he stopped to grab a bite. The late afternoon sunlight bounced off the glass door to the diner as he yanked it open. The aroma of fresh French fries, hamburgers, and homemade cherry pie wafted out into the cool spring air. He strode through the diner, slipped into a red vinyl booth in the far corner, and stared out the window for several minutes. The sounds of food being prepared, dishes clinking together, and the ding of a bell when the cook called “order up” somehow took the edge off.
The door opened again, and a woman stomped inside. She had shoulder-length wavy, red hair, a sprinkling of freckles over her nose, and the brightest blue eyes he’d ever seen. She was curvy in the right places, not like the skin and bones women prevalent these days. He shook his head. How did men find those types attractive?
The wooden chair scraped across the tile floor as the woman jerked it out from under a table not far from Tristian’s booth. She plopped down on the red padded vinyl seat and shoved her wet hair out of her eyes, blew out a breath, and leaned back in the chair. The woman stared into space for a beat, then closed her eyes, shook her head slightly.
A waitress with a nametag that said Nan stopped by his table. “What’ll you have?”
“A cup of coffee.”
“Got fresh baked cherry pie that goes really good with a scoop of ice cream.” She tapped a pencil on the order pad she held in her hand.
“A cup of coffee.”
“Okaaay, but you don’t know what you’re missing.” She turned and flounced over to the table a red-haired woman occupied and laid her hand on the woman’s arm. “Didn’t go as well as you’d hoped?”
“You could say that. The big announcement was that the company is relocating to be part of a National Cyber Intelligence Center being established in Colorado Springs. Shadow Hawk Cyber was one of the first companies tapped to be a part of it.” She slapped the menu down on the table.
Nan tilted her head slightly and peered at the woman questioningly. “You don’t want to move? I’ve heard Colorado is beautiful. Great skiing, hiking, biking, you name it; Colorado’s got it.” She paused for a couple beats, tapping her pencil to her lips. “Except the ocean. It’s land locked. Suppose it has mountain lakes.”
The red-headed woman huffed out a breath. “Relocation isn’t the problem. I’m an Irish citizen and getting a top-secret security clearance is impossible. Without it, I can’t work for the company. Well, that’s not exactly true. The owner of the company said I needed to apply for a Limited Access Authorization. Supposedly, I would have no trouble getting that since my expertise is needed.”
“So…why not apply?”
“I looked into it. Seems it’s harder to get than my boss thinks. LAAs are granted in rare circumstances where the non-U.S. citizen possesses a unique or unusual skill or expertise that is urgently needed. Can’t get higher than Secret clearance. I’m the only one in the company that has a—certain skill set. But since other companies are also clamoring to be part of the NCIC, you can bet they’ll have people with my skill set that are U.S. citizens.”
“Gee…that’s too bad. But you’re not just going to give up, are you?”
“Tonight—I don’t know. On a positive note, the move won’t be complete for eighteen to twenty-four months. Boss says I can fly under the radar until that time.”
“What about becoming a citizen? You plan to stay in the states. Right?”
“I hope so. But I don’t want to give up my Irish citizenship, either.” She sighed.
Tristian clinked the empty coffee cup against the saucer and stared at the waitress.
Nan patted the woman’s arm and frowned, then jerked her head in Tristian’s direction. “I’ll be right back.” She rushed behind the lunch counter, whisked the coffee pot from the warmer so quickly the scalding coffee nearly sloshed over the rim.
Tristian hid a grin behind his hand at her response. Mortals were
so predictable.
Nan paused, let the liquid settle, and walked to Tristian’s table, filled his cup. “Sorry about that.”
He nodded and gave her an obligatory smile.
Several customers entered the diner talking loudly and laughing. They settled into seats on the opposite side of the room. Tristian was glad they didn’t invade his area, as he contemplated doing something he’d never done before. He slid out of the booth and ambled over to the red-headed woman’s table. “Rough day, huh?”
She glanced up at him warily. “You could say that.”
“I understand. Had one of those myself.” He pulled out a chair and glanced over at her. “Mind if I join you?”
She shrugged, “Suit yourself.” and motioned absently to the chair he leaned on.
He offered his hand. “I’m Tristian.”
She hesitated for a beat, then clasped his hand lightly. “Hannah.”
“Nice to meet you, Hannah.” He eased into the chair. “Overheard you’re from Ireland. Been here long?”
Pausing, as if deciding how much to tell him. Since he’d already overheard enough, she said, “I attended college in the states. Right after graduation Shadow Hawk Cyber recruited me. I’ve been there ever since. My friends are there.” She paused. “What about you?”
“Family problems. Didn’t feel like going home.”
“Wife?”
Tristian snorted and gave a half laugh. “No way. Not married.”
She raised a well-shaped red eyebrow questioningly and pursed her lips. “Uh huh.”
“Really. I just came back from a visit with my little sister. I raised her after our parents died.” Why the hell am I spilling my guts to this woman?
Her eyes softened. “Oh, I’m sorry for your loss.”
Waving his hand in a gesture of dismissal he said, “It was a long time ago. Now she’s on her own. Started a business with her childhood best friend. Looks like she’s gone for good.” He shifted in his seat and grimaced. “We didn’t part on the best of terms when she moved out. Hell, she didn’t even tell me she was leaving.” He blew out a breath. “So, I had business where she moved. I stopped by to see her—we went out to dinner and things are better now.”
“Well, that’s a good thing.”
“Mostly… Don’t like the ground rules she insisted I adhere to, but she’s a grown woman.” He shrugged, stood, and walked to his booth to retrieve his cup of coffee. Took a sip.
“Lonely, huh?” Hannah said softly.
“No… Yeah,” he admitted, settling back into the chair.
Nan stopped by their table. “Can I get you two anything?”
Tristian shook his head then changed his mind. “A burger and fries.” He glanced at Hannah. “Want something?”
She scraped her bottom lip through her teeth. “Yes, I’ll take the same. Separate tickets.” She said quickly.
He raised a brow but said nothing. I’ve learned my lesson about crossing strong willed women.
As Nan turned to leave, Hannah added to the order. “Oh, could I have raspberry tea?”
“Iced or hot?”
“Hot.”
“Sure thing. I’ll be right back with the tea.” Nan flitted off to toward the other tables.
“Could be a while before you get your tea.” Tristian watched the waitress change her demeanor as she approached the table full of young men laughing and talking.
“Yeah, a table of hunks. Good thing I’m in no hurry.”
“So, do you live around here?” Tristian turned his attention back to her.
“Yeah. One of the reasons I accepted the job was the area. Small town, close to the ocean, and I found the cutest cottage on the bluffs overlooking the sea. Most mornings I eat breakfast watching the waves crash to the shore, the seabirds swoop and dive for their meals while screaming to defend their territory.” A laugh bubbled up from her throat. “Sometimes the birds make quite a ruckus.”
Nan was back with the tea and more coffee. “Your orders will be right up,” she said cheerfully.
“Oh, I know. I’ve observed the same some evenings.”
“Do you live near the bluffs?”
“Sort of. But I live on the outskirts of town,” he said trying to be vague. Probably said too much already. “You know a person can hold dual citizenship. Especially, in the industry you work in. It’s not uncommon.”
“Really? To be honest, never thought about it. But I did apply for citizenship in the U.S., told me it would be six months to a year. The company helped cut through the red tape.” A slight smile curved her lips. “Maybe, things aren’t so bleak.”
“Of course not,” Nan said as she set the steaming plates in front of Hannah first and then Tristian. “If you need anything else, just holler.” She flounced off to the other tables.
Taking a big bite of his burger, he discovered he was starved. “Sleep on it,” he said around the bite of burger. “Things always seem better in the morning.” He swallowed then chuckled.
She poured ketchup on her plate and dipped French fries in the puddle of red. “Yeah.” She sat quietly for a couple of beats chewing. Her gaze flicked up to him. “You’re not that…” She swiveled around in her chair to look out the window at the parking lot. Sucked in a breath. “That midnight blue low slung sports car isn’t yours, is it?”
“Maybe.” I knew I’d said too much. She’s too damn easy to talk to. Time to go. He quickly finished his meal.
“You’re not that recluse—” Her hand flew to her mouth as red patches bloomed on her cheeks. “I mean…” she stammered. “You don’t live on that huge piece of land with the castle-like house overlooking the ocean?”
Tristian was silent as he contemplated a response. Took a gulp of coffee. He intentionally didn’t mingle with the townspeople anymore, and this was why.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—I’ve driven by that house so many times, wondering…well, it’s none of my business.” She took another bite of her burger, washed it down with tea.
He blew out a breath. “Guilty as charged. My business often keeps me out of town. When my sister went away to college, I didn’t have any reason to rush home. So…”
“I understand.”
“Do you?” He raised a brow and pushed away from the table. “It’s about time I head toward home, got a lot of work to do.” Tristian stood abruptly. “It was nice to meet you.” On his way out the door, he stopped and handed Nan a fifty-dollar bill. “That’s for both meals and your tip. You did a great job.” He yanked open the door, shoved his sunglasses in his pocket, and strode into the dusky evening. How long was I in there? He glanced at his watch, nearly seven o’clock.
On the drive home, Tristian replayed the interaction in his head. The only thing he regretted was that she knew where he lived. In his business, anonymity is necessary. He had enjoyed the interaction. If circumstances were different, he’d consider asking her out. One night stands were getting tedious and unsatisfying. Lanterns atop tall lampposts came on automatically, shedding soft glow in a wide swath as he steered the car up the winding driveway.
Climbing out of the vehicle, Tristian walked up the path, disarmed the security system, and unlocked the door. A familiar scent of lavender wafted through the room as he took off his coat, hung it in the hall coat closet. He glanced at the air freshener plugged into the outlet, noting it was nearly time to change it.
Slowly descending the stairs to his wine cellar, he checked the labels on several bottles before choosing one and trudging back upstairs. After pouring a glass of wine, he glanced at the secure message system. No calls. He sighed and settled in his chair in the great room, swirled the burgundy liquid in the glass, glanced over at the cold hearth.
Flicking his wrist, fingers extended toward the huge stone fireplace, red-orange flames tipped in blue shot up the logs, crackled and hissed like a newly awakened dragon. Though he used it more than most, using magic frivolously wasn’t a good idea, but tonight…he just didn’t give a damn.
Angie would have lectured him, but she wasn’t there. Leaning back in the recliner, he took several sips of wine then set his glass on the table and closed his eyes.
The next time he opened them, sunlight was streaming through the gap in the curtains. He stretched and kicked the recliner into a sitting position and padded upstairs. In the shower, the warm water cascading down his body eased the muscles stiff from spending the night in the recliner. He grabbed the soap, lathered his skin, and rinsed. Toweling off, he decided to prep his vegetable garden today.
Before he’d left for D.C., the rose bush canes were turning green, and a few leaves had started to bud. In the flower gardens, green sprouts poked through the earth, promising spring was on the way. Sean, the gardener, wasn’t due to return for another month.
Dressed in tatty jeans, well-worn running shoes, a sweatshirt, and work jacket, he collected a shovel then tossed four bags of garden soil into the cart and wheeled them out of the shed. After a couple hours, sweat trickled down his forehead, and his damp shirt clung to the contours of his back and chest. Shrugging out of the jacket, he tossed it on the still brown grass. One foot on the shovel and one firmly planted on the ground, a shadow fell across the garden. He glanced up and grinned. “Hi, Birch. How you been?”
“Oh, can’t complain. Yourself?” Birch Coppervale said conversationally leaning on the handle of a hoe.
“I’m doing good. Got a head start on prepping the garden.”
“So I see. Sean is going to have your head if you used up all his supplies before he gets back.” Birch knelt and scooped up a handful of dirt. “Looks like you have a good mix in here, should produce well this year.” He stood brushing off his pants and eyed Tristian. “Well—how’d it go?”
“Not bad, actually. When I first arrived and stopped by the shop, Willow said Angie had gone on holiday with friends. So, I reviewed the paperwork with Bruce and checked in with Willow before I left. She still hadn’t heard from Angie. But she invited me to dinner with her and a boyfriend, Caleb. We had a good visit.
