ESCANTA: A James Thomas Novel (The James Thomas Series Book 1)

by Brooke Sivendra

  I wonder if that’s how Eric felt? Mak thought. Eric was her husband—her husband who had disappeared thirteen years ago.

  Her husband’s disappearance was something she had come to accept over the years. At first, she’d been devastated and concerned. But every night that he hadn’t come home, the worry and anxiety had faded until it ceased to exist—Mak no longer expected him to return. She’d never been able to find out what had happened to him, but she knew him, and his tenacity, and if he met with foul play, he wouldn’t have made it easy to take him, or to hurt him.

  Mak and her husband had married young, at the tender age of twenty-two, and if she were being honest it was unlikely that their marriage would have lasted even if he hadn’t gone missing. They were two very ambitious people who put their own needs first. Always. They both wanted success, which is probably why they had connected in the first place, but ultimately that drive would’ve destroyed them. Anyone who’s been married for longer than five minutes will tell you that dedicating all of your time to your career, and none to your spouse, is not a good recipe for a long and happy marriage.

  Mak still clearly remembered the night he went missing, as uneventful as it had seemed at the time. She’d been up late studying for a law exam when he called saying he’d be home within the hour. It was nothing out of the ordinary that he had been out late, since he was often at some networking event or another, and she’d barely responded, more irritated than anything that he’d disrupted her study just to tell her he’d be home soon. But four hours later when she’d looked up from the textbooks her head had been buried in, he still wasn’t home. And he hadn’t walked in the door since.

  Some days, like today, Mak thought about her husband, and other days he was completely absent from her thoughts. She had initially hired a private investigator to look for him, after the police had come up with nothing, but they, too, proved fruitless and a waste of money. Eventually, after years without a single answer, she’d given up and moved on with her life. She still wished she knew what had happened to him, though. And she wished she had a body to bury and a chance to say goodbye.

  But life wasn’t going to give her that.

  CHAPTER TWO –

  JAMES THOMAS

  “Samuel,” James said, deliberately slowing down to ensure he stayed six paces behind the petite blond who had kept him awake all flight. He’d intended to sleep, as he’d done so little of it lately, but she’d been an unexpected distraction. And an unwelcome one. “Anything to report?”

  “No, you need to give me more time, James,” Samuel replied.

  James didn’t want to give him more time—he wanted answers, and he wanted them now. He wanted to know who Escanta was, and why they were hunting him.

  But he’d also worked with Samuel a long time and he knew the lack of information wasn’t from a lack of trying. James masked his frustration, which he knew better than to take out on Samuel, particularly given his next request.

  “Okay. Also, I need you to run a report on a woman named Makaela Ashwood. She was sitting in seat 6A on my flight. Send it to my phone when you’re done.”

  James dropped farther behind when Makaela didn’t turn at the exit to the baggage carousel, but instead continued toward the airport exit. She wasn’t in London long, then, if she’d only taken carry on, he thought. He knew she was American, based on the accent he’d picked up when she was talking to the airhostess, so chances were she lived in New York.

  “Ah, sure. But why?” Samuel asked.

  James didn’t have the answer, or at least a suitable answer. She’d captured his attention from the moment she walked on to the plane. She was stunning with small features and plush lips. But the longer he observed her the more he saw the contradictions in her appearance versus her personality. He’d been watching her, trying to work out why she had him so intrigued, when she’d turned to face him. She met his gaze and she didn’t back down—not even from the look he was giving her. It wasn’t a look intending to scare her, but nor was it a look inviting her to flirt with him. He couldn’t remember being instantly so attracted to another woman, which in equal parts both fascinated and concerned him. Perhaps recent events had affected him more than he realized. Regardless, he wanted to know more about her, even if he intended to do nothing with the information.

  “I’m not sure yet,” James said elusively.

  Samuel paused but didn’t press him further. “Well, when do you want this by? I can only do so much,” he said, and James could hear him typing as he spoke.

  Samuel was a brilliant computer hacker and over the years they had grown so close that James now considered Samuel family. And he was one of only three people James completely trusted.

  “Run it now, it shouldn’t take too long, and then get straight back on to Escanta. I want to know what this organization is,” James said, moving into the taxi queue with no intention of catching a cab. He was still watching her, and watching everyone around them—he was always alert, his eyes always darting from point to point. With his past, everything that moved was a potential threat.

  “Right, I’ll send it through when it’s done,” Samuel said. “By the way, how did you get her name?”

  James grinned. “Let’s just say the airhostesses shouldn’t leave their paperwork lying around,” he said.

  Samuel laughed. “I see. I’ll get back to you shortly,” he said before ending the call.

  James slid his phone into his pocket.

  Makaela looked over her shoulder, as if looking for a shadow. She’d done it several times, and she’d looked uneasy on the flight. Why is she so anxious? What does she have to fear? A black car pulled up and a man, who was not the driver, stepped out and ushered her into the car. Security. James memorized the number plate as it drove off and then sent it to Samuel. Why does Makaela Ashwood need security?

  James ducked out of the taxi line and walked toward the parking lot, where a Thomas Security car was waiting for him. He looked over his own shoulder now, checking for any shadows, but he was safe for the moment. London had been an unexpected trip, and one he wished he hadn’t had to take. But the thing about your past is that it’s never far behind you, and it always catches up with you.

  James had been tying up some loose ends for a client in Spain when he noticed he had a shadow other than his own. It had happened in a restaurant. He noticed a pair of eyes looking at him one too many times and his sixth-sense told him not to ignore it. James had a friendly chat with the man in the bathroom, left with the man’s phone, and then had put Samuel to work. Three hours later he was on a flight to London.

  James reversed out of the parking bay and exited the lot, driving directly to Thomas Security—his company’s headquarters and his place of residence. Thomas Security was a purpose-built building, and it was the safest place on Earth for him and his brother Deacon, Samuel, and Cami. They had everything they needed in one building, and it was riddled with escape routes. They hadn’t had to use them yet, and hopefully they never would.

  When James pulled into the company parking lot he checked his phone: nothing from Samuel. He grabbed his overnight bag, slung it over his shoulder and took the elevator up to his apartment. He went through the motions of unlocking his door—a series of security passes that included fingerprint and retina matches—and then walked into a silent, dark foyer. The curtains were drawn, as they always were, and his apartment looked like a showroom. There was nothing personal—no photographs, no travel mementos, and no family heirlooms. There was no point collecting possessions when you might need to disappear and leave it all behind. And he had no memories, let alone heirlooms, of his family. One of Thomas Security’s best-kept secrets was that the two brothers who ran it were not really brothers at all—at least not biologically. But they had become brothers in every other sense and James thought of Deacon as his brother, as family.

  James dropped his bag onto the floor of his bedroom and walked to his ensuite. He stripped off his clothes and stepped underne
ath the gullying shower, but only for a few minutes. He had to be somewhere, and he was already late.

  James threw the towel over his head, drying his shaved scalp and then the rest of his body, and then hung it up, walking naked back to his bedroom. He dressed in a black suit, and debated whether he should wear a bow-tie or a tie. He settled on a tie, knotted it, and then checked his phone again: still no report.

  He ran a finger along his brow in frustration. He was itching to call Samuel and find out why it was taking so long, but Samuel didn’t take well to being pestered—James knew this from experience. James also knew that interrupting him constantly was counterproductive. But what could be taking so long? Samuel could create a basic security report in minutes—personal details, bank accounts, employment history, relationship history—it was all readily accessible if you knew where to look and had the access to the files.

  James heard his apartment door open but he didn’t panic. There were only four people with a code to his apartment, and for anyone else, it was virtually impassable. James met Cami in the hallway.

  “You scrub up nicely,” Cami said. She was one of his most valuable employees, and one of his only true friends, along with Samuel and Deacon. She pushed a wrapped gift into his hands and adjusted his tie. He shooed her away.

  “What’s this?” James asked, assessing the gift.

  “A present for Zahra and Jayce. You can’t turn up to an engagement party without a gift. You do realize that, don’t you?”

  James rolled his eyes and walked toward his kitchen. Cami followed him.

  “What did you buy?” James asked. It was surprisingly heavy and he set it down on the kitchen island while he poured himself a glass of juice. He held up the container but Cami shook her head, indicating she didn’t want one.

  “It’s a gift from Thomas Security, as such. I bought a beautiful album. It even has a glass front, and I printed a collection of photographs from our surveillance.”

  James blinked in surprise. It was a thoughtful gift, even if a little unusual. Zahra Foster and Jayce Tohmatsu were clients of Thomas Security, and their case had been one of the most difficult James had ever worked on—primarily because there were so many unknown factors, and so many elements of their past that it had been nearly impossible to know who and what they were dealing with. He hoped to never see a case like that again. They were still clients of Thomas Security, but their security had been dramatically downgraded. James hoped it stayed like that but their future was uncertain—their situation could potentially erupt again at any point but James’ gut instinct told him the danger was over, in this lifetime at least.

  “Thank you, Cami, I’m sure they’ll love it,” James said, knowing Cami must have sifted through thousands and thousands of photographs and video footage in order to create the album.

  “Well, I thought they might as well get something nice out of their experience. I think the best moments are captured when we’re not looking at the camera, not trying to smile and appear perfect,” Cami said, looking down at the gift.

  She looked thoughtful, and James wondered if she was thinking of something, or someone, in her own past, but he didn’t ask. She never asked about his past, which he appreciated, and in return he never asked about hers. Their pasts were buried in secrecy and it was best that they stayed that way.

  Cami looked up again, a faint smile on her lips, a silent understanding. “You should get going,” she said, picking up the gift and placing it back in his arms.

  The location of the engagement party was a rooftop cocktail bar in Manhattan, the place of Zahra and Jayce’s first date. His company was handling the security and, upon entering, James immediately located Deacon, standing in the corner that gave the best view of the rooftop. James slid between guests and sidled up to his brother.

  “How is everything?” James said, surveying the party.

  “Uneventful, as planned. Zahra looks beautiful,” Deacon said with a smirk on his face.

  James snorted, his gaze landing on her. Her bright green eyes sparkled even from where he stood.

  “She’s taken, Deacon,” James said, grinning. Zahra was exactly Deacon’s type, but he’d never tell Jayce that, especially after Deacon had kissed her one day in the middle of their case. It had been necessary to test their theory, but Deacon had been a little too quick to put his hand up for the job.

  “Things can change,” Deacon said, laughing at his own joke.

  If there were ever two people truly destined for each other, two people completely in love, it was Zahra and Jayce. And despite that, James knew Deacon was only joking around—he might want to get into bed with Zahra for a few months but that’s where he would want it to end. Deacon’s heart belonged to someone else, someone who had died a terrible death.

  Since her death, both James and Deacon had agreed—no girlfriends. They had few rules but that was one of them and the reason was twofold—the woman would never truly know whom she was with, and that didn’t make for a great relationship, and purely by association with them she would have a target hanging over her head.

  James and Deacon survived because they knew how to, they had done it all their lives, but even still it was a daily fight. A woman would only greatly complicate things and create a weak spot in their plans—if you love someone, you will do anything for them, and your enemies know that.

  “So tell me, how was London?” Deacon said, looking straight ahead.

  “We have a name but I’m waiting to hear more from Samuel. They are after me, though, not you. The guy said to me ‘they have been hunting you.’ There was nothing mentioned about you, Deacon. This goes deep into my past, long before we met,” James said.

  Deacon was silent for a moment. “We’ll figure it out,” he said confidently.

  It wasn’t the first time someone had come after James, and it wouldn’t be the last. Being a hunted man was a lifelong battle.

  James nodded his head, watching Jayce now. And it was almost as if Jayce could feel eyes on him because he lifted his head and cast James a grin.

  “I’ll be back,” James said to Deacon. He walked toward Jayce, who was politely separating himself from the conversation he’d been having. They shook hands in greeting.

  “It’s good to see you again. How is life in Tokyo?” Jayce said, patting him on the back.

  “Much the same, Jayce, much the same,” James said, giving him a teasing smile. Jayce never respected the request not to ask questions about his life, or his past—he just couldn’t seem to help himself.

  James leaned across, interrupting the conversation quickly, to give Zahra a kiss on the cheek and his congratulations.

  “Thank you,” Zahra said. “But I’m sure this didn’t come as a surprise to you, did it?”

  James smiled at Jayce and shrugged his shoulders.

  Jayce laughed. “Other than my father, James was the first to know. And he was the first to see the ring. I didn’t want to keep it in our apartment until we moved into Luma Street, so I gave it to James to store at Thomas Security. It was probably safer there than it was in the bank vault.”

  If anyone had asked James if he thought Zahra and Jayce would make it, he would’ve absolutely said no. But the two of them were a lesson in forgiveness and persistence.

  “Can you have a drink tonight?” Jayce asked with mischievous eyes.

  “One drink,” James said.

  Jayce chuckled. “I guess this party is going until noon, then,” he said sarcastically, referencing the one and only other time they’d had a drink together.

  “Come on.” Jayce led him toward an empty couch in the corner and ordered two double whiskeys. “It’s technically one drink, Thomas.”

  James scoffed as he sat on the chair opposite Jayce. “I brought you something,” James said, slipping his hand into his inner jacket pocket. He pulled out a small box of Cuban cigars: Kyoji’s favorite.

  Nostalgia fogged Jayce’s eyes and a sad smile formed on his lips. “I’ve been thinking a
bout him all day,” Jayce said, looking down at the box.

  Kyoji Tohmatsu, Jayce’s brother and best friend, had been killed during the case. He’d taken a bullet, one intended for Jayce, and to this date he was the only client ever killed under Thomas Security’s watch—that’s what could happen when orders are disobeyed. James still had a soft spot for the Tohmatsu brothers, though—they were fiercely loyal, which James respected immensely, and in another life they could’ve all been friends.

  “I thought so, so let’s have one for Kyoji,” James said, opening the box.

  “For Kyoji,” Jayce repeated.

  James pulled a cutter and a box of matches from his other pocket and they lit up just as the waiter returned with their drinks.

  “Can you believe it? That we’re sitting here at my engagement party?” Jayce said, shaking his head softly.

  James grinned. “I would say stranger things have happened, but I’m not sure they have.”

  Jayce laughed and winked at him before puffing on the cigar. “So, really, how is life in Tokyo? Any plans to move back to New York?”

  James was no longer based in Tokyo, but that was none of Jayce’s concern. “We’ll see—it always depends on our clients and what they need.”

  Jayce ran his finger along his jaw, and James knew he was mentally forming his next question. They always played the same game: Jayce asked questions, James deflected them.

  James brought his glass to his lips but he paused midway and Jayce didn’t miss it. Jayce turned to look over his shoulder as Makaela Ashwood walked directly toward them.

  What the hell? James swore silently.

  Makaela saw him too and a flash of fear registered in her eyes, and then they darted from side to side like she might run, but she didn’t. James noted she drew a deep breath and continued pace beside Zahra.

  “There you are,” Zahra said, looking at Jayce. “I wanted to finally introduce you to Maya’s sister, Mak Ashwood.”