by Desiree Holt
“I told Avery I want the most complete security system she can install. We’re placing rotating cameras at all corners of the house.” Logan released her hand and pointed them out. “Some of them are long range. They’ll catch anyone in the vicinity and approaching the house. And we have others located in trees.” He pointed to one man up in a tall palm tree and another crawling around on the roof of the house. “Everything will feed into the house to three high-tech computers—one in the kitchen, one in the den, and one in my bedroom.”
“Your bedroom? Really?”
He pointed to two more men crawling around on the ground, each with a large canvas bag. “Sensors. Anyone steps foot on the property anywhere, the sensors will trigger the alarm system. If by some electronic miracle, they get past those, I’m also placing sensors on all the windows and doors. If someone tries to get in at night and I’m already in my room, I want immediate access to the cameras to see who it is.”
Devon shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.
“Cold?” Logan looked at her. “Need a jacket?”
She shook her head. “It’s at least ninety-five outside. I’m just having a hard time with the reality of the situation. All this”—she swept her hand to indicate the grounds—“the equipment, the phone calls, everything that happened today. I keep getting the sense I’m trapped in a nightmare. If my father did this deliberately, didn’t he know how it would affect me? I can’t imagine what kind of trouble he could be in that would make him do this.”
“When people are pushed to the wall with no place to go, they do desperate things,” he reminded her. “The question is what devil is he running from?”
She looked up at him and frowned. “I wish I had the answer.”
“We’ll find it,” he assured her. “If anyone can, Vigilance will get the answers.” He studied her face. “So, just to cover all bases, is there a strange face that might be showing up here that I should keep from shooting?”
“Strange face?” Devon pinched her eyebrows together. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“You know, someone special in your life? Semi-special?”
Devon laughed. She couldn’t help it. The men she dated always told her she was too wrapped up in her work, or too independent, or too…something. Translated, she didn’t fawn all over them or show proper appreciation for their prowess in bed. Obviously she had a knack for making poor choices where men were concerned.
“No, no one special. No one at all.”
God. Could she have sounded any more pathetic? And was that a tiny smile twitching at the corners of Logan’s mouth?
“Good to know.” He cupped her elbow. “Let’s take a look at the rest of this.”
When they were through walking the outside, he guided her back into the house. Two men were in the front hall. They had removed the panel from the old security system and were in the process of installing one that looked capable of flying a spaceship.
Devon gave a nervous giggle. “I hope I can figure out how to use that thing.”
“No worries. I’ll make sure of it. I—” His cell rang, cutting off whatever else he was going to say. “Yeah? Uh-huh. No kidding. Uh-huh. All right. We’ll be ready for them.”
“What?” Devon asked when he hung up. “Who was that?”
“Sheri. Two guys in very expensive suits from Cole International just left her office. They’re on their way here.”
“What did she say about them?” Devon worried her lower lip between her teeth.
He snorted, a derisive sound.
“They’re typical corporate stuffed shirts who look like they have a stick up their collective asses. They asked a ton of questions, told her absolutely nothing, and weren’t very friendly.”
Devon frowned. “I just thought of something. They might have a copy of the insurance papers for the boats. Russell Deering was right. I’ll have to file a claim and I have no clue who insures them or anything.”
“Let’s get more information before you worry about filing claims.” He squeezed her hand again. “Maybe we’ll be lucky and your dad will turn up by then.”
“God. Don’t I wish.”
“Anyway, Sheri gave them a copy of the Coast Guard report from this morning and any other information she had, and they took off like their pants were on fire.”
“Lovely. I can hardly wait to meet them. I’m sure they’ll be a gigantic pain in the ass, especially since I have nothing I can tell them.”
“Ahhh, but they might have something to tell you,” he pointed out. “I’m damn well going to pump them as much as I can.”
“Well, bring it on.” She got up to make some coffee. “Want some?” she asked over her shoulder.
“I think I’ll wait until our visitors leave.”
“Okay, but I’m stoking on caffeine.” She took a sip of the hot liquid, aware she needed to be tough. This meeting wouldn’t be any picnic.
As if she’d conjured them up from her mind, the doorbell rang.
“Okay, Devon. Here we go. If anyone asks, I’m your security detail.”
She giggled. “Okay.”
In an unexpected move, he pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her.
“Your body is humming like a high-tension wire. It’ll be fine,” he promised. “You can handle it. You’re a tough cookie.”
The doorbell rang again, twice, as if the person pushing it was impatient.
“I guess they don’t like to be kept waiting,” she joked. “I’m good.” That seemed to be turning into her favorite mantra.
When Logan opened the front door, she saw two men standing there, men who could have popped from the same factory. Both were tall, well groomed, dressed in dark suits with fine linen shirts and silk ties and carrying expensive-looking leather briefcases. Working for Cole International obviously paid well.
“We’re here to see Devon Cole,” the one on the right said.
“Identification, please.”
Logan made it a statement, an order, not a question or a request. After this morning’s episode, Devon was glad he wasn’t letting anyone in the house without some verification of who they were.
He took the business cards they handed him and studied them carefully. Then he stepped back and gestured them inside but only as far as the foyer.
“I’m Craig Alford,” the one on the right said. “And this is Wilson Bodine. Corporate attorneys for Cole International. We weren’t aware there was anyone in the house besides Miss Cole.” He glanced toward the living room where Devon was sitting.
“Is that a problem?” Logan’s voice and face were expressionless.
Devon wondered what they might have to say that made them so picky about who heard it.
“No problem at all.” Wilson Bodine shook his head. “Of course not. But under the circumstances we have to be careful who we discuss anything with. I’m sure you understand it’s a delicate situation. We’ve already had to deal with some of the media who got wind of this. This is very bad publicity for Cole International.”
“Which is why we need to understand your role here,” Alford added in a stiff voice.
“I’m her security detail.”
“Her what?” Alford’s voice almost squeaked the word.
“Security detail?” Bodine repeated. “How about some identification from you, just to be sure you’re who you say you are?”
Devon stifled a snicker at their outrage.
Logan flipped open his wallet and showed them his Vigilance identification.
“Then I’m guessing,” Bodine said, “you have something to do with all those people outside?”
Logan nodded. “New security system.”
“Is there something here that we aren’t aware of?” Alford asked.
“I’m sure there are a lot of things,” Logan told him. “Bu
t first, how about telling us why you’re here.”
Bodine, who seemed to be the one in charge, stepped forward. “If we could sit down, we could discuss this more privately.”
“Yes, of course. Come in and have a seat.”
Devon was more than grateful for the security of Logan’s quiet presence as he introduced the two men to her. They carried an air of hostility that she didn’t understand and it immediately put her on the defensive. What did they have to be hostile to her about? They had questions? She had a few of her own. She sat stoically on the edge of her seat, hands folded in her lap, watching as they seated themselves across from her. She was glad Logan didn’t ask them if they wanted coffee. She certainly wasn’t about to play hostess.
“What can I do for you, gentlemen?” She looked from one to the other. “This is a very difficult time for me, as I’m sure you can understand.”
“And for Cole International,” Alford told her.
“I have no connection with my father’s corporation. I barely know anything about it. But I’m his daughter, so this situation is particularly upsetting for me.”
The two men exchanged another look.
“When was the last time you saw your father?” Craig Alford asked.
“Three weeks ago. Why?”
“Did he discuss any problems he was having? Anything that was bothering him?”
Devon frowned. “Like what? You probably spoke to him more than I do. I was hoping you could tell me something that would help me understand what this was all about. That’s not why you’re here?”
“Anything you can remember at all, Miss Cole,” Bodine persisted, ignoring her comment. “Any little fact you can think of.”
“If there’s something specific,” Logan broke in, “maybe you could dial us in on it and we could be more help.”
Craig Alford cleared his throat. “I’m more interested in anything he might have told you. Something he might not have discussed at the office, or with his executives. Anything he might have given you to hold for him.”
Devon looked from one to the other. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re looking for.”
“Okay.” Logan leaned forward. “You want to let us in on what the hell is really going on here? What aren’t you telling us?”
Devon thought if Alford and Bodine exchanged one more look she might smash their faces.
“Please understand what we’re dealing with here.” Bodine was obviously choosing his words carefully. “Cole International is a business of some significance. We came down here specifically to ask you what you know about your father’s disappearance and what information you can give us. Any personal papers or anything he gave you for safekeeping. On top of Vincent Pellegrino’s death, we’re dealing with some very precarious things.”
“What precarious things?” she demanded.
“I’m sure you understand there are things we can’t discuss. We—”
“If you can’t discuss them,” Logan said, “then what the hell are you doing here upsetting Miss Cole? We thought you were here to see if you could be of any help.”
“We’re sorry,” Bodine said in a stiff voice. “But we need whatever information she can give us.”
“I don’t have any.” She held out her hands, palms up. “Don’t you understand? You probably know more than I do.”
“Perhaps,” Alford said, “if we could look through your father’s office to see if he left anything that would point us in the right direction, that would help us all. Maybe even give us some answers about the fire. We heard about that from Chief March.” He shook his head. “Terrible, terrible thing.”
Devon stared at them, stunned. “You want to go through his private things? I think not. Surely everything dealing with Cole International is available in his office at corporate.”
“Yes, well.” Bodine pressed his lips together.
“What aren’t you telling us?”
“Look, Miss Cole.” Craig Alford’s voice had softened. “We don’t mean to make things unpleasant here. We appreciate your emotional distress and we’re sorry we have to bother you right now. But there are things going on that aren’t for public information. If Graham Cole did a disappearing act with critical information, we have a real problem.”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t think—”
“We don’t think anything. Right now we’re looking for answers.”
“Well, I have none to give you.” Devon clenched her fists. “I thought maybe you were here to see if you could help me.”
Logan covered her clenched fists with his large hand and gave them a gentle squeeze.
“Never mind, Devon. We’re not getting anywhere here. They aren’t going to tell us anything, anyway.” He paused. “Are you aware Miss Cole was attacked on the road on her way into town to see the police? Maybe the two situations are related. Would you happen to know anything about that? I’m very concerned for her safety.”
If she hadn’t been looking, Devon might not have caught the look of shock on their faces replaced by one of anger and then quickly wiped away.
“That’s damn insulting,” the one named Bodine growled. “Why would we know?”
Devon caught the underlying tone of panic. Interesting, she thought.
Logan shrugged. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
“Dial it back, Wilson.” Alford cleared his throat. “Of course it’s a given that her safety is important. I assume, Malik, that’s why you’re on the job?”
“It is. To protect her from everyone.” His voice was edged with sarcasm.
“It’s just important that we get on top of this,” Bodine told her. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how critical that is. Your father is the face of Cole International. His disappearance raises a lot of questions with everyone. We can’t just leave things hanging.” He paused. “For example, do you have his power of attorney?”
Shock ratcheted through her. “Power of attorney? Why would I have that? Wouldn’t it more likely be someone at Cole International? One of you as the corporate attorneys? Or maybe his personal one?”
Alford shifted uncomfortably.
“Mr. Cole recently changed personal attorneys. We discovered it when we contacted the one he’s had for years. Graham gave him a written request for all the files, both print and digital.”
Logan frowned. “And he wouldn’t tell you where he sent them?”
“Graham took them with him.” Bodine practically spat the words. “He had all the digital files copied onto a thumb drive and then stood there while a paralegal erased them from the server.”
Devon couldn’t help the tiny smile that tilted the corners of her mouth. “Apparently he no longer trusted anyone with his personal papers.”
“He hardly trusted anyone,” Logan added, “if neither of you has his power of attorney. Would you happen to know why that is?”
The men exchanged one of their many looks.
“He set it up to be good for one year, renewed annually.” Alford cleared his throat. “Last week I reminded him the one we had expired. I was unable to pin him down to sign the new one.”
“It makes things damn difficult,” Bodine insisted. “We can only operate for so long without it. That’s why we were hoping you had copies of everything and can provide us with them.”
Devon had to bite down on her anger, to keep from telling them her father’s disappearance was more important to her than any of their priorities or business contacts. “I’ll say this once more so please listen carefully to me. I just found out about everything this morning. I don’t know where my father has gone or why. I don’t have any information. I don’t have any papers. I can’t say that any more plainly.”
Logan rested a hand on her shoulder, or she would have jumped up and smacked the guy. “Okay. That’s it. We’re done here. Now.” He rose to his feet.
“If you want updates, I suggest you keep in touch with Chief March.”
Alford looked as if he had something else to say but his companion shook his head.
“Let’s go.” Bodine looked at Devon. “We’re sorry to have disturbed you.”
Yeah, I’ll bet.
Devon also stood up, doing her best to keep a lid on her anger. “Mr. Malik will show you to the door.”
She turned her back and walked out of the room. In the kitchen she took a long moment to steady herself, to fight back the anger seething through her. The jackasses hadn’t even asked if she was okay or if the company could do anything for her. She heard Logan ushering the men to the door, their voices protesting one last time. Then he was right beside her, his arm around her shoulders, giving her a slight squeeze.
“You okay?” His deep voice rolled over her like warm molasses.
“I’m mad more than anything else.” She curled her hands into fists. “They’re lucky I didn’t punch one of them in the nose.”
He laughed, and the sound sent heat surging through her. “That I’d pay to see. But good. Mad is good.”
“I thought maybe they had information they could share with us,” she told him. “But that’s not why they came here. They never even asked how I was holding up or anything.”
“I don’t like those guys. Devon, my antennae are vibrating here. I’ve met men like that before. Been on the other side of the table from them. What’s driving them is more than just concern for the business. Something doesn’t add up here.”
“What do you mean, other than the obvious?”
“They were in a panic about your father’s personal papers or anything relating to the company he might have had here. More than just standard operating procedure. They were fishing for something. CEOs die all the time, and even without a power of attorney the companies keep functioning while it all gets sorted out. They have a hidden agenda and I damn well want to find out what it is.”
