Just Breathe (The Protectors Book 2)

by Leeanna Morgan

  “Tanner convinced me it was the right thing to do.”

  “I’m glad he did.”

  Tanner pulled out her chair and waited for her to be seated before joining them.

  “Thank you.”

  Tanner’s slight nod did nothing to calm her nerves. She wiped her hands along the top of her jeans and wondered where she should start. “Senator…William…why do you want Abagail’s journal?”

  William glanced from Tanner to Kelly. “Before I answer your question, I have an apology to make. I’m sorry if I appeared rude last time we spoke. In hindsight, I had no right to speak to you like that. I didn’t have the correct facts about the journal or your part in its recovery. All I can say is that I jumped to conclusions and should have known better.”

  Kelly glanced at Tanner. She’d told him Senator Jackson was rude and obnoxious. He wasn’t either of those things now.

  William sat forward. “To answer your question—I want Abagail’s journal so that other people can’t read it.”

  Kelly was shocked by his honesty.

  “Even a senator can be blunt.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “What I thought the journal contained wasn’t entirely accurate.”

  “The Facebook and newspaper articles wouldn’t have helped,” Tanner said.

  Senator Jackson nodded. “As you might have guessed, it wasn’t Abagail’s life that I was trying to hide.” He looked around the café. “I am a descendant of one of the most notorious crime families on the East Coast. As a senator, that poses a few problems.”

  Kelly frowned. “Why hasn’t anyone discovered that connection before?”

  “To the best of my knowledge, no one has ever looked beyond Alexander Jackson’s arrival into the family. To anyone who was interested, Alexander was an orphan who was welcomed into a new home.”

  Tanner moved so that Tess could leave three cups of coffee and a plate of muffins on their table.

  She smiled at both men. “Kelly ordered the white chocolate and huckleberry muffins before you arrived. Can I get you anything else?’

  Both men shook their heads and thanked Tess.

  “Thank you,” Kelly said. She watched Tess welcome another customer into the café and wondered if this had been the best place to meet. Luckily, it wasn’t too busy.

  William sipped his coffee. “There’s nothing like hot coffee on a cold day. Where were we?”

  Kelly unfolded a piece of paper she’d brought with her. “You were telling us why no one has found the link between Alexander and the Irish-American gang you’re related to.”

  Tanner cleared his throat.

  “It’s okay,” William said. “The word ‘gang’ probably suits their operational activities quite well. If anyone has found the link, they haven’t done anything about it. I want to reassure you that I have never had anything to do with that side of my family and I don’t intend to.”

  Kelly looked at the questions on the paper. “If I gave you the journal, what would you do with it?”

  “Is this question in relation to the display at the Smithsonian?”

  Kelly nodded.

  “To be honest, I don’t have a problem with the journal being displayed with the translation. There is no evidence apart from Abagail’s word that Alexander killed his brother. Alexander’s family tree, however, is a different story. That cannot be made public.”

  Tanner cradled his cup of coffee in his hands. “Are you saying that you’re happy for the Smithsonian to display everything Kelly bought at the auction?”

  William nodded. “That’s correct.”

  Kelly still wasn’t happy with his answer. “What would you do with the journal after the display has finished?”

  “I thought we could come to that decision together. From my perspective, if the Smithsonian wants to keep the articles on loan from you and the Jackson estate, I’d be happy for that to continue.”

  She leaned forward. “Are you talking about joint ownership?”

  William Jackson nodded. “My legal team could draft a document that sets out each party’s rights and responsibilities. When we’re both happy with the final document the Smithsonian could become custodians of Abagail’s journal and the other items from the auction.”

  Tanner held the plate of muffins toward the senator. “Including the painting?”

  “If that’s what Kelly wants.” He took a muffin and cut it in half. “This may sound callous, but I don’t have a lot of spare time. The quicker we come to an amicable solution, the happier I’ll be.”

  Kelly took one of the muffins. “I think everything should be kept in one place. I don’t want Abagail’s story or the things she treasured being buried in a musty basement. She deserves more than that.”

  William raised his coffee cup in Kelly’s direction. “I couldn’t agree more. What else would you like to ask me?”

  They spent the next half hour going through each of the issues Kelly wanted him to answer. By the end of the conversation she was more confident about what she needed to do.

  William leaned down and opened the briefcase he’d brought with him. “I have something for you.” He passed Kelly a large brown envelope.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a copy of one of Mary Jackson’s journals. It seems keeping a record of their lives ran in the Jackson family.”

  Kelly’s eyes widened. “Are you saying that Abagail was Mary’s daughter?”

  “Not quite. Read the journal, then give me a call.” William stood and shook Kelly and Tanner’s hands. “I’ll be in contact once my legal team has a draft document you can review. I hope you find who or what is responsible for the fire in your store, Kelly. I can only imagine how difficult it must be for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “All the best. Don’t bother seeing me out. I have a driver waiting to take me to the airport.”

  Tanner watched the senator’s car pull away from the curb. “What did you think of the meeting?”

  Kelly looked at the envelope Senator Jackson had given her. “It was better than I thought. Thank you for organizing it.”

  “It wasn’t me—it was Tank.”

  “I guess I owe Tank my thanks, then. I’ll make a copy of Mary’s journal and leave it at Fletcher Security for you.”

  He nodded and pushed his coffee cup into the center of the table. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Is the insurance company covering all of the damage to your building?”

  “It looks like it. They’re just waiting for the fire investigator’s report.” Kelly folded her list of questions and slipped it into her bag. “Thank you for coming to the meeting.”

  “I said I’d be here.”

  “I know, but a lot has happened in the last two days.” She stood up. Her nerves were strung tight. She needed to leave before she said or did something she would regret. “Bye, Tanner.”

  “Kelly…wait.”

  She turned around, blinking back the tears stinging her eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I can’t…” He looked at the envelope in her hands and sighed. “Let me know when you’ve copied the journal.”

  She nodded and left the café as fast as she could. Tanner had other priorities in his life and so did she.

  With a heavy heart she walked toward her store. Fresh tears filled her eyes as she stared at what was left of her home and business.

  Building contractors had placed huge sheets of plywood across the front windows. The red bricks were black with soot, the door a blistered mass of chipped paint and burned wood. She still wasn’t able to go inside, but at least the building was secure.

  The envelope Senator Jackson had given her weighed heavily in her hands. It was the only bright spot in a day that had gone from bad to worse.

  She took one last look at her building before walking toward her car. She had another meeting this afternoon and then she’d head back to her parents’ ranch.

  Kelly checked her watch. If she w
as quick, she could photocopy Mary’s journal before her meeting and leave it at Fletcher Security for Tanner.

  And after that she’d do her best to move forward with her life. She’d managed just fine before she met Tanner, and she would again.

  ***

  “What are you doing here?” Tank stood in the doorway of the office Tanner was using.

  “Working.”

  “You’re not due back until next week.”

  “I changed my mind.” He opened another document on his laptop and ignored his friend.

  Instead of getting the message and leaving, Tank sat on the edge of the desk. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Not really.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll just keep guessing until you open up your steel-trap mouth and tell me.” He swung his leg backward and forward. “Let’s see…stomping out of Ryan and Sophie’s home on Saturday is a big clue. For men as dedicated to the profession of surveillance as we are, that could only mean one of three things. Either you were late for another social engagement—and we both know that wasn’t the problem. Or you could have been scorned by the woman you love—and I know that’s not true by the way Kelly cuddled up to you when you told me you were more than friends. Or, wait for it, you got your knickers in a knot about something and had a tantrum. My money is on the tantrum.”

  Tanner kept his eyes glued to his computer.

  Tank snorted. “While we’re having this deep and meaningful conversation—even if it is one-sided—I want to know why you asked Kelly to be your girlfriend. You’ve been following her around for a year, inseparable for more than a month, and practically living together for a week. Isn’t it a bit late to be talking about being your girlfriend. Don’t you have other words, such as fiancée, in your vocabulary?”

  “I’d stop now if I were you,” Tanner muttered. “It’s none of your business.”

  Tank’s leg stopped swinging. “If I was feeling sorry for you which, by the way I’m not, I’d remind you that we’ve been through a lot together. I’d tell you that I think of you as my brother. I’d also remind you that I spent a fortune on your Christmas present. But as I’m not feeling sorry for you, I’ll do the next best thing and tell you to get your butt off that seat and go and talk to Kelly. Whatever idiot things you said to her can be fixed.”

  “Considering you know diddly-squat about what you’re saying, I’d say your advice sucks.”

  “Ooh, your words are so piercing. I can feel our brotherly love draining away. Are you sure you’re not suffering from guiltyitis? They say it’s particularly bad after you’ve stabbed someone in the heart.”

  Tanner slammed the lid of his laptop closed. “Will you shut up and go away. I did not stab Kelly in the chest. I just pointed out that we can’t have a relationship if she moves to Great Falls. Actions speak louder than words and moving three hours away doesn’t show me she’s committed to a future together.”

  “Kelly’s moving to Great Falls?”

  He glared at Tank. “I don’t know if she is or not.”

  “Let me get this straight—you broke up with the only woman who’s capable of putting up with your bad ass attitude because you think she’s moving away. That’s almost as ridiculous as saying Christmas is canceled because we might not get snow. Wait a minute…has this got anything to do with the building her cousin found?”

  “It’s got everything to do with it.”

  “Oh, now I get it.” Tank crossed his arms. “You stormed out of the house because Kelly is trying to save her business. How noble of you.”

  Tanner dropped his head to his chest. “I’ve destroyed the only important relationship I’ve ever had.”

  “Probably.”

  “You’re not helping.”

  Tank frowned. “It’s not easy when you’re working with someone who has limited emotional intelligence.”

  “I’m happy with my life.”

  Tank shook his head. “You were happy with your life. Working when you’re supposed to be on vacation is not a sign of happiness—it’s a sign of desperation.”

  “I had a meeting with Kelly and Senator Jackson this afternoon. I thought coming into work would take my mind off what we discussed.”

  “What you discussed or more to the point—Kelly?”

  “Both.”

  Tank pulled a chair over to Tanner’s desk. “Look…until you met Kelly you were too scared to get close to anyone. You had a crap childhood and everything you learned has followed you through life. I get it. But what I don’t get is why you’d turn your back on the one person who can help you through all the stuff you’re dealing with. Kelly cares about you. She might even love you if she was willing to be your girlfriend after all this time. You’ve got to give her a break and think about what she’s going through.”

  “It might be too late.”

  “Believe me—it’s never too late.”

  Tanner took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I’d say to her. She was nearly crying when she left the meeting.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got a lot of thinking to do before you see her. Just don’t mess up your next meeting or it could definitely be your last. I’m going back to my office. If you need any more advice, call me. The first hour is free.”

  Tanner sat back in his chair and stared through the office window. He was in trouble and he didn’t know if he could find his way out of the mess he’d created.

  ***

  Kelly walked into Nick Costas’ gallery and smiled as he gaze took in the new exhibition. After meeting with Senator Jackson and Tanner she needed something to make her see the brighter side of life.

  “You like my cuckoo clocks, Kelly?”

  She looked at the multi-colored boxes and the flamboyant birds decorating the sides of each creation. “They’re not traditional cuckoo clocks, but they’re spectacular.”

  “We will listen to them when they chime on the hour. But that is not why you are here. Let’s go through to my office.”

  Nick had called her that morning. He’d received an email from the Smithsonian and couldn’t wait to show her what they’d discovered.

  He pulled out a chair for her. “I enlarged and printed the attachments Dr. Finnigan sent through.”

  She looked at the large image on the table in front of her. “This was the painting before the top layer was removed.”

  “That is correct. And this…” Nick handed her another image, “…is the portrait after the work was completed.”

  Kelly’s mouth dropped open. “It’s beautiful.” A woman sat on the edge of a balcony with a little girl pressed against her side. She was reading a book and the little girl was looking at her with enormous brown eyes full of wonder. “Are the staff at the Smithsonian sure it’s Mary and Abagail?”

  “There was never any question about Mary’s identity. The woman in the painting bears a remarkable resemblance to the photographs of Mary Jackson. The young girl, however, was more difficult to place. The research team at the Smithsonian could not find any images of Abagail Jackson. But in the end it did not matter.”

  “It didn’t?”

  Nick shook his head. “The artist, my dear, had the foresight to hide little clues in the portrait. These clues would ultimately help the art restoration team identify the young girl.”

  “And?”

  “And it is indeed Abagail Jackson.”

  Tears filled Kelly’s eyes as she looked at Abagail. She’d imagined what she would look like, how she would have felt as her life unfolded.

  Nick patted her shoulder. “It is a momentous occasion. I have only read the summarized version of her journal. One day I would like to read the entire document. I have a feeling this little girl would have many stories to tell.”

  “She did,” Kelly said softly. She leaned forward and looked closely at the portrait. “What clues did the restoration team find?”

  Nick took a magnifying glass out of his top drawer. He passed it to Kelly and pointed to the hem of Abaga
il’s dress. “Look here.”

  Kelly pulled a desk lamp close and held the magnifying glass over the image. “There are letters in the folds of the gown.” Kelly looked at Nick. “It says A.J.”

  He moved his hand. “And here.”

  Nick pointed to the book Mary held.

  Kelly passed the magnifying glass over the canvas. “I don’t understand. I can’t see anything other than the title of the book.”

  “I didn’t see the relevance, either. But Mary is reading Beauty and the Beast. It is a fairytale that weaves many forms of imprisonment into its story; mental, physical, and emotional. More importantly, it also gives hope to the reader. To be free from the chains of imprisonment is something the restoration team believe Mary wanted for Abagail. She wanted this young girl, and maybe herself, to have the freedom to choose what type of life she led.”

  “But Mary lived on a cotton plantation in Charleston. More than sixty percent of South Carolina’s population were slaves in the 1840s. If she believed in freedom she was living in the wrong place.”

  “Sometimes we cannot change our circumstances. I do not know what her motivation was, but the research team told me Mary stayed on the plantation for most of her adult life.”

  Kelly’s mind spun in circles. There were so many things in Mary and Abagail’s lives that didn’t make sense.

  “This is amazing, Nick. I never thought the painting was anything other than an interesting portrait of a woman.”

  “Art is a reflection of the life we live. It burrows beneath the surface, looking for things that cannot be seen with the human eye. Each of us have layers, Kelly, parts of ourselves that we hide from the world. In Mary’s case, she was protecting a child. The research team doesn’t know if Abagail was her biological child, her husband’s daughter, or simply a young girl who touched her heart. What we do know from Abagail’s journal, is that Mary risked her life and social standing to help Abagail find freedom.”

  Kelly pulled the brown envelope out of her bag. “I have something that might help us. Senator Jackson gave me a copy of one of Mary Jackson’s journals. He said it would answer a lot more questions.”

  A slow smile lit Nick’s face. “When you have finished reading her journal, tell me what you have found. Mary Jackson must have been an interesting woman.”