by Sheila Kell
Scanning the room, Matt had to agree many had clustered in small circles. Only about twenty people had already arrived. While some had come together near a standalone bar where the caterer was serving drinks. For the meal, the chef and helpers had taken over Caitlyn’s kitchen and the small work area in the training facility—but the majority of potential donors were watching the dogs and the veterans. Matt had thought that the dressed up rich people would prefer to stay away from the dogs and dog hair, but it appeared Caitlyn knew her audience well.
Everyone greeted her, and Matt—not being introduced as her fiancé, which surely pleased Hart—remained steady by her side, receiving quite a few winks, either from some secret he’d missed or in flirtation. He hoped not flirtation, because the women were too old for him and the men were… well, men. He didn’t hold anything against someone who swung that way, but he loved women. Not all women, just his Caitlyn.
As she worked the room, more and more people arrived. She’d explained that only half of them were actual donors, and the others were their plus-one, and some had their own large pocketbook. That made him equally ecstatic for Caitlyn’s purpose and uncomfortable with how he’d keep her safe. If only Hart would quit sticking to her, he’d feel better. There was no doubt in his mind that when it came to Hart, it was 100 percent jealousy. Would this man swoop in while he was in Baltimore closing up his life there while he found a way to move to Winchester? No, he assured himself. Caitlyn loved him. She wouldn’t turn to another man as soon as Matt was out of sight. He knew better than to even think like that. Caitlyn had been through a lot, and he’d been the one to help her recover. Oh, she hadn’t recovered fully—probably never would—but she’d opened herself to him.
A catering employee whispered in Caitlyn’s ear, and she nodded. “It’s time to eat. Would you both excuse me so I can announce it to everyone else?” She pointed to a table on the opposite side of the room. “Tate, your table is over there.”
How had she known that off-hand? Surely she’d reviewed the seating charts, but to remember where the man sat stuck in Matt’s crawl. Maybe his jealousy wasn’t unfounded because she’d set him across the room from her.
“I’d love to sit with you,” Tate nearly gushed like a schoolgirl.
Caitlyn shook her head, her hair flowing around her to perfectly frame her beautiful face. “I’m sorry. Seating has already been assigned, and my table is full.”
Hart looked over her head at Matt and gave him a “watch your fucking back” look. It took a good amount of his resolve to not punch the prick right in his face. He didn’t want her party to be ruined over bloodshed of a potential donor.
Matt wondered why the dickwad hadn’t donated yet. He’d talked to everyone on staff and watched plenty of training. He best not be stringing her along, hoping for a hookup with Caitlyn as part of his reward. Matt would have to kill the fucker if that were the case. Tonight, they’d have to make sure they tried to firm up his donation.
Turning to Matt, Caitlyn placed a hand on his chest and quietly told him to go sit, and she’d be right there. He didn’t like it, but their table was front and center anyway, so he could keep a close eye on her. When he arrived at the table with Rick and his partner, along with Tonya and her plus one—a not so bad looking man even though he didn’t rate other men. A snort almost escaped at the memory of when he was in high school telling Brad how handsome he was because it meant his twin—himself—would also be handsome. It’d been vain, but he’d been a teenager, and a girl had said he was ugly. Of course, that’d been right after the twins had broken each other’s nose. He probably hadn’t looked that ruggedly handsome.
Vivian Blanche, who had to be in her seventies, rounded out the table of eight with a young, muscular man doting on her. The man blushed when Vivian introduced him as her date for the evening. Later, Matt learned from the man that he was a nurse with the group that cared for Vivian. She might act like a spry spring chicken, but she was sicker than she wanted people to notice. For some reason, that wholeheartedly included not worrying Caitlyn with the fact.
Already being briefed on Vivian from Caitlyn—how the woman sent them ten thousand dollars a year with the exception of the last couple of years—it was easy to see she cared for the older woman. That pleased him that the feeling was mutual. Caitlyn didn’t need to be hurt by anyone.
Caitlyn announced dinner was being served, and those still loitering turned to find their tables. After standing and helping Caitlyn in the chair on his left, he sat and turned to Tonya on his right. “This is incredible. You did great, Tonya. There aren’t any empty seats.”
The woman blushed at his compliment. “It was nothing. I got help along the way like how to manage all the vehicles when there really isn’t a parking lot.”
“But you did it,” he said, thinking of how professionally staged the vehicles were on the drive and in part of the yard.
“Oh, a valet from town and an off-duty deputy sheriff volunteered to take over that daunting challenge.”
He chuckled. “You are smart to know when to hand stuff off. I’ve heard that many party planners keep a tight hold on things until everyone hates to work for them.” Where he gained that knowledge escaped him, but he’d heard it somewhere before. Probably from one of his sisters-in-law.
“I won’t lie. This is the first time I’ve handed anything off. But we haven’t had an event here. Usually the hotel takes care of most everything. Besides, plenty of people in this community will do whatever they can to support what Caitlyn has built. She just doesn’t realize the depth of the conviction to Helping Paws.”
He was beginning to see the draw to her place from those in attendance. Hadn’t he heard several people flew in for this shindig? They had to have, because he couldn’t see that much money in town alone. It wasn’t that they couldn’t make that much money; it was just a smaller place than Baltimore.
Caitlyn ate maybe two bites from her citrus salmon dinner. He imagined it had to be nerves since she was expected to give a short speech. In an attempt to soothe her, he held her hand under the table once it was apparent she wasn’t going to eat another bite. He’d devoured his filet with a crabmeat topping and the loaded potato side. The roasted asparagus was left untouched. Oh, he liked his vegetables, but asparagus hadn’t made the cut since they made his pee stink.
When dessert was served, he released Caitlyn’s hand in the hope that she’d at least nibble on some of the mini-cheesecake sampler placed before her. He didn’t hold back. It was fantastic, and again, like the size of the filet, he wished for more. He couldn’t complain. The same sizes would’ve been served to him in a fancy restaurant, but when he liked to cook, he’d prepare more to fuel his large frame.
Tonya leaned in close to Matt. “I need to talk with you.” The urgent whisper in her voice had the hair rising at the nape of his neck. He covertly glanced around as best he could. He hated the fact that he hadn’t checked their seating assignments at the table early since now he couldn’t see everyone without turning his head, which made it obvious. He liked to see the entire room, plain and simple, and he’d been so green with jealousy of Hart he hadn’t left Caitlyn’s side long enough to ensure he had the best seating.
Giving his attention to Tonya, he swallowed hard and the delicious dinner roiled in his stomach.
The woman looked almost green. “Can we slip away a second after Caitlyn leaves the stage and does her walk around for committed donations that she didn’t receive earlier? I’d prefer you didn’t tell her or… Rick about it.”
Sensing the importance of this—at least to Tonya—he nodded slowly. “Is she in danger?” he whispered.
“No.”
Relief swooshed through him at that. No way did he want to leave her alone, but he’d make sure they were somewhere he could at least watch her. He’d been informed that while she walked the group before the event, that was more of a welcome, even though some confirmed contributions. It was after the event when she had to work the ro
om to gain those commitments of funds.
Caitlyn leaned into him as she placed her cloth napkin on the table. “Wish me luck.”
Without a thought, he kissed her lightly on the mouth to not mess up her makeup as she’d asked, and whispered, “Good luck,” against her slightly parted lips.
Her smile grew, and she stepped up to the makeshift stage and microphone. Mesmerized is what he could call the people in the audience. Before she was done, she had them eating out of her hands.
God, he was so proud of her. Sure, what she’d accomplished with building Helping Paws was commendable, but not allowing what had happened to her to prevent her from doing this—something like asking for money—was damn amazing. And by surviving tonight, she’d enjoy the other fruits of her labor and her dogs. There was a graduation ceremony for Cooper, Bella, Sadie, and Gabe tomorrow, and she’d invited everyone present. It wouldn’t be anything fancy, but it’d be a changing of the guard, so to speak.
Once she stepped down, donors swarmed her and Matt wanted to rush to her side and protect her. But these people weren’t a threat to anything but her time, and she’d give it to them whether they donated or not.
The people at his table began to stand, and he followed suit. Once they’d moved away, Tonya placed one hand on his arm. “Now, please?”
He nodded, and they walked to the back of the room and into a corner. Tonya wanted to go outside, but he informed her that he wasn’t losing track of Caitlyn.
Seeming somewhat appeased, Tonya informed him she hadn’t had the heart to tell Caitlyn, but she couldn’t wait another moment to share her suspicions. She then proceeded to tell him a story that made his blood boil to the level he wanted to throttle someone. That someone had been hurting Caitlyn, whether she’d known it or not.
MATT ALMOST IGNORED his vibrating phone. Good sense had him reaching into his pocket and pulling it out. Devon’s name flashed on the screen, so he connected the call. “Yeah.”
“I hear that I need to set you up remotely,” his brother stated.
Barely able to hear the call over the noise in the room, he moved near an empty spot where he could still watch everything, especially Caitlyn mingling. “Yeah. If she’ll have me.”
“I remember when you dated way back when. She’ll have you.”
“Think it’ll be a problem?”
Devon, seeming to understand his vague question, added, “It’ll be fine. We’ll just have to get used to calling you up when we meet. Besides, it’s not very often we’re all here together.”
He smiled at that. While the group of brothers decided cases, workloads, pay, etc., they allowed Jesse to be the figurehead and final decision maker. There were too many times they needed one direct response without waiting, and Jesse provided that. When he wasn’t available, Devon stood in his stead. Brad had always told them, “Age before beauty.”
“Also, as you know, Jesse wants us to discuss leasing a plane or finding a share in one that we can use to help us get to jobs faster. It makes sense since so many are last minute with little time to lose. Like a kidnapped kid.”
“I can’t imagine they’re cheap, but if we can afford it,” Matt agreed, “I think we should do it. That could really help with the weapons issues also.” Sometimes they were limited with what they could take on a commercial flight—even in the locked hard-sided container required for an unloaded weapon. Airport security worked with them, but sometimes airline policy didn’t. He didn’t even want to get started on shipping the rifles.
“Yep. Okay, I really called about that name you made me look into. I couldn’t find a Tate Hart that meets your description. If he’s planning to donate one million dollars, I can’t find where from. I tried a couple variations on his first name even though Tate isn’t really short for anything that I’m aware exists. But, nothing. Sorry, man.”
His temper flared. That asshole had been leading her on with the promise of something to benefit her organization. “Son of a bitch!” Matt sounded. He scanned the room, looking for where Caitlyn was. “I’ve got to go, but I need your help on another matter. Check out bank accounts for Rick Marsh. I think his name is Richard. I think he’s skimming off the donations that are submitted via check to Caitlyn’s foundation. Get Em involved. Tonya, her other employee, noticed separate deposit slips when he did a bank run, so try Caitlyn’s bank first.”
Without waiting for a response from Devon, he ended the call and pushed his way through the small crowd to get to the opposite side of the room where Hart was trying to lead Caitlyn toward an exit. Several of those in attendance tried to stop Matt and chat about Caitlyn and Helping Paws since they’d seen him in her company earlier. She’d have to forgive him for being rude to her potential donors, but whether she realized it or not, she needed him. Hart was up to something. But what?
After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, he reached the exit that he’d seen them slip through. What could Caitlyn have been thinking? He quickly reminded himself that she didn’t consider Hart a threat. More of an annoyance. In her mind, the threat to her life was lying up in a hospitable bed.
Stepping out the door, he took a moment to allow his eyesight to adjust. His heart pounded in fear for Caitlyn, and fear he wouldn’t be there when she needed him… like before.
Hearing a muffled squeal, he quickly moved in that direction while his gaze took in the entire area, trying to locate Caitlyn and the asshole who just might die tonight if he hurt her. Zeroing in on them, he charged toward them, raging anger filling him and flowing in each heavy step. Seeing Caitlyn struggling in Hart’s embrace froze his blood. Oh hell no!
Matt pulled his weapon from beneath his jacket and pointed it at Hart’s back, not wanting Caitlyn in danger from one of his bullets. “Let her go,” he asserted.
Hart froze and slowly turned to Matt with a smirk on his face. Seeing the weapon in Matt’s hand, his smirk dropped and he narrowed his eyes. After a moment, he slowly lifted his hands. “What’s the problem? Jealous of a little competition?”
Ignoring the questions, Matt’s eyes never left Hart, but his voice softened for Caitlyn. “Come here, Caitlyn.”
She scooted around Hart and hid behind Matt.
Thank the fuck she didn’t argue. The asshole had been trying to kiss or whatever with her. He’d had her in an unwelcome embrace. Matt would love to shoot out the fucker’s balls, but that would cause too much trouble for him. “I want you to leave and never come back here.”
“Matt?” Caitlyn questioned quietly. Her shaking hand rested on his shoulder. This incident had to have freaked her out, but she seemed to be holding it together. “He just tried to kiss me. I’m sure we can clear up the misunderstanding.”
His grip on his weapon tightened. Misunderstanding? God, she had a big heart. “Caitlyn, he’s a fraud. He doesn’t exist. Believe me, Devon tried to find any trace of him and the money he keeps talking about. He’s here because he wants you.”
Quizzically, she looked around Matt at Hart. “Tate?”
“I’ll just leave now. We could’ve been good together, Caitlyn.” Tate walked backward from them until he reached the front yard. Then he turned and strode to the valet for his vehicle.
While Hart—or whatever the hell his name was—waited for his car to be delivered, Matt lowered his weapon and put it away. He reached around him—not taking his eyes off Hart—and pulled Caitlyn into his arms. He still wanted to pummel the motherfucker, but he had Caitlyn to worry about. She shook and squeezed tightly around his waist, her face buried in his chest.
“Thank you.” The weakness in her voice didn’t match the ferocity of her grip on him.
He tightened his hold on her, and once Hart was gone, Matt dropped his head into her hair and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry I was late to protect you.” Anguish laced his voice. She shook her head, and he couldn’t care less that she was probably leaving makeup all over his suit jacket, tie, and shirt. As long as she was safe. That was all that mattered. What had that a
sshole planned? Would he have forced her away? Surely not. There was a sheriff’s deputy near the vehicles. A mental shudder went through him at the thought of her being taken against her will once again.
“He just tried to kiss me. That’s all.”
“That’s too much without your permission.” He rubbed his hands up and down her back in a soothing gesture. Way too much spun in his mind. He imagined it was in her mind also, but she was trying to be brave. He just knew she did it to help him relax. “I’m sorry.”
Caitlyn pulled her head back and looked at him with tears in her eyes. “What did you mean he’s a fraud?”
“Oh, honey, he’s using a fake name for some reason. He doesn’t have money. I really think he fell in love with you at first sight and said whatever he needed to get close to you.” That at least sounded logical. Whether it was the truth was a different matter. If Matt hadn’t known that Caitlyn needed his comfort after extracting her from Hart, he’d have detained the man to find out the why of it all. He just prayed that was the last they saw of whatever his true name happened to be. Maybe he’d see if he could find some prints and ID the bastard so that she can get a restraining order.
When a tear slid down her face, he wiped it off with his thumb. He prayed she wore that waterproof makeup shit women sometimes chose, because there were a lot of potential tears floating in the rims of her bright eyes. Sure enough, the next second she broke down crying. He placed his palm on her head and guided her back into his chest. Fuck whether his coat absorbed her tears and makeup.
“At first”—she hiccupped—“I thought I was back there. In Oxford. When—”
“Shh, sweetheart, you’re safe. Ripley can’t get to you anymore. Neither can Hart.”
That statement stuck with Matt the remainder of the evening. After Caitlyn had freshened up, she’d returned to her potential donors and Matt watched her expertly gain commitments of hundreds of thousands of dollars for Helping Paws.
