by Leslie North
Standing, Scotty headed into a backroom and came back with a photo and a book. “We left the present wrapped—we…we hoped to get it to Nick’s wife, but she seems to have disappeared. That’s the book. And that’s Nick’s wife—Natalie.”
Taking the photo, Anna stared at it. She touched the images. The man looked happy—smiling at the camera. The woman—small and dark—seemed vaguely familiar to her. But she focused on the other details.
“This was taken in the company studio. The backdrop’s a custom one—I had it painted by a local artist. It’s supposed to look like the garden outside Monticello. But I wanted more color and the angles changed slightly.” Setting the photo aside, Anna picked up the book and looked at the spine. “This is our imprint but I don’t remember seeing it. Natalie Smalls. Oh wait…N.T. Smalls? She’s the author listed on that file Becks was after—the one that didn’t make any sense.”
Gage nodded. “Now you can see why I headed to Williams Publishing.”
Disappointment lifted in Anna’s chest and tightened hard. “You didn’t come for the shoot.” The words came out flat. She tried to blink away the hurt. He hadn’t wanted to be a model for her—of course not, he was dealing with life and death here. She’d been…convenient. And now she was pushing her way into this when all he wanted to do was get her to step back and leave him alone.
Throat tight, she glanced at the burger in her hand. She put it back on the plate, wiped the congealed grease off her fingers.
Gage’s voice—low and rough—reached her. “Everyone just assumed I was there for the photo shoot, so I let them. I was looking for information on N.T. Smalls. And then all hell broke loose.”
All her old insecurities surged up, threatening to choke her. Her palms dampened and her throat dried. She’d been convenient. But she couldn’t really blame Gage for not making that clear. She’d chosen the fling. She’d stepped into it knowing he was the type of guy who didn’t stay around for long—she just didn’t expect…she’d thought it had been real.
Forcing a smile, she wet her lips and nodded. “I thought it was odd that a real Navy SEAL was there. But…I’ve never even heard of N.T. Smalls. Linda—my assistant—slipped me the last book, the file that guy wanted. It wasn’t even supposed to be scheduled for production.”
“Isn’t that weird?” Spencer asked. “I mean, you get a book and you’re not buying it?”
She shrugged, glad for a reason to look away from Gage’s intense stare. “Not really. We get some good books with flaws—some that are great but just not right for us. And some that Coran just wouldn’t buy no matter how much editorial or marketing begged. And some that Coran put into production even though everyone else thought they were losers.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Gage glanced from Kyle to Scotty. “Did you guys find out anything about that file?”
Scotty swapped a glance with Kyle and shook his head. “Just that list of names. Alice pulled out some personal descriptions and account numbers that aren’t bank accounts, but what the numbers mean, I don’t know.”
“Can I see the names?” Anna said. The guys all swapped looks. She was getting tired of being on the outside of their silent communication. Mouth pressed into a line, she thought about what Eloise would do. Standing, she crossed her arms.
“Okay, guys, listen up. I’m the one who was kidnapped, tossed in a trunk, threatened, and who did not have a good time yesterday. I’d like to know why my life has been trashed. There’s a good chance my job is in jeopardy—it certainly is if Coran is mixed up in something illegal or treasonous. And my new apartment’s been trashed and is no longer a place where I feel safe. After all that, you guys still want to make this a boy’s club adventure? Fine. I’ll be happy to head back to work and find out what I can to that end—on my own.”
Scotty grinned. Spencer’s eyebrows lifted high. Kyle sipped his coffee and stared at Gage. Gage shifted and waved a hand. “You think this is bad, you should see her mom. Might as well show her—she’s hip deep and won’t step out of the waders.”
Leaning over one of the laptops, Scotty pulled up a file. “Knock yourself out. I’ve been staring at it most of the night.”
Sitting down again, Anna scrolled through the names. “Five of the names on here…I think they’re authors, ones that are on Coran’s list for him to personally handle. I don’t recognize the accounts, but I can tell you they’re not part of the publishing firm’s accounting.”
Spencer’s eyebrows rose again. “You know all your firm’s account numbers.”
She nodded. “I’ve got a mind for numbers—they just stick. But I might be able to do something else. HR would have information on N.T. Smalls—on Natalie. They’ll have an address for her, and a social security number as well. I can also check these names with HR and see what I can pull up.”
Kyle started to smile, but Gage shook his head. “You’ve done enough, Anna.”
Scotty punched Gage’s arm. “Didn’t you just hear that boy’s club speech? Let the girl play if she wants to play.”
The pulse beat hard in Gage’s jaw. “This isn’t a damn game—or an exercise. People are getting killed. Anna could have been—” He bit off the word.
Anna stood again and faced Gage, her face hot and her breath so quick she was getting light headed. “Killed? Raped? Tortured? What? I get it that you came to me for information. So that’s what I’m offering you. Now I can dig it up for you, or I can get it for the police and I’ll be happy to pull them in on this. That is…if I still have a job. My bet is that no one’s heard from Coran yet. I don’t know why Becks is keeping Coran if that guy has the file he wanted, but maybe it’s as confusing to Becks as it is to us.”
Kyle lifted his mug. “My money is on Coran Williams not being what he seemed to the rest of the world.”
Anna tried not to keep watching Gage. He’d made it clear—he wanted her out of this. But she knew she could count on Kyle and Scotty to be on her side—they’d backed her so far. She wasn’t sure about Spencer, and she wasn’t sure how much of a democracy it would be in a group of Navy SEALs. Did they vote on things or just follow orders? Either way, she didn’t want to be pushed out of this. She was a Middleton—and Middletons didn’t run away. She tried another approach. “In a way, I owe you guys. You wasted a lot of time looking for me—”
“Anna,” Gage started, his voice rough.
She held up a hand. “I’m due in the office today. I’ll go in. HR will be dying to talk to me—they love to get all touchy-feely with employees. I don’t know what I can get—N.T. Small’s information might be totally bogus. But I’ll do what I can for you. I need to feel in charge of my life again—and I want to make sure the guy who grabbed me ends up behind bars. For a very long time. I won’t feel safe as long as he’s out there.”
Kyle nodded and glanced at the others. “We need to let Commander Brighton know what’s going on.”
“What if he has his orders? You gonna stake everything on him not following them and turning us in?” Kyle demanded.
“Already have,” Gage answered quietly.
“And how,” Spencer said. “But Kyle’s got a point. We need to put a few things in place to keep the commander safe, too. We need a safe meet, or at least a secure line to talk to him on.”
Shaking his head, Gage strode to the windows, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He stared out at treetops, turned back and shook his head. “I still want Anna out of this now. She’s been through enough.”
Anna spun on him. “Don’t you think that’s up to me to decide?” She walked over and punched Gage in the chest. “That guy—Becks. He said I was like him. Scarred. But he was wrong. I am nothing like him. And I’m going to show him you don’t mess with a Middleton! I am not going to hide. I am going to fight back. There’s one thing more to think about—there might not be just one file.”
“What?” Scotty sat up.
Anna waved at the computer. “Linda pulled that file from Coran’s computer—she ofte
n sent me books she thought I would like but which were never going to make it to publication. This one—I think Coran put it on my computer. And I’ve got a feeling he might have a backup somewhere else. Or, if he’s been doing whatever he had been doing, he’s got other files. Finding them means getting back into the office. I want to have a look at Linda’s computer—she may have stuff she doesn’t even know she snagged from Coran. But I know what to look for—I have the author names and I’ve seen that one file.”
The room went quiet. The guys were all staring at her—even Gage. She glanced around the room, and this time she forced herself to meet his stare. He didn’t look angry—he looked worried, with his forehead bunched.
He let out a breath. “Here’s the plan. We bring Brighton in on what’s going on. I’ll text him coordinates for neutral ground.” He turned his stare on Anna. “But you—I’m sticking to you like your shadow.”
She shivered. A small voice in the back of her head wondered what she was doing, getting mixed up in this, but she lifted her chin and managed a smile. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Chapter 18
Gage sat in his parked car and watched Anna walk into the offices of Coran Williams Publishing. He didn’t like this plan, but at least he didn’t have that tingling on the back of his neck telling him everything was about to head south.
Of course he hadn’t had that feeling the last time he’d been here, following up on N.T. Smalls—and then the place had been wrecked. At least Anna had a second burner phone on her now—one Scotty could track. She also had instructions not to push it too far, and Gage was due to show up in forty-five minutes, here to set up another photo shoot. He pushed out a breath. And Anna was now acting like they were done.
That shouldn’t bother him—but it did.
Women came and went in his life. But he’d always known that one day he’d find the woman that was it for him. His bad luck that it was Anna. How was she ever going to believe him now if he told her he cared about her? Cared—how about loved?
Yeah, he’d gone and done it, had fallen for her the instant he’d put eyes on her. The great sex was a bonus, but what he wanted was to put a ring on her finger and put her somewhere safe. Except she would hate that and wouldn’t stay. And why should she believe him?
On the way out of Scotty’s place, Scotty had pulled Gage aside and told him, “Dude, you know me and girls—and I’m telling you right now, you’re an idiot if you let this one go. Find a way to fix it or you’ll never stop regretting it.” Something had changed in Scotty’s eyes then—something that made Gage wonder if there was more to his womanizing than just a desire never to be caught.
He started to wonder if Scotty had been burned at some point—had let the right woman for him slip away. He hadn’t had time to think about it, and he didn’t want to think about it now. No…he had to find a way to let Anna know that what had happened between them was as real as it was fast.
The only good news in all of this is that Anna’s mother had seemed to like him—but was that really a point in his favor? Hell, maybe when this was over he should just show up and try dating Anna—but what if this never ended, or ended badly? He didn’t want to wait and he didn’t want to blow his chances here.
Thumping a palm on the steering-wheel, he let out a curse. He glanced at his watch. Great—forty minutes left. He wasn’t going to make it. He needed eyes on Anna—he needed her safe.
“You need to put your cards on the table and let her make up her mind,”—that had been Kyle’s parting advice. “Don’t miss things—I’ve done it and it’s not good.” Kyle had followed up the words with a hard look that said more about the ghosts Kyle was carrying than anything else. If Kyle could pull himself together after all he’d been through, of watching his brother go down like he had, Gage figured he could at least pay attention to the man’s words.
Only Spencer had kept his mouth shut, just giving Gage a look as he left with Anna, one eyebrow cocked as if he was daring Gage to try and make this work.
Hell, what did those three know about women? None of them were married. Scotty changed women faster than he changed his underwear. And Nick—the only of them who had been married seemed to have ended up with a possible spook for a wife. Gage rubbed the back of his neck. None of that was talking him out of Anna.
He kept thinking of how she’d looked, coming out of that house, battered, bruised and exhausted, but still able to find a smile. How she’d curled up in his arms, so damn trusting. How she looked when she came—her eyes bright as sapphires and her mouth slack and her skin hot to the touch. She was the full package—brains and beauty and sprit that would hold up to anything in SEAL training. Yeah, she’d have made a good SEAL, but did those qualities make her a good SEAL’s wife?
He wondered about that. How would she deal with the separation when he was on a mission? With him not being able to talk about the classified shit that went down? Would it put space between them? Would she take it as rejection of her? All of that meant he really should leave this where it was. Except he didn’t want to.
He wanted Anna back in his bed, back in his arms, and where he could keep her safe.
But the truth was that none of them were safe. It was possible he might end up booted from the SEALs—or he might end up behind bars for Nick’s murder. That would not be good for Anna. He had to face the worst of it because that’s what you did. Becks had the file, whoever had shot Nick was still out there, and the team was still under suspicion. And Anna thought Gage had used her.
He glanced at his watch. Another minute had crawled by. He was not going to make it—but he had to. He had to at least show Anna that he trusted her. Then he could work on maybe getting her to trust him again.
***
Security had improved. Anna had to stop at the front desk, show photo ID, and pick up a new company badge before she could head to her cubicle. She’d set up an appointment with HR for ten-thirty, and since Coran had been her boss, she didn’t have a boss breathing down her neck and wondering where she was. She did have marketing and editorial dropping by and emailing and calling to ask where the photos were that they needed.
She got the hottest demands off her desk, emailed files, and headed over to ask where Linda’s office had been relocated. Linda still wasn’t back. Anna arranged for flowers to be sent to Linda—and Marcella as well. Linda was due back in the office tomorrow, but Marcella apparently was taking another week at the spa and demanding that the company pay for her stress-related relief. Or that was the gossip in the coffee room.
Slipping over to Linda’s computer—thankfully, Linda had been set up in the cubicle next to Anna, one even smaller than Anna’s ten by ten space—Anna logged in. She’d had Linda’s login forever, just as Linda had hers. One of the editors stopped by to demand a cover, and Anna smiled and said, “Just trying to find it now. Linda had the final files.”
The editor nodded, said she needed them yesterday, and Anna got back to work.
She found one other file on Linda’s computer—another book by N.T. Smalls with more bad writing that made no sense.
It was folly to think of Nick and what might happen, but how could I forget March of 1972 when were last with Harry. The spring winds weren’t kind that April or May, and we shivered and thought of happier days in Laos.
Okay, if that wasn’t code, Anna didn’t know what was. She copied the file to a flash drive—along with the cover editorial needed—and headed back to her own cubicle. She sent the cover to the editor who’d wanted it and pocketed the flash drive.
Glancing at her watch, she saw it was time to head to HR. Gage would be in soon to set up his photo shoot—which would never really happen—and he’d want to see how she’d done. She was going to prove to him she was not just a convenience. Dammit, she wanted to rub his face in that fact.
Just to be safe, she changed her login before she shut down her computer, and then headed to HR.
They’d been stuffed into offices next to ac
counting. That gave Anna an excuse to stop by and ask about N.T. Smalls. She went to Beverly—a friend she had who usually handled payments for models used.
“Hey, Bev, are we doing a cover for N.T. Smalls?”
Beverly looked up and blinked. She was on the downside of fifty, but she still dyed her hair and tried to look younger. Anna knew why. They’d gone out for drinks once and Beverly confessed she was terrified of being fired—for being too old. She dressed hip and young—loose tops in black with black trousers. She also kept her black hair short and her makeup perfect. She glanced up now and asked, “Who?”
Anna gave the name again. “One of Coran’s authors—you know. Linda gave me a new book, but I can’t tell if it’s headed out for publishing. Can you see if there’s a contract—or, hell, even a way to contact the author?”
Beverly nodded. “I know. It’s nuts around here with him gone—we’re all trying to figure out what deals he had pending.”
