by Addison Fox
Whatever fumbling had gotten her to this point morphed into something else entirely as she alluded to the doctor.
“Yes, I believe you mentioned the doctor already.”
Violet had suggested for years Cassidy was unable to see the forest for the trees.
She’d also suggested—on numerous occasions—that Cassidy wouldn’t know a man who was interested in her if he walked up and gave her a love bite.
If only she’d spent more time listening to Vi and less living inside her own head. “Of...of course.”
“And maybe if he focused on caring for his patients instead of giving you puppy-dog eyes, your landlady might be getting out of here right now.”
“She’s getting excellent care!”
The elevator pinged as the car came to a stop, and she snapped her jaw shut. Whatever idiotic direction their conversation had taken, it wasn’t anyone else’s business.
The elevators slid open and two men stood across the hall, both dressed in dark suits, their gazes sharp as they stared into the elevator.
A subtle shiver at odds with the comfortable temperature in the hospital gripped her, and Cassidy had the strangest urge to shrink into her skin. Before she could say another word or make room for the new additions, Tucker had his hand on the door, pointing toward them. “You want in?”
One of the guys shook his head and uttered a hard “no” before he and his friend hotfooted it down the hall. They moved out of view, and Cassidy was surprised to see Tucker surge forward.
“What is it?”
“Something I don’t like. Stay in there.”
“What?” He was already into the hall when she pressed on the sliding doors and squeezed through into the hall. “What’s going on?”
“Damn it, Cassidy.”
Before he could say anything further the men took off at a heavy clip, running along the long corridor. Tucker’s shouted request for them to stop had no effect, and he took off after them, his long runner’s strides eating up ground as he moved.
Without thinking twice, Cassidy took off behind him.
* * *
Tucker heard the staccato clip of her heels as she ran behind him but he ignored it. A nurse shouted, and as Cassidy’s footfalls faded he figured she’d been slowed by the staff.
Good.
He’d rather she stayed in their grasp and far away from whatever problem was currently running in the opposite direction. Hell, let her go cozy up to that damned doctor with the perfect teeth if it kept her out of trouble.
Ignoring another round of shouts from the hospital staff, he hit the stairwell door before it fully closed, following his quarry.
The tops of their heads faded from view as they rounded the squared-off stairwell, and Tucker heard the heavy thrum of feet as they booked it toward the ground-floor door.
He shouted again for them to stop but they never even slowed. The first guy blew through the ground-floor door, followed by his partner. Bright light lit up the space before going dark once more, and Tucker knew the second guy had slammed hard on the door when it stuck tightly closed, the doorjamb clicking into place as his hands hit the thick metal.
Pressing on the release bar, he barreled through the heavy metal. The two men moved on swift feet through the lobby, picking up speed as they caught sight of him once more. Tucker ducked around a slow-moving patient with a walker, frustrated as he pivoted around the older woman, who skewered him with her gaze.
An order to stop lit up the serenity of the lobby and Tucker felt a hard fist wrap around his wrist before turning to face a security guard with considerable girth to match his meaty hands.
“Where’s the fire, son?”
“I need—”
The man cut him off, before exerting subtle pressure to pull them both away from watchful eyes. “You need to slow down.”
Although he’d never got off on intimidating others, Tucker moved up in the man’s grill, his own height adding a measure to his message, even though his opponent outweighed him by a good hundred pounds. “I suggest you let me go.”
The man dropped his arm and took several deliberate steps back. Whether the good ole boy was surprised by the fight or saw the obvious seriousness in his eyes Tucker didn’t know, and he didn’t care. What he did know was that two men who took off like that in the middle of a hospital were there to cause trouble.
He took off the moment that ham-fisted grip slackened and sprinted toward the hospital entryway.
And saw a nondescript black sedan lead-footing it out of the parking lot, the smell of hot asphalt and burning rubber hovering in their wake.
“What was that about?” Max’s voice hit his ear, breaking up the lingering shriek of tires.
“I have no idea.” He turned toward his friend, Max’s face set in grim lines.
“What the hell are you doing running through the hospital?”
“Those two guys were on Mrs. B.’s floor. They just seemed shady and when I spoke to them, they got shadier.”
He ran through the quick interaction from the elevator, his instincts humming with the knowledge something was off.
Without warning, a memory of the missions they used to run in the Corps filled his mind’s eye. Recon, advance planning and any number of operations designed to weaken the defenses of known enemies.
As Tucker and Max well knew, the ability to understand a structure’s weak points made it exceedingly easy to blow up.
Sort of like the current situation they found themselves in.
Blown to bits and looking a hell of a lot more dangerous than they could have ever imagined.
Chapter 6
Cassidy stood at the door to Mrs. Beauregard’s room, pleased to see her still sleeping peacefully. The excitement from the elevator had faded over the past hour, but she knew Tucker’s chase through the hospital had frayed what was left of all their nerves. Although Tucker had promised repeatedly that the police were keeping a watchful eye on her landlady, Cassidy couldn’t shake the lingering sense of unease.
Nor could she shake the litany of questions whose answers remained elusive no matter how many times she turned them over in her mind.
What was their landlady hiding? Who could possibly have a vendetta against the woman, especially now, as she approached eighty? And what were they after?
Violet stepped off the elevator, several cups of coffee in her hands, and gestured toward the visitor lounge with her head. With one last glance at Mrs. B., Cassidy moved down the hall toward her friend.
“Lilah’s not coming?” Cassidy took one of the coffee cups from the holder, the heat seeping through the thin paper warming her ice-cold hands.
Violet passed over several packets of sugar, that sweet reminder of how well her friend knew her going a long way toward calming Cassidy’s nerves. “She’s finishing up the delivery on that eightieth birthday cake she was working on earlier. I told her to text when she left the restaurant where she’s dropping it off and we could either have her swing by here or come back and meet us at the office.”
Cassidy nodded as she doctored her coffee, the mundane action doing little to calm her nerves as she watched the large men pacing a rut in the floor, before each stopped in turn to pick up their cups. It didn’t escape her notice that Max repositioned himself at the glass doorway to the lounge, his line of sight clear to Mrs. B.’s room, as he sipped his coffee.
The move struck her for what it was—protection detail—and the streak of fear she’d tried to fight skittered up her spine.
What had they suddenly fallen into? And what had Mrs. Beauregard gotten herself mixed up with?
Again, more questions, round and round like an out-of-control roller coaster. Because whatever the problem was, her sweet, doddering landlady was smack in the middle of it.
The room was empty except for the four of them and with one last glance at the closed doors, Violet launched in, her tone all business. “So what are we dealing with here?”
Max stopped midpace and turned the full attention of his bright blue gaze on Violet, then Cassidy in turn. “You tell us.”
Violet kept her tone level but Cassidy didn’t miss the heat that threaded underneath the steel. “We know as much as you do. Before yesterday morning we ran a quiet business and kept to ourselves. Now we’re convinced our landlady is hiding secrets and my partner’s been cleaning up thousands of dollars’ worth of damage to her work.”
“What Captain Subtlety over here is telling you is that we have no better idea than you do.” Tucker took a seat at a chair opposite the couch, the move a clear indication of his willingness to partner on the problem. “And it pisses us off.”
“What I can’t understand is what’s prompted this.” Cassidy took a sip of her coffee, willing the fear to subside so she could focus on the facts. “Until I walked up to the shop yesterday morning and found it broken into, there hasn’t been a single problem. No strange phone calls. No strangers in off the street. Nothing.”
Max took the seat opposite Tucker, his tone noticeably calmer when he spoke. “Same for you, Violet?”
She nodded before adding, “Lilah, as well. We spoke about it earlier and she said nothing seems out of the ordinary or abnormal. We’ve all just been working our tails off to build our reputation and take Elegance and Lace to the next level.”
“What about the men Tucker chased? What made him go after them?”
Even as Cassidy asked the question, she knew what the answer would be. The men were suspicious and immediately aware of her and Tucker the moment the elevator doors swung open.
Cassidy still saw the men in her mind, the memory of their dark gazes and watchful eyes sending another lance of fear skittering up and down her back.
“I didn’t like the look of them.” Tucker shrugged, but Cassidy sensed the move was more forced than casual. “Nothing more, nothing less. But when I asked them to stop and they kept on going something popped.”
“They peeled out of the parking lot like they had hellhounds on their tails,” Max added before two-pointing his coffee cup into a nearby wastebasket.
“I assumed muggers broke in yesterday but the suit-and-tie routine fits.” Cassidy thought about the mystery of the alarm code and realized it fit a lot better than some thug looking for a quick score.
“How so?” Max spoke first, but his and Tucker’s gazes were both sharp.
“The alarm never registered yesterday.”
Cassidy saw the moment speculation turned to something else as Max’s gaze collided with Tucker’s. “You left that bit out, Buck.”
“I’ve had a few things on my mind.”
Cassidy caught Vi’s unspoken message from the corner of her eye as they watched the two men circle around the issue. Violet spoke first. “Is there a problem, Mr. Baldwin?”
“You tell me, Miss Richardson.” Max’s disdain was evident even without the curled lip that preceded his words. “Why the hell didn’t any of you mention we were looking at an inside job?”
“Because we’re not.” Cassidy settled her cup on the small, scarred coffee table at her knee.
“And what makes you so sure?” Max moved from his position at the door to stand beside Tucker. The simple move into alignment was a more effective reminder of these men’s backgrounds than any dossier ever could be.
They had each other’s backs.
Which made it that much more interesting, Cassidy noted, to see Tucker shift, ready to lay a hand on Max if the man moved another inch.
Whatever fear she might feel, the sight of these two protectors went a long way toward calming her nerves, and her tone was firm when she finally spoke. “Three people have that code. Lilah. Violet. Me. No one else.”
“And in three years none of you have ever given it out?”
“No.”
“No.”
“Hell, no.” Lilah’s voice echoed from the doorway.
* * *
Tucker watched as Cassidy and Violet moved into position next to their friend. Warrior women, the two of them, protecting their third.
He might not know any of them well but he knew that stance. And he knew its underlying meaning.
Support.
Unconditional and absolutely unwavering.
“That’s awfully unusual for a business that presumably has contractors coming in and out of it.” Max took up the charge first, his alpha-dog tendencies obviously getting the best of him.
“That’s how we run our business. We agreed before we even opened our doors, and it’s an agreement we take seriously.” Cassidy’s graceful stance and calm voice brooked no arguments.
“And the contractors?” Max pressed, his focus drifting from the door.
“Contractors are scheduled so one of us is always there.” Violet reinforced Cassidy’s statement, even as Lilah remained silent.
Tucker assessed them once more. Knew his friend did the same.
Something was there. A darkness that was suddenly more than evident beneath the merry streak of pink that highlighted Lilah Castle’s bright blond hair.
Were they dealing with a domestic issue?
Anger curled low in his gut at the thought. He’d executed his share of violence—he’d known it was an element of his commitment to his country and he’d done it willingly—but nothing excused a man who raised his fists to women.
Brushing it off to reconsider later, Tucker assessed each woman in turn. They were enticing, he’d give them that. Three gorgeous, hardworking women with a whole heap of trouble following them. It made a man reach inside himself and question the code he lived by.
He didn’t leave a man behind.
He helped old ladies cross the street.
And he wouldn’t let a woman who needed him go without his assistance.
None of it changed the fact that they had no idea what they were dealing with or why.
An image of their landlady lying in her hospital bed, her smile lighting up when Cassidy walked in, popped into his thoughts. Along with it, a question that had flirted through his mind since discovering Mrs. B. the day before on her kitchen floor.
“Let’s take the alarm issue off the table for a minute. What connection do you have to Mrs. Beauregard besides the store?”
“Like I mentioned yesterday, she’s a family friend.” Cassidy spoke first. “My mother grew up knowing her, and she’s always been a part of my life.”
Max pounced. “If you know her, you’ve got to have an idea of what she might be hiding.”
“Why do you assume she’s hiding anything?” Violet took a step forward and despite the sleek navy suit she wore with sky-high pumps, Tucker saw the telling signs of protection in her fisted hands and arrow-straight stance.
“Why would you be naive enough to think she isn’t?”
Cassidy laid her hand on Violet’s arm. Tension settled over all of them, thick as the summer heat, before Lilah’s smile broke the moment. “I say we go find out who’s right before one of them whips something out.”
“Lilah!” A delightful blush pinked up Cassidy’s cheeks. “Seriously?”
“Oh, lose that appalled face, Junior League. You know you were thinking the same.”
“That’s low.” Despite their recent solidarity, Tucker was amused to see the Junior League comment stuck in Cassidy’s craw. He made a note to file it away next time she jumped on her high horse with him suggesting she didn’t need his help.
Before he could say anything, Lilah pushed on her friends once more. “Low, but effective. Come on. Let’s have another go at that floor and figure out what’s really going on.”
* * *
Tucker considered the events at the hospital as he drove back toward the shop. They had left once the dinner hour began, requesting the hospital staff keep a sharp eye for anyone out of place. Satisfied they’d done what they could for Mrs. Beauregard, Tucker focused his thoughts on the mystery surrounding Elegance and Lace.
But he couldn’t stop thinking about the two men in suits who’d given chase.
He’d seen them in the lobby when he and Max had walked into the hospital and something about them had bugged him at the time. But the very clear realization in their eyes when they spotted Cassidy through the open elevator doors had pushed him from wary suspicion straight into action.
Time in the Corps, moving all over the world, had given him a strong appreciation for the value of trusting his gut and it had jingled loud and clear from the elevator.
Of course, none of it changed the fact he’d nearly missed all of it fantasizing about Cassidy Tate’s mouth. Or, more specifically, an image of having her in his arms, her back against the wall of the elevator, their mouths fused in a rush of heat and need and pent-up longing that took his breath away.
All while effectively removing any and all thoughts of a certain doctor.
Damn it.
His flight of fancy had nearly put her in danger. Between unwarranted jealousy over the damned physician and the actual threat of the two anonymous suits, he’d almost let her down.
Get out of your head, Buchanan. It leads to nothing good or productive.
The admonishment was a sore reminder of memories better left forgotten and he cursed himself once more as he swung down Riverfront toward her office.
He’d help her and then leave her the hell alone. His track record with personal relationships was already abominable and she deserved something better.
Like some damned toothy doctor with a tiny little...personality.
