Silken Threats

by Addison Fox

  “It was always tense, especially after they got married. He was a little off when they were dating but I was in college and dealing with my own stuff and hated how my family didn’t like my work, so I had tuned out for a few years. And then boom, they’re married and I’m seeing them for family events and I realize my brother-in-law is a jerk.”

  “Of the first order. But she loved him, right?”

  “I always thought so. In fact, there were times I envied her, being so in love with someone and so crazy about him. But now that I think back on it—” Cassidy broke off, a memory of their Christmas before Leah died filling her mind’s eye.

  They were at Christmas Eve dinner, all play-acting at the sweet happy family routine when a loud crash had come from the kitchen. The swinging door had been closed but the yelling had been more than evident.

  “Now what?”

  “Just something I remembered.” She filled Lilah in on the long-forgotten fight. “It got so loud Robert finally went in to calm things down. Leah had burned herself getting a pan of lasagna out of the oven and Charlie had gone after her about it when she dropped it.”

  “Jerk.”

  “Yeah.” Lilah nodded, her anxious feelings from that long-ago night resettling themselves in her stomach. “He was. Still is, I’m sure. I just don’t have to see him anymore.”

  “What did happen to him?”

  “Last I heard he was bumming around in between jobs. He hasn’t worked steadily since she died.”

  “That’s a long time to grieve.” Lilah looked up from her careful work. “A long time.”

  “Probably his latest way to excuse himself and gain some sympathy in the process. The loss of my young wife and all that.”

  “You sure don’t have any lingering feelings there.”

  “None.” Cassidy shook her head, trying to shake off the memories. “And there’s something awfully sad about that.”

  * * *

  The man they called the Duke was reclined out by an Olympic-size pool behind one of the largest homes in one of Dallas’s most exclusive neighborhoods. Charlie took in the lush green lawn—an anomaly this time of year when the summer heat was at its zenith—and admired what the man had.

  When he pictured his future, he envisioned himself in something similar, his every whim satisfied the moment he had them.

  Something burned low in his gut to think this man had access to the very thing he wanted. The very thing he’d worked so hard on his own to have.

  He’d masterminded this plot. So why was he now stuck bowing and scraping because the man had a bug up his bum about his stupid, inept henchmen?

  “Take a seat, Mr. McCallum.”

  Alex sat in the last seat on the patio, a fresh bruise on his eye that hadn’t been there last night when Charlie had driven him home. Alex’s usual partner in crime, a bruiser of a guy named Trey, had moved up and now flanked Charlie’s side.

  “You got a problem?”

  “Take a seat and see that I don’t.” Trey never cracked a smile, and Charlie felt the first stirring of panic swirl low in his stomach, replacing the ocean of envy that had opened up upon his arrival.

  “It’s cool.” He took the indicated seat and was greeted by the Duke’s chilling stare. It was freaky, since the guy hadn’t removed his sunglasses, but Charlie felt the stare keenly despite not being able to see the guy’s eyes.

  “Your intel’s been something of a disappointment, Mr. McCallum.”

  “How’s that?”

  The Duke smiled, his pale skin a creepy contrast to the dark color of his goatee. His whiskers were as black as midnight, the contrast so stark it made you want to stare. In fact, it made him wonder why the guy even kept a beard it made him look so damn weird.

  As his former mother-in-law would have said, there’s no accounting for taste.

  Charlie dragged his gaze away and focused on the matter at hand. What the hell did he care about the guy’s grooming choices anyway?

  “First you suggest you will be able to find the exact location of the item inside the bridal store. However, you got a late start, then bumbled and fumbled so long daylight came.”

  “But—”

  The Duke held up his hand. “I’m not finished. You then suggested the girls were busy digging up the hole themselves, and when Alex and Trey returned to the location, they were met with policemen patrolling the neighborhood and no evidence of anything amiss through the windows.”

  “I never said they were alone. In fact, I specified—”

  “Enough, Mr. McCallum.”

  The words were low—so low he had to lean forward to hear—and that was all it took.

  The Duke struck, his seemingly lazy pose on the lounge chair all for show. The man moved so fast, Charlie had no time to react, and before he knew it the slender man had him facedown on the pool patio, his cheek scraped against concrete.

  “You then allow Alex to nearly get made by your former sister-in-law in her front yard. A woman you assured me repeatedly was a docile sort of miss.”

  “She’s a coward.” Charlie heaved and bucked backward but the man’s grip was relentless. “She sits in her damn shop and sews all day. How was I supposed to know she’d start screwing the neighbor?”

  “I’ve already punished Alex and he’s been appropriately sorry for his actions.”

  Charlie felt the weight lessen slightly and shifted. It was only as he turned onto his back, his arm banging into the deck chair he’d been sitting on, that he registered the gun pointed in his face.

  Where the hell had that come from?

  The survivor’s instinct he’d honed since birth reared up. There was no way he was going down for this. No way was he taking the fall. This was his op. His...

  The shock of pain was immense as it hit his throat. Immediately, air whooshed from him in a great, gurgling gasp.

  On swift feet, the Duke stood. His bare chest had a large spatter of blood and he wiped it away with a white towel.

  Charlie wondered at the strange thoughts that moved through his mind. Such a white towel, now ruined with streaks of red. Bright red on a body of such pale white. Red blood...his blood...

  His head lolled back onto the patio and it was only when the Duke snapped out an order that he was aware of another figure. The man came to stand next to the Duke, his looming form blocking out the late-afternoon sun.

  Was it Trey again? Maybe Alex? Maybe—

  Charlie squinted, desperate to focus on the face he saw, and choked on the blood that filled his throat. And even as he tried to make out the one word that echoed in his mind, nothing but a loud gurgle spilled from his lips.

  Robert.

  Chapter 13

  Tucker swiped his hands over a rag and muttered under his breath. First the bridal fittings, full of endless gossip that made his eyes want to cross, and now an hour digging in the dirt like he was ten.

  “You mind telling me why we’re doing this now?”

  Max had already filled him in on the blueprints he’d reviewed earlier before he’d shifted to digging out a bed of dirt around the front of Elegance and Lace. The two of them had been methodically filling in a combination of bushes and perennials since Tucker had walked outside.

  At least there was beer.

  “Keeps us busy. Gives us a reason to keep watch.” Max hefted a thick shovelful of mulch from a nearby wheelbarrow—where the hell had he gotten that?—and tossed it underneath the compact cherry laurel Tucker had just centered and secured with compacted dirt. “And it doesn’t look suspicious that we’re spending so much time here to anyone watching.”

  As excuses went it was a fair one but it still didn’t change the fact it was a billion freaking degrees out with shade nowhere to be found.

  “Next time I’m knocking dow
n walls and demoing a site you’re coming with me.”

  Max grinned, his smile carefree as he cracked open a fresh beer. “That’s hardly a threat, Buck. You know I love to knock stuff down. Remember that dam we demolished our first year in the Corps?”

  Since his thoughts had been traveling similar paths, Tucker gave himself a moment to sit back on his heels and take a large swallow of his own beer. “I remember. That was a fun op. Made even better, as I recall, was when you were nearly called on to marry a villager’s daughter.”

  “She came after me, man.”

  “And then proceeded to strip naked in front of you.”

  “I was taking a shower and she snuck in. I never touched her. I swear.”

  “An excuse that fell on her father’s very deaf ears.”

  The memory had them both laughing now, although Max hadn’t found it quite so humorous at the time. But the situation had righted itself, especially once a video feed ended up corroborating Max’s claims of innocence.

  Tucker’s thoughts drifted from that poor village girl with little prospects and an American soldier she thought could take her away from it all to the women who ran Elegance and Lace.

  Here were three women who had opportunity in abundance and they were taking the utmost advantage of their fortunate position. In the short time he’d known them, he’d seen each of them work hard—had observed their diligence and focus—and admired the heck out of them for it.

  “You hear from your grandfather?”

  “I tried him a few times. Got a text back that he’d call me later.”

  Tucker wiped the sweat from his eyes as he stared at his friend. “You buying it?”

  “Nah, but I’m giving him his space. From that letter you described, sounds like we’ve got enough to confront him and Jo later.”

  They were interrupted by a slow-moving car that bore the city seal and pulled up beside them. “Are you the current residents of this property?”

  “No, ma’am.” Tucker put his best Southern-boy imitation on display and hoped it worked on the severely dressed woman in the small white car.

  “Are the current renters inside?”

  “Yes.” Tucker dropped the aw-shucks routine. “What do you need?”

  “I need to speak with them.”

  The woman pulled up and found a spot next to the beater of a truck Max used to go out to construction sites and stepped from the car. Her only nod to the heat was a pair of open-toed sandals. When she made no move to wait for them, Tucker dropped his shovel and followed her inside.

  “What is this about, Miss—”

  Tucker let the word hang and waited for her to offer up her name. When she didn’t respond he revised his initial opinion of how to approach the salty woman who seemed impervious to heat.

  She also seemed impervious to charm or politeness of any sort.

  “I repeat my earlier question. Are you the renter of this business?”

  “No.”

  “Then what I’m doing here is none of your business.”

  Tucker caught Max’s raised eyebrows and hard cough that did nothing to cover his friend’s outburst of laughter.

  Cassidy walked out from the back entrance to Lilah’s kitchen, her friend on her heels. “What’s going on?”

  “City has something they want to discuss with you.”

  “We had a health inspection two weeks ago.” Lilah piped up from behind, her dark voice leaving no doubt about what she thought of a surprise visit.

  “I’m not from the Board of Health.”

  The woman repeated her request to speak to the business owners, and when Cassidy and Lilah confirmed their rights, she launched in.

  “Was this building renovated upon your move in?”

  “This portion of the building was left mostly intact.” Cassidy gestured toward Lilah before pointing toward the back of the building. “We did extensive remodeling of the kitchen.”

  “The kitchen doesn’t meet current fire-code requirements.”

  “Of course it does,” Lilah snapped, her usual congeniality nowhere in evidence. “I saw the plans myself.”

  “Can you produce those plans?”

  Cassidy and Violet stared at each other before both spoke at once.

  “Our business partner manages those pieces—”

  “She’ll be back shortly—”

  Tucker stepped forward. “What’s this about?”

  “Violation of fire codes is cause for removal from the premises.” The woman dragged some forms from a slim folder. “You have one hour to vacate the premises.”

  “This is absurd. We’re not going anywhere.” Lilah moved another step closer, her stance as battle worthy as any general’s Tucker had ever seen.

  Cassidy’s phone rang, the sound interrupting the fight that was clearly brewing between Lilah and the Queen of Fire Codes.

  “Mrs. Beauregard. Hello.” The unmistakable sound of relief filled Cassidy’s voice before she turned away to take the call. Attuned to her, Tucker heard the moment her voice dropped, growing darker as the conversation continued. He couldn’t hear all that was said, but knew she wasn’t happy.

  “That was Mrs. B.” Cassidy shoved her phone in her back pocket a few moments later. “She apologized but said that we need to leave for a few days.”

  * * *

  “Laxatives in their cupcakes. That’ll do it. One per city council member. Oh. And a dozen for the fire chief.” Lilah’s rantings had grown increasingly inventive since they’d headed to Dragon Designs for pizza, wine and complaints.

  “That’s gross.” Violet huffed out her distaste as she reached for her third piece of pizza.

  Violet’s usual subsistence of raw vegetables, whole grains and high fiber meant pizza was usually off the table and she normally took only one piece when they ordered it in, if any. But when Max handed her another beer—her second—Cassidy couldn’t hold her tongue. “You like beer? Since when?”

  “Since I was kicked out of my business like some vagrant squatter.”

  “So what did Mrs. B. say again?”

  Cassidy had been over it too many times to count in the past few hours but she walked through it again. Her landlady’s flat voice, simple instructions and admonition that they needed to leave quickly.

  Lilah was philosophical as she dipped her pizza crust in ranch dressing. “At least she said she’d pay for the inconvenience.”

  “Why?” Tucker had been unusually quiet since he’d arrived back at the office from picking up Bailey and his question jarred all of them.

  “Because she’s good to us and knows it’s her fault?” Lilah shrugged. “I mean, I like Mrs. B. and all, but it’s her building.”

  “But they’re your renovations. You’re responsible for meeting code along with the contractor you hire.”

  “Why didn’t you say this before, Tucker?” Violet wiped her mouth with her napkin. “We could have saved a heck of a lot of time dragging stuff in and out of the shop.”

  “You’re out because someone wants you out,” Tucker said.

  Violet nodded, which was complemented by a light twitch of her lips. “And it was easier to leave and pretend like we were following orders so we can go back on our own terms.”

  “Go back?” Cassidy didn’t miss the glances between Violet and Lilah and gestured them both with her head into a small kitchen alcove for more soda. She waited until the three of them were alone before she spoke. “Care to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Um, well...” Lilah brushed her bright pink streak back behind her ear.

  “We did a little more work on the floor this afternoon.” Ever the voice of reason, Violet filled her in quickly. “When Max was outside.”

  “It wasn’t hard. We sort of did a Shawshank on it
with some of the smaller tools.” Lilah gestured toward the men. “They’d already done the tough stuff and we just did a bit of fine tuning.”

  “What’d you do with the mess? And how’d you cover the hole?” Cassidy knew her friends were always up for the unexpected, but this was big even for them.

  “I tapped away while Vi kept up with the hand vac. That thing’s better than we realized.” Lilah hurried on when Cassidy waved a hand. “And then we stuffed it with some of your material.”

  “Not the silk.” Violet jumped in quickly. “I used some of the tulle that was in the garbage that you had to throw away because it was damaged.”

  As she listened to their tale, Cassidy had to admit to being a bit jealous to have missed the fun. “Why not just pull up what was under there?”

  “Because it’s still stuck in there. We needed the guys to help us get it out and then I got the call to head over to help out my own bridezilla today.”

  Cassidy processed Violet’s words. “You didn’t see anything at all?”

  “Just a thick black box.”

  “Which we’ve just made a hell of a lot more accessible to anyone who breaks in.”

  * * *

  “She had to pick pink.” Tucker muttered the words as Lilah’s van turned off the far end of Dragon Street.

  “It’s her signature.” Cassidy pulled at the neck of the long-sleeved black T-shirt that covered her to her knees. Whatever else this evening brought, she had a new appreciation for those who ran special ops. Even her clothing had been decided upon before they left Dragon Designs.

  “That van’s like a flashing neon sign.”

  “We talked her out of the neon, actually.”

  “You’re making jokes?” Tucker turned toward her, his dark eyes wide.

  “I’m nervous. And it’s true,” she muttered.

  She knew Tucker was still mad at her for her insistence on coming and the urgency surrounding the retrieval of the box was her only saving grace. If Tucker’s assessment was correct, whoever had them removed from the premises under the guise of code violations was going to make their move tonight. Which meant they had to act fast and had to do it with minimal risk.