Mace: Lighthouse Security & Investigations

by Maryann Jordan

  He watched her lower her eyes and ordered, “Oh, no. You can’t say that to me and then look away.”

  She rolled her eyes, then admitted, “I’m sure it sounds stupid, but sometimes when I look at you, I can’t believe you’re real.” Seeing his surprised face, she added, “You’re larger-than-life, Mace. Gorgeous, strong, everything I would think a hero would be.”

  He dipped his head so that he could stare into her eyes. “I’m no hero, Sylvie. I’m just a man.”

  “Not to me. To me, you’re a hero. You’re my hero.”

  His face gentled as he observed her staring so intently into his eyes. Closing the slight space between them, he kissed her lips, reveling in the soft, satin feel and her delectable taste. Reluctantly pulling away, he said, “If anyone here is gorgeous, it’s you.”

  Just then, a shout from the water caught their attention. “Hey, Mom! Mr. Hanover!”

  They turned in unison and observed a jubilant David waving in their direction. They laughed and waved back, but Sylvie said, “Oh, Lord, I hope he doesn’t try to stand up.” She felt Mace’s chest rumble as he chuckled.

  “Stop worrying, babe. He’ll be fine.”

  She twisted her head to look up at him again, and asked, “Is it crazy to think that he’s safer on a little boat in the ocean than he is in our own home?”

  Mace sobered, reaching up to cup her cheek again, knowing how much she worried about her son. “I won’t let anything happen to you, or to him.”

  She sucked in a deep breath and smiled, offering a slight nod. With a last glance at the boat, now coming toward shore, she said, “Marge brought stew and buttered soda bread. I told her that I could cook, but she just told me that I needed to take things easy.”

  “She’s used to doing things her way…best to just let her.”

  Laughing, she asked, “Interested in some lunch?”

  “You know the way to my heart,” he laughed.

  As they walked into the house together, Sylvie could not help but wonder if his heart was already as involved as hers.

  Lunch, as always, turned into a time of good food, fellowship, and laughter. David, well behaved, was still a typical little boy and his antics kept them in stitches while his questions kept Mace and Horace on their toes.

  Marge could not hold back her grin as she watched Mace interact with both Sylvie and David. As the meal finished, Mace announced that he needed to get back to work. Ruffling David’s head with promises to come back early that evening, he bent toward Sylvie, placing a quick kiss on her lips. Jerking, he suddenly realized the act of endearment had come so easily to him, but was the first time he had made such a move in front of anyone else. Staring at her shock-widened eyes, he blinked. For a man who prided himself on his control and quick thinking, he had no clue what to do.

  Sylvie’s eyes jumped first to David’s face, seeing him nonplussed and smiling. A quick glance around the table gave evidence that Marge and Horace were equally pleased.

  Mace, deciding to not make a big deal of his gaffe, shot her a wink before standing and saying, “I’ll see you later.”

  She watched him amble out of the house and, for a second, wanted to disappear along with him. Unable to do that, she turned and faced the trio still at the table. Horace and Marge stood, clearing off the plates and moving into the kitchen, leaving her alone with David.

  “Sweetheart, what you saw, was… well, it was… I suppose, that you could say—”

  “Mom,” David grinned. “It’s okay with me if you and Mr. Hanover like each other. I think he’s great. He’s big and strong and he’s nice to you. Not like…”

  Her breath caught in her throat as his voice trailed off. She realized all the years of trying to shield David from Ed’s bitterness and threats had not worked. While she had managed to keep Ed out of their lives, for the most part, his visits for money and threats to take David away had been witnessed.

  “He’s a great coach. And, I think he’d make a great dad,” David added, his face turned up toward hers, hope burning in his eyes.

  “Oh, honey. Mr. Hanover and I are not anything like that right now.”

  Grinning, he laughed. “I know how it works, Mom. You’re just dating right now.” He jumped up from the table, grabbing his plate to take it into the kitchen, and said, “It’s okay, you know. I’m just letting you know that if anything does happen between you two, it’s okay with me.” He trotted off into the kitchen, leaving her sitting by herself.

  Blowing out her breath, she shook her head at the intuitiveness of her son and, with thoughts of both he and Mace filling her mind, a slow smile curved her lips.

  Mace slipped through the dark halls, his night vision goggles easily giving him the sight necessary to make his way stealthily toward the office. Behind him, Bray followed, just as easily. Neither of them spoke as they made their way into the office of Doug Smiteson in the Crossover Building Company’s headquarters.

  Bray immediately headed to the computer on Doug’s desk. Opening the laptop, using the information sent to him by Josh back at the compound, he had no trouble getting into Doug’s files. Within a few minutes, he was able to send back to Josh the complete contents of everything on the computer. With a little more work, Josh would have been able to obtain that himself, but Mace liked the old-fashioned reconnaissance that came from being inside someone’s space.

  He moved to the filing cabinet and pulled out all the paper records on the building where Charles Jefferson had been attacked. Digitally scanning them, he placed them back as he found them. Walking past the credenza behind Bray, he perused several photographs. One appeared to be Doug’s family, with a wife and two boys but, more interesting, were two other framed pictures. One showed a group of men, some in business suits and some in hard hats, and he recognized Richard Atkins next to Doug. Taking a picture of that, he sent it to Josh to identify the other people. The next framed photograph showed Doug with several other men and women, all professionally dressed. He would not have thought much about it except that one of the women was Eileen Jefferson…Charles’ wife. Sending that to Josh as well, he turned back to Bray, observing as he closed the top of the laptop.

  Gaining the all clear from the others in the van outside, they exited the office as clean as they had entered. Once in the van and headed back to the compound, he called Josh.

  “Pull up anything you can find on Eileen Jefferson. Just found a connection between her and Doug Smiteson.”

  “Do you figure she knew anything about what was going to happen to her husband?” Tate asked, the assigned driver for the night.

  “She’s a real estate agent and Doug owns a building company. She was conveniently in Hawaii the night her husband was attacked. Might be nothing more than coincidence, but I’m sending it to Roberto.”

  Closing his eyes as the van continued down the road, he felt as though they were getting closer to the threat against David. But just as that thought hit him, he wondered what would happen when the threat was removed. Will Sylvie and David go back to their life? And will I have a place in that life?

  A knock on the door startled Sylvie and she wondered if she would ever get over being so jumpy. Peeking out, she sighed in relief, seeing Babs. Opening it, she welcomed the woman in.

  Babs, as usual, got straight to the point. “Look, Sylvie, I don’t want to stick my nose in anyone else’s business, but the last time I was here, you mentioned that you weren’t sure about going back to your old job when your leave was up.”

  Motioning for Babs to follow, she walked into the living room and they settled into chairs. “Yes, that’s true. The job is going nowhere and, after what happened with David, I know my boss wants to get rid of me more than ever. He sees a single mom as a liability and not an asset.” Sighing, she added, “After this, I probably won’t have a job to go back to at all.”

  “You’re an administrative manager, right?” Seeing her nod, Babs continued, “So, I assume you do things like filing, typing, invoices, scheduli
ng, all the stuff that has to happen to keep the business running, right?”

  Nodding again, she asked, “Yes, but what is this about?”

  “Look, Mace has no idea that I’m here mentioning this to you and I can’t make any promises, but his business has grown and I’m overwhelmed with work. You’re right here, looking for something to do. It just seems like the two of us could come up with an idea on how you can help…at least until you figure out what else you want to do.”

  A spark of interest flamed inside of her, but she wondered how this would work. “It sounds really interesting, Babs, but I have no idea how Mace would feel about that. I can imagine that what you work on is all confidential and I don’t know that he would want me looking at that side of the business. And as far as he and I go…” she lifted her hands out to the side as she shrugged her shoulders.

  Babs sighed and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I wondered if that would be a problem. I mean, personally, I think you’re great for him and he seems to be really good for you and David too.”

  “Oh, he is!”

  “How about if we just keep this conversation between the two of us for now and I’ll see if I can sneak in the suggestion to him.” Grinning, Babs added, “Then, if he agrees, it was his idea.”

  David’s eyes never left his upper arm as Rank carefully drew the Lighthouse LSI tattoo on him. “You make it look so real,” he enthused.

  Rank had shown him his tattoo before they got started and David insisted he wanted one just like it. As Rank added the letters LSI to the base of the lighthouse, David grinned, careful to not jiggle his arm.

  Sylvie stood nearby, watching with fascination at Rank’s talent and smiling back at her son. Mace, standing with his arm around her shoulders, nodded as Rank shot his gaze up to him.

  Releasing her and stepping over to David, Mace said, “Rank is going to use a tiny bit of glue to adhere the tracer to your skin. It won’t hurt, I promise.”

  David’s grin never left his face as he looked up at him. “I can take it, even if it does hurt, Mr. Hanover. I wanna be tough like you.”

  “Son, you’re plenty tough,” he laughed, nodding toward Rank, who affixed the tracer to the center of the lighthouse light.

  “There,” Rank said, sitting back after ruffling David’s hair. “You’re all done.”

  David bounded from the chair, rushing over to show Horace, while she sucked in a deep breath. The sight of her son’s beaming face was priceless. Turning toward Mace, she offered her silent appreciation with her arms wrapped tightly around him.

  “Roberto, what have you got on Eileen Jefferson?” Mace asked.

  “I interviewed her. She works for Jonathan Adams, who owns Adams Realty.”

  With Roberto on speakerphone, Mace looked over toward Josh, who was sending information to the screen. As he viewed one of the pictures he had taken the night before in Doug’s office, he could see where Josh had identified Jonathan Adams standing next to Eileen, on the other side of Doug. Josh then flashed the other photograph on the screen, that showed Jonathan Adams standing with Doug and Richard Atkins.

  Mace said, “We’ve got a connection with her, through her employer, to the man who owns the building where her husband was assaulted and with the man who her husband was investigating.”

  Roberto replied, “I agree that she’s a person of interest, but she was out of the area at the time and we’ve dug up nothing on her that indicates she was party to her husband’s murder. They’ve got children, a typical house with a mortgage, enough life insurance to pay off the mortgage and the kid’s college tuitions, and some left over for her to be comfortable, but definitely not to make her a suspect for murder.”

  He sighed. “Yeah, I hear you. She wasn’t listed on any of the NSEG’s lists, but I will say that her boss, Jonathan Adams, has my suspicions, since he is connected with both Doug and Richard.”

  “Agreed,” Roberto said. “I’ll be interviewing him today.”

  Ending the phone conversation, he stood and walked over to his computer, each of his men working at their own desks. He glanced toward Babs and noticed her pile of work appeared to be even higher on her desk. Standing, he walked over and looked down at her.

  “You doing okay, Babs?”

  “Just buried as usual, boss.” She leaned back in her chair and heaved a sigh that puffed her short bangs up in the air. “Don’t suppose you’ve thought of hiring someone else to help out around here, have you?”

  Rubbing his hand over his stubbled jaw, he said, “I know we talked about it a while back but, I confess, I’ve been so busy lately, I haven’t thought about it again.”

  “Well, if you do think of somebody or decide to interview, that’d be good. It would need to be someone who’s got a background in administrative work…you know, invoices, filing, typing, scheduling, ordering…hell, even logistics.” Shooting him a slight smile, she turned back to her work, her head bent as her fingers flew over the keyboard.

  He moved back to his desk, but as he stared at his computer, an idea formed in his mind. Sylvie was an administrative manager and he knew she did not want to go back to her job. I wonder…

  So deep in thought, he missed the smiles passed among his other team members as several of them winked at Babs.

  19

  Mace sat on the delicate chair in the living room of the Jefferson home. Concerned with the sturdiness, or lack thereof, of the furniture, he focused his attention on the well-coiffed woman perched on the edge of the sofa. Her clothes appeared expensive and she looked more like she was going to a business meeting than sitting in her house being interviewed by the police. He noted her complexion was pale and even her carefully applied makeup could not hide the dark circles under her eyes.

  “I can’t see that one thing has anything to do with the other,” she said in answer to Roberto’s question about the timeline of her conference and her husband’s subsequent death, her pale hands clasped tightly in her lap.

  “How long have you worked for Adams Realty?”

  “For almost two years. I met Mr. Adams at one of Charles’ election fundraisers. I had been in real estate many years ago, but took time off when our children were young and I felt like Charles needed me at his side. As our children left for college, I began to look for employment again. Jonathan Adams said he thought I would be an asset to his company and could work for him at any time.”

  “And the conference you attended?”

  “I was thrilled to be able to go. Jonathan was originally slated to go to the conference but, at the last minute, was unable to. He said he had another obligation and the conference had been paid for, so he asked if I would replace him. Charles had no problem with me going, so I thought it would be good for my career.”

  Mace watched as tears formed in her eyes and she blinked quickly. Her fingers were linked so tightly in her lap, her knuckles were white. Sucking in a ragged breath, she said, “I had no idea when I left for the conference that I would not see Charles again.”

  “Mrs. Jefferson, as State Attorney, your husband had several open cases that he was working on. One of them was getting ready to prosecute a known hate group that goes by the name National Supreme Endeavor Group. Have you ever heard of it?”

  She shook her head, her eyes clear as she stared at Roberto. “Not with any specifics. I have certainly read about them in the newspaper and I know that Charles was working on a case and had mentioned that group. But for the most part, he kept his cases private, as he should have.”

  “What about their leader, Richard Atkins?”

  She startled at the question. Her brow crinkled, she cocked her head slightly to the side.

  “I’ve heard that name, but didn’t associate it with anything that Charles was working on. I think that Jonathan might know Mr. Atkins.” She lifted a pale hand and rubbed her forehead, giving off a delicate sigh. “I’m afraid my memory is rather muddled right now, but I think I remember Jonathan once talking about playing golf with his friend, Richard At
kins.”

  The rest of the interview gave little information and soon he and Roberto were driving away. Looking to the detective next to him, he asked, “Did you notice the pictures on the mantle?” Roberto shot him a questioning look so he continued, “She had the same picture on her mantle that Doug Smiteson had in his office. One of her, Doug, Jonathan, and several others. There was also a framed picture of Charles standing with several men. One of those men was Richard Atkins.”

  “I wonder how long he might have known Richard? Before he ran for State Attorney or after?”

  “You do your digging and I’ll get my men on it.”

  Richard sat at his desk, his posture easy but, to anyone who knew him, the glint in his eyes was anything but casual.

  Thomas Perdue sat in a chair to the side, sweat pouring down his back, trying, and failing, to hide his nerves from showing on his face.

  Jonathan Adams and Douglas Smiteson rounded out the quartet.

  “I want that kid,” Richard said, his voice cold and words clipped.

  “I tried—”

  “And failed miserably.” He shot Thomas a withering glare. “You stupidly showed up at his school and now have an entire office of people that can identify you.”

  Thomas grimaced, but remained quiet.

  Turning his attention to Douglas, he asked, “Did you take care of the man?”

  Douglas squirmed in his seat, loosening his suddenly too tight collar. Bobbing his head, he said, “Yes, yes. The worker who helped Thomas get rid of the body is gone. Paid off and sent back to Mexico with his family.”

  At the mention of Mexico, his eyes narrowed. His dislike for the country was well known among his cohorts at NSEG, but was equally as well hidden to the public. “You should have—”

  “No, no,” Douglas insisted. “Two dead bodies would have involved someone else to do the dirty work. It’s better this way.”