by Rebecca Deel
“I don’t understand what happened to him, angel. He’s not the brother I remember. From the time he was three, his goal was to attend medical school and become a doctor.”
“How old was he when you left?”
“Sixteen.”
“Maybe he wasn’t strong enough to stand up for what he wanted.”
Alex frowned. “He never seemed weak when we were growing up.”
“But you are the oldest, strong-willed, dominant. He never had to stand up for himself. You were there to face diversity. All he had to do was follow along in your shadow.”
He was silent a moment. Ivy started to worry that she’d offended him when he sighed and looked down at her. “When did you gain all this wisdom and insight, angel?”
“I’ve seen sibling interaction and family dynamics in action while dealing with my students. Don’t let yourself feel guilty for leaving, Alex. You were man enough to do what you felt was right. Porter is a grown man, responsible for his own decisions and actions. If he doesn’t like his lot in life, he has time to change his vocation. The only one holding Porter back from his dreams is Porter.”
He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Come on, angel. Let’s get out of here. I need to see what kind of security set up Dad has at the house and make a few phone calls.”
Alex drove across the city to the north side, the side with rolling lawns and mini-mansions perched in the middle of a landscaper’s delight. While he appreciated the view after wallowing in some of the worst war-torn countries across the globe, nothing beat his own personal less-than-perfect lawn and minimal landscaping. It wasn’t much in comparison to the vista in front of him, but his home was an oasis, one he valued because it was his. Although the interior of his home wouldn’t make the cover of any home decorating magazine either, he wasn’t in any hurry to put stuff up on the walls or furnish each room. In truth, he was waiting for his future wife to take on the job.
He glanced at the woman in the passenger seat, avidly watching the countryside, wondered if she would be the one to decorate his house. Dragging his thoughts away from the question, Alex took a right on Rosemont Place. Two minutes later, he guided the SUV along a winding driveway and parked in front of a gray stone, two-story, Victorian-style home.
“Oh, wow. This is where you grew up?”
Alex tried to see the place through her eyes. Impressive, he supposed, but to him it was just a place to sleep, had always been that way in his mind. Not like the Cahill home which was a true refuge from the storms of life. That was the kind of home he wanted to establish, a place of comfort, safety, and love. “Like it?”
“It’s beautiful.”
He noted the doubt in her voice. “But?”
“I wouldn’t have connected you to a place like this. It’s too fussy.” She turned toward him. “Your mother’s choice?”
A smile. “Good guess, angel.” His father hated the place, too.
“Your house suits you better.” She laughed softly. “It would be fabulous if you did something with it. Most of the rooms are empty.”
“Maybe you can help me with that.”
“Really?” Delight colored her tone. “I’d love to do that.”
“Excellent. The job’s yours. We’ll start the makeover as soon as we return to Otter Creek.” He released his seatbelt. “Let’s see if Porter called like I asked.”
Alex met Ivy at the front of the SUV and walked with her to the front door. He rang the doorbell to alert the housekeeper of their presence, then slipped the key in the lock and realized with a frown the lock hadn’t been engaged. That was going to be the first change. Just thinking about the easy breach of security that invited made his skin crawl. He wouldn’t consider doing that in Otter Creek, much less this close to D.C.
He opened the door and stepped aside for Ivy to enter. Closing and locking the door, he turned toward the sound of approaching footsteps. His eyes widened on spotting the gray-haired housekeeper. “Maria.” He couldn’t believe she was still keeping the Morgan household running after all these years. She should have retired by now.
“Mr. Alex!” She ran into his open arms. “Oh, Mr. Alex! So long I have waited for you to return.” She pulled back from his embrace, her cheeks wet, but her smile wide. “And look at you. How handsome you’ve grown. A fine man now. And look at all the muscle. The ladies must swoon.” This as she patted his chest.
“Why are you still working here, Maria?” He tilted his head. “You and Alberto made plans to visit all fifty states and retire in Hawaii.”
Melancholy swept across her features. “My Alberto passed on before we saved enough to begin the journey. I don’t want to go alone.”
“I’m so sorry. Alberto was a good man.” The barrel-chested landscaper had kept many of the yards around the north side of Hunter’s Glen in pristine shape. The man had been extraordinarily gifted with plants of any variety.
“Enough of that.” Maria wiped fresh tears from her cheeks. “Introduce me to this beautiful little one.”
Alex grinned at the description. “Maria, this is my girlfriend, Ivy Monroe. Ivy, Maria Alvarez.”
Ivy held out her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Maria.”
The housekeeper swept aside the hand and embraced her like she was a daughter. “Welcome, Miss Ivy,” she said, rubbing Ivy’s back. “You need anything at all, you come to Maria. I will take good care of you.” She released her and turned back to Alex. “It is good you come now, Mr. Alex. Bad things happening to this family.”
Alex considered her words, realized she wasn’t only referring to his father’s shooting. “What’s going on, Maria? Anything you can tell me?”
She shook her head. “You’ll see.”
And knowing the lady, he knew he wouldn’t get anything else except that cryptic remark. “There’s a good chance Dad’s shooting is connected to me. If you see or hear something that alarms you, I need to know about it.”
“I don’t understand. How can you be involved?”
“Dad said whoever shot him was after me, that I was the target. Listen, Maria, I’ve run up against many bad people over the years, the dregs of society. If my cover was blown, anyone who matters to me will be at risk. That includes you.”
“Cover?” Maria’s eyes widened. “You went into law enforcement?”
He shook his head. “Army, black ops. Three of my teammates will be here this evening. Can you find a place for them to sleep?”
“Plenty of room now since Mr. Porter moved out.” She hesitated. “The rooms have all been turned into guest rooms.”
Alex thought about that a minute, read between the lines to what she didn’t want to tell him. No doubt his mother had thrown out all his belongings soon after he left for the military, basically erasing his existence from her life. “It’s okay, Maria,” he said gently. “I never expected Mother to keep my room like a shrine, not after the way things ended.” In a hail of tears and recriminations, angry shouts, and a slap across the face. Not a banner day for his mother or father.
“It was wrong, what she did,” she said. “I managed to save a few things. I’ve kept them safe for you, hoping one day you would return to me.”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for that. I’ll stop by before I leave town, take them off your hands. Dad asked me to stay here and keep watch over Mother. He’s worried about her safety.”
Maria looked troubled. “Miss Cynthia will not be pleased.”
That was an understatement. “She’ll get over it.” His mother might despise him, but he was determined nothing would happen to her on his watch. He’d given his father his word. Not even his mother would make him break it.
“I will put you and your teammates in the other wing, along with Miss Ivy. At least you will have peace when you sleep.”
“You okay with those arrangements, angel?” Alex didn’t want Ivy to be uncomfortable being so close to Nate, Rio, and Quinn. Though she’d spent a lot of hours in their company the past
few weeks, he would never knowingly put her in a situation where she felt threatened. Her idiotic former boyfriend, Lee, had done a real number on her. If he ever met the man face-to-face, he’d be making that point unforgettable to him. It was probably a good thing the man was safely behind bars. Lee Hall would never put his hands on Ivy again, not if Alex had anything to say about it. Even if his dating relationship with Ivy ended, he’d still make sure she was safe from Lee.
She slipped her hand into his. “It’s fine.”
With a nod, he turned to Maria. “Quinn will bunk with me. Rio and Nate can share a room. Put Ivy in the room next to mine.” That way he’d only be steps from her during the night if someone managed to slip past the sentries on duty.
“Come with me. The guest rooms are always ready.”
He threaded his fingers through Ivy’s and they followed Maria to the far side of the house, climbed the winding staircase to the second floor and down the hall. The housekeeper showed them to the rooms she’d selected.
Alex scanned the three rooms, decided to put Ivy in the corner room, with him and Quinn to her left, and Rio and Nate across the hall. No easy access from the outside to Ivy’s room. Satisfied she would be safe, he said, “This is perfect, Maria. Thank you.”
She smiled. “Ask me for anything you need, Miss Ivy. Now, I must hurry to the grocery store. I have a large meal to prepare for hungry men.” Maria hurried off.
As her footsteps faded, Alex slid his arms around Ivy, hugged her close. When her arms circled his waist, he sighed, said nothing for a couple minutes. “I’m sorry, Ivy.”
“But you haven’t done anything.”
“Yeah, I did, babe. I believed the military had covered my tracks and I’ve kept a low profile since. I thought you would be safe and, instead, you’ve been caught in the backwash of my past.”
“Too late to back out now, buddy.” She squeezed his middle. “I’m not giving you up.”
“Even though being with me could be dangerous?”
“Even though. Having you in my life is worth the risk.”
Relief melted the ball of ice in his stomach. “I will protect you, Ivy.”
She pulled away enough that her gaze locked on his. “Of that I have no doubt.”
“I’ll get our gear.” He reluctantly loosened his grip and headed for the door. “Look around. You should familiarize yourself with the layout of the house. I’ll find you.”
Alex returned to the SUV and grabbed their luggage. It still amazed him that Ivy had packed so little. His mother would have brought enough stuff to fill his luggage compartment with just her belongings. Once he’d deposited Ivy’s bags in her room, he dumped his duffel on the queen-size bed in his assigned room.
He found Ivy in the living room, examining a painting on the wall. He grinned. Should have known she would zero in on the art in the house. “What do you think of it?”
She smiled over her shoulder, went back to studying the work of art. “It’s beautifully done. I never could quite master those brush strokes. Art students the world over have tried to copy Rembrandt with varying degrees of success. This one is the best I’ve seen. Do you know who painted it?”
Alex stilled. “You’re saying the painting is a fake?”
She turned to face him, her expression puzzled. “It’s a skillfully done copy.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. What’s wrong, Alex?”
He stared at the painting. “Unless my mother had a huge change of heart over the past fifteen years or the insurance company insisted on storing the art in vaults, my mother’s original Rembrandt has been stolen.”
CHAPTER SIX
“Do me a favor?” Alex asked.
“Anything. What do you need?” Ivy found it hard to believe Cynthia Morgan owned an original Rembrandt. She hadn’t seen any originals except in museums. They were incredibly beautiful. This copy, wonderful though it might be, was missing something of Rembrandt’s style. She couldn’t explain it. That’s why she was a teacher, not an artist. While her instructors proclaimed her a good painter, she wasn’t an artist, would never try to make a living as such or she would be the poster child for starving artists.
“Check the rest of the art throughout the house. I want to know if this is the only copy.”
“I’m an art teacher and a student of art. I’m not an expert.”
“You’re more knowledgeable than I am. Take a look around, see what you can find out. In the meantime, I’ll call Durango.”
Ivy wandered through the many rooms in the Morgan house, stopping at each painting, examining, studying. So many paintings and portraits graced the walls that the kaleidoscope of colors began to blur in her mind. Landscapes, portraits, watercolors, oil, a dizzying mixture of subjects and mediums. In what appeared to be an office, she studied the Cezanne. Incredible.
“What have you found?”
Ivy gasped, spun around to see Alex standing two feet away. “You walk like a cat. Make some noise next time.”
He chuckled. “Sorry, angel. Force of habit. A noisy sniper is a dead sniper. What can you tell me about the art?”
“I think about half the art in the house is a top-quality copy.”
He frowned. “Forgeries.”
“Not necessarily. Many people can’t afford to keep rare works of art on the walls in their home. Insurance on them can be very pricey, not to mention tax issues. A lot of art patrons will allow museums to display them. Some donate them for tax purposes. Others love the beauty of the paintings but don’t care to part with millions of dollars to own a piece of history.” She turned back to the Cezanne. “I’m an art teacher, Alex. Paintings like these are meant to be shared with the world. We can learn so much from the masters.”
“But they’re still forgeries.”
“They are excellent copies,” she insisted. “It’s not wrong to have them, just to claim they’re the original works of art if you try to sell them.”
“Mother would never knowingly buy a copy of anything. I can’t tell you how many fights she and Dad had over that very issue.” His arms circled her waist, his chest pressed against Ivy’s back. “My grandparents were extremely wealthy and collected art. Mother grew up with originals decorating the walls of her home.”
“Did she inherit the paintings?”
Alex dropped a kiss on the side of her neck. When she shivered in reaction, his arms tightened. “The inheritance taxes would have been astronomical. My grandparents willed the paintings to the National Gallery of Art. This is Mother’s own collection.” He paused. “Or at least it used to be her collection.”
She turned to face him. “Will you ask her about them?”
“Not yet. If Dad’s been slowly moving them to a vault for protection, I don’t want to cause him problems.” He grimaced. “Mother can be…difficult to deal with.”
“She’s a strong woman.”
“I’ll see what I can find out from him or Porter. This may be nothing.”
“But it doesn’t feel that way, does it?”
He shook his head.
Ivy felt for him, having to walk the line between his father and mother and fending off his brother’s antagonism, all while unraveling the identity of the person who had targeted him. “When will Durango arrive?”
“Around seven. Fortress is flying them into D.C. on one of the jets.”
Good. The sooner Quinn, Nate, and Rio arrived to watch Alex’s back, the better she’d feel. Maybe it was just her imagination, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching them.
Alex tucked Ivy into his side and guided her from his father’s office. “Come on. It’s lunchtime. Let’s go to the kitchen. Maria always has something good. After that, you should probably sleep for a while. You stayed awake all night.”
“So did you. I’m fine.” She spoiled the declaration with a jaw-cracking yawn.
He laughed. “Come on, angel. Food, then sleep for you. I’ll be fine until tonight.”
&n
bsp; “You’re not Superman,” she muttered grumpily.
Hiding his grin by kissing her temple, he said, “Nope. I am, however, trained by the military to go without sleep for extended periods of time.” And he remembered Ivy was short-tempered when tired. He’d found that out while helping Josh protect Del and Ivy during the summer. Maybe he’d get lucky in the kitchen and find some chocolate, a weakness of Ivy’s.
The gourmet kitchen remained as it did when he lived here. Gleaming stainless steel appliances, chef’s knives, granite countertop, stone floor. Alex nudged her to the breakfast nook. “I’ll see what’s available. Anything you can’t have?”
“No avocado.” She shuddered.
“No guacamole. Check.” He made a mental note not to order that when he took her out for Mexican food. No problem. He wasn’t a fan of the stuff, either. Too bland for his taste. Opening the refrigerator, he hit paydirt. His mouth watered as he removed the pan of lasagna and placed it on the counter. After heating the food, he slid a plate in front of Ivy with utensils and a napkin, then set his next to her. “There’s soda, orange juice, milk, and unsweetened tea to drink. What’s your preference?”
“Water, please.”
He retraced his steps to the fridge and grabbed two bottles of water. Conversation stayed general by design. He hoped she would sleep at least a couple hours, but she probably wouldn’t if she believed he needed her to help him do research. He wasn’t a hacker by any means, though he knew plenty at Fortress he could tap for help if necessary.
After rinsing the plates and dumping their stuff in the dishwasher, Alex turned to Ivy. “You need to rest.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Go through Dad’s email. I want to see the pictures that were sent to him, see what I can pick up from them.”
“I can help with that.”
“Give yourself a chance to recharge. We’ll look at them together when you wake up.”
Ivy glanced in the direction of the staircase, bit her lip.
He threaded his fingers through her hair, gently turned her face back to him. “What’s wrong, angel?”
