JOSS: A Standalone Romance (Gray Wolf Security)

by Glenna Sinclair

  Alone.

  Chapter 4

  Carrington

  Breakfast was the usual rush, trying to get McKelty’s homework in her backpack and food down her throat before we had to be in the car in order to get her to school on time. I was a little concerned about Joss, wondering if she knew what time we left and if she would be ready to go on time. But she was in the kitchen even before I was, the coffee already brewing and the oatmeal bubbling on the stove. She made a gesture, clearly wondering if she’d stepped on my toes. But I was grateful for the help.

  McKelty, however, was overly curious about Joss. She kept staring at her and asking her question after question.

  “Why don’t you talk?”

  “Why do you protect kids?”

  “Do you have kids of your own?”

  “Do you like kids?”

  “Do you have a husband?”

  It just went on and on even after I told McKelty to stop. Joss pretty much ignored her, making a few gestures here and there, but nothing more.

  I was almost relieved to drop them off at the school. Though I had to admit, it concerned me a little when McKelty tried to take Joss’ hand and Joss jerked her hand out of McKelty’s reach.

  It was a busy morning at the office, hours of meetings about this shipment and that. It wasn’t until lunch that I got anything like a break. Like most days, I had a sandwich from a local deli at my desk. I was going to answer emails that had come in while I was otherwise occupied, but I found myself plugging Joss’ name into Google, wondering if I could find some information about what happened to her to make her choose not to speak.

  A dozen newspaper articles came up with Joss’ name in them in some form or other. Most of them were in reference to some crime or another. I assumed they were all related to Gray Wolf Security. Joss was a witness to a car accident. Joss was a guest in someone’s house when an intruder broke in. Joss helped a woman fend off an attacker. The stories were usually small and buried in the back pages of the newspaper. But some of the names in those articles were impressive. High-powered executives. Well-respected doctors. A couple of actors. She must be good if those were the kinds of clients she had.

  But none of this answered my question.

  I picked up the phone and called Ash Grayson.

  “I realize this is a personal issue and I might not have the right to ask about it, but I’m concerned that her choice not to speak could impact her ability to protect my child.”

  “I understand,” Ash said. “But I can assure you that it won’t.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I’ve known Joss for more than twelve years. She is professional. If I thought there might be an issue, I wouldn’t have put her on this case.”

  “Yes, well, with our history, I’m not sure how much faith I can place on your word.”

  Ash fell silent on the other end of the line. And then he said something that I initially thought I misunderstood.

  “Virden, Illinois.”

  “What?”

  “That’s where Joss was living until two years ago.”

  Ash hung up, as though that satisfactorily cleared the issue up. It didn’t. I slammed the phone back into its cradle, my thoughts leaning toward severing my relationship with Gray Wolf Security. But that would mean tossing Joss out of my house and that thought gave me some hesitation. I wasn’t sure why, but I wasn’t ready to see her go just yet.

  My thoughts went to her walking into the kitchen last night with nothing but that t-shirt and a ridiculously short pair of shorts covering her lovely curves. It took all I had not to touch her, not to corner her and ask if she’d be more comfortable in my bed. It was stupid to have such thoughts about someone I’d known for less than twenty-four hours, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her when I went to bed last night. That was part of the reason I was in the kitchen when she came down. There was just something about her…she wasn’t even my type. I liked my women…what women? I hadn’t been with anyone in years. God knew there’d been opportunities. However, with McKelty and everything else that had been going on in my life these last eight years, I didn’t have time to be attracted to a woman, let alone invite one into my bed.

  But Joss had somehow wormed her way into my head and I couldn’t get her out.

  Hell!

  I stared at my computer screen, then finally typed in Virden, Illinois after Joss’ name. Almost immediately an article in the Springfield newspaper, the State Journal-Register, came up.

  “Popular Teacher Dies in Car Accident”

  The article was dated over four years ago.

  “Esteban Hernandez, popular English teacher at Virden High School, was killed last night in an accident on Cemetery Road. He was twenty-six. Mr. Hernandez was traveling eastbound when his truck was struck on the passenger side by an unidentified vehicle. Mr. Hernandez lost control of his truck and rolled four times down an embankment. Also in the truck with him was his eighteen-month old son, Isaac Hernandez. Little Isaac is currently in the NICU at Memorial Medical in Springfield where his mother, Joselyn Hernandez is sitting vigil at his side.”

  A follow-up article announced that the baby’s injuries were too severe for him to survive. A double funeral was held a week after the accident at the local Catholic church.

  I sat back, studying a picture that accompanied one of the articles, a picture of Joss coming out of the church in the company of several Hispanic women. Her in-laws, most likely. She was dressed all in black, her curves fuller then. Her face was covered with a thin veil, but I knew it was Joss without reading the caption at the bottom. There was just something about the way she held her head, the way she stared past the photographer.

  I thought I’d been through a lot in the past few years. But to lose both your husband and your child all at the same time? I’m not sure I could have survived that.

  No wonder the woman didn’t speak.

  I continued digging through the articles, using Esteban Hernandez’s name to find them now. There was nothing after the funeral until almost eight months later. Then there was an article announcing the arrest of one Carl Runion. Evidence had been discovered, the article said, that showed Mr. Runion leaving a bar the night of the accident just a short time before a passing motorist called 9-1-1. Runion pled guilty at his arraignment and was sentenced to five years for reckless homicide.

  It didn’t seem like the punishment was severe enough to me. But then another article announced that Runion had found himself on the wrong side of some very violent groups in prison and was beaten severely enough that he would be spending the rest of his life in a wheelchair.

  Karma?

  I would never wish harm on another human being. But someone who was capable of killing a man and his child deserved more than a slap on the wrist.

  I went back to one of the earlier articles and found a picture of Joss with her family. It must have been taken not long after the baby was born. Joss sat in a club chair, her husband on a stool at her feet and the baby in her arms. Her husband was a husky man with dark skin and light-colored eyes. He was looking up at her with clear affection, the sort of look only a man deeply in love could wear. And she was staring at the baby with the same expression of affection, a glow about her that made her the focal point of the photograph despite the presence of two other people.

  I was almost jealous of that man. To have known that kind of love…that was something.

  My parents knew that kind of love. And it destroyed my mom.

  Joss was clearly a stronger kind of woman to have survived such a horrible loss. But, again, she didn’t speak…so one had to wonder if she really did survive.

  Chapter 5

  Joss

  The school wouldn’t allow me to be in the classroom during instruction, so I found myself spending most of the day sitting in a narrow little chair out in the hallway like I once had to do when I caused trouble for my own teachers. Everything about this place reminded me too much of the past, of my own
childhood. I wondered if that was what it was like for parents who found themselves reentering the school system after they’d thought they’d escaped.

  During the afternoon recess, I stood out by the gate that led to the fenced off playground. I could see McKelty from where I was, but I could also see most of the street and the buildings surrounding the school. It was the best vantage point for watching for danger. And it kept me out of the way of the enthusiastic and very curious children.

  “How are you holding up?”

  I turned, surprised to find Kirkland standing behind me. He smiled, that charming smile that had gotten more than one woman into his bed. He looked more like a teenager trying to appease a parent to me, but maybe my susceptibility to charm was gone.

  He gestured toward a building that looked directly down on the front of the school.

  “I found some cigarette butts and trash up there. Clearly someone’s been hanging around, but he’s not there now. I put a couple of cameras up there so David could keep an eye out, but I don’t think he’ll be back. He was just playing games.”

  I nodded. I agreed. Most of our clients were threatened by people who simply wanted to frighten them. There was rarely real danger behind the threats. However, we always approached a case as if the threat was real—just in case the threat proved to be real.

  “I called Emily. She said she’d send a team to gather evidence just in case we need it later.”

  Emily Warren was a detective with the Los Angeles Police Department, and she was our liaison with the department. She was also married to the chief of police with the Santa Monica Police Department, so she helped us out a lot there, too.

  I touched Kirkland’s arm in a gesture of gratitude. He stepped closer to me, resting his hands on my shoulders.

  “Tell me the truth,” he said softly. “Are you okay?”

  I didn’t immediately respond. I wasn’t sure how to. I wanted to be okay. I was a professional and this was my job. But being around these children, especially the little girl who was my target, was difficult. I’d spent the last four years trying to avoid children. It wasn’t that I didn’t like kids. I’d always loved kids. They were so innocent that being around them was a reaffirmation in hope. But now, the kids were just a reminder of all I’d lost.

  Kirkland recognized my hesitation. He touched his finger under my chin and forced my head up.

  “I tried to talk Ash out of this. I said you weren’t ready, but he insisted you were.”

  Was it possible to feel betrayed and loved all at the same time? They were discussing me behind my back. I didn’t like that. But they cared enough to discuss me. That was almost touching.

  I stepped back, but Kirkland wasn’t about to let me get away with hiding. He took my arm and pushed me back against the gate.

  “As much as you hate to admit it, we care about you. So quit trying to hide behind this façade of yours and tell me the truth. Do you need to be pulled off this assignment?”

  I shook my head.

  His warm, hazel eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re not lying to me?”

  I shook my head again.

  He touched the side of my face and—for a moment—I could see what it was all those women saw in him. Kirkland could make a woman feel like she was the only one on Earth who mattered. It was a powerful feeling.

  I moved into his arms and let him hug me for a second. Then I stepped away and made a shooing motion at him. He cracked a smile and executed a deep bow.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m going.”

  But then he stepped close again, pressing his lips to my jaw.

  “Call me if you need anything,” he whispered near my ear.

  I caught his hand and squeezed it. Then I watched him go, disappearing around the corner of the building.

  “Is that your boyfriend?”

  I turned, having almost forgot where I was standing. Half a dozen children were standing at the gate watching me. I shooed them off, too, but not before I caught sight of McKelty’s blue eyes. I had a sinking feeling when I met her eye. She seemed disappointed, though I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as if I knew her that well. I hadn’t even acknowledged her more than I had to. Yet, it still bothered me a little.

  I turned away and texted Carrington to let him know what Kirkland had found. He came back almost immediately.

  Thank you.

  And that made me smile for reasons I didn’t want to analyze.

  Chapter 6

  Carrington

  Joss was standing by the main doors of the school when I pulled up to pick up McKelty later that afternoon. She stepped down from the steps and came over, her expression unreadable.

  “Good day?”

  She nodded.

  “Where was the photographer?”

  Joss pointed to a building behind and to the right of us. I turned and studied the top of the building, looking for any sign that someone was watching us. My phone buzzed as I looked. I tugged it out of my pocket—almost as an afterthought—only to discover a text message from Joss.

  Our liaison with the LAPD sent a team to check it out. She doesn’t think they’ll be back.

  “How can she be sure?” I asked, turning back to her.

  Joss caught my eye and studied my face for a second. Then she began to type into her phone again.

  Because they were just trying to frighten you. And they did.

  That was true. I was frightened. But I wasn’t sure Joss fully understood the nature of the threat.

  “Did Ash tell you who I think is doing this?”

  She didn’t respond, just stared at me with those big, blue eyes with the tinniest specks of green.

  “There are several illegal organizations working out of Los Angeles that need the ability to transport large items to and from certain foreign countries. They approached me more than six months ago, offering to pay me triple to use my shipping business for their illegal transactions. I refused.”

  Her eyebrows rose and that annoyed me. Did she really think I was the kind of guy who would allow such a thing to take place? If so, she didn’t know me very well.

  “My grandfather started Matthews Shipping with nothing but a loan from a bank and a willingness to work hard. He and my father both put all of their heart and soul into the company. I’m not going to be the one to spoil all of that.”

  She touched my arm as she nodded again. And then we were suddenly surrounded by children as the school bell rang and class was dismissed. I turned just in time to see McKelty coming out of the door, her step lacking her normal enthusiasm.

  “Hey, darlin’,” I said, kneeling to greet her. “How was school?”

  McKelty glanced at Joss, then shrugged. “Okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  She shrugged. Another glance at Joss, and then she moved around me to get into the car. I stood and looked at Joss myself.

  “What’s that all about?”

  Joss shrugged, too.

  Great. Two uncommunicative women.

  Needless to say, the ride back to my office was silent. I turned on the radio just for the noise, caught by surprised to see Joss tapping her fingers on her thigh to the beat of a popular pop song. Her lips were moving too, though no sound was coming out.

  She liked music. Interesting.

  I set McKelty up on the couch in one corner of my office, her homework on her lap. I sat beside her, my laptop open to the list of emails that came in over the forty minutes it took me to pick her up. Joss was pacing the length of the room, her cell phone in her hands. She was talking to someone, and I was deeply curious to know whom that was. I told myself my interest was restricted to how the conversation she was having might impact McKelty and myself. I even believed it. A little.

  McKelty wasn’t concentrating on her homework. She kept looking up at Joss, watching her move up and down the length of the room, her eyes glued to her phone.

  “Was he your boyfriend?” she suddenly asked. “Everyone said he was.”

  I look
ed up. Joss paused in her movements, her eyes jumping from my face to McKelty’s.

  “Everyone thought he looked really nice, but I said he wasn’t your boyfriend just because he kissed you.”

  “Excuse me?” I demanded, jumping to my feet. In the same motion, I shoved my computer onto the low coffee table. “You were kissing some guy while you were supposed to be watching over my daughter?”

  Joss shook her head emphatically. She started typing into her phone and an instant later my phone buzzed.

  He was a coworker. A friend. He was telling me what he found on that rooftop.

  “He had to kiss you to tell you that?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, a look of defiance covering her gorgeous features.

  I’d almost forgotten that McKelty was watching us until she asked, “Was he your boyfriend?”

  Joss shook her head, her eyes falling on McKelty. She went to her, falling to her knees in front of her. She took the pencil out of McKelty’s hand and wrote a single word on her homework page.

  Friend.

  “That’s what I told everyone.”

  Joss smiled, patting McKelty’s cheek lightly. She started to stand again, but McKelty grabbed her wrist.

  “Do you know how to do multiplication?”

  Joss nodded.

  “Can you help me? I don’t understand.”

  Joss glanced back at me. I waved at her, telling her with one of her own gestures to go for it.

  Joss took a blank piece of paper from a stack beside McKelty and began writing. In a couple of minutes she had a multiplication table written out. Then she pointed at one of the problems on McKelty’s homework and showed her how to find the answer with the chart. McKelty watched closely.

  “That’s all you have to do?”

  Joss nodded.

  She smiled. “That’s so much easier than how the teacher told us. She said we had to add the same number over and over, but I couldn’t remember which number it was we had to add or how to tell how many times to do it.”