by Cassie Miles
He’d secured a new position as director of security for Matrice Biomedics. The job would keep him in Colorado, close to family. He’d delayed his start date until June 15th, almost six weeks away. Until then, he had few worries. His biggest one at the present time was what to have for lunch.
Fifteen minutes later, Mack was on his second sandwich when he heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. Had his father decided to come early? He wasn’t expected until the end of the week. When the car rounded the final bend in the road, Mack shook his head in disbelief.
Bingham Trovell, the man who’d been his commanding officer for a good portion of his career, had his arm hanging out the window, waving like a fool. Mack waited until the car had stopped before approaching. “Has hell frozen over, sir? I can’t imagine anything else that would get you on land.”
Bing opened his car door and shifted two hundred and fifty pounds of black muscle out of the car. At fifty, he could probably still work circles around men half his age. He’d retired just three years earlier to a little boat and started calling the Mississippi home.
Bing looked at the package of hot dogs and buns that Mack had tossed aside earlier. “Good. I’m glad I made it in time.”
Mack laughed and hugged the big man. “Come have a seat at my fire.”
It was two hot dogs, two beers and forty minutes later that Bing dropped his bombshell. “I need a favor.”
“Anything,” Mack said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“I’ve got a friend who needs some security for his family. I told him that I knew somebody who could fit the bill perfectly. You.”
Mack shook his head. “No.”
“Were my sources incorrect? Are you not taking the job at Matrice Biomedics?”
Mack nodded. “I’m securing data and trade secrets and intellectual property. All the things I stole from the enemy. I’m not a bouncer at the front door.”
“But you could be a bouncer. You have been a bouncer.”
Mack couldn’t deny that. His role in naval intelligence had morphed over the years, and there had been times when he’d been charged with ensuring the physical security of important places and important people. “I start working in mid-June. That means I have to have the cabin done by then so that it’s ready for Chandler’s wedding at the end of June. I promised her.”
“We’ll get the right people up here to finish the job. At our expense. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“Who the hell is this person?” Mack asked.
“He’s my friend. My old college roommate, actually. Reverend Archibald Minnow.”
Mack frowned at his friend. “The television preacher? That Archibald Minnow?”
“Yes. But it’s not security for him. It’s for his daughter, Hope.”
Hope Minnow. Mack had always had the ability to recall information quickly and his three weeks in mountain air hadn’t dulled his senses. “She was recently profiled in People. Short article. I read it and four others between dress changes.”
Bing raised one eyebrow, making his already homely face look even less symmetrical. “Between dress changes?”
Mack waved a hand. “Wedding dresses. Most women want their bridesmaids with them. Not my sister. She wanted them and me.” He’d been happy enough to go. There was nothing terribly taxing about being surrounded by four women who smelled wonderful and whose only expectation was a thumbs-up or -down on the dress. Plus, the upscale shopping area where the store was located had recently been targeted by street gangs looking for pockets to pick and purses to snatch.
Call him overprotective. He could take it. But it hadn’t been that long ago that his sister had almost died at the hands of their crazy stepmother. Besides, Ethan couldn’t go; no way was the groom getting an early peak at the dress. It had to be Mack.
“Well, I hope you found something lovely that fits you well in the hips,” Bing said, his tone absolutely serious.
Mack set his gaze on the horizon. “You know,” he said, “people get lost in these woods all the time. Their bodies don’t get found until years later. By then, of course, all the meat has been eaten off.”
Bing gave him a fast, crooked smile. Then he got somber. “Hope Minnow needs you.”
“That wasn’t my impression from the article. I think she needs her personal shopper, her masseuse and her flavored vodka. The paparazzi caught her at some event in New York City.”
“She spends a lot of time there. The Minnows live in New Jersey in a more rural area. It’s a forty-minute drive into the city with good traffic.”
“Worth doing if you’re looking for some action,” Mack said.
“She’s my godchild,” Bing said.
“No offense meant.”
“None taken. She was always the sweetest thing growing up. Got married a couple years ago but that didn’t work out. After that, she seemed to change.”
“Her image doesn’t quite fit with the message Archibald Minnow preaches, does it?”
“Not hardly. And I won’t defend the man’s beliefs but he’s been my friend for a long time and I’d like to help him. I definitely don’t want anything to happen to Hope.”
“What happened to the ex-husband?” Mack asked.
“William Baylor. He still works with Archie in the ministry. There are long ties between the two families. I guess his mother and Patsy Minnow were friends in college.”
“Hope must have gone back to her maiden name?”
“Right away.”
“It’s got to be awkward with him still working with her father,” Mack said. “She doesn’t work for the ministry, too, does she?”
Bing shook his head. “No. I don’t think Hope has anything to do with the ministry or much to do with Archie. He never talks about her.”
“Does she work somewhere else or is she strictly a party girl?” Mack thought back to the picture he’d seen in the magazine. Long, sexy legs, short black skirt and a top that showed just enough cleavage to make a grown man beg for more. Pretty face with blond hair hanging down to the middle of her back. Eye candy.
He didn’t mind that, but he preferred a little more substance. Although both eye candy and substance had been sadly missing in his life the past few months as he worked feverishly to finish up things before leaving Uncle Sam’s employ.
“She used to have a good job working at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in special events. She has a master’s degree from New York University. But she left her job when her mother got sick.”
Maybe he’d misjudged. There could be plenty of substance there. “How is Mrs. Minnow now?”
“Better. Definitely good enough to travel, she says. Patsy Minnow is a real sweetheart. I’ve always told Archie that he didn’t deserve her. So, what do you think?” Bing prompted.
It wouldn’t be the worst assignment he’d ever had. And he owed Bing. Would always owe Bing. “How long?”
“Just for a few weeks until Archie has the opportunity to vet the qualifications of various security firms. He and his wife are scheduled to leave the country the day after tomorrow for ten days and he won’t have a chance to address it before then. There’s a small group going along, including my wife and me. Otherwise, I’d do it myself. He has to be very careful who he lets into his inner circle. I’ve vouched for you and that’s good enough. He knows I would never disappoint him and I’ve told him that you would never knowingly disappoint me.”
True. Twelve years ago, Bing had saved Mack from torture and a bad death when Mack had underestimated the enemy. Bing had done it at great risk to himself. That wasn’t something a man took lightly. Mack looked around the yard. The cabin was coming along nicely. Somebody else could lay the floor and get the bathroom finished. If he babysat Hope for ten days, there’d still be plenty of time to paint and get the yard cleaned
up. There was really no good reason to turn down Bing.
“Okay. I’m in,” Mack said.
Copyright © 2014 by Beverly R. Long
ISBN-13: 9781460339107
Snow Blind
Copyright © 2014 by Kay Bergstrom
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