Hot SEAL, Midnight Magic (SEALs In Paradise)

by Teresa J. Reasor

  Clarkson’s features blanked in surprise, and for the first time she saw uncertainty. She leaned her giant-sized bag next to her chair, crossed her legs, and rested her hands in her lap. She watched Clarkson’s expression grow more and more concerned as he read through the files. He wasn’t even halfway through when he closed the folder and stared across the desk at her.

  “How many times have you left one of the young women who work here in the room alone with him? Have you introduced him to your daughters? Tonya and I were classmates in high school. I think we even had a few classes together. Can you imagine her going out with him?”

  “No.” He spoke very softly.

  “Then why were you so quick to believe I would?”

  He remained silent.

  “He’s a sexual predator and a liability to your bank, Mr. Clarkson. And he attempted to use his position on the board as a springboard into my mother’s business by threatening mine. I don’t know how deeply he’s bought into the bank, but I’d start doing research into whether or not he’s pulling his strong-arm tactics with other customers. The Feds might have an interest in that if he is.”

  She rose to leave. And he was quick to rise as well.

  “Your loan is secure with us, Ms. Blanchard. I give you my word.”

  “I’ve asked my lawyer to look over the agreement again, just in case. If there are any other issues, I will report them to the authorities. Keep Abney away from your wife and daughters, Mr. Clarkson. I believe he’s dangerous.”

  Gage had told her to kick ass. She didn’t have to. The paperwork she brought with her did the work. And she just painted another bull’s-eye on her back by outing Abney to the board.

  *

  Gage turned the car into the parking lot behind the Harley dealership where several bikes were lined up side by side along the fence, and each one was distinctive in some way. One looked like it could be a vintage and was meticulously restored.

  He turned his attention to the large block building painted white with a tin roof and large, open garage doors. As he got out of the car he could hear machinery whining inside the structure and the sound of someone beating the hell out of something metal.

  Decker appeared at one of the doors and stepped outside while cleaning his hands on a rag. Dressed in a light gray short-sleeved coverall, his tall, lanky body looked even thinner, but his deltoid muscles bunched as he bent his arms. Working on bikes could be hard work.

  Gage shut the car door and sauntered toward him.

  “Come on in and check out one of the bikes I’m working on.”

  It had been a long time since he’d heard pride in his brother’s voice. If he ever had.

  Gage counted three other guys in the garage. Large racks held tires, spare parts, and every kind of tool he’d ever seen plus some he didn’t recognize. Drills, drill presses, and air compressors were positioned against one wall. Metal racks held three Harleys, all in the process of being either built up or torn down. Amid the noisy banging, and the smells of motor oil and exhaust lingering, Decker looked like he was in his element. Maybe his baby brother finally found his place.

  Decker led him to a Road King. The gas tank was painted dark gray, contrasting with the pale peach of the woman’s face while along the side her blonde, curling tresses streamed down the tank and along the underside of the seat. That same curling blond hair appeared to be tangled around the back fender. Decker had designed the illusion so well it looked real, and it made this Harley-Davidson a one of a kind.

  Why hadn’t Gage known Decker had artistic talent? He couldn’t remember ever seeing him draw or paint anything other than a wall with a roller.

  And he was actually good at this. No. Great.

  He squatted down to get a better look at the painting. The subtle shading from light to dark was flawless. “It’s amazing, Decker. It’s almost like a spirit is embodying the Harley.”

  “That’s what I was going for.” A quick, rare smile flitted across his thin face.

  Emotion tightened Gage’s chest and he focused on the bike.

  “Do you miss your Harley?” Decker asked.

  “Yeah, I do. But by the time I rode it from New Orleans to San Diego I hated that fucker. My ass was sore all the time. Hell, I was sore all over. And you can at least sleep in a car. I had to camp out in the desert more than once before I made it.”

  “Is that where you live now?”

  “Now and then. I’m in and out of the country a lot. I work for a security company.” He only felt a few twinges about lying to him.

  “Cool. I can tell you work out. You’ve bulked up. And I suppose you get to carry a weapon and all that.”

  “Yeah, when it’s needed.”

  Decker looked up briefly. “How’s Mama?”

  “She’s healing and complaining that she wants to go home, but she’s not steady enough to stay by herself yet. She can’t even walk to the bathroom without help.”

  Decker looped the paint-stained rag around his neck. “How long do you think it will be before she’s able to go home?”

  “Two or three more weeks at least.”

  “I went by the house and saw the new attic windows. You even painted them. It looks good.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I know you won’t trust me with a key. But when Mama comes home, I’ll do my part looking out for her.”

  Gage searched his expression. “I’ll need you to, Decker. I’ll probably be back in California by then. And Roman can’t do it all by himself. It’s going to take her a long time to get over what happened.”

  Decker bobbed his head without looking up.

  “What do you need to talk to me about, Decker?” His stomach ached with emotion. His baby brother looked beaten, and most of it was his own doing. He had always been his own worst enemy. And the monkey on his back had driven him to do things Gage would never have believed Decker was capable of doing.

  “I think Mama getting hurt was a wakeup call for me. I’m really trying now, Gage.”

  Decker looked up briefly. “It could have been one of my junkie friends who did it. They know where I lived before I got my apartment, and they come by Mama’s now and then looking for me.”

  “You need to spread the word for them to stay away, Decker.”

  “I will.” He looked around the room but never met Gage’s eyes. “I can’t have them here either. I’d lose my job, and I really like what I’m doing now.”

  “You’re judged by the company you keep. If you’re hanging with them and they get busted…with your record… You have a real gift for what you’re doing, bro. You need to hold on to it with both hands.” He could have a life if he’d just allow himself to.

  “I will.”

  Though Decker’s thin face bore all the same familial resemblance to him and Roman, he had never been strong. He’d always been a follower, never a leader. He could be easily influenced. Had it led his baby brother down a path…

  “You could go by the rehabilitation facility and see Mama. She’s doing better,” he suggested.

  Decker’s eyes shifted away. “Maybe I will.”

  Gage doubted he would. “I have to go, Decker.”

  “Yeah. I know.” He straightened from leaning against the worktable scattered with his tools. “I have to get back to work too.”

  Gage extended his hand. “Good work, Decker.”

  His brother smiled again as he shook it.

  As soon as Gage stepped outside the garage, every nerve and muscle in his body went on red alert.

  Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb were leaning against the front of their vehicle. Both straightened when they saw him and started toward him.

  “Well, I wondered when you’d show up, Dwight Williams and Tony Richards,” he shouted louder than was necessary. “I sent your picture to one of NOPD’s detectives recently. He’s aware that you’ve been following me.”

  Gage sensed movement behind him and chanced a glance over his shoulder. Decker came to the door, a large Ch
annellock in his hand.

  “There’s someone who wants to talk to you,” Williams said.

  “Then tell him to meet me or pick up the fucking phone.”

  Richards put a hand in his pocket and Gage tensed. If he had a gun… Fuck this shit. It was better to be on the offensive than the defensive. He started forward at a jog. He’d rather go all-in with a face-to-face fight than to be shot down without one.

  Up close the two men were overweight and built like fireplugs, but both looked strong as oxen.

  Richards removed a cell phone. Gage came to a halt four feet away. The man dialed a number and spoke into the phone. He lowered it from his ear. “The man wants to talk to you.”

  Gage strode forward and took it and placed it against his ear. “What do you want, Blanchard?”

  “This is Marc Blanchard. I wanted to meet with you, but I’ll settle for this conversation.”

  The man’s voice sounded weak and whispery. “My ex-wife has destroyed any chance I had of a relationship with my son, but I know what you meant to my daughter before you left New Orleans, and I suspect you still do since you’re staying with her. I thought maybe you’d be willing to act as a go-between for her and me.”

  He knew how Mia felt about her mother and brother, but she rarely spoke about her father. “And why would I do that?”

  “Because I have cancer and I don’t have much time left, Mr. Fontenot. I want to make Mia my sole heir, and I’d like to meet with her and discuss some things. I hope you might be open to convincing her to see me.”

  “Why don’t you just call her?”

  “It’s been almost two years since we’ve spoken, and it’s going to be a shock when she finds out I’m dying. I want someone with her who will act as a support system when we meet. And don’t want my son to know I’m in the area. There’s been bad blood between us for some time…

  “Now my people think Mia and you are being followed. Someone has a reason to do it, and I think it might be because Mason and his mother have found out I’m here and they’re watching to see if we meet.

  “Mia might have a chance to find some happiness with what I have left.”

  He wanted to believe this guy was for real, but it seemed too good to be true. But then Mama had said Blanchard was responsible for giving Mia the money for college. And he paid his child support, though Camille hadn’t exactly lavished much of it on her children. “Why did you send these two goons after me if all you wanted to do was talk?”

  “Recently I’ve had need for extra security. I’ve had two attempted break-ins and a suspicious fire. And thanks to Dwight and Tony’s reputations, no one is willing to screw with them.”

  “Give me an address and a phone number and I’ll see what I can do, but I need to check everything out first.”

  “Don’t take too long, Gage.”

  Gage juggled his own phone to take down the information while holding the phone against his ear with his shoulder.

  “I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Everything okay, Gage?” Decker called from behind him.

  He turned to find Decker still standing watch. “Yeah. Thanks, bro.”

  Decker went back inside the garage and the whine of a hydraulic wrench started back up.

  Gage handed Williams his phone. “Is the man you’re working for sick?”

  Williams exchanged a glance with Richards “Yeah. He’s a walking skeleton.”

  “What kind of break-in was it at his house?”

  “Someone broke in and searched the downstairs office, then set fire to the place,” Richards said.

  Jesus. “Did he file a police report?”

  “Yeah. Then he hired us.”

  Gage nodded and turned to walk away.

  “Whatever he asked you to do, you better do it fast. He won’t be around much longer,” Richards said.

  “Why are you involved?”

  “I owe Mr. Blanchard a favor, and I pay my debts.”

  Gage suddenly felt like he was in a gangster movie. “What kind of favor did he do for you?”

  “He looked past my son’s connection to me and hired him to work at one of his businesses. And my son is making his mark with the company.”

  “I hope I don’t look in my rearview mirror and see you guys following me anymore.”

  “If Mr. Blanchard tells us to follow you, we follow you. We’re not the only ones.”

  Gage stopped and looked back at him.

  “NOPD’s finest have been on your tail more than once, and there are others. Seems everybody’s got an interest in you and Mr. Blanchard’s daughter.”

  Gage sucked in a deep breath. So he was right. He’d thought several times he was being followed and took evasive maneuvers to shake them.

  He shook his head, strode back to Mia’s car, and got behind the wheel.

  How was he supposed to explain all this to Mia?

  CHAPTER 18

  ‡

  Mia stayed inside the bank lobby until she got Jessica’s text that she was waiting outside. Mia quickly walked out the front door to the car and slipped into the passenger seat.

  “How did it go?” Jessica asked as she nosed the car into traffic like a born city driver.

  “I think he’s wondering about every moment Abney’s been in his home with his wife when he wasn’t present. He’ll probably be asking some pointed questions at the next board meeting as well.”

  “Good. I hope they kick Abney off the board.”

  “Me too. But money speaks louder than being a sexual deviant. The bank will make allowances for him because he’s rich and they want him to invest his money in their operation.”

  “Let’s hope they draw the line at allowing him to extort money or favors from their customers. That will get them in trouble with the Feds.”

  “Only if their victims come forward to complain.” They pulled into the back parking lot to Promises, and Mia decided to go to her apartment instead of the gallery. She needed a few minutes to shake off the meeting with Clarkson.

  “Would you like to come inside and have some iced tea, Jess? I think Stan and Michelle can handle things for another ten minutes.”

  “Sure.”

  “How do you think Michelle is doing?” she asked as they climbed the stairs.

  “She’s doing well. She’s friendly but doesn’t hover, and she made several sales yesterday.”

  “Great!”

  Mia unlocked the door to the apartment and Jazz rushed to greet them, winding around both their legs. His loud meows sounded very much like he was upset about something. “Yes, I know I left earlier than usual, and I forgot to give you a treat. We’ll take care of that right now.”

  Jess laughed when he darted to the cabinet where his food and treats were stored. Mia got out a plastic container, shook some out in her hand and placed them in his bowl.

  “He seems to understand everything you say to him,” Jess commented.

  Mia went to the sink and washed her hands, then laid out glasses, filled them with ice, and took the tea pitcher out of the refrigerator. “He carries on conversations like he does understand—and expects me to understand every word he says.” She poured the tea and stuck a lemon wedge on the rim of each glass. “He’s a lot of company.”

  “And Gage?”

  “He’s good company too.”

  Jessica had worked for Mia for two years, and though they were friendly, she had never taken Jessica into her confidence about anything other than business dealings. “We were going to move in together in Baton Rouge when I started college. He already had a job lined up, and we’d signed a lease on an apartment.

  “But my brother planted drugs in Gage’s locker at his job and sicced an assistant DA on him, who gave him a choice—leave Louisiana or go to jail. So he broke things off with me and left.”

  “Shit! I’m so sorry, Mia. That sounds like something that would happen on a soap opera.”

  “It does, doesn�
��t it? But it’s true.” She couldn’t mention Jules. “I’ve been given definitive proof by someone in the police department.”

  “And where will you go from here?”

  “I don’t know. He’s in the Navy now, and he’s stationed in California. And I have Promises.” She looked around the room. She worked so hard to build all this, thinking it would make her happy. She even told herself it did, but it was empty without someone to share it with. She’d recognized that long before Gage came back into the picture.

  “You can fly out to see him as much as you can,” Jessica said.

  She couldn’t think about that. She finished her iced tea. “Saturday is Halloween. Have we got things together for the trick-or-treaters? Should I buy more treats?”

  “No. I think we’re covered.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Mia excused herself to find the photo of her brother and mother she usually kept stashed in a drawer and brought it to the kitchen. “I’m going to have to make a booklet of all the people to watch out for to distribute to all the employees.” She held up the photo. “These are my brother and mother. Mason and Camille.”

  Jessica frowned and was silent for several moments. “Your brother is a handsome guy.”

  “Handsome, manipulative, and hard as iron. He never had any interest in me when I was a child. Never looked out for me. He’s never called me to see how I am or if I need anything. Not even when I was in college. Never bought me a gift for my birthday, and he has his secretary buy me my Christmas gift every year. When I was younger, second grade I think, I made him a clay pot and painted it with colors I thought he would like. He was my brother, and I thought we were supposed to like each other. I gave it to him one night at dinner. He asked what the hell he was supposed to do with it and shoved it back at me. I never gave him another gift.”

  Even the night at their mother’s table he’d only gotten up to check on her because his assistant was upset. “Once, when I was sixteen and had just gotten my license, my car broke down on the interstate and I called to ask him to send a tow truck. He told me to put on my big girl panties and figure it out for myself. I’m just lucky police officer stopped and called a wrecker for me before rush hour.