by Morgan James
“Have you found another job yet?”
Her gaze flicked to mine, then away again. “Not yet.”
I nodded. “Okay. I have a couple interviews set up for later this week. Getting another body in here should help take some of the stress off your shoulders. I know you’re dealing with a lot right now.”
She shot me a begrudging look. “Thanks.”
“Of course. I appreciate your help around here, but I won’t tolerate disrespect, Gwen, even from my best employees.”
She dropped her head. “Sorry,” she grumbled.
“Enjoy your lunch, and I’ll get Andrea settled when she gets here.”
Gwen nodded, then took off. I shook my head as I watched her. I wanted to ask about her boyfriend, the one she hadn’t mentioned until just recently. Worry niggled at me. I didn’t want her to lose herself trying to make him happy. But Gwen was a grown woman, free to make her own choices. If she came to me, I’d offer my advice. Otherwise, I’d just keep my mouth shut and not interfere.
I gathered Andrea’s dress from the back room and hung it in the fitting room. I smiled as I caught myself humming again, and I warmed from the inside as I thought of Xander and how much my life had changed in just a couple short weeks. I wasn’t sure what the future held, but I found that the annulment he’d offered me no longer held any appeal. Maybe we could make this work, after all.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Xander
I steered into Mickelson’s driveway and parked in front of the mammoth white mansion.
“Jesus,” Cole muttered from the back seat. “I picked the wrong profession.”
My thoughts mirrored Cole’s words. Who the hell needed a house like this? Three stories high, the house had to be at least six thousand square feet, and I hadn’t even seen the rest of it. We climbed out of the standard issue white van, which that very morning had been decaled with the cable company’s logo.
We needed to get cameras inside the house and around the property before this week’s auction. Mickelson had managed to secure an invite, and the plan was for him to bid up an item until he won, then secure delivery. Hopefully, if it went anything like the last time he made a purchase, they would deliver the item right to his door. Getting the license plates on video was mandatory, but it would be an added bonus to get glimpses of the men’s faces. If we could identify one or more of them, get them out to the public, the house of cards will hopefully start to fall. Once one of them started talking, they were bound to roll on the person in charge.
We still hadn’t seen anything suspicious over at Oliver’s shop, and he hadn’t contacted Kingsley. Richter had been calling Con on a daily basis checking in and generally giving him hell, and everyone was getting antsy. The police would handle the sting, but we had been commissioned to at least install the cameras. They could do whatever they wanted with the information they obtained. Jason was still ass-deep in trying to trace the source of the auctions but wasn’t having any success.
Dressed in navy blue jumpsuits similar to what the cable company employees wore, we made our way toward the house, and I knocked on the giant oak door. Mickelson opened it seconds later, his shifty eyes surveying the area before opening the door the whole way. I didn’t trust the asshole as far as I could throw him, but he was our only source right now. If this fell through, I wasn’t sure what our next move would be. I was leaving that shit up to the local officers, though.
We got to work under the guise of setting up new cable and internet service for Mickelson. After unhooking the ladder from the carrying rack on top of the van, Cole headed off, scouting the best place to hook up the cameras. Once we had our placements marked, it took less than an hour to attach the cameras and run the wiring to the feed.
Next, I located the computer in Mickelson’s office and used the landline to call Jason.
“Ready for that IP address?”
“Go.”
I rattled it off while Jason worked his magic in the background. This would allow him to access Mickelson’s computer remotely during the auction so we could try to track down the source.
“All good.”
I moved away from the desk. “How does the feed look?”
He paused for a moment. “Camera two needs to move left ten degrees.”
I relayed the info to Cole, who made the adjustment, then spoke to Jason again. “Better?”
“All good on my side.”
I hung up and gathered my things to go. All we needed was one good lead to work with, and we’d follow it until we found the origin point. The police were determined to nail the perps responsible, and I couldn’t blame them. A lot of the wealthy members of the community who’d suffered from the recent burglaries were out for blood, screaming for justice. The locals were doing everything they could, but they didn’t have the manpower or resources. But we did. Con had somehow worked out a deal with them—we’d pick up the slack in exchange for some leniency. After the incident with Blake’s girlfriend last week, they seemed to hop on board pretty damn quick, knowing that QSG would uphold our end of the bargain and help in any way we could.
We secured the ladder to the rails on top of the van and loaded all of the extra wiring and accessories in the back, taking one last covert look around to make sure nothing—and no one—was out of place. We now had several high-powered cameras covering the exterior of the house, from the main point of entry, vantage points from both ends of the property, as well as another angled toward the side of the lot. The vantage points all crossed paths at some point, so there was no space left unseen. If someone showed up, we’d see him.
We drove the van back to the body shop and dropped it off, leaving the keys on the back tire. Tomorrow morning, the owner would strip all the lettering off, and no one would be the wiser. Grabbing the stuff from the back, I shoved it in the back of Cole’s truck, and we headed back to QSG.
It’d been a hell of a week with not a whole hell of a lot of answers, but I was hopeful—in more ways than one. It might take a bit of doing to trace the person—either his face or license plate—but it was a start.
That wasn’t the only thing I looked forward to. I’d been spending as much time as possible with Lydia and Alexia—and loving every minute of it. Each touch, each kiss we’d shared seemed to lower her defenses and lift her self-confidence. I would damn well show her how much I appreciated her and how fucking perfect she was for me.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Lydia
I spread out the train, the scalloped edging looking like tiny flowers against the pale blue carpet. It was a masterpiece, and a warmth infused my heart. The bride fairly glowed, gushing about how much she loved it.
I grinned at her. “I’m glad you like it.”
I heard the jingle of the bell over the door, but I didn’t bother to see who had just come in. Brenda was up front; I’d let her take care of it.
I gave Macy a quick hug. “Why don’t you go take this off, and we’ll steam it before you take it home.”
She beamed at me, then headed into the dressing room to change. Brenda appeared at my shoulder, and I turned to her. “Did you see how well Macy’s gown turned out?”
“Oh, um... yes.”
The concern on Brenda’s face finally registered, and I turned to fully face her. “What’s wrong?”
She wrung her hands together. “There are two men here to see you.”
“Oh?” I couldn’t imagine who it could be. Every once in a great while, guys would wander in here looking for tuxedos or suits for special occasions. “Send them back.”
“It’s... they’re...” She trailed off and threw a look over her shoulder toward the front of the salon. “They’re officers.”
I jerked back. “Like the police?”
She nodded shakily. “They want to speak with you.”
“Okay.” I floundered for a moment. Was this about the break-in last week? Or, worse, maybe Caryn? She’d contacted a lawyer about her contract, but I’d shut him down,
explaining that it was a done deal. He’d agreed that there were no loopholes, and I thought we’d let it go. Was Caryn trying to force my hand on something? I let out a sigh. “Send them to my office, please, then take care of Macy.”
Brenda bobbed her head, then hurried off. Macy strode out of the dressing room a moment later and handed over her gown. “Thank you so much,” she gushed.
“Oh, it was my pleasure,” I assured her. “I’m going to have Gwen steam your gown, and Brenda will settle your bill.”
With a parting hug, I hauled the dress back to the alterations room and passed it to Gwen. “Could you do a quick steam on this? Macy’s waiting, and she wants to take it with her.”
“Sure.” She slipped the dress from my fingers and hung it on the rack.
“If you could take it to her when you’re done, I’d appreciate it. I have a meeting in my office.”
“Of course.”
I met Brenda and the two police officers as I exited the alterations room. “Hello, gentlemen. Follow me, if you would.”
I entered the office and gestured for them to follow. Once the door was closed, I leaned a hip against my desk. “What can I help with?”
“Are you acquainted with a Mrs. Darlene Henderson?”
“I am. Is everything okay?”
“She sustained a head injury this afternoon and is currently being transported to the medical facility for further examination.”
“Oh, God. Is she okay? I mean...” It hit me, then. “She has my daughter. Darlene watches her during the day and... What hospital did you say they were at? I need to get over there.”
I immediately moved to grab my purse, but the officer stopped me with his next words. “Actually, miss, we’d like to speak with you about that.”
“What’s that?”
“You said you left your daughter in Mrs. Henderson’s care?”
“That’s right.” Unease slithered down my spine. “She watches her during the day while I’m here. She’s my next-door neighbor and landlord. She’s become kind of a grandmother figure for Alexia—my daughter.”
“Is there anyone you might know that would want to hurt Darlene or yourself?”
“Me?” My hand fluttered to my throat. “N-no, I don’t think so. And I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt Darlene intentionally. She’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met. She’d give you the shirt off her back if you needed it.”
The officer nodded. “There was a break-in here last week, is that right?”
I folded my hands to keep them from trembling. “Yes, but I don’t believe they took anything. Everything we inventoried turned out to be correct.”
“We believe you may have been the primary target. I’m sorry to tell you this, but your daughter was taken from the scene.”
What the hell did that mean? Panic and fear crawled up my throat. “So they took her to the hospital, right?”
“No, ma’am.” He shook his head hesitantly. “We believe she was abducted.”
Chapter Forty
Xander
I strode through the salon, focused on one thing: finding Lydia. The fear and sadness in her voice had nearly broken me. I’d been sitting at the conference table at QSG when the call came through, and she’d uttered those awful words that played on loop the whole way here. “Please come. It’s...”
It’s what?
She hadn’t been able to finish, her sobs filtering through the line, breaking my heart. One of the officers on scene with her had introduced himself and asked me to come to the salon but refused to give me more information over the phone.
My feet carried me through the room, my head still foggy, my heart in my throat. I threw open the door to her office. Lydia was pacing the small room, her hands tangled in her hair. “We’re wasting time! We need to do something!”
I took in her aggravated posture, the anger in her eyes—underlined by sheer terror. “Lydia?”
She met my gaze, turbulence swirling in the gray depths. Her eyes filled with tears and her face went slack as her legs gave out and she sank to the floor. “Oh, God... Xander.”
I hit my knees in front of her, already pulling her into my arms. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Talk to me.”
“It’s... She’s...” Her voice broke, and sobs racked her body as she let out a keening cry.
I threw a beseeching glance at one of the officers. He had a familiar face, but I didn’t recognize the name. “Childress?”
His gaze dropped to the QSG logo embroidered on my sleeve and let out a beleaguered sigh. “We have reason to believe your daughter was abducted this morning.”
If I wasn’t already sitting on the floor with Lydia in my arms, his words would’ve knocked me flat on my ass. “What the hell are you talking about? She’s at home with—”
Lydia’s head shook frantically against my shoulder. “She’s gone.”
Cold seeped into my bones. “Who? And where the fuck did they take her? Someone had to have seen something!”
“We’ve issued an Amber Alert,” the second officer, Grimes, piped up. “They’re canvassing the neighborhood right now, looking for her and questioning the neighbors.”
Rage swelled up inside me. “Start from the beginning.”
The officers explained that Darlene had been in the backyard, and it seemed that she was attacked just as she was allegedly taking Alexia inside for her nap.
“When we arrived on the scene, Mr. Henderson told us he’d heard a commotion and went to investigate,” Childress stated. “He found Mrs. Henderson, but there was no sign of Alexia.”
A cold fury enveloped my body. I hated the detached-sounding words they were throwing around. This was just another case to them, not a person. However, I was relying on a professional courtesy since QSG worked so closely with the local precincts.
“Tell us what we can do. We’ll print off some fliers, hit the streets.”
The younger cop nodded. “Appeal to everyone. As Grimes stated earlier, we’ve issued an Amber Alert and notified all the surrounding counties. We’ve also posted on social media to try to get her name and face out there as much as possible. Someone is bound to see her and call in.”
I felt heartsick, and I watched as Lydia straightened. “We need to do this now. Isn’t this how it works? The first day is the most important?”
The younger cop hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, ma’am. If we don’t—” He stopped himself abruptly and seemed to change his wording. “It’s imperative we hit the ground running.”
“Then let’s go.” Lydia peeled herself from my arms and stood. Gone was the pitiful mess she’d been just moments ago. In her place was a woman with a backbone of steel, determined to get her daughter back no matter what it took. A ferocity entered her features, determination to protect her child. Our child.
I wanted to scream, to yell and throw things—but that wouldn’t bring Alexia back. We needed to start at the beginning and follow the trail. The cops were already investigating the neighbors. I was calling in everyone else I knew. We needed feet on the ground and Jason’s eagle eye in the sky, checking every possible camera from the surrounding areas.
I stood and squeezed Lydia’s hand. She flinched at my touch, her face an emotionless mask. “We’ll find her.”
She didn’t meet my eyes. All I got was a slight shake of her head.
Pulling out my cell, I dialed Con. “Yeah?”
“We’re coming in. Got a situation.”
His voice was cautious. “Does this have anything to do with the Amber Alert that was just issued?”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah.” Hearing Con say it aloud hit me hard, made it more real. I was glad news was spreading quickly, though—that was a good sign.
“Fuck. I’d hoped I was wrong, but when I heard the name...”
My fingers clenched around the phone. “Be there in twenty.”
Lydia mechanically gathered her things, and I led her from the salon, her eyes focused straight ahead. I met Brenda’s curious
gaze and gave a slight shake of my head. I’d fill her in later. She seemed to understand, because her eyes widened a fraction and her hand moved over her chest.
Lydia remained quiet as I hustled her into the truck. Lost in our own thoughts, we remained silent the whole way to QSG. When we pulled into the parking lot behind the brick building, she finally spoke up. “Where are we?”
“QSG headquarters. This is where I work.”
She didn’t react; she just climbed out of the truck and strode determinedly toward the front door. I was barely a step behind, and Con met us as soon as we entered. “This way.”
We filed into the large bullpen type area, where several faces glanced up at us, varying degrees of hesitation and pity in their expressions. Con’s little sister, Abby, stood beside a commercial copy machine that was spewing out papers. She picked one up, then held it out to me, and I slipped it from her fingers.
Alexia’s face stared back at me, QSG’s number listed along the bottom of the flier with all of her personal information. Lydia gripped my forearm, her nails digging into my skin as she peered over at the flier. Her body swayed the tiniest bit, and I looped one arm around her waist to steady her. Her entire body went rigid, and she held herself away from me, turning to meet Con’s dark gaze.
“What’s your plan?”
He didn’t dance around the subject, just cut straight to the chase. “As soon as these are done, I’m putting guys in each district, starting closest to your home and working our way outward. We’re joining forces with the PD to interview anyone we can in the hopes that someone saw or heard something. In the middle of the day, there has to be something.” Lydia nodded stiffly, and Con continued. “You may want to consider a press conference. I spoke with the captain, who said the PD can get that organized for you by tomorrow morning.”
