Bleeding Edge: Elliot Security (Elliot Security Series Book 2)

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Bleeding Edge: Elliot Security (Elliot Security Series Book 2) Page 2

by Evie Mitchell


  He shrugged off his jacket while moving to straddle one of my bar stools.

  “Sounds good.”

  I set the kettle to boil and opened my dinner bag, munching on a still warm chip.

  As the water heated, I turned, leaning back against the kitchen bench opposite Luc. I picked up my burger, taking a big bite. He watched me, a slight wrinkle between his eyes.

  “What?” I asked, swallowing.

  Luc raised an eyebrow. “Why this place?”

  The kettle whistled, and I set about making our drinks.

  “You know.” I shrugged, back to him. “It’s cheap and close to everything.” I splashed one sugar and a dash of milk into his coffee.

  “Cheap? I do your evaluations. I know how much I pay you.” He said it teasingly, but there was an undercurrent.

  I handed him the mug, then retreated to the other side of my kitchen, blowing a little on the tea as I avoided his eyes.

  “Everyone needs money, Luc. Even me.” I dodged his actual question.

  After a long silence, he shrugged, changing the subject. “You’ve got a freaking huge TV.”

  I grinned. It had taken me two years to decide to buy it.

  “All the better to get my geek on,” I teased back.

  Luc stood, moving to look over my DVD collection. I chewed another few chips, watching.

  My collection took up half of one wall. The other half held my book collection alphabetised by author and series. Comic books were the bottom half of the bookshelf, novels the top.

  “Got anything I’d like?”

  I had to think. “Depends. I do action, I don’t do horror.”

  “I do action.”

  I sat the remains of my burger on the counter, dusting my hands on my jean leg as I moved to the wall of epic DVD-ness and started sifting through my series.

  “Hmm… animated sci-fi?” I glanced over, and he shook his head.

  “I do Saturday morning cartoons, that’s as far as I go.”

  “Right,” I murmured, looking back through my collection. “What about Saturday night cartoons?”

  “So long as it’s not some Star Trek shit, I’m open to it.”

  I laughed. “You’d like it if you tried it! Here, it’s an adult cartoon. Archer. Heard of it?”

  He shook his head.

  “It’s one of my favourite series. It’s hilarious and action and reminds me of our workplace sometimes. Short and sweet, only a few seasons so far. You may like it.”

  Luc laughed as he looked at the cover. “Boobs, guns, and explosions? I’m in.”

  “Speaking of explosions. Thanks again for tonight. Sorry you had to get involved.”

  His face darkened. “I hope that woman leaves the dick. Shit like that, it pisses me off.”

  Warmth pooled in my belly. “Me too.”

  “You did good, Emmie. Handled yourself real well.”

  The warmth expanded.

  You need to tell him.

  Tomorrow. I’ll tell him tomorrow. I promised myself.

  “Anyways.” I fluttered my hands about, suddenly flustered. “It’s getting late. I’m sure you have places to go, people to see, women to kiss.” The last bit accidentally popped out. I immediately blushed.

  Smooth. Real smooth there, Emmie.

  A grin stole across his lips, and his brilliant blue eyes darkened just a hint. He leaned in slowly. “No to the first two, maybe to–”

  His phone interrupted him. I jumped away, unsuccessfully trying to hide the blush burning up my neck, colouring my cheeks. Swearing, Luc pulled the mobile out and pressed the screen.

  “Luc.”

  He jerked upright, body shifting to alert.

  “You are fucking kidding me.” He paused, listening. “Shit. Who do you need?” His head swung to me. “I’ve got her here.” Another pause. “No, I followed her home after some jerk grabbed her in the bar.” His eyes raked me up and down, and a small smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, she does. Okay. We’ll be there in thirty.” He hit the end button and slipped it back into his pocket. “Declan.”

  Declan had the night shift at Elliot Securities.

  “That dick Rueben, from Grosford and Sons?”

  I had to think for a moment. “The one we’re tracking for embezzlement?”

  “That’s him. Grosford just got the call. His money is gone. Declan’s calling us in.”

  “Damn!” I headed for my purse. “Goddamn it! I wanted to sleep tonight.”

  I moved to grab my keys, but Luc stopped me.

  “No time. You ride with me.”

  “But–”

  “I’ll drop you home. Let’s go.”

  Chapter Two

  Emmie

  “Goddamn, Rueben!” It had quickly become the phrase of the day.

  Grosford and Sons was a small company who assisted older Australians with their savings. They looked after people’s financial situation when they got too old and had no family to assist them. Grosford and Sons were known for their honesty and integrity.

  Mr Grosford, a man now in his early sixties, had started the company thirty years earlier after watching a close friend of his mother lose her savings. She’d had dementia, and with no family and not wanting to burden her friends with her affairs, she’d trusted a “financial expert.” They’d taken her money and disappeared. Mr Grosford had spent his own money looking after the friend until her death.

  During our investigation, I’d found other accounts Mr Grosford had topped up. The accounts were all of people without family, who without his generous support, would be turned out of their care facilities. There were times when working on a case you met some real horrible people. Mr Grosford and his sons were sincere. When I’d reported my findings to Luc, he’d agreed. This case was personal.

  Rueben had been an employee for twenty years and skimming money for fifteen. We’d been called in because the idiot had gotten greedy. I’d put a bug on the Grosford accounts. I’d tracked the money to a foreign bank two months ago. We’d known Rueben was planning a big move, but thought he’d have another week. The idiot had gotten wind of our involvement, freaked, and moved early. The bug had done its job, alerting Grosford and us to Rueben’s sudden change of plans.

  I’d been up all night, powered by 3:00 a.m. chocolate and copious amounts of soda. It was now after midday, and I’d tracked the bastard to a small airport where he’d attempted to use some of the many millions to buy a one-way ticket to Fiji. God knows where he’d jump off to next if he managed to get there. I hit my headphone. “Luc?”

  “Yo.”

  “Looks like he’s hiring a private jet at St Paul’s. I’ve contacted the airport. They’re delaying the flight due to ‘mechanical issues.’ Is an hour long enough to get the police involved?”

  “We’re on it.” He disconnected the call, and I sat back, rubbing my eyes. In another hour or two, I’d be handing my research over to the police. Fingers crossed, by then the scum-of-the-earth dickwad would be in custody, and eventually these people would get their money back. Job well done.

  I headed to the bathroom. I splashed water on my face, glancing at the mirror. It didn’t reflect a pretty picture. By this stage, I’d been awake for close to thirty hours. Greasy limp ash-blond hair, bloodshot eyes circled by angry dark smudges.

  I patted my face dry and headed back to my desk. The Nucleus had the second floor to ourselves. There were only eight of us, but we liked space. A physical manifestation of our introversion perhaps? We’d turned our space into a shrine to geek. A Lego town sat under construction in the middle of the room, Nerf guns lined the walls, and a life-sized Dalek took up one of the corners. Posters of various memes with “All the baddies!” or “I can haz cheezburger?” hung on the walls.

  While the company was an equal opportunity employer, currently only three women worked at head office - Addie, me, and another woman, Kel, who worked for the investigation side of the business. A slim red-head, Kel made Miranda Kerr look like the pl
ain stepsister.

  I stood swaying in the door to my floor. Foam suction-tipped bullets flew as my colleagues ducked under tables, hid behind desks, and barrel-rolled while firing Nerf guns, shouting taunts. I’d normally be up for a match, but right now I wanted sleep. All the sleeps.

  I turned and headed for the down room. Located on the fourth floor, the large room was a mish-mash of gym equipment and a lounge area complete with massive TV and couches. An Xbox, PlayStation, and DVDs sat on a massive entertainment unit and ready for a moment’s notice. I found it, thankfully, empty.

  Flopping face down on one of the couches, I grunted as my body bounced slightly on impact. Still face down, I blindly reached for the coffee table, feeling around for the stereo remote. I hit the play button, shifted to Emmie’s relaxation mix, and promptly fell asleep.

  I woke to the boys from One Direction singing about hearts, and a hand gently turning me on my side. The chorus thumped out as Luc crouched beside the couch, smiling down at me while gently rubbing my shoulder.

  “I don’t know why these 1D boys are singing about carrying anyone.”

  I blinked up at him, confused by both his statement and appearance.

  “They wouldn’t be able to carry a bag of flour, let alone another human. They do not even lift, bro.”

  I laughed a little, reaching up to rub my dry eyes.

  “You’ve been holding out on me.” He sounded amused.

  “Hmm?” I struggled to sit, stretching and yawning as I valiantly tried to shake the drowsy cloud of my nap.

  “You’re a romantic.”

  I shrugged, stifling another yawn. “Isn’t everyone?”

  “Come on you. Let’s go.” He tugged my hands, pulling me up and off the couch. I stumbled into his chest, and he absorbed me, hands settling briefly on my hips. I looked up at him. He grinned, reaching a hand up to brush a chunk of my hair behind my ear. I flushed, quickly stepping back.

  Luc dropped his hand. “I swung by home and picked up the Alfa. You can sleep on the way.”

  We headed outside to a sky painted in deep pinks and purple as the sun set. “Crap. How long did I sleep?”

  Luc smirked. “About five hours. The boys were about to kill you if they heard another prepubescent song about love.”

  I shrugged, getting in the car. “I like happy endings. Love songs make me happy. They’re relaxing and have great melody.”

  “Next time? Fall asleep to a mix longer than an hour.”

  I shrugged again and snuggled into the side of the door. “Did you get him?”

  Luc barked out a laugh, short, sharp, and unamused. “Yeah, we got him. The cops are questioning him now. I grabbed the stuff you sent through and provided the file notes. The Grosfords should recover their money soon enough.”

  “Good. I like it when we get the bad guys.”

  He chuckled. “Same.”

  Chapter Three

  Emmie

  A reasonably uneventful week followed the closure of the Grosford case. Lots of paperwork and interviews with the police, a few written testimonies and walking through my evidence-collection methods. The usual things I did following a case closure. The only abnormal occurrence was the introduction of one Ms Jetta Oliver.

  As in, Jetta Oliver, daughter of rock legends who’d tragically died, sister to Courtney Oliver the current top-of-the-charts pop princess. Jetta Oliver, lyricist to the stars. That Jetta Oliver.

  Addie had been purposefully vague about why Ms Oliver was at Elliot Securities. Despite our best efforts, she’d only dropped enough hints for us to piece together that Jetta and Paxton Elliot - owner of Elliot Securities- had romantic history and Jetta had gotten into trouble. Pax considered the situation serious enough that he’d moved her into his house. The gossip mill was going crazy chewing over the mystery.

  Saturday night saw me sliding onto a seat at Eighty-six. Diners chatted, orders were called from the open kitchen which ran along one wall, and people chatted while watching the chefs work. Big blackboards took up the other walls with large white letters proclaiming the specials. The place had great share food and drinks alcoholic enough to make you tipsy with one sip.

  I volunteered as designated driver, having stopped to pick up Jarrett, one of my closest friends at Elliot Securities, Kel, and Addie before heading in. We were all seated and waiting when Luc walked in with Pax’s blast from the past. Cute tight skirt, silk top with just a hint of cleavage, ankle boot heels, and styled hair, Jetta Oliver looked like a curvier, edgier Taylor Swift. As Jetta introduced herself, the hair on the back of my neck lifted. Automatically my hand curled into a fist under the table as I slowly shifted, casually checking my exit pathways as I searched for the danger. I found only Luc’s eyes on me. I relaxed, unclenching my fist and wiping my sweaty palm against my jeans.

  “Are you staying for the gossip?” I teased, watching a smile play at the corners of his mouth.

  Luc shook his head. “I’ll be at the bar.” We all watched as he walked off, his butt looking phenomenal in his jeans. Kel sighed heavily. “If I didn’t work with that boy…”

  She turned back to the table, winking at Jetta as she held out a hand. “I’m Kel.”

  Addie scoffed, rolling her eyes. “That’s a shitty greeting. Here.”

  She waved a hand at me. “That’s Emmie, she’s a hacker. Emmie is our go-to, she can do pretty much anything with computers. You need IT support? This girl is it! She’s responsible for background checking all my boyfriends.” I blushed and look down at the table. I couldn’t deny her claims because, alas, I’d screened the last three of Addie’s boyfriends and vetoed all of them. She had truly atrocious taste in men.

  “This,” Addie continued, sweeping a hand towards Kel, “is Kel. Kel is our undercover sis-ta. Pax hired her for her looks, but also her kick arse-ness. Complete bad arse.”

  Kel chuckled. “I just like the pay. It keeps me in designer cars.”

  I watched as Jetta laughed along with the table.

  Addie gestured to the lone guy in our group. “And this, my darling, is Jarrett Shannon McKinnon the third. He’s half Maori, half Scottish.”

  Jarrett reached over and clasped one of Jetta’s hands, drawing it to his lips and pressing a kiss against her knuckles. “Absolutely charmed.”

  We kept the conversation light, sounding each other out. We chatted, savouring delicious food, and I watched as they drank, getting loose and laughing a lot. I found myself relaxing, warming to this new person. Despite her intimidating background, Jetta shunned the spotlight in favour of normality.

  “I mean, it helps that I’m petrified of performing. Stage fright barely describes what I suffer.” Jetta chuckled.

  I stole glances at Luc throughout the night, watching as he laughed with the waitresses at the bar where he ate his meal, one eye on the door the other on Jetta.

  I hadn’t had a chance to talk to Luc. Despite my best promises, I hadn’t handed in my notice.

  You’re only delaying the inevitable. Time’s ticking.

  Over dinner Jetta revealed her everlasting love for Paxton Elliot and solved the mystery of her sudden appearance. It involved her sister, Courtney, who’d amassed a significant drug debt (now in rehab thanks to Pax), their dead parents, and a mob boss looking for his money.

  The whole thing sounded like something out of a Tarantino film or a soap opera. It definitely put my problems into perspective.

  Monday. You’re telling him Monday.

  We were debating dessert when the first bullet punched through the glass panelling at the front of the restaurant. I heard the gunshot, and without thinking, started to move. I clocked Luc at the bar, our eyes meeting as the second shot shattered the glass frontage. The restaurant’s jovial atmosphere splintered as Luc yelled, “GET DOWN!”

  Panicked customers screamed and bolted, others ducked as the bullets kept coming. Luc crouched, hand going to the pistol at his hip as he moved towards us. I spun, throwing myself at Jetta, pushing her to the floor. I
pulled my hands up to cover my head as I spread my body protectively over her.

  I couldn’t hear past the deafening sound of the guns and the crack of wood, glass, and plaster as bullets hit walls, floor, and furniture. To cover Jetta, I’d twisted away from Jarrett, Kel, and Addie. I couldn’t see if they were hurt. I screwed my eyes shut and prayed.

  “Emmie.” Jetta’s hands clutched at my shirt as something hot and brutal tore through my body. A red haze clouded my vision as pain in my side radiated outwards, immeasurable in its agony.

  I swore, as a second bullet arched across my thigh. I felt the gush of wetness from both areas as utter agony exploded across my left side. The shots abruptly halted as the getaway car screeched away, leaving behind an eerie silence.

  A woman to our left began screaming. It broke the strange stillness, sending customers scrambling for the door, screaming, shouting, shoving each other in their haste. Feet stomped on me, people tripped over my prone body as they heedlessly raced to safety. I heard Luc yell but I didn’t look up until Addie and Luc crouched beside me, Kel and Jarrett standing protectively above.

  Addie rolled me, and I groaned, barely registering her questions. The excruciating pain in my side radiated out from my hip and down my leg. I bit my cheek, tasting blood, desperately trying to stem the urge to scream.

  I fell on my back, my breathing ragged as I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears from my eyes and struggling against panic. I turned my head, watching as Jetta scrambled to her knees. “Jetta?”

  “I’m okay. I’m, I’m fine. You protected me.” She sat up, running shaking hands down her body. She reached out clasping her fingers in mine. “I’m fine.”

  “Good.” The world spun slightly as I tried to breathe through the pain. My eyelids lowered. “I’m gonna sleep now.” My voice sounded off, heavy.

  A strong hand gripped my wrist, checking my pulse as another started roaming my body.

  “Don’t you fucking dare! Emmie, open your eyes and look at me!”

  Unable to resist his demands I met Luc’s gaze. “When did you get here?”

 

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