Dangerously Involved Page 14

  “What were you doing up there?” Theodore peered over his shoulder, his smile spreading into a grin. “Wow. That’s a look.”

  “Screw you.” She took his coffee from him and sipped the brew.

  “What’s gotten into you this morning?” He stood there, watching her with amusement behind his eyes.

  “Nothing.” The taste of the bitter drink sat on her tongue. She took another, greedy gulp.

  “Nothing my ass.” He turned, and they both stared at the old house. “You’re getting stir crazy sis. If you need to get out of here, I’ll cover for you.”

  “Would you have to?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mom’s focused on Doug. Dad’s always on his phone. Would anyone notice if I just...left?” She passed the coffee back to her brother.

  “I would. You’d really leave me alone with this circus?” He took the cup and sipped it.

  “You do just fine.”

  “Only because I’ve got you around. We’re the only two sane people in this bunch.” He gestured at a nearby bench. “Sit?”

  Had Theodore come looking for her?

  She’d assumed he’d happened on her shoes or something, maybe seen her from the house. Curious she followed him to a wooden bench with a brass plaque commemorating some long gone family member.

  “Mom’s got that Grimaldi glint in her eye.” Theodore didn’t look at her. He studied the lawn, the trees, the house. “I’m worried she’s up to something.”

  “It’s Doug. You know she’s not going to let anything happen to him.”

  “Yeah, and that’s what I’m worried about. Dad’s twisted around. At first he was all for going to the cops or whoever, but now that Mom and the lawyers have their hooks in him he’s conflicted.”

  Yvonne sighed.

  This was how things went.

  Dad’s instinct was to do the right thing. The honorable thing. Very often either meant doing something that cost money or came with repercussions. But Mom had been raised to protect. To fix. They solved problems in two very different ways. And where Dad lead with his heart, Mom led with her sense of family first. When those didn’t align, Mom won because Dad loved Mom in a way that defied logic. For all their faults, they’d always been the example of what love could do. How it could make a person see past everything else. After all, Mom had defied her own family for the sake of loving a man running a tech start-up all those years ago.

  Yvonne and Theodore sat in silence, soaking up the dreary day.

  “You okay?” He glanced at her then and passed the coffee back.

  “Not really.” She considered his earlier offer. “I might need to get away from all this for a bit, if you’re serious?”

  “Anything for you, Vee. You are my rock. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  She slid her arm into the crook of his elbow and leaned her head on his shoulder. For all of Theodore’s faults, he’d always been her older brother. The one she could count on. In the very near future she might need him a whole lot more if Mom turned Yvonne out.

  WEDNESDAY. LOCATION, Kyoto, Japan.

  Samuel locked his office door before tapping on the email his contact had sent him. Assuming control of the company was going relatively smoothly now that he had a few crucial people on his side. His next steps had to be about protecting himself.

  So far he’d managed to eliminate those Yakuza who knew he was their intended target, not Sato. The Lyme employees were pathetic pencil pushers that had the unfortunate luck to find themselves indebted to the wrong people.

  That left only one loose end.

  The drone.

  He skimmed the email then tapped the attachment.

  A document popped up. He turned the phone sideways for a better view of the images detailing the personal security and surveillance drone. The very one someone had used to kill his brother.

  The tech specs were most important. He’d already seen how well it shot bullets.

  There.

  A full grid listed out the spectrum of image and—fuck me—video capability. Another section detailed the audio quality, field of vision and transmission distance.

  Samuel had to get that drone back. He couldn’t afford to have that video floating around out there. Not when he’d finally achieved what he truly wanted.

  He’d have to kill this Douglas Krieger and anyone else who might know about the video. But this wasn’t the kind of job he could entrust to others. He had to do this right. Himself. With a small team he could trust.

  WEDNESDAY. GRIMALDI Place, Chevy Chase, MD.

  Nolan shoved the door to the guest house open a little too hard. It banged against the kitchen wall, causing dishes in the china cabinet to rattle. He winced and gently shut the glass-paned door. He couldn’t storm around like this simply because he was pissed at himself for speaking his mind.

  “Wow there.” Riley stood in the kitchen with two duffle bags in hand staring at Nolan.

  “Wow yourself.” Nolan wiped his feet on the mat by the door.

  “Someone’s in a mood.” Riley set the two bags down on the breakfast table.

  “Go fuck yourself.”

  “You’re saying a lot of that lately, cranky pants.”

  Nolan yanked the fridge open and grabbed a bottle of water. He needed something to do that wasn’t talking to people. Besides, Riley was the last person Nolan wanted to talk to right now. Riley and Erin were so damn happy it was sickening. Nolan didn’t know what he was to Yvonne or why the whole thing bothered him.

  They had amazing chemistry in bed. She was a smart, beautiful woman. But Nolan wasn’t in the market for a girlfriend let alone a wife, and Yvonne deserved someone who would hang the moon and stars for her. But he wasn’t that person.

  Riley grinned and held up his hands. “As much as I’m enjoying this pissy little show you’re putting on, I think you should know the guys back in Seattle finished running their activity report on the family’s recent travel.”

  “What?” Nolan stared at Riley and felt the tick tick tick of a bomb about to go off.

  “You...?” Riley opened and closed his mouth a few times. His brows rose and then his eyes widened. “You were asleep. Fuck.”

  “What?” Nolan took a step toward Riley. Did they know? And so what if they did? Except Yvonne needed that privacy. He’d been shitty to her. Made her lose a shoe even.

  “Grant was worried we weren’t paying attention to a threat right under our nose so he had Zain task the guys back home with putting together a three month timeline of all their travel. You know, so we’d know if they came into contact with a sleeper threat.”

  Oh, fuck.

  Nolan hadn’t any reason to hide his Vegas trip from the others.

  He stood there, studying Riley.

  “How much do they know?” Nolan asked.

  “That question tells me a lot.” Riley grinned at him.

  “Stop fucking around and tell me, damn it.”

  “Hey, I’m just passing along what the others know. You and the Kriegers were staying at the same hotel in Vegas on the same weekend. That’s it. But judging by that sour face I’m guessing it went farther than that.”

  Nolan dragged his hand across his mouth.

  How much did he admit to?

  Yvonne wouldn’t want anyone to know. He was her secret.

  A figure stepped into the doorway to the kitchen.

  Nolan glanced up and met Grant’s hard stare.

  “You’re back.” He nodded toward the formal dining room. “We’re meeting now, then you and Vaughn are hitting the sack.”

  Riley hefted the two bags up off the table and walked—more like fled—into the dining room.

  Grant remained in the entry, gaze narrowed.

  Nolan wasn’t keen on admitting anything. Except his private and professional lives had collided in spectacular fashion.

  “Things going to get complicated?” Grant asked.

  “No, sir.” Nolan didn’t choke on the
lie. A minor miracle.

  “I want to know why you didn’t volunteer this information beforehand.”

  “Alcohol, sir.”

  “Stop sir’ing me and give me a straight answer. This job has gotten hairy enough. I don’t want any further surprises.” Grant took a step into the kitchen.

  Nolan shifted his weight to the balls of his feet. “And if I say I was on personal time?”

  Grant took two steps closer and pitched his voice lower. “I will tell you that when personal intersects with professional, it’s not personal anymore. What the fuck, Nolan?”

  “Fuck.” Nolan pivoted away, but there wasn’t anywhere to go except back outside so he swung around to face Grant again. “You can’t tell the family.”

  “You think any of us are going to open our mouths if we don’t have to?” Grant crossed his arms over his chest.

  Nolan knew he could trust the others, he just didn’t like things getting so muddy. Professional and personal should not coexist, but they were.

  “I didn’t know the woman I met in Vegas and our client was the same woman until I met her along with everyone else. I’d rather not explain why. She’s a private person and I don’t fuck around with clients.” At least he hadn’t before yesterday.

  “Okay. Keep it that way. Come on.” Grant strode past Nolan and into the formal dining room.

  Melody was the only one present, and she didn’t seem to have overheard.

  “I’ll get the others,” she said without looking up.

  Nolan took a seat at the table.

  The shoes.

  He pulled out his phone and turned.

  What did he know about women’s shoes?

  They liked things with red soles far outside his budget.

  What had Yvonne worn that night?

  Sparkling dress, next to nothing underneath and—that’s right—strappy black heels. He’d unbuckled them for her when she couldn’t get them off herself.

  Were shoes a good apology present? Was that appropriate?

  Fuck if he knew.

  Vaughn shuffled in, looking like the living dead with how red his eyes were. He’d already changed into basketball shorts and a T-shirt. Brenden and Riley entered together, both dressed in their uniform for this op of slacks and polos followed by Melody. She took up a spot standing across the room from Grant.

  “What are we here for?” Vaughn hid his mouth behind his hand and yawned.

  “To discuss our assets.” Grant tapped a tablet on the table. “The Krieger family is no longer cooperating with us, but our job here hasn’t changed. To that end, we need to know everything we can about each of them.”

  Nolan bit the side of his mouth. He wasn’t going to volunteer what Yvonne had said to him because it was information they already knew and arguments they’d already had. She hadn’t been able to tell him anything the team didn’t already know.

  The family didn’t trust their team.

  11.

  Wednesday. Grimaldi Place, Chevy Chase, MD.

  Yvonne tip toed into the kitchen. She could hear Theodore’s voice echoing off the walls, doing his best to capture the attention of the family. He really was a great brother.

  She grabbed bread, peanut butter, a banana and knife, stacked it on top of her laptop and headed for the stairs. Her to-do list was full of things she couldn’t write down like, find a doctor that wouldn’t tattle on her to her parents.

  Loaded down with her bounty, she scurried across to the rear stair and up to the second floor. She held her breath all the way to her bedroom door and didn’t breathe until she’d ducked inside.

  She dumped her things on the desk then changed back into her pajamas and out of her dusty wrap dress. So much for looking nice enough to escape criticism today. That done, she set about making herself a sandwich.

  Or tried to.

  She got as far as opening the jar of peanut butter before the scent had her stomach churning. Her shaking hands slid on the lid as she twisted it closed again.

  Yvonne had always been sensitive to odor or strong fragrances, but peanut butter? This was getting pretty extreme.

  A single tap at her door was all the warning she got it before it opened and her mother stepped in. Yvonne froze with the peanut butter in hand.

  Mom had ditched her cardigan and wore the blue shift dress. She turned toward Yvonne, smiling far too sweetly.

  “Back in pajamas? Vee, dear, are you still not feeling well?” Mom crossed the room, her cloud of perfume proceeding her, and pressed the back of her hand to Yvonne’s forehead.

  “I’m getting better.” She set the jar down on her desk.

  “Well, you don’t have a fever. I can have someone come to the house if you like?”

  “No, thank you. No need to make that much fuss.” And Yvonne wanted confidentiality she wouldn’t get from the half dozen doctors Mom might call.

  “Always my easy child.” Mom turned and gestured at the window seat. “Sit?”

  She hadn’t mentioned the food, which was expressly forbidden in these rooms.

  What the hell?

  Yvonne’s better sense told her to run, but she couldn’t come up with a reason to explain bolting. She set the peanut butter down and followed her mother to the window.

  Mom reached over and patted Yvonne’s knee. “We do always have to take care of the boys, don’t we?”

  Yvonne’s mouth went dry and her hands clammy.

  “I’m afraid it’s going to fall on us to help Doug this time. Your father is very upset with your brother.” Mom leaned toward Yvonne. “It’s up to us to fix this.”

  “Is that even possible?” And what crazy plan had Mom hatched this time? Yvonne was curious, sort of like a person rubbernecking at a wreck. Except she was along for the ride on this disaster.

  Mom smiled and her eyes lit up. “Of course it is. We can fix anything. All we need to do is go to the police and tell them you were the one doing the Lyme demonstration. Just tell them you let those people take the drone and then they did horrible things with it you’re only now learning about.”

  Yvonne stared at her mother. Was she serious?

  Mom smiled back, her eyes bright and far too many teeth on display.

  “Mom, that’s not logical. All they have to do is look at my schedule—”

  “Don’t make problems.” Mom waved her hand. “They’ll take your story. They’ll be sympathetic. Nothing will happen to you. It’s Doug we have to worry about. With that ugly business over New Year, we have to protect our family.”

  “Why me?” Yvonne blurted.

  Mom blinked at her as though she didn’t understand the question.

  “Why not have Theo do it? Why me?”

  “Don’t be silly.” Mom patted Yvonne’s knee. “Theo can’t be connected. It will look bad for the company.”

  Yvonne stared at her mother in sick fascination. What was worse, Mom had no idea how deeply those words would sting later. She was proving Nolan right. Because while Mom thought protecting the family was an honorable thing for them to do, she was also proving the point that in the grand scale, Douglas and Theodore mattered more. Their reputations were valuable. Yvonne lived to serve.

  “What do you say, dear?” Mom squeezed Yvonne’s hand, practically bouncing with joy.

  “You think this will work?” Yvonne felt as though she were in a tunnel, headed somewhere she didn’t want to go.

  “Of course it will.”

  “When?”

  “I’d like for it to happen today, but tomorrow or the day after will give us time to plan.”

  Yvonne nodded. That part of her mind that was always working out problems spun away, an idea already taking form.

  She had a little time to put things in order.

  “Well, if that’s all settled I’ll be off. Things to do and all that.” Mom leaned over and kissed Yvonne’s cheek. “The things we do for these boys, am I right?”

  “Right.”

  Mom stood, smoothed her dress down
then walked toward the door, talking about something Yvonne wasn’t listening to.

  Yvonne pulled her feet up onto the cushions, made the appropriate farewell sounds and stared at a spot on the wall.

  She’d always been content playing her role, being in the background, because she was part of the great family business. The thing her father had created from nothing at his kitchen table after work because he had a solution no one would listen to. It had been her dream growing up to be part of that.

  Was she happy? Were her dreams worth all of this?

  Before she answered any of those questions she needed all of the information. And that meant going to a doctor. But she couldn’t make an appointment herself. The Krieger last name was well-known enough that she couldn’t just call up a clinic.

  Would Nolan—?

  No. She didn’t want to think about him right now. He’d been right, and that stung.

  Melody.

  She’d been Yvonne’s go to in Kyoto. With any luck the woman would help Yvonne now.

  She got up and retrieved her phone, then shot off a text. Her insides were too shaky to trust her voice. Within a minute she’d received a reply from Melody and a promise to be there in five minutes.

  Five minutes to decide how to share information Yvonne was still denying.

  Two out of three tests had been positive.

  Those odds weren’t...what? Good? Bad?

  She wasn’t sure one way or the other what she wanted.

  If she was pregnant, her whole life would change focus. She didn’t want to spend all her time working, like her father had, and leave someone else to raise her child. That was, in her mind, the first step that had gone wrong with Douglas. Dad had focused more time on work and been around less.

  If she was simply sick, well, she had to consider what she really wanted. She was twenty-eight. Young enough to reinvent herself and figure out what fit her better than her father’s dream.

  The five minutes flew by. A soft tap at her door signaled the end of Yvonne’s respite. It was time to take her head out of the sand and face reality.

  She opened the bedroom door and Melody stepped in. Like before, she wore a blouse, jacket, slacks and heels Yvonne’s mother would be proud of.