Full Force Fatherhood (7 page)

“Details. I'm not so good at those,” Kelli said, taking a big sip of coffee. “I think having a toddler has fried my brain.”

“She's pretty cool. Grace, that is.” Mark motioned to the house. “She seems like a sharp kid for her age.”

“Thanks. I think so, too.”

A different kind of smile wound up the corners of the woman's lips. Pride mixed with unmistakable love. Guilt for not being able to protect the father of the family was replaced by an ache of loneliness within him. It caught him off guard. He didn't like it.

“So, what's on the docket for the day?” Mark changed the subject but was annoyed that the feeling stayed.

“Lynn is watching Grace—because she's a wonderful person—while I go to talk to Dennis Crawford. I told her we were tying up some break-in loose ends.”

Mark's eyebrow rose. “That name sounds familiar,” he said.

Kelli's expression hardened behind her coffee cup.

“He was Victor's editor for the Bowman Foundation spotlight,” she explained. “He's also the only person other than you whom I've brought up my concerns to. And since I'm pretty certain you weren't the person who mugged me and then broke into my house...”

“You think he knows something,” Mark finished.

“Or is our culprit.”

“So you're going to go and—what—confront the man you think is behind it all?” Even as he asked, he realized that was exactly what Kelli intended to do. “Kelli, if this guy
is
behind this whole thing, then going to see him is dangerous.”

Kelli fixed him with a pointed stare. “Good thing I have a bodyguard, then.”

Her comment was playful, but it created a storm of emotions inside him. As with his comment about her daughter being smart, he felt an ounce of pride, a measure of pleasure and the ever-present blanket of guilt beneath both. Without knowing what he was about to say, he was glad he didn't have to respond right away. A car pulled up in front of them. It drew Kelli's attention away from him.

“Speaking of bodyguards.”

Chapter Nine

Jonathan Carmichael didn't look like a bodyguard at first glance. Although he was muscled and had an unmistakable set to his jaw that spoke of discipline and determination, he was leaner and taller than his original teammates, Mark and Oliver. From personal experience, Mark knew that even though the black-haired man looked slight next to him, his physical appearance didn't diminish the man's abilities. He was the rock of their once-close group. Always sensible, always strong.

Jonathan Carmichael was the guy who surprised everyone.

Seeing him cut his engine and get out of the car, waiting for Mark to make his way over, was definitely something Mark hadn't realized he missed. In a way it felt as though they were getting ready for a job—though he supposed that was kind of what they
were
doing.

“Long time, no see,” Jonathan greeted him. He extended his hand and they shook. “I see your scruff has gotten better.” He motioned to Mark's chin and his five-o'clock shadow. It made Mark laugh.

“I actually shaved yesterday. I was trying to do you proud,” he joked back. Mark had wondered what their first meeting since the last time he'd seen him—at least six months ago—would be like. He was glad Jonathan seemed to be there with humor rather than anger. The past was more than creeping up on Mark. He couldn't take another problem to think about. “Thanks for coming on such short notice and with little to no explanation.”

Jonathan shrugged, glancing at Kelli, who was still sitting in the car.

“We may not be hanging out like we used to, but I can still tell when you're spooked.”

“I can't deny that this whole thing is...unsettling.” It was his turn to look back at Kelli. “And that one is a firecracker. She won't back down, and I—well, I need to keep her and her family safe, and I can't do that by myself right now.”

Jonathan, the middle ground between Oliver's compassion and Mark's normally stoic reasoning, nodded, while a twitch of his lips pulled up at the corner, moving his impeccable goatee.

“Well, I'm happy to help. But—” Jonathan lowered his voice, not to show he was trying to be secretive but instead to convey seriousness “—I'm able to be here because Nikki moved a contract around. She didn't question me getting out of work, but she expects an answer why. And we both know she deserves one.”

Mark knew as soon as he'd called Jonathan the night before that eventually he'd have to talk with Nikki again. Still he sighed.

“I know,” he admitted.

“Good. Now, tell
me
what's going on.”

* * *

K
ELLI
WAS
TRYING
not to pout. She was almost thirty, for goodness' sake, yet there she was, riding shotgun to the Orion Security Group, trying her best not to show she was ribbed about not getting to go confront the potential culprit. Mark was quiet—ignoring the fact that she was upset she hadn't gotten her way.

“I remember him—Jonathan—from when I first came into Orion,” she said when she could no longer stand the quiet. “His résumé was impressive, and if I remember correctly, he was one of the original Orion agents? Like you?”

Mark gave a half smile. There was no doubt in Kelli's mind that he'd been hiding his emotions since they'd reconnected—maybe a trade secret of the security business—but she could see his feelings for his friend were genuine.

“Yes, Jonathan and I were a part of the first team at Orion. Along with Oliver Quinn.”

“The man who helped the private investigator catch a killer in Maine,” she supplied. “That's how we heard of Orion in the first place. It was all over the news.”

Mark chuckled. “Fun fact—that private investigator is now his wife.”

“Really?”

“They were childhood sweethearts who reconnected after a long time. He now runs the freelance division of Orion, dealing with specialists and strategists who might be needed.”

“What about his wife? Is she still a private investigator?”

Mark nodded. “Oh, yeah, you couldn't get her to stop if you begged. But Oliver never did. And between you and me, I think they help each other on their respective cases.”

“Sounds like you're in with a well-connected crowd.”

Mark's smile wavered.

“I was. Orion wasn't the only thing I distanced myself from when I quit.” His jaw hardened as he said it. His eyes stayed on the road ahead. Kelli wanted to pry—to understand the motive behind him leaving—but she felt she already knew the reason. Mark had done so much for her in the past two days that she decided not to make him open old wounds.

Victor's death had changed more than just her life.

* * *

O
RION
S
ECURITY
G
ROUP
'
S
main office looked more or less the same as it had all those years ago when it had first opened. A modest one-story standalone wrapped in brick and beige siding, Orion's name was painted in large white letters above the door that, as Nikki had said, made it feel as if Orion was watching over you as you entered the business. As they walked inside, Mark eyed these letters with nostalgia.

The lobby, like the building, was modest in size and decoration. A young Hispanic woman named Jillian sat behind a desk that broke up the space between the front door and the rest of the office. She acted as its part-time guard and had been there for almost three years. When she saw them, her already fifteen-hundred-watt smile brightened.

“Mark!” Within the space of a heartbeat, Jillian was around her desk and hugging him. Kelli raised her eyebrow but was soon enveloped in a hug of her own. “Hello, Mrs. Crane!” Mark shared a look over the girl's head that he hoped said, “I'll explain later.”

Jillian backed off.

“Nikki told me you were coming in,” she said, still all smiles. “It's been a long time since I've seen either of you.” Her eyes flitted over Kelli. “I sent some flowers but I never got to tell you—in person—sorry for your loss of Victor.”

Kelli didn't skip a beat. “Thank you.”

Jillian turned back to Mark, somberness gone. “I'm glad you're back. It hasn't been the same around here without you.”

“Thanks, but don't get used to this. I'm just here to talk with the boss.”

She gave a small nod and threw her thumb over her shoulder. “She's all yours, but I'll warn you, she hasn't had her coffee yet.”

Mark let out a breath. Just what he needed. A Nikki without her heavenly coffee.

“Who was that?” Kelli whispered. They were walking past Oliver Quinn's old office and Jonathan's current empty one. Mark's, or what used to be his, was opposite. Though Orion had expanded and no longer operated solely within teams, team leads still had their own offices. Even if they weren't around long enough to use them.

“Right before Orion first started its expansion, Jillian showed up asking if we had an internship program,” he explained. “We didn't, but she made a compelling case. Now she's the part-time secretary while she takes college cybersecurity classes. She's a nice girl—tough as nails.”

Kelli looked over her shoulder. A smile turned up her lips. “I can see why Nikki likes her, then.”

They made it past the open area between the break room and the workout room—what Jonathan had once likened to the grazing field where agents would spend their downtime hanging out on the couches or watching sports on the wall-mounted TV—right up to the last office in the building. It was large, with three of its walls made of glass. Nikki's dark red hair could be seen bobbing behind the computer screen on the desk in the middle of the room.

“Should I wait out here? Or—” Kelli motioned to the couches behind them. Instead of looking as if she was afraid of the often intimidating Nikki Waters, Kelli merely seemed to be respectful of their privacy. But if he was ever going to sell his former boss on the theory that Victor's piece on a charity had gotten him killed, he needed the widow to back him up.

“If you don't mind, I think we should both tell her what's going on.”

Kelli lowered her voice, even though Jillian and Nikki were the only other people they'd seen in the entire building.

“Do you think it's a good idea to tell someone else? We've already told Jonathan.”

Mark had thought it over during the car ride.

“Keeping Nikki in the dark would be much harder to do since we're using Jonathan for help. She'd give us more trouble than we need right now. Plus, she can be one hell of an ally.”

“All right,” Kelli concluded. “I trust you.”

Guilt exploded within his chest. Those three little words stabbed at his heart. Probing the spot that reminded him Victor Crane had also trusted him. He adjusted his smile—sure that it had sagged—and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” his former boss called.

Mark took a deep breath, and together they went inside.

* * *

N
IKKI
'
S
HAIR
WAS
longer than when Kelli had first met her years ago, but she still had kind eyes, only hardening when needed. She came around the desk with her hand outstretched.

“Nice to see you again, Kelli,” she said. Her grip was gentle yet firm. Nikki waved them to the seats opposite her.

“I'm glad you've come by,” she started, bypassing any small talk. “To say I'm curious why you two are hanging out is an understatement.”

Mark shifted in his seat. Kelli wondered if he was worried about whether Nikki would believe their story or just about her reaction to it. The woman who had gone from secretary to founder and boss of a successful—and moral—security group had to be tough.

How tough, Kelli was about to find out.

Mark straightened his back and dove right in. He rehashed his belief that Darwin hadn't set the fire and explained why they thought the mugging, the break-in and Dennis Crawford were all somehow connected.

“That's why I wanted to ask to have a check done on him,” Mark said. “He knows something that could help us figure out what's going on.”

Nikki threaded her fingers together over the desktop. “You have no evidence whatsoever that ties Dennis to the fire. You have a theory, one that's loose, and built
and
propelled by grief.” She shared a look between them before stopping on Kelli. “I am truly sorry for your loss, and can't imagine what you have had to go through. I'm also sorry that the past few days have been less than great.”

She turned back to Mark. “You spent a solid year looking for your man in black. During that year you quit your job, quit your friends and came up with what? Nothing but a box filled with files that lead you to nowhere but self-isolation. I'm sorry, but I won't help you go back to that world, if only for the basic reason that you no longer work at Orion and will not receive its benefits.” In one fluid movement, Nikki stood and moved to the office door. She held it open. “There is such a thing as coincidences and bad luck and timing, and I think that's all it is.”

Kelli didn't need look at Mark to know that the conversation was through. They would not be getting Nikki's help. They would not be granted a reprieve. She followed the man out with only a nod to Nikki as they passed.

Jillian didn't stop them as they left through the lobby, and Mark didn't even say goodbye. Kelli couldn't tell if he was mad, disappointed or embarrassed. Whatever he was feeling, he was definitely silent as they drove away.

It was a silence that Kelli couldn't take for long.

“So, Nikki mentioned you had a box of files on the fire that killed Victor?”

Mark took in a long breath before letting it go out in a whoosh.

“Yes. Everything I collected in the year after.” He lowered his voice as if he was being scolded for a mistake. “I was looking for something—
anything
—that could help me—” he paused “—understand.” Kelli knew the look of guilt he was trying to hide. It was one she was starting to feel when looking at Mark. Not because he couldn't save Victor, but because of what she realized she was starting to feel for the ex-bodyguard. Instead of trying to sort her thoughts out on the future, she tried to focus on the present.

“I'd like to see that box, if you don't mind.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Let's figure out why Darwin McGregor lied.”

* * *

M
ARK
DISAPPEARED
INTO
his bedroom for a few minutes. He wouldn't tell her where the box of files was, but she had a sneaking suspicion it was well hidden.

Kelli took the time to check in on Lynn and Grace. Both were watching cartoons in their pajamas. One reason why Lynn made such a great babysitter was that she was a grown-up child herself. Sometimes Grace had to let her know when
she
was done playing.

Lynn thankfully didn't ask too many questions. Kelli let the woman keep thinking she was dealing with the break-in and house issues for the day. Which wasn't too far from the truth. Finding out who wanted the journal was intrinsically tied to the break-in.

“Sorry,” Mark said, breaking the silence. “I was a little too nondescript when labeling this. Not to mention I think I might have tried to hide it from myself.” He put a box on the coffee table and took the seat next to her on the couch.

“I see what you meant about being nondescript,” she commented. The box was devoid of any telling signs of what might be inside. It was an utterly ordinary brown with the top taped down. He pulled a pocketknife from his jeans but set it on the table.

“Are you sure you want to see all of this?” he asked, keeping his gaze on the box. “To say this isn't filled with bad memories would be a lie.”