Edge of the Enforcer (8 page)

Simon’s gaze cooled. “Mrs. Martinez’s daughter is getting married, and she requested help for a couple of weeks. Rona suggested I hire Lindsey.”

And Simon gave his wife just about anything she wanted. DeVries considered mentioning Lindsey’s past. Unfortunately, what she’d done to an ex-husband had little bearing on her performance as a secretary. Odd she was working at all, but perhaps an upscale office was the perfect hunting ground for her next sucker.

“Do you have a concern with Lindsey?” Simon asked evenly.

Fuck.
“Nothing related to work. Won’t be a problem.”

“Good enough.” Simon flipped open a folder on the desk. “Now debrief me on Los Angeles. I also want your input on security for the Scofield’s residence.”

DeVries turned his attention to the matters at hand. The Texan would undoubtedly stay out of his path, both here and at Dark Haven. She didn’t strike him as suicidal.

For over an hour, they tossed ideas back and forth, and finally Simon nodded. “Looks workable.” He glanced down at the notes he’d jotted. “Give this to Lindsey to type up, would you, please?”

DeVries took the papers. At the door, he stopped. “How’s she working out?”

Simon’s level look made him feel like a fool. “Very nicely. Her degree is in social work, and she lacks office experience; however, sheer doggedness gets her past that. I’ll keep her as long as she wants to stay.”

Social work?
Jesus
. “Why the fuck would a rich girl major in social work?”

“Rich girl?” Simon gave him a quizzical glance. “Where’d you get such an idea?”

“Saw her condo. Pacific Heights.”

With a disgusted sound, Simon leaned back in his chair. “Someday you might want to
talk
to the woman you’re fucking.”

Unable to think of a response, he closed the door. Simon’s reaction implied Lindsey wasn’t rich, and deVries was off base.

Or Simon had been taken in by someone’s puppy-dog eyes and an oh-pitiful-me story.

DeVries crossed the hallway to the reception area. Lindsey was behind the desk, sitting beside Mrs. Martinez.

The gray-haired secretary’s tailored silvery suit hinted at her impressive efficiency; her pleased smile showed her true nature. Sweetest woman on the planet.

“Zander, it’s wonderful you’re back.” She held her hand out to him and accepted a kiss on her cheek as her due. “If you’ll be here a few days, I’ll make you an apple pie.”

His mouth watered. The woman knew how to cook. “If I’m out of town, I’ll fly back.”

Her laugh was delighted. Still smiling, she turned to the silent little Texan. “Lindsey, do you know Alexander deVries? He’s Simon’s best operative.”

“Yes, we’ve met.” Lindsey tilted her head stiffly. “Mr. deVries.”

Well, if that was the way she wanted to play it, fine. He gave her a nod and handed Mrs. Martinez the papers. “Simon needed these typed up.”

In his office, he dropped into his chair. As one of Simon’s three lead security agents, he rated his own space rather than a cubicle. Not high on his list of priorities, but he liked the privacy. Leaning back, he stared out the window where the Bay sparkled in an undoubtedly short interlude of sunshine.

Quite the puzzle. A pretty divorcee who ended up well-off enough to live in Pacific Heights—yet worked as a receptionist.

She’d dressed…comfortably. Not rich. Black jeans and boots, silky red shirt. A black jacket dressed her outfit up adequately for an office.

Mrs. Martinez dressed fancier.

Lindsey had a degree in social work—or so she’d told Simon. Social workers and con artists didn’t belong in the same box.

He scowled. Although she’d lied to him last weekend, he hadn’t noticed any dishonesty before that. However, he’d been played for a fool before. Tamara had lied to him constantly, and he hadn’t caught on.

Even so, that was a decade ago. He’d been younger. Hadn’t been a Dom and used to studying for small telltale signs of deception. He’d never have thought to distrust his wife.

The sound of Lindsey’s giggles came through the closed door. Sweet. Open. Her apparent sincerity was one of her traits he’d found compelling.

Simon knew about her ritzy condo, yet didn’t think she was rich. Had he checked her references? Seen her college transcripts? He wasn’t an idiot, after all.

“I’m missing something,” deVries muttered. As a kid, he had never been able to step away from a puzzle. Got into fixing computers for the sheer fun of figuring out how they worked. As a SEAL, he’d specialized in surveillance, surreptitious entry, and breaching. Now, as a trained investigator, he should be able to unravel the puzzle of Lindsey.

He leaned forward and brought up the first search program.

* * * *

Why couldn’t the man go do his investigating and bodyguarding somewhere else? Like maybe New York? Late that afternoon, Lindsey walked past deVries’s office. Door closed. Through the smoky glass, she could see him at his desk. Having him in the same building made her more nervous than her resident rodent on cleaning day. Little Mouse Francois had the right idea—jump in a hidey-hole until it was safe to come out.

What kind of a man could be so nice to her all night and zip straight into disliking her? That was just…wrong. Made her feel as if every certainty was gone.

When he’d said, “
I don’t like you
,” she’d almost started to cry.

Behind her, in reception, the phone rang, and Mrs. Martinez answered.

Lindsey wanted to help, but she’d been told to enjoy a break before the admin left.

The break room was tiny, with a small table, fridge, sink, and microwave. The new coffeemaker obviously got the most use. Lindsey put a clean cup under the spout and inserted a hazelnut-flavored pod. As she waited, she called her sister.

“Hey, it’s Lindsey.”

“Sissie!” Amanda’s high voice was delighted. “Changed phones again?”

“You betcha.” The better to make sure her number never got in the wrong hands.

Her little sister gave an unhappy sigh. “I wish—”

“Me too.” She forced cheerfulness into her voice.

“Well, I’m glad you called. I wanted to talk to you.”

Worry tightened Lindsey’s throat. “What’s wrong? Have you been to the doctor?”

“Criminy, relax!” Her baby sister heaved an exasperated groan. “I’m fine. The last scan showed I’m clear. It’s all good, Linnie.”

“Oh.” Lindsey’s shoulders slumped with relief. The cancer hadn’t come back. “Okay. Sorry.”

“You worry more than Mama and Melissa combined.”

“I know.” Hearing Amanda’s giggle, Lindsey felt her spirit soar.
Just listen to her. Alive. Laughing.
So different from three years ago, when she’d been diagnosed with cancer and was well on her way to dying. She’d been losing weight, her face drawn tight with pain. Now she sounded as she had before—Mandy had laughed all through childhood. “So what’s up?”

“Texas A&M accepted me. I’m going to be an Aggie!”

“Really? When did you get old enough to go to college?”

“Linnie!” The reprimanding tone made Lindsey chuckle and tear up at the same time.

“S-sorry.” She cleared her throat. It had been worth it. Sure, if Victor hadn’t offered to pay for Amanda’s treatment, Lindsey wouldn’t have rushed into marrying him. Maybe she’d have had a chance to learn what an evil person he was or even why he’d been so eager to get married.

She curled her lip. At a guess, he’d needed only one smuggling trip to reimburse him for everything spent on Mandy’s treatment. Yet the past didn’t matter. Her sister was alive, laughing, and planning her future. That was what counted. “Congratulations, Mandy. Seriously. That’s awesome.”

“I know, right? I can’t believe I actually caught up on all those classes I missed. And Mom’s giving me a birthday party next week.” A pause and smaller voice. “I wish you could come.”

The thought of setting foot in Parnell’s jurisdiction, of what might happen to her
…
Lindsey’s stomach twisted painfully.
Relax.
She was far, far from Texas. “Sorry, sissie.” Would she ever be able to go home? “Are y’all doing okay?”

“The cops swing by every couple of weeks to see if you’re hiding under the couch or something.” She snickered.

“You’re not telling them anything, right?”

“Nah, we only say we don’t know where you are. I’m glad you don’t tell us, so I don’t feel like a liar.” She hesitated. “Chief Parnell is…kinda scary, though.”

Lindsey stiffened, remembering the twisted hatred in the police chief’s eyes.
I shot his brother.
And Parnell liked to kill. Thank goodness Mandy would soon be leaving town. “You never see him alone, you understand me? Never.”

“I’m not stupid. If Mama’s not home, I go out the back door and over the fence.” Mandy giggled. “But it’s fun when she’s there. She knows she can’t lie worth a darn, so she just goes into a crying fit whenever the chief mentions your name. And he gets all disgusted and leaves.”

Even as guilt settled in Lindsey’s stomach, she grinned. She could see her mama doing excellent hysterics. With proper Southern gentility, of course.

“Melissa came over for supper last night. She’s getting the day off to come to my party!”

“Good.”

“And she says she’s still keeping the cattle and the hands away from your property.”

“Even better.” Thank God for Melissa. The two of them had always taken care of Mama and Mandy. Like when Amanda got sick, Lindsey had obtained the money for the experimental treatment, Melissa provided the support, and Mama had—Lindsey rolled her eyes—Mama had cried. They all loved their mother, despite the fact that in an emergency, she was as much use as tits on a boar. “Now tell me about what you’re going to take the first semester.”

After her sister finished with the local news, Lindsey dumped her coffee into the sink and went back to the reception room.

“I’m off to help my baby with her flower arrangements,” Mrs. Martinez said and pointed to a pile of papers on the desk. “If you have time, can you file those away?”

“You bet.”

Lindsey stood and watched the short woman hurry out of the office. After a minute, she recognized the feeling welling inside her as grief. She’d been a bride twice now. Even with Victor and having a few qualms, she’d thought there was love. She’d looked forward to children.

Surely the death of dreams should have some ceremony attached.

Feeling the thickening in her throat, she shook herself.

The wagon train of destiny has passed, girl. Barking after it won’t make it stop.

Carrying the papers, she went into the narrow filing room. Tucked behind the reception area, the room was isolated and perfect, since she couldn’t see deVries’s office.

Mood lightening, she hummed to herself, answered the phone when needed, and filed papers. As, Bs, Cs…

“You look like you know what you’re doing.” DeVries’s gravelly voice echoed in the small room.

Lindsey spun. “Jesus, you scared the spit out of me.”
God, God, God.
How could she have been so stupid as to turn her back on a door? Anyone might have walked in. Shot her dead.

Trying to regulate her heartbeat, she picked up the paper she’d dropped.

“Bit jumpy?” His gaze swept over her, sending a different type of anxiety into her.

“I drank too much coffee.” She assumed a pleasant smile. “Was there something you needed, Mr. deVries?”

His face darkened. “Considering all the ways I’ve tasted you, fingered you, fucked you, calling me
Mister
is pretty formal.”

Her spine snapped straight. “I thought formality would serve us best. After all, I don’t like you, and you don’t like me.”

“Hell,” he said under his breath before giving her a scowl. “I was out of line.”

She nodded acknowledgment of his half-assed—though unexpected—apology.

“I didn’t come in to apologize, though.” He gave her a stare as if she were a scorpion scuttling around on an outhouse floor. “You’re working under a fake ID, Miss Adair. What’s your real name?”

As her hands went cold, she took a step back. The file drawer jammed into her hip, blocking her retreat. “You researched—”

“Yeah. I did. Give me a real good explanation of why, and maybe I won’t tell Simon.”

Her fear disintegrated as rage danced along her nerve endings. How dare he snoop? Threaten her? “Go away.” Trying to block his existence from her universe, she turned and leisurely filed the paper she’d crumpled.

The air seemed to darken. What kind of man could change the very atmosphere in a room?

“I’m waiting for your explanation.”

He could wait until the stars fell from the sky. “Run and tell Daddy, little boy. What are you, five?” She took a long inhalation and told her shoulders to relax.
God, I just want to go home.

“Let’s start with this: why’re you working here?”

Because if I’d stayed in Texas, I’d be dead.
She turned and glared at him. “Why do you think, you idiot? Because he
pays
me. You know,” she said sweetly, “Simon thinks you’re so clever, but I kinda figure you can’t find your ass with a flashlight and a search warrant.”

Silence.

Perhaps that hadn’t been the smartest comment she’d ever made. Well, if he couldn’t take the heat, he shouldn’t have come into her filing room. She slammed the drawer shut and started on the next letter.
D.
DeVries’s name was on a lot of the investigations. He was respected here. What would Simon do when his buddy outed her? Still, Simon knew she was hiding. Surely he wouldn’t fire her. She felt her lower lip tremble and compressed her lips.
Leave me alone.

He didn’t leave. His voice was even raspier as he said, “I think you should—”

“Lindsey, it’s five o’clock. Time for you to head on home.” Simon’s smooth voice hit the room like the warmth of a fire after a chill morning walk.

She turned.

DeVries still stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“Okay,” she said to Simon. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. You’re doing an excellent job.”

Pleasure swept away her worry. “Oh, that’s nice to hear.”

“Only the truth.”

After closing the filing drawer, she left the remaining papers on the small table and headed for the door. DeVries didn’t even try to get out of her way as she squeezed past him.