Page 155
Story: Riches and Romance
“Hutch and Sandra are already down there, and apparently Drake flies in tonight,” Tag replied. “Watch him. I don’t trust anyone in the Agency after what happened with Solo. Try to remember who Drake’s working for.”
No one she trusted. “I will.”
“And don’t forget about fake pregnancies,” Tag continued.
She groaned and thanked fate Tag wasn’t coming along.
“She’s lovely,”Ava Malone said as they walked toward his father’s study. “According to Michael she’s very competent. He says she’s former Interpol.”
JT sent his mother a frustrated glare. “We don’t exactly want anyone to know that.”
She waved him off. “No one can hear us in this hall. Trust me. I know every inch of this house and how sound reverberates. Your teenage years taught me that.”
He had the grace to wince. He and his brother had been good at sneaking out. Not so great at sneaking back in. “How is Dad?”
She stopped in front of the big portrait of his great granddad. She put a hand on his shoulder. “He’s fine. He’s quite healthy. I’m not worried about him except for the fight we’ll have the next time he orders chicken fried steak. I’m worried about you. My darling, have you thought about this?”
His heart sank a bit, though he should have known this was coming. “I’m not going to let someone get away with stealing from us.”
His mother’s jaw tightened. “It’s more than that and you know it. Someone killed William Murphy. Mr. Taggart is certain of it.”
He wasn’t going to have this conversation twice. He pushed through the door that led to where his father was sitting in his big comfy chair, his massive German shepherd at his side. The poor dog had whined and cried when his master had been in pain, and he’d been miserable to be apart from him.
Maybe he should get a dog. The dog would love him and not question his every move. The dog might have faith that he could handle himself.
Nina seemed to think he could.
“JT, you need to tell your mother I’m not some old man who can’t do for himself,” his father said.
“Mother, he’s not some old man who had surgery a few days ago and needs someone who loves him to take care of him. Let him die.” His father responded best to tough love. Lord knew the old man could dish it out.
“That is not what I said,” his father insisted.
He needed to make a few things plain, and very quickly. “Dad, you let your health get away from you. Your doctor has been telling you for years this would happen. You were lucky it was your gall bladder and not your heart. We thought we weregoing to lose you, and not a one of us has gotten over that yet. You sit in that chair and you do everything the docs and Mom tell you to do because we love you. Because you love us, and you know we need you to be safe.”
His father’s expression softened. “All right.”
He turned to his mother. “You take care of Dad and stop worrying about me. I’m not Michael, but I’m not some wilting flower either, and I’m sick of being treated like the delicate one in this family. You trust me to run this business?”
“You know I do,” his mother replied.
“Then you let me run it, and that includes protecting it from spies. I do not want anyone to try to talk me out of a fight I need to have.”
His mother’s manicured hands came up in apology. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I can only use the same excuse I use on your father. I love you. I’m worried about you.”
“Were you worried about me when I was on a rig in the middle of the Arabian Sea?”
“Absolutely. Every single day,” she assured him.
“She was a mess the entire time you were gone,” his dad agreed. “She doesn’t think you’re incapable, son. She’s your mom. She’s always worried about you.”
It was worse than he’d thought. “She’s not worried about Mike.”
His dad snorted. “Are you kidding? You do know your mom has your brother’s partner’s phone number, right? She gets updates when they’re on assignment. It isn’t hard. When he’s working with that Bear fellow, she intimidates him.”
He could guess what she used on the other guy Michael routinely worked with. “She sends Boomer food.”
“Mr. Boomer is a very reasonable lad.” His mother fussed over his dad, straightening his blanket and making sure his feet were covered. “I send him a few treats and he gives me updates.”
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