Page 32 of A Tempting Seduction (Protectors of Jasper Creek #5)
“It's starting to sound that way,” Ford ran his hand through his hair. “This is getting over my head, Ruby. I think we need professional help.”
My heart sank. “I can't afford to hire anyone.”
“I can,” Ford said firmly. “Renzo is close to a guy who started a security company called Onyx here in Jasper Creek. According to what I’ve heard, they’re good.
The head of the company married Trenda Avery.
They do work nationwide. Renzo could make the introduction, and Simon should be able to help us figure out what we're really dealing with.”
“Ford, I can't let you pay for my problems.”
“Yes, you can.” His voice was gentle but implacable. “We're a team, remember? That means we handle things together.”
The word 'team' sent warmth through my chest. For two years, I'd been handling everything alone. The idea of having a true partner felt foreign and wonderful.
“Okay,” I said. “But I’ll pay you back when I can.”
Ford kissed my forehead. “We'll figure it out later. Right now, let's focus on keeping you safe.”
Ford called Renzo from Mrs. Patterson's parlor while I sat listening to him explain our situation in careful, measured terms. He was protecting my privacy while still conveying the seriousness of our predicament.
Before we even got out to his truck, he got a text from Renzo.
“Simon and his partner Roan can see us this afternoon,” Ford told me. “They're at their offices downtown.”
“That fast?”
“Renzo told them it was urgent. Apparently, they take threats against women very seriously.”
Onyx Security occupied a sleek building that looked like it belonged in Nashville rather than rural Tennessee. The reception area was all clean lines and professional efficiency, with a young woman behind a modern desk who looked like she could handle anything from scheduling to tactical planning.
“Mr. Larson and Miss Miller?” she asked. “Simon and Roan are waiting for you in the conference room.”
She led us down a hallway that led to a conference room, it was spacious but comfortable, with a long table and leather chairs. Two men stood when we entered, both radiating the kind of quiet competence that made me feel simultaneously protected and nervous.
“Simon Clark,” the older one said, extending his hand. He was probably in his late forties or early fifties, with dark hair liberally sprinkled with silver and intelligent eyes that seemed to catalog everything. “This is my partner, Roan Thatcher.”
Roan looked a decade or two younger, with light brown hair and the kind of build that suggested he could handle himself in any situation. Both men had alert and assessing manners.
“Renzo filled us in on the basics,” Simon said once we were seated. “You're dealing with someone from your past who won't take no for an answer, and there might be political money involved.”
“Possibly judicial corruption too,” I said.
Simon and Roan exchanged a look that spoke volumes.
“Tell us everything,” Roan said. “Start from the beginning, and don't leave anything out.”
So, I did. I told them about my father, about Horace Waters and his political machine, about Lance and the engagement I'd broken off. I explained about the parties, the wealthy men, the sudden increase in our family's standard of living after Dad had married Diane.
“Your father was a state superior court judge,” Simon said when I finished. “That has significant jurisdiction over white-collar crime.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Roan added. “If someone was paying him to be lenient with certain defendants, that could generate substantial funds for political campaigns.”
“Campaign finance violations?” Ford asked.
“Among other things,” Simon made notes on a legal pad. “Money laundering, bribery, conspiracy. If your step grandfather was running a system where judicial decisions were being bought, we're talking about serious federal crimes.”
My stomach churned. “And my father was part of it?”
“Possibly,” Simon said gently. “But if Horace had your father killed, it sounds like he was trying to get out when he died. That suggests he wasn't a willing participant.”
“More likely he was coerced,” Roan agreed. “Someone in his position would be vulnerable to pressure, especially if family members were involved.”
I thought about Diane, about how she’d strategically inserted herself into Dad's life. “What if the marriage was part of the setup? What if Diane targeted my father specifically because of his position?”
“That would fit the pattern,” Simon said. “Organized corruption schemes often involve compromising key officials through personal relationships.”
Ford leaned forward. “What about Lance showing up here? How would they have found Ruby after two years?”
“Good question.” Roan looked at me. “Have you had any contact with anyone from your old life? Any digital footprints they could have traced?”
Fuck!
“Yeah, it was me. I really thought I had done everything right.” I explained my early morning Gmail check. Simon and Roan listened without judgment, but I could see them mentally cataloging the security implications.
“We can help you secure your digital presence going forward,” Simon said. “But right now, our priority is understanding who we're dealing with and what they want.”
“Lance said he needed to put rumors to rest about his affair,” I said. “But he also mentioned that his new role puts him under a microscope.”
“I don’t think they would kill your father and threaten killing a baby, just to stop a scandal about Lance. It has to be bigger than that.” Roan looked over at Simon, who nodded.
What Roan said made sense. “But what could Dad have done to have made them want to kill him?”
“What if he threatened to go to the police?” Ford threw out the question.
“FBI,” Simon corrected. “That’s good,” he smiled. “Horace would definitely kill to stop him from going to the feds.”
“But that doesn’t explain why Lance say that Horace would kill my niece? Why is Horace so anxious to have me come back and marry Lance if he murdered my dad? Isn’t the threat gone?”
We all looked at one another. Ford reached out and put his hand on mine. “They must think that you know something. That your dad gave you information that you could use as leverage to keep yourself safe.”
I shook my head. “That’s ridiculous. He didn’t give me anything.”
“Yes. But they don’t know that.” Simon gave me a soft smile.
“So, if he was willing to kill Dad, he’s definitely willing to kill me. Hell, he liked Dad, he’s never liked me. Just my luck.”
Ford snorted out a laugh. The other two men grinned.
“But why send Lance to have me come home?”
“LA is their turf. It would be easier for you to have an ‘accident’ over there.” Roan put air quotes around the word accident.
“Lance just gets slimier by the second.”
“No. He becomes more of a target by the second,” Ford growled.
I sat up in surprise. Looking at Ford I could see he was serious.
The anger I’d seen in his face ten minutes ago had morphed into cold resolve.
When I looked at Simon and Roan, they wore similar expressions.
Most of the time I forgot that Ford had spent time in the military. Now, I remembered.
“Why would Horace choose now to come after Ruby?”
I looked at Simon and Roan. “Yeah, why now?” I echoed Ford’s question.
Roan shrugged. “I’ve got nothing.”
We all turned to look at Simon. “If I said anything, it’d just be pure conjecture.”
“Conjecture away,” Ford said.
Simon grimaced. “He could be on the razor’s edge of pushing through some controversial legislation and is backed by some of these shady assholes. If that’s true, then he’s going to tie up all loose ends related to Ruby’s dad, to make sure nothing goes wrong.”
“Okay, that’s one.” Ford nodded. “Give me another.”
“Could be that the FBI has pulled him in for questioning, because they already had a source who’ve given them enough information to ask him questions, but not enough for a case. Therefore, Horace starts panicking and again, wants to tie up loose ends.”
I frowned. “Do you think Dad could have given the FBI that information?”
“That tracks.” Roan smiled. “He could have given the FBI a little, and then threatened Horace that he would give them everything if Horace did anything to you.”
“But he’s dead,” I practically wailed. “Dad can’t turn anything over.”
“But Horace doesn’t know that. He’ll think you have something.” Roan looked at me closely. “Are you sure your dad didn’t give you something more? A wallet with the cash that might have had a USB drive in it? Something?”
I shook my head. “It all came in a plain white envelope.”
“What are our next steps?” Ford asked.
“We start investigating, Lance, Diane, and Horace. A deep dive.” Simon explained.
“Anything else?”
“We'll also need to implement some security measures,” Simon added. “Just as a precaution.”
The weight of the situation settled over me. This morning, my biggest worry had been whether Ford and I were moving too fast. Now I was potentially the target of a criminal conspiracy involving judicial corruption and political money.
“I can't pay you,” I said quietly. “Not right away.”
Simon waved off my concern. “You’re a member of Jasper Creek. That makes you family. Family doesn’t pay.”
“Besides,” Roan added with a slight smile, “cases like this are exactly why we got into this business. Some fights are worth having.”
Ford squeezed my hand, and some of the tension left my shoulders. I wasn't alone anymore. I had Ford, and now I had Onyx Security. Whatever Horace Waters and Lance Leeds were planning, they were about to discover that Ruby Miller wasn't the defenseless girl who'd fled California two years ago.
I was Ruby Miller of Jasper Creek, Tennessee. I had people who cared about me, people who would fight for me.
And I was done running.