Page 34 of A Tempting Seduction (Protectors of Jasper Creek #5)

Chapter Nineteen

Ford didn’t have to say a word. I just left my car at Miss Gladiola and Little Grandma's house and climbed into his truck.

I wanted to be close to him. My hand automatically found his as he pulled away from the curb.

The warmth of his fingers wrapped around mine should have been comfort enough, but my stomach churned with nervous energy about what we might learn at Onyx Security.

It felt like forever to get there. Ford kept glancing at me, his brown eyes filled with concern.

“You, okay?” he asked as we turned onto the street where Onyx Security was located.

“Getting there.”

When we pulled up to the building, Ford parked in front, and we walked to the main entrance together.

The door was locked, but a buzzer sounded the moment we approached, and the lock clicked open with an electronic hum. I looked up and spotted the camera mounted above the entrance, its green light indicating we were being watched.

Ford squeezed my hand as we stepped inside.

This time, there wasn't a receptionist to greet us like there had been during our first visit. Instead, Simon’s voice called out from somewhere deeper in the building.

“Come on back past the conference room to my office.”

Ford and I walked hand in hand down the hallway, our footsteps muffled by thick carpet. The building felt different today, more serious somehow. Maybe it was just my nerves, but even the air seemed heavier.

Simon's office was spacious but functional, with a large desk, comfortable chairs, and a small conference table near the windows.

Simon sat behind his desk, papers spread across the surface, while Roan occupied one of the chairs in front.

Both men looked up when we entered, their expressions focused and alert.

“Have a seat at the table,” Simon said, gesturing toward the small conference table. “We've got some good news.”

Ford and I settled into chairs across from each other, the polished wood surface between us reflecting the afternoon light streaming through the windows.

“What's going on?” Ford asked, leaning forward slightly.

“Before we left the ladies’ house, I texted two of my contacts at the FBI, to see if either of them knew Special Agent Isaacson. I wanted to get a proper introduction before we take the next step.”

My pulse quickened. “Did you find someone?”

“Better than that,” Roan said, moving from his chair to join us at the table. “Simon served with a guy who's now working joint task force operations with the FBI. He vouched for us.”

“It seems smarter to start working with the FBI before having us go out to California,” Simon continued, his fingers dancing across the keyboard. “That way, you'll have even more protection when you access that safety deposit box.”

The logic made sense, but something nagged at me. “Why do you think my father didn't just give this information to the FBI in the first place?”

Roan leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “I think Simon was right. He gave some information to the FBI before he died, but this other stuff was an insurance policy. Something to make sure Horace would never come after you.”

“He probably never imagined you'd end up needing to use it,” Simon added.

Before I could respond, Simon's desk phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and held up one finger.

“This is him.” Simon hit the speaker button. “Agent Isaacson? It's Simon Clark.”

“Simon.” The voice that came through the speaker was crisp and professional, with just a hint of a New York accent. “I understand you have some interesting information for me.”

“I do. But first, you should know I have the person of interest here with me.” Simon looked directly at me. “Special Agent Isaacson, I'd like you to meet Ruby Miller. Formerly Ruby Banks.”

The silence on the other end of the line stretched for several heartbeats. When Isaacson finally spoke, his voice carried unmistakable shock.

“Ruby Banks? Michael Banks' daughter?”

“Yes sir.”

“Jesus Christ.” The profanity slipped out before he caught himself. “I was told she was dead.”

I winced.

“She's very much alive,” Simon said. “And she has access to evidence her father left behind. A safety deposit box at First National Bank of Beverly Hills.”

My phone started ringing, the shrill sound cutting through the conversation. I pulled it from my purse and glanced at the caller ID. Sheriff's Office. I declined the call and set the phone face down on the table.

“Can she access the box?” Isaacson asked.

“She has everything she needs,” Simon confirmed. “The question is timing and security.”

“Since Monday is a bank holiday, Ruby should show up Tuesday morning,” Isaacson said. “I'll coordinate with the local field office to provide protection.”

Relief flooded through me.

“Agent Isaacson,” I said, finding my voice. “What's happening with the investigation?”

“Things are blowing up here in LA. We brought Horace Waters in for questioning two weeks ago. We also have a subpoena out to talk to Lance Leeds. But we haven’t had him in yet.”

Ford's hand found mine across the table, his fingers warm and steady. “That’s because the asshole is here,” Ford growled.

Ford's cell phone started ringing, interrupting the agent. Ford pulled it from his pocket and frowned at the screen.

“Sheriff's office,” he said, looking at me.

“They just tried to call me,” I whispered.

Simon held up his hand to pause the FBI call. “Agent Isaacson, can you hold on a second, Sheriff Nash Rivers is trying to get ahold of Ruby and Ford. They need to answer.”

Ford swiped to accept the call. “This is Ford.”

I could hear Sheriff Nash's voice through the phone, though I couldn't make out the words. Ford's expression grew increasingly serious as he listened.

“Put it on speaker,” Simon commanded. I’d forgotten that Simon Clark used to be a Lieutenant Commander in charge of a bunch of Navy SEALs. He sure sounded like it now.

Ford hit the speaker button. “Go ahead, Sheriff.”

“Ruby?” Nash's voice filled the office. “I need to ask you and Ford some questions about your interaction with Lance Leeds.”

My blood turned to ice. “What kind of questions?”

“Mrs. Patterson told me about your visit to her bed and breakfast a few days ago. Said there were raised voices and that Leeds seemed agitated when you left.”

Ford and I exchanged glances. This couldn't be good.

“What's this about, Nash?” Ford asked, his voice taking on an edge I'd rarely heard.

Nash's hesitation spoke volumes. “I need to know exactly what was discussed during that conversation. What Leeds said, how he reacted, whether he made any threats.”

“Nash,” Simon interrupted, his tone carrying unmistakable authority. “This is Simon. Ruby and Ford are here in my office on unrelated business. If you're questioning them about a crime, I think we need to know what we're dealing with.”

“Simon.” Nash's voice carried relief and frustration in equal measure. “Thank God you're there. Look, I don't want to say more than I have to over the phone, but I need answers.”

“Then give us something to work with,” Simon said firmly. “You know damn well neither Ford nor Ruby would hurt anyone, so what's really going on?”

The silence stretched long enough that I wondered if we'd lost the connection. When Nash finally spoke, his voice was grim.

“Lance Leeds's body was found this morning.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. I gasped and pressed my hand to my mouth, trying to hold back the sob that threatened to escape.

Ford's hand tightened around mine. “What happened?”

“Someone beat the hell out of him, then put a bullet in the back of his head. Tried to hide his car in the blackberry brambles near I-75.”

Tears stung my eyes, but they weren't tears of grief. They were tears of shock, fear, and something uncomfortably close to relief. I felt guilty for that last part, but I couldn't deny it was there.

Ford's voice cut through my emotional spiral, sharp and clear.

“For fuck's sake, Nash, you know damn good and well neither Ruby nor I beat and shot some asshole from LA then dumped his car. First, Ruby wouldn't hurt a fly. Second, you wouldn't have found the body if I'd done it.”

Despite everything, Simon and Roan both chuckled at Ford's blunt assessment. Even Agent Isaacson, who was still on the other line, made a sound that might have been suppressed laughter.

“I know that, Ford,” Nash said, and I could hear the exhaustion in his voice. “But I have to ask the questions. You understand that, right?”

“I understand you're doing your job,” Ford said. “But it’s been a long fucking day with a lot of revelations. You can get everything you need from Roan and Simon. The man was a politician and a snake, but we didn't kill him.”

“Someone did,” Nash said grimly. “Someone with access to him and a reason to want him dead.”

The implications hung in the air like smoke. If Lance was dead, what did that mean for the rest of us? Was whoever killed him coming for me next?

“Ford,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. “I want to go home.”

He immediately stood, his chair scraping against the floor. “We're done here.”

“Wait,” Nash said through the speaker. “I need you both to come in and give formal statements.”

“Not today,” Simon said firmly. “They'll come in when they're ready, with representation if necessary.”

“Simon—”

“Nash, I suggest you get yourself over here to Onyx. Roan and I can fill you in on some relevant facts that might help your investigation. But leave Ford and Ruby out of it for now.”

I felt a surge of gratitude toward Simon that nearly overwhelmed me. He was protecting us, giving us space to process this bombshell.

“Fine,” Nash said after a long pause. “I'll be there in twenty minutes.”

The line went dead.

Agent Isaacson's voice crackled through Simon's phone speaker. “I'm still here. This changes things significantly.”

“How so?” Simon asked.

“If Leeds's dead, someone's cleaning house. That makes Ruby an even bigger target than we initially thought.”

My stomach dropped into my shoes. Just when I thought things couldn't get worse.

“That’s the way I see it, too. We’ll take care of things while they’re here in Jasper Creek. You help us while they’re in the air and in California. Deal?” Simon asked.

“Get her to that safety deposit box as soon as possible. Whatever evidence is in there, we need it now. And Simon? Watch your backs.”

Simon ended the FBI call and turned to Ford and me. “He's right. This situation just became a lot more dangerous.”

Ford was already helping me to my feet, his arm protective around my waist. “We're going home. Ruby needs time to process this.”

“I’m following you,” Roan said, standing as well. “Simon and I will work out a protection duty for the couple of days before you fly out to LA. In the meantime, we’ll also be working with Nash to track down the killers.”

“Do you really need to babysit us like this?” I asked.

“One hundred percent,” Roan nodded.

As we headed toward the door, Simon called out behind us. “Ruby?”

I turned back to face him.

“We're going to figure this out. I promise.”

I managed a weak smile. “Thank you.”

Ford guided me out of the building and into his truck, his movements careful and protective. As he started the engine, all I could think of was how much I just wanted to go back to Miss Gladiola’s and Little Grandma’s kitchen and be blissfully ignorant, baking a cake.