Page 1 of Agent of the Heart (Hearts in Hawthorne #3)

DALLAS—FEbrUARY

J ace Tanner studied the computer screen in front of him, reviewing the marketing plan Penny Hiller had put together for Tevin Wakeland, one of their biggest clients.

Tevin was the starting quarterback for the Detroit Lions and had recently signed with Touchdown Talent Management, the sports agency Jace had founded with Mark Walton five years ago.

TTM had just helped Tevin land the highest-paying contract for an NFL quarterback, and they were now looking into various marketing opportunities for the twenty-five-year-old out of LSU.

He texted Penny to come see him, and she arrived at his office in less than two minutes, along with Steve Butler, TTM’s graphics guy and social media expert.

Rising, Jace motioned them to the table in the corner of his downtown Dallas office. The entire wall was made of glass, and the view was nothing less than spectacular. The three took seats.

“The shoe contract and athleisure wear endorsements are solid fits for Tevin,” he began.

“But I like the new additions. The airline and the watch company have potential. What Tevin will really like is the opportunity to partner with the city of Detroit on municipal playgrounds and the natatorium. This is a guy who likes to give back to his community. Detroit has embraced him these last three years, and he wants to show them some love.”

He let Penny run through the details of the product endorsements and signed off on that.

The contracts would go to Mark now since he was the lawyer.

Jace was more the face of TTM, charming clients and pulling in new business, as well as overseeing all aspects other than contracts.

Even those he read through and tweaked with Mark before they presented them to their clients.

After interning, working for two other sports management companies, and then founding TTM, he had plenty of experience in reading contracts and contributing salient points to them.

Then the three of them brainstormed ideas regarding Tevin’s partnering with the city.

Not only would the quarterback become the face of the community in Detroit, his charity would fund the bulk of the city’s playgrounds and pools.

This was one athlete who put his money where his mouth was.

Tevin would earn millions from his new deal, but he would also sink millions back into Detroit’s youth.

“When can we meet with Tevin?” asked Steve.

“I’ll get back to you on that,” Jace said. “But he’s very happy with what you’ve done with his Instagram, and he really likes the new website design for his charity.”

Steve looked pleased. “Good to know.”

“While I have you here, let’s chat briefly about DeMarcus Green.”

Penny grinned. “TTM landing DeMarcus as a client was a real coup, Jace. DeMarcus is bound to go number one in the April NFL draft.”

“It’s all about guiding champions from the field to the spotlight,” he said, parroting TTM’s tagline. “Good work. Get with Mark on the contracts, Penny. I want to go in with a solid idea of what DeMarcus will accept.”

“How soon do you want these done?”

“Yesterday,” he replied, his standard answer since sports management was all about timing.

The pair left, and Elena Arturo entered his office.

He’d convinced her to leave the previous agency they both worked for and help him start up TTM.

She was bright, attractive, and detail-oriented.

She also kept him on track. All roads to Jace went through Elena, and she was the best watchdog he could have looking after him.

“You have someone here to see you. Erasmus Crawford. No appointment, but he said it’s urgent.”

An odd feeling washed over him. Jace had hired the private investigator over six months ago.

He had no website. No internet presence at all.

His referrals all came from discreet, word-of-mouth referrals.

Crawford had worked for the biggest movers and shakers in Dallas, as well as the richest ones.

He charged outrageous prices, ones which his clients were all too willing to pay, all in the name of maintaining privacy.

A person came to a guy like Crawford because they wanted no trace of what they wanted done.

In Jace’s case, he’d asked Crawford to find his older brother.

When a client had mentioned Crawford, Jace was all over it, meeting with the PI and giving him next to nothing to go on.

Jace and Eli had been separated when he was three and Eli maybe a couple of years older.

He hadn’t even known his original last name to give Crawford.

All he had were brief flashes of his older brother trying to protect him.

Sharing food with him. Sleeping inside a closet to hide from someone who would hit them.

He’d guessed his brother’s name was Eli, simply because he could remember saying E-Wi .

That was all Crawford had to go on. Jace’s adopted parents were dead.

They’d only told him he was adopted after he had graduated from high school.

The Texas birth certificate they had was the one given to them after the adoption, reflecting they were Jace’s parents.

He knew he was adopted in Texas and hoped the same had happened to Eli.

Jace made a point of remaining in Texas to go to college and even after graduation, he passed up better work opportunities in New York and L.A.

to remain in Texas, all because he wanted to stay in case he ever found Eli.

He’d looked on his own for years, finding next to nothing, before calling in Erasmus Crawford, who hadn’t even sent him a single text in all these months.

“Have him come in,” he told Elena. “What do I have coming up?”

“Nothing until after lunch. A one o’clock call.” She named the client.

“Have all the paperwork ready to go.”

She gave him one of her patented Elena looks. “The folder is sitting on your desk, Jace. Everything’s summarized for you.”

“As always, thanks. No calls while Crawford is here. Thanks.”

Elena left. Jace wondered if he should stand.

The sudden nerves racing through him were unlike anything he’d ever felt.

His gut told him that Crawford had found Eli.

Or whatever his name was now. Jace’s parents had changed his name to Jason.

They’d had a son named Jason who’d drowned, and his adopted mom hadn’t been able to have any more children.

Even as a small boy, he’d rejected being called Jason, preferring to shorten it to Jace.

After he stumbled across old pictures and learned of the first Jason Tanner, it had creeped him out that he had been given the dead boy’s same name.

He had respected his parents’ wishes, though, and not looked for his brother until after their deaths in a plane crash after his junior year of college.

His assistant appeared again, ushering the investigator into Jace’s office, asking, “Anything to drink, Mr. Crawford?”

“Just Crawford. I go by it. Erasmus was my grandfather. I beat up a lot of kids on the playground for making fun of it. Then I simplified things and just went by my last name starting in third grade.”

“Even your teachers called you Crawford?” Elena asked.

“ Especially my teachers. I’d have a little talk with them at the beginning of each school year, and they addressed me as Crawford.”

Elena rewarded the PI with a smile. “Good for you, Crawford. Drink?”

He waved her away. “Nah. I’m good.” He made his way toward Jace as Elena closed the door, a manila folder in his hand, piquing Jace’s curiosity.

Standing, he offered his hand. “Take a seat, Crawford. It’s nice to finally hear from you.”

Crawford shrugged. “I told you I’d be in contact when I had something. Well, I finally do.” He opened the manila folder and picked up a picture, passing it to Jace. “Eli Carson.”

Hearing the name Carson set off a bell inside him. There was a familiarity to it. He turned his attention to the photo, staring at it a long time, little tingles zipping through him. It was a formal portrait, probably one off some website for whatever company Eli worked at.

“I should say Dr. Eli Carson,” Crawford continued. “Six feet even. Medium brown hair. Dark brown eyes. Runs daily.” He passed a second picture to Jace, one which was full body length. “You can tell he’s got a runner’s body. Lean. Hungry.”

He looked at it and then back at the first photo, trying to recall the small boy his brother had been, wondering if he could see any of that boy in this grown man.

“Tell me everything you’ve learned, including why you think this is my brother.”

“I guarantee he is. I snagged a coffee cup he drank from. Ran the DNA. He’s a definite match for you, Mr. Tanner.”

“Jace,” he corrected absent-mindedly, still gazing intently at the photo. “You said Carson. That pulls at a memory. I think that was my name. Before the adoption.” He paused. “That means Eli was never adopted.”

“Right,” the PI confirmed. “Eli Carson went into the system at age five. Wanted to stay with his three-year-old brother, but that request was not honored. Your mother was an addict. Lost her parental rights. No father ever in the picture.”

“Alcohol or drugs?”

“Both.”

Jace barely touched alcohol and had never tried drugs. Something in the back of his mind had told him he was given up because one or both parents were addicts. He was too driven to let some addiction get in his way.

“What else?”

“He skipped a couple of grades in elementary school and then skipped another one. Graduated high school at fourteen. Rice at seventeen. Med school at twenty. Board certified in family medicine. He’s worked in the ER of a large Houston hospital for seven years.

Promoted to head of ER several years ago. ”

“Have you talked to anyone at that hospital?” he asked eagerly.

“I did. Dr. Carson is well liked by staff and patients alike. He’s dedicated. Knowledgeable. A little on the quiet side but can take command of a situation when necessary.”