Page 18 of Defending Love

Chapter Seventeen

Dani

E li’s jaw clenched as his nostrils flared. “A fucking obvious one.” He lifted his hand. “I need to find out how they knew the safe was accessed and how they found us.”

I shook my head and hurried toward the kitchen. The blue and white striped bag was on the chair where we’d left it. Eli was a step behind me.

“What do you think they want?” I asked, peering into the depths.

“Just a minute.”

I stood puzzled as Eli hurried up the stairs. In less than a minute he was back with my phone in hand. “I want to ask Carol tomorrow if these uniforms” —he showed me the paused video on my screen— “are similar to the people who she saw last Wednesday.”

Without gloves, I dumped the contents of the bag on the kitchen table, creating a momentary ruckus as I scanned the variety of items.

“Dani, you should be wearing gloves.”

Inhaling sharply, I turned to Eli who was now behind me. “I have every right to go inside my mother’s home. I don’t understand what those men thought they were doing.”

He reached for my shoulders. “Intimidation. That’s what it was.”

I peered upward into his green stare. Unlike earlier, his orbs were solid green, calm, and reassuring. “You were scared earlier, when you came upstairs for me.” It wasn’t as much a question as it was a statement.

“I was concerned,” Eli admitted. “I knew they weren’t real FBI, and I didn’t know what they had planned or more importantly, how they found us.”

“I’ve never seen you anything but stoic.”

He ran his large palms over my shoulders and down the arms of my sweatshirt. “It’s the fucking blurred line. You mean more to me than an assignment.”

“I was scared for you, too.”

He leaned closer and kissed my hair. “Don’t worry about me.

If anyone would have not made it through that meeting, it would have been them.

I just don’t reach for my gun as the first option.

I wanted to hear what they had to say.” His smile grew.

“They thought you would be an easy mark to intimidate, and they were wrong. If you have that attorney you mentioned on speed dial, I suggest you let him or her know that something is off.”

“Seriously?” I spun, looking for a clock. “It’s after nine o’clock.”

Eli nodded. “The more people who know the better.” His gaze met mine. “Have you spoken to anyone since we got here?”

“No. I left Damien a message.”

“Do the two of you share your location on your phones?”

“Yes, but…” Shaking my head, I thought about my attorney.

I hadn’t spoken to Stephen since the cemetery. If he’d sent me information on Preston Ayers, I hadn’t had the chance to look at it. “Fine, I’ll call him.” My gaze went to the table covered in things. “What about all that?”

Eli reached in his suit coat and pulled out another pair of gloves.

I quirked a brow.

“I told you I restocked.” He tilted his chin toward the stairs. “I’ll put this all back in the bag and take it up to your room. I have a few theories, and there may be answers upstairs in the computer room. You can either go through these things in there or in your room.”

I looked around the first floor, remembering our unwelcome visitors. “In there with you. I don’t feel like being alone.”

Despite my desire for togetherness, I spent nearly the next twenty minutes in my bedroom in conversation with Stephen Elliott, the head of Sinclair’s legal department, and a close friend of my father’s.

When he mentioned Mr. Ayers, I told him the truth.

I hadn’t checked my emails. I told Stephen about the visit from the FBI or fake FBI.

He advised me that Eli’s answers were correct.

No law enforcement officer may legally enter a house or even a rented villa without a warrant.

That warrant must specify what the law enforcement officers were searching for.

Rarely was a blanket search warrant issued.

However, if during their legal search, they came across illegal material or substances, those too could be confiscated.

“I don’t have anything illegal.” My gaze went to the striped bag.

Did Dad have something illegal?

Stephen laughed. “Dani, I’ve known you all your life. I highly doubt you would have anything illegal. I’ll contact the Jacksonville field office tomorrow morning and check on the identities of Special Agents Timmons and Wilson.”

“Thank you,” I replied as I pulled the large manila envelope from the bag with my gloved hands. Turning it over multiple times, I spoke, “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask.”

That felt like Eli’s answer when he said there were times he might not be able to give me the answers I wanted.

“You knew Dad well.”

“My best friend.”

“Did Dad have any secrets that could have led to his death or something he was hiding?” I pried the metal clasp open.

I couldn’t open the envelope without tearing the paper.

Stephen replied, “I’ve been thinking about that since the shooting. I can’t think of anything. Derek was a shrewd businessman, but he wasn’t unethical and wouldn’t do anything illegal. He was fair with his employees and with the business. You said you opened his safe. Was there anything there?”

“We haven’t gone through all of it yet. Did you know Dad had hundreds of my grandfather’s and great-grandfather’s journals?”

Steam. I could steam it open. I tried to stay focused and listened to Stephen.

“Oh yes. Derek could spend hours reading those over and over.”

“The ones in his desk drawer are gone.”

“Gone? They were there when I was there.”

My forehead furrowed. “You looked in Dad’s desk?”

“Yes. It’s where I found his insurance papers and will.”

“But you had a copy of his last will and testament at your office.”

“Right, but I was afraid if he hadn’t destroyed the old one, there would be consequences. Remember, the clause about selling Sinclair? He rewrote the will after his illness.”

That was right.

“Why do you think Dad liked those journals so much?” I asked.

“I don’t have a good answer for you. I can just say that he derived pleasure from knowing the family business was still going strong, despite ups and downs.”

“Were there downs that were more severe than I realized?”

“Dani, we should talk in person. You could ask Damien.”

“When?” I pressured.

Stephen sighed. “During the dark Darius days was probably the worst that I can remember. I was tasked with investigating if Chapter 11 was the right route for Sinclair.”

I gasped. “I thought Dad was thinking of selling to Eli Lilly.”

“There were multiple options. Lilly’s offer wasn’t what we expected. Thankfully, Sinclair secured the patent on Propanolol and all that was avoided.”

That was a lot for me to think about. “Thank you, Stephen, for taking my call so late.”

His tone lightened. “Give my love to Marsha, and when you’re back home, we can chat.”

“Goodbye.” My stomach twisted as I disconnected the call.

Carrying the envelope, I walked from my bedroom to the computer room.

For a moment, I stood in the door frame, watching as Eli worked.

His intense gaze was glued to the screen, his forehead furrowed with concentration, and his untethered hair curled to his sharp chin.

He was so enthralled as his long fingers flew over the keyboards, working between three different stations at the same time, I almost hated to disturb him.

Finally, I said, “Hey.”

His piercing green stare met mine. “Hey.” His gaze swept over me from my messy hair to my pink toenails. “You’re fucking stunning.”

Warmth filled my cheeks. “You said I had bedhead.”

Eli scoffed. “I said they’d believe you were in bed. That doesn’t mean you aren’t beautiful.” He smirked. “It’s hard for me to look at you and not think about my face buried between your legs.”

Thankfully, the sweatshirt would hide my hardening nipples. “That all ended rather abruptly.”

He nodded. “It did.” His gaze landed on the envelope. “What did you find?”

“I don’t know.” I lifted it. “Tearing it open seems wrong. I was thinking about steam.”

“That would work.”

As Eli stood, he seemed to double in height. The sight of his shirt reminded me that we had unbuttoned it earlier, and I ran my palm over his muscular chest.

He pointed to the door. “Let’s take it in the small bathroom in the hallway. We can turn on the shower and let it run for a while.”

My lips curled. “That’s a good idea.”

As we entered the bathroom, Eli turned on the shower, setting the dial to hot. I placed the envelope precariously on the top of the glass door. The flap hung over the spray, close enough for steam, but not to get wet.

“That should do it,” Eli said. Stepping back into the hallway, he asked, “How was Mr. Elliott?”

I shrugged as we walked together back to the computer room.

“He was glad I called. I told him what happened. Tomorrow he’s going to call the Jacksonville FBI field office and check on the two agents.

” I took a few steps closer, running my fingertips over the sleek desk.

“He and my dad were friends and colleagues for my entire life—longer. Stephen even traveled down here with Damien and I after the shooting. I asked him if Dad had any secrets.”

Eli sat in the chair he’d just vacated and leaned back. “And…?”

“He said no, nothing earth-shattering.”

I peeled the latex gloves from my fingers and placed them on one of the desks.

Eli’s gaze went back to the screen before him. “Do you want to see what I’ve found?”

Excitement sounded in my tone. “You found something?” It was the first ray of sunlight in this dark nightmare. I moved closer, standing at his side and peering at the screen.