Chapter Two
Nate
I flipped through another brochure, this one appearing even more pretentious than the last venue. My face must have reflected my thoughts because Nat asked, “Not it either?”
Running my fingers through my hair, I snorted. “It looks like Mother Nature threw up all over the place. I’ve never seen so many flowers in my life. I can’t believe there are roses left in the world after they decorated this place.” I turned the colorful brochure so Nat could get a look. “And everything is some shade of pink. I don’t hate pink, but come on…”
Nat tilted her head, giving the photo a good once-over. “I see your point, but I doubt you’d need to do all of”—she circled her hand—“that. It’s probably just an example. Try and see beyond the floral explosion. Does the place have any other amenities that fit?”
I read through the options, along with their prices, and my eyes widened. “Oh, they’ve got plenty of amenities, but I don’t think Perry and I can afford a tenth of them.” That wasn’t completely true. I had decent savings, but I didn’t want to spend it all on a single day of my life. Granted, it was an important day —maybe the most important day—but so was having a home to go back to afterward.
That was another thing. Along with finding a venue for the wedding, Perry and I’d started house hunting. I had a house, but it was two stories and both bedrooms were on the top floor. After Perry’s surgery, I’d carried him up to his apartment—piggyback style. Perry’s knee was getting better every day, and he was now able to manage the stairs in his apartment by himself, but I didn’t want that to be an issue later down the road. Also, my house was a lot farther away from Maverick Insurance. Perry’s bus ride would be very long. Given his neurologic considerations, driving wasn’t the best option for him. I wasn’t even sure he could get a driver’s license.
I’d been staying with Perry nearly every night. I needed to sell my home, but I wanted something bigger for the two of us than his small, one-bedroom apartment. Maybe the cats would lose some weight if they had more room to roam. Doubtful, but crazier things had happened.
“What does Perry say?” Nat asked while her fingers flew across her keyboard. I had no idea how she multitasked like that. I wasn’t sure if it was a female thing or a mother thing. Maybe it was just a Nat thing.
I tossed the brochure on my desk, covering my own keyboard as I leaned back in my chair and stared across Nat’s and my desks. They were front-to-front, and we had a good view of each other. “Perry doesn’t care that much. He said he’d like something besides heading to the courthouse, but other than that, he just wants us to get married.”
Nat peeked around her computer monitor, eyes narrowed. “Listen to Perry.”
“I am. It’s just…”
Nat stopped typing and rolled her chair so she could see me better. “Just what?”
I blew out a breath. “I want to give him something special. I want to show him just what he means to me. God, that sounds corny.” Love really did turn you into a sap. Hearing someone else say that a couple of years ago would have turned my stomach.
“I think he already understands what he means to you. Perry figured that out the day you proposed. Hell, he’s a smart guy, quick on the uptake and all that. I’ll bet he knew long before.” Nat rolled back to her computer. “You’ll figure it out. I’ve got faith, even if you don’t. You always come up with something. You’ve been engaged all of two months. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Nat was right. It was maddening how often that happened. Venues had to be booked months to years ahead. However, I hadn’t seen a venue yet that I wanted to book. I needed to start looking outside the wedding box.
“Come on, Harmon. Get cracking on your report. Despite what you think, it won’t write itself, and I’m not doing it for you.” Nat made sure I could see her glare when she said the last. “It’s bad enough I’m going to have to sludge through things alone for the next four days.”
I groaned. You’d think time off would be a blessing. Typically, it was. This time, I wasn’t so sure. “Don’t remind me.”
“Are you telling me you don’t want to go now?”
“No. If Perry’s going, then so am I. I would prefer neither one of us went.” And God, wasn’t that the truth? “Four days spent with Malcom Johnson. Do me a favor and shoot me now.”
“Careful what you wish for. You and I both know Malcom’s a marksman. Don’t tempt fate.”
Perry’s boss, Malcom Johnson, put a bullet between Brian VanHorn’s eyes. One shot was enough. He’d saved Perry’s life, and I would forever be grateful. I was also forever suspicious.
“These retreat things are always annoying,” I bemoaned. My timing couldn’t be worse as Captain Barrington eased up beside me. For such an imposingly large man, his movements were ninja-silent.
“Work retreats are healthy for everyone,” Captain Barrington said.
I leaned back, clasping my hands behind my head so I could stare up at my boss. “Depends. I doubt spending four days with the group from Maverick Insurance will be healthy .” What did suspected assassins get together and talk about anyway? Did they need group therapy? Were they suddenly assaulted by waves of guilt? Maybe that was what Dr. Lydia Schroder was for. She was the psychologist they employed. Did she know what their employees got up to? Were some employees legit insurance agents? My brain hurt contemplating the possibilities.
Barrington’s large palm settled on my shoulder, the pressure light as he squeezed. “This might be a good opportunity to do a little digging.”
I groaned even louder. “Perry loves his job. Malcom Johnson is near sainthood in his book, and Delia Carpenter is a good friend. She’s even wormed her way into Gayle’s life.” I’d never wanted to be more wrong than I was about Maverick Insurance. When the truth came out, Perry would be devastated. I just had to keep him from becoming a casualty in that revelation.
“Have you spoken to Mr. Johnson recently?” Barrington asked.
“Not for a few weeks,” I admitted.
“Might be a good idea to touch base with him before the two of you head out. I don’t like how exposed you’re going to be. Billings State Park is a big place, and you’re going to be out of our jurisdiction. It’ll take time to get to you if something goes sideways.”
“I agree,” Nat chimed in. “Willie Slater’s been radio silent since sending those roses to Perry after his surgery.”
This time, my growl was low and full of rage. “Fucking Willie.” He’d waited until the last day of Perry’s hospital stay. Perry was relieved to be going home. We had him all packed up and seated in his wheelchair, ready to head for the exit when the flowers arrived—a dozen blood-red roses. The arrangement was beautiful. It was also suspicious. Who sent someone in the hospital a dozen red roses? I knew I hadn’t sent them. Gayle was with me when they arrived, and she’d shrugged and shaken her head. The planter Malcom sent was already in Perry’s lap and the small, stuffed cat Delia dropped off was beside it. Russ had made Perry’s favorite cookies, and they were all gone.
In short, the list of possible suspects was used up.
The card said it all: Mobile prey is far more exciting, and I love hunting. Willie. The card was kept in evidence. It had been checked for prints and came back clean. I didn’t doubt who they were from, but proof would have been nice. Touch DNA had only come back to me.
We hadn’t gotten anything since. That didn’t put me at ease, especially with us heading into a state park.
“Are you sure Perry really wants to go?” Nat asked, and I reluctantly nodded.
“He does. Perry knows the risks, but he wants to be a part of things now that he’s feeling better. The knee is healed. Now, he needs to use it and build up mobility and strength. Perry wants to get out and participate in activities he’s missed out on the last four years.” Hands folded in my lap, I stared down at my white knuckles. “Am I an idiot for thinking he’ll be safest in Malcom and Delia’s company?”
“Oddly, no,” Barrington said while shifting so I could see him without having to strain my neck. “They’re protective of him, and from what you’ve said, Johnson wants nothing more than Slater off the playing field. Malcom Johnson is a man who thrives on control. He has to. Otherwise, his business goes to shit. Willie Slater is a loose end. One that needs clipped.”
“I hate to sound repetitive, but I agree,” Nat said. “Willie is a festering thorn. Malcom needs him removed to stop the infection from spreading.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You think Willie successfully going rogue will encourage others to do the same?” I had no idea what kind of hold Malcom had on his employees.
Nat shrugged. “I don’t think any of us have enough intel to sort that out, but I can see it as a possibility. Either way, at the very least, it looks bad.”
I didn’t think Nat was wrong. In fact, I’d had similar thoughts over the past few months.
“Do you think Malcom would share information on Willie if he had it?” The captain asked.
“If he thought sharing that information would keep Perry safe? Maybe. I think it depends on if he believes he can take care of the problem on his own. Regardless, he hasn’t contacted me recently. If he does know something, Malcom’s being stingy about it.”
“Maybe he’s not having any more luck than we are.” Nat’s disgusted disappointment was loud and clear. “Willie’s a ghost. No, he’s a poltergeist,” Nat corrected. “Poltergeists are just as sneaky but way more dangerous.”
I blinked, staring at my partner. “Know a lot about poltergeists, do you?”
Nat shrugged. “Russ likes those ghost-hunting shows. Most of the time, I’m half asleep while he’s watching, but that doesn’t mean I don’t pick up on a few things here and there.” Nat raised her coffee thermos and did a little salute. “Welcome to the thrilling life of marriage.”
I grinned. While Nat made it clear she thought her and Russ’s life was boring, that’s exactly what I wanted with Perry.
With a final pat on my shoulder, Captain Barrington turned and walked towards his office, saying, “Do me a favor and reach out to Malcom before you leave.”
With my back to Captain Barrington, I watched Nat’s features as she followed his path. When she relaxed, I knew he was behind his office door.
“You realize that wasn’t a request,” Nat said.
“Already reaching for my phone,” I answered while pulling up Malcom’s information. I’d send him a text and see if he could meet later today, maybe when I dropped Perry off at work.
Nat spoke while I was typing. “I don’t know whether to be scared shitless of Malcom Johnson or grateful as hell.”
“Do what I do and split the difference. I think right now, that’s the best any of us can do.”
“ I ’m capable of riding the bus now,” Perry said as we walked toward the wide doors of Maverick Insurance Company. “I hate that you keep taking time off to drive me and that you get up in the wee hours of the morning to pick me up. You’re not getting enough sleep, Nate.”
It was a familiar argument. “I get plenty of sleep.” With my arm wrapped around Perry’s shoulders, I leaned over and kissed his forehead. He was so much steadier now that he’d had his knee replaced.
“I worry.”
“I know, but I promise I’m fine. Besides, I’d worry about you on that bus. Once Willie’s out of the picture, you can ride the bus until your heart’s content.” We both knew that probably wasn’t true. Not that I’d drive Perry everywhere like I did now—only that I’d still drop him off and pick him up when possible.
Perry huffed. “What if we never catch him?”
Perry’s question ate at one of my greatest fears. How long did you continue being vigilant? When did Willie Slater become a distant, unpleasant memory? Would the man ever give up and move on? I had speculative answers, but nothing definitive.
“We’ll get him.” I didn’t necessarily promise anything. I knew better than that. I had to believe that Willie Slater would be stopped, that I’d be there the day he was either locked behind bars or the life faded from his eyes. I’m not necessarily a malicious person, but I had to say that I’d prefer the latter over the former.
I reached for the door and opened the wide glass pane. While Maverick’s employees were winding down for the day, the reception staff was still in. Perry and I got a couple of genuine smiles, along with a wave and “good evening.” Neither said a word when I walked onto the elevator with Perry.
He reached over and pressed the button for the second floor. I’d be heading to the fourth as soon as Perry got out.
“Will you stop by and say goodbye after you’ve spoken with Malcom?”
“Of course. I’m not sure how long it will take, though.”
“Hopefully not long. We’ve got packing to do. And by we , I mean you.” Perry smirked as he tilted his head and stared up at me. If I lived to be a hundred, I didn’t think I’d ever get used to the shifting shades of blue swimming within his eyes.
The elevator door dinged, and I pressed our lips together, savoring one last taste and touch. When he pulled away, eyes hazy and cheeks flushed, my chest swelled with pride. I’d placed that blissed out look on his face. It was a heady feeling.
“Get going,” I said. “I’ll see you soon.”
Perry barely escaped before the elevator doors closed again. Leaning against the wall, I rode up to the fourth floor. I’d been to visit Malcom Johnson at work over a half dozen times in the last year and couldn’t say I looked forward to this meeting. Malcom was a sly fox. He often said a lot without saying anything at all. It was a game, and I was tired of playing. I had no idea how people like him built a life on that kind of subterfuge. I found it far too exhausting.
When the doors opened, I reluctantly pushed off the wall and headed down the hall. One of the other executives was still in. She looked up, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. Her expression was far from congenial. Despite the cool reception, I nodded in her direction and offered a smile. In response, she rose from behind her desk, walked to her door, and closed it. I heard the snick of the lock as I passed.
“Nice. Very welcoming,” I mumbled, but kept pace toward Malcom’s office at the end of the hall. His door was open, and the man of the hour was sitting behind his desk. His dove-gray blazer hung open, and the top button of his crisp white shirt was undone. Elbows propped on his desk and hands folded, Malcom’s chin rested on those crossed fingers. His deep-green eyes were lightly hooded, and his lips were tipped into a barely-there grin.
“Detective Harmon, how good it is to see you. Please, have a seat.”
I’d been at work all day too, and didn’t look nearly as put together and pristine as Malcom Johnson.
“Malcom, thank you for seeing me. I know you’re busy, especially with the retreat starting tomorrow.”
Malcom’s grin grew, showing a line of white teeth. “Nonsense. I always have time for you. I hope Perry is still doing well. At least, I haven’t heard any different.”
“Perry’s fine,” I answered easily. “I think even his orthopedic surgeon is impressed with how far he’s come in such a short time.”
Malcom’s smile softened and appeared far more genuine. “Perry is a marvel. His father would be very proud of him.”
I stiffened at the reminder. Unbeknownst to Perry, Malcom and Perry’s father had been friends. From what I understood, Perry’s father was a mentor of sorts to Malcom. I hated the implication. Perry’s father had lived a completely different life before Perry’s birth—one that Perry knew nothing about. It was a life I only had cursory knowledge of.
Clearing my throat, I said, “You would know better than I would. However, I can’t imagine you’d be wrong.”
“I am seldom wrong , Detective.”
“You were wrong about Willie Slater,” I stated flatly.
“Hmm . . . in a way, you are correct. I was never wrong about Willie’s character. He performed his duties as expected. Here at Maverick Insurance, our customers have varying needs, and we must hire different personalities to fit those needs. Willie fit a particular niche that was very lucrative.”
My fingers danced along the armrests. “Willie Slater is a psychopath.”
“I do not disagree.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I inhaled deeply and begged the universe for a modicum of patience and calm. I’d never be on Malcom’s mentally devious level. Trying to meet him there was a recipe for failure. If I had half a chance, I needed to play to my strengths, and word games weren’t one of them.
“Have you found him yet?” I asked bluntly.
“Willie?” I nodded, and Malcom sighed dramatically. “Sadly, no. I’ve come close.” This time, his smile was bitter. “I’m afraid I still haven’t been able to personally inform Mr. Slater that he no longer has a job here at Maverick Insurance.”
In other words, Malcom hadn’t gotten a chance to kill Willie yet.
“And the retreat? Does that concern you at all?”
Malcom’s eyebrows rose as he leaned back into his chair, hands still clasped and lying on his abdomen. “Is that what this visit is about? You are concerned regarding safety at the retreat?”
“I’m only concerned about one person’s safety—Perry.”
“Understandable. You know that is also a concern of mine.”
I did. “Yes, I do. What I also know is that you’re a cocky asshole who’s so far managed to underestimate Willie Slater’s capability to do harm.”
Malcom’s facial features visibly tightened, little crow’s feet webbing from the corners of his eyes. “Harsh words, Detective.”
“Harsh, but true.” Leaning forward, I grabbed the edge of Malcom’s desk. “Listen, Malcom, Perry’s my only concern here. You and I are playing on opposite sides of the field, and Perry’s stuck in the middle. He’s been hurt enough. He loves working here. He loves Delia, and he thinks the world of you. One day, he’ll need to learn the truth, or as much of the truth as will out. When that day comes, I’ll be the one picking up the pieces. I understand that you care about Perry, and I’m grateful for that. What I also understand is that you’re dangerous to be around. Willie Slater has a hard-on for Perry. He wants to hurt him in the worst way possible, and given Willie’s sick mind, that can come in a lot of different forms.”
I let my words settle, watching Malcom’s expression and trying to discern a glimmer of his thoughts. The task was nearly impossible.
“You believe Willie will make a play for Perry at the retreat?”
“Don’t you?” I asked, exasperation clear.
“Obviously.”
My mouth slid open. I’d been prepared to argue when Malcom disagreed or tried to reassure me. I wasn’t prepared for him to admit it.
While I struggled to find the words, Malcom had no such limitations. “Like you, Detective, I tire of playing this game. Mr. Slater needs to be informed of his expulsion from the company. Since Willie has decided to make that difficult, I decided to change the playing field.”
My dropped mouth snapped shut with a clack of teeth. “Son of a bitch, you planned this retreat on purpose.”
“Of course I did. Retreats are good for company morale.”
“Damn it, that’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“I assure you, I am fully aware of what you intended to imply. I am hopeful this retreat will help company employees work through many problems and eliminate troublesome weeds. Perry’s attendance, while not mandatory, will be exceedingly helpful in that regard.”
My heart pounded while my mind spun. “You’re using him as bait.”
Malcom tsked. “My dear, Detective. Perry has been bait for months. I am simply changing the venue. Stacking the cards, if you’d like.” Malcom’s grin didn’t light his eyes. “I’ve never lost a match before, and I don’t intend to start now.”
My brain screamed for me to rush to the second floor, grab Perry, and hop on the quickest flight to the farthest reaches of the world. But would that be enough? Against someone like Willie Slater, I didn’t think so. He’d keep coming. He’d keep taunting Perry and me until he made good on his threats.
“I see your mind spinning, your gut reaction to flee. I also see that you know that won’t work, not against someone as determined as William Slater. Trust me, Detective, I know the type of man Willie is. I know his mind better than you, and I am better equipped to drag him to heel. You’re too good of a man to successfully hunt Willie Slater. And for Perry’s sake, I am grateful. To truly stop Willie, you’d need to turn into me, and that is the last thing I desire. I’m doing you a favor, Detective. Take it as such and be grateful.”
Grateful? I wanted to choke on the word. I wanted to rip my hair out and scream until my throat was raw. Grateful? How in the hell was I supposed to muster that emotion?
On shaky legs, I pushed out of my chair. Thankfully, my voice was steady when I said, “I’ll be grateful when Willie Slater is six feet under.”
Malcom’s smile took up too much of his face. “I will expect your undying gratitude soon. Until then, have a good evening, and I will see you tomorrow. Don’t worry, we have all kinds of activities planned. The weather is expected to be lovely, and the park is beautiful. I think you and Perry will have a good time. Maverick Insurance retreats are always relaxing and refreshing.”
At a complete loss for words, I turned and walked down the hall. Malcom’s final “good evening” floated after me. I didn’t turn and offer the same platitudes. I boarded the elevator in a daze and didn’t realize I was in the lobby until I pushed the door open, and warm air hit me in the face. I’d promised Perry I’d stop and say goodbye, but I couldn’t make good on it. He’d know immediately something was wrong. I needed time to wrap my head and heart around what I’d just learned. I needed time to get my game face on.
Pulling out my phone, I texted Perry my apologies and did something I rarely did: I lied. I told him I’d gotten a message from Nat and that she needed me ASAP. I’d fill Nat in later, and she’d cover for me when she understood my reasoning. It was a tiny lie, but it felt huge because it was covering for an even bigger one.
How long could I protect Perry from the knowledge in my head? Maybe the better question was if I should keep protecting him at all.