Page 28

Chapter 8

S hane had to leave his office to get work done that afternoon. He kept finding his attention wandering to Quinn and every so often, the man would look back at him and that enticing pink color would fill his cheeks. Shane had half expected him to be prudish with the way he turned red so easily, but there had been only willingness and fire in his reactions that morning. Shane had been completely intrigued by the point-by-point speech Quinn had given him. The blowjob had happened because he just had to see what the guy looked like when really flustered.

He hadn’t expected to enjoy it quite as much as he had.

His belly flip-flopped every time he remembered the way Quinn had raised his ass up off the chair. His response had been so base, so honest and passionate, Shane had been surprised. He wanted more. A lot more.

So, he found some bullshit excuse to go into the field, promising to be back in a couple of hours. His bullshit excuse turned into a real one when Mayor Spring asked him to come by his house.

Shane pulled into the long, private driveway and stopped at the gate. The security guard let him through, and he stared in shock at the house he eventually reached. It wasn’t nearly as large as he’d expected given the security, but it was definitely a nice place. He parked outside the garage on the ground floor, admiring the old-fashioned doors—wide and wooden, like those found on a barn, four on the double-car side. They looked like they pulled outward to open.

The mayor stood next to them, dressed more casually than Shane had ever seen him, in jeans and a sweatshirt. He was even barefoot. Tall and crazy slim, he made Shane think of Ichabod Crane, for some reason.

Not far from the mayor stood a tall man with impressively broad shoulders. His dark hair was buzzed close to his head in a military cut. He was dressed in a nice dark suit, but even at a quick glance, Shane could pick out the faint outline of a gun. Shane had seen the personal bodyguard hanging in the mayor’s shadow on a few other occasions, but they’d never spoken and the mayor never introduced him.

Shane stepped out of his car and the mayor stepped forward with his hand out.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice. We’ve got a few minutes before my girls get home from school, so how about a drink?” He waved Shane around to the back of the house. “My man cave is actually a part of the basement.”

Thick woods surrounded the house, and Shane admired the beauty of the already changing leaves as he followed the man to a back porch. There was another deck over it. The house had been built into a hill with a walk-out basement, nice and cozy.

“I love this room,” he murmured as he stepped through the back door. Polished dark wood floors stretched out to encompass both a living area and a massive bar. A deep blue color had been painted on the walls and even on the ceiling between heavy, wooden beams that matched the floor. A massive leather L-shaped couch faced a stone fireplace and the flat-screen television built right into one of the paneled walls. “This room just screams ‘man cave.’ Even with all the pictures of your kids on the walls.”

The same deep laugh that he heard on television spilled from the mayor as he padded to the bar. “What’s your poison?”

“Bourbon if you have it.”

“Only the best.” He poured two fingers into a highball glass and slid it across the bar.

Shane took it and walked to the wall that held pictures of his two daughters. “You have beautiful girls.”

“Thank you. I think so, too. I wasn’t going to run again after…well, after losing their mother.” He walked over to stare at the pictures. “But I have to stop and remind myself of why I first got into politics. I really do want a better world for my kids and their kids.” He stopped and self-consciously smirked at Shane. “And that’s not just some line because I’m running for reelection. I truly believe it. This country needs some work.”

“That’s for sure. I’m sorry about your wife.” Shane, like the rest of Cincinnati, had been shocked and saddened to hear of her passing. A fall down the stairs. Something that sudden and unexpected had to have devastated this family. Shane’s mother had dropped dead at the age of forty—years after she’d left him and his dad. He hadn’t seen her in four years when he’d heard of her death. Pushing that aside, he took a sip of the bourbon and enjoyed the burn.

“How is the search going? Any progress?”

“Some. It’s been a slow process. I’ve got—” he started to mention having someone on the case with him, but decided against it. “I’ve got traps set, and I attended your speech yesterday and took pictures of the protestors. I’m currently tracking them down. It takes time.”

“With the election in less than a month, do you think you’ll be able to find this person before then?”

“That’s my goal. Has there been any more personal contact?”

The mayor nodded, his warm expression growing grimmer. “I printed it out upstairs.” There was a slam from above and the smile that spread across the man’s face was huge and genuine. “There are my girls now. Come meet them and I’ll get you the papers.”

The upstairs held cathedral ceilings over a large living area and open kitchen, separated only by a long island. Two girls were busy taking off backpacks and shoes. He knew one was twelve and the other fourteen, but they looked younger. They must have gotten their short height from their mother. A woman Shane assumed was a nanny, a pretty blonde in her early twenties, walked into the kitchen and pulled bottled waters out of the refrigerator. She gave Shane a small smile before she started rummaging through cabinets.

“Shane, this is Miranda and Sylvie—two strange young women who wandered into my house and won’t leave.”

“Dad!” The taller one griped as she rolled her eyes. She had a bolder personality and stared at Shane with open curiosity.

The other one quietly walked over to hug her father. Both had the same black hair as their father, the same green eyes.

“Do you two have homework?”

The older one nodded and opened her backpack to pull out books. The nanny—did girls this age still have nannies?—set out bowls of pretzels. They obviously had a set routine, because within moments both girls were at the breakfast bar working.

“Come with me. We’ll get the printout from my office.” Shane nodded and followed the mayor down the hall into a medium-sized room lined with bookshelves. It looked like an impressive collection of law books all around a large dark-wood desk. The setup was exactly what you’d expect the mayor or any political official to have.

“When did the message arrive?” Shane asked as Gerald stepped behind his desk.

“Yesterday.” He shuffled through the stack of files and other papers on his desk until he finally came to the single sheet of paper that he was looking for. “It was emailed to my personal account.” He handed it over to Shane, frowning so that deep furrows dug into his handsome face.

The message was different than the first, but the cryptic threat was the same:

I am dismantling this nest of vipers.

Your willing protectors won’t be able to save you this time.

Villefort has fallen.

Danglars has fallen.

You are next.

You will lose it all and the truth will come out.

Brenda Montgomery Spring

“It’s all a bunch of nonsense. I have no idea what the person is referring to and the fact that they keep using my wife’s name…” The crack in Gerald’s voice brought Shane’s eyes back up to the other man. He felt for him. Losing a beloved wife and then seeing his attacker use her name in such a disrespectful manner. It was more than painful…it was odd.

“I’ve seen your wife’s name in newspapers a few times, and it was always listed as Brenda Spring. Did she usually include Montgomery? That’s her maiden name, correct?”

“Yes, and no, she didn’t use it after we married.” Gerald paused and gave a little shake of his head as if to clear it. “I thought this person was using it as a way to prove that they know my personal life. But my wife made no secret that she was born a Montgomery. You could find that in a two-minute search online.”

“Villefort and Danglars?”

“No idea. Never heard of them.”

Shane nodded, staring down at the paper in his hands. The names sounded familiar, tickling some shadowy part in the back of his brain, but he couldn’t begin to guess where he’d heard them. He needed to get back to his office and start digging around. Talk to Quinn. The hacker had a quick brain and an insane store of random knowledge. It would be good to bounce the note off him.

“Shane, I need this settled as quickly as possible,” Gerald said with a new urgency.

“I know, sir.”

“I’m worried about my girls. I need to protect them. I’m terrified of this person getting desperate when there’s nothing to find. I don’t want my girls in danger.”

“I won’t let that happen, sir. I know we can track this hacker down and catch them before the election.” He set his empty glass on the edge of the mayor’s desk and folded the threatening message before putting it in his back pocket.

“Thank you, Shane.” Gerald paused and pressed his fingers onto his forehead, rubbing. His gaze became distant, staring off in the direction of the kitchen. “I…I just don’t know what I’d do without my girls.”

“I’ve noticed that you also have a private bodyguard.”

Gerald nodded. “Carl Smythe. He’s been with me for a few years now. Since I first took office. There were some threats in the early days. Nothing major. Just some noisy trolls. I brought him on just to settle my wife’s mind.”

“Do you have any other security?”

“The usual home security and the guard at the gate during the day. I don’t want to bring on more. It would only disrupt my girls’ lives and frighten them.”

“I understand. We’ll get this taken care of soon. I know it.”

Gerald led the way back to the main entrance. Shane stopped at another wall of pictures. There were more of the mayor’s wife here and Shane stepped close, his attention caught by several. He recognized the greenhouse from the Krohn Conservatory. Brenda Spring, small and delicate, stood smiling with a group of people in several of them.

“She adored that place,” the mayor said as he came up behind him.

“Did your wife work there?” Shane pointed at one of the images. “This looks like a company Christmas photo.”

“She volunteered there while our daughters were in school during the days.”

“Thanks. I’m going to get back to the office and see what I can find about this email.”

The girls waved good-bye as he left. Before Shane was out of the driveway, he had his father on the phone. “Hey, Dad, do you still have that friend at Krohn Conservatory? Could you hook me up with her?”

There was a clatter in the background and the loud rock music Abe played while working in his garage was abruptly turned off. “Son, she’s sixty.…And since when do you need help getting a date?”

Shane snorted. “Like I’d ask you to set me up. And with a woman?”

His dad laughed.

“This is work related. And yeah, I do fine on that all on my own.”

“Oh really?” More shuffling noises sounded and he wondered what kind of furniture the old man was building now. He’d been an accountant most of Shane’s life and he still worked freelance—especially during tax season. But more and more, he’d been leaning toward woodworking projects. They’d started out as gifts for friends, and it turned out Abe Stephens had a knack for it. Plus, he loved it so Shane was thrilled people had started ordering pieces from him. Abe cleared his throat. “Anyone you want to introduce to your old man, yet?”

Quinn’s face, slack with pleasure, filled his mind and he grew warm thinking about seeing that expression again later tonight. “No, Dad. I’m not looking for anything serious enough for that.”

His father sighed. “I just hate to think of you being lonely.”

Shane had lucked out with his dad. He’d been young when Shane was born—only eighteen. He’d taken on the responsibility and never given up on him, not even when Shane’s mother had left them. Now, at a still young and robust forty-nine, he’d become Shane’s best friend. Not once had he ever had an issue with Shane’s sexuality either. In fact, there were times Shane thought his father might swing both ways. He’d caught him eyeing both sexes in the past. “Like you are? When’s the last time you went on a date?”

“That’s different.”

That had always been his dad’s pat answer to anything about himself. Shane’s mother had done a number on him, the bitch.

Million-dollar homes slid past the window of Shane’s car. Neatly manicured lawns accented by perfectly sculpted hedges stretched as far as the eye could see. But there were no kids playing on those perfect lawns. No bikes in the driveway. Definitely a different world from where he grew up. “So, Dad, about your friend. Can you give me her number? It has to do with a case.”

“I’ll text it since I can tell you’re driving.”

Amused, Shane listened while his dad muttered and looked up the number. At thirty-one, you’d think his father would stop with the protective behavior but he didn’t. And he never would either. He had the overbearing, caretaker personality down pat and Shane knew he was number one in Abe’s responsibility category.

Damn, he loved his dad. “Hey, you want to meet up for beers and a game this weekend? I think OSU is playing Michigan.”

“Sure! You gonna make those buffalo wings again?”

“Aren’t you supposed to have issues with acid reflux at your age?” he teased.

“Stomach’s lined with iron. It’s a Stephens trait and you know it.”

True. Shane could eat all the spicy food he wanted and not ever have issues. “I’ll make the buffalo wings, Dad. And maybe I’ll have a friend over as well.” What the fuck? That had just slipped out. He held his breath when his dad whooped loudly.

“Bout time!”

“He’s just a friend. We’re working a case, so he’ll probably be around.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Shane rolled his eyes as he set the time and hung up. He had no idea why he’d told his dad Quinn would be there, but it was too late to take it back now.