Taylor refused to let the man on the phone scare her into backing down. She was going to do what she set out to do, and she was going to do it the way she’d planned.
That didn’t mean his words didn’t play in her mind the entire next morning. She was an ambitious woman, but she never set out to step on others on her way to the top. She worked hard and pushed herself, but she didn’t intend for her own drive to stop others from moving up with her, or moving up in their own way.
The first job Taylor had was working at an ice cream shop the first summer she was old enough to work. It was near the touristy areas of Niagara Falls and she made most of her money in tips. She learned quickly if she softened them with a friendly smile, then asked people about their days and shared suggestions about the city, people would give her bigger tips. The money she earned helped her to buy Christmas presents for her three younger siblings that year.
Every year after that, Taylor learned what it took to be successful at whatever job she was doing. It didn’t matter to her if she was bagging groceries, making sandwiches, or running her own company, there was always a secret to the job that helped her to get ahead.
Stepping on others was never her plan, though. Which was what kept her mind on the man on the phone. He made it sound like he knew her from her childhood, and he made it sound like she used him to get ahead.
Taylor’s first boyfriend was someone she met the year she worked at the grocery store. He stocked shelves, and she bagged groceries. They joked about being invisible to the people they were serving. They dated for about six weeks, but her job changed and they saw each other less and eventually fizzled out.
Her phone rang in her hand, startling her. She fumbled with it and dropped the offending item onto her desk where it rattled across the surface until she snatched it back up.
She paused and looked at the screen, then shoved away her fears. She had to answer her phone.
“Taylor Wright.”
“Ms. Wright, this is Steven Anthony,” the head of her security for the building.
“Hi, Steven. What do you need?”
“We have a package here for you. I was told to call you before delivering anything. Would you like me to open it?”
Taylor hated that she wanted to hide behind a man for any reason, but especially for this reason. Whoever sent her the bird got to her. He got into her head and made her doubt her abilities and her strength.
“Yes, please,” Taylor said after a long moment.
“Hold on, Ms. Wright.”
Taylor strained to hear something as Steven unwrapped whatever was delivered to the building. She was grateful for the barrier between herself and the outside world, but she resented it more than anything.
The building didn’t just belong to Taylor and Birds of a Feather. She leased the third floor, but there were five in total. The ground floor was security and retail spaces that were open to the public. One of those retail spaces was going to be the Birds of a Feather flagship store in a few months. Other companies leased the other three floors. A visitor had to check in with security to get a pass to access any of the companies through the shared elevator. All the stairs were only accessible from inside one of the upper floors or with a keycard. The building was secure. As secure as possible.
“It’s clean, Ms. Wright. I’ll send it up.”
“Thank you, Steven. I really appreciate it.”
“Any time, Ms. Wright.”
Taylor set the phone down. Her hands quivered. She squeezed them and flexed them, but the fear running through her was making it harder for her to simply be. She drew a shaky breath and blew it out slowly. She needed to walk.
She left her office and turned toward the marketing department. They were spread out at the conference room table, shouting ideas and scribbling them on the board. Taylor stood in the doorway and listened for a few minutes, letting their excitement fuel her.
She didn’t step on any of them.
Next was accounting. They were a more subdued group, but they were no less important to the success of her company. Taylor felt her confidence returning as she continued past the quiet collection of people way smarter than her.
The art department was another active group with one team that focused on the design of each piece and another that focused on the fabrics and patterns. Taylor wanted her clothing to be bright and colorful. Sure, they had some solid colors, but she insisted on adding pops of color to those, too. She’d been told to hide her shape her entire life, but she was done hiding. She wanted to celebrate her size, and she wanted to encourage other plus-size women to do the same.
Taylor was finally feeling like herself when she made it all the way around to her office. Jessica was at her desk with a large box covering most of the surface.
“What is that?” Taylor asked.
“This is the package that came for you. It’s gorgeous.” Jessica pointed to the large painting.
Taylor recognized it right away. She’d bought it weeks ago at a showing the artist had. It was the perfect piece for her office. In the center was a brightly colored bird on a full color branch. The birds and branch next to it were outlined in black and white, but the colors of the bird in the middle were flowing outward and painting the other birds, giving them all the same beautiful colors.
“I want to put it up right away. I love it.”
“You have an appointment first. He’s already in your office.”
“Who is he?”
Jessica avoided Taylor’s gaze and focused a little too intently on her computer screen. “He’s on your calendar.”
Taylor gave Jessica a not-too-happy look. Jessica was the one responsible for Taylor’s calendar, which meant she was the one who added the meeting. A meeting Taylor didn’t remember setting up, or asking to have set up.
Taylor walked into her office and froze. His back was to her, and she had to stare for just a moment and appreciate the beauty of him. She had no idea who he was, but she was going to enjoy the view inside instead of the one outside her windows that showed the Niagara Gorge.
He shifted his weight and the black jacket he wore stretched tight across his shoulders. He blew out a breath and glanced at his watch, then turned to look at the door.
Taylor flinched slightly at being caught staring at him. His dark eyes pierced into her, scanning and cataloguing her in an instant. Dismissing her, no doubt. She was used to it. Men were interested in her because she was a powerful woman but immediately lost interest when they saw her and realized she wasn’t a stiletto and pants-suit wearing woman who could have been a pin-up model but started a company instead.
“Ms. Wright?” he asked, his voice rough, like he wasn’t accustomed to using it.
Taylor nodded and stepped toward him. “Yes. And you are?”
His dark brow lifted just enough to say he was surprised by the question. The corner of his lips turned up in a tentative, amused way. He tilted his head and said, “I’m Ryker Hamilton,” like that explained his presence. “Your brother asked me to come by. He said you would be expecting me.”
Taylor groaned internally and gave him a you-weren’t-invited smile. “Thank you for coming by, Mr. Hamilton, but my brother is mistaken.”
Her quick dismissal left him with his hand halfway between them. He closed his fist and tucked both hands behind his back, standing at full attention. He definitely had all of hers, but the glint in his eyes that said he thought she was foolish had her standing firm in her refusal of his help.
“I see. Would you mind giving me a few minutes? We can sit and talk. That way, if you change your mind at some point, you know who I am.”
Taylor breathed a laugh and moved behind her desk. She wheeled her chair out of the way and sat down. “My brother is being ridiculous. I appreciate you coming down here, but I assure you, I don’t need whatever kind of help he led you to believe I needed.”
“And you’re not willing to speak to me. Or let me make an assessment of your situation.”
“I don’t have a situation. I receive threats all the time. I’m a powerful woman, and men don’t like that. Men have a tendency to think they’re the only ones who know how to do things. I’m shaking things up. I’m making waves in their pool. They don’t like it. But that doesn’t mean I’m in any real danger. My brother wants to protect me, but he’s forgotten who raised him. Who protected him when we were younger. I’m very capable of taking care of myself.”
Mr. Hamilton studied her closely for a long moment. Taylor refused to squirm under his steady gaze. She knew he was waiting for it, but she learned a long time ago not to show weakness. Men thrived on it. She herself used it in negotiations. She was not going to show him how he was affecting her.
“If you change your mind, here’s my card.” He set it on the corner of the desk. “My company is willing to help you. My personal number is on there. You can call me day or night and I will make myself available for you.”
Taylor choked out a breath, her hand catching it on her lips. “You’re an escort? I thought you were here for security.”
His lips curled up before he had a chance to wrangle them back into submission. “I am, Ms. Wright. But my company is not your typical security company. Plus, I owe your brother a favor.”
“And I’m your favor?” Taylor asked, incredulous that she was a bargaining chip.
Mr. Hamilton shook his head. “Keeping an eye on a beautiful woman is certainly not a hardship.”
“I…” Taylor fumbled over her tongue. She needed to call her brother. What the hell was he thinking sending this guy to her? Taylor could get her own damn dates. Just because she hadn’t had any in longer than she could remember did not mean she needed her brother to set her up.
Mr. Hamilton stood still, waiting for her to say something. Taylor glanced at the card on her desk and drew a breath.
“Thank you for coming in today, Mr. Hamilton. I am sorry I can’t help you pay back the favor you owe my brother.”
He shrugged and moved toward the door. “I’ll find another way. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Wright.”
He nodded and walked out her door, turning toward the elevator and walking away like he was the one who owned the place instead of her.
Taylor sank into her chair and sighed heavily.
“Who was that?” Jessica asked, pausing at the doorway to watch the man walk away. Jessica knew everything about Taylor, including how long it had been since she had gone on a date. Taylor couldn’t help but wonder what Braden said to her to get Jessica to add Mr. Hamilton to her calendar.
“That was a gift from my brother.”
Jessica snorted. “I wish I had a brother who sent me gifts like that. Are you going to go out with him?”
Taylor grabbed the business card from the edge of the desk and stuffed it into her bag. She’d get rid of it later. After giving herself a private moment to fantasize about letting go and giving in to a date with a man like Ryker Hamilton. Private security or not, the man was nice to look at.
“No,” Taylor finally said, answering Jessica’s question. “We have work to do. I don’t have time for dating. What’s next on the agenda?”
Dex walked into the office with his jacket over his arm and the ghost of a damn-she’s-hot smile on his face. Taylor Wright was not what he expected. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but when Braden called and asked him to meet with his sister, Dex assumed she’d be a lot less… intoxicating.
He smothered the look before he ran into his teammates. They would notice in about three seconds and destroy him for it. He had become a loner since their days in the service. Not that he wasn’t interested in women. He’d been focused on himself for the last few years. If he didn’t, he would have ended up another footnote in history of a warrior who returned home and lost his damn mind. A traumatic brain injury could do that to even the strongest of men.
Dex knew he was lucky that his TBI wasn’t worse, but he also knew it meant he had to be careful, which meant putting himself first.
Taylor Wright was the first woman he’d looked at twice since he returned. And damn if she wasn’t worth that second look.
“How was the meeting?” Dunn asked, sticking his head in Dex’s office.
“Nothing came of it.”
“Are you free?”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“Need to bounce some ideas off of you. Parker is out there and we need to find him.”
“Conference room?”
Dunn nodded, and the men walked down the hall to where they had a board set up with Parker front and center. They had pictures of the man, but they were from years earlier. The sheriff was the one pushing the case forward after his daughter was assaulted, but Homeland had a file on Parker. All their leads had dried up, though, and they were eager for the assistance. Dunn agreed, but digging up new dirt on a ghost was proving to be more of a challenge than any of them expected.
“His old shell companies have gone under, but we’re struggling to find the new ones. The assumption is he’s set them up under the names of his closest advisors, but we don’t know who they are. He’s obviously not afraid to drop a body, so anyone he’s willing to trust must be someone very close to him.”
“Does he have any family?”
“Not that we know of.”
“What do we have on him?”
“Obviously not enough. Most of the data is old, which is a big part of the problem.”
“And aside from the latest victim of one of his associates, whose name we don’t know and who we also don’t have an actual photo of, we believe he’s still operating out of this area?”
“We’re fairly sure of that.”
“Why?”
“It seems obvious with this case. Darcy Harris, the sheriff’s daughter… All the cases he told her about were older, but they’re still local cases. She knew about them because of her dad, but he obviously didn’t know who she was. If they were gone, if Parker was gone, I doubt someone who’s been a part of his world like that would still be here. Plus…”
Dunn shuffled papers on the table and handed over a grainy photo and a report from the local medical examiner’s office.
“The photo is Parker. It was taken only a few months ago. It’s not good enough to use for facial rec, so English is still aging up old photos. And the report is classic for this guy. He’s not a quick and dirty killer. He relishes it. He enjoys making them pay for turning on him.”
Dex’s stomach flipped as he read the report. He’d read others, but the detailed way the report was written was almost like a love letter to the trauma Parker inflicted on the deceased.
“Who’s the ME?”
“What do you mean?”
“This report is a bit much. Almost like the medical examiner was impressed by what was done.”
Dunn reached for the report and scanned it quickly. “Dammit. We need to talk to him.”
“I’ll go with you. I need some fresh air.”
“We’re going to the morgue. I think that’s the polar opposite of fresh air.” Dunn raised a mocking brow at Dex.
Dex pretended not to notice the look. “Just want to get out of the office.”
Dunn let it go and took the file with them to see the ME. With any luck, they’d get some answers.
“What do you mean he no longer works here?” Dex asked Jerry, the man behind the desk.
“He only worked here for a few weeks. I think that was the only case he worked on alone, but I can’t remember. I can pull up his files, but we let him go right after this,” Jerry said. He tapped the keys on his computer and stared at the screen. He pushed his glasses up his nose, but they kept sliding down, making him look much older than he likely was.
Dex catalogued him, focusing on Jerry instead of the overwhelming smell of death in the basement. Unruly dark hair that looked like he ran his hands through it constantly. Wide-rimmed glasses, a brown cardigan, and stained white button-down. He could have been the crazy college professor everyone laughed at, or he could have been the crazy head of the ME’s office.
“Here he is. He worked here for two weeks and three days. Everyone spends the first two weeks shadowing another employee. After that, they’re on their own unless there’s a reason they can’t be. He had a good recommendation, but he broke all the rules. Really seemed like his documentation was faked.”
“Faked?” Dunn asked.
Jerry shrugged. “Who knows? When I fired him, I had a list of things he’d done wrong, right down to eating in the exam room. It was a lot of basic stuff he messed up.”
“Do you have any contact info for him?”
“Of course. But, uh, who did you say you work for?”
“We’re contractors through Homeland,” Dunn said. He handed over a business card. “You can call Agent Andrews if you need to verify anything.”
Jerry looked at the card and clicked another button on the computer. The printer behind him came to life and spit out a single sheet of paper. “This is what I have.”
Dunn took the sheet and looked it over before handing it to Dex. “Thanks for your help,” Dunn said.
The two of them left the morgue and the darkness. Dex gulped the fresh air, willing it to clear his head and take away the beginning of the migraine barreling toward him.
“You doing okay?” Dunn asked.
Dex nodded, trying to pretend he could see straight and nothing out of the ordinary was going on. He hadn’t been completely open with his team about his condition, preferring to keep it quiet as much as possible. Dunn knew he got headaches, but Dex never elaborated on how bad they were.
“Notice anything about that name?” Dunn asked.
Dex shook his head and looked at the paper again. He groaned. “Dammit.”
“Yep.”
“Do you recognize the address?”
“No. I’m not even sure it’s valid. What I do know is we need to get this information to English to find out if Damien Parker is related to Dennis Parker or if it’s just a coincidence that they share the same last name.”
“What are the chances of that?”
Dunn snorted. “Doubtful, but I’m not counting on that easy of a coincidence yet.”
