Barracuda Security Complete Trilogy Read online

  It wasn’t right.

  I slid the picture into the glove box and started the car, turning it around in the middle of traffic to head downtown. I’d never seen myself going the way of private security, but I had to admit that I liked the freedom offered by working outside of the box. There were times when a cop’s hands are tied by the very law that he is attempting to enforce. This isn’t always an issue with private security. Just last month I’d been able to gather information on a guy robbing his insurance company blind that I could never have gotten if I’d been working within the parameters of the law. That guy was now sitting behind bars, waiting for a trial that would likely see him going to federal prison for at least a nickel, if not longer. It feels good to be able to do that, to put the bad guys away. It was the whole reason I’d become a cop.

  “How’s it going, Cady?” I asked, stepping into the office, and smiling at the short, dark haired girl who was the receptionist. She was a funny girl, not really my idea of the perfect first impression for a business. She dressed kind of like a sixties housewife, white pearls and long skirts, her long, dark hair often pulled back into a ponytail with a bouffant sort of upsweep in the front. Her makeup was heavy and colorful. Today, her eyeshadow was a bright, almost neon, green that made her dark eyes seem even darker.

  “Not bad. Paxton’s done with her case and struggling with the report back in the break room, and Kai’s hiding out in his office.”

  “Sounds about normal.”

  “Exactly.”

  She held out a stack of pink slips to me, messages that she insisted on taking down on paper rather than send to my voicemail, another aspect to her old-fashioned style. I took them, glancing through the calls. Most were just bill collectors, assholes who couldn’t get me to answer the phone at home, so they called my employer. I balled them up and tossed them into the trash without bothering to read them all.

  “I guess I’ll go see what the boss needs.”

  Kai Gabriel was something of an enigma to me. I’d done some research on him when I first heard his business was looking for operatives. He was a California beach bum, grew up in Los Angeles, spending most of his time in the Malibu area. His mother was a minor actress who’d garnered some amount of fame back in the late eighties, early nineties. From what I gathered, she lived on the coattails of that fame for as long as she could milk it, and Kai had, too.

  He got into some trouble as a teen and then went into the Army where he made a name for himself, earning almost every medal a man could earn fighting terrorists. He’d had quite a career ahead of him until the accident that took his leg. He doesn’t talk about it and I’d never offered up the fact that I’d read about it. Some things were just better left undiscussed.

  “Hey, boss,” I said, tapping on the door frame as I stepped into his office. “You asked for me?”

  “Maclean.” He sat back from his computer and eyed me for a second, like a general inspecting his troops. “Come in and close the door.”

  I did as requested, dropping into a straight backed chair that was about as uncomfortable as any chair could be. I slid down, crossing one ankle over a knee, and studied him across his big desk. Most of the furniture in this office was pretty cheap, picked up at garage sales and thrift shops. But that desk…it had to have cost a fortune! It was walnut—ironically enough— a dark, thick and heavy desk that had taken four men to move in here even in pieces. There were carvings around the edges of the desktop, and matching carvings on each corner. It sat heavily on the floor as if it had once had feet, but someone had removed them; it had deep drawers where Kai hid several 9mms and a sawed-off shotgun that was as illegal as it was lethal. I wasn’t supposed to know about those, but I was a man who is curious at heart. I have this bad habit of prowling around in places I’m not supposed to be.

  “We have a new client,” Kai said, his hands disappearing below the top of the desk. I could tell by the look on his face that he was rubbing his thigh. He sometimes got cramps, or itches, or something in his injured leg and he’d rub it, making this face almost like someone would make when rubbing at an ear with the soft tip of a cotton swab. “He’d like us to keep an eye on his sister, but he wants it done on the down low.”

  “I’m not sure that’s possible in this town.”

  “I know. But I told him we’d try.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Her name is Rylee Gruffydd. She’s a lawyer over at Young and Ferguson.”

  I nodded. I knew the name.

  “Our client has reason to believe she might be in danger from a guy named Colin Johnson. The client wasn’t specific about what the danger might be, but he wants us to keep an eye on this lady, twenty-four/seven. So…you take the first shift, hang out around her office, and try to get a feel for her schedule. I’ll send Paxton over to her home and see if we can set up some sort of camera operation there.”

  “And if I see something suspicious?”

  “Approach only if you feel the target is in imminent danger. Otherwise, just observe for right now. The office building should have video surveillance, so you shouldn’t need to get too close.” He turned his computer monitor around and pointed out a corner of Walnut Estates on a Google Maps display. “There’s a Starbucks here, on the corner across from the office building, so that should provide a decent bit of cover.”

  I grunted. “I should fit in there just perfectly, an ex-cop hanging out in a millennial playground.”

  Kai chuckled lightly. “Yeah, well, better you than me.”

  “Tell Paxton to send me the feed from her place as soon as she’s got it going.”

  “No problem.”

  I was out the door as quickly as I’d arrived, snatching my laptop from my cheap, metal desk before climbing back into my Dodge Charger. It was good to have something to occupy my time. Good to have something to think about other than Meredith.

  I settled in Starbucks while some sort of concoction I’d ordered grew cold on the table beside me. I’d ordered it, pretending I knew what the hell I was buying. I opened the laptop and began working a line of code Kai had taught us all in the first few days of Barracuda’s existence. Hacking into a security camera feed wasn’t technically illegal, but it wasn’t quite legal, either. That gray line was one I was learning to walk easily, almost happily, a gray line that allowed me more freedom than I’d ever had as a cop. Like Kai told me when I expressed concern: Whatever it takes to protect the client.

  The hack was surprisingly easy. I was in, and in half the time it normally took me, which was a surprise since this was a law firm we were talking about, one that took on clients like wealthy tourists who drank too much after a party and slammed their cars into the side of Mom and Pop style tourist shops, or those that constantly called the police department to report death threats against one or another of their partners. I scrolled through the cameras prioritizing the ones at all the entrances and exits, and the corridor that led to the target’s office.

  As easy as it was to get into their security cameras, it had been equally easy for me to walk past the security guard in the lobby and head upstairs to search each floor until I found the one that sported the target’s name on a little gold plate on her office door. The door was locked when I tried the knob. That was good. She was probably the only one on the entire floor who bothered to lock her door, proving she was a little safety conscious. That would make my job easier.

  I sat back and studied the feeds, noting the coming and goings of everyone on her floor. There were quite a lot. And then I saw a woman approach her door. I sat up a little and made the camera's feed bigger. I watched as the woman took a key from her purse and unlocked the door. There was no camera in the room—we’d have to fix that tonight—but the woman glanced back over her shoulder before going inside. I won’t say it was a face that took my breath away, but it was the face of a very attractive woman. She had dark hair—I couldn’t tell the exact color because the cameras filmed in black and white—that was long and straight, caught in a clip at the back of her head. She had a slightly upturned nose, high cheekbones, and a wide forehead that emphasized her heart-shaped face, and full lips. I like a woman with full lips.

  I wondered what the trouble was that her brother thought was coming her way. A spurned lover would be my guess, especially now that I’d gotten a look at her face. I watched the computer screen for a while, sipping at the cooling concoction I’d ordered and not hating it. I was beginning to grow a little blurry eyed when my phone rang.

  “All set,” Paxton told me.

  I logged into the server coming from the office and found the feeds coming from the cameras Paxton had set up at the target’s house. In a second, I was staring at a nice little bungalow not far from here, in a neighborhood just a few blocks up from the one where I used to live. A little modest for a lawyer, but guessing from the low floor on which her office was located, she was likely just a junior associate.

  Paxton had managed to get cameras outside the building that showed both the front and back doors, but also along the sides of the house, part of the back yard, and enough of the front yard to offer a view of the street. But what surprised me was the feeds coming from inside. Somehow Paxton had managed to gain entry into the house.

  “Smell you, princess,” I muttered.

  I now had direct view of both the most important locations in this woman’s life. All I had to do now was hope that she didn’t have much of a social life

  Chapter 3

  Rylee

  I took off my reading glasses and tossed them across the desk, grunting as they fell to the floor. I’d broken more glasses that way, but I didn’t have the energy to care at the moment. A case was on and if I didn’t figure it out, it would be the death of my career if my boss had anything to do
with it.

  I’d thought criminal law would be fun. I had pictured myself as an investigator, kind of like Nancy Drew or Perry Mason. Instead, I spend ninety percent of my time behind a desk, reading through witness statements, pulling case law, and dickering with prosecutors over plea deals. It was not exciting work. But now I had this case: A guy broke into his neighbor’s house and took five thousand dollars’ worth of electronic equipment. He was caught on video, a very clear video that could not be denied. The thing was, however, he was the son of a state senator and my boss wanted me to find a way to keep the kid out of jail. How the hell was I supposed to do that when the prosecutor had him on video? But that was what the boss wanted and that was what I supposed to do.

  “Aunt Rylee!”

  I looked up, and the weight of the case slid easily off my back as my five- year-old-niece, Molly, ran into the room, with her mother not far behind. I stood and held out my arms and wrapped her up in a bear hug.

  “Hello, snuggle bear!” I kissed her neck loudly, making her giggle and squirm in my arms. The moment I set her down, she pulled open the lower right drawer on the desk and grabbed a piece of hard candy she knew I kept there. “Ask Mom,” I reminded her.

  “Mommy, can I?”

  “One,” Briar said, smiling.

  Molly immediately unwrapped the candy and popped it into her mouth, then pulling it up against the desk, climbed into my chair and turned her attention to my computer as if she knew exactly what she was doing. A part of me believed she did. The kid was smart as a whip!

  “How are you?” I asked, moving around the desk to offer Briar a brief hug.

  “I’ve been better.” She dragged her fingers through her short bob, sighing as she looked over at Molly. “We were just upstairs talking to John.”

  “What did he say?”

  She shook her head, indicating she didn’t want to talk in front of the child. I took her elbow and led her out into the hallway. “Tell me.”

  She sighed, her eyes filling with tears. “I have to let him see her. He said that without proof that he could be a danger to her, I can’t stop the visitations.”

  I shook my head, anger rising like bile in my throat. “What if I went up there and talked to him? He must have seen the pictures?”

  “It won’t do any good. He hit me, not her.”

  “Hell!” I pulled her into my arms, wishing I could do more than offer a little inadequate comfort. My brother…how could he marry such a sweet soul and then treat her this way? I’d always known Roman could be an ass, but I’d never seen him express himself with such ugly violence until he came back from the Army. Had that head injury broken something inside of him? Or had the potential for violence always been there?

  “We’ll figure this out. We’ll stop this from happening.”

  “How?” Briar shook her head, stepping back from me. “I just…I don’t want to pull you into this anymore than I already have. I don’t want him to turn on you, too.”

  “You know Roman and I haven’t spoken in the better part of two years. Not since that night at Rudy’s.”

  She nodded, a dark shadow crossing her pretty face. Rudy’s was a local bar where we used to hang out, and have a girl’s night out once a week. One night, two years ago, Roman decided Briar had had too much free time away from him and Molly. He showed up and dragged her out of the bar in front of everyone, and then slammed a fist into the side of her head the moment he thought they were alone in the parking lot. They weren’t. I’d followed. Up to that point, I’d been suspicious that the occasional spattering of bruises I’d seen on Briar’s pale skin was caused by my brother, but didn’t have proof until that moment. I’d begged her to leave him then, begged her to file a police report against him. She’d refused and now we were all paying the price for it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for.” I hugged her again. “You finally left him. That’s all that’s important now.”

  Molly came prancing out of the office. “I’m hungry, Mommy. Can we go to McDonald’s?”

  Briar turned her back to the child for a second, wiping hurriedly at her cheeks. “Yeah, baby,” she said as she turned back around, forcing a smile. “Anything you want.”

  “You come, too, Aunt Rylee.”

  I nodded. “I’d like that.”

  I swung Molly up into my arms and turned back to the office to grab my purse. I completely forgot the glasses on the floor until I heard the low crunch of one of the arms snapping off when I stepped on them. I cursed, causing Molly to laugh.

  “You’re not supposed to say that, Aunt Rylee.”

  “Sorry, kid.”

  I reached down, snapped them up, and tossed them onto the desk as we headed out. McDonald’s was across town, a lovely drive on a cool night. I followed Briar and Molly in their BMW, a remnant of the good days of Briar’s marriage to Roman. My dear sweet brother had no compunction living off the money Mom gave him like she would toss bread crumbs to a duck. He hadn’t bothered to even attempt getting a job since he came back from the Army—a career he’d chosen simply because of the power a uniform had over the opening and closing of a woman’s legs, as he liked to tell it—or to go back to school. He claimed he couldn’t work because of the headaches his injury still caused him. I was pretty sure it had more to do with the fact that he’d always been a lazy bum.

  As I got out of the car at McDonald’s, I saw a black Dodge Charger pull into the lot across the street. There was something about it that seemed familiar. I mean, really, Dodge Chargers are popular cars, especially with single guys, but there was something about this one… I was sure I’d seen it before.

  “Rylee?”

  I watched as a tall man got out of the car, unfolding himself in that way that really tall men have. He had short blond hair, with the kind of haircut a cop might have, but he couldn’t be a cop because he sported a neat scruff on his jaw, a heavy five o’clock shadow that was darker than the hair on his head. He was wearing a dark shirt that was tucked nicely into his jeans, and boots that suggested someone who worked around heavy objects. He looked over at McDonald’s as he locked his car, and met my eyes almost as if he had been looking for me.

  “Rylee? You okay? Do you know that man?”

  I leaned back into Briar as she moved up behind me, and I gestured discreetly toward the other parking lot. Briar slid her arm around my waist and turned slightly to look. After a second, she nodded. “He’s that cop whose wife was killed in the drunk driving accident about four or five years ago.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I remember seeing his face in the paper all the time during the trial. They moved it up to Fayetteville, remember?”

  “I remember. The woman only got five years.”

  “I heard she’s already out on probation.”

  “That’s the way it goes sometimes. It’s not always fair.”

  “I don’t suppose so.”

  The man walked to the curb, his body moving with that sort of clumsy grace that tall men seem to have. There was something about him. He still looked familiar, but maybe I was just remembering him from the articles, like Briar said. Or maybe…I don’t know. It felt more recent than that.

  “Let’s go in,” Molly cried from behind us. “I want a Happy Meal!”

  I laughed. “I haven’t heard that in a while. Do they still call them that?”

  Briar smiled, sliding her hand into mine. “Come on, Rylee. I think we all need a Happy Meal.”

  He came into the restaurant behind us. I watched him, while he studied the menu like he’d never seen one before. We placed our order and wandered out into the play area so that Molly could run off some of that unending supply of energy small children seem to have. I kept glancing through the windows, and saw the stranger fold his long legs into a booth and pull out a laptop from his backpack.