I don’t even realize I’m leaning forward in my seat, when on the screen a woman gets out of the back of the limo. She’s almost unrecognizable. Gone is the tight ponytail, the men’s clothes, the combat boots she prefers.
When did her hair get so long?
The dress she’s wearing is probably illegal in some states, and when she fully turns toward the camera, a tense smile on her face, I know I’m fucked.
Chapter Three
Bree
One thing I’ll say for Bobby Lee, she didn’t spare a penny on her guests’ comfort either.
This bed is the bomb, and despite the gaudy decor of the room, I slept like a baby. It makes it hard to get up when my alarm goes off at five forty-five.
My plane leaves at seven thirty, it was the earliest I could change my original afternoon flight to. Aside from the comfy bed, I’m ready to get out of here.
I don’t expect to find Sue up already, waiting in the elaborate kitchen with a fresh pot of coffee and the smell of something hot and sweet in the air. My stomach immediately grumbles, despite the massive burger I ate last night.
“Morning,” she chirps.
“Hey, I didn’t think you’d be up.”
“Can’t let you go without something in your stomach.”
She slides a mug across the island at me and points at the creamer and sugar on their little tray.
“You can fix it up yourself. I’ll grab the cinnamon buns from the oven.”
“You didn’t have to go to the trouble. I could’ve grabbed something at the airport.”
She pulls out a baking sheet with four massive pastries and immediately spreads cream cheese icing over the tops.
“Nonsense. I owe you at least one calorie-loaded meal.”
She winks as she slides one on a plate and hands it to me. I take a large bite and groan at the sweet, warm, buttery pastry melting on my tongue.
I did much the same last night when Sam joined me in the back of the limo, and I had my first bite of the burger he insisted on buying after I discovered I had no money on me. A nice guy, buying me food and literally giving me the shirt off his back.
“Oh, before I forget, I left a man’s dress shirt with the gown in the bathroom upstairs. The shirt is Sam’s.” Sue’s eyebrows shoot up. “No, nothing like that,” I hurry to explain. “I was so eager to get out of that corset when we got into the limo, I didn’t stop to think I had nothing on underneath. He was being a gentleman and lent me his shirt.”
“That would’ve been embarrassing,” she says, grinning.
“It was. Although I think more for Sam than for me.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it; he doesn’t look like the kind of guy who embarrasses easily. You may have made his day.”
I snort. I seriously doubt it. Without that corset it’s not like I have much on offer. Once I pulled a brush through my hair and washed that gunk off my face, I was back to my old plain self.
Shit. I should get going.
“You know, I should probably call a cab,” I point out, already pulling my phone from my pocket.
“I’ve got an airport limo picking you up in ten minutes. I would’ve taken you myself, but I have a conference call in…” She checks a sleek watch on her wrist. “Five minutes. I better hustle. Feel free to grab one for the road and don’t worry about the gate, it’s already open and I’ll close it again later. It was good to see you again, Bree.”
“You too,” I manage before she disappears from the kitchen.
I finish my breakfast and wrap a second cinnamon bun in a paper towel for the drive. Then I don my ball cap and sunglasses, sling my pack over my shoulder, and head out the door to find the limo already waiting.
“Morning.”
The driver tips his hat and reaches for the back door when I walk toward the vehicle. This is a regular airport limo; I recognize the subtle logo on the trunk. The same company works from a fair number of airports I’ve flown into.
“Thank you,” I tell him, noting he seems more interested in the house than in me.
It feels like I’m sitting on something when I climb in. I shift and twist around to find a book in my seat.
Suddenly I feel a pinch and a burning sensation at the back of my neck, and a heavy body shoves me down on the seat, trapping my arms underneath me.
“I’m sorry,” a voice whispers by my ear.
I draw on my training and jerk my head back, hoping to catch him on the chin but it feels like my head weighs a ton. I don’t make contact and when I try to struggle, my entire body feels like it’s filled with lead.
I’m trying to think but my brain is sluggish and I’m vaguely aware of the smell of cinnamon.
I fight hard to hang on but it’s no use.
Yanis
“Move it to the left.”
I adjust the tiny camera as Radar instructs.
The Sunday morning call from the owner of Flynn’s Fields was unexpected. I planned to finalize the security layout for the vineyard today or tomorrow, but when Joe Flynn found one of his fermentation vats vandalized this morning, those plans moved up.
I rustled up Radar, loaded whatever equipment we had at the office in the back of my vehicle, and drove out to Palisade.
They did a number on his fermentation tank, using some kind of saw to cut through the steel layers and two thousand or so gallons of wine flooded the facility. The night security guard they hired to patrol the property found the mess but the perps had already taken off. Likely he interrupted them since it looks like they had started on the second of the five tanks. Each of those babies cost upward of thirteen grand. That, plus the wine lost, is a lot of fucking money down the drain.
“You’ve got it.”
I give Radar the thumbs-up and climb down the ladder so I can move on to the next one.
We’re installing the handful of stationary mini-cameras we had in stock in and around the production side of Flynn’s Fields. We’ll replace them with proper ones this coming week as soon as we have a security framework set up and equipment ordered, but for now this’ll have to do.
With eyes now on the facility, as well as the access point, we head to the office space where we find Joe talking on the phone. He doesn’t keep us waiting long.
“Get it done?”
“For now, yes,” I answer him, taking a seat. “We only had enough for the winery, but it’s on a live feed. You already had the gate and access to the buildings secured, but it looks like they gained entrance from the vineyard and through the service entrance beside the big loading door. The alarm on that was basic and easily dismantled, so Radar upgraded it.”
“Jesus,” Joe mumbles, rubbing a hand over his face. “My vines…if there is anything more valuable than the tanks or the wine itself, it’s the grapes.”
“Already included in the plan I was working on, but the key element here is good security personnel. You can have top-of-the-line equipment all over this place but unless you have eyes on it at all times, it’s useless.”
“I thought I had everything covered.”
I feel for the guy. He finally had the guts and the means to follow a lifelong dream—which he told me Flynn’s Fields was—only to be targeted when he’s barely out of the starting gate.