Peacocks (Licking Thicket #5)

Sneak Peek of Hijacked

Riggs

If I’d known I was going to walk into a reaming, I would have downed a few shots of whiskey first.

“Who in the fucking fuck takes a private client call in front of their Grindr hookup?” Champ raged.

I knew he didn’t really want me to answer, but I did anyway. I was no shrinking violet. “He was in the bathroom, ah, taking care of some… things. I didn’t think he was listening.”

My boss’s broad shoulders made his wingspan look even bigger than it was as he waved his long arms around our office reception area. “ You didn’t think . That’s what I hear when you flap your fucking jaws. You didn’t think. No shit, Sherlock. What would have happened back in Ghazni if you’d simply ‘assumed’ Azim was preoccupied with his douche routine while we were trying to break in and disarm the bomb?”

I tapped my lips with a finger. “I don’t think Azim was gay. And if he was… the dude was putting off major toppy vibes. At least before the, ah… bomb thing happened.”

“Riggs, damn it, shut the fuck up.” The vein on Champ’s temple that sometimes bulged enough to worry me was making an appearance, so I shut the fuck up.

I respected Percival Champion more than anyone else in my life. (Which was why I’d never call him by his first name.) He’d been my commanding officer through some seriously sketchy moments, and he’d always gotten us out of the shit. Sometimes it seemed like magic. Where Champ led, I would always, always follow. And I hated that I’d let him down. So if he wanted to ream me over one relatively insignificant mistake—which, yeah, okay, had led to the loss of a pretty significant client—then I was gonna take it and be quiet.

Mostly quiet.

“If you’d underestimated Azim, we’d be dead,” Champ said, continuing his tirade. “But yet you had a whole convo with the guy from HOG Corporate about their massive upcoming personnel reallocation?—”

“Layoffs,” I corrected under my breath. I didn’t think the dozens of graphic designers and programmers that the HOG CEO had wanted me to escort out of the building the morning after that fateful call felt “reallocated.” They felt unemployed.

“—where your Grindr hookup could hear every damn word and then relay those words back to the lead developer, who, upon hearing that he was one of the people about to be reallocated?—”

“Fired,” I interjected, ignoring Champ’s glare.

Champ ground his teeth together so hard they squeaked, which could not have been good for his oral health. “—then took off with a mission-critical software access code, a code he could use to disrupt gameplay for Horn of Glory , the world’s largest and most popular video game, and potentially put HOG out of business. And now it seems like the man has been trying to sell that code to the highest bidder, and no one can get in touch with him because he’s left town. And HOG understandably fired our asses and only chose not to prosecute us for violating the nondisclosure agreements we’d signed because they didn’t want the publicity. Sound about right?”

“Buck Nutter and his Magic Seed,” I said helpfully.

Champ blinked at me. “I… what? What ?”

“The lead developer is Buck Nutter. And the code he took is known as his Magic Seed. Apparently they call it that because?—”

Before I had a chance to explain further, a woman came blasting through the front doors. She had on slim-fit hot pink pants, a flowy white blouse that didn’t do much to hide a zebra-print push-up bra, and at least four-inch stiletto heels that click-click-clicked across the marble floor. I expected her to bite the dust at any moment.

“I need to speak with Percival Champion,” she wailed. It was only then I noticed the smeared makeup, tear tracks, and bird’s-nest hairdo.

Champ’s jaw tightened. “There’s no one here by that name.”

When I say Champ hated his name, I mean he really hated it.

The young woman wailed even louder. “I’ll talk to anyone at Champion Security, it doesn’t matter who. I need any strong man! Won’t somebody please help me?”

Champ and I looked at each other before looking back at the hot mess in front of us. I took a chance. “Are you here for the receptionist position? Because I’m afraid it’s been filled.”

It hadn’t been filled. We’d had a string of horrible people using the position as a high-speed revolving door. But I wasn’t taking any chances with this one. I could tell she was nothing but a soap opera in high heels.

“No, I’ve lost my brother. Not lost so much as… oh my heart!” she said, pressing her cleavage. “I can’t stand it. The forces of evil have taken my brother. They have him in their clutches.” She collapsed into sobs.

The theatrics echoed off the walls of the nearly empty reception area.

Champ and I had a silent conversation where he communicated with a series of increasingly violent head nods that he expected me to take care of this situation, and I blinked back at him innocently like I had no idea what he was talking about.

I’d take a bullet for the man, but weeping women gave me hives.

Finally, Champ stepped forward. “Who’s your brother, Miss…?”

“Nutter. Kandi Nutter. Buck’s my big brother. And they took him !” She wailed again, this time throwing herself against Champ’s chest as she did so.

Champ turned to glare at me, like just by saying Buck Nutter’s name, I’d conjured his sister and that somehow this whole situation, including the mascara stains on his shirt, was my fault, which it wasn’t.

“What makes you think someone took him, ma’am?” Champ asked, guiding her to the lone chair in the lobby and handing her a tissue from the box on the desk.

“Well, he’s gone , isn’t he? Just up and left town without telling me or anyone in the family.” She sniffled. “And he wouldn’t do that. Not Buck. He’s the kind who doesn’t go so far as the front porch without tellin’ everyone he knows.” She blew her nose, not very delicately. “Never been one for keeping secrets, our Buck.”

I gave Champ a look that said, Are you gonna explain to her that her totes-not-secretive brother’s probably on the run in a secret location with his secret stolen intellectual property, or am I?

Champ rolled his eyes.

“And what possible motive could someone have for kidnapping him?” he asked with a perfect poker face. “Who’d want to do such a thing?”

The waterworks stopped on a dime, and her expression turned hard. “If I knew their names, I’d have already taken care of the situation. I’m a Nutter. I have resources . All I know is, Buck was trying to sell… er, something ,” she said cagily. “Something on the internet. He changed his mind in the end, but it was too late.”

“Something?” I repeated. “Like… collectible figurines?”

“Well, no. They wanted to get their greedy hands on his Horn, obviously.” She blinked up at us. “Like from the game Horn of Glory ?”

I’d been afraid of that. Except it probably wasn’t his Horn they wanted; it was his Magic Seed.

I didn’t say that out loud, though, because Champ had already started making wheezy, pained sorts of noises at the mention of Horns , and it was all I could do to fake a cough to cover my laugh.

I’d had no idea that the man was so incredibly pun-averse until he’d set up our offices in Licking Thicket, Tennessee, and the jokes had started writing themselves. For the record, I absolutely never made those puns on purpose just to watch his eyebrow twitch because that would have been wrong . Ahem.

He shot me another angry look, like he’d heard my laughter… or like he thought it was my fault that the disgruntled programmer had had advance knowledge of his impending layoff and had taken off with a back door to the HOG system, which he was apparently trying to sell to a dangerous criminal and which might or might not have gotten him kidnapped for reasons I couldn’t fathom.

And… okay, yeah, come to think of it, that one was probably on me.

“We know what Horn of Glory is,” Champ admitted reluctantly. “The video game HOG Corporate produces?—”

“ Horn of Glory ain’t just a video game ,” Kandi said passionately. “It’s a whole lifestyle. It’s literally the most popular video game system on earth ever , even though it’s only been out for a few months. I think half the people in the world must have a Horn! The first-generation Horn devices sold out in a day and a half. And my brother was the one who came up with the whole idea for the game while he was driving a tractor on our great-uncle Amos’s farm. He made the original Horn prototype. He did all the coding for the game too, even though it took him years. It was his life’s work. And now he’s gone . And I’m, like, ninety-nine percent sure he didn’t go voluntarily.” She sniffled again. “Or, like, maybe eighty-two percent. Something big like that.”

“Something big like that.” Champ nodded sagely. “Uh-huh. And have you taken your concerns to HOG Corporate?”

“No way.” Kandi’s eyes flashed. “I wouldn’t warn Jacob Horn if a tornado was heading for the Thicket. Not after the way he treated Buck. Besides, y’all are HOG’s security folks, and there wouldn’t be any HOG without Buck Nutter, so I figure all y’all should, you know, secure him.”

“Secure him,” I repeated, scratching my head. “From an unknown location. Where he may or may not have gone voluntarily.”

Let’s face it; it was almost definitely voluntarily.

Champ shot me a look. “What Mr. Riggs is trying to say is that there isn’t a lot of information to go on, Ms. Nutter. Was Buck’s passport taken? Were any of his clothes or suitcases gone? Can anyone access his accounts to see if he’d made any large purchases or withdrawals?”

“Weeeellll…” Kandi licked her lips, then admitted, “His girlfriend said Buck’s passport’s gone. And technically he’d bought tickets for them to go to Mexico the day after he disappeared. And if you want to get specific about things, he maybe had both their suitcases packed and in the trunk of his car when he went out to the Dairy Queen to get Kellie some soft-serve, but his case is gone now…”

Ah, the old going-out-for-soft-serve-and-never-coming-back schtick. I felt almost bad for Kandi. And Kellie.

“But you don’t understand,” Kandi implored, seeing the truth on both Champ’s face and my own. “The man who was greedy for Buck’s Horn… Buck said he was a big-time criminal from another country. And Buck was scared.”

I would be, too, if I were selling stolen information to a criminal, but I didn’t say that.

“In that case, is it possible that your brother was planning to complete the sale after all, maybe because he was scared?” Champ asked gently. “That he flew out to Mexico alone but didn’t take Kellie because it was too dangerous?”

Kandi blinked.

“It’s hard to think someone you love might not have been totally honest,” Champ went on. “But you need to understand, Ms. Nutter, that this isn’t a matter for Champion Security. We no longer work for HOG, so we don’t have client security needs to maintain, and what you’re talking about is a serious matter. You should contact the authorities. You can start with the police right here in Licking Thicket, or I have a, uh… a contact or two at the DEA,” he admitted.

Kandi only just then seemed to notice Champ was a fine specimen of man, the kind the US military put on recruitment posters and public relations ads. He was a real-live superhero with a square jaw, a dimpled chin, and biceps that strained the sleeves of his T-shirt. What she didn’t see was the fact he was gay.

“Oh. Oh my. Why, aren’t you sweet . And it’s Kandi, please. I… I would like to speak to you in private if you don’t mind, sugar. See if we can’t come to an… understanding . One where you could start working for me, and I could… compensate you.” She blinked her black eyelashes rapidly, pretty clearly spelling out S-E-X in Morse code.

I wasn’t sure why, but Champ always seemed shocked when women hit on him. How he wasn’t used to it by now was beyond me. He took a step back and crossed his arms in front of his chest, not realizing he could also get top billing as a forearm porn model.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible. It would be unprofessional of us to step on the toes of our former client. I’d advise you to go to the authorities for help or, barring that, to contact HOG Corporate and see which security firm they’ve selected to replace us.”

She reached out a lacquered fingernail and ran it along one of his forearms. I enjoyed the resulting look of maidenly shock on his face, but I bit back the laugh because I valued my life. “But… I have needs ,” she said with a pout. “ Client security needs.”

Champ met my eyes over the woman’s head and communicated everything with one simple glance. Get rid of her .

Because Champ seemed to be nearing the end of his patience—which was concerning since I figured I still had a good bit of reaming left to endure—I didn’t pretend to misunderstand him this time.

I cleared my throat. “Ma’am… ah… Kandi, Champ’s husband is on his way here with a load of new weapons he picked up from the gun show.”

Damn it, the woman looked even more impressed. I’d forgotten we were in rural Tennessee where guns weren’t very intimidating.

“Also, he’s bringing his…” I glanced at Champ with an apologetic wince. “His drag queen friends along. It’s… ah, Drag Queen Firearm Friday. But I’m sure you already know that.”

Champ literally face-palmed.

Fine, I wasn’t known for my ability to think up lies on the spot. Sue me.

But it apparently did the job because the woman threw up her hands. “Christ on a Christmas cracker! Is everyone in the Thicket gay now?” Then she pivoted on one heel and stormed out.

As soon as the half-red, half-gray Honda Civic peeled out of the lot, I turned back to Champ with a puffed-up sense of pride at my success. “Am I forgiven?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll ask my husband . The gun-toting drag queen.”

I pointed at him. “May you be so lucky. If you weren’t a workaholic, you could totally land a nice buxom queen instead of that big, callused hand you’re married to now.”

Maybe it was a good thing he ignored my comment about his masturbatory habits.

“As for whether or not you’re forgiven for losing our largest client, the answer is no. In fact, as punishment, you’re going to represent Champion Security at the Licking Nuthatch Gala.”

I tilted my head and peered at him. “I’m sorry. You want me to lick your what?” Licking Thicket jokes never got old.

Champ ignored me, except for that telltale twitchy eyebrow, and continued.

“It’s a fundraiser for a cardiac wing at our regional hospital. It’s being put on by the Rogers family. They’re an old-money family from Nashville. One of the men in the family moved to Nuthatch and took over a cardiology practice, and the family is celebrating his move to the area with a charity fundraiser. They want to endow the new wing in his honor.”

“Jesus,” I muttered. Must be nice to have that kind of money. The kind that said, “Oh? You’re moving to nowhere, Tennessee? Here’s a hospital wing to give you something to do with yourself.” When I’d moved to the Thicket a few months ago, my family had given me every single novelty mug they could find with the words “licking” or “thick” on it. I now owned enough mugs to open a very inappropriate cafe. “Must be nice.”

“You’re going to find out tonight at the gala. And no hooking up while you’re there. I know it’ll be rough for you, but try to stay off Grindr for at least a few hours.”

Those were fighting words. “Do you have any idea how rare it is for me to hook up with someone these days? All I do is work. Last weekend was the first weekend I’ve had off in months, so I swiped right just one time ?—”

He held up a hand to shut me up. “Save it, Riggsy. I don’t want to hear about your lonely dick. I’m still pissed. I’ll get over it eventually…” He smiled in a way that was not at all comforting. “But today is not that day, my friend.”

I sighed. “I’m just trying to reassure you, there’s no way my dick’s getting any less lonely while I’m at the party. You know how I feel about high-maintenance guys.”

Or really, any-maintenance guys. But I was especially not into the rich, privileged, gala-throwing type.

“Yes, that’s very reassuring. And speaking of high-maintenance guys, I neglected to mention you’re also going to babysit the cardiologist as your next assignment.”

“No! What? No ! I hate personal protection.”

“I know,” Champ said gleefully. “The doctor’s your new principal, and he’s headed out on some kind of charity stint in South America. It’s all in the file I just sent to your email. Make sure he doesn’t get hurt.”

Okay, this was going down a road I wasn’t interested in traveling.

He continued. “And, given that you’ll be busy in a jungle outside of Caracas working off the consequences of your poor Grindr hookup choices, you’re officially out of the auricle implant program. Until further notice, you’re our resident rich-guy babysitter. Congratulations.”

“What?” I breathed, feeling a slight head rush as my brain dried to wrap itself around his words. There was no way he meant what he was saying. I’d busted my ass researching implant comms tech in order to qualify for that elite training program in Arizona. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re taking me off AIP to send me to the fucking jungle to babysit a rich do-gooder? All because I made one little mistake?”

“You lost us the Horn of Glory!”

“It sounds so dirty when you say it like that,” I lamented.

“They’re the biggest client we’ve ever had, Riggs. And you heard Kandi! Horn of Glory is the hottest handheld video game in the world right now. They’re expanding globally at light speed. Do you have any idea what that contract would have done for Champion Security? Do you? We were this close to expanding from personnel background checks, on-site guarding, and security monitoring to doing the big shit—location assessment, security systems consulting, and executive personal security. And then you decided to fuck it all up with a quick chat in front of some horny stranger. If you can’t be professional, I can’t justify the expense.”

Okay, maybe I couldn’t just take this reaming quietly.

“I took a call from Jacob Horn, the CEO!” I retorted angrily. “That’s all! I answered the phone when the important client called. Was I supposed to not answer while I took the time to find pants and exit the room? And I can’t help it if the man screams every word he says on the phone loud enough for the Grindr dude in the bathroom to overhear.”

Champ crossed his arms in front of his broad chest. I tried not to look at them because they truly were porn-worthy.

He sighed in exasperation. “Riggs, you need to learn that not everyone is your friend. Not everyone is trustworthy. Learn to keep your fucking mouth shut in general, and especially about client information. Have a hookup, fine. But don’t fucking tell him your life story while you’re at it. You share too much. Just fuck the guy and be done with it. No emotions necessary unless you’re looking for a spouse. You looking for a spouse, Riggs? Because I gotta tell you, that wouldn’t exactly gel well with your job. I’m not sure your Grindr husband would want you flying off to parts unknown the next time you’re lucky enough to get nominated for something like AIP.”

This wasn’t the first time he’d cautioned me against my big mouth. I had a tendency to overshare, and it had gotten me into plenty of trouble in the past, like the time I’d told a guy I was dating where I worked and he’d marched into Champion Security to declare his undying love for me in the middle of the lobby right in front of a client—like there would ever be a time when I would be cool with PDA in my workplace.

But that was in the past, and it had no bearing on this current mess. I hadn’t spilled any fucking beans, and my boss needed to know that.

“No, I am not looking for a spouse.” I valued my freedom way too much. “And just so we’re clear, Jacob Horn was the one who said he was laying off thirty percent of the local development team. I didn’t say a word. My only crime was taking a call at the wrong time.”

Champ lifted that fucking eyebrow again. The Eyebrow of Accusation. “Maybe you shouldn’t have been fucking a HOG employee in the first place. Maybe then Mr.… what was his name again? The missing developer?”

“Buck Nutter. And I don’t know why you keep making me say his name when it gives you that constipated look every time you hear it. Just so we’re clear, Buck wasn’t my hookup. The Grindr guy’s name was Dim. Ding. Dino. I can’t remember. And working a food truck in the HOG parking lot doesn’t make him an employee. Besides, we didn’t fuck. I kicked him out as soon as he came out of the bathroom. But by then it was too late.”

He ignored me. “Maybe then Buck Nutter wouldn’t have taken off with this mystical porthole code thing and put the cybersecurity of millions of gamers at risk.”

“Seed,” I corrected. “Buck Nutter’s Magic Seed. It’s an asset inside the game. When you have the magic seed, you get backdoor access?—”

“Every word you say just makes this worse,” Champ said before turning away and heading to his office. “I’m living in a nightmare,” he muttered under his breath.

“You’re the one from a town called Licking Thicket,” I called after him. “I only work here.”

He waved his hand as if to dismiss me. “For now,” he replied archly before disappearing down the hall. “Focus on the job, Riggsy. Don’t let me down.”

I wanted to scream. He knew how much I sacrificed for this job. How devoted to it I was. How much sleep and sweat and blood I’d happily given up for it.

A slow clap came from the chair behind the receptionist’s desk. I turned to see our resident hacker, Jasper Huxley, sitting there.

“Where did you come from?” I asked.

“Been sitting here the whole time. I even thought about DoorDashing some popcorn at one point. The tension was A plus. You two should fuck.”

I gagged. “No, thanks. It would be like fucking one of my brothers.”

Hux stared after our boss and former commanding officer. “Agreed. He’s hot as hell, though. Shame.”

I pictured Champ’s perfect looks. I had to admit the blond-hair, blue-eyes combo really did it for me. What a waste. “Anyway, the man doesn’t date or even hook up. I don’t think he’s had sex since 1942.”

“He’s only thirty-seven years old. I think he hooks up, he probably just keeps it on the down low.”

I shook my head, repeating Champ’s own words from earlier. “Don’t care. Right now, all I care about is getting reinstated on the AIP. Got any ideas? Surely he’s not going to punish me as severely as he made it sound.”

Hux went back to clicking away on his laptop. “You fucked up pretty good. He’s mad.”

Thanks for stating the obvious.

“Any ideas for me to unfuck it?” I asked again.

Hux looked up and me and pursed his lips as if considering it.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “Go to that gala. Be professional . And then go to the jungle and bodyguard the shit out of that doctor dude.”

I pressed my fingers into my forehead and took a deep, cleansing breath. Hux was right.

I needed to bodyguard the shit out of that doctor dude. And I was sure as hell not going to get close to the guy.