Shades of Steel (Shades of Steel Security #1)

Prologue

“We’ve just closed for the evening,” Bryar LeGuard said as she wiped down the polished bar. When she saw Reno Santos approaching, a sense of dread washed over her. His unsettling grin and menacing demeanor made her uncomfortable, yet she reminded herself to stay polite. She didn’t want to pick a fight, especially alone with the shady man. “As I mentioned, we’re closed.”

He propped himself on his cane with the snake-head handle. “I was searching for you, and it seems I’ve found you.” His sleazy grin spread across his scarred face.

She tossed the rag onto the counter and honed her gaze in on the man—a term she used loosely. “I don’t believe there’s anything we have to say to each other.” Hoping he’d get the drift and leave had been too much of an expectation.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweet thing.” The way he used the endearment made her stomach turn. “We have a lot to talk about regarding your brother.” He slid onto a barstool, leaned his cane on his thigh, and reached into the bowl of peanuts on the bar. He stuffed them into his mouth and chomped loudly.

Her chest tightened. “I have nothing to say to you, let alone regarding Lane. You came here uninvited, so now do us a favor and see yourself out.” She had made it as far as the swinging doors that led to the kitchen when she heard…

“I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say. Consider this a friendly visit. Next time won’t be as friendly I can promise you that.”

Taking a backward step, she swiveled on the heel of her boot. “My brother is serving time because of you. Isn’t that enough?” The hair on her neck lifted as she felt her patience slip.

“Unfortunately, your brother is serving time because he was a very, very stupid individual.” Reno drummed his four fingers on the edge of the bar. Bryar heard he’d lost one while he’d been in prison. He belonged there again, but he’d become slicker, more deviant, using others to do his dirty work so his hands stayed clean—well, almost clean.

“I’ll give you that much. Stupid for trusting you and your lies and false promises.” She wouldn’t slink away from the man even if she knew how dangerous he could be, especially to anyone who stood up to him. He’d been a menace in Shades Cove for as long as she’d been alive. Most people learned to ignore him. Some crossed to the other side of the street when they saw him approaching. A few got drawn into his web—like her brother.

His sinister laughter echoed off the walls. “Princess, your brother made his own choices. And now he owes me. He can’t think I’d let his...transgression slide just because he’s behind bars.”

“You’re talking gibberish, Reno. I don’t have the time or the patience.”

She had a special place in her heart for Lane, even if he’d made a mistake—multiple mistakes.

The moment Bryar’s parents brought home her chubby-cheeked brother from the hospital, she’d dedicated herself to protecting and caring for him. With a five-year age gap between them, she often treated him more like her child than a brother, especially after their mother left Shades Cove to pursue an adventure with a twenty-four-year-old Australian named Denny. In a brief letter, Bobbi Middleton-LeGuard explained that she could no longer endure living with her husband, Rory. She mentioned that she couldn’t take their children with her because she lacked the financial means to care for them, as her new lover was unemployed. For a few years following her departure, Bryar and Lane would receive random postcards from exotic destinations where Bobbi vacationed with her latest partner. This oil tycoon slipped in right after she broke things off with the unemployed Australian. Even those simple greetings eventually stopped coming.

The last Bryar heard, her mother had married her rich boyfriend and lived in Paris.

Regardless of Lane’s actions, Bryar believed she should support him.

“He owes you nothing. Neither do I. Leave my establishment or I’ll call Sheriff Charley and tell him you’re trespassing.”

Reno, unaffected by her threat, smoothed the tips of his fingers down his broad, pockmarked jaw. “Spirited, just like Lane. That’s what I found inspiring about him. Righteous to the core. No need to involve the law, honey. We’re only chit-chatting, getting some information out in the open so we know where each other stands.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she reminded herself that men like Reno fed off weaker people. She refused to allow him to intimidate her. “If that's the case, then say what you need to say and leave my bar.”

A flicker of emotion spanned his features—was it respect or irritation? “There’s not much your poor brother can do from his cell, not until he’s released, yet something tells me that since you and he are so close, you know where he’d hide something that doesn’t belong to him.”

She dropped her arms to her sides in frustration. “My brother doesn’t have your money.”

His grin grew thin. “Are you making an assumption?”

“If he had your money, he would have hired someone better than his crooked attorney who didn’t know his ass from the judge’s” She raised her chin defiantly.

“Even crooked attorneys don’t come cheap, my dear. Regardless, I want my money returned.”

“Hit hard times, have you?” she said with an arched eyebrow.

“I appreciate your sass. I figure you might be the apple of some poor man’s eye, huh? Now, back to the money. If it’s returned, we can overlook Lane’s lack of loyalty.”

“You might as well give up on that dream because he didn’t steal anything, especially your money.” She watched as Reno surveyed the bar's interior as if looking for something.

“You and Rory have done some renovations recently. You sure have a nice place here. I’ve always wanted to own a quaint bar where everyone could gather. What does it bring in each month? Ten grand? Maybe twelve in a good month? That’s hardly a lucrative business, even for a small town like this. Oh, that’s right. Lane left a stain on the family name, diluting the business. What a shame. Business owners go bankrupt all the time.”

Her throat spasmed. Reno had done his homework, which didn’t surprise her. “That’s not your concern. Aren’t you too preoccupied with everyone else’s affairs to fuss over mine?”

“I’m just looking out for you. No need to get your panties all in a bunch. I’m here to get my money back so we can all be friends again.”

“If you’re accusing me of stealing your money, you’re barking up the wrong tree. I wouldn’t use your blood money if it meant starving to death on the tip of an iceberg.”

“Did you hear about the fire that destroyed the shoe store? What a shame that was. The insurance covered only about half the cost of rebuilding. Wouldn’t it be terrible if something awful happened to Crazy Shades Bar?” He clicked his tongue. “I imagine you and Rory are just a hair’s breadth away from disaster. You’re quitting your job as an elementary school teacher to help run the family business now that your poor dad is stuck in a wheelchair. I bet there are times he wishes he’d passed away from the stroke. Does he even realize how dire the financial situation is here?”

Anger rushed through her. “What do you want? Cut the bullshit and get this over with.”

“I have a proposition. I noticed that van outside. You make food runs, correct?” She didn’t bother answering. “I could use your services. It pays well. Ask Lane. He’ll tell you.”

“Over my dead body will I lift one finger to help you,” she said through clenched lips. She’d never go down for a man like Reno Santos.

“Too bad. So much pride for a little lady.” He sighed dramatically. “Then I guess you’ll return every red cent your brother stole from me. To the tune of about forty grand.”

“I don’t own a money tree. You can’t bleed a turnip.” She held her ground, although she felt the floor tremble under her feet.

“I’ll tell you what. I’m kind-hearted and understand the impact of the poor economy, I’ll give you and your father a break. You can pay it in three easy installments, and I won’t charge you any interest. That's pretty generous of me, don’t you think?”

She folded her hands into tight fists. “I still don’t have that kind of money.”

He shrugged and slid off the stool, reaching for his cane to hold himself upright. “Then I guess you’ll have to weigh your options, whether you want to help me or pay me.”

“And if I say no?”

Reno clicked his fingers, and the door swung open. Monty, the ex-bodybuilder, now turned thug, strolled in. His once-muscular physique appeared almost distorted, like some caricature. “You remember Monty, right?”

Rumors about Reno’s go-to person surfaced years ago. They’d met in prison, where Monty was serving time for involuntary manslaughter because he’d “accidentally” killed a man during a bar fight. If Bryar had to guess, the incident wasn’t an accident, and Monty had done far worse since he’d been set free.

“Monty has a skill turning a no into a yes.” Reno’s indulgent grin made Bryar’s knees shake. “I’m sure you’ll need some time to consider your options. I’ll give you a week.” He stepped toward the door.

“What if I go to Sheriff Charley and tell him about this conversation? You’ve threatened me, and it’s on camera.” She pointed at the surveillance camera, hoping Reno wouldn’t realize it wasn’t working. She hadn’t had the time to get it fixed.

“You could, but you won’t. You’re not like your brother but a woman with brains and plenty of logic. You understand the cause-and-effect game. You have this lovely bar, a father, and a brother who is a sitting duck in prison. We’re never guaranteed tomorrow, are we? Those who play with sharks eventually get bitten. Lane is a prime example of that.”

“Get out,” she seethed.

“As always, my pleasure. We’ll talk soon.” His laughter echoed until the door shut behind him.

Bryar picked up a stein and almost hurled it, but self-control stopped her from throwing the glass. She couldn’t afford to replace it.

She rushed over to lock the bolt and leaned against the door for support.

Anger surged through her—anger at her brother for getting involved with Reno and toward the criminal who believed he was indispensable. Her frustration also extended to the townsfolk who had tolerated Reno for so many years so now he thought he was above the law.

Pushing away from the door, she retrieved the faded picture from her back pocket. Her son's cherubic face calmed her. She slid the photo back into place and turned down the lights.

Behind the bar, she poured herself a tequila shot and downed it, pouring herself a second against better judgment. This time, she took it slower.

Had Lane stolen Reno’s money? She couldn’t believe that her brother would do something like that—or maybe she didn’t want to believe it. Yet, she hadn’t believed he’d been involved with criminal activity until he was arrested and found guilty of drug charges.

Now here they were. Bryar had left her job as a third-grade teacher to manage Crazy Shades Bar, and soon after, she had to move in with her father to care for him after his stroke. Everything rested on her shoulders, including their finances. To pay for Lane’s attorney, she’d scraped together every cent she’d saved and taken out a second mortgage on the bar. She'd be forced to sell if things didn’t start looking up soon. Business wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good, not enough with her father’s medical bills. The bar had lost many regulars after word got out that Lane had been arrested for drug trafficking. Although the townsfolk put on a front during Sunday church services and told her how much they cared, she knew dang good and well that they were spreading rumors like wildfire the minute she walked away.

She couldn’t let Reno win or corner her, yet what could she do? Lane had warned Bryar during his trial that Reno was dangerous. He’d go to any lengths to make someone pay if he felt crossed.

“Now that looks like a proper ending to a bad day.”

Bryar lifted her chin, seeing her sister-in-law. “There’s enough for two. How’d you get in?”

Crystal slid upon the stool and laid her purse on the bar. “Back door was unlocked. Make mine a double. On my way home, I saw the van still outside and thought I’d stop and check on you. You okay?”

“Living my best life.”

“Pretty much sums up my day. Sometimes, I think teenagers are built to test an adult’s patience.”

After filling a shot glass and setting it before Crystal, Bryar teased, “Who claimed teaching high school would be rewarding?”

“No one who’s ever taught high school, that’s who.” Crystal rubbed her temples. “There were numerous fights I had to break up, including a food fight that ruined my new shirt.” She sported a large ketchup stain on her white blouse. “It’s too soon in the school year for restless energy.”

Bryar knew it probably wasn’t the best time to ask about Lane, but since he refused to speak to or see her, she had no other choice. “Have you spoken to my brother?”

Crystal shook her head, sending tendrils of hair falling out of her bun. “Nope. He still won’t respond to my letters.” Disappointment filled her delicate features. Since Lane had gone to prison, she’d moved in with Bryar and Rory because she had exhausted all her savings trying to ease Lane’s legal woes.

Bryar felt a migraine coming on.

“I know this is a lot to ask, but I could use some help here. Sabrina quit. She was my most reliable server.”

“I can take weekend shifts and maybe a couple of weekday evenings.”

Bryar nodded. “Thank you. That will help until things get a little better financially.”

Crystal reached over and patted Bryar’s hand. “We’re in this together.”

Wishing she could tell her sister-in-law about Reno’s visit, she clamped her mouth against the words—or any further questions about Lane, at least for now. Crystal had taken her separation from Lane hard and she’d been seeing her therapist twice weekly to alleviate some of the anxiety she was feeling.

Downing the shot, Crystal slipped off the barstool. “I’m grabbing dinner and then taking myself to bed. I have to be up early because it’s teachers’ in-service day.”

“Want me to make you something?” Bryar offered.

“Thanks, but I’ll just have a bowl of cereal at home.” She headed toward the back door. Bryar reminded herself she needed to start locking it. She couldn’t let Reno enter again after hours. Crystal paused and glanced back at Bryar. “You sure you’re okay? You seem a bit…preoccupied.”

She put on a fake smile that had become second nature lately. “So busy I can’t think straight. I’m heading out too in a few. I’ll see you at home.”

Exhausted from the long day on her feet, she finished closing and left through the back door to get into the old white van they used to make deliveries. It had become Bryar’s only source of transportation after she’d sold her car to help pay for Lane’s lawyer fees.

She turned the key, and the old van sputtered to life, likely waking some nearby neighbors who probably wished she would walk home. It was too late for that, and she was too tired. She eased onto the quiet street, the van clanking as if the engine was filled with nails and bolts. While she didn’t like it, she knew she would eventually have to take it to the mechanic. She couldn’t afford a shop visit, but she couldn’t risk having the engine fail on the road and have a tow service bill tacked onto repairs.

As she braked at the red light, she stared ahead, feeling the world's weight on her shoulders. Now, she had to deal with Reno. The universe kept starting fires for her to manage.

The light turned green, and she pressed on the gas. The van jerked and backfired, blowing black smoke into the air.

As if her day hadn’t been difficult enough, blue and red lights appeared behind her.

With a frustrated sigh, she pulled over on the street and rolled down her window to greet Sheriff Charley as he approached. “Isn’t it a little late for you to be out harassing the public?” she said to the man who was best friends with her father and like an uncle to Bryar.

“Young lady, what did I tell you about this heap of junk?” he said from underneath his wide-brimmed hat that was too small for his large head.

“Refresh my memory.” She liked Charley, thought of him as family, but she felt he had better things to do on a Monday evening than pull her over for something he knew she had no control over.

“This…this heap of metal and rusted fenders is a disturbance of the peace. You know how often you’ve made Edith Brown spill her evening tea on her lap because your van backfires and scares the marmalade out of her?”

“No, I don’t know how many times Mrs. Brown has spilled her tea on her lap, but I do know that she thoroughly enjoys spilling the tea at church services. That’s a personal problem if you ask me.”

His silver brows scrunched. “Are you being sassy with me, young lady?” He sniffed loudly.

“Charley, why would I get sassy with you? I know you’re only doing your job by keeping the peace in our lovely town. It just so happens that I’m taking this antique over to Derry tomorrow morning. He’ll have her fixed up in no time.”

His creased features softened some. His bark was much bigger than his bite. “I’m not sure what Derry can do to help this thing, but at least it’s a start. How’s your dad doing by the way? It’s been a while since I’ve been over to see him.”

“He’s as feisty as ever.”

“Nothing can keep a good man down.” He touched the brim of his hat. “You get on home now, girl. Tell Rory I said hello and I’ll pay him a visit soon.”

“Will do, Sheriff.”

Through her rearview mirror, she watched him climb into his truck, and as he drove off, she waved. She pulled away from the street and drove a few streets to the Victorian home where she grew up. The house needed work, too. Everything needed work, including her. She hadn’t been on a morning run in months. Her nails were chipped and uneven. Her hair needed a scheduled appointment with a box of dye. And she hadn’t bought herself anything new in months. She was a mess.

Parking on the street, she locked the doors to the van and then decided to leave them unlocked. It would be a win if someone stole it. She hoped the insurance hadn’t lapsed.

She made her way into the house and slipped off her boots. Her feet were killing her and she gave her sore toes a wiggle.

She heard the TV on in the living room.

“Dad, you still awake?”

“In here,” he called from the living room where he was watching reruns of Little House on the Prairie.

She shook the food bag she brought from the bar. “I have your favorite—seafood mac and cheese.” Her words froze on her lips when she saw her father. He had pieces of blood-stained toilet paper scattered all over his face.

“Daddy? What the hell? Did you use a knife to shave?”

“I did it without a mirror,” he grumbled.

“I’ve told you that I can help you.”

He waved a gnarled hand through the air. “What kind of life is it when a man can’t shave himself?”

“It’s only temporary. You’ll regain your strength and return to doing all the things you love, like driving me crazy.” She kissed him on the top of his head. “Now eat your dinner.”

“I appreciate your vote of confidence.” Instead of rummaging through his bag, he chuckled at the scene on TV. He’d lost weight, and even she began questioning the doctor’s optimistic belief that Rory would walk again.

“How was physical therapy today?”

“Same old shit just another day,” he snorted.

Bryar hid her smile. “I’m so proud of you for sticking with it.”

“The therapist is a witch. She expects me, at my age, to lift weights.”

“Daddy, if it were fun, they wouldn’t call it physical therapy. They’d call it a play date.” She felt sorry for the therapist who came every other day to work with him.

“I’ll be back working the bar in no time,” he replied, wagging his brows. “Are you going back to the school then?”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.” She was too tired to open that can of worms. “Charley said to tell you hello after he harassed me about the exhaust on the van again.”

“You know the old geezer has nothing better to do,” Rory said, shaking his head, sending strands of his thinning hair onto his forehead.

“But I do. I like taking a long, hot bath and forgetting about the day. Eat your dinner,” she gently insisted again before heading upstairs. As she passed Crystal’s closed bedroom door, she caught a bit of a muffled conversation that sounded like another argument on the phone between Crystal and her mother. She’d been urging—or demanding—Crystal divorce Lane and move to Florida, where her retired parents now lived.

Inside her bedroom, Bryar removed the picture from her pocket and placed it on the nightstand before heading into the bathroom to remove her clothing, grateful she didn’t have to share it with anyone. She saw enough people during the day that she enjoyed her privacy at home.

She ran water into the bathtub, poured some lavender oil in, and climbed in before the tub had time to fill. The water felt heavenly against her sore, aching muscles. Sinking deeper, she closed her eyes as the water reached her chest. She allowed her body to go weightless, wishing she could disappear…

Knock. Knock.

She flicked one eye open. And then the other. “Yes?”

“Can I come in?” Crystal asked.

What Bryar wanted to say would probably cause some friction, so she said sweetly, “Sure.”

Bryar and Crystal had been friends since they wore pigtails, but since she married Lane, they didn’t talk about everything and anything anymore, especially since he’d been sentenced. They all seemed to be walking on eggshells these days.

“Another argument with your mom?” Bryar asked.

“You heard?”

“Part of it.”

“So much for going to bed,” Crystal moaned. “Mother can’t seem to let me live my own life.”

“I understand completely. Daddy always needs to know my business. He forgets I’m nearing thirty.”

Crystal dropped down onto the closed toilet seat. “Thankfully, I remembered to stop and pick up eggs from Sandy Sullivan on my way home. You’ll never believe what she told me.”

“If I won’t believe it, then I don’t think I’ll ever guess.” Bryar shook her head and stared at the swirls on the ceiling.

“Puma Steel is back in Shades Cove.”

Coming out of the water so fast that some trickled over the tub's rim, she didn’t care that she flashed Crystal in the process. “You didn’t say—”

“You heard me. Puma is back.”

Although Bryar had thought about the man daily for the last ten years, she hadn’t said his name aloud as if the mere mention of him might cause her world to cave in.

Suddenly, the water felt ice cold. She couldn’t get her voice to work. A rush of anger made her neck hurt.

“He’s back living at Storm Pass.” Crystal’s eyes were about as bright as the flame on the lit candle sitting on the sink. “According to Sandy, he’s been back for almost a week. A week! And he hasn’t spoken to you?”

“A week?” Bryar was fully aware that her voice cracked. Why hadn’t anyone told her? Usually, she hears every rumor about everything over at the bar.

“Yeah.” Crystal bobbed her head up and down.

Bryar covered her chest with a washcloth and sat up straighter. “How am I just now hearing this?”

“Don’t have a clue but what will you do?” Crystal seemed very invested. “After all, you two are still—"

“Don’t say it.” Bryar’s chest felt like it would cave in.

“I was only guessing, but you two really are still—”

“Stop. Daddy might overhear.” Her father had an uncanny way of knowing everything ever uttered within the house's walls.

“What will you do?” Crystal repeated in a whisper.

“I don’t give a hoot if he’s back in town. It means nothing to me.” she said, trying to act nonchalant, even though her pulse had reached a fever pitch.

“Even though you two—” This time Bryar’s narrowed gaze cut her off. Crystal pretended to lock up her mouth with an invisible key. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that reunion. It should be very interesting.”

Bryar waved a hand as if she could dismiss the chance. “We won’t.”

“Do you plan on moving?”

“No, but I know him better than he knows himself. He’s not here to stay.”

“No? But Sandy said he rehired her husband and a crew to care for the ranch. They’re even renovating.”

That news surprised Bryar. Why was he renovating Storm Pass? His father had died two years ago, and she’d assumed Storm left the homestead to Puma. However, she didn’t expect him to return. The last she heard, he was part of a special ops branch in the military. Shades Cove seemed too dull for someone like Puma, who thrived on danger and exotic locations. There was no way he would stay in town. “He must be renovating to sell the house.”

Crystal’s expression soured. “But Sandy seemed pretty certain…”

“I don’t care what Sandy said.” But a part of Bryar felt shaky, unsure of her conviction. “In fact, you seem a bit too excited that he’s back in town.”

“Because I remember just how hot you two were together. The way you two would look at each like two puppies so in love—”

“Crystal! I don’t romanticize what he and I shared, so you shouldn’t.”

“Why not go and ask him what his intentions are? So you know where he is with things. Cut to the chase.” She plucked a piece of lint off her sweatshirt.

Bryar braced her arms on the tub's edge and laid her chin on her hands. “I have nothing to say to him.” Seeing Crystal’s smirk, Bryar sighed. “I don’t.”

“How long have we known each other? You can’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying. I have nothing to say to him.” She squirted some soap into her palm and scrubbed her face clean.

“I think you missed a spot. You have a bit of skin left around your nose,” Crystal said with a smile.

“What he and I shared is over. Too many years have passed.”

“Then why can’t you say his name?” Crystal asked.

“Puma. There, you happy?” Why did her tongue burn like she’d eaten a batch of her grandmother’s Satan Spicy Fritters? “Now, can I finish my bath in privacy, please?”

“Fine.” Crystal stood up. “I have other things I need to do. Like sleeping.” She walked toward the door.

“Crystal?”

“Yeah?”

“Did Lane mention anything to you about hiding something important?”

“Hiding something? Like what?” The area between her brows creased.

“Never mind. Silly question. I’ll see you in the morning.”