18. Bradyn
CHAPTER 18
brADYN
I f ever there was a day I might actually lose the leash I’ve put on my temper, it would be today. I told Sharon that I wanted employees to be kept quiet. I specifically told her that, unless Sammy wanted to speak with her, she was not to be included in the article.
And what happened?
The woman somehow managed to get an immense amount of information—far beyond what I told her—on the fire itself, and the damage, as well as the full scoop on Sammy—her injuries, what happened that night, and a photo of her that was clearly taken from a distance sometime before even I came back home. The green magnolia trees in the background serve as proof of that.
I glare down at the newspaper in front of me as I try to decide how I want to proceed. Sammy was furious when I told her. Even angrier when she saw the image printed of her in the newspaper. She’d insisted on going home and barely spoke the entire ride back.
Which just makes me even angrier. Whoever fed Sharon this information ruined what was turning into a great trip.
Someone knocks on my door. “Come in,” I call out. The door remains unlocked as it usually is. Bravo raises his head as Dylan comes in, looking just as cruddy as I feel. “It was Arthur,” he says. “They had dinner last night, and she sweet-talked him into providing not just the photograph but all of the information, too.”
“He’s fired.” He was already on thin ice, and I have a zero-tolerance policy for providing any information to anyone outside of this ranch unless I’ve given explicit permission.
It’s in all the contracts our new hires sign and something I refuse to bend on.
While we don’t have secrets here, I want to avoid drama or fallacies from being spread about this place. And keeping our employees tight-lipped is the best way to do it.
“Already done. He’s packing his stuff as we speak.”
“Good. Thanks.”
“You looked a little close to a lit fuse, so I figured I’d handle it for you. Sammy okay?”
“She was relatively quiet on the drive back, but I know she’s mad.”
“I would be, too. Guy made her sound like a helpless damsel in need of rescuing. Sammy isn’t like that at all.”
“It’s just part of the many things I’m angry about.” I cross my arms and lean back against the counter. “I told Sharon to drop it. That, unless Sammy wanted to talk to her, there was nothing anyone else had to say.”
“You going to deal with her?”
“There’s not much I can do. I already sent off an email to the editor of the paper, letting them know that Hunt Ranch does not appreciate what was printed, nor do we endorse it, but what’s done is done. This is hardly the first time we’ve had a news story printed about us we didn’t care for.”
“You’re not wrong there.”
It wasn’t too long ago that an employee we’d fired for being abusive toward our horses went to the news and told them that Hunt Ranch was a hazardous place to work and that he’d been fired for no reason. The article was a complete fallacy, of course, and given that everyone in town knows it, there wasn’t a ton of backlash. But that was the straw that had us tightening up our hiring process.
This ranch is the largest in the area, and the last thing we need is to end up a target for someone looking to make a name for themselves.
“It wasn’t a bad article, at least. Aside from the way she portrayed Sammy, of course. That was pathetic.”
“Sharon loves to tear people down,” I remind him. “It’s what she’s always been good at.” I rub my hands over my face and sigh. “Okay, so Arthur has been fired. He’ll be gone by morning. That’s one problem taken care of. The email to the editor has been sent, and while I don’t expect anything to come from it, I can only hope they’ll be more cautious. And as far as Sharon goes, we keep her off the property. I don’t want to see her anywhere near this ranch. We can’t risk her getting wind of the details linked to the Search & Rescue side of things because once she does?—”
“Operating off the record will get a lot more difficult if there are any photographs of us out there linking us to specific cases. I got it. She stays off the property.”
“Then that’s all we can do.”
“What about Sammy? She was really upset?”
“Yeah. She was. I’ll talk to her. Mom called and said she’d have dinner ready by seven. I’ll take Sammy hers.”
Dylan nods. “How’d today go, by the way? How was your outing?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb with me.”
“We had a good time. Sammy’s a good worker.”
“She’s gorgeous, too. And kind. Smart.” He’s fishing, but I don’t intend to bite.
“Sounds like you’re interested.”
He laughs. “Nah, I like her fine, but not the way you clearly do.”
“As I told you before, I barely know her.”
“You should know her better after the drive today. Or did you keep your foot in your mouth and not actually ask anything of value?”
I glare at him. “We had a great time until—” Another knock at the door. “Come in.”
Elliot opens the door. “We have company.”
“Who?”
“Some guy in a black SUV. Asked to speak with you directly.”
“Did he say who he was?”
Elliot’s expression says it all. Whoever this guy is, it’s not good news.
“I’ll head up now. Dylan, check in with Riley and see if Arthur called in a suit.”
“Will do.”
“Do you really think he called a lawyer?” Elliot asks as we head for the front door.
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” I roll my shoulders. “Bravo, heel. ” The dog jumps up and follows me out the door, keeping close by as we make our way toward my truck. Dylan jumps onto a four-wheeler and takes off toward the cabins while Elliot gets behind the wheel of his own truck.
“Something feels off about this,” he says before closing his door. “I can’t pinpoint why, but something feels off.”
“Let’s find out what he wants,” I tell him. “Then we’ll see if there’s something to worry about.” I wait for Bravo to jump in then climb in behind him and shut my door. Given the nature of our company, it could be someone needing us.
We’re word of mouth only, so if that’s why this guy is here, he’ll know one of our other clients, too. But somehow, I seriously doubt this guy is here to ask for our help. I’m not sure how I know, but I just do.
Call it discernment, intuition…whatever it is, I have a pit in my stomach.
The drive up to the main house doesn’t take too long, but by the time I’ve put my truck into Park, I’ve managed to pray my way out of coming into this impromptu meeting on the defensive.
A black SUV with tinted windows sits in front of my parents’ house. Two men wearing dark suits stand just outside of it, and even though their eyes are covered with dark sunglasses, I can feel their gazes on me as I get out of the truck.
Bravo jumps out with me, and as we get closer, his body language shifts from happy puppy to attentive working dog. He doesn’t like them.
And I trust his intuition over even my own.
I make my way into the house to find both of my parents sitting at a table with a middle-aged man wearing a black button-down suit. The slight bulge beneath his left arm means he’s armed, too.
My mom gets up when she sees me. “Bradyn, this is Klive Newart.” He stands and offers me his hand.
“Mr. Newart,” I greet. “Bradyn Hunt.” I shake his hand, noting the way he squeezes as a form of intimidation. If only he knew I’m not intimidated by any man who walks this earth.
“It’s great to meet you,” he replies then releases my hand and takes a seat. “I was just telling your mother here that she makes the best sweet tea in the country.”
My mom blushes. “Well, I don’t know if that’s true, but I appreciate the compliment.”
Dad has yet to say anything, so I momentarily let my gaze travel to where he sits at the end of the table, noting the stiffness of his posture. He doesn’t like this man either. “Come on, Ruth,” he says. “Let’s leave them to this meeting.” He doesn’t spare another glance at the man as he takes my mom’s hand, though he offers me a look that speaks volumes. Be careful .
I take a seat, and Bravo sits beside me, his gaze trained straight ahead at the stranger. “What can I do for you, Mr. Newart?”
“Right to the point, then?” he asks with a laugh. “I like you, Mr. Hunt.”
“Bradyn,” I correct. “And I don’t see the point in beating around the bush.”
“I’m not a fan of that, either,” he says. As he reaches into his jacket pocket, Bravo lets loose a low warning growl. “Just grabbing a piece of paper,” he tells us with a smile that’s dripping with venom. “My employer is looking for someone, and we think you might be able to help.”
“Who recommended you?” It’s not typically the first question we ask, but given Bravo’s reaction combined with my own gut feeling, I need to know who sent this man my way so I can determine whether or not he can be trusted.
“My employer didn’t say,” he replies.
“Then who is your employer?”
Klive smiles, but there’s no kindness in it. “My employer must remain anonymous. At least until you accept the job. Then you can sign an NDA, and we’ll go from there.”
“Then we don’t have any business here.” I stand, and Bravo gets to his feet. The other man doesn’t move, though.
“I’m afraid I must insist on anonymity.”
“And I’m afraid that I must insist on declining this job. I don’t work for people I don’t know, and I won’t accept the job without knowing who’s offering it.”
His expression turns even more frustrated. “He’s looking for his daughter.” He sets a photograph down on the table, and I stare down at the young woman in the picture. Leaning forward, I take it from the table, that pit in my stomach turning into a full-on canyon.
Her hair color is different, darker than the strands of sunshine pulled back into a tight ballerina bun. But those eyes—I’d recognize them anywhere. Even though they’re dull compared to the real thing.
Sammy is staring back at me, her expression unreadable. Both hands are folded in her lap, and she’s wearing a pink skirt and a pink suit jacket. The background is neutral, clearly a photo studio of some kind.
“Who is your employer?” I ask again, setting the photograph down as I mask my expression. Until I know the entire situation and get a chance to talk to Sammy, I’ll betray nothing.
“Senator Alexander Brown,” he replies in frustration, clearly realizing that, unless he starts answering my questions, I have nothing to say. “That’s his daughter, Olivia. She’s been missing two years and is believed to be in grave danger.”
“Was there a call for ransom?”
“No. She was just gone one night, and he hasn’t seen her since. We heard no word from anyone, and no one made the claim that they’d seen her.”
“Then what makes you think she’s still alive?”
“Because of this.” He lifts a newspaper from the table and tosses it toward me, Sammy’s picture face-up. It’s grainy, of course, given that it’s an article, but clear enough that someone looking for her will draw conclusions. “This woman works here, right?”
“You believe that the daughter of a senator is being held captive on this ranch? Is that the accusation you’re throwing my direction?”
“Of course not. I’m merely suggesting you aren’t fully aware of the people on your staff.”
“The woman that works here is named Sammy. She’s been employed here for a month, just like the article states.”
“We’re considering the possibility that she ran away and has been in hiding. If that’s the case, using a pseudonym wouldn’t be out of the question.”
Every alarm bell in my head is screeching at full volume. There’s something wrong here, very, very wrong. “I’m afraid that, if you’re here to interrogate my employees, I can’t help you. Have a good day, Mr. Newart.”
“Just let me speak with her. If it’s not Olivia, then there’s no harm, correct?”
“ Sammy was already interrogated enough. Which you would know if you read that article. She’s injured, and I will not be putting her through any more stress, so you can check a box for your employer. I’m sorry his daughter is missing, and I truly wish you the best of luck in tracking her down.” I gesture toward the door.
“She’s precious to him.” Switching tactics, he tries pleading.
“I’m sure she is, and if I believed that she was working here on the ranch, I would handle it.”
“You find people, don’t you? That’s the nature of your business.” When I don’t respond, he keeps speaking. “You won’t even give tracking Olivia a try?”
“I don’t make the call alone. Leave the file, and I’ll discuss with my partners then get back to you on whether or not we’ll take the case.”
“You don’t know this woman,” he insists, pointing to the newspaper. “If she hasn’t been working here long. She could be anyone. It’s really not that difficult to get onto this property. She could be right under your nose, and you wouldn’t even sense the threat until it was too late.” The underlying threat does not go unnoticed by me. Bravo lets loose another warning growl as the man takes a step closer to me.
“I miss very little, Mr. Newart. And I can assure you that I have everything here under control. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll happily take your accusations to Sammy so we can all have a good laugh about it later. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do, and you’re currently standing in the way of that.”
He glares at me for a moment, a clear challenge in his dark gaze. Then he drops the mask back into place and smiles. “I hope that you know your employees better than I do, Mr. Hunt.” Reaching into his pocket, he withdraws a business card and sets it on the table. “If you happen to see anything, please give me a call.”
I don’t touch the card, nor do I lead him out of the house. Exposing my back to this man seems a dangerous game I’ve no intention of playing.
“I am sorry for your wasted trip,” I reply. “I do hope it wasn’t a long one.”
“It was well worth it, Mr. Hunt,” he says as he pulls the door open. “Have a great day. Tell your mother I really appreciated her tea. Hopefully, I’ll be able to have some again someday.” He heads down the porch toward his vehicle where one of the suits opens his door and the other climbs behind the wheel.
My dad steps out onto the porch as they’re pulling out of the drive. “Something about that man was off.”
“I agree.”
“What did he want?”
“He was looking for someone.” I turn to my dad. “When you hired Sammy, did she have any next of kin listed?”
“No,” he replies. “I don’t think so. We can check her employee file, though.” He turns and heads into the house.
“I’ll be right there. I need to check in with Dylan.” Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I give him a call.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“I need you to make sure that SUV leaves the property. It’s top priority. Track him and make sure he doesn’t double back.”
“Headed to my truck now.”
I end the call and wait until I see Dylan’s truck pulling away from the employee cabins. He offers me a wave as he passes our parents’ house, and only when I’m certain it’s safe do I head inside.