Chapter 3 #2
She hugged her bag closer, the canvas rustling against her shirt. "I … Why? I mean … why … Oh dangumit, I don't understand why they would approach me. And what do you mean by inside my organization?"
Reece glanced down at her. Number one, she was beautiful, but the men didn't seem to be sexual stalkers, which left her work. "Predators like schedules," Reece said. "Mandatory downtime makes people predictable."
Her voice dropped. "Wow, okay, well that's … that's unsettling and scary and creepy as heck." She gave a whole body shiver and narrowed the gap between them while her head was on a swivel.
"It's also useful," he said. "Because it tells me you didn't do anything wrong."
"Huh?" She stopped and looked up at him. "What do you mean?"
"Criminally. You're not involved in any criminal acts. Your mannerisms are honest, and you're actually scared."
"Well, duh. I mean, those guys …" She stopped and narrowed her eyes at him. "How do you know I'm being truthful?"
He smiled. "I've had some training."
She swallowed, the movement visible in her throat. "Man, I keep thinking I should’ve stayed offshore."
"No," Reece said immediately. "That's not what put you at risk."
Her gray eyes flicked to him. "Then what did?"
"I'd wager being good at your job."
"Why do you say that?" She skipped a bit to keep up with him, and he slowed his pace to accommodate her shorter stride.
"What problem were you working on that you didn't want to leave?
" He held up his hand. "I don't want to know specifics, but there was a problem, wasn't there?
That's what you said. You get frustrated when there's a problem you're working on, and you want to solve it before you leave for your mandatory time off.
That's why someone inside your organization wants to keep an eye on you or scare you away. "
"Are you a detective?" She looked up at him.
"No." He chuckled a bit and put his hand on her back, ushering her across the street.
They were a block from the hotel now. Reece spotted the entrance, the uniformed security officer inside visible through the glass doors, and the cameras mounted above them.
The men who’d approached her had followed them and reappeared in reflections. Left. Right. Flanking again. Reece caught the movement in a store window, shadows that didn't match the crowd.
Reece didn't react outwardly. He kept his voice steady. "Put the tablet in your bag. Both hands free."
"Why?"
"Because if someone grabs you, you’ll fight better."
"Oh." She did it without arguing, the sound of the zipper loud in his ears.
When they reached the hotel entrance, Reece slowed just enough to let Maggie step inside first, his hand hovering near the small of her back without touching. The blast of air conditioning hit them, cold and sharp after the heat outside.
"Now, go over to security and tell them what happened. Don't leave anything out," he murmured.
"Do you think that's really necessary? I don't want to be a bother, and they're gone."
"They followed us here." Reece looked down at her, thinking how odd it was to see someone with the same gray-colored eyes that he had.
"You're sure?"
"I saw them multiple times."
She hesitated, then walked to the security officer. "I need to report something. I was accosted and then followed here," she said once she got his attention.
The officer's posture changed instantly, shoulders squaring. "Ma'am, come with me."
Reece stayed close, watching the doors and the street through the tinted glass.
The officer asked for descriptions. Maggie faltered, her hands twisting together.
"Two men," Reece said calmly. "One tall, six-foot, dark shirt, scar over his right eyebrow. One shorter, probably five eight, both with dark brown hair. The smaller one had a prison tattoo on his arm. They boxed her in near the marina and tracked us several blocks."
The officer nodded sharply. "We'll escort you to your room."
Maggie sagged with relief, her shoulders dropping.
"You did good," Reece said quietly.
"I feel stupid," she whispered.
"Don't," he said firmly. "You handled it exactly right."
She looked at him, something steady forming beneath the fear, her breathing finally slowing.
Reece pulled out his phone, the screen warm in his hand. "Put your number in."
"Why?"
"Because this isn't over."
"I was afraid you'd say that," she said as she tapped quickly on the screen.
"If anything feels wrong," Reece said, "you call me. And you don't talk yourself out of it." He called her so she'd have his number.
"I promise," Maggie said softly.
She followed security toward the elevators, glancing back once over her shoulder.
Reece stayed until the doors closed, the soft chime of the elevator fading.
Only then did he turn back to the street.
The men weren't hard to find. Reece had clocked their pattern. They'd circle back, regroup, and decide whether the job was worth the complication. Men like that always did. They operated on orders, not instinct, and orders meant someone was waiting for a report.
He spotted them two blocks over, standing in the mouth of an alley between a souvenir shop and a closed storefront. The taller one was on his phone, his back to the street. The shorter one leaned against the brick wall, arms crossed, eyes scanning the flow of tourists.
Reece didn't hesitate.
He crossed the street at an angle, his movements easy and unhurried. Just another tourist. Just another guy walking off lunch. The alley smelled like garbage because the dumpster at the far end was overflowing. The shade was a relief from the sun, cooler here where the buildings blocked the light.
The shorter man noticed him first. His posture shifted, shoulders coming off the wall.
"Hey, man, this is—"
Reece moved.
Fast.
He closed the distance in three strides, his hand clamping around the man's throat before he could finish the sentence. Reece slammed him back against the brick, lifting him clean off his feet. The man's shoes scraped uselessly against the wall as his hands clawed at Reece's wrist.
The taller one spun around, phone dropping from his hand and clattering on the pavement.
Reece's free hand shot out, catching him by the front of his shirt and yanking him close. "Don't give me a reason to get mad."
The man froze, eyes wide.
Reece's voice was quiet. Controlled. "Nod if you understand me."
The man nodded, his breath coming fast and shallow.
Reece shifted his grip on the one he held against the wall, applying just enough pressure to make breathing difficult but not impossible. The man's face was turning red, his eyes bulging.
"Who sent you?" Reece asked.
Neither man answered.
Reece increased the pressure slightly. The man against the wall made a choked sound, his legs kicking weakly.
"I'm not asking again."
The taller one tried to pull away, but Reece jerked him forward, slamming him into the wall beside his partner. The impact was loud, echoing in the narrow space.
"Next time," Reece said, his voice flat and final, "you won't walk away."
Then he released the man against the wall, letting him drop. The man crumpled to the ground, gasping, his hands going to his throat. Reece stepped back, his eyes on the taller one.
"You're going to take a message back to whoever's paying you," Reece said. "Tell them to stop. Stop now, or pay the consequences."
The taller man nodded quickly, too quickly, his face pale.
Reece held his gaze for another beat, then turned and walked out of the alley. His hands were steady. His breathing was even.
Behind him, he heard coughing and the scrape of shoes on pavement.
He didn't look back. He’d spent a year wondering what was missing. Purpose had a way of finding you when you stopped running from it. And it didn’t hurt that the purpose he found today was cute, talkative, and distinctly his type.
And whoever had decided Maggie Brooks was an easy target had just stepped into his world.