Chapter 2
2
Landon Sommers sprinted up the hillside, his lungs burning as he pushed his body harder and rounded the corner of the dirt path. His boots crunched over the gravel, sending a few small rocks skittering into a narrow ravine. He shifted his weight to keep from sliding down the slope. Suddenly, a blur of movement shot past him. “Shit, Sadie,” he cursed under his breath.
Sadie Hargrove was a coworker who used her smaller size to round the curves and hug the side of the hill to keep her balance. “Catch up, Landon.” She laughed. “Don’t make me label you an old man.”
Old man. He knew she was joking, but he had to admit that the words stung slightly more than he cared to admit. He sure as hell felt older than his thirty-seven years some days. He had been in the military, then special ops. Then he’d worked as an FBI agent for years, last stationed in California. He was currently employed with a private security company. Some might wonder about the numerous employment changes, but he’d gotten closer to perfection with each career move. Now, he was a Keeper for Lighthouse Security Investigations Montana. If a more perfect job existed for him, he couldn’t imagine it.
He caught up to Sadie, and as they rounded the last curve together, he spied several other Keepers already at the rendezvous point. Within a moment, the others arrived. Their boss, Logan Bishop, handed out water bottles and protein bars as they plopped down on the hard-packed dirt and watched the sun glide over the mountains to the west. He twisted the cap off and took a long, refreshing gulp.
He sat between Sisco Aguilar and Jim Devlin, known as Devil. Both men had served with Logan, joining him in the successful endeavor of LSIMT. Their pilot, Cole Iverson, sat across from him, along with brothers Frazier and Dalton Dolby. Aldo Caspani, known as Casper, was the quiet one of the group, sitting slightly to the side. While light on conversation, he made up for it with stealth. Todd Blake and Cory Brighton sat nearby, their backs against the large boulders and their eyes trained on the sky. Timothy Clemons's gaze was upward, but he appeared to be staring at the light tower on the mountaintop.
The light tower was an old throwback to when airplanes needed to be warned of mountain ranges in the dark to be guided safely over the tops, much like the old lighthouse keepers near the water. Hence, the original name of Lighthouse Security Investigation. Mace Hanover, who started the original LSI in Maine, expanded to the West Coast, where Carson Dyer ran that branch. Now, the latest LSI operation was based in Montana.
After their rest, Logan stood, and everyone gave their attention to their leader as the LSIMT manager, Bert Tomlison, rode into view on a four-wheeled Gator. As they watched, he swept the canvas off the back of the vehicle, allowing them to see it was filled with T15 paintball guns, replicas of the US Army's M4 assault rifle.
“Hell yeah!” The shouts rang out as Landon and the others took to their feet, each hustling over to claim their weapons. There was playful jostling while the Keepers still maintained competitiveness. One thing Landon knew about the Keepers from all three localities was that the bosses liked to encourage cooperation as well as competitiveness, and training was essential for both.
The trip down the mountain involved dodging paintball hits, ducking behind boulders, racing around curves, and even a few skids down into small ravines. By the time Landon arrived back at headquarters for the group to be dismissed, he was ready to hit the showers before heading home for the evening. Calling out his goodbye, he climbed into his SUV and rumbled down the road.
He had purchased land not far from the compound and built a house. Since he was living alone, it would have been easy to keep the structure small, and at times, he wondered why he didn’t. He’d watched when the men and women from the LSI West Coast had fallen in love, married, and started families. Logan was now married to Vivian, a woman he’d met on an assignment. Even Sisco was now married to a single mom and had adopted their little girl.
When Landon planned his house, he liked the idea of single-story living with extra bedrooms upstairs. The large living room and owner’s bedroom faced the mountains, with windows allowing easy viewing. The eat-in kitchen, dining room, and office faced the east and offered panoramic scenes of the sunrise. A two-story garage led through a laundry room that led into the kitchen.
The two large bedrooms upstairs both had en suite bathrooms. Those were for guests, which, except for his parents, he’d never had. But one day, he hoped to have someone to share his house with. Snorting, he wondered if Montana wasn’t the place for him to find a forever someone.
That night, he willed sleep to come, but his mind roamed to the other Keepers he’d worked with while in California. Each of them had found great women, perfect for them to fall in love with. So when will it be my turn? And if not, why the fuck did I build this big house?
The dawn streaked across the Montana sky as Landon stood by the sliding glass door, the early light casting a gentle glow over the kitchen. His gaze lingered on the stone patio, where the morning stillness was broken only by the faint chirping of birds. He lifted his mug, the rich aroma of coffee mingling with the crisp air, warming him from the inside out. His mind was still on the thoughts from last night. While he was comfortable with solitude, he wanted someone to share his life with.
His phone vibrated, and he grinned at seeing the caller ID. “Hey, Mom. How’s the sunshine?” His parents had moved from their longtime home in Pennsylvania to South Carolina several years ago. They were desperate for warmer weather and no more snow to contend with.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” she said. “I wanted to check in since I figured you would be heading to work soon.”
“Everything okay?”
“Oh, everything’s fine,” she assured him, her tone laced with fond exasperation. “Though your father decided he could fix the garage door by himself. He nearly toppled off the stepladder. I told him it was a terrible idea, but you know how he is. ‘I’m not paying someone to fix something I can do myself!’” She snorted, the sound both loving and resigned. “I did manage to convince him to get some help. Next thing I know, our seventy-five-year-old neighbor is out there in the garage, trying to help. I finally left them to it. If those two old coots want to strain their backs, who am I to stop them?”
Landon chuckled, the image of his father and their spirited elderly neighbor bumbling around the garage vividly playing in his mind. His parents’ dynamic, filled with humor and unwavering partnership, was something he deeply admired. They had built a marriage on love, laughter, and teamwork, setting a shining example for him and his brother.
“I spoke to Robert the other day,” his mother mentioned casually.
“How’s he doing?”
“If you’d ever call him, then you’d know,” she teased with a playful huff. Before Landon could respond, she continued, “He’s fine. Says work is going well, although I never really understood what on earth he actually does.”
Landon smirked. His brother was seven years younger and was a software engineer for a tech company in California. Landon and his brother enjoyed each other’s company when they met at their parents' house for the holidays but only talked about once a month on the phone. “I’m glad he’s good. I’ll call him in a couple of weeks.”
“I won’t keep you, but I just missed hearing your voice,” she said, her affection evident. “Now, I need to get your father’s breakfast going before my book club luncheon later.”
“Love to you and Dad, Mom. Talk soon.” He ended the call, the lingering warmth of their conversation settling over him. Finishing the last sip of his coffee, he rinsed the cup and set it in the sink. With a deep breath, he grabbed his keys and stepped into the garage, the echo of his mother’s voice still wrapping around him like a comforting embrace. It didn’t take long to drive to the LSIMT compound. Walking into the main building, he passed through the security Logan had built in and headed down the hall.
He smiled at the woman in a wheelchair rolling past him with her tablet and several files on her lap. “Good morning, Mary,” he greeted.
She smiled and nodded. “Logan is about ready to start once everyone gets here.”
“Think he’s got something for me?”
She winked. “Go on in and find out. Then come see me.”
With that bit of encouragement, he grinned and headed inside. Greeting the others, he sat at the conference table with the other Keepers at the compound.
Logan looked up and said, “Okay, let’s get started. Cory, you and Dalton have a security design to work on. You’ll fly to Michigan, leaving the day after tomorrow. Casper… you’ve got a security detail to prepare for. It’ll take you to Canada, so Mary will have all your travel arrangements ready for next week. And Landon, you’ll make a trip to the Caribbean.”
The room buzzed with energy, the voices erupting in fake protestations, all clamoring for the assignment. Logan, sitting at the head of the table, let out a deep laugh and shook his head. “Sorry… this one is for Landon. It’s a slow burn but needs someone with a steady hand. Someone not as scary to kids as the rest of you.”
“Hey!” Sisco protested, lowering his brow. “My little Evie thinks I’m a teddy bear!”
Landon grinned at his friend whose last big assignment brought the beautiful Lenore and her daughter, Evie, into Sisco’s life. Turning his attention back toward his boss, Logan’s expression gave nothing away as he continued to review open and upcoming cases, then dismissed the meeting. Chairs scraped against the floor as the team dispersed, each retreating to various computer stations and desks around the room. Landon walked over to sit beside Logan, his curiosity piqued. He dropped into the seat beside his boss, feeling the weight of something unspoken hanging in the air.
“This just came in,” Logan said, his tone low. “Thurston Fugate reached out. He and his wife, Margaret, own one of the largest ranches in Montana. There’s a situation involving their son, Stan, his ex-wife, Pamela, and their twin grandchildren.”
Landon looked down at his tablet as the information and photographs filled the screen before lifting his gaze back to his boss.
“Thurston came to us because he wants to keep the situation out of the press. The risk of public exposure is high. A friend of his from the FBI referred him to us, and he requested you specifically when he heard about your background—FBI and special ops.”
Landon gave a curt nod, focusing on the unfolding story.
“Stan and Pamela have joint custody of the twins, but Stan has physical custody. The kids live with him on the ranch. They spend two weekends a month with their mom, who has a condo outside of Helena. According to the custody agreement, they also spend spring break and a month in the summer with her. She was unhappy with this arrangement since she gets almost no child support money, but her alimony is way over the top, so when her attorney petitioned the court the last time for more money, the judge shut her down. According to Thurston, her alimony helps support her latest boy toy and lifestyle, but he says it’s worth it to keep her interaction with them at a minimum.”
Landon’s lips tightened. “She sounds charming.”
Logan snorted. “Yeah, a real piece of work. The latest issue? Pamela wanted to whisk the kids off on a Caribbean vacation during school. Stan refused. He didn’t see why he should foot the bill for what he believed was her excuse for a free holiday with her latest fling. But she had them for the weekend and decided to do it anyway. She packed them up, got on a plane, and the next call Stan received was her demanding a new alimony agreement. She dropped the bomb that they were already in the Caribbean.”
Landon blew out a breath, his jaw tightening. “And she’s using the kids as leverage?”
“To get the kids back safely, Stan has had his attorney draw up new agreements, but she refuses to put the kids on a plane until she knows it’s ironclad. She isn’t coming back, afraid that she’ll be arrested. To make matters worse, a storm is brewing in the Atlantic, and it’s approaching Jamaica, where they discovered she and the kids are staying. The Fugates are fast-tracking the agreement but want the kids escorted back home safely. A Montana social worker recommended by the judge will accompany you to ensure the kids are safe and their rights are protected during this process.”
“So the social worker and I fly to Jamaica, get her signature on the new documents, pick up the twins, and then accompany them back to Montana?”
“And transport a $500,000 for her. That’s the plan to pay her off. No money exchanged with her until you are there to take the children back home.”
“What if she refuses to hand the kids over?”
Logan’s expression hardened, his voice like steel. “Then you do whatever it takes to bring them home. She’ll sign away her visitation agreement for the payout. That’s part of the deal.”
Landon’s eyes narrowed further, his mind already working through the logistics. “Do I meet the Fugates first?”
“Yes. They want to go over everything with you personally. You’ll fly out on their private jet. The social worker will be there, too. The twins have been kept in the dark. They think their dad approved the trip.”
Landon exhaled, the weight of responsibility settling over him. “Understood. I’ll get it done.”
Logan gave him a firm nod. “I knew you would.”
“I’ll head home and be ready to leave in less than an hour.”
“Mary will have your info. Bert will have the equipment and weapons bags for you. You can drive to the ranch to meet with the Fugates. We’ll be here for any backup or any problems you encounter.”
“Sounds straightforward,” Landon said.
Logan snorted. “Famous last words. You know as well as I do… any mission can get fucked when you least expect it.”
Landon nodded but prayed that the mother would play nice and just do what she’d agreed for the kids' sake. In-and-out mission. Just the way he liked.