Merrick: BWWM, Over 50's (Members From Money Season 2 #143)

Chapter 1

“You wanted to see me?”

“Come in and close the door behind you.” Commander Williams was going on seventy but was still the tough, no-nonsense leader of the precinct and there was no doubt as to his authority and his ability to run the squad.

His mahogany skin was stretched tautly across his face and his hair was almost white and shaved close to his scalp in a precise military style.

Margo sat on the single chair across from his scarred desk and waited until he had finished signing some sheets.

Pushing away the folder, he looked up at her and folded his large hands in front of him as he studied her face.

“You’re back.”

“I am, yes.”

“And I had to hear it from Michaelson.” His thick bushy brows lifted as he continued to give her his standard intimidating look that would have anyone else in his squad room in a puddle. But not her – Margo Sullivan was one of his best cops and as tough as they come.

“Michaelson talks too damn much. I had every intention of dropping by after I finished the dreaded paperwork. Sir.”

He had to bite back a smile as they both knew she tacked on the last part as an afterthought. He had more or less adopted her since she came on a little over thirty years ago and everyone knew that she was his favorite. She had come fresh from the academy and proven herself from the very beginning.

But then, Margo Sullivan had been hungry and determined to prove herself. Having been brought up in the system, she had basically had to fight for everything she had and had grown up learning to depend on no one but herself.

She was tough and focused on her work. Getting the bad guys was the focal point of her career, leaving room for little else.

“How was it?”

She was about to say that it was all in the report but belatedly realized that this man was her superior and deserved her respect. Besides, he was much more than her boss. Over the years, she had reluctantly opened up a small portion of her heart to him.

“Productive.” She laid it out for him as concisely as she could. She was just fresh from an undercover stint that had taken five months to wrap up instead of the three she had estimated. Someone had been cutting open homeless people and performing unauthorized surgery on them.

The two sick bastards were brothers – one a disgraced medical doctor and the other just a freaking moron with an axe to grind. They both had the idea to rid the city of the ‘scum’ of the earth and harvest organs for the purpose of selling them.

“You were injured in the line.”

She shrugged it off, reluctant to get into it. “One of them had a knife. Tried to slice me open but was not quite successful.” She grinned fiercely. “He is now nursing injuries to his precious jewels and strapped down in bed with restraints on. The other brother is more practical. He is spilling his guts.”

Commander Williams gave her a steady look and knew she was downplaying her injuries.

“Go home Sullivan. You are off for the week.”

“I want to finish up the paperwork and I have some cases…”

“That was not a request. Take the week and regroup. There must be some personal things needing your attention.”

She struggled not to let him see the resentment. She had wrapped the case, but work was her justification for living. Without it, she was usually at loose ends with no idea what to do with herself. She was not in the least domestic. Her apartment was nice enough, but just somewhere she slept – sometimes.

Several nights she would just crash here at the precinct when she had worked herself to the bone. A week free was going to leave her with nothing to focus on and that was not good. She hated having nothing to do.

“Sir, with respect, I would prefer to spend the time…”

“No.” his face hardened. “You have been out for five months. The case was a dangerous one and you were injured. We have protocols in place for a reason. Take the week, go to a spa…,” he almost grinned at the look of horror on her lovely face. Even though she constantly tried to downplay her looks, it was undeniably there.

Her complexion was a flawless cocoa brown, and her lips were wide and full, giving her a sultry look that was not contrived and had men coming onto her at every turn. She had taken the time to clean up and was wearing faded denims and an old washed-out flannel shirt, which had seen better days.

She had taken out the braids she had worn for this undercover stint and her natural hair was brushed severely into a coil at the nape of her neck. Mahogany brown eyes were large and widely spaced with sooty lashes making shadows on her cheeks.

She was long and lean and solid with defined muscles. “Or just stay home and do nothing.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You are going to have to learn. Finish your report and get the hell out of here.”

He watched as she uncoiled herself from the chair, face carefully bland. “Sir.”

“Detective?” His voice stopped her at the door. “Good work.”

A nod was her only acknowledgement, but he suspected that she was steaming and not pleased with his order. Tough, he thought wryly as he pulled the folder towards him. Margo Sullivan was one of his best, but she was also the worst when it came to taking personal time.

Last year this time, he had to threaten to suspend her if she did not take some holiday days. She had gone down with the bug that was going around and instead of staying home, had crawled in, looking like death. And she had refused to go to the doctor’s. He had personally driven her there and sat until she was seen to.

Getting her to take the prescribed meds had been another warfare. The woman was a pain in the ass, but a damn fine cop. She carried the weight of the underdog and the helpless and oppressed with her, which made her exceptionally good at her job.

Shaking his head, he realized he was going to have to see for himself that she left the building before end of shift.

*****

“Don’t talk to me.”

“He asked and I could not lie!” Detective Michaelson wedged his foot inside the door before she could slam it in his face.

“I have work. Get the hell out.”

“Come on, Sullivan.” Instead of doing what he was told, he sat on her ratty chair and crossed his legs at the ankles. “You just finished a major bust. You should be out celebrating.

Getting laid…,” he grinned when she glared at him as she went to get coffee from her pot. “How about offering me…,” he held up a hand as she simply went back to her desk and gave him a cool look.

“Okay, fine. I am just looking out for you.”

“Who asked you to?”

“You sustained serious injuries…”

“I’m still standing, aren’t I?” She grouched but felt the heat cooling. She could not stay angry with him. Brad Michaelson was a friend, and she knew he genuinely cared about her. At one point - early in their careers, they had hooked up, but she decided that it was better to keep things platonic, much to his disappointment. “What do you want?”

He grinned, picking up on her change of mood.

“Just wanted to offer my personal congrats and invite you out for beer later. Just the two of us…,” he held up a hand when she started to decline. “I have something I want to discuss with you.”

She eyed him over the rim of her cup. “It better not be a ploy to get into my pants.”

“As if I could,” he murmured lightly. “I happen to have my pride, and you’ve turned me down enough times for it to take a beating.”

“Okay. Get lost so I can finish up my paperwork. We both know that the commander is going to present himself inside my office an hour from now to make sure I am gone.” The resentment was back and made Michael grin.

“You know, Sullivan. You are the only cop I know who does not like to take personal time. The rest of us humans cannot wait to get out of here and hunker down over a beer and watch the games.”

“Crime never takes a day off.”

He rose lithely, passing a hand over his well-cut slate gray jacket. His light blue eyes twinkled as he stared at her. She was fifty-two years old and looked twenty years younger. Her thick dark hair had threads of gray running through the strands and she never once thought of getting rid of them.

Her face was unlined, her complexion flawless and smooth. He knew from the brief fling they had and the fact that they usually paired up in the boxing ring, that she was tough and competitive and not an easy mark. Quite a few felons had learned that the hard way.

“We should use that as a slogan.”

“Bite me.”

“I would, but I’m afraid of getting my teeth kicked in. See you at seven.”

Kicking back in her worn leather chair, she raised her feet and crossed them on the desk, her coffee cup cradled in her hands. She would never admit it, but the knife had sliced her left arm and was hurting like a son of a bitch.

She had not required stitches, thankfully and the doctor had slapped ointment on it after cleaning the wound, but it was still throbbing like an aching tooth, which was pissing her off all over again.

She had dropped her guard for a second and that had given the sick son of a bitch to get close. Shaking her head, she finished the coffee and put away the cup. She would finish up and get out of here, before the commander came looking for her.

What she was going to do with the rest of the time, was beyond her.

*****

Merrick settled back in the soft body molding leather chair and trained his intense gray eyes on the man seated across from him. His desk was an impressive redwood with carved legs and etchings and had been especially designed for him by a carpenter who he was friends with.

The stunning view at his back was that of the town, with its spears of buildings and the backdrop of a summer blue sky fading into fall. Everything about the man was impressive and intimidating.

The fifty-five-year-old had worked tirelessly to bring his company to what it was now. A giant in the pharmaceutical world with diversified holdings including real estate, oil wells and a successful airline.

His face was lean and attractive, the pain and tragedy from his past giving it a haunting quality. His eyes were sharp and gave one the impression that he could see clearly through and into the soul. Thick black hair was heavily threaded through with gray.

His body was lean and muscular. He had shed his navy-blue jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his baby blue cotton shirt to his powerful forearms. He had also dispensed of his tie and unbuttoned the two top buttons to reveal a strong column of tanned throat.

When he was not chained to his desk or travelling for work, he was often at his private gym or working out at his club. He was trained in the art of Krav Maga and kickboxing.

His years in the service of the marines had honed his skills and given him much needed discipline. In business he was a shark with powerful reach, and nothing escaped him. But he had a weakness. When it came to family, he could not see beyond the surface.

“I will talk to him.” Maurice Pendergast was the younger brother by ten years but lacked his brother’s strength and character. Merrick had put him in a position of authority despite warnings from his board and the top management of the company. The man was steady but lacked any sort of initiative.

“No!” Merrick shook his head decisively. “I will talk to him.” He trained those intense gray eyes on his brother. “You cannot keep making excuses for him. Jason is a grown ass man who needs to take responsibilities for his actions. He keeps messing up.” Tamping down the anger and frustration, he firmed his lips.

“I did not work tirelessly to take this company to where it is for my nephew to tear it down. He has been absent from work for the past three days and messed up a negotiation of vital importance to the company. The board is recommending that we fire him, and I am inclined to agree and give into their demand.”

Maurice’s eyes, a shade lighter than his brother’s and without the intense light, opened wide. “You cannot do that. It would destroy him.”

Merrick made an impatient gesture with one hand. “I don’t want to go to that extreme, but he is forcing my hand. Michael is doing so well, and I do not like comparing the two brothers, but Jason comes up severely lacking. What the hell is going on with him?”

His brother, Maurice, hung his head in defeat. “We’re having problems at home.”

Merrick sent him a narrowed eye look. “So?”

“Janey and I have been fighting constantly.” His chin wobbled as he lifted his head to look at his brother. He had often envied the man, his tenacity and ability to make money at the drop of a hat. Merrick was the oldest, so he had inherited the company and turned it into a multi-billion dollar one.

He was also the better looking, the stronger and the one that was not afraid of anything. He was also the one that his wife had wanted and that was a constant source of unrest and argument between them.

“Jason takes it to heart.”

“What is it this time?”

“She wants a bigger house.”

Merrick’s thick brows shot up and cynical amusement curved his lips. “Let me guess - a friend of hers has just moved into a mansion and she is dissatisfied with the current living arrangement. You are living in the manor that has been in the family for decades.

I obligingly moved out years ago when you got engaged. The place has eight bedrooms in total and has been redecorated how many times in the last few years?”

“Five.” His brother held up a hand to show the amount of fingers, a bitter expression on his face.

His face hardened fractionally as he leaned forward. “That is going to stop. I approved the redecorating the last couple of times, but I am drawing a line in the sand. If you cannot control your own wife, that leaves me to do something about it.”

Maurice tamped down his resentment at the autocratic tone. “You’re not married, so you wouldn’t know what…,” his voice tailed off at the closed look on his brother’s face and he could have bitten off his tongue. “Mer, I am, sorry as hell. I don’t know…”

“Forget it.” He waved a hand in dismissal. “I am calling a family meeting to set everyone straight. The company cannot keep footing the bill for some trivial and frivolous spending that has been going on. And Jason gets one more chance to prove himself.

Am I clear?” His tone brooked no argument and had Maurice rising and straightening his jacket. He had a management position and a big office, half the size of his brother’s office of course, but everyone in the company knew that he lacked the necessary authority and his brother’s word was law.

He was getting tired of playing second fiddle to the man.

“Of course.” He forced a smile. “Whatever you say.”

“That is right. And I will be reiterating that aspect of it at the meeting,” he waved a dismissive hand. “I have a conference meeting in two minutes.”

Maurice slipped from the office and gave a cordial nod to the dragon of an assistant who guarded his brother’s office with such fierceness, no one would deign to just walk in, not even family. The woman looked like a dried-up old prune and behaved as if she was royalty.

“Thanks for fitting me in,” he tried to butter up the old hag but got a cool nod for his effort.

“Mr. Merrick is a terribly busy man, and you just took up his valuable time. I suggest you think of that when you consider just dropping by unannounced.”

The tone, the brittle professional lofty voice had anger coursing through his veins, and he wanted to tell the woman to go to hell and remind her that his name was Pendergast. But Olive Manners was more respected than anyone in the company and earned a goddamn executive salary.

She was also totally ‘unfireable’. His brother had once told him that she was more loyal than anyone he knew, and he had no idea what the hell he would do without her.

The woman wielded power and she damn well knew it. No wonder she behaved as if the place belonged to her. Without saying another word, he turned on his heels and left the office that was bigger than his. Another thing to contend with.

“Cancel my 2.00 pm.” He said without looking up from the contract he was perusing. “I have decided to take Jackson up on his offer to take a look at the gallery.

And call Mendez and let him know that the work on the Inns Wood apartments is lackluster at best. I need something different.” He continued to reel off more instructions in his own precise and rapid-fire manner, knowing that she would have everything done in the way he preferred..

Making a notation in the corner of the legal document, he finally put it aside and concentrated on the woman seated on one of the cushioned chairs with her knees demurely pressed together and her ever present iPad in her hands.

Olive Manners was in her sixties, with her snowy white hair combed back from her head in a perfect and neat bun, with not a hair out of place. Her glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose, and she looked exactly as she was – completely efficient and a professional in every bone of her body. And she was infallibly faithful and loyal.

She had been with him for the last thirty years and even when she lost her husband ten years ago, still managed to come in and see to it that things were running smoothly. Merrick had no idea what the hell he would have done without her. It was sad to note that she was more valuable to him than his own brother. And more loyal and committed.

Her salary was considerable, but he could not buy that kind of loyalty and could only repay it by any means he could. She kept odd hours because he did, and never once complained about her workload. He could leave everything in her more than capable hands with the assurance that it would get done.

He did not have to worry about hurting her feelings. He never celebrated birthdays and had been precise about that. She never delved into his personal life and most of all, she had never looked at him with the idea or thought of landing in his bed.

A few support staff had tried that and received strong reprimands. He was not into hunting in his own pool. Besides, after what happened in his past, he was not looking for anything permanent. He had a sort of arrangement with a woman who understood that there was nothing going on but the physical and he was fine with that.

“I would like a meeting with Calvin.”

She made a few notations on her device. “You have an opening in a very tight schedule for end of business day.”

He nodded. “That’s fine with me.” Picking up a gold tipped pen, he slid it between his fingers. “Jason has become a problem.” He knew he could say that to her without fear of his views leaving the room. And he valued her opinion. She also had the uncanny ability to know what’s going on in the entire building.

“He is a lazy young man and an entitled one. His father makes excuses for him which makes it even worse.”

She was not being judgmental but simply stating a fact. He respected honesty.

And because he did, he nodded. “I intend to straighten him out. Once and for all. No more excuses.”

Olive nodded and jotted down a few more notes. “He needs to have an eye kept on him!”

“Precisely. Now back to the contract.”