Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
SUMMER
I’d never been to the Sinclair Security offices before. Never had a reason to. Evers had covered for me with Cynthia, telling her we both had to leave for a meeting while I ran to my room to clean up.
I have no idea what he said to her, but she told me to go with a knowing smile and a wink. I should have been embarrassed, but I was too happy.
Walking in to see Cynthia's mouth on Evers, her arms around his neck, had been worse than a stab to the heart. It had been agony.
Had I told myself I was over him?
I was a liar.
I was never going to get over Evers.
For the first time, it looked like I wouldn't have to.
He was in love with me?
He said he was in love with me.
In a million years I never saw that coming. Liked me, sure. Wanted to fuck me… that seemed pretty obvious. But love? Evers didn't do love.
I wanted to believe him.
I did believe him. Mostly.
I should have told him how I felt. I wanted to. I’d opened my mouth to say the words, but nothing came out.
Later. I'd think about it later. The problems swirling around us were bigger than what was happening between Evers and me.
Cooper hadn’t just told Evers he needed him in the office, he’d insisted Evers bring me. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but it couldn’t be good.
It was only a short drive to the Sinclair Security offices in Buckhead, a four-story, sleekly-modern office building discreetly placed behind a mixed-use residential complex.
It had the benefit of an ideal location without sitting right on the street. The garage appeared locked up tight until Evers' car slowed at the gate. There must have been some kind of scanner that recognized us because the metal door slid smoothly up just long enough to admit his SUV.
Everything inside the building was stainless and black, splashes of red the only color. It was a little dark and forbidding for my taste, but if they were trying to give off the impression of indomitable strength, they'd nailed it.
Evers’ palm print and voice called the elevator that carried us to the main offices.
I followed him into the reception area to see a vibrant bouquet of red lilies on the front desk beside a petite dark-haired woman with fifties-style cat’s eye reading glasses, a short bob and blunt cut bangs.
A wide smile stretched across her mouth.
"Good to see you, Boss. You'd better get back to Cooper's office. I don't know what's up, but he's in a mood."
Her eyes landed on my hand in Evers’, but she didn’t say a word, only winked at me and waved us down the hall.
“Thanks, Alice. Summer, this is Alice. Alice, Summer.” Evers never stopped moving. I waved at Alice as I tried to keep up.
Evers pulled me down a wide hallway lined with black doors, all closed. At the end of the hall we turned right, then left, and ended up in an open conference room with a long, black lacquered table, shiny chrome and black leather chairs, and a wall of windows that looked out to the courtyard below.
Cooper Sinclair sat at the head of the table, his ice blue eyes heavy—annoyed when they rested on Evers but softer when they landed on me.
Griffen was at his right. At his left was Axel, Evers' brother and my best friend Emma's husband.
Axel rose from his seat and came around the table to pull me into a hug.
"Summer, it’s good to see you. Emma isn't happy she couldn't make it out this time."
"Work?" I asked. The last time I’d talked to her she hadn't said that Axel was coming, much less why she wasn't joining him.
"Some. Mostly that I don't want her here until we figure out what's going on. Looks like that was a good call."
At my questioning look, he shook his head, then dropped his eyes to my fingers twined with Evers’. He looked back up to take in Evers’ stance beside me, too close, too intimate, for a friend or coworker.
In a low voice, Axel said, “You okay?"
I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at. In some ways, I was very okay. In others, like the whole situation with my dad, not so much.
"Okay with…”
Axel spared a glance for his brother, standing beside me. Evers dropped my hand and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into his side in a claiming gesture that was unmistakable.
Axel gave him a look I couldn't read and said, “With this goon here. Do I need to kill him? You're Emma's best friend, which makes you an honorary sister, and I’m bound by law to kill this asshole if he didn't fix things with you."
Evers grunted in the back of his throat, tightening his arm around my shoulder, and I laughed.
"He groveled appropriately," I said.
Exactly what happened wasn't Axel's business, but it was sweet of him to look out for me. Or maybe it just said something about how much he loved my best friend.
"That's good," Axel said. "He can be an idiot, but you could do a lot worse. You could probably do a lot better, too, but you could do worse."
I laughed again as Evers’ left arm shot out, and he punched Axel in the shoulder hard enough to force his older brother back a few steps.
From across the room, Cooper bellowed, “For fuck's sake, no fighting in the office. Sit your asses down."
We were taking our seats when Alice popped her head into the room, shooting a concerned look at Cooper before she flashed a bright smile and asked, “Coffee? Tea?"
"I'd love coffee," Evers said.
"I would, too, if it's no trouble," I added.
"No trouble at all. Be right back. Axel, Knox, Griffen? The usual?" The three of them grunted, nodded, and gave a hand gesture respectively, affirming that they wanted whatever the usual was. Alice disappeared, leaving us alone.
"So, what happened?” Griffen said.
"You don't know?" Evers asked, “You've been here all morning."
"Cooper wouldn't say—"
"I wanted to wait until we were all together.
The phones have been busy today. I got this message an hour ago, direct to my private line.
I was in a client meeting, so it went to voicemail.
" Cooper picked up the phone in the middle of the table, hit a few buttons to access his voicemail and sat back as the message played.
"Cooper Sinclair. Your father has something of mine," a man's voice said in an accent I couldn't place. Something Eastern European, maybe. Whatever it was, it sounded exactly like the client I'd turned down a few weeks before.
A chill ran down my spine as he continued.
“Maxwell has been missing for three months. I will wait no longer. Find what your father stole or your mother will die. When I’m done with her, I’ll come after each one of his sons until every Sinclair is dead.
No one steals from a Tsepov. Return what Maxwell stole and you will live. If you do not, I will end your line."
The call cut off. Axel sat back in his chair, shaking his head. "Fucking Russians. So melodramatic. I will end your line,” he said, imitating the caller. “Tsepov, Jr. is a pain in the ass. Too much ego, not enough brains. I almost wish Emma hadn't killed his uncle."
"This hit my email at the same time as the call." Cooper tossed a photograph down the middle of the table. It slid, floating on the air before it came to a stop dead center. I looked at it, but I didn't get it.
It showed the front of an apartment building that looked like it was near the beach. Just a building. Nothing else. I knew I was missing something because Evers, Knox, and Axel went still.
Griffen said, “That's your mom's condo, isn't it?”
Cooper affirmed, “It is. There are more, pictures from inside. He's telling us that he knows where she is, and he can get inside her place."
Knox pushed his seat back from the table in a startling burst of motion. He said nothing but paced to the wall of windows and stared into the courtyard, one hand gripping the back of his neck, knuckles flexing until they were white.
Axel, his eyes locked on the picture, said, "I'll go down to Florida. Stay with Mom."
"What about Emma?" Cooper asked. "She'll want to know—"
"I don't want her in Florida if these guys are crawling around. I sure as hell don't want her here. I trust my guys in Vegas. She's got someone on her twenty-four seven. She's close to her family. She'll understand me looking out for my mom." Axel looked at me, one eyebrow raised, and I nodded.
"She will absolutely understand you looking after your mom."
“We don’t have a timeline," Evers said. "He wants us to return whatever Dad stole from him or he'll kill us all, but he doesn't say how long we have or what it is we're looking for."
"Sloppy," Cooper commented. “We already had a clue Dad wasn't in his car when it went over the bridge.
LeAnne Gates told Chase that Dad had been sending her checks until recently.
Hard to sign a check when you're dead. The shell corporation making the payments has been filing its annual reports and taxes right on schedule.
Someone's got to be coordinating all that. Dad makes more sense than anyone."
"I'm going to fucking wring his neck when we find him," Knox muttered, still staring into the courtyard.
"You'll have to get in line," Evers said quietly.
I reached out to take his hand. My dad wasn't that great a father. He was self-centered and neglectful, but at least he hadn't faked his death and left me and my mom in danger. Maxwell Sinclair had a lot to answer for.
Alice eased the door open and set a tray on the table. Correctly reading the room, she passed out drinks in silence and left as unobtrusively as she’d entered.
"We don't have a lot of leads to follow," Cooper said. "We've been looking for Dad since LeAnne Gates confirmed he might be alive. So far, I've got nothing. Dad was a lot of things, but stupid isn't one of them. He knew how to hide."
"The only halfway decent clue we have is Summer's father," Axel said
“My father? How is my father a clue?"
"Because we know he was getting money from our dad," Evers explained, "and we know those payments have continued. We also know that something happened recently to send your dad underground. Based on the timing, I'm betting it was our father taking off with whatever belonged to Tsepov.”
"Fucking moron," Knox muttered. He shot a look at Cooper and said, “In most ways you're right. Dad was not dumb. But sometimes he had a dangerous blind spot. Women and money always fucked him up."
None of Knox's brothers argued.
“You think my dad knows where your dad is? Knows what he took and where to find it?"
"It's possible he doesn't," Cooper said, "but right now, Smokey Winters is all we have to go on. As far as I can tell, he was living near Asheville, moving between there and Greenville along I-85."
Everyone else in the room had a knowing expression that told me the information meant more to them than just my dad's driving habits. I sent Evers a questioning look. He pinched the bridge of his nose before saying quietly, “Probably running drugs from Atlanta into the mountains."
"He was dealing drugs?" I asked, wishing I were more surprised.
"Maybe. If not dealing, transporting."
I felt a little sick. I knew my father came back to Atlanta fairly often—though I hadn't known he had a place here—but I'd never wondered why.
Maybe I should have. Something Cooper had said stuck in my head. They didn't know where he'd been. But I knew where he'd been, didn’t I? And I'd completely forgotten.