CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Byron
I hadn’t been in Virginia that long, but it felt like an eternity. Things weren’t going as I’d planned.
My dad and I were walking the training course he’d designed and had made to train our security agents.
He’d based it off courses he knew well as both ex-FBI and a former Army Ranger.
It had long been a dream of his to make the security firm he’d started out of a small office in DC into a nationally recognized name in highly specialized security. He’d more than succeeded.
Now, our agents, the agents Dad had trained, provided security details for ex-politicians, television and film stars, music artists, sports figures, and ultra wealthy businessmen and women.
Former federal and state level judges had begun using our services after some unfortunate incidents had shown just how vulnerable they could be, too.
St. James Security had field offices in several US states as well as Canada. It was growing rapidly.
And he wanted me to head up the entire operation from Virginia. But I had another plan.
“Dad, I have a proposition for you.”
He cocked an eyebrow and looked at me warily. “What is it?”
It was a chilly, damp day, and I wanted us to be seated in his comfortable study, in front of the fire with a glass of whiskey in our hands. I told him as much.
He sighed. “Why did I know you were going to give me push back on this?”
“Wait before you get upset. Give me a chance to talk to you first.”
“Fine,” he grumbled.
We both waved at Marschall Levine as he put a group of recruits through the paces on the course. He was the training director, and he was damn good at it. He’d been the guy who’d trained me years ago, and I felt prepared for anything.
Once we were inside and situated, I waited for him to indicate he was ready to hear me out. I knew my dad well, and I wanted to give my plan the best possible chance of working.
“Okay, son. Talk to me,” he said after he’d had a couple of sips of his drink.
“Would you agree that Marschall Levine is the best training director we’ll ever have?”
He frowned. “Of course.”
“And what about Sara Beth Lakes? She’s an incredible educator in the training academy, correct?”
“Yes. What are you getting at?”
“Dad, once you retire, I don’t think Virginia should be the headquarters of St. James Security.”
He raised his eyebrows, which was basically the equivalent of anyone else saying, “What the fuck?”
“Virginia should be the training center only. You and Sara Beth could teach some classes and hire a few more people to teach others. Marschall could hire some help as well. This would become like Quantico is to the FBI.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“As you know, the headquarters of the FBI is in DC, not Quantico. St. James Security could follow their lead.”
“You’re moving to DC?”
Shit. “No. No, I want the headquarters to be in West Bay. I could find the perfect property with enough land for a smaller training course to have agents pass their quarterly fitness reviews. I also want to increase the size of the field office in Atlanta.”
Dad’s eyes widened. “What the hell?”
My dad never cursed. Ever. This was a very bad sign.
“Dad, the woman I love lives in West Bay. All my friends are in West Bay. I love it there. And Georgia, especially Atlanta, is a hub for people who need our services. There’s so much talent there, from multiple industries. Film, music, sports, politics, TV stars…”
Dad just stared at me blankly. I was starting to sweat. This was really not going well at all.
Then it got worse.
The doors to the study burst open, startling Dad and I so badly we both almost dropped our whiskey. Reynolds and Nadine came hurrying inside.
“What the hell?” my dad said again. “Reynolds? What are you doing here?”
My dad had never liked Reynolds, but I’d always lied to my best friend about that little fact.
Reynolds gave me a look, letting me know he had caught on. I knew he’d always suspected it. Now he knew it was true. Dad was not in the mood to hide his true feelings. I shrugged.
Nobody could hate Nadine, though.
My dad stood and strode over to her, giving her a hug. “Nadine. It’s always a pleasure.”
He’d literally met her once. At their wedding. He’d known Reynolds since he was ten years old.
“Hey, Mr. St. James.”
“Honey, call me Marcus.”
Reynolds stuck out his hand and Dad shook it. “Good to see you, Marcus.”
Dad frowned. “Mr. St. James is fine for you, son.”
Nadine looked like she desperately wanted to laugh, but she held it in.
“What are y’all doing here?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“We’re coming to tell you that you’re making a terrible mistake,” Reynolds burst out.
“We can’t lose you in West Bay, man. It won’t be the same without you.
” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Hell. I won’t be the same without you.
You’re the closest thing I have to family.
Besides Nadine,” he said quickly, anticipating her reaction.
“Well, you’re in luck,” Dad said drily. “He just told me he’s staying in West Bay and moving the headquarters of St. James Security there. He wants to marry Carmen Salazar, so I guess I understand.”
“Carmen?” Nadine looked deflated and collapsed in a chair. Then she forced a smile. “That’s great, Byron.”
“I’m not marrying Carmen,” I said. “I’m in love with Jess,” I said.
“Who the hell is Jess?” Dad had dropped three curse words now. I was afraid for his blood pressure.
“My sister,” Nadine jumped out of her chair and launched herself at me.
I laughed, catching her in my arms.
“This is the best news ever,” she cried.
“You have a sister?” Dad asked Nadine.
“I do. She’s my half-sister, and her name is Jessica Fletcher Walker.”
“Jessica Fletcher?” My mom walked in, and I wondered how much she’d heard. “Like the character on…”
“Murder She Wrote,” Nadine finished proudly. “She was held captive by a motorcycle club in Shitty Wilkins for years until Byron rescued her.”
“Motorcycle club?” Mom asked, literally clutching her pearls and collapsing in the nearest chair. “Shitty Wilkins? Is that the real name of a town?”
Nadine laughed. “No, it’s just the worst town in the world, so that’s what everyone from my town calls it.
To be honest, they beat us at everything—all the sports, they got the county courthouse and all of the municipal buildings.
It’s a rivalry thing. But it has spread.
A lot of people in Wilkins call it Shitty Wilkins now.
” She got a slight frown on her face. “But they seem to think it’s kind of an honor. ”
“I’m a bit confused,” Dad admitted, tossing back his whiskey and pouring some more.
“Why don’t we talk some more over dinner?” Mom asked. “It will be served in about an hour. That will give you kids time to talk for a bit.”
I loved that she still called us kids. Reynolds and I were solidly in our thirties. Nadine was in her mid-twenties, but that’s still not exactly ‘a kid.’
We left my parents in the study, and I motioned for Reynolds and Nadine to follow me out to the training course. I knew Reynolds would like to see it. I wasn’t as sure about Nadine, but I figured she didn’t want to hang with my parents in their study.
Instead of walking, because I noticed Nadine’s heels, I opted for one of the rugged ATVs my dad had in a large garage. We drove around the course, and I explained some of the process for an agent to graduate the program and get an official certification as a St. James Security field agent.
“This is amazing,” Nadine said, staring at a few trainees working with Marschall on the course.
When we approached a climbing wall, she asked me to stop. I did what she said even though I wasn’t sure what she wanted. Then, when she kicked off her heels and hiked up her dress, I had a clue.
She bounded from the ATV, before Reynolds could grab her.
“Nadine, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I called walking after her. She was running, presumably to keep Reynolds from stopping her from doing the course.
He was out of the ATV and watching her while shaking his head. “If she wants to do it, we’re not going to be able to stop her without physically restraining her,” he called out. “She’s stubborn.”
“I can hear you!” she called.
Marschall saw what was going on and jogged over. “Ma’am, I can’t allow you on the course. You haven’t been cleared, and there are safety protocols we have to follow…”
Nadine waved him off. “I’ll be fine. I’m athletic, you know.”
He looked at her doubtfully. Some of the trainees had jogged over to watch.
Reynolds walked up next to me and crossed his arms over his chest. “Wherever she goes, she attracts a crowd.”
I gave him a look. “Gee, I wonder why.”
The trainees’ eyes were firmly on Nadine’s physical assets.
Reynolds frowned.
“Ma’am, I really can’t allow this to happen,” Marschall said more firmly. He strode over to where she was just starting to mount the wall.
“Call me Nadine,” she yelled, as she started scaling the wall quickly to keep him from stopping her. In fact, she went so quickly that everyone gasped.
“Look at her go,” one trainee said in awe. He turned to me. “Is she starting the program?”
“No,” I said slowly, watching in disbelief. She was scaling the wall faster than most agents who’d already graduated the program. And she’d had zero training.
Marschall quit being upset and started being interested. He turned to Reynolds. “You her husband?”
Reynolds nodded.
“Is she former military?”
Reynolds laughed. “If you knew Nadine, I think you’d realize just how out of left field that question is.”
Marschall stared at him stone faced.
The smile faded from Reynolds’ face. “Um, what I mean is no. No, sir. She has never formally trained for anything except to be in good shape for beauty pageants.”
Marschall’s eyebrows raised.
“Got it!” Nadine sat on the top of the course after ringing the bell loudly. She had a huge smile on her face and didn’t seem to notice that everyone was staring at her legs.