Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Ace glanced down at the EVE visitor emblem stamped across his badge, the dark red letters catching the overhead light, and shook his head.
He tugged once on the lanyard to make sure it was secure around his neck.
The drive out to the facility had been decent, but seeing all those antennae across the fields was just as freaky as ever.
The waiting room hummed with a low electrical buzz, while steel beams cut hard lines across the ceiling. The metal reception desk sat dead center, cold and unwelcoming. Two armed guards occupied the space behind it, silent and watchful, their expressions hard.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and Damian walked out.
As usual, he looked perfectly at home in this world.
He wore an expensive black suit, tailored to fit his tall body, paired with a crisp white shirt open at the collar.
No tie today. His stride was smooth and controlled. “Hey, let’s go up to my office.”
“Sure thing,” Ace said immediately, already stepping in behind him.
They rode up in silence. The elevator climbed with a steady mechanical whir, the air tight and faintly metallic. Ace kept his gaze forward. Damian didn’t fidget. He never did. When the doors opened, Damian led him through a small waiting area and toward the office tucked into the back corner.
“Sorry I had to ask you to come all the way out here,” Damian said as he moved inside his office. “I’m in the middle of five different things and didn’t have time to come into town.”
“Not a problem. I don’t mind the drive out to EVE.” Ace scanned the space to see glass, steel, and organized precision. “I’d love to look through this whole place.”
Damian chuckled, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Yeah. So would I. Believe it or not, there are two floors I don’t have access to.”
Ace’s attention snapped back to him. That wasn’t nothing. “Is that really why you took this job?”
Damian’s green eyes were assessing and impossible to read. “Of course not. I’m here to provide security.”
Yeah, right. Ace might not know a lot of things sometimes, but he knew his brother.
That wasn’t it. Not even close. Something else lived under Damian’s calm tone, something tight and coiled.
“If you say so.” For now, anyway. Ace walked toward the wide window.
Knife’s Edge Mountain rose in the distance, its peaks stunning in the summer light, still tipped with white.
The view was breathtaking. “I like your office. It suits you.”
“I’m comfortable here.” Damian gestured toward a black leather sofa. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.” Ace sat, rolling his neck once, tension cracking softly along his spine.
The door opened without warning. A woman hustled inside, brisk and efficient, who appeared to be in her early sixties.
Cat’s-eye glasses framed her blue eyes, and her hair was pulled tight into a bun, while the green suit she wore was immaculate with the skirt falling to beneath her knees.
Her shoes sparkled with green sequins and high heels at total odds with the rest of her outfit.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you come in, Mr. Osprey,” she said.
“Would either of you like water, tea, coffee, or anything else?”
Damian glanced at Ace.
“No thanks. I’m good,” Ace said.
“Thank you, Elisa, but we’re fine,” Damian added.
Elisa nodded and her lips thinned before she turned and disappeared.
Ace watched the door close, then shifted his gaze back to his brother, a faint amusement stirring in him. “I get the feeling she doesn’t like you.”
Damian shook his head, his thick hair curling behind his ears as he exhaled. “I know. She’s been my secretary for months and is still pissed her former boss had to retire. I think she was in love with him.”
“But you’re such a charmer.”
“That’s what they say,” Damian drawled.
Ace settled deeper into the sofa. “Speaking of which, any luck finding your wife?”
Damian’s nostrils flared with a rare show of irritation. “No. She wouldn’t have come to town in the spring if she didn’t want something. She’ll show up again, no doubt.”
That had to be driving the man crazy. Ace looked around again. The office carried a quiet, high-level tension with glass surfaces and steel edges. “Why did you ask me to drive out here today?”
Damian reached for a stack of file folders resting on the glass table between them. The movement was smooth and controlled. Like Damian himself. “I did some research on your doctor and Kyle Mercer.”
Ace leaned forward as the folder changed hands. Paper whispered against paper. “Did you find the domestic violence issue from Mercer’s college days?”
“I did.” Damian’s tone flattened. “The reason it never went anywhere is the accuser died.”
Ace froze, fingers tightening on the folder. “She died?”
“Yeah. Car accident.” Damian gave a small shrug. “It looks legit from the file. Everything’s in there.”
Ace flipped the folder open, his pulse kicking harder. “What were the allegations?”
“He was in college and she was a waitress from the college town.” Damian’s gaze stayed steady. “They apparently got into an altercation one night at a bar. Police were called.”
“What about her injuries?”
Damian tapped a finger once on the table. “I couldn’t find much. It looks more like an allegation without a lot of physical evidence. The woman died three days later. The accident report’s in there.”
Ace scanned the pages, a cold awareness settling inside him. The air in the room felt heavier now, pressing against his ribs. “You think it’s legit?”
“I don’t know.” Damian checked his watch. “I don’t see anything in Mercer’s past suggesting he could have someone taken out. However, his father’s a hedge fund manager at Red Mot Holdings out of New York. We’re talking serious money. So, it’s possible.”
Ace closed the folder halfway, his mind racing. “Did you find anything else?”
“Yes.” Damian gestured toward the file. “Two other domestic violence calls after college. Different women. Both still alive. Cases didn’t go anywhere. First one, the woman wouldn’t testify. Second one, same thing. Prosecutor tried to move forward anyway, then it was dropped.”
“Was this before or after he became a senator?”
“The second one was after. But timeline-wise, it was before he dated May. If you go further in the file, there are pictures of them together at different events in D.C.” Damian smoothed his perfectly pressed pants. His expression shifted subtly. “They don’t fit. They don’t look right together.”
Ace slid out a photo from the folder to see May in a sparkling silver gown at a fancy celebration with champagne and chandeliers. “The doc looks stunning.” He studied the image, uneasiness sliding under his skin. “She doesn’t look like she belongs in Knife’s Edge.”
“She’s gorgeous.” Damian pulled a lighter gray file from beneath a notepad and tossed it across the table. “I have a background on her too.”
Ace caught it but didn’t open it. His eyes lifted slowly. “You ran May.”
“Of course I ran May.”
“What’d you find?”
Damian’s gaze drifted briefly toward the window.
“Not much. She grew up in a small town in Maine, which is probably why she likes Alaska. Parents, both deceased. No siblings. She worked her way through college and medical school while picking up scholarships. She doesn’t have much of a dating profile, but I imagine she was busy working two jobs and going to school.
The pictures with Mercer are the first real public ones. ”
Ace listened without opening the file yet. Hearing it out loud made it feel different. The office stayed quiet except for the faint rush of air from the vents.
“I did find two small newspaper articles,” Damian added. “She won awards for wildlife photography in high school. There’s another from between college and medical school.”
That tracked. She loved taking photographs. “You have pictures of her early work?”
“Yeah. Bottom of the file.”
Ace flipped straight to the back, skipping the personal notes.
He didn’t want to read those. Not about May.
He’d rather hear it from her, in her own words, in her own time.
Paper slid beneath his fingers. “These are as good as her recent ones.” The first photograph showed two white-tailed deer caught mid-step.
The next featured a great blue heron lifting into flight, its wings wide, and water scattering beneath it.
“Yep. She won first place at the county fair,” Damian noted.
“That’s kind of cool.” Ace found her truly likeable. “She gives her photographs to everyone in town. Should charge for them.” His gaze lingered on the heron. Something stirred unexpectedly inside him. He could fly her to some incredible places in Alaska—
He jerked his head up. Whoa. The thought of flying with her hit him hard enough to tighten his chest.
“What was that?” Damian watched him closely.
“Thought about flying again.” Ace didn’t hesitate. He never lied to his brothers.
Damian’s expression didn’t change. “Yeah. I heard you tried to go see Smitty.”
So much for privacy. “Brock is such a gossip.”
“It’s not gossip. He was thrilled about it.” Damian said. “We all are.”
Tension crawled along Ace’s shoulders. “I don’t know why.”
Damian studied him for a long moment. “You want to tell me about it?”
Ace cocked his head as his defensive reflexes kicked in. “Can’t you just pull my military file if you want?”
Damian pressed his fingertips together, forming a small pyramid with his large hands. The gesture was thoughtful and deliberate. “Probably. I’ve chosen not to.”
Ace blinked.
“I don’t want to infringe on your privacy,” Damian said quietly. “If I need to know something, I figure you’ll tell me.”