Hotel Hideaway: (Soldiering On #4) Page 2

  Cameron narrowed his eyes. “Well, that doesn’t bode well for the rest of our staff then, does it?”

  Erica straightened her spine, as if gearing up for a fight. Cameron prepared himself for it, but instead she visibly wrested herself under control. It was unusual for her to be so obvious with her emotions—her mask was even better than his—which must mean something really ate at her.

  “I’ll find someone else to guard you,” she said instead.

  Cameron shook his head. “No thanks. I think I’ll hire outside the company.” Just in case his suspicions were correct.

  His mind flashed again to Sam, once more wishing she’d accepted his offer. Maybe if he found her and offered her an exorbitant salary, she could be lured away from her current job. He had to admit it wasn’t just her obvious talent for protection that drew him. It was her fearlessness in the face of danger, and the way she completely dismissed him even after saving his life. And, if he could admit to himself, it was the fact she was attractive despite her shapeless, genderless clothes. She was a puzzle he wanted to figure out.

  Erica worked her jaw. “That won’t be a good look if we hire outside talent,” she told him eventually.

  “Well, when it’s not my life on the line, you can do what you like.”

  She glared at him. He stared impassively back.

  She turned away with a shrug of studied casualness. “Well, hopefully it won’t last long. Your bad luck has to run out soon, right? A car accident and a mugging, what else can go wrong?”

  Cameron narrowed his eyes. Erica had never believed the car accident had been an attempt on his life. He couldn’t be sure, either, not until they caught the person that had done it. But he had suspected he’d been targeted. And, now, with this supposed-mugging, he was even more certain his life was in danger.

  “Don’t we have a meeting to get to?” he asked.

  She huffed out a breath. “Yes.” Her eyes took him in. “Where’s your tie?”

  “Around the wrists of the man that tried to kill me,” he answered.

  “Well, given we’re meeting with our shareholders and honoured guests for our upcoming event, don’t you think you had better find one?”

  He rolled his eyes where she couldn’t see and pulled a rolled tie from his desk drawer.

  “I’ll meet you there,” he told her, shucking his coat. He flicked his tie around his neck as she nodded and moved toward the door, talking over her shoulder as she went.

  “In the meantime, I’ll smooth the undoubtedly ruffled feathers in the conference room. Danny is keeping them company, but God knows what stories he’s telling to keep them entertained.”

  Danny was the second of three chairpersons of the company, and the only person that kept Erica in line. Cameron didn’t mind him, though he was a little too quiet with Cameron, which made him suspicious. Generally, he was considered quite the charmer. The third member of the trio he’d never actually met. As far as he knew, they were a silent partner, but he believed both Erica and Danny deferred to them on occasion—whoever they were.

  Erica paused on her way out the door and turned back to him. Cameron braced himself and schooled his face into an expression of polite inquiry.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” she muttered grudgingly. Cameron smiled at the ungracious comment.

  “Thank you,” was his only reply. But he couldn’t help wonder whether she really was glad at all.

  ◆◆◆

  “So, I hear you had a bit of an incident this morning?” Duncan, Sam’s boss, asked as she slid into his office. He was a tall African-American man in his late thirties, with a broad chest honed from years in the Army. Despite his honourable discharge a few years back, he still spent a lot of time in the gym.

  The familiar office held heavy, masculine furniture and a view of the parking structure behind the desk. Sam liked the unfussy space. Practical, like Duncan himself.

  “Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Sam replied with a shrug. She eased slowly into the chair across from him, bliss thrumming through her as she took pressure off her damaged calf.

  He smiled, amused by her response. “I wouldn’t assume anything else.” He paused. “You are okay, though?” At his sincere expression Sam’s heart warmed. She loved being a part of the Soldiering On team. They were like a family. And it allowed her and the other former military that had been discharged due to their injury to have a fulfilling career that used their training to help people. A perfect fit.

  Duncan co-owned the company with Mandy, the only one of them that wasn’t former military—she was all business. She and Duncan sniped at each other constantly, though Sam and the others suspected it was only unresolved sexual tension between them, and not any true animosity. However, since Christmas, they’d barely spoken to each other except in loaded glances, so perhaps she was wrong.

  “Yeah. I’m fine.” The events of that morning could have been a lot worse, but she didn’t mention that. Didn’t want Duncan to worry unnecessarily.

  Duncan blew out a relieved breath. Sam hid a grin at his reaction. Duncan had a soft heart but wasn’t the best at displaying or dealing with emotions.

  “What exactly happened? All I heard was you delivered a beatdown on two guys.”

  “Two guys followed a businessman and I got a bad feeling. They cornered him in an alley, seemed like he was targeted. Like they knew his route. So, I…intervened. They tried to play it off as a mugging, but there was no way.”

  “What made you think it wasn’t a mugging?”

  “They stalked the guy. And they both used Glocks.”

  Duncan’s brows rose. “An expensive gun for your average mugger. Did you tell your suspicion to the police?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she said. “But I don’t think they wanted to believe me. And the guy I saved didn’t back me up.”

  “He thought it was a mugging, too?” Duncan asked, surprised.

  Sam made a face. “I don’t know, I didn’t ask. But he was pretty tight-lipped with the cops.”

  Duncan leaned back in his chair. “That’s interesting.”

  “Sure. But it’s not my place to get involved.”

  “Aren’t you curious?”

  Sam shifted in her seat. She was curious. But not enough to want to see that Cameron guy again.

  “It’s not my place. Although…” she paused.

  “Although?” Duncan asked with a raised brow.

  “He did offer me a job, so you have some competition. Maybe now would be a good time for a pay rise.”

  Duncan barked out a surprised laugh. “Don’t push your luck.” He narrowed his eyes. “Who’s my competition? He have a name?”

  Sam dug the man’s business card from her pocket and flicked it at him. He caught it mid-air.

  “Cameron something. Cameron Lawrence, I think?”

  Duncan went unnaturally still. “Cameron Lawrence?”

  Sam’s heart immediately kicked into high gear, as if sensing a threat. She swallowed past the sudden lump of nerves in her throat. “I think so. Why?”

  Duncan slowly turned the business card over so he could read the man’s name. He stared at it for a long time, thoughts clearly leaping through his brain. She’d never seen Duncan like this, so focused and intent. It did nothing to diminish her fear.

  “Duncan?” she asked softly.

  He blinked, then slowly raised his gaze to her. “I want you to take the job.”

  Sam raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Are you…firing me?” she asked carefully.

  Duncan shook his head. “No, I’m asking you to go undercover.”

  Sam stared at him for a long moment. “I’m missing something,” she said eventually.

  Tension hummed from Duncan like a wave. A reciprocal tautening of Sam’s muscles made her ache. He sighed, long and deep, and settled back into his chair as the tension leaked out of him.

  “You remember I told you about what happened just before Christmas?”

  “When the terro
rists infiltrated the party you and Mandy attended and took a bunch of people hostage? And you had to save everyone?”

  He dismissed that last bit with a grunt. “Yeah, that.”

  “What does that have to do with what happened this morning?” she asked.

  Duncan hesitated. “We think—we know—Beaton Security was behind the attack.”

  The breath froze in Sam’s lungs at his words. “The huge security company that’s Soldiering On’s biggest competitor? How is that possible?”

  Duncan rolled his shoulders. “The main terrorist’s girlfriend told Mandy that Beaton had hired him. We suspect it’s true. They were also the ones that broke into our offices a few months ago and tried to hack our computer systems.”

  Sam fell silent, processing that. She’d had no idea the people that had attacked some of the wealthiest members of Portsboro society had been local. Worse, a well-respected company with a lot of clout. Her mind spun from the possibilities.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Sam asked, referring to the original Soldiering On team of her, Paul, Blake and Zack. They were like a family, and Sam couldn’t help a sliver of hurt from digging at her.

  Duncan ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “We didn’t want to put you guys in danger. If Beaton finds out what we know…well, they’ve already proven themselves to be ruthless.”

  “We could’ve helped,” Sam insisted quietly.

  “I know. But your safety comes first.”

  Sam’s heart warmed. She couldn’t argue with that. “So, what does Beaton have to do with this Cameron Lawrence guy? Does he work there?”

  Duncan’s brows shot up. “Work there? He’s their CEO.”

  Sam swallowed. “CEO, as in gives the orders?” She paused and took a shaky breath. “Did I save the life of a guy responsible for the deaths of a bunch of people?” she asked in a small voice, her stomach roiling violently.

  Duncan shrugged helplessly. “Mandy and I have been researching the company. He’s worked there for less than a year—three chairpersons are the true power of the company. But I don’t know whether he had any involvement with what happened at Christmas.”

  “Oh, God,” Sam whispered. She thought of the handsome man she’d met that morning, the way he’d prowled towards her. She hadn’t got a ‘murderer’ vibe from him, but how could she tell from so short an acquaintance? Maybe he’d totally deserved to be killed and she’d interrupted the work of some higher power. Or a rich individual with a bone to pick over the Christmas events. She couldn’t blame anyone if they had wanted to take revenge and stop such things happening again.

  “I can’t believe this,” she muttered.

  “There’s no evidence he’s involved,” Duncan reminded her softly.

  “He’s the CEO. What are the chances he didn’t know?”

  They stared at each other for a long moment, unspoken thoughts bubbling between them.

  “How do I fix this?” she asked.

  “If you’re willing—and it might be really dangerous—I ask you to take the job with Cameron Lawrence, and find out what you can. We haven’t had an opportunity like this to gather information. This could crack their activities wide open, expose them for what they are.”

  “Anything specific I should look for?”

  “Payment records, emails, anything like that. If you can find phone records of the night, one of the terrorists called his boss. It might be our smoking gun.”

  “And if they find out I’m spying on them?” Sam asked, though she already knew the answer.

  Duncan gave her a long look. “They’re ruthless. They have blood on their hands. I’m not going to lie—you’d be vulnerable. But, if you’re careful, the rewards might outweigh the risks. We’ll give you a fake identity that’ll give you some measure of protection.”

  “How many people died that night?” Sam asked. She knew what she had to do.

  “A few. Too many. But it could have been a lot more.” A darkness shadowed his eyes, but Sam didn’t ask what it meant.

  “Okay,” she said decisively. “I’ll do it.”

  Chapter 3

  Sam arrived at the Beaton offices that afternoon. She had her fake identity firmly in her pocket, ready to produce if anyone asked for it. Still, her hands shook with nerves, so she jammed them into her pockets to hide them.

  She hated going undercover. She wasn’t a great liar, since she preferred to live her life upfront and honest about everything. And she couldn’t charm herself into or out of situations like Blake—her colleague—could.

  Her mind shifted to Cameron Lawrence and determination overtook her nerves. She could do this. She had to do this.

  “Miss, do you have a pass?” a voice asked from her right. She turned to find a security guard staring straight at her. He waved her closer to his desk, and Sam manoeuvred around a group moving toward the elevator to reach him.

  “No pass,” she muttered, her voice more hesitant than she’d intended. She drew her brow into a scowl and affected her most imperious voice. “I’m here to see Cameron Lawrence of Beaton Security.”

  The security guard—name on the tag saying ‘Colin’—looked back impassively. “Is he expecting you?”

  “He’ll want to see me,” she told him.

  Colin raised his brows. “Uh huh. I’ll call and see about that. Who should I say is here?”

  “Sam,” she said.

  “Just Sam?”

  “That’s what he knows me as.”

  Colin blinked, then made a face that told her he didn’t believe her.

  Sam leaned sideways on the cold marble of the security desk as he dialled a number. The dark green marble of the desk contrasted with the white and gold of the floor. People wandered past and Sam studied them covertly, alert to any threat.

  “Mr. Lawrence? There’s a Sam here to see you.”

  “Really?” said the voice from that morning through the phone.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Send her up.”

  Colin gave her an impressed look. “Ninth floor,” he told her. “Knock on the glass when you get there and someone will open it for you.”

  She thanked him and proceeded to the elevator. She shared the ride with a pair of well-dressed women and wondered if she should have worn something more feminine. Dressed in her usual attire of loose business pants and an oversized shirt, she intentionally tried to hide her figure. She hated being looked at—worse, leered at—and did what she could to disguise what most people considered to be an attractive figure.

  But maybe this was one of those places that wouldn’t let her in the door if she didn’t have the right clothes or style. It was another thing she hated about undercover—it made her question herself, her choices, and put her in uncomfortable positions to get the results she wanted.

  She exited the elevator on the ninth floor and tugged on the bottom of her shirt to straighten it. She strode along past the frosted glass wall until she found the door and knocked, then wiped her palms on her thighs and waited.

  A woman in her thirties—sleek and confident—opened the door, a headpiece over one ear. “Yes?”

  “I’m here to see Mr. Lawrence,” Sam told her.

  The woman nodded and stepped aside. Sam straightened her shoulders and entered the lion’s den. She wouldn’t let her nerves get the better of her. She could take whatever these people dished out at her. And if she had to fight her way out? Well, she was more than capable of that, too.

  The comforting weight of the gun rested against her ankle, soothing her. Yeah, she’d be fine.

  The woman escorted her to a corner office. Sam walked past sleek, busy-looking people typing at computers, mostly women, and a few rough looking men. Beaton Security clearly had the stereotyped roles down, making Sam roll her eyes.

  When they reached Cameron’s office, the woman opened the door, gestured for Sam to enter, and then left without another word. Sam took a hesitant step inside and closed the door behind her.

  Cameron
Lawrence looked up as she entered, handsome as ever. His gaze travelled quickly over her, as if making sure she was really there, and Sam folded in on herself. She hated being noticed.

  She reminded herself of her purpose here, and the gun at her ankle, and took two more steps forward.

  “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” Cameron told her.

  Sam shrugged. “I thought I may as well hear you out,” she said, trying not to appear too eager. He gestured to the seat across from her and Sam slid into it.

  “I searched for you,” he said, ignoring her statement. Sam shivered at the thought he might have discovered her true identity. He’d know immediately she was a spy. Every evidence pointed to Beaton being brutal to those that crossed them.

  “And what did you find?” she asked, her voice cautious.

  “Not a lot. You didn’t give me much to go on. There are a lot of Samanthas in this city.”

  Relief flowed through her. Never had she been more glad to have been named Angelica. She usually hated the name as being far too feminine to suit her, but if it helped hide her true identity, she’d thank her parents every day for the rest of their lives.

  “Well, I’m here now. Why were you looking for me?”

  He leaned his elbows against his desk and stared at her intently. “I still want to offer you that job.”

  “Why me?” She studied him, trying to see beyond the man’s handsome visage to the core beneath. Had he arranged the deaths of hundreds of people?

  “Because you’re the only person that’s displayed true competence at saving my life, and I didn’t even have to pay you for it. I’m curious to see what you’d do if I offered you an exorbitant salary.”

  “Who’s trying to kill you?” she asked bluntly, then winced. She should’ve been more subtle.

  He smiled, his gaze approving at her question. “I’m not sure,” he answered. “I’m not even sure someone is trying to kill me. It might only be some unfortunate coincidences.”

  Sam studied him for a moment. He knew more than he was telling her. As tempting as it was to keep questioning him, she didn’t want to risk pushing too far and getting him angry. She needed him to hire her for this job. But she couldn’t help thinking that people wanting him dead meant he was guilty of some crime—maybe even the murders Duncan suspected of him. Innocent people weren’t generally targeted for assassinations.