Iron Cross (COBRA Securities Book 20) Read online

  He found her sitting at the bar in the kitchen reading a magazine. She looked up, and something heavy slammed into his chest. She was so damn beautiful.

  “Is everything okay?”

  It took him a moment to realize she was talking about the phone call, not his reaction to her. “Hopefully. I have an issue I need to deal with when I get home.”

  “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

  “Thanks. Just allowing me to borrow your deck helped. Your house is incredible.”

  She smiled, and another sledgehammer impacted with his sternum. He absently rubbed at the ache.

  “Thanks. I designed it myself.”

  His brows raised. “I’m impressed.” And he was, at both the house and the woman.

  He followed her to her golf cart, and they motored back to the park. He was also fascinated with the compound and would love to explore the assortment of buildings, especially the gym. Unfortunately, he’d have to cut his trip short even though he’d planned on staying a couple of extra days.

  Kayla parked next to a row of golf carts, and they headed back to the pavilion. He observed several of her coworkers shooting them covert looks he deciphered to mean they thought he and Kayla hooked up. He glanced down at her. She noticed, too. He hoped he hadn’t sullied her reputation, especially since nothing happened.

  “Do I need to announce that I just needed a private place to make a call?”

  She chuckled. “You noticed, huh? Nah. They’re all cool. They’ll never say anything.”

  Still, it bothered him that they might think they’d snuck off for a quickie. He had an overwhelming desire to protect her reputation. Before he could do anything, someone called Kayla’s name, and then Tyler found him and introduced him to so many people, his head spun. He tried to keep Kayla in his sights, but the night passed in a blur. Before he knew it, he was on the road headed home. He hadn’t had the chance to tell her goodbye.

  As the miles ticked away, his thoughts bounced between Kayla and Nina, so totally opposite. It was the offseason, so he couldn’t just slip a ticket in the mail and hope Kayla would show up at a game. He had a summer camp coming up and a slew of appearances. His next few weeks were booked. It didn’t stop him from conjuring up ways to see her again. Before he could form any plan, Brenda called to let him know the police filed the report, and word had gotten back to her station. They were planning on a search party first thing in the morning. He prayed they’d find Nina alive and well, but a sickening feeling in his gut told him it was already too late.

  Chapter One

  One month later

  Kayla Hepburn surreptitiously shifted her SIG Sauer where it dug into the sensitive flesh between her legs. There weren’t many places to hide a gun when you had to wear a thousand-dollar cocktail dress and stilettos so tall, her feet would ache for a week. Strapping it to her upper thigh was the only option. She did have a backup in her small handbag, too. A girl could never be too prepared.

  She was ready for this assignment to be over. Though her preferred attire included t-shirts and yoga pants, she wasn’t unfamiliar with formal wear. Her mother made her dress up for pageants from the time she could walk. She hated every minute. She wanted to be outside playing with the other kids instead of practicing the piano or suffering through etiquette lessons. She did enjoy the gymnastics and dance classes because those were physical. She’d never been a girly-girl. That didn’t stop her momager from trying to turn her into one. When Kayla was five, her older sister—her mother’s first human barbie doll—tragically passed away. Her mother was a frustrated beauty pageant contestant who’d never finished in the top three. She was determined to mold her remaining daughter into the beauty queen of her dreams.

  Kayla finished in the top three in most pageants her mom entered her into from the time she was one until her senior year of high school, winning several. Her mother was poised to turn her into Miss America, but Kayla’s idea of a Miss America was diametrically opposite. She had other plans, namely following her father and older brother into the service. She enlisted the day she turned eighteen, much to her mother’s dismay. Kayla took great pains to downplay her physical attributes and focused on becoming the best soldier she could be, while also taking classes to earn her degree. But after four years of being the Army’s poster child, she’d had enough. She wasn’t taken seriously. She was tired of fending off passes from her superiors and jobs that were insulting to keep her from any type of physical combat. Thankfully, her path crossed with Logan Bradley, and when he offered her a position with his flourishing company, she jumped in with both feet and never looked back.

  She loved her job. Absolutely adored it. It was challenging, exciting, and never dull. That wasn’t counting this case that she’d have turned down if possible. She’d been around long enough that if she didn’t want the job, her bosses would never force her. She rarely worked bodyguard cases, but Senator Dick McDougal from Illinois specifically requested her services. A group of extremists targeted him due to his views on the climate. She disagreed with his politics, and he was a pompous ass, but he paid big bucks to hire her for his protection. He was a high-profile client who served on several senatorial committees. There were even rumblings of a presidential run in the near future. Luke Colton and Logan Bradley, her bosses and the founders of COBRA Securities, established their company on professionalism, complete satisfaction, and, most importantly, results. She wouldn’t let her personal opinions interfere with getting the job done.

  Along with fellow agent Sawyer Oldham, she was training two new operatives, Colt Fontaine and Kaiya Quillen. Colt posed as a server, while Kaiya acted as the date of Senator McDougal’s chief of staff. They were attending a fundraiser for the senator’s campaign. Word on the street hinted at the extremist group Soldiers of Truth making an appearance to cause a scene and possibly harm the senator before a crucial vote on a controversial bill in four days. They wanted to make sure the senator didn’t get the chance to campaign for the bill he sponsored.

  After dodging his groping hands for two hours, she was considering letting the Soldiers of Truth win. Not really, but she did fantasize about breaking a few fingers on the senator’s grabbing hand. Thankfully, the job only included the fundraiser. He’d made comments about extending the contract, but that wasn’t going to happen. She refused to be his paid escort. He could petition the Secret Service if he wanted full-time protection, as far as she was concerned.

  The senator didn’t want to seem weak in front of the people he asked to open their checkbooks and contribute generously, so instead of typical bodyguard duties, Kayla was posing as his date. Lucky her. He also refused their suggestion of a metal detector, which made their job that much harder. She didn’t see any problem asking rich people to pass through a screening device that would be for their protection, too. McDougal disagreed, and sadly, the client was always right.

  A tall man with dark hair walked by, and her breath caught. He turned his head, and she exhaled. It wasn’t Finn Bates. It’d been a month since her encounter with the gorgeous hockey star. She’d been on several assignments, and she was so busy, she didn’t think of him. Much. Okay, maybe her thoughts drifted to him from time to time. And maybe her dreams were filled with images of him. Every single night. It meant nothing. Was she hoping he’d call? Sure. Was she sitting by her phone, waiting? Never.

  Her face hurt from fake smiling as the senator worked the crowd with her on his arm like a shiny bauble. The back of her neck started to tingle. She learned never to discount that warning. Scanning the room, she searched for the threat and locked onto a man rapidly approaching with a determined look in his eye.

  “Heads up,” she murmured into her comm as she released the senator’s arm.

  “Colt and I have two tangos neutralized,” Sawyer informed her. “We caught them planting a bomb in the kitchen.”

  McDougal was speaking with one of the donors when the stranger approached, reaching into the fold of his suit coat. Before
the gun could clear his lapel, she had him wheezing in surprise, face down on the ground with his other hand wrenched behind his back.

  “Kayla, what the hell are you doing?”

  She ignored the senator as she forced the man’s other arm back and quickly slapped on a pair of flex cuffs from her purse.

  “Kaiya, clear the weapon,” she ordered as her teammate rushed to assist. She rolled the man to his side so Kaiya could retrieve the gun. A collective gasp went up in the ballroom. Kayla glanced up to see the entire room had stopped what they were doing to watch. Even the background chamber music ceased. When she hauled the man to his feet, the room erupted in applause.

  “We will not be silenced,” the man shouted. “Our voices will be heard.”

  “Yeah, not tonight, buddy,” Kayla muttered as she grabbed a cloth napkin from a table and stuffed it into his mouth, much to the delight of the onlookers.

  People slapped her on the back and heaped praise on her as she walked the perp through the crowd. Several men shouted marriage proposals. Others asked if she would use her cuffs on them. She shook her head. This was supposed to be a cultured, refined crowd.

  “Is it always like this?” Kaiya asked.

  “No, thank goodness.” She glanced back at the senator to see him surrounded by people with his chest puffed out and a massive smile on his face. “Good job,” she praised the perp. “Looks like your little stunt opened the purse strings. Now the senator will have an endless supply of cash for his pet projects.”

  The napkin muffled whatever the man was trying to say. She was sure it wasn’t pleasant.

  “Kaiya, go back inside and make sure there isn’t a second wave. This one could’ve been a decoy.”

  “On it.”

  She felt slightly guilty sending Kaiya back to deal with the mob. She could’ve let her handle this man while she went back to the soiree, but she was so done with Senator McDougal. Seniority had its benefits.

  Nodding at Colt as she passed him, she led the perp through the kitchen to the loading dock where Sawyer watched over the other two. The bomb squad arrived to dismantle the device they hadn’t had a chance to plant. Police cars screamed to a stop, and they watched as the men were read their Miranda rights and loaded into the back of a cruiser.

  “Do we know how they got in?” It cost a thousand dollars a plate. She doubted the Soldiers of Truth had that kind of capital.

  Sawyer nodded. “The skinny one was more than eager to talk, thinking he’d get a better deal. Little did he know I’m not a cop, and I have nothing to do with his sentencing.” They both chuckled. Sawyer had been an FBI agent before joining COBRA Securities, so he had plenty of experience dealing with incompetent bad guys. He could be very intimidating. “They stole a credit card from a company that supports the senator and reserved three tickets.”

  “Only three?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “Good. Maybe we can get out of here soon.”

  The cop cars departed to transport the trio to the station.

  “If only he’d let us use the metal detector,” Sawyer groused.

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  Regrettably, they returned to the ballroom, and she was sucked into a vortex of praise and requests for her services. People couldn’t believe she’d handled the man so easily. She couldn’t believe one night could last so bloody long.

  #

  Finn Bates stared at the white casket with gold accents as it slowly lowered into the ground. He was still having a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that Nina was gone. They’d found her body trapped in a mass of tree roots and debris in the Monongahela River almost a month after she disappeared. She’d been missing so long, he was afraid they’d never know what happened to her. There had been numerous search parties, several of which he took part in, but they’d turned up nothing.

  With the amount of decomposition from the water, it’d been hard to tell how she died. The coroner finally ruled it murder due to her crushed larynx and broken hyoid bone. Someone had strangled her. The cops had no leads. As the most recent man she’d dated, he’d been grilled for hours, but his alibi was rock-solid. He’d been out of town during the time of her disappearance.

  Her story regularly played on every television station the first week she went missing, and their relationship was resurrected in pictures and videos. Following his agent’s advice, he sat for an interview broadcasted nationwide. As the days ticked by, Nina’s story slowly vanished from the headlines until one day, a man and his grandson out fishing discovered her floating in the river.

  The cops were now looking at the possibility of an obsessed fan—his or Nina’s, they weren’t sure.

  All the publicity surrounding her disappearance and subsequent murder brought an enormous amount of attention to the Punishers’ franchise because of his tie to Nina. Georgiana Westfield, the new owner, couldn’t be happier. She inherited the team when her decades older husband Broderick died of a heart attack days before the Stanley Cup playoffs. He didn’t live to see his team win or Finn take home the MVP trophy. Though he didn’t know her well, the picture of Georgiana kissing him as he held the Stanley Cup aloft made the cover of Sports Illustrated. She’d had it blown up and framed for Broderick’s office—now hers—inside the arena.

  “Sorry, Finn. I know you cared for her.” He glanced over at Shawn Langer, his agent and best friend. He’d known Shawn since their freshman year in high school when they both played on the varsity hockey squad. They’d gone on to play in college, though he’d attended on a full-ride scholarship while Shawn had been a walk-on. He’d been drafted to the pros. Shawn opted for graduate school. He now served as Finn’s agent.

  “Yeah, I did.” Just not enough to keep up a relationship.

  “I’m sorry too, Finn.”

  He nodded at Clint Groves, another high school teammate and now an athletic trainer for the Punishers. The three stayed friends over the years and now lived and worked in the same city.

  The minister finished the service, and the attendees stood to leave. Nina’s entire television station was in attendance, as well as several of his teammates. Even Georgiana made an appearance. Camera crews were filming, probably for shots on the news. He and Shawn skirted the throng of reporters.

  “Isn’t this great?”

  Finn stopped dead in his tracks. Narrowing his eyes at Kip Pennington, the publicist for the Punishers, he growled, “What the hell are you talking about, Pennington? A woman is dead.”

  Pennington had the awareness to look abashed. “Yeah, that sucks,” he admitted. “But the publicity has been a boon for us, and you. Am I right, Shawn?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Every news program and sports magazine wants to interview you. Our name is on the front page of all the papers. Companies are clamoring for you to be their spokesperson. That’s public relations gold.”

  Finn clenched his jaw. It wasn’t right that the focus was on him when it should’ve been on Nina and her accomplishments. She’d been very good at her job. She came across warm and friendly, and she delivered the news with poise and dignity. People trusted her.

  “Get lost, Pennington,” Shawn said as they continued walking.

  “But…I need to schedule those interviews with you.”

  Finn didn’t stop. He’d already given plenty. Besides, it was hard to answer questions when what the reporters essentially wanted was juicy gossip. Did he still love Nina? Would his heart recover? He’d never loved Nina, but he wouldn’t do a disservice to her memory by admitting that to the public.

  “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry.” Georgiana Westfield threw her arms around him and clung tight. Some exotic scent that probably cost a thousand bucks an ounce enveloped him. Cameras were snapping, flashbulbs blinking like strobe lights as he tried to end the embrace, but she wasn’t letting go. She clung like an anaconda. He met Shawn’s amused gaze.

  As gently as possible, he stepped back. Somehow Georgiana managed to hook her arm through his as s
he led him to her waiting vehicle—a pink Bentley limo. “Why don’t you all come to the house for some refreshments. You don’t want to be alone right now. Having family around will help.”

  Yes, it would, but she wasn’t family. His parents wanted to come to the funeral. They’d met Nina, and while she didn’t make the best impression, his parents knew he’d cared for her. He’d told them it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t want them getting caught up in the circus that was his life right now.

  He’d met Georgiana a handful of times, the first being when she married the much older Broderick Westfield three months ago after knowing him less than a week. He and Broderick had a good, stable relationship. Broderick selected him as the first draft choice out of college, paying him a ridiculous salary for ten years, with an incremental increase each year and bonuses for playoff wins, Stanley cup victories, and MVP trophies. His contract was up for renegotiation. It looked like he’d be dealing with Georgiana.

  “Thanks, but I’ll have to decline.”

  “Nonsense. I won’t hear of it. Come-on, you ride with me.” She propelled him forward. With a backward glance over her shoulder, she said, “Mr. Langer, you and Mr. Groves can meet us there.”

  Finn barely had time to telegraph a help message to his friends as she guided him through the open door. He wanted to protest, but he didn’t want to get on the wrong side of the new owner. His contract negotiations needed to be on good terms, something Shawn had been drilling into him since Georgiana took over the reins. Plus, the ever-present media was watching. He couldn’t afford to make a scene since his reputation was tenuous following Nina’s murder.

  Before he realized it, he was seated inside the pink leather interior—where did you even buy something like this? Georgiana scooted over and cuddled against his side. The slit in her dress bordered on obscene as she folded one leg across the other, giving him a glimpse of smooth, tanned skin. A Sharon Stone/Basic Instinct moment flashed through his mind. He wasn’t remotely attracted to the woman and refused to mix business with pleasure. She obviously didn’t feel the same way. Her pink-tipped nails coasted up his thigh.