The woman who entered behind Walker wasn't what I expected. She was tall and curvy with bright purple hair cut in an asymmetrical bob, multiple piercings in each ear, and a sleeve of colorful tattoos running down her right arm. She wore ripped jeans and a band t-shirt under a leather jacket, and when she smiled at me, her whole face lit up.
"You must be Lottie," she said, her voice warm and slightly husky. "I'm Fiona. I hear we have something in common."
I returned her smile tentatively. "Hi."
Walker cleared his throat. "I'll give you two some privacy. I need to make some calls anyway." He looked at me, his expression softening. "I'll be in my office if you need anything."
After he left, Fiona settled onto the stool beside me, setting a small backpack on the counter.
"So," she said, "The boss tells me you're having some trouble managing your blood sugar?"
The direct approach caught me off guard but surprisingly, it made me laugh. I liked her already.
Chapter eight
Walker
I headed to my office, leaving Lottie with Fiona. Through the partially open door, I caught a glimpse of the two women already deep in conversation, Fiona gesturing animatedly while Lottie nodded. Relief washed through me. This had been the right call.
My office was at the back of the house, a space I'd converted from a spare bedroom when I bought the place. It was sparse but functional—a desk, ergonomic chair, and wall-mounted monitors for security feeds. The only personal touch was a framed photo of my grandmother, taken years before my grandfather's abuse had dimmed the light in her eyes. I had some photos of my parents and me as a baby but I could never bear to look at them, so they were somewhere in a box.
I settled into my chair and initiated a video call to Dion, Gideon, and Maddox. They answered almost immediately, their faces appearing in separate windows on my screen.
"How's she doing?" Dion asked without preamble, his expression concerned.
"Better," I said, running a hand through my hair. "Doc got her stabilized. Xavier sent Fiona around and she’s with her now, talking about management strategies."
Maddox nodded. “Fiona’s good people.”
“I learned more about Lottie’s background." I took a deep breath, organizing my thoughts, and repeated what Eric had told me.
"She told me about her uncle," I said, leaning back in my chair. "This guy raised her after her parents died, made her feel like a burden because of her diabetes, then kicked her out at eighteen with nothing."
"Sounds like a real piece of work," Maddox muttered, his expression darkening.
"Eric's background check confirms it," I continued. "Her parents died when she was young—car accident with some very suspicious elements that were never followed up on. The uncle, Stephen Mallory, became her guardian and took control of all assets."
"What assets?" Gideon asked, leaning forward.
"Three rental properties, a paid-off house in Oakwood Hills, two cars. Not massive wealth, but comfortable. But Lottie told me her parents didn't leave her anything."
Dion's eyebrows shot up, and Gideon made a disgusted sound.
"Eric's doing some more digging into the will, as he didn't think it was straightforward." I tapped my fingers against the desk. "Meanwhile, she's living in a shithole apartment near Nebraska Avenue, working minimum wage at a convenience store, and can't afford her insulin."
"While this asshole lives in her parents' house and drives a Mercedes," Dion finished, his face hardening into the expression I recognized from our military days—the one that meant someone was about to have a very bad day.
"Exactly. And now someone's broken into her apartment. Nothing was taken, but they went through all her things, reorganized everything."
"That's...specific," Gideon noted, his tactical mind already working. "Not your typical burglary."
"No," I agreed. "It feels targeted. Like someone was looking for something."
"Or sending a message," Maddox added grimly.
I nodded. "But what? The place was tidied up, if anything. And someone had to be watching her."
"Like stalkerish?" Dion asked.
