AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Parsons looked down and nodded. “I was late for a spa appointment. I didn’t stop. We just waved at each other. I … I didn’t know I would never see him again.”
She put her face in her hands and broke down sobbing. “So many things are ending on me, I can’t stand it half the time.”
CHAPTER 8
THAT MORNING, BREE WALKEDinto the corporate offices of the Bluestone Group in Arlington, Virginia, greeted the receptionist, and was told that Elena Martin was awaiting her in the conference room.
Bree had been in law enforcement for nearly twenty years and had worked every kind of case people could imagine and a few no one could. But she still felt the familiar thrill of anticipation as she headed to the conference room.
The last time she’d come in for a secret assignment like this, she’d ended up in Paris in a firefight with modern vigilantes associated with a mysterious organization known as Maestro and its even more mysterious leader, a man who called himself M.
Maestro and M had come into Bree’s life through Alex. One day about five years ago, out of the blue, Alex and John Sampson began getting texts from M. At times, M’s texts were taunting,criticizing her husband and his partner. But occasionally, M gave Alex information that resulted in big arrests.
But that all changed when M sent ex–Special Forces commandos to ferret out and kill U.S. federal law enforcement officers and agents corrupted by the Mexico-based Alejandro drug cartel. After Bree survived the firefight in Paris, Alex and Sampson got in the middle of the Maestro investigation and were caught in the Montana wilderness in open combat between M’s forces and the Alejandro cartel’s soldiers.
The experience had almost cost them their lives.
But now, the Alejandro cartel was no more. And M had been silent ever since the cartel’s leader had been killed when her private jet was blown up as it was taxiing down the runway.
Elena Martin waved at Bree from the other side of a glass wall. The founder and CEO of the Bluestone Group was talking on her phone and nodding. Two large cardboard boxes rested on the table in front of her.
Martin, wearing a sharply cut gray pantsuit, had shoulder-length light brown hair and a no-nonsense style that Bree loved. A former investigator with the Defense Intelligence Agency, Martin was also an entrepreneurial visionary who, after leaving the military and her marriage, had built Bluestone into one of the top private security firms in the country by aggressively recruiting top law enforcement professionals like Bree.
Martin was demanding but generous. What more could you want in a boss?
She ended her phone call as Bree pushed open the door and said, “Hello, Elena. Am I early?”
Martin smiled, stood, and extended her hand. “Bree,” she said. “How good to see you.” The two shook, and Martin gesturedfor Bree to sit. “I saw there’s been another Family Man killing. Alex must be busy.”
“Up to his eyeballs, as our boys, Ali and Damon, like to say,” Bree said, sitting.
“Any leads?”
“None that I’ve heard,” she said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. “Because he doesn’t share much with me about the case. He can’t.”
“Understood,” Martin said, also sitting down. “The whole thing’s just wrong. On another, happier note, I read your report on the Wallace Industries investigation. Well done.”
“Thank you. It didn’t take me long to figure out who was embezzling from their research fund.”
“Well,theycouldn’t figure it out, and Ken Wallace himself called yesterday to say how pleased they were with the results of your work,” Martin said. “He also gave us a hefty contract to examine his company’s security protocol worldwide, which I believe calls for a hefty bonus for you in your next paycheck, Ms. Stone.”
Bree was happily surprised. “Thank you, Elena. I didn’t expect that, but I’m not going to turn it down if you’re offering.”
“Who would? And I’m insisting,” Martin said. She steepled her fingers. “You were the one.”
Raising her eyebrows, Bree said, “The one?”
Martin pointed to the two boxes on the conference table. “The first and only one I thought of when this delicate case came our way. We have a client with very deep pockets who wishes to remain deeply anonymous.”
“Do you know the client?”
“I know the client’s representative but not the client, no.”
“What am I doing?” Bree said, reaching for the boxes. “Where am I going?”
Martin put her hand on Bree’s. “You need to sign a nondisclosure agreement.”
“Isn’t nondisclosure boilerplate in our contracts?”
