The Wedding Gift Page 19
Lincoln Adams smiled when she walked into his spacious office. He, too, had chosen to dress casually, in slim-fitting jeans and night blue sweater. The rear wall of smoked glass windows offered a perfect view of the newly remodeled train depot across the road. Two black-and-silver office chairs sat in front of the gray, marble–topped desk. One corner displayed a picture of his wife Jessie and daughter Edie on Jane’s Carousel in Brooklyn. A smaller frame held a black and white sonogram of his future son or daughter.
“Hi, boss,” Sam greeted her friend. She kissed him on the cheek before making herself comfortable on the wide cushioned seat. “I can’t get over the number of cars in the parking lot, especially on a Sunday.”
Linc sat in his high-back leather chair and twisted the wedding ring on his finger. He’d been dreading this meeting with Sam, but it couldn’t be put off any longer. Lives were at stake. “I thought establishing the office in Laurel Heights would be slow going, but we’ve got more business than I ever expected, not that I’m complaining. With me flying into Manhattan twice a week to meet with the staff at our main office, I haven’t been able to stop by to view the progress on the tea shop.”
“The renovations have taken a lot longer than I anticipated because of all the structural changes to meet code. The custom-designed glass atrium took the most time, but they will be adding it to the side of the building in another month, weather permitting. Working for Sallie Mae and taking care of the farm animals have kept me busy. I met Jessie and Edie coming out of the post office on Friday. She’s quite large. Are you sure there is only one baby?” Sam winked.
“There is only one! I am not following in Scott and Russell’s footsteps, having more than one baby at a time.”
Nate finished his call and took a seat next to Samantha. He’d have to be comatose not to appreciate the beautiful woman with the champagne-blond hair. Her long, lithe body had been poured into black leather pants and a form-fitting biker’s jacket. Her complexion was creamy smooth and had a natural glow. When she smiled, her sapphire-blue eyes glistened like gemstones. Getting involved with a woman was the last thing he needed. At one time, he had it all, but foolishly gave up the love of a lifetime. His leg and hip were still bothering him and he felt like shit. At times he felt like he was a hundred rather than thirty-seven years old. He folded his hands atop his cane. “Sorry, I had to take that phone call.”
“I’ve known you two a long time, and you’ve got trouble written all over your handsome faces.” She brought her long braid over her shoulder and feathered the brushy tip. “What is it?” Walk away! Walk away!
Linc rolled a narrow flash drive between his fingers and retrieved a manila folder from the side of his uncluttered desk. The word “Confidential” had been stamped across the top. “Sam, you know I’d never ask you to do something if I didn’t feel we were out of options. Nate, why don’t you start?”
“I went back to work a month ago, and I’ve been assigned to a damn desk for a few more months. You were involved in my previous investigation into the trucking company smuggling illegal booze and untaxed cigarettes. The case is still open, and I’m determined to get these sons of bitches. The wife of the first independent trucker killed reached out to me two weeks ago and asked if I’d made any progress into the investigation of her husband’s death. I owe her for coming in initially so we could set up a task force. She claimed her husband took expert care of his truck, and there was no way his brakes had failed. He’d also suspected he’d been conned into transporting stolen cigarettes.” Nate’s voice took on a somber note. “Two more independent truckers have been killed. The accidents took place in two different states, so they appear to be un- related.”
Linc reflected on the precarious situations Samantha had worked as an undercover operative. None were like this assignment. She would be risking her life, and he would never forgive himself if something happened to Sam. He wanted to warn her off, but the decision to take on the case would have to be hers. “Nate has come up with an idea.”
Her suspicion had been correct, but she remained silent. She crossed her knees and knitted her fingers together. Walk away, now!
“His proposal is that you go undercover as an independent driver,” Linc continued. “They would never suspect a sassy, sexy woman. A confidential informant working in the company reported Andrew Sayers has moved up in the organization. I personally want that bastard for shooting Jessie when she was a cop in New York.”
“Right now the company is experiencing top-level turnover,” Nate added. “The president and CEO were killed in a small plane crash six months ago and their children inherited the company. They’re also in trouble with their insurance company.”
“Adams Security and Investigations has been retained to look into insurance fraud, your specialty. Nate and I wouldn’t ask this of you if we thought you couldn’t handle yourself. This is a life-threatening situation—yours —so give it serious thought before you take on this assignment.”
Sam didn’t have to be reminded that Nate and Treig Taylor, Lincoln’s brother-in-law, a former agent for the Alcoholic Beverage Control, had barely escaped with their lives investigating this trucking company. She feathered one of her dangling gold duck earrings with her finger and closed off the part of her brain that advised she walk away. The fee she intended to charge would pay for the equipment in her bakery kitchen and the ornate tables and chairs for the interior of the tea room. “When would I have to start?”
“As soon as possible,” Nate said. “The company is currently looking for drivers.”
“I’ll need background information on the owners, accident reports, the info your task force has gathered, any suspects. I also have a personal vendetta against Andrew Sayers for making us look like fools on my last assignment.”
Linc passed her the small drive, the folder and a specially programmed burn phone. “Everything you’ll need is right here.” Lincoln winked, knowing she would understand. “Your handle is the password. I will let the insurance company know our agent will be working undercover.”
“I’ll need a couple days to get things in order. The foreman can oversee the construction on the tea shop. I should be able to live at home, but Cindi and Preston can take care of the animals while I’m on the road. I’ll use my own tractor.” She gave Linc a confident smile. “Tell the insurance company my fee for doing this assignment is triple Adams Security’s fees plus all expenses.”
Samantha pushed up from the chair and gave Linc and Nate a military salute. “I’ll be in touch.”
An hour later, she added a log to the fire in the original Colonial brick hearth before settling in one of the two wing chairs that afforded the perfect spot to absorb the warmth from the dancing flames. The previous owners had attached the former summer kitchen to the rear of the house, creating an inviting, intimate parlor. She loved the rental property so much, she’d bargained with Henry Long, the owner and personal friend, for the two-hundred-year-old stone farm house, barn and outbuildings, along with the two-acre pond that Cupcake and Muffin, her pet ducks, used every day.
She savored some of her Lady Grey tea and tucked her legs under her on the wide plaid cushion. The thick manila folder was balanced on her lap. She’d already downloaded the files to her laptop, but wanted to review the paperwork. The top four items were eight-by-ten color photos of the owners of Trans-American Motor Freight. The first two were of an attractive man and woman, Edward and Edwina O’Ryan, thirty-three year old twins. The third picture was of their forty-year-old cousin, Jonathan Ellis.
Her hand trembled when she lifted the fourth picture. The last time she’d seen that compelling, handsome face with the intense green eyes, she was practically naked and was giving him a lap dance.
One year ago.
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