Built for Power (6 page)

CHAPTER NINE

Mallory was leaning against the old tree Bree had to climb to get back into her room at her mother’s house. One perfectly red-heeled foot rested against the tree as she waited for Bree. In her hand, Bree saw two thick files and a deep frown marring Mallory’s normally serene face.

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting?”

“I had to meet with my crew and then the ATF. Damien managed to get them involved after Mom told him about Detective Gruber’s gross incompetence. Do you have what I asked for?”

“Are you sure you want to do this? Once you go down this dark road, it may be hard to find your way back,” Mallory warned.

“I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life. I've learned one thing about bullies: they won’t stop until someone makes them.”

“This isn’t some schoolyard bully stealing your lunch money. These are ruthless men who will destroy innocent lives without blinking an eye.”

“That’s even more reason for me to do it,” Bree said with determination. “Now, hand it over.”

Mallory handed her the files. “Your family will never forgive me if something happens to you and I’ll never forgive you if it does.”

“Don’t worry, Mal. I’m the middle child. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s to wreak havoc,” Bree grinned before hoisting herself up into the tree.

Bree sat on the pink bedspread she’d had since she was a freshman in high school and opened the folder. She looked over Trevor’s first. He was sixty-one years old. He was five feet seven inches tall. He was slowly balding with the hair on the sides of his head cut short and a graying mustache. Trevor’s wife was considerably younger. Her name was Nikki and they had one child, a daughter. Nikki had a history of emergency room visits for “falls.” Bree turned the page and pictures of Trevor with hookers took up a lot of the file. Some of the hookers were photographed the next day with bruises covering their faces.

She kept on turning page after page. Each one was worse than the others. Homes had been stolen out from under people and leveled for his construction projects. City bonds had been arranged that were now worthless. People had lost their savings investing in them while Trevor grew rich.

Bree looked at the financials. While Trevor was sleazy, she couldn’t find any payments to government officials. She closed the folder and nibbled on her lower lip as she thought about all she had read. It didn't seem like it was Trevor. It was just a feeling she had. That meant it had to be Jeff. Bree hurriedly picked up Jeff’s file and flipped it open to his picture. His light brown hair, dark tanned skin, and big, capped teeth suited the retirement homes in Florida more than running a major construction business.

Jeff was well built but had never dirtied his flawless hands during his fifty-nine years in the industry. Bree had spent summers in high school and college working on houses for charity and knew what it took to actually build something. She doubted Jeff did anything with his hands besides getting a manicure.

Turning the page, she read about his family connections to New York and Chicago. She read about the government contracts he received in Georgia when it was clear he never should have been awarded them. She saw reports of vandalism, threats, and hospital records from private owners like her who had thought about using someone else to construct their corporate buildings. Bree felt her heart race as she flipped to the back of the file to look over his financials. It had to be Jeff.

She skimmed the numbers and saw payments to super PACs and politicians’ re-election campaigns, but nothing to the detective and police officer who had given her a hard time. Bree slammed the folder closed. Dammit! She had to find a link or no one would believe her.

* * *

The next afternoon, Logan stood in the lobby of Simpson Global and argued with the security guard. He didn’t have a badge. He wasn’t on the list. Bree wasn’t in the office today. No matter what argument Logan put forward, the guard wasn’t going to let him upstairs.

“Please, I just want to meet with Bree’s assistant.”

“You’re not on the list and the office is about to close,” the guard said again as he reached for his radio. Logan was sure he was going to be tossed out soon.

“George, it’s okay. This young man is with me. I can vouch for him.” Logan turned to his rescuer and choked on his thank-you.

Warning: Cougar on the Prowl
was on the front of Shirley’s walker as she shuffled over to where he and the security guard had been talking. George gave Shirley a smile and then went back to guarding the elevators at Simpson Global.

“Thank you, Shirley. I was just trying to find out where Bree lives. She’s not answering her phone, and I thought it might be nice to take her some flowers,” Logan said a little lamely.

It had sounded like a great idea when he passed the florist, but now he felt out of place with the huge bouquet in his hands. He’d also started to doubt if he should be taking someone flowers. It had been way too long since he’d been in a relationship, years in fact—since Stacy cheated on him, sending him to England. It wasn’t easy facing your younger brother who was now married to your ex-fiancée with two perfect little boys toddling around. But Bree seemed different. She wasn’t a woman you see for a short time and then forget. She was a woman you found yourself doing anything for—like taking her an obscenely large bouquet of flowers.

“Of course, dear. Tell me, who are your people?”

Uh-oh. That was a Southern interrogation technique. “I’m from Charleston, South Carolina. My family is proud to be one of the first families to settle there from England.”

“You're a good Southern boy, are ya?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then why are you in England?” Shirley asked with a knowing eye. Somehow she already knew the story, or at least that there was one.

Logan pasted on a fake smile to hide the fact he was uncomfortable, but by the way Shirley raised one eyebrow he knew she saw through it. “My family, the Wards, is one of the most preeminent families in Charleston. We were brick builders from England and set up shop in Charleston before the American Revolution.”

“I figured that was y’all. Simpson Construction buys bricks from your family.”

“If you say so,” Logan shrugged.

Shirley narrowed her eyes. “Are you not good with your family? Family is important, you know?”

“I know. It’s my family who doesn’t know that.” Logan took a deep breath. Why was he telling this to an old lady who was probably going to tell everyone else? But one look at her and Logan knew he had to tell his story, or he wasn’t getting Bree’s address. “I met a girl in college and we became engaged. I didn’t go home much because my father kept pressing me to join the family business.”

“And you wanted to design, not build,” Shirley guessed.

“That’s right. Whenever I came home, it ended in an argument. My mother would come to me later and try to smooth things over. She was a peacemaker but never stood up for me when I needed it. She never questioned my father and it made me angry so I stayed away.

“Then I brought my fiancée home. Dinner went just as I figured it would. My father pressured me to join the company, and I told him I wanted to get my master’s in architecture. My father exploded. He disowned me and gave the VP position to my younger brother, Brad. He also announced Brad would receive my half of the company and the inheritance he had always held over my head.”

“So, you forged ahead on your own. And Stacy?” Shirley asked with no pity in her voice. Somehow that made Logan feel better. It also made him realize he had stopped pitying himself as well.

“I stormed out of the house in anger. I expected Stacy to follow. She didn’t. Instead I found her in Brad’s bed soon after. Two months later, she was pregnant and they became engaged. The next day, I left for England on scholarship. My father was true to his word and cut me off. In the only act of defiance my mother ever made, she sent me enough cash for the plane ticket and living expenses for one month.”

“Have you seen them since?”

“When I have to. Brad and Stacy are married with two children and happily spending the family money. They enjoy rubbing it in my face every time I show up.”

“Humph. That usually means the opposite is true. But it makes me like you more. If you were a prick like your brother, then I wouldn’t let you near my Bree. But the question I still have is, what are your intentions with Bree? I will say you’re definitely the cutest thing that’s been hanging around here lately.” Shirley winked.

“Wait, what do you mean, lately?” Logan didn’t like the idea of other guys begging George to let them up to Bree’s office.

“That’s right. Bree is surrounded by men, but it will take a special man to get her attention. The question is, are you the one or are you just trying to have some fun before heading back across the pond?”

Logan was about to answer automatically that he was the right man, but Shirley had a point. What was he going to do? It wouldn’t be fair to either of them to toy with emotions and then leave.

“I don’t know,” he said sadly. The thought of giving up on Bree so soon after meeting her filled him with despair. Could he turn his back on something that felt so right just because it was new? All he knew was when he thought about his future, he saw Bree in it. That had to mean something. “But, I intend to find out. That is, if I can get her address.”

Shirley pulled out a piece of paper from the basket on her walker. Without saying a word, she wrote something down, folded it up, and tossed the paper on the floor. “Whoopsie—it slipped. Could you pick that up for me, dear?”

Logan shook his head and bent over to pick up the piece of paper. When he straightened back up and turned around, Shirley gave him a wink and scooted off to the elevators whistling. He opened the paper and saw an address and a message:
Take care of my girl or you’ll answer to me.

Later that night, Logan pulled up to the address Shirley had given him with a to-go container of chicken noodle soup and the flowers. He cut the engine and was trying to wrangle the flowers out of the car when he saw a dark shadow dart from behind the house. The figure ran down the block and disappeared.

Logan pushed the flowers back into the seat and ran around the car. He knew the sway of those hips even in the dark. What in the world was Bree up to? Turning his car around, he took off in the direction she had run. When he reached the end of the street, he saw the taillights of a cab as it took off. He didn’t know what she was up to, but somehow he knew it wasn’t a good idea.

The cab stopped and Bree got out. Logan parked his car and tried to catch up, but it was too late. She was gone.

Bree put on the ski mask as she approached Jeff’s construction site. She pulled out the wire cutters and looked around to see if anyone was coming. Clipping just enough wire to pull back the fence, she slid through the opening and headed to the trailer. Unlike all the damage Jeff had probably done to her site, she wasn’t going to vandalize anything. No, she was after something far more damaging to Jeff . . . his employment records.

She snuck around a backhoe and plastered herself to the side of the trailer. Sliding through the shadows, she rounded the back and looked up at the window. Trailers got so hot in the summer, the window was usually open with a fan in it. AC units could only do so much and she had a feeling Jeff was the type not to install them unless he had to. Sure enough, a box fan sat in the open window.

Bree looked around until she found a piece of lumber. Leaning it against the side of the trailer, she crawled up to the open window. She reached inside and set the box fan down. After climbing through the window, she landed on the table underneath and moved over to the filing cabinet.

Her heart was surprisingly calm as she opened the drawer and pulled out the latest payroll statement. She took out her phone and snapped a picture. She slid the file back in place and closed the cabinet. Through the open window, she heard footsteps approaching the trailer. Looking around frantically, she tried to hide before the front door was thrown open. She felt a little silly having gone through all the trouble of climbing through the window only to discover the front door was unlocked. But the humor was lost under the pounding of her heart as she tried to make herself invisible.

“Bree?” The deep voice asked in a harsh whisper.

Bree popped her head out from behind the fern on top of the filing cabinet and stared down at Logan.

“What are you doing here?”

“I think the better question is, how did you get up there?” Logan put his hands on his hips and shook his head at her.

“I’m the reigning champion of the Simpson Family Hide and Seek Tournament. I’ll never give away my secrets,” she said, realizing she felt better just having him here with her.

Logan held up his arms in silent invitation as he laughed. Bree smiled in response and slid forward. Logan’s hands wrapped around her waist and Bree put her hands on his wide shoulders. When he lifted her down, her breasts brushed against him. Logan lowered her slowly, making sure she slid down the whole length of his hard body. Bree felt the excitement from the break-in mix with the sexual tension that had started the second he saved her.

“You do realize what you’re doing is illegal, right?” Logan asked, lowering his voice.