Chapter 1
Reid
The ornate gates sweep open as soon as I approach, and I drive straight into Barrett Emerson’s newest estate. It’s as if he were expecting me. He isn’t. I’ve been reliably informed that the Emerson heir is still in New York. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.
I pull up at the guardhouse alongside a pick-up truck that’s about to head out. It’s full of construction workers and the driver’s chatting to the security guard.
“Do you want us to grab you some beers too?”
The guy on duty pulls a face. “I shouldn’t.”
“You can’t have pizza without a beer, man,” the driver insists.
“Hey,” I call out when no one pays me any attention. “I’m Michael Steel, here to see Quinn Jamieson.”
I’m reaching for my ID when the guard waves me through. “Sure, just follow the driveway and keep going. She’ll be at the house.”
“That went easier than expected,” I say under my breath as I pull away.
“I don’t suppose they think an empty house needs muchprotection,”Mace says in my earpiece.“I’m more shocked that any of the security guards would want to work there given what happened.”
“Or work for Barrett,” I say, agreeing with my brother.
As I drive through picturesque woodland, it’s hard to imagine it once surrounded a large food processing factory that served as a reliable employer for the small town of Poulton Springs. It was burned to the ground last year, not long after the Emersons took it over. Barrett has a history of asset-stripping his acquisitions, but arson is a new low, even for him. It could have something to do with the company he’s keeping.
“What’s the house like?”Mace asks.
“I can’t see it yet,” I say, but as I scan the gaps between the trees, I spot a stretch of asphalt that shimmers in the wintry sunshine. “But work on the landing strip seems complete.”
“My guess is it won’t be Barrett’s private jet that gets the most use from it. He’s really going out of his way to impress the Russians.”
I shudder at the thought of the Russian Bratva visiting this idyllic corner of southern Illinois, but it’s a good reminder of why I’m here.
The SUV’s tires crunch loose stone as I reach a stretch of driveway that hasn’t been leveled yet. The construction work was meant to be completed back in November, but it’s now the beginning of February and there’s still work to be done. I can neither confirm nor deny that it has anything to do with Mace hacking into the architect’s files and changing a few critical measurements.
Sadly, we haven’t been able to stop the build completely. Which is why we’re looking for alternative ways to run interference.
I take another bend and the house comes into view, although the term house doesn’t do it justice. Barrett’s brand new mansion is three stories high, and there are too many windows to count. Stone steps lead up to a grand entrance with Grecian columns to either side of oversized doors. It’s the kind of house you’d expect Mr. Darcy to walk out of to greet you.
“It’s obscene,” I say to Mace.
“Any more security?”
“Just one guy at the main entrance as far as I can see. He’s sitting in a fold-out chair scrolling on his phone.”
The guard doesn’t lift his head as I park the SUV and grab my briefcase from the back. I’m standing right over him when he finally looks up with a start, almost dropping his phone. He has to crane his neck to meet my eye. I’m the tallest Griffin, and although I don’t have the bulk of my three older brothers, I train hard and I’d like to think I can be just as intimidating.
I try not to dwell on the fact that this is my first solo mission. Not that it feels like I’m alone while I have Mace scrutinizing my every move. He’d also been the one to insist I have a backup team on standby in case I get into trouble. Which I won’t. My brothers need to have more faith in me.
“Geez, don’t go creeping up on people,” the guard says once he’s got over mysuddenappearance.
I cock my head. Should I point out the obvious?
“Reid, do not tell him how to do his job,”says Mace, reading my mind.“He might decide to prove a point and be thorough.”
“I’m Michael Steel from Ridgemont Solutions, here to see Quinn Jamieson,” I say brightly.
The guard jerks a thumb towards the open doors. “She’ll either be in her office in the west wing, oryou could go east and head for the kitchen. There’ll be someone around to help.”
