ONE
AXEL
“Special delivery from the Swedish bakery!” Anna’s voice called from the hallway, and it was music to my ears.
I may have been just imagining it, but I swear I could already smell whatever wonderful pastries she was carrying.
I had yet to visit this bakery in person, and I really needed to. I was born and raised in Sweden and had only moved here to the U.S. about three years ago.
I had moved to take a job at a crime tech company as a cybersecurity analyst. I was essentially a white hat—the good kind of hacker. I helped companies find holes in their systems and fix them. I’d had a similar job with the Swedish military, where I had worked before coming to America. It was a good job, and I enjoyed it, but the tech company was so boring. I sat at a desk all day long and found I was miserable.
One day, a colleague of mine quietly pulled me aside and told me about a job opening for the same type of job, but at a security and private investigations company. The kicker—it involved hands-on projects, not sitting at a desk all day. I interviewed with Wade, Vince, and Archer at the new company—Ranger Shield Security—and they offered me the job on the spot.
I had been working here at Ranger Shield for nearly two years now and hadn’t regretted the decision to switch jobs at all.
“Axel, you better hurry before all your favorites are gone!” Anna yelled again from down the hall, reminding me there were Swedish treats with my name on them.
I popped up from my desk and made my way over to our large meeting room, which was likely where she’d put them.
Anna was Archer’s wife, and she had discovered this bakery a while ago. Once she found out I was Swedish, she recommended I go by to get a taste of home. I hadn’t gone yet, because admittedly, everything Anna had ever brought us from there was delicious, and I was afraid I’d order one of every single item they made if I went there on my own.
I turned the corner and walked into our meeting room, which had a large oval table that could seat twelve people. That table was currently covered in a variety of baked goods and desserts, and the room smelled incredible.
“Oh good, you’re all here,” Anna said, standing on the far side of the table.
Sure enough, almost everyone was here. The four owners of the company—Wade, Archer, Jack, and Vince—along with all the newer hires they’d had over the last two years since they started the company—Dane, Andre, Delia. The only ones missing were Ruthie, our administrative assistant, who was likely still downstairs in the front lobby, and Diego, who was out on a reconnaissance project right now.
“So,” Anna said, clapping her hands together, a sly smile on her face, as everyone dug into the delicious pastries laid out. “This free food comes with a request for a favor.”
Normally if someone said that, it would be accompanied by groans, but Anna was not one to ask for favors. She was a news anchor at a local TV station here in Atlanta, Georgia. Moreimportantly, she was a fan of curling—the greatest sport in the world—so I knew she was good people.
“Most of you know about Stella, who owns the Swedish bakery. She received a creepy note while I was there picking up my usual order,” Anna said to the room. “I was eavesdropping and heard the conversation between her and her assistant. Apparently, some guy keeps coming into the store and asking her out on a date. He’s left flowers and notes and made other gestures, but Stella isn’t interested. She’s made this very clear, though politely, to the man and has even taken to having her other employees intercept the presents so she doesn’t have to get them herself.”
Wow. I understood going for it and taking a chance asking a beautiful woman out when you didn’t know whether it would be reciprocated, but once the woman says no, you move on. Period.
“Well, according to Luna—Stella’s assistant—the notes are starting to be a bit more aggressive,” Anna added, and my attention became even more heightened.
I didn’t even know this woman, and I was already angry on her behalf.
“What do these notes say?” I asked.
Before she could answer, there was a gasp at the front door behind me. I turned to see Ruthie standing there, out of breath.
“I swear to God, if you guys ate all the cinnamon rolls, I will never forgive you,” Ruthie said to the room.
“I saved you one, girlie,” Anna told her, handing her a smaller box.
“God, I love you,” Ruthie said, grabbing the box and sitting down in the seat closest to me.
“Back to the notes,” Vince said, bringing my attention back to Anna.
“Stella has been throwing them out, so I don’t have any of the older ones, but I was able to get the one from today,” she said,pulling out a small plastic bag with a piece of paper inside. “I put it in one of Stella’s Ziploc bags from the kitchen so no other fingerprints would get on it, but I’m not sure it matters.”
She handed the bag to Archer before she spoke again. “Both Stella and Luna are convinced it’s this same guy with the presents. His name is Braden, but they don’t know his last name.”
She said that last part while looking at me. I nodded back to her, knowing what she was implying. She wanted me to look into this man and find more information about him. Dane was also good at getting some basic background info, but hacking was my specialty.
“Stella?” Ruthie said, her mouth half full of a wonderful smellingkanelbulle. “What happened to Stella?”
