Chapter One
“I hate to say this, but I almost miss Andrew’s lecherous ass. He was a nice diversion, all creepy and shit. I can’t really yell at the rest of you like him.” Deena Rae’s voice knocked the Pierce Securities men out of their silent meditations. It was suddenly loud against the ambient noise of the treadmill’s whirring, weights clanking, and the grunts of concentration.
Dex Hollerman chortled softly, not wanting to be the one to invoke Deena Rae’s ire. She was a pistol but fantastic at her job. Evan’s chuckle from the pull-up bar where he was doing leg lifts came out more like a grunty wheeze. Jordan chimed in from the hand weights, and soon, the entire office was laughing at her declaration from their stations at the piece-meal gym.
It made Dex feel warm inside, this camaraderie here. He’d been jealous of the guys and girls at Pierce Securities since he first started coming in to yell at them for their laissez-faire attitudes about the law, but the cowboys here had grown on him over the years, and now that he was retired, he longed to be a part of something again.
All eyes turned to Simon for his reaction on the floor by his bench where he was working on pelvic thrust squats. By unspoken rule it was “his” bench when he was in the gym; he usually sat there to get his free weight workout in before he hit the second-hand leg machine Jordan had brought in, or the treadmill for his cardio. Besides that, the almost pornographic move gave Dex the willies when he used the bench after Simon’s repeated pelvic thrusts on it. Logically, he understood it, emotionally, he was a fourteen-year-old about it.
They were all in fantastic shape, and what had started with idle curls while he mulled over cases with the guys had turned into a compulsion with Dex. He’d lost countless inches from his waist, gained a shit-ton of muscle mass in his arms and chest, and he was now almost as lean and fit as the rest of the Pierce Securities employees and partners.
“We can always bring the no-good, unreliable, shit-sack back for your entertainment.” Simon’s wry voice brought a tone of seriousness to the room. Aside from his sexist comments to Deena Rae, Andrew hadn’t shown up to work when it was an all-hands-on-deck assignment after Simon and Quinten’s sister had been kidnapped. That was the kiss of death for the new recruit.
“Anybody heard from Bonnie and Zack? How are they enjoying Pamona Gulch?” Ryan asked, as he spotted Deena Rae on the bench press.
Miriam was doing some yoga in the middle of the stained boxing ring in the corner, which really was something that cracked Dex up more than anything. He suspected it had been a joke, since Quinten had retired from his fighting, that they’d squeezed it into this room. Nobody really used it except when Miriam did her yoga. Usually, Quinten just punched the bag in the corner.
“Bonnie called me last night, they’re having a great time. Zack went skiing again, and she swears she’s going to kill him if the snow doesn’t melt soon. She’s praying for a heat wave on top of that mountain.” Miriam was smiling as she spoke, as if the couple were actually on a romantic retreat and not hiding out from the sadistic sociopath who’d set his sights on Bonnie.
“Well, he’s always been an adrenaline junkie. Can’t really expect the blindness to stop that,” Quinten murmured as he walked into the room, his serious demeanor not boding well for what came next. “I just ran the daily scan for Jonas. Still no sign of him.” Jonas being the sadistic sociopath in question. “You get anything on him, Hollerman?”
“Nope.” Dex continued jogging, almost finished. “APD isn’t talking to me, for a multitude of reasons.” Simon nodded in understanding. Dex had left the force, retired, and had no business there anymore. Besides, the way the Pierce boys had left things when Jonas disappeared made the police force suspicious of the securities firm.
Simon grunted his response, even though his words were to the younger Pierce brother. “Figures.”
“Well, hell. I guess we can only assume they have nothing, just like us,” Quinten growled.
“Yup,” Simon grunted before turning his attention on Dex. “When you’re done, I’ve got a job for you. I want you to see if they’ll help with it, but I’m not holding out much hope.”
“Ten-four,” Dex responded automatically, ready for anything, almost eager to participate in something. Going from a job where he had multiple assignments to juggle at a time to this one, where the jobs were hand-picked and chosen, was an adjustment.
“Michelle Perkins thinks her husband is involved in something suspicious, so she’s hired us to check it out. I thought you might see if he had a rap sheet, give us a start. Ryan can help you with it if you need him to.” Turning to the others in the room, one by one, Simon doled out assignments.
Simon Pierce was a force to be reckoned with. He didn’t use the computer unless he absolutely had to; he was old-school to the bone, as the stacks of papers on his desk attested. Dex had shared a scotch or two in his office while they’d talked cases and stuff, and that’s probably where his reluctant respect came from regarding the firm’s lackadaisical approach to the cases they worked. Their attitude seemed apathetic on the surface, to someone who understood how the law was supposed to work. Dex and Simon had discussed the shades of gray involved, though, and Dex had gained a better appreciation for the work they did.
Dex mentally planned a vague plan of attack for his new case. He would start by pulling records on the computer and chasing down leads, most likely showing pictures at motels and stuff. The private sector was surprisingly more lucrative than the force. If the client had the money, they would pay it. Information was a high commodity.