By the time Jonathon returned, Octavia had cooked up a small meal just for them. The door was open, and Jonathon walked through the screen.

“It’s me, O,” he called.

Rounding to the kitchen, a smile spread across his nicely groomed face.

“This better be for me,” he said, standing over a plate full of food. Jonathon reached for a utensil and brought a stack of scrambled eggs to his mouth.

“Who else would it be for?” Octavia said. “Oh wait, there is that guy I’m dating, so I could have cooked for him.”

Jonathon dropped the fork, and it clanged against the plate loudly. “I thought you got rid of that loser.” His voice was just below a rumble.

“Not exactly,” Octavia teased.

Jonathon just stared at her.

“Oh, come on, he wasn’t that bad,” Octavia said, keeping it going.

“He’s a womanizer, Octavia. You can’t be seriously considering dating him after the way he treated you.”

Octavia bit down on her lips. Steven Matthews was someone she met out while doing some casual shopping a few months ago. He seemed harmless enough. But after going out on a few dates, Octavia noticed how he would ogle women when they walked by. It was disgusting, and she’d surmised that he was a pig.

“I’m just kidding. I would never go out with a guy like that.”

Jonathon seemed to relax, picking his fork back up to continue eating.

“You didn’t say grace,” Octavia said.

With a mouth full of food, Jonathon responded, “Grace.”

Octavia’s mouth fell open. “No, you didn’t.”

Jonathon swallowed and laughed. “Now, I’m just messing with you.” He tugged her ear.

“That’s no fair.” Octavia crossed her arms.

“I’d say it’s fair game.”

Octavia pushed his firm shoulders, but she didn’t move him.

“Whatever,” she mumbled. “By the way, Steven did apologize for the way he acted. I just never told you.”

Jonathon dropped his fork again. “O, are you trying to make me lose my appetite? Is that what you want?”

Octavia giggled. “I’ll just give your plate to the first one through the door then. I’m sure whoever it is would love to have it.”

“Digging the knife deeper, I see,” Jonathon responded. “Go ahead, see if you can break the blade off as you cut.”

Octavia’s eyes grew. “Don’t say that. You know I’m just messing around.”

Jonathon watched her for a long time. “Are you considering going out with him again?”

She reached out and rubbed his shoulders up and down. “If I start dating again, you’ll be the first one to know. I’ll need you to check out his background and stuff anyway. That’s what you like to do, right?”

Frustration seeped from Jonathon. “You can’t date him,” he said firmly.

Octavia’s brows rose, and she re-crossed her arms.

“Excuse me?”

“You said you would never go out with a guy like him.”

“I wouldn’t, but there’s nothing wrong with us being friends. Or, having a sociable outing every now and then. A girl gets lonely sometimes.”

Jonathon’s eyes darkened. “I’m your friend.” He pulled her into his space. “If you need to go out, we can go together.”

“That’s really sweet of you, but…”

“But what?”

But you’re the reason I need to get out with someone different. Because you’re always on my mind. Because I find myself depending on your comfort. Because I might be falling…

Octavia forced her train of thought to reverse. “You are not always available, Mr. Rose.” Octavia fumbled with his collar, and her fingers uncharacteristically skipped down his throat. Jonathon’s eyes closed then reopened as a trail of warmth followed the path of her fingers.

“Anytime you need me, I’ll make time.”

Octavia balked. “You can’t say that. Your business is too demanding. Your clients are high-profile. What would they think if you just up and left because your lonely best friend calls craving popcorn and a sociable night out?”

“If I told you the number of former military, police officers, security agents, and other former aristocrat men who are on my payroll, you wouldn’t even form your lips to say what you just insisted.”

“Wow, that’s interesting. So why do you go out then? It sounds like you could kick back and relax while your men do the work for you.”

Jonathon shrugged. “I could, but some clients prefer me to be in attendance. And…” his words lingered as he watched her, “I don’t have a reason to take a load off and kick back as you say.” He hovered there, waiting for Octavia to give him a reason.

Octavia’s jaw locked. She reminded herself that she wasn’t ready, mentally, for anything serious with him. Her spontaneous dates were just that. Octavia had been floating from date to date for years. She’d gotten into a rhythm, and for her, it worked. Anything serious just reminded Octavia of her inability to deal with her parents’ death, and for now, Octavia would continue to shove everything into that jewelry box.

There was a knock at the door. “Hello, anybody home?” a voice rang out.

Octavia took the opening when it came. “Yes, come on in, we’re in the kitchen.”

Jonathon gave her a sideways glance and released her, taking long strides through the kitchen to the front door. Jonathon held out his hand, and a lanky tall Caucasian man accepted it for a shake.

“I’m Adam Fletcher,” the man said. Officer Davis opened the door and moved in behind him.

“I see you’ve met Adam,” Officer Davis said.

“Briefly,” Jonathon retorted.

“Can I call you Jonathon, or do you prefer Rose?”

“Jonathon will do.”

“Good.” Officer Davis turned to Adam. “Adam here will be your door man. We’re calling this stop station three. There’s a clipboard here with the names of all our volunteers. That includes anyone who’s working with us to find Ayana Bradwell.”

Octavia bent the corner with a long tray of warm bagels with crème cheese on a side dish.

“Ms. Davenport,” Officer Davis called. Octavia sat the tray down on her dining room table and made her way over to the men. “Do you mind if I call you Octavia?”

“Not at all.”

“Thank you, miss,” the officer said. “I was just telling Jonathon here that Adam will be your door man. He has all the names of the volunteers on this clipboard. Whenever someone enters, they should have a badge like this.” Officer Davis tugged at the badge Adam wore. It was a simple recyclable badge that said, ‘Hello my name is,’ with the recipient’s name written across it with a dry erase marker. “The badge will be stamped with Chicago PD’s seal on it. It lets you know that someone didn’t just walk into your home without clearance. Although our volunteers will be wearing this, Adam will also be checking their names off a list as a second line of defense, so to speak.”

“That’s good,” Octavia chirped with a warm smile.

“We have to cover all areas when it comes to safety. Don’t want anything happening out of order. We’ve got big fish to fry.” Officer Davis looked to Jonathon. “What time do you think your guys will be here?”

Jonathon flipped his wrists and checked his time. The squeal of breaks outside drew everyone’s attention. Jonathon stepped past the officer to peer out the screen door.

“Looks like them now,” Jonathon said.

“I didn’t expect them to get here so fast,” the officer said.

“It’s been a few hours, that’s all the time we need. What you’ll find out about Rose Security Group is the men are efficient, timely, and thorough. We move as a unit, and we see everything.”

“Sounds like the government,” Adam said with a flaky laugh.

“The men that makeup Rose Security come from a variety of backgrounds,” Jonathon informed. “Military being one of them.”

Six black stretch hummers with tinted windows pulled to a stop in front of Octavia’s house. The vehicles were so large they took up space in front of Octavia’s neighbors’ homes across the street and on the side of her house.

“We may have to have them park around the corner,” Officer Davis advised.

The doors opened, and the men stepped out, mostly dressed in camouflage gear with combat boots that covered their feet up to their ankles. Jonathon left the porch to meet the men as they gathered around Octavia’s yard. Officer Davis and Adam followed closely.

“Listen up,” Jonathon spoke. “This is a search and rescue mission. The same rules apply here as with every job. Officer Davis will break you up into groups of ten and give you an area to search. You stay together, keep an eye out on everything, including each other. I don’t have to tell you to keep your weapons locked and loaded. You know the rules of engagement. Keep your earpiece on the same channel. If you begin to spread apart, always send your location. Every twenty seconds that you’re out of eye shot from your comrade, send in your position.”

From the porch, Octavia looked on with admiration as Jonathon spoke.

“If you haven’t heard from a team member, and you’re in the same group, radio him. We don’t have time for mishaps. Let’s find Ayana Bradwell and bring her home safely.” Jonathon turned to Officer Davis. “I’ll let you take the floor, officer.”

“Thank you, Jonathon.” Officer Davis tugged at his belt buckle, pulling his pants to rise over his protruding stomach. “Hold this for me, Adam.” Officer Davis sat the briefcase in Adam’s outstretched arms and opened it. He pulled out a stack of folded maps and handed a load to Jonathon to pass out to the men on his left, as Officer Davis passed them out to the men on his right.

“This is our current area. The red marks are where we’ll be searching. I’ve separated you into color groups so that it will be easy for you to keep up with the members of your team, and it will help us with which party tagged what.”

The men opened the map, and they all stood tall and strong, silently accessing the blueprint. Officer Davis handed out blue, white, red, yellow, and green pads. He handed a few to Jonathon.

“These are your tags. If I could get you to all form groups of twenty, I’ll assign you a color.”

The men moved in order and quickly got into groups. Officer Davis watched with approval. There was no fighting, fussing, or trying to get in groups with people you know, like with his volunteers. Instead, the men were well organized, tapering off into segments as if they’d been previously assigned.

“You’ll each need a leader of your group.” Officer Davis walked to the edge of the lawn to the men standing in position waiting for further orders. “Who’s the leader of this group?”

A man in every group stepped forward in sync. Officer Davis continued to be in awe at their organization. He gave a tag to each of the group’s leaders as he walked down the line.

“If you see something suspicious, tag it. Don’t move it, or touch it unless it’s Ayana herself. Mark the area with your color-coded tags so we’ll know where to look or find the activity you found.” Officer Davis moved to stand in front of the men, and Jonathon stepped to his side.

“The areas circled with your color is the area you’ll search,” Jonathon said.

“As of right now, we have no plans to stop this pursuit when it gets dark. That doesn’t mean we won’t call it off at that time, but just in case, take flashlights,” Officer Davis said. He waved Adam over and pulled more items out of the case. “These glow sticks will be your markers at night should you come across suspicious activity. They are also color coordinated with your groups.”

Officer Davis and Jonathon handed out the glow sticks.

“For now,” Officer Davis said, “I’m only giving out a few. It is my belief that if it gets too late, and we are not successful in finding Ayana Bradwell, the search will most likely be called off and resumed the following day. If the late hour finds us, and you run out of sticks meet back at one of our set stations. This house is station three. There are fifteen stations marked on your maps in green. You can stop at either of them and find water, food, and shelter and a bathroom if need be. If you’re too far out to get to a shelter, there are pit stop portables, which most people call porta potties that are circled in purple with a PP logo stamp next to it.”

Officer Davis turned to Jonathon. “That’s about it for now. Do you have anything to add?”

“I think you covered it,” Jonathon said.

“All right, in that case, the search is ongoing, fellas. I need you to move your vehicles to Greenhouse Square Park. If you head straight down this street and make a left, you’ll come to a light, make another left, the park is on the right.”

“Move out,” Jonathon ordered.

The men turned and marched down the steps in an orderly fashion. Officer Davis turned to Octavia just as Jonathon walked toward her. Officer Davis closed his briefcase and took it off Adam’s hands.

“Octavia, I wanted to ask another favor of you,” Officer Davis said. He trudged up the steps to stand in front of her and Jonathon. “Our stations are all set up to receive phone calls from the public should anyone have tips or information about Ayana Bradwell’s disappearance. I would like to set up one here as well.”

“What would that entail, officer?” Octavia asked.

“I’ll be honest with you. You should consider getting a few friends over to help out. For some, answering calls and dealing with the public can be mentally exhausting. I can lend you Adam here and maybe one or two others, but because we need the grounds covered, I can’t do much to help you with more than that. If you’re not up to it, that’s okay, I understand. But just to let you know, after 9 p.m., the calls are rerouted to the department, so you’re not disturbed after hours.”

“O,” Jonathon said, washing a soothing hand down her back, “you don’t have to do this.”

Octavia offered up a small smile. “It shouldn’t be too bad, right?”

“Well, having a hotline could make you a target of prank calls but not much more. The location of the stations is only given out to volunteers, and those people are signed in at the department and checked.”

“O,” Jonathon said, grabbing her attention. Octavia glanced up at him. “You don’t have to do this.” He knew taking on a task like this could trigger the memories Octavia had worked so hard to move past. Jonathon was unaware that Octavia currently fought with them.

Octavia slid a hand down Jonathon’s arms until their fingers met. She smiled over at Officer Davis. “He’s always so worried about me.”

“And for good reason, I’m sure,” Officer Davis said.

Adam spoke up. “If my woman were as beautiful as you, I’d likely keep her chained inside the house.” He gave off another goofy hoot, and everyone gave him an inquisitive look. Neither Jonathon or Octavia bothered to correct his assumption that they were a couple.

“Did Mr. Fletcher get checked out?” Jonathon asked, referring to Adam. “Because he might just be holding someone hostage at his place.”

Adam’s grin dropped, and his yellow face turned pale. Officer Davis chuckled. “Adam’s all right,” he said. “Just has a dry sense of humor.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Adam defended. But Jonathon held a stern eye on Adam. He didn’t play games when it came to Octavia. Sensing this, Officer Davis spoke up again. “I’ll tell you what. For now, we’ll just disregard having the hotline set up.”

“Let’s do that,” Jonathon responded.

“Jonathon,” Octavia said, pulling his eye back to her. “Everything will be all right. You worry too much. I’m convinced it’s your line of business that has you this way.”

“Octavia, you’re doing enough.”

Octavia ignored him and turned back to Officer Davis. “I’ll do it.”