Chapter One

 

 

In a small conference room at the Miami Thunder Dome, JR Maddox looked over the blueprints of the stadium. He glanced at the assistant security director, Paul Anderson, and wondered briefly at the banked aggression in the older man’s eyes. Then he decided he didn’t care what Anderson thought. Maddox put his attention on Tyler Dare, owner of Double Down Security and younger brother to the CEO of the team. “It looks like you have things under control,” Maddox said. “Not sure why you need me.”

“Your brother said you were one of the best in threat assessment,” Anderson said, his tone full of challenge. Maddox had gotten the impression at the start, from that knuckle-crushing handshake the older man had given upon greeting, that his presence here wasn’t welcomed by all. Certainly not by Anderson.

Maddox folded his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels. He stared at the older man for a few seconds. He’d been around guys like this during his Army days. Sometimes they were subordinates with delusions of grandeur; more often they were superiors who couldn’t find their asses with both hands but thought if they postured enough no one else would know.

When Anderson’s eyes darted down and to the side, showing his discomfort at Maddox’s silence, Maddox gave him an abbreviated resume of his qualifications. “I spent twenty years in the Army, fifteen of those as a Green Beret. The last seven I’ve spent self-employed providing threat assessments to various Fortune 500 companies.” He paused, waiting until Anderson met his gaze, before he added, “None of my clients have had cause for complaint.”

Tyler grinned. “Just what we want to hear, eh, Paul?”

The older man twisted his wrist to glance at his watch. Then he seemed to become even more agitated and said, “Look, this meeting is eating up valuable time. Is there a point to it?”

Tyler’s face lost its good nature. “Guess you haven’t been listening, Paul. Maddox here is going to perform a threat assessment not just on the stadium, especially after the storm damage repairs and in light of mass shootings throughout the country, but he’s also going to assess the severity of the threat to Keaton. And determine if it goes beyond him to any other players.”

“There’s no threat to Keaton or the others,” Anderson muttered. “It’s all an overreaction by a typical, hysterical woman.”

Tyler sat back in his chair. Maddox watched the interaction between the two men. If he were a betting man, he’d lay good odds that Tyler was going to come out on top of this altercation.

“You’re calling Bellamy hysterical?” Tyler asked. He stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing his ankles, and those dark blue Dare eyes fixed on Anderson with an icy stare. “She has training and experience as a Miami cop and is one of the most level-headed people I know. I’ve never even seen her break a sweat on the job, let alone react hysterically. Why would you say that?”

As Anderson opened his mouth to respond, the door flung open and the most beautiful woman Maddox had ever laid eyes on stood there with one slender hand on the knob. The other hand held a pile of folders against her chest. Dark auburn hair was piled on top of her head in what looked to him to be a rather haphazard bun. Green eyes narrowed on Anderson. If Maddox had to guess, the older man was in trouble for something. From her body language, he could tell she was one pissed-off woman. He slowly got to his feet, vaguely aware that Tyler did as well but that Anderson did not.

“Sorry I’m late, gentlemen,” she said, swinging her gaze to Tyler and then to him. A smile softened her face, and she moved toward him, hand outstretched. “Mr. Maddox? I’m Bellamy York, Director of Security.”

He stood and shook her hand, admiring the strength of her grip juxtaposed with the softness of her skin. “Ms. York.”

“Bellamy, please,” she murmured. She shook hands with Tyler and said, “It’s good to see you again, Tyler.”

“You, too,” he said, taking his seat again. “Maddox has just given his seal of approval on our security plans.”

Her smile widened. “Excellent!” She pulled out a chair at the small conference table and sat down, placing her pile of folders to one side. It was then he saw an electronic tablet resting on top of the folders.

Maddox resumed his seat and studied her as she pulled the blueprint closer. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, with the freckled peaches and cream complexion of a true redhead, but if she had the kind of experience Tyler indicated, she was older than she looked.

He’d always been partial to blondes, but this woman, with her fresh, open face and willowy curves, called to him.

On every level.

“So now that the retractable roof is fixed, we can resume training on the field,” she said. “I think security as normal there. But it’s this potential stalker issue we have with Daryl Keaton that has me concerned.”

“Stalker,” Anderson scoffed. “He got a note from a fan is all, and you overreacted.”

Bellamy’s lips thinned, and Maddox saw her nostrils flare slightly with her indrawn breath. “You know Keaton’s received several notes, Paul, not one,” she said, her voice taut. “And, for your information, when someone you don’t know writes about having your babies, that’s not normal fan adoration. That’s someone with mental health issues. There’s potential for this to escalate.”

Anderson’s face mottled, and he opened his mouth to respond.

Maddox jumped in. “She’s right.”

The security chief transferred his glare to Maddox.

“Paul, you can go,” Bellamy told the older man. “I can handle things from here.”

He looked like he was going to argue, but then backed down. He shoved out of his chair and left the room without another word, slamming the door behind him.

“He wasn’t attending the meeting in your place, was he?” Tyler’s gaze darted to Maddox before he looked again at Bellamy. “He’s still pulling that crap?” he asked.

“Crap?” Maddox asked. From what Tyler had told him, he’d known that Anderson was the second in command, but he hadn’t known there was dissention in the ranks. That could be detrimental to the efficacy of any security plans they put in place.

Bellamy waved a hand in dismissal. “I can handle Paul,” was all she said. Looking at Maddox, she said, “I could use your expertise, though, on this matter of the stalker. No matter what Paul thinks, I believe it’s a credible threat. I know the rudimentary steps to take, but I’d appreciate your input on what else we need to do.”

“And on that, I’m out,” Tyler said and pushed away from the table. He stood and walked toward the door, pausing beside Bellamy. With his hand on her shoulder, he said, “This guy will take good care of you.”

Maddox saw his fingers tighten in a light squeeze, then Tyler Dare was gone.

Bellamy sighed and rolled her eyes. When she rolled them back his way, they were full of challenge. “Let’s get one thing straight, okay? I don’t need you to ‘take good care of me’.” She leaned forward and tapped one finger on the conference table. “Regardless of what Paul Anderson may think, I am a professional. I’m competent and quite capable of doing this job even if I don’t have a dick.”

Maddox raised his brows. And his hands. “Hey, look, I didn’t say a word. I have no problem with you being dickless.”

She sat back in her chair. She heaved a sigh and started to run a hand through her hair but stopped when she encountered the bun. With a grimace she pulled something from her hair and the bun unraveled, leaving her gorgeous red hair to spill down her back. He glanced at her hand to see she held a pencil.

How did women do that? Bellamy had used a pencil to hold her hair in a bun. He bit back a grin, sure she wouldn’t appreciate his sense of humor at the moment.

“Sorry.” She shook her head. “I’m…sorry. This stalker thing has me on edge, and Paul’s attitude is just about to send me over.” She straightened and took a deep breath. “But that’s not your problem.” She grabbed the tablet and powered it on. As they waited, she said, “You’ll see from one of the notes that the stalker has been in the same room as Keaton. It was at a fundraising event that had about five hundred people. We’ve been through the security footage and guest list, and no one jumped out at us as a viable suspect. I’ve assigned a couple of guys to stay with Keaton twenty-four-seven, so no one can get to him without going through them first. What else do we need to do?”

“I’d like to see the notes from the stalker, if you still have them.”

“Sure thing.” She tapped on the tablet and he saw a file come to life on the screen. “God dammit,” she muttered. She looked at him and apologized. “I’d scanned them onto my tablet, but they’re not here now. I have paper copies in my office.” She stood. “Come with me. Please.”

Maddox got to his feet. With a sweeping gesture, he murmured, “After you.” As she turned and walked out of the room, he followed her, eyes on the delectable, swaying ass put on display by her dark trousers.

They went through a doorway into a large room with several desks, set up like a bullpen. He counted six, two of which were occupied. Paul Anderson sat at one of the desks with what Maddox was beginning to believe was a perpetual scowl on his lined face. A younger man sat behind a desk against the far wall, near a glass door that had the words Server Room etched in the glass. His head came up when he heard their entrance.

“Yancy, this is JR Maddox, the threat assessment expert I told you about,” Bellamy said. “Mr. Maddox, this is Yancy Cartwright, our IT Security Manager.”

“It’s just Maddox,” he responded and walked over to shake Cartwright’s hand. The younger man stood, giving a firm grip to Maddox’s hand before taking his seat again. “I’d like to look over your security protocols later, if you don’t mind.”

“Mind?” Cartwright’s green eyes widened. “I would’ve insisted if you hadn’t brought it up. I mean, I’m good at my job, if I do say so myself, but the extent of my experience has been here, at the Thunder Dome. I’m always open to different perspectives.”

“Maybe you can make some time for Maddox first thing tomorrow morning?” Bellamy asked.

“Sure.” Cartwright tapped on the keyboard. “I have a meeting scheduled with the IT staff at nine, but that can be pushed back.” He looked up at Maddox. “First thing for me is seven. That too early for you?”

Maddox raised a brow. “I’m usually at work by six. Slacker.”

Cartwright grinned, the expression knocking years off his face. Maddox would have guessed him to be early to mid-thirties, but now he looked like he was about twelve. What was it with these Thunder employees? Was there something in the water, or was he just getting old?

“See you tomorrow at seven,” Cartwright said.

Maddox nodded and turned toward Bellamy, who gave a jerk of her head and began walking toward an open doorway. Following her through it into another office, he saw a young woman standing behind an elevated desk, eyes on her computer screen. She looked over and smiled. “You must be the man himself, JR Maddox. Everyone’s been talking about you for days.”

“Hope I live up to my billing,” he murmured.

Twinkling eyes looked him up and down. “No complaints from where I’m standing.”

“Laura!” Bellamy turned to Maddox, her peaches and cream complexion becoming more like strawberries and cream. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t bring you here to be sexually harassed,” she stressed with a glare at the other woman.

Laura rolled her eyes. Then she heaved a sigh. “You’re right. Sorry,” she said to Maddox. “I’m married to one of the linemen, so I’m around the boys quite a bit. Their…lack of couth apparently rubs off.”

“No worries. I took it as a compliment.” Maddox grinned then looked at Bellamy. “The letters?” he prompted.

“Right.” She opened another door and went into an inner office. “Laura,” she asked, “would you call down and see if Keaton’s here? If he is, find out if he can come talk to me for a few minutes.”

“Will do,” the other woman responded.

Maddox looked around Bellamy’s office, hoping to get more information about this woman by what she surrounded herself with. As she took a seat behind her desk, he circled the small office, looking at wall plaques and decorative do-dads. Pictures of two older adults stood in frames placed on a side table.

“Those are my parents,” she told him quietly.

“They live here?” he asked, moving on to a framed diploma. College degree, Bachelor’s in Criminal Justice. Next to that a framed commendation from the Miami police department.

“Yeah.” In her voice was a wealth of affection. “Mom does a lot of volunteer work. She’s busy still with the after-after effects of the hurricane. Helping people move from transitional housing mostly. Dad’s a senior partner at Manchester, York & Knox.”

Maddox glanced over at her. He’d heard of her father’s law firm. They primarily represented big corporations and big wig celebrities. She came from money. It surprised him that she’d become a police officer and then went into security work.  “How’d you end up on the force?” he asked, going over to a bookcase and picking up a jade Buddha.

“You’re wondering why I didn’t just sponge off Daddy?”

He set down the Buddha and faced her. “Not what I asked.”

She blew out a sigh. “Sorry.” A small laugh followed. “I seem to be doing that a lot to you, apologizing, that is, and today’s only our first day together.”

“Why is that, d’you suppose?” He took a seat in a plump armchair in front of her desk.

She stared down at her desk a moment before saying, “I guess Paul is getting to me more than I thought he was.” She looked at him. “He keeps hinting…Hell,” she said with a bark of angry laughter, “he outright tells me I’m incompetent to be the head of security for a major league football team because I’m a woman.”

Maddox had been around a lot of strong women in his life, starting with his mother and sisters. His mom was dead, rest her soul, but his sisters were just like their mom, full of sass and vinegar. It ratcheted up his sense of feminist outrage when he heard women being belittled just because of their anatomy. “You have to know he’s an idiot,” he said of Anderson.

Bellamy looked startled for a minute then relaxed, and a more genuine laugh came from her. “You’re right, of course. I know I’m competent. It’s just sour grapes on his part. He was passed over for the job.” She bent to one side and opened a desk drawer, pulling out a manila file folder. “But I’m sorry I keep taking it out on you.”

“Have you disciplined him? You are his boss, after all.” If Anderson reported to him, his ass would’ve been canned by now. “Actually, with what he pulled today and that attitude of his, I’m surprised he’s still here.”

She shook her head with a sigh. “He’s been here a long time—twenty-five years. Ian Dare, the CEO of the organization… You’ve met him?” At his brief nod she went on. “Ian wants me to try to find a way to bring Paul around, but I don’t know if that’s gonna happen. He thought, by virtue of longevity, he should get the director job. But Ian felt that, with my law enforcement background, I’d be the better choice.”

“I suspect Anderson is a by-the-book man who hasn’t learned to operate beyond being a security guard.”

She blew out another sigh. “I’ve had formal meetings with him where I’ve outlined the problems very clearly. At the last one I told him I’d suspend him if he kept it up. I can do that since we don’t have a progressive discipline policy,” she added as if she were concerned he’d think she was skipping steps.

“Looks like you’ve got another meeting coming, then.” He wanted to tell her she should have someone in the meeting with her as a witness, another manager would be best, but he didn’t want to mansplain something that she, as a manager dealing with a difficult employee, would be aware of.

“Yes, well, again, not your problem, and yet here I am still talking about it.”

He shrugged. “I’m the one who brought it up. But if you feel guilty, you can make it up to me by having dinner with me tonight.” The words were out of his mouth before he’d really had a chance to think about them, and once they were out, he couldn’t take them back. Then he realized he didn’t want to take them back. She was a beautiful, intelligent woman who had a background similar to his, though his was military and hers civilian.

She looked startled for a moment before her lips curved into a smile he felt in his dick. “I’d love to,” she said.

“Great. Text me your address, and I’ll pick you up at six. Unless you think we’ll be at this a while, then we could just go from here.”

“This won’t take long.” She flipped open the folder and swung it around on the desk. “These are photocopies of the stalker letters. The police have the originals.”

Maddox pulled the file closer. With a grimace, he pulled his reading glasses out of the inner pocket of his suitcoat and slipped them on. All of the letters were typed, so no handwriting analysis could be done, and it looked like they were typed and printed via computer rather than a typewriter. He flipped through them quickly, seeing that none of them were signed, then went back to the first note.

It read: You played a great game, Derek. I enjoyed the interview you did with the sportscaster afterward. You told him you didn’t have much time to do more than practice and play during the season, but I know your schedule. You can make time for me.

The second note was more disturbing than the first: I know you didn’t want to take that short, fat Latina to the gala. I bet it was that security bitch’s idea. She had to work, so she made you take someone she knew you wouldn’t be attracted to. I was upset about it until our eyes met across the room. Even though there were so many people in the room, I know you were looking at me. It was exciting. I can’t wait until we can declare our love to the world.

Maddox looked up at Bellamy. “She’s turned her vitriol on you?” The muscles in his shoulders and neck went rigid. He clenched his teeth as he stared at the letter, as if it would tell him more than the words actually printed on paper.

“I’ve been around him more, so she sees me as a threat, and not just because I’m trying to keep her away from him. She sees me as a rival, I guess.” She shrugged. “She clearly has mental health issues.”

“Yeah, I’d say so.” He glanced back down at the note. “Does he have any idea who this is? Since she indicates they made eye contact.”

“He has no idea. Neither do I. I was there that night and tried to stay close by, but no one jumped out at me as creepy.”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “She might not act creepy out in public. This fantasy is all in her head, and that’s where it’ll stay until she thinks she has an opening, or until the fantasy is no longer sufficient.”

Another letter read: I love you more than she does. We’d be so good together. Our babies would be beautiful.

“Who’s the ‘she’ in this one?” he asked.

Bellamy’s full lips pursed. “Either me or Gloria, the young Latina he’s been dating.”

“The ‘short, fat’ one that first letter described?”

She nodded. “She is short, only about five-three or so, but she’s certainly not fat. I’d say curvy. Not all of us can be rail-thin supermodels,” she added with a gesture to herself and her own curves.

“I prefer women who give me something to hold onto,” Maddox told her. “At the risk of sounding chauvinistic, men are hard, women should be soft. Or at least not have bones sticking out. It can make for some uncomfortable intimate encounters.”

She merely gave him that sultry smile again.

Laura came to the door and said, “Keaton’s not here today. I’ve left him a message to see if he can make some time to meet you tomorrow,” she said to Maddox.

“Thanks.” As the administrative assistant turned and went back to her desk, he took off his readers and replaced them in his suitcoat pocket. “Has Keaton gotten any text messages, emails, or other social media contact from this person?”

Bellamy shook her head. “Not that I’m aware. He knows he’s supposed to forward them to me if he does.”

Maddox gave a nod. “I’d like to be in that loop, too,” he told her.

“No problem.”

He stood and closed the folder, pushing it across the desk so it was once again in front of Bellamy. She stood, too, and he held out his hand. When she placed hers in his much larger grasp, he curled his fingers around hers gently. “You have my number,” he reminded her. “Text me your address, and I’ll see you at seven.”

Her tongue swiped across her lower lip and she nodded. “Will do,” she said in a husky voice.

He smiled and rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. “Looking forward to it,” he said, somewhat surprised that he was. “You okay with Sullivan Street Steakhouse?” At her nod, he let go of her hand. “See you later.” Making his way out of her office he realized that, for the first time in more years than he wanted to count, his footsteps were light, his demeanor one of anticipation.

He had a feeling this was going to turn out to be more than just a job. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that, but time would tell.