Slater

With Emerson at the wheel, I flipped through the file once again, even though I had already been through every detail a dozen times. This was too important a client and they were in some real danger, which was why we had a full security detail and were even working with the local police department and the FBI.

Elena Rutherford of the Rutherford fortune, and her daughter Isabelle.

Hell…as much as the Rutherfords were worth, we not only had every available body on the job, but had also pooled all our resources, though some would be working behind the scenes. Luckily, every one of us would be partnered up, and we’d be on a steady rotation.

But for now? We were heading to the Rutherford estate to meet up with the current security team that had escorted Elena and Isabelle here to Seattle from their London home.

The file had a list of the threats they’d already received, and though there was enough here to have anyone worried, more worrisome was the fact that things seemed to be escalating. Rants about the inequality and injustices of the world had turned into explicit threats, though whoever was sending them had been smart enough to keep everything generic. It was clear they were upset about how much money the Rutherfords had when the sender was forced to struggle, accusing the family of being unfair and unscrupulous in their business practices.

But so far, there had been no way to track down who was sending the threats. They may amount to nothing, but we weren’t taking any chances, and with luck, the move from London to Seattle might just be enough to put an end to this, though there was no guarantee that the threat had originated overseas to begin with.

The mansion that sat perched atop the hill just beyond the secured gates was massive and damn impressive. It’s not as if my family didn’t have more than its fair share of wealth, but this wasn’t the sort of money you made in a lifetime. This was the sort of wealth that was accumulated over centuries and passed down from generation to generation, with wealth begetting even more wealth. There was no other way anyone would be able to afford an estate this size in such a prestigious suburb of Seattle, where prices were already at a premium.

Our IDs were all checked at the gate before we were allowed to pass, as the guard radioed up to the house to let the team there know we were on our way. I ignored the tension in my shoulders as we continued up the winding driveway that ended in a cul-de-sac so that drivers could leave their passengers at the front entrance before continuing off to the carriage house, which sat off in the distance. Of course, that had been converted into a garage, though it retained all the old charm and details original to the home.

Emerson, who was in charge of this operation and had already ironed out the details with the current security team, led the way, taking us to a side entrance, where we were met with the two men in charge of the current security detail. Emerson shook their hands as the rest of us fell back, letting the exchange happen. “Thanks for holding down the fort until we could get here.”

“I’m Rollins, and this here is Pritchett. Can’t say we aren’t happy to see you so we can get this exchange underway.” His English accent sounded precise and formal, like he’d spent years guarding English nobility. “Looking forward to getting back home and taking a bit of a break.”

I wasn’t sure that his enthusiasm to be off the job boded well for us, given that Elena Rutherford’s reputation had preceded her. She could be more than a little difficult and trying on the best of days, and too often didn’t want to listen to what anyone else had to say—even if it put her in danger. But we were all up for the challenge, and I was lucky enough to be on Isabelle’s detail, along with my cousin, Colton, rather than Elena’s. Not that watching the daughter of an heiress would necessarily be much better than watching the heiress herself.

To be honest, I was half expecting a spoiled brat of a girl, used to getting her way and looking her nose down at everyone. I could be mistaken, but if she was anything like her mother, then I didn’t have high hopes.

The last of the details were ironed out with Rollins and Pritchett, who then led the way to introduce us to the heiress and her daughter. As we walked through the home, it was damn hard not to be impressed by the sheer size and opulence of it all, built in a day when labor was cheap, and one’s fortune was meant to be put on display for all the world to see.

The floors were all of beautiful polished marble, stretching out as far as the eye could see, and the walls were all elaborately paneled and carved, the details accentuated with gold foil, while enormous paintings and sculptures adorned the place. But it was the ceilings that were true masterpieces, embellished with intricate geometric designs, the detailed plasterwork then painted to enhance every little detail.

I couldn’t imagine how much it would now cost to replicate something like this. Not that it hadn’t cost a fortune even back then. And to think, this had actually been just one of many residences that the Rutherfords had built—their summer home, as it were, since summers in Seattle were mild, and even sunny.

We walked into a massive sitting room, which despite its size felt remarkably cozy, in part due to the wall of bookshelves and the comfortably worn leather furniture that surrounded a massive marble fireplace. A roaring fire warmed the room as light poured in from the towering French doors and windows, dappling the quarter-sawn oak floors and Persian rugs, taking what could have been a dark and overbearing room, and leaving it feeling far more inviting.

Though Elena stood by the windows that overlooked the landscaped yard, demanding one’s attention, my eyes drifted to Isabelle, who was sitting on the sofa by the fireplace, looking like she was hoping for a bit of warmth that might never come, despite the blaze mere feet away. Her green eyes looked forlorn, and I couldn’t remember anyone looking so alone, despite being in a room full of people. Yet she was also breathtakingly beautiful, her blazing red hair playing up the carefree freckles that danced across her milky skin. And though I forced myself to focus on my job, it was damn hard when my gaze kept drifting back to Isabelle.

Rollins was the one who made the introductions, though it was clear that the heiress wasn’t all that interested, given that we were clearly nothing more than the help. She waved us away with a flourish of her hand, her fingers adorned with rings so heavy, I was surprised she was able to lift her hand at all. And when she spoke, it was with the poshest of English accents. “Well, I do certainly hope that this team will be adequate, given the threats that have been made. The authorities—both here and in London—have been useless in finding out who’s behind all this. I don’t how much longer I can deal with this interference in my life. No one seems to understand that I have things to do, and I can’t keep altering my schedule just because some psychopath keeps slipping under everyone’s noses.”

Emerson stepped forward to address her concerns, clearly not bothered by her demeanor. “We’re in touch with both the local authorities and the FBI, and they’ll be keeping us up to date on the situation. But until this is sorted and the perpetrator is caught, we’re here to keep you and your daughter safe.”

“I would hope so. After all, it’s what I’m paying you for, isn’t it?” Her tone was pompous and obnoxious, making me question my decision to join my cousins’ security firm instead of working at my family’s whiskey distillery. “My daughter, Isabelle, will be staying here in Seattle, since she insists on dabbling in that lab of hers, though it’s beyond me why she’s wasting her time, when she could leave things to the scientists who know better. I, on the other hand, will be flying back to London in just a week or two, with any luck—and the sooner the better.”

That was an understatement.