CHAPTER 5
Six months previously…
The man they all referred to as Bones eyed Cash critically. Bones had earned his name because the guy knew where the skeletons of every government player lived. Including, it was rumored, the President’s. When he was on a roll and being a real prick, the team referred to him as The Gravedigger.
“Sir? There a problem?” Cash had aced his performance tests and was itching to get back in the field. Idle time was not his friend. A former SEAL teammate had quietly paved the way for an invitation to join STORM, the elite covert-ops and security agency that had its tentacles embedded in some of the darkest cesspools on the planet. STORM operated a private security front for the wealthiest celebrities and businessmen. It naturally placed their operatives within earshot of the most influential people in the country. And STORM was always listening.
Bones steepled his fingers, resting his chin on the point, narrowing his gaze. “You’re a mixed bag, Deuce.” Bones insisted everyone in the organization use a code name.
“How so?” Cash’s pulse tripped. He needed this opportunity. Needed a gig like this to keep his focus sharp. He couldn’t afford to let his edges get dull. And traditional security had bored him to death.
“You have a brilliant mind. But your assessments are inconsistent. Sometimes you apply sharp tactical maneuvers. Other times…” Bones shrugged easily. “You react.”
“Isn’t that the point, sir? To respond automatically?”
Bones pursed his lips. “Response without thinking often leads to mistakes. And STORM can’t afford mistakes.”
“You can count on me, sir.”
“Can I?” Bones arched a brow.
“Absolutely. My military record is spotless. I–”
“Yes, yes.” Bones waved a hand. “I’ve read every word in your file. You’re quite the hero.”
Except when he wasn’t, a snaky doubt-filled voice in his head responded. Cash brushed the doubt aside. So he’d choked when he was eleven. Big deal. He’d been a kid. He’d never choked since. Not once. He’d made sure of it. “Then you’ll know you can count on me in the most extreme situations, sir.”
“Those aren’t the situations I’m worried about, son.”
“I don’t follow.”
“That’s what concerns me. As a member of STORM, even the simplest assignments are vital. To both our reputation and our intel. If either of those are compromised, the entire organization is put at risk. I’ve seen more than one talented agent wash out because he assumed. It’s the assignments that look easy which are the hardest.”
“I can assure you, sir. I can handle any assignment you give me with the utmost professionalism. I won’t let you down.”
“Let’s hope so.” Bones handed him a manila envelope. “Your first assignment is inside. Report to the sit room in twenty minutes for a full briefing.”
Cash gave a silent fist pump. He was in. This first assignment would be a test, but he’d pass it with flying colors. Twenty minutes later, he slipped into the sit room, nodding at the three other men present. He tossed the dossier onto the long conference table and helped himself to a water bottle before dropping into a seat. He made eye-contact with the other men. “I’m Cash.”
A light-haired man with a buzz-cut eyed him sharply. “Code names only, Deuce.”
Cash pulled back. “How’d you–”
“Let’s just say I’m Bones’ eyes and ears on this assignment.”
Damn. STORM didn’t fool around. “Got it, sir.”
The man’s mouth tightened. “No need for that. Just call me Ace.”
Of course. “Got it, Ace.”
Ace acknowledged the other two men. “That’s Guns, and he’s Ten.”
“Sniper?”
Guns smiled tightly. “Something like that.”
Cash squirmed uncomfortably. Not exactly the team environment he’d expected. These guys were cold as ice. But no bother. He bet things would change once he’d proved himself. The door swung open and Bones strode in, sweeping his gaze across the table and bringing it to rest on him. “There’s a plane out at the airport waiting to fly you to Nashville. When you arrive at Ms. Starr’s estate, you’ll relieve the local security company. Do a perimeter sweep and then no one goes in or out without photo ID that matches the list in your folder. Checkpoint one will be at the drive. Checkpoint two at the front door. All other entrances have been secured. We’ll employ a two-point check system at the residence until the stalker is detained.”
“Sir?” Cash raised a finger. “When do you expect him to make a move?”
Bones narrowed his gaze. “How do we know it’s a man?”
“This has all the classic–”
Bones shook his head, cutting him off. “It does. But this is what I meant earlier about assuming. With that attitude you’d be more likely to let a woman slip past. Until we have definitive evidence, everyone is a threat.”
Cash’s stomach dropped like a stone and his cheeks grew hot. “Understood.”
Bones looked around the room. “Any other questions?”
The other three shook their heads.
“Everyone clear about their roles?”
They all nodded.
“The opening concert is in two days at Nissan Stadium. We’ve pulled in local security to assist.” Bones lasered in on him. “Getting back to your question, I do expect our stalker to make an appearance at the stadium. To capitalize on the chaos. Be on your guard. Assume nothing. Dismissed.” Bones strode out of the room without a backward glance.
* * *
Simply put, Kaycee Starr stole Cash’s breath. She swept into the expansive living room where they’d assembled the band members, groundskeepers, Helene Montgomery – an older, harder version of her daughter, and Kaycee’s agent Franco DiAngelo. She flashed them all a smile. She was taller than he’d imagined. Maybe five-eight. But it was her heavily made-up eyes that captivated him, soft and deep green as the forest behind the trailer he’d grown up in. Made him want to reach out and pull her into the protective circle of his arms. She hadn’t been sleeping. He could see it in the way her eyes pinched at the corners, the slight hint of red at the bottom of the whites. And the way her shoulders pulled tight when she glanced at the four giant men dominating the room.
“Thank you for coming,” she said softly, a musical lilt to her voice. “I know this is a pain, but until–”
A woman his ID sheet listed as Cheyenne waved her off. “Whatever it takes, Kayce.” She looked around the room. “Your safety comes first.”
The band nodded. Helene Montgomery’s mouth tightened into a flat line. Kaycee turned to Ace. “What do we need to know moving forward?”
Ace cleared his throat. “No one comes in or goes out without checking in both at the front door, and the gate. Keep your IDs with you at all times. I don’t care if it’s your girlfriend or the pizza man. If they’re not on the list, they’re not coming in, and they won’t be backstage.”
Kaycee’s face clouded. “But we have a backstage VIP party for the fans scheduled. Radio personalities, and a photo shoot.”
Ace shook his head. “Not anymore you don’t.”
Franco DiAngelo stood. “You’re a security company, not a concert promoter. You can’t tell us how to run the concert.”
Ace bristled. “We’ve been hired to keep Ms. Starr safe. Do you want a party or do you want your talent killed?”
A collective gasp rippled through the group.
“Surely we can reach some kind of compromise,” Kaycee pleaded. “My fans have waited months. I can’t let them down.”
Ace’s brows pulled together. “Do you know these people? How do you know one of them isn’t your stalker?”
Kaycee paled, mouth turning down. “I don’t. But there are little girls… We can’t, I won’t let them down.”
Cash’s mind raced, and he pulled Ace aside, not wanting to challenge his authority in front of the group. “How long would it take to run background checks on a few families?”
“We’re talking thirty, maybe forty people. That’s a solid day’s work for one of our people.” Ace answered sternly. “I can’t pull them off their current caseload for a party.”
Cash glanced back at Kaycee. She chewed on a full lower lip, eyes full of determination. Something about the way she held herself struck a chord deep inside him. Like she carried far more than just the worry of a fan gone too far. “What if I ran them?”
Ace flashed him an incredulous look.
“I’m serious. What if I ran them?”
“Are you aware of how many hours it will take? We’d have to set up an encrypted IP, and somehow patch you into STORM’s server.”
“Not if we used cell service instead of wi-fi.”
Ace glared at him. “This is outside of the parameters of our job.”
Cash flashed him a cocky grin. “Sometimes the battle plan has to be adjusted on the fly. And if our stalker is on the list, better to flesh him out in a room where the exits are controlled.”
“Better to keep him or her away from Ms. Starr entirely.”
“Don’t you think it will alert whoever’s behind this that we’re onto them if we don’t allow a VIP reception? The radio personalities won’t talk about the concert the next day, they’ll talk about how the fan party was shut down. She has a point, Ace.”
Ace’s jaw tightened. “I don’t like this, but I’ll talk to Bones.” He turned to Kaycee. “We’ve potentially come up with a solution. But I will need the names, social security numbers and license numbers of every person you’ve invited to your party no later than seven a.m. tomorrow.”
Kaycee turned the full force of her soft green eyes on Cash, flashing him a grateful smile. Warmth tickled his chest as if he’d been in the sun a little too long. He dragged his gaze from her. It wouldn’t do to get caught staring at their client his first day on the job.
The next two days rushed by in a flurry of activity. Ace had insisted he run background checks off shift, which meant long days and even longer nights. Cash stifled a yawn as he took up his position outside Kaycee’s dressing room door. Kaycee’d already given six interviews that day. The STORM team had accompanied her to two radio stations and a local TV affiliate running a morning show. He’d been surprised at how she treated everyone she met with patience and kindness. Not like some of the celebrities he’d shadowed at a previous security job before he’d been invited to apply for STORM. He checked his watch and rapped a knuckle on the door. “Ms. Starr? It’s time for me to escort you to the green room.”
The door flew open, startling him. Not from the speed at which she answered, but from the fact that she looked like a unicorn had vomited sparkles from the crown of her white spangled cowboy hat, down the white iridescent guitar, to the tips of her rhinestone boots. It must have shown on his face, because she laughed, a warm husky sound that slid underneath his professional shell and flipped his stomach. “I look pretty funny, huh?”
He coughed, smothering a laugh. “Not even a Vegas strip club has that much glitter.”
Her eyes grew round and worried. “I don’t look like a stripper, do I?”
This time he couldn’t cover the laugh. God, he hoped Ace wasn’t watching right now. “Not remotely.”
“Whew. My momma already thinks my career is scandalous. I’d hate to give her a heart attack over my costume.”
She was too damned charming. Adorable. And there was something about Kaycee’s soft-spoken barely-there twang that intrigued him. Made him want to listen to her talk all night. “You look… like a country star,” he finished lamely. He’d nearly called her beautiful. Which wasn’t right, not with the cartoonish makeup and costume. Nor was it professional, but the words had popped into his head.
She laid a hand on his arm. “Tell me your name?” she asked in that sweet husky lilt.
His name rose to his tongue, followed by a vision of Ace glowering. Was this a test? He wouldn’t put it past Ace to test him, see if he’d slip. Brushing aside a wave of annoyance, he gazed into her eyes. “Deuce. The name’s Deuce.”
“Deuce,” she said slowly, adding two syllables to the name as she drew it out. “Y’all like your card names, don’tcha? Y’all play five-card stud when you’re off duty?” He swallowed, mouth going dry at the way she lingered over the word stud. What in the hell was happening to him?
She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Well, Deuce in the fancy suit, I wanted to thank you.”
In spite of the glitter, he felt himself getting pulled under by her big green eyes. “What for?”
“If it hadn’t been for you, a lot of little girls and their mommas would be really upset. You went above and beyond, and I appreciate it.”
Her praise went straight to his belly like a shot of whiskey. “Let’s go,” he answered gruffly. What else could he say? She was a client, and he’d move onto the next assignment as soon as her stalker was caught. But that knowledge didn’t stop him from appreciating her gorgeous ass as she sashayed down the hall in front of him.