Deadly Intuition (Hardy Brothers Security Book 2) (4 page)

BOOK: Deadly Intuition (Hardy Brothers Security Book 2)
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Six

The offices of Hardy Brothers Security were empty and silent.

Finn had left hours ago, mentioning something about stopping at a local pool hall for a few games before he skedaddled. James was somewhere on the second floor playing nursemaid for a still-recovering Mandy. She’d actually managed to eat something today – and James was upstairs pretending she’d cured cancer or something. Grady found it both cute and creepy.

Grady liked Mandy. He did. He liked the way she’d brightened his brother’s life, how he was always smiling now. What he didn’t understand was how settled James seemed.

Before Mandy came along, James, Finn, and Grady were a joint unit. They worked together. They played together. Heck, they trolled for women together. None of them had been looking to settle down and stick with one woman.

Now, on the rare occasions James joined his brothers for a drink or a night out, there wasn’t a woman at the bar who could turn his head, let alone engage him in any mindless flirting. He was taken. Completely, totally, inexplicably taken.

It was baffling.

Grady was sitting at James’ desk, playing around on his laptop. He checked a few of his regular websites. He liked TMZ so he could keep up on the celebrity gossip, TV Guide so he knew what he wanted to watch on television that week, and even the Drudge Report for national news.

When he clicked over to one of the local television news stations, a red text crawl caught his attention. He clicked on the news story as color drained from his face. One of the perky blondes from Channel 2 popped on his screen.

“Macomb County police are investigating gunfire outside of the county building this evening. The incident occurred shortly after ten, minutes after a tempestuous county-commission meeting ended. Sheriff Aaron Morgan was on the scene within seconds. He indicated that it appeared to be the work of local gang members, but a full investigation will be launched due to the fact that a local reporter from the Daily Tribune was injured during the incident. This situation is fluid, and we’re dispatching a crew to the scene right now. We’ll keep you updated with further developments. Check back at eleven for an update.”

Grady’s heart dropped to his stomach. He had an idea who the Daily Tribune reporter was.

I don’t care. She’s not interested in me, and you’re definitely not interested in her. She’s rude, crude, and has way too much attitude.

He was on his feet, keys in hand, before he even finished the thought. He was just going to make sure she was okay. It was nothing more.

The problem was, he wasn’t sure he actually believed that.

Hardy Brothers Security is located in Sterling Heights, so it took Grady almost fifteen minutes to get to the county building. Because the area was taped off, he had to park further down on Main Street and walk to the crime scene. By the time he got there, he was on edge.

At least three news vans were parked on the street, antennas extended, and the city was bustling for that time of night. This was going to be big news at eleven. Grady didn’t care about them, though. He was looking for a specific face. When he found it, he couldn’t stop the relieved breath from escaping his lungs.

Sophie was standing in the middle of the melee, hands on hips, yelling at a deputy as he attempted to question her. There was a bandage on her arm, some scattered blood cascading down her bare skin, and an infuriated expression on her face. Whoever had given her first aid had ripped the sleeve of her blouse to get at the wound, leaving tattered shreds to blow in the wind. She didn’t look seriously hurt, although she did looked seriously angry. She looked seriously hot, too.
Dammit!

You’ve done your diligence. She’s fine. You’ve seen her. Go home.

Grady didn’t listen to his own advice. Instead, he remained standing at the edge of the crime scene, willing Sophie to look in his direction. When she finally did, Grady’s heart thumped in an exaggerated roll.

Sophie said something else to the deputy and then made her way over to him. “What are you doing here?”

Grady’s mouth was dry. He wasn’t sure how to answer the question. “I was driving by and saw the hoopla. I just wanted to see what was going on.”

Sophie narrowed her eyes, waiting.

Grady was uncomfortable with her scrutiny. “What?”

“You haven’t asked what happened,” Sophie pointed out.

Grady internally cursed himself. “One of the people down the street told me that some gangbangers took a shot at someone. Was it you?”

Sophie glanced down the street. “Who told you?”

She’s so suspicious.
“I don’t know. Some woman.”

Sophie looked doubtful, but she didn’t press him. “I don’t think it was gangbangers.”

Grady reached over, grabbing her wrist and running his finger over the tender white skin as he turned her arm so he could take a better look at the bandage. Sophie seemed surprised by his movements, but she didn’t immediately yank her arm away.

“Were you shot?”

“No. One of the planters shattered and the glass cut me. It’s minor.”

Grady nodded, relieved. He had no idea why he cared. “Well, I guess it could be worse then.”

“I think it depends on who you ask,” Sophie shot back. “I kind of fainted or something, although I’m still trying to believe that. I don’t faint. I am not a … fainter. That’s just ridiculous. That doesn’t seem minor to me.”

Grady bit the inside of his mouth to keep the retort on the tip of tongue from escaping. “I guess.”

Sophie pulled her arm back, rubbing the spot where his fingers had just been.

Grady lifted his brown eyes to hers. “You fainted? You?”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “What are you asking?”

“Well, I just thought your balls were too big for you to faint.” Grady knew the jab was pointed, but he didn’t care. He wanted a reaction from her. Any reaction would do.

“It was … intense,” Sophie admitted. “I’ve never been shot at before.”

Grady nodded.

“You would’ve probably fainted, too,” Sophie challenged.

Grady smirked. He’d done a three-year tour in the Army, seeing heavy action in Afghanistan. Fainting wasn’t in his repertoire. “You’re probably right.”

“You would have,” Sophie pressed.

“That’s what I said.”

Sophie made a face. “You wouldn’t have fainted, would you?”

Grady shrugged. “Probably not.”

Sophie let loose an exasperated sigh. “You bug me.”

Grady raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond.

Sophie glanced around. “I guess I should get going.”

“Are the police done with you?”

“It’s the sheriff’s department,” Sophie replied, her disdain evident. “They said they’ll have more questions, but they’re done for now.”

“You don’t seem convinced.”

“Let’s just say I don’t have a lot of faith in the sheriff solving this case right now,” Sophie shot back. “He probably set it up.”

Grady ran his tongue over his teeth, considering his options. “Why do you say that?”

Sophie sighed. “We had a little …
thing
after the meeting tonight.”

“Define
thing
.”

“He thinks I’m purposely out to get him.”

“Because of the corruption scandal?”

Sophie’s eyes narrowed. “You know about that?”

Grady shrugged. “It’s big news in the county. I’m up on the news.”
What? He was up on the news. Now.

Sophie didn’t look convinced. “And where do you think the money is?”

This was a test. “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to look at the financial trail to figure that out.” That seemed like a safe answer.

“Well, Sheriff Morgan says it’s just been misplaced. Like someone can just lose six-hundred grand under the couch cushion or something.”

Grady laughed. “I guess not.”

“Anyway, he accused me of purposely going after him, and that’s when the shooting happened,” Sophie said.

“Was he there when the shots were fired?”

“No. He’d already left.”

“So, why do you think that he arranged it?”

“I don’t,” Sophie admitted after a second. “I’m just … flustered.”

“That’s understandable,” Grady said. “You were shot at.”

Sophie’s face was inscrutable. “Why are you being nice to me?”

“Why are you so suspicious?”

“Because I was not only mean to you yesterday afternoon, but I was rude,” Sophie said. “If you think I’m proud of it, I’m not. I’m just curious why you would even want to be nice to me after the way I acted.”

Grady smiled. “Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment.”

“Well, I can believe that.”

Grady stilled. “Maybe I’m also in a position to help you.”

“How so?”

Grady’s dimples came out to play. “You’ll have to let me buy you a late dinner to find out.”

Sophie tilted her head, unsure. “I don’t know you. You could be a rapist or something.”

“Do I look like a rapist?”

Sophie pursed her lips. “No. You look like a guy who gets what he wants.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I’m not sure.”

Grady held out his hand. “Why don’t you let me buy you dinner – in a well-lit environment with a lot of people around – and decide for yourself?”

Sophie glanced at his hand. “It’s almost eleven. Most of the restaurants around here are closed.”

Grady kept his hand outstretched as he inclined his head to the National Coney Island diner down the block. “I didn’t say it would be a good dinner.”

Sophie sighed as she reached out and squeezed his hand. “Fine. I’m keeping my eye on you, though.”

Grady winked. “That’s the way I like it.”

Seven

The diner was brightly lit, clean, and full of reprobates. Late night diners adjacent to bad neighborhoods are breeding grounds for interesting people – and some of those people are more dangerous than engaging. Grady ignored them as he settled into the booth across from Sophie, marveling that she seemed to fit into the environment seamlessly.

They placed their orders, neither party opting to speak until the waitress had delivered their drinks. Once she was gone, Grady fixed Sophie with a curious look. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself,” Sophie challenged.

Grady swallowed his sigh. She was tough. There must be a reason. He just had to be patient. “Okay, have it your way. I’m one of four children. I have two brothers and one sister. I grew up in Barker Creek, a small town upstate. I spent three years in the Army after graduation. Now I work as a security consultant with my brothers.”

Sophie’s face was unreadable. “Hardy Brothers Security?”

Grady nodded. “You’ve heard of us?”

“Not a lot,” Sophie admitted. “The only reason I know about you is because one of you was involved in an incident at the courthouse a few months ago. One of the clerks was threatened, and someone from your business shot through a glass door and saved her and an injured security guard. It was big news for a whole week.”

“Mandy,” Grady said. “Amanda Avery, I mean. She was the clerk.”

“Was it you?”

“No,” Grady replied. “It was my brother, James.”

“You know the clerk, though?”

“She grew up in Barker Creek with us,” Grady replied. “She was best friends with my sister. Now she’s joined at the hip – and groin, more often than not – with my brother.”

Sophie smirked. “You don’t seem happy about that.”

“No,” Grady said hurriedly. “I love Mandy. She’s a part of our family. She was a part of our family before she turned my brother into a domestic doofus. I have no problem with her, or her relationship with my brother.”

“I guess I must have … misread … your reaction.”

“We’re just constantly teasing him,” Grady admitted. “He’s a fool in love.”

“Is there something wrong with that?” Sophie asked, sipping from her Diet Coke, fixing him with a curious stare.

“No. She makes him happy. She makes him
really
happy, in fact. I’m happy for them.”

“Did they date when they were kids?” Sophie asked.

“No. James was too old. They connected again as adults.”

“Does your sister mind?”

Grady had no idea where she was going with this line of questioning, but he decided to let it play out. She needed to lead the conversation, for some reason, so he let her stay in her comfort zone. “She’s thrilled.”

“That’s good, I guess.”

“It is for them,” Grady said. “They gossip like school girls, and gang up on my brother whenever they get a chance. It’s fun, for me at least.”

“Do they ever gang up on you?”

“Yeah. That’s not as much fun.”

“And your other brother?”

“Finn?”

“Is Finn in the security business with you?”

“He is and, yes, before you ask, they gang up on him, too.”

Sophie laughed lightly. “It sounds like a close group of people.”

“It is.”

They lapsed into silence for a few seconds.

Grady sipped from his pop as he considered how to progress. “You haven’t told me about yourself yet.”

Sophie sucked in a deep breath. “What do you want to know?”

“Where did you grow up?”

“I was born in Canton,” Sophie replied. “My parents died when I was six. I was in the system after that. I moved to Macomb County when I was ten.”

Well, that explained her constant suspicion. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because that must have been rough on you,” Grady replied.

“I don’t really remember them,” Sophie said. “They died in a fire. I don’t even have any pictures of them. They’re just … the people who birthed me, I guess.”

“You didn’t have any other family?”

“No.”

That made Grady sad, although he couldn’t quite figure out why. “Did you stay with foster families?”

“At least six until I finally settled with one for the long haul when I was ten.”

“Did they adopt you?”

“No,” Sophie said, shaking her head. “They never treated me as anything other than a real member of their family, though. They
are
my family now.”

“That’s good,” Grady said. “It’s good you have someone. My family means a lot to me. They’re infuriating – and annoying – but they’re also loyal and great. I couldn’t imagine not having them.”

“Yeah,” Sophie agreed. “The Marconis do the same for me. My foster mother died a few years ago, but my foster father and his family are still very much a part of my life. I still see them at least once a month. We have family dinners and stuff.”

Suspicion niggled in the back of Grady’s brain. “The Marconis? Not Peter Marconi?”

Sophie stiffened, leaning back in the booth. “Yes, Peter Marconi. He was a good father to me.”

Grady pursed his lips. The Marconis were notorious. They’d been rumored to have mob ties for years, although nothing had ever been proven. “I’m not insinuating anything to the contrary.”

“Good. Don’t.”

“Got it.”

The waitress picked that moment to deliver their dinner – two coneys and an order of chili fries for each of them. Once she was gone, they spent the next few minutes eating. Finally, Sophie broke the silence.

“What did you mean when you said you could help me?”

“We have the capability to be able to research the financials of different individuals,” Grady replied. “We have investigative skills to help you … and we can keep you safe.” He had no idea why he added the last part.

“You think I’m in danger?”

“I don’t know,” Grady said. “You obviously do, though.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because you immediately jumped to the conclusion that the sheriff had something to do with the shooting,” Grady said.

“I was just overreacting,” Sophie replied. “I was worked up. I don’t really think that.”

“Are you sure?”

Sophie was quiet, considering. “I think he’s hiding something. I think he could be guilty of taking the money himself. I don’t think he’s a murderer, though.”

“Okay. That doesn’t mean someone else isn’t desperate to cover up a crime.”

“And how would you figure out who it is?” Sophie challenged.

“It’s not going to be easy,” Grady admitted. “It will take some work, some investigation. I just thought you might want some help.”

“And why would I trust you?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Grady wanted her to trust him – he didn’t know why – but he wasn’t sure how to earn that trust. “Maybe you don’t need to trust me.”

“Then why would I agree to work with you?” Sophie asked.

Grady decided professional accolades were the way to approach the situation. For now. “If I can get you information that you couldn’t get on your own, why wouldn’t you? This could be the story of the year.”

Sophie furrowed her brow. “And what would you want in return?”

“Why do you think I want anything in return?”

“Because I’ve never known anyone who does anything out of the goodness of their own heart,” Sophie said, her tone flat and even. “People always want something.”

“Does truth count?”

“No.”

“How about curiosity?”

“If you’re a reporter? Sure. You’re not a reporter, though. You’re in the security business. You work for money. Nothing else.”

Grady wanted to argue – but she wasn’t wrong. “I get why you’re suspicious,” he said. “You grew up in the system. You work in a world where people lie to get what they want, lie to you just because they can. That’s not me. That’s never going to be me.”

Sophie didn’t respond.

“Sometimes, though,” Grady continued. “People do want to help. They do want to do what they can because it’s the right thing.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that’s you?”

Grady ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “I hope so.”

Sophie didn’t answer right away. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

Grady watched her go. He knew why she was really leaving the table: She had to think. She was stalling.

 

SOPHIE
locked herself in the bathroom stall, sitting down on the toilet and sucking in a deep breath.

There was something about Grady Hardy that tugged at her heart – and it wasn’t just because he was smoking hot. That didn’t hurt, of course. She’d imagined what was under those tight blue jeans of his more than once since she’d met him. There was something else there, something she couldn’t put a name to.

Belief in people wasn’t something she usually embraced. It took the Marconis years to chip at the wall she erected around her heart and, even now, they’d never fully managed to eradicate it.

Still, Grady Hardy had resources she could only dream of. It’s not like she was inviting him into her life – or bed. She was just working in conjunction with him.
What was the harm in that?

Sophie made her decision. They could work together. They could solve the case, and then go their separate ways. She would get her story – thank Grady Hardy for his help – and then move on. She didn’t care what her hormones were saying.

When she returned to the table, Grady had cleaned his plate. He was watching her – those rich, chocolate eyes washing over her sore body – but he wasn’t pushing any agenda that she could immediately identify.

She slid into the booth and took another sip from her Diet Coke. “What do you think we should do first?”

Grady quirked an eyebrow. “We?”

Sophie felt color climbing her cheeks. “I thought … .”

“I’m just messing with you,” Grady said hurriedly. “You’re skittish. I get it.”

“I’m not skittish,” she protested. “I’m … wary.”

“Is that different?”

“Do you want to press you luck?”

Grady smiled, one of those melt-your-heart grins that tugs at the very core of a woman. “Why don’t we start with your files?”

Sophie leaned back in her seat, trying to push the persistent reservations clouding her mind away. “Let’s go.”

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