Elle James - Marine Force Recon

Tears welled in Grace’s eyes and she almost turned around and ran.

“It’s okay,” the woman at the reception desk whispered. “Mrs. Halverson is a really nice lady. You’ll do fine.”

Blinking to clear her vision, Grace nodded.

“Twelfth floor, straight out of the elevator. Her secretary will greet you.”

“Thank you.” Grace choked on her words and turned toward the elevator.

The receptionist held out a tissue. “You might want this.” She gave her a warm smile. “Really, she’s nice.”

Grace nearly lost her composure there, but held it together long enough to make it into the elevator, where she waited until the door closed before she let the tears fall. But only a few. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to read the screen on her cell phone if she cried too much.

For the hundredth time, she checked for text messages from Riley.

Nothing.

The floor numbers flashed green on the display panel as the elevator car rose to the top of the office building.

Grace dabbed at her eyes, sure her mascara was running by now. What a great impression she’d make on Mrs. Halverson, a sobbing, hot mess of a woman in a wrinkled suit, with red-rimmed eyes and a runny nose.

Grace didn’t care. Riley was still missing.

The elevator stopped.

As the doors opened, Grace jabbed at the buttons to go back down, but it was too late. Mrs. Halverson’s secretary spotted her and smiled. “Miss Lawrence, I’m so glad you could make it after we stood you up yesterday. I’m Margaret Berkman.” She rounded to the front of her desk and held out her hand.

Short of being completely rude, Grace was forced to step out of the elevator, cross to the secretary’s desk and shake the woman’s hand. “You didn’t stand me up. I was caught up in the shooting yesterday. I didn’t even make it to this building.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “Oh, dear. You will have so much to share with Mrs. Halverson. She was there, too.” The secretary turned toward the door behind her. “Come with me.”

“If she was there yesterday, perhaps now isn’t a good time to conduct this interview.” The timing was terrible for Grace. She felt as if she would break down at any moment.

“Mrs. Halverson was looking forward to meeting you. I’m sure she will be fine.”

Mrs. Halverson might be fine, but Grace certainly wasn’t.

She squared her shoulders, glanced at her cell-phone screen again and followed Margaret into a spacious office with a wide solid-mahogany desk. A gray-haired woman sat with her back to the door, staring out at the buildings making up the skyline of Washington, DC.

When Mrs. Halverson turned, she smiled and pushed to her feet. “Miss Lawrence, so very nice to meet you.”

Grace gasped. The woman was the same one who’d been yanked out of the limousine the day before and hauled into the kidnapper’s van. “You...you were the one.”

Mrs. Halverson frowned. “Pardon me?”

Grace shook her head slowly. “You were the woman at the shooting yesterday. The one they tried to kidnap.”

Mrs. Halverson clasped Grace’s hand in hers and nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Yes, that was me. But that was yesterday, and I prefer to push it out of my thoughts. Horrible event. Just horrible.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. “You’re here to interview for the position of personal assistant, am I right?”

Grace didn’t move from where she stood, her mind spinning with the frightening memories of the day before. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” she said, a shadow crossing her face. “But I lost some good men in that disaster. Fine men with families.”

“They didn’t hurt you?” Grace asked.

Mrs. Halverson smiled. “Thankfully, a nice young man rescued me from the kidnappers before they could take me to parts unknown.” She frowned and stared at Grace. “You were there?”

Grace nodded. “I was. I think the man who rescued you saved me before he went after you.”

Mrs. Halverson’s lips twitched upward. “Sounds like what he would do. That young man doesn’t think about his own safety. He’s too busy saving everyone else. And the police had the nerve to arrest him.”

So, that’s what had happened to him after he’d left his backpack in Grace’s care.

“But enough about me. Tell me about you,” Mrs. Halverson said. She waved a hand toward several leather chairs arranged around a low coffee table.

Grace shook her head. “I... I can’t do this.”

“Do what? Have a conversation with me?” Mrs. Halverson took Grace’s arm. “I tell you, I’m okay. I really need a personal assistant. Otherwise I’d reschedule.”

“You don’t understand.” Grace pulled her arm free of Mrs. Halverson’s grip. “Yesterday was bad on more levels than just the attack downtown.” She shook her head, her heart pinching hard inside her chest. “My roommate didn’t come home last night. I’ve been worried sick and combing the streets, looking for her.” The tears welled again and some spilled over, sliding down her cheek. “Mrs. Halverson, I’m afraid I can’t do this interview.”

Mrs. Halverson drew Grace into her arms and led her to a sofa. She settled her there and held her at arm’s length. “Tell me what happened. When did she go missing?”

Grace told her what she knew, where she’d gone and how she’d contacted the police. Tears slipped from her eyes and trailed down her cheeks.

The older woman shook her head. “I’m sorry about your friend. I’d be worried, too.” She lifted Grace’s chin and stared into her eyes. “But you’ve come to the right place. I think I might be able to help.”

Grace laughed, her voice choking on a sob. “How can you help? The police couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t find her.” She sucked in a shaky breath and let it out. “I don’t know what else to do.”

Mrs. Halverson patted her hand. “I know someone who might be of assistance. And this is just the kind of thing I hired him for.”

“You do?” Using the tissue the receptionist had given her, Grace scrubbed the tears from her eyes. “Who?”

Mrs. Halverson stood. “You stay right there.” She walked to the door, poked her head out and said, “Send in my new hire. I have a job for him.”

Mrs. Halverson returned to the couch and drew Grace to her feet. “I’m sure he’ll be able to help you. He’s a trained warrior and quite good at it.”

“A warrior?” Grace shook her head. “I need a tracking dog.”

“I’m sure he can do that. He’s pretty versatile.” She smiled and looked past Grace. “Ah, there you are.” Mrs. Halverson turned toward the door. “Declan, meet Grace Lawrence.”

Grace turned and her jaw dropped. She knew this man.

Mrs. Halverson continued. “Grace, this is Declan—”

“O’Neill,” Grace finished.

The older woman frowned. “You know each other?”

Declan nodded while Grace shook her head.

“I have your rucksack,” Grace said. “I didn’t know how to find you.”

“I tried to call my cell phone, but the battery must have died.” He held out his hand. “What were the chances we’d find each other here?”

Mrs. Halverson shrugged. “Since you two know each other, I’ll leave you both to the task of finding Miss Lawrence’s roommate. I have a lot to do.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, a shadow passing over her face. “Arranging for the funerals of my bodyguards.” She stared at Grace. “As for the job—are you still interested?”

Grace nodded. “I am, but I need to find my roommate before I can get my head on straight.”

Mrs. Halverson shook her head. “You need to get your head on straight to find your roommate. Once you do, come back for that interview. I still need an assistant, but I can wait.” She nodded to Declan O’Neill. “Now that you’ve located your rucksack and phone, you can contact your friends. I’m sure they’ll make fine additions and can assist you in our new venture. Remind me, we need to come up with a name for your team.”