Debra Webb - Damaged

“We’ve got it covered,” Mr. Ruhl assured her. “Take care of Lucas’s errand. Let me know when you’re back in the office.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lucky started for the elevator again.

“One more thing, Lucky.”

She turned back to him once more. “Sir?”

He gifted her with another of those warm smiles. “The sir isn’t necessary. Nor is the mister. We’re very informal around here. Call me Simon.”

She nodded. That would take some getting used to. Where she was from, one always addressed their superiors and seniors in such a way.

Simon Ruhl chuckled as he walked away.

Lucky relaxed a little. She would be okay. Everyone seemed to like her so far. Then reality dropped down on her like a rock slide. She wouldn’t have Mildred to keep her straight when Victoria arrived. A lump settled in Lucky’s stomach.

Don’t borrow trouble, she told herself. She would be fine. Her boss would surely understand the need for guidance with someone so new.

This time she actually reached her destination without being waylaid. She pressed the elevator’s call button and took a couple of deep breaths in an effort to relax. They didn’t really help.

In the lobby she waved at the two security guards as she strode toward the front entrance. The weather was beautiful. If she knew her way around a little better she would walk to the drop point. But getting lost was not a risk she wanted to take. And she wasn’t actually sure of the distance.

She’d no more passed through the towering plate-glass doors when a big black car with the darkly tinted windows of a limo pulled to a stop in front of her. The parking area at the front of the building was rather small, mostly for short-term parking and drop-offs. Lucky made a sharp left to go around the car.

The rear window powered down. Lucky hesitated. Maybe someone needed directions. She, unfortunately, wasn’t the person to ask. Three months in the city and she still got lost all too frequently. Chicago was very different from Houston in climate and in the way the city was laid out.

“Good morning, Lucky.”

Her eyes widened. The boss. “Good morning, Mrs. Colby-Camp.”

“You must have read my mind,” Victoria mused. “I was about to call for you to come down. I’d like you to accompany me for an appointment this morning.”

“Of course.” Lucky’s job was all-inclusive when it came to the needs of Victoria.

A frown pinching her face, Victoria Colby-Camp glanced past Lucky. Lucky turned to see if someone else had exited the building. She saw no one.

“Why don’t you get in and I’ll explain on the way.”

A little confused—but that seemed to be the theme for the day—Lucky climbed into the limo next to her boss. “Is everything all right?” Victoria seemed a little nervous, which was completely out of character.

“Yes, everything’s fine.” To the driver, she said, “I’m ready now.”

He turned back to make eye contact with the woman in charge. “The clinic?”

“Yes.” The head of the Colby Agency folded her hands in her lap, keeping her attention focused forward.

Clinic? “Are we meeting a client?” Lucky ventured. She was aware that the Colby Agency went out of the way to facilitate the needs of clients, so it seemed a reasonable question. But hadn’t Lucas said Victoria was having breakfast with a friend?

Mrs. Colby-Camp turned to face her. “Lucky, you’re brand new at the agency. But I trust that what I’m about to tell you will go no further.”

Lucky’s heart rate jumped back into that crazy, frantic rhythm. “You have my word, ma’am.”

The woman Lucky admired so greatly stared forward once more. “I am not one to keep secrets from my husband and my son, but this is for the best.”

Her voice sounded distant, wistful. “Is something wrong?” Every cell in Lucky’s brain screamed at her that something was very, very wrong.

“Yes.” Victoria inhaled a deep, halting breath. “Something is quite wrong.”

Sweet heavens. Lucky choked back the worry rising in her throat. “How can I help?”

“There is a treatment that may possibly outmaneuver this disaster,” Mrs. Colby-Camp said softly. “It’s fairly simple. Only takes an hour or so. I’ll know within the week if it’s going to work.”

That was why they were going to a clinic. Lucky wanted to ask what would happen if it didn’t work, but she couldn’t bring herself to voice her fears. The need to flat-out ask the nature of the disaster had her pressing her lips firmly together.

“I see no need to put my family through the emotional drama if this simple procedure will take care of things.” Victoria stared at her hands a moment. “Still, I wasn’t looking forward to going to the clinic alone.”

Lucky wanted to reach over and hug her. “I’m glad you thought of me.” Victoria looked so desolate, so unlike the strong, powerful woman whose reputation had plowed a famous path all the way to Texas. Lucky had heard the stories about the Colby Agency and she had known that being a part of the agency was what she wanted above all else.

“When the procedure is over,” Lucky’s boss went on, seeming to gather her courage once more, “we’ll return to the office and this will be our secret until such time that it becomes necessary to share the details with my husband and son.”

At the mention of Victoria’s husband, Lucky thought of the package in her pocket. Lucas was depending on her to deliver it…but this, well, this thing with Victoria took precedence.

Maybe when Mrs. Colby-Camp was settled in for the procedure, Lucky could have the driver run her to the address Lucas had provided. She would be back in plenty of time. Victoria wouldn’t even know she’d been gone. Lucky would have accomplished both missions and neither would be the wiser.

That would work.

Lucky sat back in the lush leather seat. She couldn’t help stealing a peek at Victoria from the corner of her eyes. She looked so grim. Whatever was wrong it had to be bad. Lucky’s mother would say this was a good time to pray.

But Lucky had stopped praying a long time ago. And her mother wasn’t exactly a stellar role model.

Funny, for a woman with the name Lucky, she’d never had much luck. Not the good kind anyway.

Maybe Victoria Colby-Camp hadn’t had much either. Lucky had heard bits and pieces of the story about her son. Jim Colby had been missing for twenty years when his mother had finally found him. During that same time her first husband had been murdered.

Seemed like the lady could use some good luck herself.

7:40 a.m.

“One last transaction.”

Darnell Raspberry glared up at Dakota from his desk. “Are you insane? Mr. Wallace is going to kill you, but first he’ll kill me. I can’t keep doing this!”

Dakota slapped the man on the back. “One more,” he prompted. “And then I’ll be on my way.”

Raspberry grumbled something about him being left behind to take the heat. Dakota didn’t bother reminding him that was the way it went when a guy chose to live a life of crime. When it was good, it was good, but when things went bad it was generally seriously bad.

Dakota recited the untraceable numbered account for Raspberry, then reached over his shoulder and entered the security code himself.

“Now.” Dakota grabbed Raspberry by the collar and hauled him out of his chair. “Let’s take a walk.”

“But you said you’d go,” Raspberry whined. “I did everything you asked!”

“Which way to the men’s room?”

Raspberry muttered desperate protests all the way to the men’s room. Good thing no one else was expected in the office for another half hour or so.