Taken by Tuesday

Chapter Five



The sound of a crying baby met Rick’s ears as he stepped into Neil and Gwen’s home. Neil was all about security and seclusion, so he knew Rick had arrived long before he entered the house. A must when your best friend topped two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle and had a Marine background that would hold no issue with taking out a trespasser entering his home uninvited.

Neil was fiercely in love with his lady wife and had nearly lost her over two years ago. The experience had changed the man. Now he smiled more than Rick ever remembered while they were on active duty, and he talked more. Oh, he was as silent as ever when he was working on something in his head, but Gwen had made the man open up since he’d married her.

“Neil?” Rick called out as he walked through the large home to the source of the sound. “Gwen?”

The crying grew louder as Rick walked up the back stairs to the nursery.

The explosion of pink and purple always made Rick smile. The room resembled a tower in a castle, complete with a mural of a turret behind the crib.

The smell hit Rick before he realized what his friend was dealing with.

Neil stood over his infant daughter, his back to Rick. “Not sure what you’re crying about. I have to deal with the mess.”

Emma cried harder.

Rick leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms across his chest.

After a few attempts at using those wet wipe things, Neil abandoned the traditional diaper-changing route, picked Emma up at arm’s length, and turned toward the adjoining bathroom. “Are you going to stand there and watch or are you going to help?”

Rick chuckled. “Didn’t think you saw me here.”

“I knew you’d follow the noise. Or the smell.”

Emma’s tiny cry grew silent as the two men worked their way into the bathroom. “Where’s Gwen?”

“Helping Sam with a new employee. Turn on the water,” Neil instructed Rick while holding his daughter over the tub.

“Isn’t she a little young for a bath in a full-size tub, Dad?” Rick opened the flow of water.

Emma’s wide eyes blinked several times and a tiny smile lifted one side of her lips. At only seven months old, the girl had her daddy wrapped around her itty-bitty finger. Truth was, Rick was pretty wrapped himself. Blonde hair had barely started to fill her once-bald head, and her blue eyes always seemed to take in everything around her. She watched, just like her father, appeared to assess the world around her, then reacted to have her needs met.

“Grab that.” Neil nodded toward the removable wand that doubled as a shower head.

“I take it you’ve done this before,” Rick said as he pointed the spray away from all of them and checked the temperature of the water.

“How so much comes out of such a tiny thing is beyond me.”

“Maybe you’re feeding her too much,” Rick teased.

Neil leaned farther over the tub. “I’ll hold, you spray.”

“Let the kicking begin, eh, Em?” Rick let the water hit her tiny feet first and slowly let the spray move up to the mess. Instead of letting out a war cry, Emma giggled and kicked at the water while Neil turned her around so Rick could get her backside. After a little soap and a washcloth finished the cleanup, Emma was wrapped in a fluffy pink towel.

“Seems you have diaper duty down,” Rick offered while Neil redressed and laid Emma in her crib.

“Easier than scrubbing toilets with a toothbrush.”

Rick would never forget his first few weeks in the service, when the joy of his ass being kicked by his commanding officer often ended with him scrubbing toilets.

The service had been one of his only options. His size, speed, and intelligence landed him with the elite. The Marines. He hadn’t grown up with much so living out of a duffle bag wasn’t a hardship. His dad was a broken-down dockworker, his mom worked odd jobs off and on his whole life to help where she could. Rick wasn’t sure if their marriage was happy or just routine. The two of them fought more than he thought they should . . . or maybe they just fought when they were around him or they fought about him.

Neil paused for a moment and stared down at his daughter. A rare smile met his lips and he turned and led them both out of her nursery.

“That’s it?” Rick asked. “No fussing or pitching a fit to go down for a nap?”

Neil shrugged. “It’s nap time,” he said as if the explanation was complete.

“Babies fuss.”

“Emma cries for her mama, not for me.”

Rick laughed. “I’ll bet Gwen loves that.”

Neil shrugged again and walked them into his security office. Monitors filled one wall with all the houses they monitored, including their own. A new set of monitors was dark and waiting for the next system to be installed.

“Looks like you’re all set up for Karen and Zach’s place.”

Neil sat behind his desk and opened a file drawer. He tossed a manila envelope filled with papers across the desk in Rick’s direction. “Everything you’ll need is in there. Kenny will supervise his team at Parkview Securities while they fit the house with the new system.”
     



Rick took the envelope, glanced inside. “What made Karen change her mind?”

“Combination of Zach and the courts.”

Karen’s safe house for kids had been an uphill battle with the courts. All she wanted to do was have a large home where kids from dysfunctional families or homeless kids could live without the fear of violence and hunger. The space had been the easy part. Getting Child Protective Services to license her was another story. At the current time, she had two teenage kids, one sixteen and one seventeen. The kids were brother and sister and had the emancipation of the courts after their mother was killed by their father and Dad landed in jail. The seventeen-year-old brother had left school to work full-time to try to keep it together for his sister. The kids came to Karen’s attention through the Boys and Girls Club where she volunteered her time. They now lived full-time at The Village, the Victorian home with more rooms than occupants.

“I take it the court wasn’t quick to grant them the ability to house a bunch of needy kids.”

“Not at all,” Neil replied. “The security system will help give the court a level of safety . . . or at least they think it will.”

“Anyone wanting to get at the kids inside will breach the system.”

“Not without evidence. And that seems to be all the court worries about. A trail of evidence if anything bad happens.” Neil sighed. “Anyway. I need you to set everything up on this end. Gwen’s mother expects everyone home for her birthday.”

Everyone meant Blake and Samantha and their two kids as well as Neil, Gwen, and Emma, and home meant the estate at Albany, outside of London.

“I have ya covered, Mac.”

Neil chuckled with the use of his nickname.

They both paused. Rick reflected back to when Neil was introduced to him as Mac. Back then, everyone on their team called Rick Smiley. Life was too short to frown all the damn time. He pushed away the memories that always threatened to remove the smile from his face and forced the smile again.

“How is the ol’ mother-in-law?”

Neil grinned. “Linda’s actually kinda cool.”

The slang caught Rick by surprise. “How so?”

“Hard to describe. Just easygoing now that Emma is here.”

“You won her over, did ya?”

“Sometimes quiet and stoic wins.”

Neil’s comment just made Rick’s smile bigger. “Vain much?”

Neil glanced at the monitors, looked back. “How is everything with you?”

Rick found the question odd. “Great . . . fine.”

Neil shook his head. “When we hooked up, you said you hated LA, yet you’re still here. I keep expecting you to move on.”

“Oh.” Rick leaned against the desk, glanced out the window. “Trying to get rid of me?”

“Surprised.”

“Working with you doesn’t suck.” It didn’t. In fact, Rick finally felt connected with people, something he had only felt when he was on active duty. Didn’t suck that some of those people introduced him to Judy . . . and she didn’t suck.

“So you’re gonna be around for a while?”

“I don’t feel the need to move on, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Neil nodded. “Good. I’m going to be gone for two weeks. I need you to watch everything here.”

“Not a lot here when both yours and Blake’s families are gone.”

No, there was a security team at Albany fit for a duke and his family. Not that anyone needed to worry with Neil among them.

“I need you ready to help Carter or Eliza if something happens. Michael will be back before the fundraiser.” The fundraiser was a black-tie event at The Village to help raise funds for the kids there. Carter, the governor of California, had a security team, but when push came to shove in the real world, Carter knew he could depend on Neil . . . and Rick was an extension of Neil when he wasn’t available to help. “How’s the campaigning going?”

“I think a second term is a shoo-in. We need to keep ourselves open to any threats.”

“So,” Rick recapped, “everything should be perfectly boring while you’re gone?”

Neil looked up and glared. “When is our life ever boring?”

Then, as if on cue, noise from the baby monitor interrupted their conversation and Emma fought her nap.



“There’s a black-tie event at The Village right after we get back.” Samantha handed a check to Meg and turned away. She glanced at the amount and nearly choked.

“What’s this for?”

“It’s a clothing allowance.”

Meg hadn’t spent that many zeros on clothes her entire life.

“For clothes?”

“Crazy, isn’t it?”

The only thing Meg could do was nod.

“The rich sniff out cheap crap. I understand the need to pick up a bargain, but don’t start at a big box store.”

“But—”

“I expect receipts. Evening gowns go to your feet, keeping in mind your shoes. There will be alterations and accessories. I expect every image recorded in the tabloids to reflect wealth. Even those from a dance club.”

Meg closed her eyes, swallowed hard. “You saw that?”

Samantha laughed. “Cute guys.”

“They’re gay.”

“Still cute. Next time wear a silk shirt. The rich know all about the paparazzi. Most love the attention, but anyone watching us will expect a certain level of quality. And once you’re here, they want you to be someone that can relate to their issues. Even if you can’t.”

“I don’t even know where to shop.”

“Not a problem. I have Karen stopping by tomorrow to take you and Judy out shopping.”

“Seriously?”

Samantha laughed. “Seriously.”

Meg sat back in her chair with a laugh. “This doesn’t feel like work.”

Her boss switched into a file on the computer. “No worries, what I’m going to show you next will feel like work.”

Two hours later Meg’s head was fried. Not only were there portfolios on women to match with men . . . but a few men looking for a longer-term selection of women. Memorizing the faces so Meg could match couples at a glance was imperative. Then there were the kinds of profiles of men and women she needed to keep an eye out to recruit.

Meg was clicking through pages long after Samantha had left the Tarzana house.

When the front door opened, Meg assumed it was her boss returning. When a male voice interrupted her thoughts, she jumped.

“Hey.”

Meg swiveled in her chair, a hand to her chest. “Good Lord.”

“Sorry.”

Rick stood in the doorway, his lazy smile gracing his face. Why Judy wasn’t jumping the man was beyond Meg.

Meg looked out the window, noticed the sun setting. “I lost the time.”

“Happens to the best of us. So you’re Samantha’s new recruit.”

Meg turned toward the computer, hit print so she could study the information at home, and turned off the computer when she was finished. “Samantha is the perfect boss.”

“She’s a nice lady.”

“Agreed.” She stood, looked around the office. “Does it bother you that I’ll be around?”

Rick shrugged. “I’m used to it. Besides, I’m not here often. Just be sure and set the alarm when you come and go.”

Samantha had taught her the drill. It mimicked that which she’d already learned living with Judy at Michael’s home.
     



“Not a problem.” Meg gathered her papers and lifted her purse onto her shoulder. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be gone most of the day.”

“Oh . . . OK.”

Before Meg made it to the door, the inevitable happened.

“So how are you and Judy settling in?”

A slow, easy smile met Meg’s lips. The man was terribly transparent. “Judy thinks her new boss is a dickless putz.”

How Rick managed to have dimples and hold back a smile was beyond her.

“Other than that, she’s fine.”

“And the tabloid fodder?”

“You saw that?”

The piece had been small, but it seemed to have made the rounds.

“Double date?”

Oh, now Meg got it. Rick was fishing for the real story. “We’d just met the guys.” She left out the part about them being into each other and not them.

“You were all laughing.”

“Evenings out do that.” Instead of elaborating, Meg squeezed between Rick and the doorway. “Well, it’s late. See ya tomorrow, Rick.”

She would swear Rick grumbled as she sailed out the front door. Men are so easy.