RYDER: A Standalone Military Romance (Blake Security Book 1) (4 page)

RYDER

              “How did he get in through the gates without you seeing him?” I was standing in the foyer with the gate guard in front of me. He looked young and scared and on the verge of tears. He was probably wondering what he would do for a job when Mr. Branson was finished with him.

              “I have no idea, sir. The only other possible way to get into the perimeter is by climbing one of the fences. They’re all alarmed, and the lowest point is six-feet tall. They’re smooth on the outside, so unless he had something to climb up on, I can’t imagine that he scaled it.”

              “Has he said anything yet?”

The man on the property had been caught by the other security guard on duty. Luckily for that one he probably still had a job. I hadn’t had a chance to interview him yet. I’d spent the past hour on the phone with the police, the Bransons, and Blake. Alicia, the baby, and the rest of the staff were all gathered in the living room, waiting for the all clear to go back to their rooms. Alicia looked frightened, and the poor baby was crying and upset after being woken up by such a rude noise. I wanted to take Alicia into my arms and tell her it would be all right. I still wasn’t sure about the baby.

              The guard shook his head. “He’s not saying anything at all to us. Vince talked to him first. The police are in there with him now though, so hopefully they can get something out of him. You know, all they’ll be able to charge him with is trespassing unless they get him to admit that he was here for something else.”

              “Where is Vince?” Vince is the head of the Bransons’ security. I’d spoken to him on the phone but had yet to meet him in person. 

              “What the hell kind of security lets someone get onto the property not once, but twice?” Matt Branson’s booming and slightly intoxicated voice interrupted the young officer before he could answer my question. I looked over and saw him glaring at the poor security officer. The young guard looked like he might pee his pants. Branson seemed like the kind of guy that worked overtime to intimidate his staff. It was obviously working on this poor guy.

              “Mr. Branson, maybe we could go talk in the living room,” I said, trying to help.

              “Where is he?” Branson said, this time looking at me.

              “Where is who, sir?”

              “The man that tried to kidnap my daughter!”

              “Well, sir,” I said in my calmest of tones. “We don’t exactly know yet what he was doing on the property. He’s with the police right now, and they’re trying to sort that out.”

              “You can’t honestly think that this is a coincidence, can you? Has everyone lost their minds?” Mrs. Branson had stepped into my view as well. I might have expected an anxious mother demanding to see her child. Instead, she simply looked bored, annoyed, or drunk. I wasn’t sure which.

              Still trying to stay calm myself so that I didn’t further agitate him, I said, “Like I said, we just don’t know anything yet. When the police finish with him, they will come and talk to us. I would really like to speak with you and your wife while we wait.”

              Branson gave the security guard one more hard stare before telling him, “I want you back here at eight in the morning. Once I know exactly how this man got onto my property and I speak to Vince, we’ll discuss whether or not you still have a job. Now go home. Obviously you weren’t doing any good here anyways.” He turned to me then and opened his mouth. I realized then that he might be a huge ass, but he was at least a smart one. He knew better than to say whatever was on the tip of his tongue to a man twice his size. Instead, he adjusted his suit jacket and said, “Mrs. Branson and I will meet you in the sitting room.” He took his irritated wife by the arm and led her away.

When he was gone, I told the security guard, “I’m sorry, man. I will do all I can to convince him that you and your guys did your best tonight, and if it wasn’t for you he would have gotten away. I’ll talk to Vince as well.”

              “Thanks,” the kid said. It was obvious by the look on his face that he’d already kissed his job good-bye. I watched him go and then texted Blake.

             
“The Bransons are home.”

              “I’m at the gate. Be there in five or less,”
was the reply I got back.

              I went back into the living room and found Mr. Branson pouring himself a drink from one of the decanters on the bar. Mrs. Branson had her head resting in her hand on the arm of the sofa. “I’m sorry you folks had to come home to this, but I want to assure you that the first thing I did was to make sure Celia was safe, and she is. Alicia brought her down for a while when the police were searching the house. She’s back upstairs now, sleeping hopefully.”

              “That’s good,” Branson said, taking his drink and sitting down on the sofa next to his wife.

She looked up and I noticed a look pass between him and his wife before she gave me what looked like a practiced smile and said, “Yes, we’re so glad.”

              “Was this man Russian like the other one?” Branson asked.

              “I don’t know yet, sir. He wasn’t talking at all last I heard. But, while we’re on the subject, do either of you know anyone from Russia or who recently immigrated that might have some kind of grudge against your family? It could be a former employee or former house staff…”

              “Alicia is the only Russian we’ve had on staff,” Matt Branson said as he took a long sip of his drink.

              “How long has Alicia been with you?”

              “I don’t know…seven months or so,” he said.

              “Has she had any visitors since she came to live here, family or friends from Russia?”

              “Not that we’re aware of,” Matt said, once again speaking for both him and his wife. “Do you think she might know these guys?”

              “No. Russia is a big place. Again, I’m just trying to figure out who might have some kind of motive to want to get on your property and what that motive is.”

              “So you don’t think they’re trying to kidnap my daughter?” he asked.

From behind me, I heard Blake’s voice. “Is she your daughter, Mr. Branson? I mean, biologically.”

              Matt Branson jumped to his feet and splashed bourbon from the crystal glass in his hand to the Egyptian carpet underneath his feet. His wife stayed put, but she had gone from looking annoyed to looking sick. “How dare you ask me that?”

              I looked around behind me and saw Blake come into the room. “I dare because my firm can’t do its job if you aren’t a hundred percent honest with us. We have reason to believe that you had a surrogate mother for Celia.”

              Mrs. Branson snorted out a laugh. She was silenced by a stern look from her husband. “Where did you get your information?”

              “That doesn’t matter,” Blake said. “Either you come clean with me now, or we walk out of here and not come back. I will give you one chance to shoot straight here.”

              Matt Branson looked at his wife. She held his gaze for several long seconds and then said, “We found out that Julia couldn’t have children early on in our marriage. It took us a while to decide between adoption and surrogacy. We decided on surrogacy ultimately, and that is how Celia was born.”

              “Why keep it a secret?”

              “Because of our standing in the community, we just felt it would be better for Celia as she grew up if no one knew. She’s our daughter, Mr. Donovan, whether she was created the traditional way or not.”

              “I’m not disputing that. What I have an issue with, is the fact that you hired me to keep your daughter safe and try to find out who wants to kidnap her, yet you withheld from me the fact that there is someone out there who might have a very good reason to want her.”

              “It’s not her.” He stated it as a fact.

              “How can you be so sure?” I asked.

              “Because she is a tramp who is not interested in having a child in her way,” his wife said. All three of us turned to look at her. Matt Branson looked furious. Blake and I were confused and curious to hear what else Julia Branson had to say.

              “Julia…” her husband started.

              “Mrs. Branson,” Blake interrupted. “Why would you hire a surrogate to have your child if you felt that way about her?”

              “I didn’t
hire
her,” Julia said.

              “That’s enough, Julia!” Matt told her through clenched teeth.

              “No,” Blake said in his
“No more B.S.”
tone. “I’m finished playing games here. Either you come clean with me tonight, or you hire another bodyguard service and investigator.”

              Matt Branson gave his wife another dirty look and then said, “I had an affair. I was in California on business and I met a young lady…”

              “A tramp,” Julia corrected. “A slut who goes from one married man to the next.” That netted her another dirty look.

              “She and I had a brief affair. I left California believing I would never see her again. She showed up on our doorstep three months later, claiming to be pregnant with my child. My wife…has been hesitant to have a baby and I’ve wanted one for the entire thirteen years that we’ve been married. We worked out a compromise.” Julia made a huffing noise that said that her husband might be playing fast and loose with the word, “compromise.”

              “I need this woman’s name and contact information.”

              “She signed the adoption papers and a confidentiality agreement,” Matt said. “It was all on the up and up and perfectly legal.”

              “I’m not disputing any of that,” Blake said. “But surely when someone attempted to kidnap your daughter, the thought that her biological mother might have reason to be involved must have crossed your mind.”

              “No, it didn’t,” he said.

              “She’s nineteen years old,” Julia said with disgust in her voice.

              She got another dirty look from her husband, he was sobering quickly. He got up and went over to pour himself another bourbon. His hand was shaking, and I had the feeling that had Blake not forced this, the truth would have never come out. I didn’t feel sorry for him however. Matt Branson was thirty-four years old. I’m not usually one to judge, but first of all he was married and second of all he had no business messing with a girl who at that time would have been eighteen years old.

“She’s a barista at Starbucks and an aspiring actress. She wanted to have an abortion in the first place. She doesn’t want a child, and even if she did, she’d never have the resources to hire someone to help her kidnap Celia.”

              “Neither did I…” Julia said, defiantly.

              “So help me God, Julia, unless you want to pack a bag and get the hell out of here tonight, you need to shut your mouth!”

              Julia laughed. “Really? How would you like the publicity?”

              “Enough!” Blake ended that argument. “Listen carefully,” he said, “I’m walking out of here in five minutes and taking my men and your deposit with me unless one of you start talking to me about who this woman is and where I can find her. Whatever you two want to do about your train wreck of a marriage can be decided on your own time.” 

Statements like that were why Blake’s business nearly went under. I tried to keep my smile under wraps. I loved watching him in action—even if I did usually have to clean up his messes afterwards.

Before Matt could open his mouth and say something else stupid I said, “Listen, this is a very emotional issue for you both all the way around, we get that. But your child’s safety is at stake here, and we are genuinely concerned about her. But as Blake has said, we can’t do our job with only half of the information. We will keep your private life confidential. The only people we will talk about it with—other than the two of you—are the police.”

Matt brought his eyes back up to Blake’s face and said, “Her name is Belinda Garner. I will text you her address and phone number as soon as I get up to my office.”

              “Thank you,” Blake said. He was the only person in the world that I knew that could issue a thank you and make it sound more like an “F” you.

              The Bransons left the room separately. I was glad that I wouldn’t have to be any part of what was probably going to happen between them tonight. Knowing how Celia came into the world explained Julia’s lack of maternal warmth. I didn’t know if that excused it or not, but since I didn’t know anything about marriage or having a child, I would do my best to reserve judgement on that one.

              “You good to stay?” Blake asked. It was after three in the morning. I was sure Blake wouldn’t be sleeping at all today. He’d head into the office and start a background on Belinda Garner as soon as he left here.

              “I’m good,” I told him. “You go home and get some rest.”

              “I think I’ll stop by the office and see if I can find anything on this girl first.” I tried not to roll my eyes. I knew a lot of my buddies from the service with severe PTSD. They hated to go to bed at night because all they had to look forward to were nightmares. I had a fair amount of bad nights myself. I wondered if that was Blake’s problem. I wished like hell he’d talk to me about it. I knew it wouldn’t do any good to argue with him either way.