“My father trusted you,” she said softly. “So I do as well. He wouldn’t have ever told me to come to you if he hadn’t known with absolute certainty that you were a good man and that you would help me. You’re all I’ve got, Mr. Devereaux. And beggars can’t be choosers. Especially when it comes to my parents’ lives.”
“Please, call me Beau,” he said. “Mr. Devereaux makes me feel like an old fart and I hope to hell that’s not what I look like.”
Her face flushed pink and a tiny smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. He was astonished by the change in her eyes during that one moment she’d let her guard down. He was mesmerized by the kaleidoscope of shimmering colors contained in those small orbs.
“You certainly aren’t an old fart, so Beau it is,” she said lightly.
He could sense her relaxing just a bit, some of the awful tension starting to leave her body.
“Would you like some coffee or tea? Perhaps soda?”
She shook her head and glanced down at her watch. “I’ve wasted too much time as it is. It could already be too late for them.”
Pain and distress immediately flooded her eyes once more and desolation cast dark shadows over her features.
“When did they disappear?” Beau asked, deciding to take the bull by the horns and discontinue this delicate dance to try to make her feel at ease.
“Yesterday. Yesterday afternoon,” she said, blowing out a deep breath. “I know it sounds silly to be worried when they’ve been gone less than twenty-four hours, but you have to understand. After what happened, they would never have left me for that long. They had only gone out to do some quick shopping. For me. We were moving to one of my father’s undisclosed residences so I would be shielded from the media and any other nutcase out there who might possibly come after me.”
Beau’s eyebrow lifted at the “undisclosed residence” part, but then judging by the expensive clothing Ari wore and the several 10k wraps she’d dug out of her oversized purse, not to mention the obvious security measures her father took, her family must be wealthy. He made a mental note to dig up everything he could find on Gavin Rochester as soon as he could get word to Quinn. For now, he put it aside so he could focus on the rest, but at the first opportunity, without alerting her to the fact, he would have Quinn do some discreet, but thorough, checking
The name bothered him because he was certain there was a connection to his parents and he and his brothers were suspicious of anyone associated with his parents before their “untimely” deaths.
It was possible, given Caleb was the oldest, that he might even remember Gavin or perhaps might have even met him on occasion. Their parents had moved in wealthy circles, openly flaunting their wealth and making important—and wealthy—friends. Their father hadn’t been discreet in mixing business and personal matters and had often, as Caleb had told Beau, entertained business associates in their home, allowing them to meet and mingle with the Devereaux children, though Caleb had always shadowed their younger sister, Tori, cautious about the people their parents associated with.
It was a sad testament to the fact that even at a young age Caleb hadn’t trusted his own parents. Beau only had vague memories, not specifics, and Quinn and Tori had no memory of them at all.
“They didn’t call,” Ari continued. “They didn’t let me know why they were late and all my calls to them went straight to voice mail, which tells me their phones are either turned off or have no charge left. They literally disappeared and they would never do anything to cause me worry, nor would they leave me alone on a whim. So I know something has happened to them.”
“Tell me as much as you know,” Beau encouraged. “Don’t leave anything out, no matter how insignificant it might seem. We need all the information you can supply so we at least have a starting point.”
She went still, holding her breath, her nostrils quivering as she stared back at him. “Does that mean you’ll take the job?”
“I need to hear all the facts, but yes, DSS will help you.”
Her nostrils flared with sudden exhalation and her shoulders visibly sagged.
“Thank God,” she whispered. “I didn’t know what else to do, who else to turn to. The men my father hired can’t be trusted. I can’t afford to trust anyone. But my father obviously had faith in you and your brother so I have to go with his judgment.”
“Why do you say the men your father hired can’t be trusted?” he asked, though he had a very good idea now that the puzzle pieces were coming together. Those bruises didn’t get there by accident.
“My father only took two of his security detail with him and my mother. My father is very capable of defending himself and my mother, but he took two and left the rest of the detail with me at the house.
“When I realized that they weren’t coming back, I went outside, hoping to get their attention. I knew they were there, but I couldn’t see them. They weren’t inside with me.”
Beau frowned. Why the hell wouldn’t her father have made certain that the house was every bit as guarded on the inside as the outside?
“After I got no response when I called out for help, I dug through my purse for the keys to the vehicles my father owns. When I looked up, one of the men was there. He told me my parents were ‘fine’ and then before I could react, he hit me.”
Her hand went to her face though he doubted she was conscious of the act. Fury left a foul taste in his mouth at the idea of this young woman, so delicate, would be brutalized by a much larger man. A man who was supposed to protect her.
“When I looked up from where I was sprawled, he was coming toward me and I saw a syringe in his hand. I knew he intended to drug me. And that he obviously wanted me alive, otherwise he could have just killed me as soon as I walked out of the house.”
Beau nodded his agreement with her assessment but remained silent so she would continue, without distraction.
“I knew I could never physically fight him off. He was twice my size and he just screamed military. That look, you know? He was absolutely cold and methodical. I also knew that while he may have had orders to keep me alive, it didn’t mean that he wouldn’t hurt me in the process.”
She trailed off for a moment and her lips formed a tight, white line. She’d grown pale and her respirations were much more shallow and rapid. She stared at him, her gaze penetrating as she studied him. As though she were at a crucial point in deciding whether to fully trust him or to censor some of the information so he wouldn’t know all of it.
But he waited, not offering argument, nor did he try to compel her to trust him. It was a decision she had to make on her own, one he wouldn’t bully her into making. If he was going to help her, he needed one hundred percent of her trust. Which meant telling him everything.
“You obviously saw the video,” she said, her voice trembling. “You’ve had to have seen the speculation and drawn your own conclusions about who and what I am.”
“I’d rather hear it directly from you,” he said calmly. “I don’t form an opinion without all the facts.”
She flashed him a grateful look and then once more squared her shoulders resolutely.
“I have special . . . powers,” she said hesitantly. “Telekinesis. I don’t know if it’s my only power because all my life my parents have tried to hide me—and my abilities—from the public eye. So I never used them. Not since I was a young child and didn’t know better. So it was blind instinct to use them when I was attacked. I wasn’t rational enough to simply try and escape without using my powers. And now everyone knows or suspects and God only knows what else they think or assume about me.”
Her gaze was wary as she studied him intently, waiting for his reaction. He refused to give her one, though it was what she expected.
“I know it sounds crazy,” she said in a low voice.
“You’d be surprised by what I don’t find crazy,” he said calmly.
She relaxed even more, some of the doubt and fear evaporating from her eyes.
&nbs
p; “I called my father to tell him what happened and he told me to get in my car and he’d be there shortly. I’m almost certain he somehow manipulated the security camera footage so that it would be obvious that I was acting in self-defense but at the same time not showing how I defended myself. We never dreamed someone not only witnessed the incident but videoed it as well. And now it’s everywhere.”
She closed her eyes, her face suddenly showing signs of stress and fatigue.
“I don’t know what else to tell you that would be helpful. I wasn’t involved in my father’s business matters. All I know is that he and my mother left after saying they’d be gone no longer than two hours and that’s the last I’ve heard from them.”
“And your attacker told you they were fine.”
She nodded. “How do I know he was telling the truth?” Then she sighed again and rubbed absently at her forehead. “I should have just let him take me. Why bother sedating someone if you want them dead? He could have shot me on sight and gotten away with it. I should have just let him drug me so that maybe he’d take me to wherever my parents are or perhaps even free them since it’s obvious that it’s me they want.”
Beau’s face drew into a scowl before he could call it back. “That is not the answer. If they want you so badly then they’ll use your parents as bargaining chips because if they kill them, you’ll never cooperate with them. They’ll try to contact you. They’ll likely want to arrange for a trade. You for them.”
She nodded.
“’That’s never going to happen, Ari,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “What other choice do I have?”
“You chose to come to me. That was your choice. Because deep down where fear isn’t fueling your irrational thoughts, you know I’m right and that if you surrender yourself to them, you’ll be signing your parents’ death warrant.”
NINE
ARI stared at Beau Devereaux seated in the chair across the desk from her. He looked relaxed and at ease but there was something in his eyes. Something dark and formidable. He was an imposing, intimidating man. Tall and muscular with strong features and bone structure.
He wasn’t pretty by a long shot. There was nothing polished or refined about him, though she knew he and his brothers were wealthy. He had a rough edge to him that would always give people pause and, if they were smart, make them wary of ever crossing him.
She was hiring him, and she should be the one who held the power and yet he thoroughly intimidated her. He looked . . . hard. Like nothing ever unnerved him. And perhaps that was a good thing. She needed hard and ruthless if her parents were going to be found.
“Do you have somewhere safe to stay?” Beau queried as he studied her.
She tried to push the sudden panic down, but it nipped persistently at her nape and she knew she’d utterly failed to keep it from her expression. She’d never been adept at hiding her emotions. Her father had tried to teach her to be unreadable, but it was a futile effort. She just wasn’t wired that way. And she knew, judging by Beau’s expression, that she’d failed miserably in keeping the dismay from her eyes.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “My father’s security detail would most likely know the locations of all his residences. I don’t know about all of them. I’ll have to check into a hotel under an alias. My father provided ID and passports as well as cash in the safe-deposit box.”
Once again, Beau’s eyebrow lifted and she could only imagine what he was thinking. It did sound like her father was some sort of crime lord, because he shrouded himself in secrecy and security. She’d honestly never given it a thought. It was the way her father had been since she was old enough to remember, so she accepted it as normal, never considering how others would view his extreme security measures.
She assumed all he did was in protection of her. So that her powers would never be scrutinized by the public. And she’d failed him and her mother. Everything they’d done for the last twenty-four years had been washed away in a single moment of panic.
“I understand that your first concern is your parents and their safety,” Beau said gently. “But you are in danger as well. You can’t think only of them.”
“Tell me what I should do then,” she said, trying to keep the helplessness from her voice. She was an adult woman still emotionally dependent on her parents. She didn’t like the fact that she had no idea what to do, what action to take, now that her father wasn’t there guiding her with a gentle hand. It embarrassed and shamed her.
“For now, you come home with me,” Beau said. “Security is extremely tight, and I can be assured of your safety until we figure out our next step. Do you know who Ramie St. Claire is?”
Her brows knitted at the sudden change of subject.
“Yes, of course. Who doesn’t?”
Ramie St. Claire had been all over the news in the last year. She was a psychic who possessed extraordinary abilities to locate kidnap victims.
Ari’s breath caught in her throat. Of course! Why hadn’t she thought of it sooner? If Ramie could track victims, perhaps she could find her parents.
But as soon as the thought hit her, she sagged, momentarily deflated. How could she possibly contact the young psychic when she’d completely disappeared from the public eye?
“She’s married to Caleb,” Beau continued. “I can’t promise you that she’ll help. Caleb is very protective of her and her gift comes at a very high price because she experiences everything the victim does. But if you have something—an object—that was a particular favorite of your mother or father, or something they used frequently, it’s possible she could locate them using that object.”
Ari’s heart leapt and her pulse stuttered, causing her breath to hitch uncomfortably.
“Cover your hair back up as you had it before and put your sunglasses back on. I’ll summon our driver to meet us in front. Usually I drive myself, but I’m not parked close and I don’t want you exposed or alone in the time it takes me to go get it and pick you up.”
Ari blinked, wondering how they’d gotten from her wanting to hire him to her going home with him and him taking over completely. But even as she found herself questioning him, she obeyed without hesitation, redoing her disguise.
When she was finished, Beau picked up the phone and dialed a number. She listened while he tersely informed the driver to pick them up directly in front of the entrance to the building. When he finished the call to his driver, he inquired as to how she’d gotten here, and when she explained about the BMW parked curbside not far from the entrance to the building, he shook his head, frowning, then placed yet another call and instructed someone to pick it up and deliver it to Beau’s home.
While she’d certainly hoped he’d agree to help her, she hadn’t quite expected this kind of reaction. It felt as though her entire world had been upended and she wasn’t in control of any aspect.
It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. But then when had she truly ever been in absolute control of her life?
As Beau rose from his chair, she did the same, suddenly nervous and unsure of herself. But, as she’d already acknowledged, she had no other choice. She knew she couldn’t trust any of her father’s men, even if they weren’t all traitors. The safest course was to assume they were all after her for whatever reason.
Which left the men—man—her father had always told her to seek out. If her father had placed his trust and her well-being into Beau Devereaux’s hands, then surely she could do the same. She’d never questioned her father’s judgment before and she wasn’t about to start now.
With a deep breath, she allowed Beau to herd her out of his office and into the lobby area where their receptionist was stationed.
“Let Quinn know he’s covering the office today, and let him know I’ll check in with him later to give him the rundown.”
Anita nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll call him now.”
Ari gasped in shock when Beau actually growled at his receptionist and se
nt her a scowl. Before she could think better of herself, she elbowed Beau in the ribs, frowning at him in reprimand.
“Did you just growl at her?” Ari whispered in astonishment.
To her additional surprise, instead of looking chastened, Anita burst into laughter and smiled at Ari.
“Don’t mind him. He hates that I call him sir and Mr. Devereaux. He’s convinced it makes him sound like an old fart and he doesn’t take it well that a woman older than him addresses him as sir. He insists that he call me ma’am, but I’m not to reciprocate and give him that same respect.”
Her eyes twinkled merrily as Beau’s scowl grew darker.
“He has good southern gentlemen manners, for sure,” Anita continued. “They don’t make them like they used to and Beau is definitely a throwback. But I call him sir and Mr. Devereaux just to needle him. Especially when he gets too serious. Which is pretty much all the time,” she said blithely, unruffled by Beau’s reaction.
A smile hovered on Ari’s lips despite the fact that her situation was dire and she was frantic over the disappearance of her parents.
“So you’re saying I should drive him crazy by calling him sir or Mr. Devereaux?” Ari asked in an innocent voice.
“Yep,” Anita said, still grinning unrepentantly.
Beau’s fingers curled firmly around Ari’s wrist and he all but dragged her from the suite of offices to the elevator.
“My father always said I wasn’t serious enough,” Ari said lightly as they descended. “That my heart was too soft and I was too gullible and naïve for my own good. It appears you go too far in the opposite direction so perhaps we’ll balance one another out.”
He shot her a look, his eyebrows rising, and she immediately blushed, heat burning her cheeks as she realized how what she’d said sounded.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said hastily, nearly groaning over sticking her foot in her mouth. Yet another thing her father said she did frequently.
“Like what?” Beau asked in a mild tone.
She was sure she turned even redder. “Like we have some sort of a relationship. You know, yin and yang, that sort of thing. It was a stupid thing for me to say. But my mouth often gets ahead of my brain.”
“So which one of us is Yin and which is Yang?”
It took her a moment to realize he was joking. He was teasing her.
She laughed, shaking her head. “And your receptionist accuses you of being too serious. Maybe she’s never experienced your sense of humor?”
“I don’t have a sense of humor,” he muttered. “Ask anyone. They’ll tell you I’m the grumpy bastard of the Devereaux clan.”
“Hmmm. I guess I’ll have to wait and create an informed opinion. Where are we going?”
The abrupt change in subject had Beau looking at her in confusion.
She sighed. “I do that too, unfortunately. You’ll experience it soon enough. But I tend to blurt out whatever happens to cross my mind at the time. My parents are adept at following my train of thought but others? Not so much.”
He smiled, the action completely transforming his grim features. He suddenly looked . . . approachable. Not at all the intimidating figure he’d been in his office.
The elevator doors slid open and they exited to pass the security desk where Ari returned her badge.
Beau’s eyebrows lifted when his gaze skimmed over the pass.
“You weren’t exaggerating when you said you had multiple aliases.”
Ari shot him a serious look so he’d know she wasn’t in the least exaggerating. “Yes, I have three sets of identification. Driver’s license and passports for all three names. My father always told me that if I had need of them it was best to switch them around so that no one ever caught on to one and was able to track me. It sounded paranoid at the time and I just put it down to my father’s overprotectiveness because that certainly wasn’t anything new to me or my mother. But I honestly never thought I’d actually need them. Obviously I was wrong and should have paid more attention to the measures my father went to in order to secure my safety. It’s almost as if he knew that I’d need them one day. I just don’t know why.”
Her voice trailed off as Beau pulled her into the rotating door. She hastily felt for her scarf and glasses, ensuring they were covering what they should. She was glad for the sunglasses, because the sun was particularly bright today and she would have been momentarily blinded by the sudden wash of light.
She saw the car parked directly in front of the building, blocking one lane of traffic, and knew it had to be Beau’s vehicle. But when they started forward, someone bumped into Beau, knocking him slightly off balance for a moment.
At the same time, the glass shattered behind them and screams went up. Ari found herself shoved painfully to the cracked pavement, Beau’s body covering hers completely.
She heard his violent curse and felt him fumbling for something. She turned her head, trying to see what had happened, and terror clenched her insides when she saw Beau had pulled a gun she hadn’t even realized he carried.
“Stay down,” he said harshly. “Do not make a single move until I tell you.”
She nodded, not trusting her voice to even work. Her throat was paralyzed and fear was fast closing off her airway.
At this point there wasn’t much more damage Ari could do that hadn’t already been done by the video of her using her powers and so she focused on two metal waste bins that lined the sidewalk further down.
They hovered in the air and then streaked toward her and Beau before coming to rest in front of them, giving them some cover at least. When Beau realized what she’d done, he cursed again.
But if he thought to reprimand her, he didn’t take the time. She was suddenly hauled to her feet and shoved between Beau and what she assumed was his driver and they dove toward the car.
Ari landed in the backseat and cracked her head on the opposite door handle. Her already bruised body was taking yet another beating. She could feel every single one of those bruises and sore ribs screaming their protests.
“Go, go, go!” Beau barked. “Get us the hell out of here.”