Dead by Midnight - Beverly Barton [17]
That had been two and a half hours ago. If Nic had been there, she wouldn’t have kept Maleah waiting. But she and Sanders were not close friends, simply coworkers at the agency. It wasn’t that she disliked Sanders. Quite the contrary was true. She liked and respected Griff’s right-hand man, but she found his formal manners and his military bearing if not exactly intimidating then at the very least forbidding. From the first time she had taken her turn as head of security at Griffin’s Rest, a position that routinely rotated among agents, she had thought it odd and at the same time rather endearing that the solemn, austere Sanders and the sweet, gregarious Barbara Jean were a couple. It was obvious to everyone that she adored him and that he, in his own way, cared deeply for her.
It wasn’t until she and Nic had become close friends that Nic told her Sanders had, years ago, lost his wife and child. If Nic had known the particulars of the tragedy, she had not seen fit to share the information with Maleah. Sanders himself was as secretive about his past, if not more so, than Griff was; but Barbara Jean was an open book. Everyone who knew her knew she had been paralyzed in a devastating car accident and after many surgeries and years of physical therapy, she had been left a paraplegic. She considered herself lucky to have survived and found joy in her life every day. The topic she chose not to discuss, but that everyone at Powell’s was aware of, was the fact that her younger sister had been one of the many victims of the Beauty Queen Killer, who had also murdered the first wife of one of Griff’s best friends, Judd Walker.
Maleah was deep in thought—remembering the last time she had seen the Walkers, Judd and his new wife and their two young daughters—when the phone rang. She recognized the number immediately. Griffin’s Rest.
“Hello.”
“I received your message,” Sanders said.
“Then you know that I called to get your okay to take on a new client.”
“Lorie Hammonds is a friend of your brother’s wife. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Lorie and Cathy are best friends.”
“And Ms. Hammonds has received two letters threatening her life?”
“Yes.”
“Have you notified the local authorities?”
“I have. I personally spoke to Sheriff Mike Birkett last night.”
“And you believe that the situation warrants the Powell Agency becoming involved.”
“Yes. Pro bono. Ms. Hammonds is not a rich woman.”
“I see.”
Maleah could tell by the tone of Sanders’s voice that he was actually considering denying her request. “Look, I’m on vacation, but if you’ll give me an okay to take Lorie on as a client, I’ll work without pay for the duration of my time off from the agency.”
Silence.
Damn it, say something. But when he remained silent, she knew he was thinking about her proposition.
“Agreed,” Sanders told her. “You took time off to stay in Dunmore for two weeks, on a paid vacation. Use that time to begin the investigation, and if when your vacation comes to an end you have found evidence that Ms. Hammonds’s life is in danger, then Powell’s will pick up the tab for continuing the investigation.”
She breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “Thank you. I assume this means that the agency’s resources are at my disposal?”
“Certainly. However, unless you can show me the necessity of additional agents becoming involved—”
“I don’t think Lorie needs a personal bodyguard at this point, but if she does, I’ll handle it.”
“Then feel free to proceed. And if while Griffin and Nicole are away, you require anything else, simply let me know.”
“Yes, thanks. I will.”
“Good day, Maleah,” Sanders said, ever the courteous if somewhat stern gentleman.
Lorie had changed clothes four times that morning. The routine of bathing, doing her hair, applying makeup, and dressing usually took about an hour, less if she hurried. But today it had taken her two hours. When she had put on the first outfit and checked herself in the mirror, all she had seen was how large her breasts looked in the clingy yellow