Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“Not a problem. I don’t mind the drive out to EVE.” Ace scanned the space to see glass, steel, and organized precision. “I’d love to look through this whole place.”
Damian chuckled, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Yeah. So would I. Believe it or not, there are two floors I don’t have access to.”
Ace’s attention snapped back to him. That wasn’t nothing. “Is that really why you took this job?”
Damian’s green eyes were assessing and impossible to read. “Of course not. I’m here to provide security.”
Yeah, right. Ace might not know a lot of things sometimes, but he knew his brother. That wasn’t it. Not even close. Something else lived under Damian’s calm tone, something tight and coiled. “If you say so.” For now, anyway. Ace walked toward the wide window. Knife’s Edge Mountain rose in the distance, its peaks stunning in the summer light, still tipped with white. The view was breathtaking. “I like your office. It suits you.”
“I’m comfortable here.” Damian gestured toward a black leather sofa. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.” Ace sat, rolling his neck once, tension cracking softly along his spine.
The door opened without warning. A woman hustled inside, brisk and efficient, who appeared to be in her early sixties. Cat’s-eye glasses framed her blue eyes, and her hair was pulled tight into a bun, while the green suit she wore was immaculate with the skirt falling to beneath her knees. Her shoes sparkled with green sequins and high heels at total odds with the rest of her outfit. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you come in, Mr. Osprey,” she said. “Would either of you like water, tea, coffee, or anything else?”
Damian glanced at Ace.
“No thanks. I’m good,” Ace said.
“Thank you, Elisa, but we’re fine,” Damian added.
Elisa nodded and her lips thinned before she turned and disappeared.
Ace watched the door close, then shifted his gaze back to his brother, a faint amusement stirring in him. “I get the feeling she doesn’t like you.”
Damian shook his head, his thick hair curling behind his ears as he exhaled. “I know. She’s been my secretary for months and is still pissed her former boss had to retire. I think she was in love with him.”
“But you’re such a charmer.”
“That’s what they say,” Damian drawled.
Ace settled deeper into the sofa. “Speaking of which, any luck finding your wife?”
Damian’s nostrils flared with a rare show of irritation. “No. She wouldn’t have come to town in the spring if she didn’t want something. She’ll show up again, no doubt.”
That had to be driving the man crazy. Ace looked around again. The office carried a quiet, high-level tension with glass surfaces and steel edges. “Why did you ask me to drive out here today?”
Damian reached for a stack of file folders resting on the glass table between them. The movement was smooth and controlled. Like Damian himself. “I did some research on your doctor and Kyle Mercer.”
Ace leaned forward as the folder changed hands. Paper whispered against paper. “Did you find the domestic violence issue from Mercer’s college days?”
“I did.” Damian’s tone flattened. “The reason it never went anywhere is the accuser died.”
Ace froze, fingers tightening on the folder. “She died?”
“Yeah. Car accident.” Damian gave a small shrug. “It looks legit from the file. Everything’s in there.”
Ace flipped the folder open, his pulse kicking harder. “What were the allegations?”
“He was in college and she was a waitress from the college town.” Damian’s gaze stayed steady. “They apparently got into an altercation one night at a bar. Police were called.”
“What about her injuries?”
Damian tapped a finger once on the table. “I couldn’t find much. It looks more like an allegation without a lot of physical evidence. The woman died three days later. The accident report’s in there.”
Ace scanned the pages, a cold awareness settling inside him. The air in the room felt heavier now, pressing against his ribs. “You think it’s legit?”
“I don’t know.” Damian checked his watch. “I don’t see anything in Mercer’s past suggesting he could have someone taken out. However, his father’s a hedge fund manager at Red Mot Holdings out of New York. We’re talking serious money. So, it’s possible.”
Ace closed the folder halfway, his mind racing. “Did you find anything else?”
“Yes.” Damian gestured toward the file. “Two other domestic violence calls after college. Different women. Both still alive. Cases didn’t go anywhere. First one, the woman wouldn’t testify. Second one, same thing. Prosecutor tried to move forward anyway, then it was dropped.”
“Was this before or after he became a senator?”
“The second one was after. But timeline-wise, it was before he dated May. If you go further in the file, there are pictures of them together at different events in D.C.” Damian smoothed his perfectly pressed pants. His expression shifted subtly. “They don’t fit. They don’t look right together.”
Ace slid out a photo from the folder to see May in a sparkling silver gown at a fancy celebration with champagne and chandeliers. “The doc looks stunning.” He studied the image, uneasiness sliding under his skin. “She doesn’t look like she belongs in Knife’s Edge.”