“Says you graduated from Columbia, then went on to be a police officer?” Ben looked up.
Since he didn’t ask why the career choice, I answered with a simple, “I was.”
He glanced down again. “For six years. Why’d you leave law enforcement?”
I leaned back in my chair, relaxed as much as I could. This topic generally had my insides churning, but I knew it was unavoidable.
“I was shot,” I told him straight. “My partner was killed.”
Ben’s expression softened. “I’m sorry to hear that. How old was he?”
“Four,” I told him.
Understanding dawned on his face. “Canine.”
“Correct.”
“That sucks,” Zeke muttered. It was possibly the first time I’d heard a sympathetic tone from the man.
“He’s got a dog,” Ben explained. “Probably close to the same age?” he asked Zeke.
“Yeah. His name’s Tank.” Zeke’s dark eyes locked on my face. “What happened?”
I went on to explain the night in question. I’d been called in for a search of a suspect who’d just robbed a local convenience store. After half an hour of trekking through a wooded area, Kano and I came upon the suspect hiding in a pile of brush. After I ordered him to stay put or be bitten, the man had decided fleeing was the appropriate response to my order. He ran, Kano ran. My partner tackled him seconds before a shot sounded.
“I watched Kano fall,” I explained, the pain from the memory eating away at my gut. “I didn’t think at that point, just started to run. My only thought was to save him.” Pain hit me square in the chest as the words tumbled out. “That was when the suspect fired at me. He hit me three times. In the shoulder, the arm, and the gut.” Phantom pains ghosted through me as I relived it. “I shot him, killed him.”
“That fucking sucks,” Zeke bit out through gritted teeth. “Fucking sucks.”
Yeah. That about summed it up. Although the surgeons had managed to save my life, no one had saved Kano. I had mourned the loss throughout the year it had taken to recover physically. To this day, I hadn’t completely gotten over losing him. Wasn’t sure I ever would.
“I decided it was time to retire,” I told them.
“Can’t say I blame you,” Ben said, his voice reflecting his sympathy. He peered down at my resume for a moment before looking back at me. “You’ve hopped around a few times since then.”
I nodded.
“Four companies in the past five years.” He folded his hands on his flat stomach. “Are you looking to settle?”
“I am,” I admitted, glancing over at Zeke. “I’ve got the experience you’re looking for. I’ve got the drive to assist in building this division. And I don’t have an issue managing people.”
Zeke sat up, placed his elbows on the table. “I’ll be the first to admit, I’m not all that great with people. I am, however, damn good at what I do. You’d be responsible for managing the team, hiring, firing, that sort of thing. I’ll oversee, handle my own clients, and work with you to expand.” His eyes narrowed. “But I need to know you’ll stick around.”
Direct and to the point, that summed up Zeke Lautner pretty well.
“I’ll stick,” I assured him. “I think I knew I’d end up back here one day.”
“Where are you staying?” Ben asked.
“Hotel.”
“Not very stable accommodations.”
“Just temporary. Once I figure out my plans, I’ll look for something more permanent.”
Ben nodded, glanced over at Zeke.
A second passed before Zeke pressed a button on the telephone system. “Dale, come in here.”
There was no please, no polite request in his voice. A simple command.
“Yes, Sir,” Dale said quickly.
A second later, the door opened and a young man stepped into the room. He glanced from Zeke to Ben to me, then back to Zeke.
Ben was the one who spoke up. “Could you show Mr. Cavanaugh around? We need a few minutes to chat.”
“Absolutely.” Dale smiled when his eyes came to rest on my face. “Mr. Cavanaugh, if you’ll please come with me.”
There was the polite tone. I figured someone had it.
I pushed to my feet.
“I’ll catch up with you in a few,” Zeke said curtly.
Figuring I’d been dismissed and not exactly sure how I felt about it, I followed Dale out of the conference room. He closed the door behind us, then motioned toward a set of double glass doors.
“I know you, don’t I?” I asked Dale.
Dark brown eyes swung over to meet mine. “Yes, Sir.”
I grinned. “You’re Jordan’s boyfriend.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Relax, Dale. I don’t bite.”
He chuckled, but his shoulders visibly relaxed as he began giving me the rundown of how the company had recently renovated their space, expanding from one floor to two. Gave me a glimpse of the break room, pointed out the coffeemaker, and insisted it was what got him through the day.
“I don’t drink coffee,” I admitted.
