Page 5 of Unexpected Hero

Speaking of which, I need to get back to the club. It’s been too long since I’ve blown off some steam inside a soft, warm body.

A few minutes after he gets settled, he queues up his Dean Martin playlist and raises his brows at me questioningly.

I flick my wrist at him. “Fine.”

Although I prefer Sammy Davis Jr., I don’t mind Dean.

A few hours into our workday, a notification comes through, capturing my attention instantly.

Looks like someone I’ve been tracking has appeared in Florida, according to her social media post. Interesting. And potentially problematic. Let’s see what she’s doing here.

Maybe she’s on vacation. After the death of her so-called father, she may have needed to get away.

I glance discreetly at Klein, noting he’s bopping along to the music and focused on his programming task. It should take him at least another two hours, given his slow speed. He probably won’t pay any mind to what I’m doing. And if he does, I’ll explain that I’m researching a private case for Boss.

It’s almost true.

Planting my feet, I gently shove away from the desk and rotate to another machine with the power needed to run facial recognition. With a shake of the mouse, the screen comes to life. A dozen keystrokes and clicks later, I’ve got the program searching for her. I need to see where she’s headed.

While that runs, I return to my main machine to perform a series of web searches, some of which need more aggressive tactics than others to present me with what I need.

Bingo. There she is.

Violet Holt.

Her debit card was used to check into a seedy residential hotel earlier today. One of those pay-by-the-week types with kitchenettes and questionable clientèle. A place where you’re likely to have a prostitute in the room on the right and a drug dealer in one on the left.

I don’t like this one bit.

That’s not a vacation resort, nor is it a condo rental. This is Clearwater, and there are thousands of places to stay that are better than that shit hole. Some are fairly affordable.

What is she doing? Has she gotten mixed up with a bad crowd? Or is she in danger?

Boss wouldn’t like his daughter to be unprotected in a place like that.

If he knew about her, that is.

But he doesn’t know she exists.

That’s why I’m watching over her. It’s what he would want me to do until I can tell him about her.

Ten minutes later, I’m bustling with nerves. There’s an antsy stirring in my gut that gets harder to ignore as the minutes tick by.

Something tells me she isn’t safe.

After another twenty minutes, my knee bounces uncontrollably under the desk.

Klein notices, tossing me a bemused glance. “What’s with the shakes? You good?”

Not answering directly, I push my chair back from my desk. “I’m going to run out for lunch. Can you watch over shit for an hour?”

He holds out his knuckles for a fist bump. “No problem.”

Ignoring his offer, I lock my systems and head out.

Fifteen minutes later, I arrive at the hotel. With a ball cap pulled down low and dark sunglasses on, I park around back, a few spaces away from what I recognize as Violet’s car.

While deciding what to do next, I study the area, cataloging the make and models of the cars in the vicinity. I jot down all the visible license plate numbers. I’ll check those when I get back to the office.

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