Page 8 of Bringing Chelsea Home

The older woman’s smile was sad but kind. “Nothing you could do about it, Lieutenant Tyler. Indeed, I hate to think of what could have happened if you hadn’t been here. Just keep Elaine safe.”

“Yes ma’am,” Griff said as she left the room. After warning Elaine to stay close to Griff, Miller departed as well. Elaine stared after him, then looked at Griff. “Is Griff your actual name or a nickname?”

“Griffin Allen if I annoy you. Otherwise, just Griff.”

A smile hovered around her lips. “Okay, Griff. What do we do now?”

“We’re going to BP’s safehouse,” Griff repeated. “What about extra clothing? After this, you can’t go back to your house.”

“I expected that,” Elaine admitted. “Anne told me how thorough BP is about such things, so I packed a large suitcase and left it with her, thinking she’d know where to bring it when the time came.”

“That was smart,” Griff acknowledged. Considering everything that had happened to her this week, her calm thinking was admirable.

Solemnity stole her smile. “Anne told me a lot about her experience with BP, and your help in finding her niece,” she said. “And that I could trust you completely.”

“I’ll try to live up to that,” Griff promised, touched by Anne Hamilton’s faith in him. He took his phone from his jacket pocket, texted Anne about Elaine’s suitcase and then their driver. “Let’s go wait in the foyer. Patrick Danton, our BP driver, will be here in less than five minutes.”

“Are we going in the garbage truck?” she asked as they made their way to the front of the church.

Astonishment joined Griff’s admiration. “Anne told you about the garbage truck?” He’d picked up reporter Anne Hamilton and Mac from her office athernewspaper, Excelsior, in a borrowed garbage truck and wearing an outrageous disguise after someone blew up her car.

Elaine’s laugh spiraled over him like a wave of warm autumn sunlight. “She did indeed. She couldn’t stop laughing about it, or your costume and warned me to always expect the unexpected from you.”

A vintage LTD pulled up at the steps. A tall, powerfully built man eased out and propped his arms on the top of the car. Cocking his head, he asked, “Is this the lady?”

“Elaine Prescott, meet BP member Patrick Danton,” Griff answered. “Patrick, this is BP’s newest client, Elaine Prescott, who has had a very scary week, including an attack on her just a few minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Ms. Prescott.” Patrick inclined his head and smiled. His blond hair was cut short, he sported a neatly trimmed beard and curiosity flickered in his dark blue eyes. “Who would want to kill such a lovely woman?”

“It’s a long story,” Elaine told him. “And I could use a cup of tea.”

“We can take care of that,” Griff promised, leading her down the church steps and opening the back door for her. Once they were settled and enroute, Griff asked, “Did Anne Hamilton tell you all my tricks?”

She appeared to be thinking about it and then said, “I don’t think so.”

“Good.” Griff sighed in relief. “Then at least I still have the advantage of being able to surprise you.”

CHAPTER5

A short timelater

“I know it looks like a dump, but that’s only on the outside.” Griff fitted a key into the lock and opened the building’s front door. “That’s why Hank Patterson bought it.”

Elaine stared after the departing vehicle. “Where is Patrick going?”

“Probably running an errand for Hank,” Griff said. “He’ll be back shortly.”

“And this is BP’s safehouse?” Elaine asked. The building’s red-brick façade needed scrubbing. So did the windows. The two other buildings by this one and tucked into this almost hidden corner of Knoxville were every bit as bad, but they looked vaguely familiar. “Wait a moment. Are these the old warehouses belonging to the Taylor Family who owned one of Knoxville’s first coffee roasting companies?”

“You got it,” Griff said unlocking the door. “The warehouse is closer to the river, but the company was left to three maiden sisters by their father sometime after the Civil War. They each wanted their own office, so they had these built so they could keep out of each other’s way but close enough to share the day-to-day business. Their heirs eventually sold the company and the buildings.

“Is Mr. Patterson familiar with Knoxville?” she asked as they stepped into the surprisingly well-lit and clean hallway. “Who told him about this place?”

“Surprise number one.” Griff locked the door behind them. “I did. Or rather my Aunt Sally did. She’s one of the best realtors in Knoxville and was overjoyed to get this property off her hands right before the holidays. Especially for what Hank offered to pay. He’s still trying to buy the other one, but the third one was already sold.”

“Sounds good,” Elaine admitted. “Does BP use this entire building?”

“Not quite,” Griff said, leading them down a long corridor to an elevator. “The first and second floors are just dummy offices to look as if there are other businesses here in case someone manages to break in. BP uses the top three floors. We’re fully wired with cameras, motion detectors and by the first of the year, we’ll have palm print recognition for the doors. Living quarters are on the fifth floor, security and computer labs on the third and fourth.”

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