Page 27 of Silos and Sabotage

Gage waved at the attendant in the tiny guard shack, circled the garage, and headed to the lower level where he usually parked. Instead of heading to his office in the back of the building, he walked up the wide, central hallway toward the front of the building. The first floor boasted all original beige and white checkered tiles. They were polished to such a high shine that his rubber-soled combat boots squeaked against them.

The security firm owners had been careful to preserve so many historic elements of the building, so only a few people knew the extent to which they’d actually renovated the place. The two-story front lobby still had the same marbled white walls and gold metallic paint trimming the windows, but every inch of it was now under video surveillance. Gage might as well have smiled and waved, since every step he took was being recorded on camera.

The area behind the old mahogany clerk counters at the front of the building had been converted into cubicles for the security guards. Men like Johnny Cuba, who’d been hired primarily for their muscles, didn’t require a lot of desk space. From a few of Johnny’s snide comments over the past few months, Gage suspected that his own private office didn’t set too well with the guy. In some ways, Gage didn’t blame him. As Lonestar’s first private investigator in training, he was the most junior employee in terms of his hire date. However, the nature of his line of work required both solitude and secrecy. Having his own office wasn’t special treatment. It was simply the nature of the beast.

He paused before reaching the cubicles to face the closed door of Gil Remington’s office. To test a theory of his, he raised his fist and made the motion of knocking, halting just before his knuckles hit the door.

“Come in.” Gil’s voice came through the speaker system embedded in the door. There was a faint clicking sound as the automatic locking system disengaged.

Gage held back a grin as he entered the room without ever actually knocking.

Gil took one look at his face and snorted. “Have a seat.” He waved a hand at the pair of leather chairs in front of his executive style desk — a solid cherry wood throne with elegant inlays. A built-in bookcase with glass doors took up most of the wall behind his desk.

Gage sat. “Ella is remembering.”

Gil nodded sagely. “I’m not surprised.” His Stetson was tossed on the edge of his desk. Since he usually had it on, there was a hat line circling his wavy hair. It was auburn threaded with a few strands of frost.

“She plans to use her inheritance to hire us,” he continued bluntly.

Gil sat back in his chair, looking somber. “She wants justice for her father.”

“So do I.” Gage watched his supervisor’s expression carefully. There was no change in it. No ripple of curiosity. If anything, there was a hint of amusement in it. “You don’t look surprised.”

“Very few things surprise me these days.” Gil’s voice was dry. “In case you weren’t aware, we do our own, very thorough background checks on every new hire.”

“Lemme guess.” Gage felt a little foolish as he asked, “You already know my connection to Mick Lawton?”

“Yep.”

“And my real reason for coming to work for you?”

“Yep.”

“Yet you hired me anyway.”

Gil’s eyebrows rose. “Have you considered the possibility that your interest in seeking justice for the Lawtons might align with our interests here at Lonestar Security?”

Gage felt even more foolish than before as he shook his head.

“Mick was both a hometown boy and a war hero. We’ve been keeping a close eye on the progress the police have made on his case.”

“Or failed to make,” Gage intoned bitterly.

“That sounds like a lead in to something.” Gil folded his hands in front of him on his desk. “I’m listening.”

“Well, since you didn’t show me the door after finding out my sole reason for applying for this job?—”

“Not sure I agree with that.” Gil grunted in derision. “I’ve watched you in action for ten straight months. You’re never going to convince me you didn’t enjoy tracking down the Miller family’s stolen truck and helping reunite the Eversons with their runaway teen.”

“I did enjoy it, sir.” Only Gil could turn a well-deserved scolding into such an encouraging, backhanded compliment.

His boss’s lips twitched. “It feels good meting out our cowboy brand of justice, doesn’t it? Having the backs of our underpaid, overworked police counterparts and helping the long arm of the law stretch even farther.”

“It does, sir.” He liked Gil’s description of the services Lonestar Security offered.Our cowboy brand of justice.It sounded like something that belonged on the back of a t-shirt or hoodie.

“But you didn’t pay me a visit for career counseling this morning.” Gil gave him a piercing look. “What can I help you with?”

“I want to be the lead investigator on the Lawton case.” It was a bold request for the company’s newest recruit. However, Gage was convinced he was the right person for the task.

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