Page 91 of Always Been Mine

“He’s been there a day,” Beatrice reminded him. Actually, less than a day.

“Well, he’s already gone and interrogated one of the senator’s visitors from the Colombian government who oversees exports.”

“Was the man on an advance dossier given to the security team?”

Zach pressed his lips together.

“Zach?”

“With the trip coming up, we’ve had an influx of dignitaries from South America. Our staff is overworked,” the Chief of Staff defended. “So no, he wasn’t. But Reece overreacted.” Zach’s eyes bore into hers. “Is there a threat you’re keeping from us, Beatrice? We’ve already beefed up security after the junkyard incident. Why was Reece suddenly inserted into the senator’s detail without an accompanying re-assessment? You even have Shephard guarding you. I understood when it was Sullivan, but now . . .”

He let his words trail off and flipped his right hand in an irritated gesture. She also could have imagined a slight sneer curving Zach’s lips.

She wished she was more prepared for this meeting and had formulated a standard answer. Good thing a server brought their coffee and pastry orders, which gave her a few seconds to compose her reply.

“No different threat than was assessed after the junkyard ambush,” Beatrice said. “It’s just that the Senator’s trip to South America is approaching; I did warn you that we would ramp up security leading up to the trip and the addition of personnel is fluid up to ten. Also, I’ve been hearing dissent with regards to the Immigration and Border Security bill, which goes to vote after the senator’s trip. That’s still two months out, but you can be sure those in opposition will take action before then. BSI can never be too careful.”

Beatrice didn’t like the way Zach’s eyes scrutinized her, as if stripping her defenses to get to the core of her lie. Her answer was weak at most, too generic, but was valid.

Zach’s phone buzzed. He checked it, his face tightening. When his eyes returned to hers, they were so chilly; she felt a shiver snake up her spine.

“Is everything all right?” Beatrice asked. “Was that the senator’s office? I know Travis went over there to talk to the senator.”

“I know he did,” Zach said. “I told Senator Mendoza we couldn’t have a man like Reece on our security team and we’d have to shop for a different company if BSI insists on including him. This is why I wanted to talk to you. I like you, Beatrice.” The way he said her name sparked a deadly sense of déjà vu.

. . . so you had no idea, poor Beatrice.

She ignored the ringing in her ears and took a sip of coffee, trying to concentrate on Zach’s words.

“You’re astute, smart, and capable,” he continued. “Surely you can recommend a different security firm.”

“You were the ones set on BSI. I was recommending a different company.”

“My point exactly,” Zach purred. “You knew our needs more than we did. We should have listened to you. Reece is too inexperienced to handle the complex day-to-day activities of our office.”

Beatrice bristled at the obvious dig at Nate. At that moment, she despised Zach Jamison. Nate may not have an impressive resume like Travis, but that was only because he had worked clandestine missions for the CIA, missions he couldn’t list as accomplishments. She valued her clients, but she loved her BSI boys more and would protect them like a lioness defending her cubs, even if she lost business.

“Nathan Reece is an invaluable member of BSI,” Beatrice said carefully. “From what you’ve told me of what had transpired, I can only conclude he was doing his job. Your assessment of Nate’s skills is different from mine. BSI’s track record speaks for itself. Foreign and local dignitaries all have glowing reviews of their services. If our basic beliefs about what is crucial security for the senator are different, I’m not your person. Trust goes both ways, Zach. If the security team can’ttrust the person they’re protecting to do what they’re told, then a working relationship is not possible.”

The Chief of Staff’s expression turned more remote; gone was the charm that Beatrice was used to.

Her phone buzzed with a text message. It was from Gabe.

Her stomach bottomed out.

16

Gabe perusedthe document in front of him while he waited for the artist to finish the facial composite of the man Johnny saw with Ventura. It was a long shot because the last time Johnny saw them was around a week after Ryker’s demise. Dr. Ryan stepped out of the room, her eyes zeroing in on Gabe. She was not pleased.

“I gave you my number just in case Beatrice had issues, not to call me for your own problems,” the doctor said sternly.

“This guy may lead us to who abducted Beatrice,” Gabe replied.

“That’s what you told me on the phone and the only reason I came. Don’t make it a habit, Mr. Sullivan.”

“Can’t promise that, Doc,” Gabe grinned.

“Save that charming smile for Ms. Porter. It’s not working on me,” the doctor said dryly, but amusement twinkled in her eyes. “Here’s a prescription for antibiotics and pain meds.”

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