Till Death: Deep Six Security Series Book 1

TILL DEATH

Logan’s Lonestar Heroes, Book One

Dave’s Story

Becky McGraw

Be sure to check out all of the books in the

Texas Trouble Series by Becky McGraw:

Book #1 - My Kind of Trouble (Cassie & Luke)

Book #2 - The Trouble With Love (Sabrina & Cole)

Book #3 - Double the Trouble (Karlie & Gabe)

Book #4 - Looking for Trouble (Jess & Wade)

Book #5 - Trouble in Dixie (Katie & Tommy)

Book #6 - Asking for Trouble (Jazzie & Beau)

Book #7 - Chasing Trouble (Jenny & Chase)

Book #8 - Here Comes Trouble (Terri & Joel)

Book #9 - Worth the Trouble (Roxanne & Ethan)

Book #10 - Royal Trouble (Leigh Ann & Wes)

Book #11 - Trouble With the Law (Veronica & Trace)

Book #12 – Borrowing Trouble (Carrie & Dylan)

Coming in 2015 – Book #13 – Trouble Down Under (Zane’s Story)

The Cowboy Way

Hope for Christmas (Cord’s Story – novella included in Santa Wore Spurs)

Just Shoot Me (#1, Cowboy Way, Dean’s story)

Cowgirl Crazy (#2, Cowboy Way, Ryan’s story)

COMING SOON – Too Hot to Trot (#3, Cowboy Way, Zack’s Story)

New Series – Logan’s Lonestar Heroes

Till Death, (#1, Logan’s Lonestar Heroes, Dave’s Story)

Acknowledgements

There are so many people to thank, I’d have to write a book just for the acknowledgements to cover everyone.  I am one of the most blessed women on earth to have such wonderful friends, family and readers.  Thank you all.  I couldn’t do it without you.

A couple of special mentions include my editor, friend and fellow Troublemaker, Carolyn Depew, and Renita McKinney, my sister by another mister.  Thank you both so much for being right there in the trenches with me as I develop my books to give me encouragement, offer your valuable input, or give me a swift kick in the pants when I need it.  I love you both.  To Bertie Welck, my friend and fellow Troublemaker—thank you for loaning me your name for one of my villains in this book.  That’s where the similarity ends, my friend.

Finally, I’d like to thank both Heather Almendarez and Don Allen for the amazing cover image on Till Death.  You two are magic together.  Thank you for sprinkling some of that fairy dust on my new book.  Don, you truly brought Dave Logan to life.  Thanks for all of your support and promotional help.

To find Don and Heather:

www.facebook.com/DonAllenFitness

www.facebook.com/HeatherLynnPortraits

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real.  Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

TILL DEATH, Copyright © November, 2014
by Becky McGraw. 

ISBN:
9781311890283

All rights reserved under International and Pan American Copyright Conventions.  By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen.  No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the author.

CHAPTER ONE

“Did you hear?” Slade asked, settling into a chair across from Dave Logan’s desk.  “The Barracuda walked out of the Dallas Regional Office over a week ago.”

Dave only half-listened to his best friend and second-in-command, because he just didn’t have time for a shoot-the-shit session with Slade right now.  The email from an attorney wanting to hire Deep Six Security for a new case involving a missing baby was much more interesting.  A wealthy oilman and his trophy wife paid nearly half a million dollars to a fertility clinic for a designer baby they didn’t receive. 

Shortly after the baby was born, the surrogate ran away with the baby, and the clinic refused to give the couple any information on their possible whereabouts.  All they were told was the administration was trying to locate the woman.  The oilman believed he and his wife may have been scammed and wanted to hire Deep Six to investigate them, and find the surrogate and baby. 

It could be a huge, well-paying case.

But Slade’s casually spoken words buzzed around in the back of Dave’s brain for a second, then settled.  His hand froze on the mouse, and his eyes flew to Slade’s.  “Did you just say that Susan Whitmore quit the FBI?”

Slade reached down to scratch between Lola, his German Shepherd’s, ears and got a lick across his palm. “Yep,” he replied with a grin.  “Told them to fuck off and turned in her badge and gun, before walking out the front door.”

“What happened?” Dave asked, his mind whirling with possibilities. 

It was a wonder she hadn’t been fired long before now, she was so abrasive.  She didn’t just step on toes, Susan Whitmore ground them into the floor under her ugly low-heeled agency-issued shoes.  How she’d gotten into that position as Special Agent In Charge of the FBI Dallas Regional Office at only thirty-years-old he didn’t know. 

Well, maybe he did.  Despite her youth, her foot-in-mouth disease, and shoot-from-the-hip style, Susan Whitmore was hands down the smartest woman he’d ever met.   MENSA smart.  She’d told him so when they first met, and he thought it was just arrogance talking.  Working with her indirectly for the last six years, though, she had proven her words time and again.  Dave had a lot of respect for her intelligence now, but none for her methods. 

The woman had zero people skills.  She was one of those people who didn’t care who she stepped on as long as she came out on top at the end of the game.  She’d come very close to stepping on him a few times, but he’d set her straight.  Yeah, he respected Susan, but he didn’t like her.  Not one bit.  And her men at the bureau felt the same way about her. Thus, the nickname they’d pinned on her. The Barracuda.  It fit.  Every damned word out of her mouth was sharp enough to slice a grown men into tiny, bite-sized pieces.  Susan Whitmore was a man-eater.  Her men, hell all men, mostly steered clear of her. 

But this business wasn’t about liking people, it was about getting the job done, and grudgingly, Dave had to admit she did that.  In spades.  That led him to wonder again what would have caused her to resign.  He might not like her, but he was definitely going to miss having Susan Whitmore as his contact at the bureau.  She had always been open to working with outside investigators.  Her replacement might not feel the same way.  Some of the agents at the bureau resented having to deal with outside contractors.  It would take time to establish a relationship with someone new.  That could cause delays in the cases he took on from here on out.

Slade shrugged and pushed on the arms of the chair to stand.  “I don’t know what went down.  Carmen called me as soon as it happened, but she couldn’t talk.  The walls over there have ears, so I’m meeting her for a beer at the Underground tonight to get the scoop.”  He bent to take Lola’s leash, which Dave insisted he keep on her inside the office. Lola liked to sneak into the kitchen for a snack, which often included someone’s lunch, if they left it out on the counter. 

Dave spun his chair back toward the computer screen.  He tapped his mouse to wake up the monitor.  “Let me know what you find out.”

“You should hire her,” Slade said at the doorway.

Dave’s eyes shot back to him, with his eyebrows near his hairline.  “Who? Susan?” he asked incredulously.  “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Slade shrugged.  “She has a black belt in martial arts of some kind, and is pretty damned smart,” he replied with a grin.  “Could be interesting.”

Dave laughed.  “She’s also a smart
ass
who would run off every man here, and probably half of my clients.  Hell, I’d probably be running for the door too.”  He shook his head and looked back at his computer.  “I like my team just the way it is.  I don’t need woman drama, Slade.”  As much as he could, Dave had steered clear of that for two years now.

“But you do need more men, or
women
, my friend.  As much as you hate to admit it, we’re spread too thin right now.  It’s only going to get worse, because of your addiction to taking on new cases.  You either need to learn to say no, or hire more people.” 

Slade was right, but Dave was not about to tell him that.  It would just spur him on.  But regardless of what Slade thought, Dave wasn’t just hiring anyone, the people he hired had to be right.  “I’ll just slow down on taking new cases,” Dave grumbled, as he opened the next email in his inbox, trying to give him the message the conversation was over.

“So says the man sitting there staring at yet another case he’s thinking of taking on, right?”

It looked like Slade wasn’t taking a hint today, and he was about at the end of his patience with him. With a slow head turn, he pinned Slade with his eyes.  “I’m just reading my damned emails, and I could do that better if you’d leave me the hell alone,” he growled.

“How many are about new cases?  How many of those will you turn down?” Slade pressed, even though he knew the answer.  None.  It was an addiction fueled by the white-knight complex Dave had fought all his life.  They both knew it.

Dave’s eyebrows slammed down over his eyes.  “I’m not hiring Susan Whitmore.  No way, no how.  Not in this lifetime.”

“And you’re not hiring your sister when she comes back from the sandbox next year either, right?”

“No, I’m not hiring Cee Cee either.”

One of Slade’s eyebrows lifted along with the corner of his mouth.  “You have something against women working with us?”

“Hell no,” Dave replied with an insulted snort.  There were a lot of capable women he’d hire.  Just not those two.

“Sure looks that way,” Slade needled.  “How many women have you hired?”

“Are you calling me a sexist?” Dave asked indignantly.  Slade was on mighty thin ice with him this morning, and he was about to fall through.

“If the sex fits,” Slade replied, folding his arms over his chest.  “There are a lot of women in the service these days, and I’d gladly serve alongside a lot of them.” Slade finally stood and Dave’s shoulders relaxed.  “Or under them,” he added with a bodacious wink that made Dave want to punch him.

Disgusted, Dave dragged his eyes back to his computer screen.  “And
that
is one more reason I don’t hire women here.  One comment like that around a woman would get me a lawsuit I don’t need.  You guys are not used to being around polite company.”

“And you are?” Slade volleyed with a hoot, as he turned toward the door.  “I’ll let you know what I get from Carmen tonight.”

“I’m not sure I
want
to know what you get from Carmen tonight.  Just make sure she doesn’t get anything from you.”  Carmen was Slade’s friend with benefits over at the agency.  The curvy brunette seemed to know everything that went on over at that big brick fortress, and had no qualms about spilling her guts to Slade given the right incentive. 

And his friend gave her that often.

The problem with people like Carmen was they usually carried info both ways.  He knew Slade wouldn’t intentionally give up confidential Deep Six information, but pillow talk was a dangerous thing.  Slade immediately spun, his eyes looking fierce, his fists curled. 

Dave held up his hands.  “I’m sorry, buddy, that was uncalled for.”  It really was, because Dave trusted Slade implicitly.  They’d been on many round trips to hell and back together, both in the service and in the years Deep Six had been in existence.  “See if she’s heard anything about a designer baby factory working in the area too.” 

“Designer baby factory?” Slade repeated.

“Yeah, I got an email from an attorney,” Dave replied trying not to inflect anything in his voice that would indicate it was for a new case he wanted to take on.

“You got an email and are thinking about taking on another case you mean?” Slade corrected with a sigh.  The frustration in his friend’s voice worked on Dave’s guilt.

Deep Six Security was spread too thin, way past thin.  But these paying cases were important.  The money would definitely be welcome to pay off the new equipment he’d bought earlier in the year, and to cover the high-tech gadgets Dex insisted they needed to keep the team cutting edge.  If he turned down paying cases there were no guarantees there would be more there tomorrow to cover those hefty notes.  But Slade didn’t understand because he only had himself to worry about.  Dave had his whole team, his company to consider.  That meant he didn’t owe anyone an explanation, not even Slade, for the decisions he made.  It was his name on those notes at the bank, and him who spent sleepless nights worrying about making the staggering payroll at the end of every week to keep these guys fed. 

“Just ask her,” Dave said, his jaw tight.

Slade sighed, and it sounded like Lola did too.  Dave ignored him, but felt his hot glare on the side of his face from the doorway.  Finally, with a shake of his head, he left and Dave relaxed, but he admitted Slade was right.  They needed more men, if they were taking on new cases.

It wasn’t as if he wasn’t trying to find fresh blood.  Dave had interviewed a lot of candidates recently.  He just hadn’t found the men to fit the team yet.  Perhaps he was just being too picky, but no matter how hard up he was, Dave refused to hire just anyone and screw up the chemistry of the team.  As it was, the Deep Six team operated like a well-oiled machine.  From his service in the marines, Dave knew the importance of a cohesive team.  One bad apple could reduce the whole cart to splinters.  He’d worked too damned hard to let that happen.

No matter what Slade thought, Susan Whitmore would be that apple.

***

For a very smart woman, Susan Whitmore felt pretty damned dumb at the moment. Quitting her job at the FBI had to be on the top of the list of dumbest things she’d ever done in her life, second only to enrolling her sister in a college she couldn’t afford without that job.  She tossed the staggering tuition bill, which was due to Wellington College for Gifted Women very soon, beside the ashtray.  Holding the phone away from her mouth she took one last, long draw on the cigarette that was almost burning her fingers now and blew out the smoke, fighting a violent coughing fit as it tickled her throat.  Her eyes watered as she stubbed the butt out in the half-full ashtray on her patio table. 

Taking a deep breath of the fresh morning air, she cleared her throat.  “Jenna, don’t worry about it.  I’ll talk to the bursar tomorrow.” 
After I rob the bank, because I don’t have a job and have no idea what to tell the pinched-faced woman
.  She could see the headlines now. 
Former FBI head takes to life of crime after telling her boss to fuck himself
.  Dumb.

“Oh, the bursar gave me several great ideas to help. She was actually very nice and helpful this morning,” Jenna informed with a laugh.  “I couldn’t believe it.  She even called the Dean and they worked things out.”

That was odd for sure, but certainly welcome news.  “How’s that?”

“Well, I’m participating in a special project connected to the science department, sort of like a paid internship, I guess.  I’m going to talk to Ms. Williams more about it this afternoon, and sign the paperwork.  As of tomorrow, my tuition will be paid.”

To Susan, it sounded like a lot of commitment.  The financial help was nice, but she wasn’t so sure she wanted her sister working.  Jenna needed to focus on finishing college.  At twenty-three, she was very close to getting her master’s and her doctorate would be a breeze after that.  If Susan could just survive a few more years financially, her sister would be set for the rest of her life.  But that would take Jenna focusing on that end goal.

“Jenna, I don’t think taking your eye off the ball for a special project is a good idea.  You need to work on your thesis.”  Susan knew that from personal experience. 

Her fumble had been trying to fit in with the crowd by going out partying with people who couldn’t give a shit less about her in an attempt to make friends.  It had cost her several semesters, not to mention it hadn’t worked.  When she finally faced the fact those people were just insecure assholes who she didn’t need anyway, that they’d always consider her a three-headed monster because she was smarter than them, Susan had been a lot better off.  She didn’t need to be one of the cool kids, part of the in crowd, and would never be anyway.

And Susan didn’t want her sister’s misstep to be spreading herself too thin by trying to earn an income.  What she needed to do was focus and get this over with.  “I don’t want you doing it, Jenna.”