and settled comfortably into the cushioned chair. He was officially off today, but no way would he miss one of Daisy’s meals if he was in town. Noting that Geoff and Lucie were the only other two agents there, he assumed everyone else was on assignment.
“Just us today?” Geoff asked, apparently thinking along the same lines as Deke.
“Ty’s supposed to come in later,” Daisy replied.
“I leave first thing tomorrow for another boring, nobody-else-wants-it assignment,” Lucie said.
Geoff rolled his eyes. Deke grunted. Daisy gave Lucie a commiserating half smile. They all knew that Sawyer deliberately chose the worst jobs for Lucie. Why he did, no one other than Sawyer and Lucie knew. And why he didn’t just fire her, and why she kept taking everything that Sawyer dished out, was something else only the two of them knew. Everyone who worked at Dundee’s was aware of the ongoing feud between the CEO and the Amazonian redheaded agent, but no one knew when or why it had started. Years ago, the two had been FBI agents, so the most logical explanation was that something had happened between them back then.
Lucie and Geoff joined Deke. Instead of sitting down with them, Daisy prepared a tray of food and headed toward the door.
“Where are you going with that?” Lucie asked.
“Mr. McNamara has requested lunch in his office,” she replied.
“Too good to eat with the peasants.” Lucie shoved back her chair, stood and held out her hands. “Here, let me take it to him.”
Grinning, Daisy shook her head. “I believe Mr. McNamara wants to eat his lunch, not wear it. Don’t think I’m not aware of what would happen if you served him.”
With that said, Daisy balanced the tray with one hand and opened the door with the other. Just as she crossed the threshold, she stopped abruptly, coming face-to-face with the big boss himself.
“I was on my way to your office with lunch,” Daisy said.
“It’ll have to wait,” Sawyer replied. Not unpleasant, but not friendly. And certainly all business. He eased past her and entered the break room. His gaze traveled to the table where his three available agents had begun devouring Daisy’s delicious chili. “Good, you’re all here.”
Deke knew what that meant. Either a delayed lunch or no lunch at all. Sawyer was about to give one or more of them a new assignment.
“I’m not going anywhere until I’ve eaten lunch,” Lucie said, not even glancing at their boss.
Sawyer bristled. Deke noticed only because he possessed an uncanny ability to read people. That intuitive instinct had given him an advantage as a member of the Delta Force and later as a mercenary. Sawyer’s jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he took a deep breath. The guy was reining in his impulse to tell Lucie Evans to go straight to hell.
“Daisy?” Sawyer motioned to the office manager. “Bring that tray in here. We’ll eat lunch while we discuss the new assignment.”
After Daisy placed the tray on the table where the others had congregated, she hurried out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Sawyer glanced from one agent to another, then eyed the meal in front of him. “I just got off the phone with Cara Bedell of Bedell, Inc.,” he told them.
“Someone hasn’t killed that worthless brother-in-law of hers, have they?” Deke asked. He’d met Grayson Perkins when he’d been called in as a backup agent for Domingo Shea the last time Bedell, Inc. had used Dundee’s services.
“As far as I know, Mr. Perkins is alive and well,” Sawyer said. “But it seems there was a bombing at the headquarters of Helping Hands, one of Cara Bedell’s pet charities. The building is in downtown Chattanooga. The bomb exploded on the first floor and seriously injured three employees, one of whom has since died.”
“And Ms. Bedell wants Dundee’s involved because…?” Geoff asked.
“Because the president of Helping Hands received a threatening phone call shortly after the explosion.”
“Was the threat directed at him?” Geoff asked.
“Her,” Sawyer corrected. “Yes, the threat was directed at the president as well as at Ms. Bedell and the organization itself.”
“Why would anyone threaten a charity organization?” Lucie shook her head, bouncing her copper-red curls. “You know, we’re living in a really screwed-up world.”
“How astute of you, Ms. Evans,” Sawyer said sarcastically. “Bronson, I want you and Monday to drive over to Chattanooga as soon as you finish lunch and can go home to pack your bags. I’ll leave it up to the two of you to choose who guards Ms. Bedell and who guards the Helping Hands president.”
“Who’s going to head up the investigation?” Deke asked.
“The Chattanooga PD,” Sawyer replied. “Lieutenant Bain Desmond is in charge. As for who will be Dundee’s investigator—”
“You could send me,” Lucie suggested.
“I could, but won’t. You already have an assignment that starts tomorrow. I’m calling in Ty Garrett to handle the investigation for Dundee’s.” Sawyer looked from Deke to Geoff. “You two have worked with Ty before. You know he’s good at what he does.”
Geoff reached in his pants pocket, pulled out a quarter and grinned at Deke. “Flip you for the heiress. You call it.” He tossed the coin.
“Tails,” Deke said.
Geoff caught the quarter in his palm. Grinning broadly, he said, “Heads. Sorry, old chap, but I get Ms. Bedell.”
Deke shrugged. It didn’t matter to him. One client was the same as the other. One woman no different than any other.
“I’ll have Daisy put together some preliminary info and e-mail it to both of you. You should have the report by the time you arrive in Chattanooga,” Sawyer said.
BAIN DESMOND met the two Dundee agents at three-thirty that afternoon, when they arrived at Helping Hands’ headquarters. The CSI team was working the scene when Geoff and Deke arrived.
“What can you tell us?” Geoff asked as they rode up in the elevator with the police detective.
“The bomb was placed in a storage room. If the maintenance man hadn’t been in there getting some supplies, he’d be alive. The bomb probably wasn’t intended to kill anyone. The area of destruction was limited, so we surmise it was detonated as a warning.”
“A warning to Helping Hands, its president and Ms. Bedell. Is that right?” Deke asked.
“From what the caller said, yeah, that’s right.”
When the elevator doors opened on the fourth floor, Lieutenant Desmond emerged first. “The ladies are pretty shook up. I told Cara…Ms. Bedell, that hiring around-the-clock bodyguards probably wasn’t necessary, but she insisted. And what Ms. Bedell wants, she gets. Money talks,” Desmond grumbled.
“Her money shouts over at Dundee’s,” Geoff
