Storm Advisory: Iron Tornadoes MC Romance, #9

By Olivia Rigal

Whizz has been hired by Alienor's family to find her and keep her safe. 
Whatever he wants to happen between them just isn't meant to be … 
Despite the irresistible brain hiding behind her beautiful brown eyes, despite her generous heart beneath the bountiful curves … 
Until he finds out someone is lying to him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lady O Publishing
• Release date: Feb 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386939672

Book preview

1

When Sally arrives, I’m done setting up the conference room for the morning meeting. She drops a small tray of donuts on the side table and dives for the coffee pot.

G’Morning sunshine, I tell her.

She grunts while filling her mug and takes a chair at the far end of the room next to a pile of note pads.

If I know my Sally well, right now she’s cursing our agency policy requiring to have two members of the staff present to all appointments. No doubt she already dislikes this new client who insisted on an 8 AM meeting on a day when no one else but me and her were available.

At eight on the dot, the door bell chimes. Our guest has arrived. Guests actually. The old lady I was expecting is accompanied by a middle age man who bears a family resemblance. Old enough to be her son but according to my research she only had one and he passed away in Miami a few weeks ago. So not her son but definitely family. He’s as tall and large as she is. Yet while she stands surprisingly straight for a woman in her late eighties, the man slouches.

Mr. Whizz, I suppose, she declares examining me slowly.

Her eyes rise up from the pointy tips of my boots to my mess of unruly hair and she frowns.

Once upon a time that look probably terrified the poor kids who were sent to her office but it doesn’t work on me. Hell, I was sent to the principal’s office so many times some would have thought the good Father Francis and I had a thing going on. Nice try. She keeps a poker face and there’s no way to know if she’s annoyed that her intimidation tactic doesn’t work on me. Probably not. Who would want to hire a private investigator that can be scared away by the stern look of a school principal.

Mrs. Russel, we’re ready for you, I answer. If you’ll follow me to the conference room.

She marches in through the open door as if she owned the place. The man behind her hesitates until she calls out for him.

Come on Ron, we don’t have all day.

I follow them and leave the door ajar.

This is my nephew Ron, she says taking the seat usually occupied by Ice at the head of the table.

Nice to meet you Ron, I say.

He shrugs and takes a seat.

And this is Sally Luck, our assistant, she’ll be working with me on your case.

Mrs. Russel squints in her direction but doesn’t say a thing.

Would you care for a cup of coffee? I ask.

No thank you. I’d rather get straight to the business at hand.

Perfect, I say leaning pouring myself a fresh mug. What can we do for you Mrs. Russel?

You can help me find my grand niece, she declares.

Waiting for her to tell us more, I sit at the main table and flip through my notes. I looked into our new client after speaking to her last week. Nothing about her raises a red flag. Well, aside from her son dying in jail not looking grief stricken by it, but then we all grieve our own way.

The only thing that intrigues me is her place of residence. She lives in the Pink Flamingo community. Now Mrs Russel taught high school chemistry before she became a school principal and the Pink Flamingo residence is not cheap. It’s a very expensive residence for a widow with a civil servant pension. Nothing in her clothing or jewelry speaks of money. The only explanation that comes to mind is that she may have purchased it with a settlement received after her late husband accidental death.

John F. Russel Senior fell from a scaffolding in a freak construction site accident a few weeks before his 50 th birthday. Sad but possibly a better way to die that their son, John F. Russel Junior. Yeah, his death was even messier: a slit throat in his cell after being arrested on a drug trafficking charge.

I look up from my file and Mrs Russel is glaring at me.

She obviously wants my undivided attention.

I’m listening, I say.

She nods and glances in direction of Sally who is looking at her like a good little student. Better yet, Sally’s also holding a pen, ready to take notes.

Her name is Alienor Connor. She stops for a few seconds as if daring me to comment on the name. She’s the grand daughter of my eldest sister, God bless her soul.

She joins her hands together as if praying for her departed sibling. A 2 second prayer.

The name makes me smile. I knew a young woman once by that name. A very beautiful young woman…

Alienor was not an easy child, she says looking at me again. And because I was the one with the most experience in education, her parents agreed to let me take care of her.

So that explains why she’s here and not the parents. But because there are specific rules where missing children are concerned, I now have a few questions to ask. The first one is easy.

How old is she?

Ali turned twenty four in September, Ron answers.

Interesting … so she’s no longer a child.

Does she have … special needs? Sally asks

Ron snorts. My niece is not retarded if that’s what your asking.

Mrs. Russel seats up a little straighter and whispers, Quite the opposite.

Right! She’s got a master in biology and a Phd in pharma… pharma… he turns to his great aunt for help.

Pharmacology and toxicology, Mrs Russel says.

At twenty four. Sally’s clearly impressed.

So we’re talking about a grown up woman who’s gone missing? I observe.

Mrs. Russel’s head moves in an ambiguous way.

Do you think she’s been abducted or that someone is holding her against her will?

This time Ron shakes his head. It’s clearly a no.

So she left voluntarily but didn’t tell you where she was going.

The old lady nods.

And you want us to find her because…

Our two guests look at each other and Ron shrugs. He’s letting his aunt take the lead on that.

It’s complicated, Mrs Russel declares.

Missing person cases always are.

Especially when the person doesn’t want to be found.

We have all the time in the world, I answer with a smile.

People who get paid by the hour usually do, she observes.

That’s the sort of sarcastic answer that rubs Sally the wrong way so I’m not surprised to hear her growl back.

You don’t get it, do you? We’re not on the clock yet.

Mrs Russel frowns in surprise.

Sally’s right, the old lady doesn’t understand.

Right now we’re on our own dime. We haven’t decided if we’re going to take your case or not, I explain. Unless you tell me why your Alienor has ran away and is hiding from you and the rest of your family, we won’t take you in as our clients.

For all we know, she could have a very good reason for hiding and we’re not in the business of assisting abusive families … Sally adds.

Mrs. Russel thinks about for a moment.

So I guess you won’t be happy with me telling you we had a falling out?

I’m afraid if you want our help, you’re going to have to do better than that.

The old woman sits back in the chair and sighs heavily.

Come on, Ron encourages her gently tapping on one of her wrinkled hands.

Fine, fine, she says swatting his hand away as if it were an annoying insect. We need you to find Alienor ‘cause she’s in serious danger.

2

So here’s the thing, Mrs. Russel begins. As part of her Phd research, Alienor worked on a new drug. One that modifies behaviors.

I nod to encourage her to elaborate as I can see her hesitate.

After she left the university, she learned that what she had done to … tinker with the formula, had made it more potent and then …

Mrs. Russel stalls, searching for her words.

Oh for fuck’s sake, Ron says. She destroyed all existing copies of her new formula and ran.

Why did she do that? Sally asks before I have a chance to do so.

She didn’t like the way it affected people, Ron answers.

Wait, I interject. How would she know how it affected people if the drug was still in the experimental stage?

I’m no expert in the field but I’m pretty sure there’s an entire process to be complied with before labs are allowed