JAKE - Don't look back

By Barbara Eckhoff

Savannah Lanier is faced with a mystery. Strange accidents occur on the company premises again and again. Can they really blame the activists, who have been sending threatening letters to the business management for years?

 But the police don't see any need for action yet, as there is no evidence of foul play

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barbara Eckhoff
• Release date: Aug 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9781087969930

Book preview

Barbara Eckhoff

JAKE – Don’t look back

A Guardian Angel Book

Novel

Translated from the Original Version

JAKE – Schau nicht zurück

Copyright© 2022 by Barbara Eckhoff

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,

and incidents either are the product of the author’s

imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments,

events, or locals is entirely coincidental.

Impressum

Text:             © 2022 Copyright by Barbara Eckhoff

Cover:            © 2022 Copyright by Barbara Eckhoff

www.barbaraeckhoff.com

[e-mail]

Books by Barbara Eckhoff

Um uns herum die Dunkelheit ( German Edition )

Der Wind in meinen Federn ( German Edition )

Wenn Liebe Zweifel sät ( German Edition )

JAKE – Schau nicht zurück ( German Edition )

Wind of Fate ( English Edition )

When Love grows doubt ( English Edition )

JAKE – Don’t look back ( English Edition )

www.barbaraeckhoff.com

A big hug goes to my team behind the scenes.

Many thanks to Julia – who is always my very

first test reader. You are my trend indicator.

Thumbs up -– signals to me whether the story fits.

A big thank you also goes to Joanne and Renate,

who once again meticulously took care of every

single page and plowed through my work until the last word.

I am sure this is a difficult task. I only have to write

down my story – but you have to find the mistakes.

Thanks again to all of  you – without you this would not be possible.

Prologue

Under the cover of darkness, the figure walked across the forecourt, reaching without incident, the place where the cameras would not see him. He paused briefly to consider his next steps, but was confident that he had thought of everything.

He had been preparing for tonight for weeks, meticulously noting everything that went on in the compound: when the employees left for the day, whether there was a night shift, and how many guards were at their posts at night.

The compound was well secured, but he knew from experience that every system had its weak point; you just had to find it and he had done that. It had been almost child's play to get past the security fence. With a satisfied smile on his lips, he glanced at his watch. The slightly illuminated dial told him that at any moment the security guard would begin his second round.

So he did better to wait until he passed him. After that, he would have ten minutes before the security guard returned. In his mind, he counted backwards from twenty to zero and cautiously peeked out from his cover. This was what he called punctuality, and he pulled one corner of his mouth up slightly. Not far from him, he saw the glow of a flashlight coming toward him.

He quickly ducked down. The cone of light wavered back and forth before the glow of the lamp paused briefly above him. But the guard did not seem to have seen him, because the cone of light continued and disappeared a little later around the corner of the factory building.

Now there was no time to lose. He sprang out from his shelter and hastened to his destination. Always on guard not to make a sound and to avoid the cameras, he quickly crawled under the truck and carefully slid under the front wheels.

With nimble fingers, he pulled his small tool bag out of the pocket on his leg and set to work. The night vision device, on his head, let him see every screw exactly. Again he looked at his watch, paused and counted. Then, he slowly turned his head to the side already seeing the glow of the watchman's flashlight. Now came the difficult part of his plan.

The man would come to check the trucks and that meant that he could be easily found. If the guard felt for a moment that something was wrong, he would be forced to blow out his light. He hoped this would not happen, as it could ruin his plans. Now, as the young, wiry man approached and walked from one truck to the other, his hand slid to his right leg. He felt the cold grip of his weapon.

The guard had almost reached him. With his breath held and his weapon ready to be gripped, he lay still and motionless under the truck. The cone of light danced across the ground, sometimes to his left, then to his right, until it moved away. Relieved, he loosened his fingers and let the gun rest in its holster. Everything had gone well and he could watch the man disappear around the next corner, then he set about finishing his work.

An hour later, he entered the shabby, musty-smelling motel room he had rented for his purposes. He hated this kind of accommodation, because it always smelled the same. Stale smoke from the previous tenant and the smell of mold from the windowless bathroom didn't really invite him to stay, but as much as he loathed staying in them, he had stayed in worse, and for his purposes it was perfect.

No one was interested in him in this run-down dump. One could come and go anonymously. No one really took notice of you and that was all he wanted. By the time he left tomorrow, no one would remember what the man in room six looked like, let alone when he had arrived.

Satisfied, he slid his gun, which he had taken off in the car, under the musty pillow and lay down in his clothes on the not-quite-clean bed. The room service really left something to be desired, but at the moment he didn't care. Feeling satisfied with himself, he thought about his next steps.

The night's action had ushered in phase two, because it was time he was finally taken seriously, so he closed his eyes and fell asleep. The next morning he was awakened by the sound of slamming doors. Angry voices from the neighboring room reached him. Annoyed, he sat up. Every morning the same, he thought.

The quarrelsome couple who had the room next to him were loudly debating some floozy the husband must have sown interest in the night before. Damn it, he thought to himself, reaching for his pistol. He had a great desire to put an abrupt end to the annoying shouting. All he had to do was walk over and fire two quick bullets. He was sure that no one would really miss them. But then he heard the door slam again and shortly afterwards a car driving away. He put his gun on the only other piece of furniture in the room, the TV table, and switched on the device. The two would never know how close they had been to their deaths today. While the commercials were on, he began to wash up.

When the regional news was broadcast, he interrupted his morning toilette and sat down on the bed. He eagerly followed the coverage of a spectacular car accident that had occurred a few minutes ago. Exact details were not yet available, only to the extent that a truck from the company Poole & Blackborne Drills had, for reasons that are still unclear, crashed at unrestrained speed into oncoming traffic, where it hit several vehicles and then finally overturned. Miraculously, apart from the driver of the truck, who was seriously injured and hospitalized, there were only a few minor injuries.

As the spokeswoman assured, the rescue forces had assumed that there had been fatalities when they arrived, and one must now expect enormous delays in rush-hour traffic due to the full closure of the city highway. When the next announcement came, he turned off the TV. Whistling cheerfully, he went back to finishing his morning toilet.

Chapter 1

Savannah compared the address on her GPS with the name on the street sign. Since she didn't know her way around Washington, it could only be a mistake. She didn't know exactly what she was expecting, but this was definitely not it.

The area she was in wasn't the most run-down, but it wasn't downtown either, where she would have expected to find a global company. Not a magnificent glass building or a luxurious floor in a skyscraper with a view of the White House. She checked her address once again before shaking her head, steering her rental car into the parking lot in front of the nondescript brick building and choosing one of the few available spaces. As she turned off the engine, she registered the black Lincoln SUVs and a few other vehicles.

At least people seemed to be working here, it occurred to her. Undeterred, she sat in the car for a while, watching through her rearview mirror, the house behind her. She let her eyes wander over the other houses on the street, which she seemed to notice only now. One looked like the other. Each of them was two-storied and not very different in shape and color. Only the four-car garage and the missing front yard seemed to set this object apart from the other houses. A large, beige shoebox with a black roof, she thought, and the best company in the field of personal security should be located here?

Well, maybe that would get the job done faster. She didn't want to be here anyway and it really couldn't be Raymond's wish to hire such a nondescript company. God alone probably knew how they got their supposedly good reputations. Still upset that he had sent her here, she reached for her briefcase and got out. As she walked toward the front door, studying the small brass plate that hung next to the bell button, the door suddenly opened and a giant stepped out. Their astonished eyes met and a smile flitted across his lips.

Savannah wasn't exactly short herself, but this man still made her stick her head up in the air. Seemingly amused at her reaction, he held the door open for her and said:

Go right in. They'll help you inside.

Puzzled, she stopped in the doorway and looked after him as he walked to one of the black SUVs and got in.

Step right in my dear! What can I help you with?

The friendly voice behind her made her whirl around. A middle-aged lady, who appeared to be the receptionist, smiled encouragingly at her. Savannah composed herself briefly, glanced once more at the car driving away, then stepped inside.

Sorry about that, I got a little distracted.

Yeah, I know what you mean, our Jeff can really intimidate you with his size. He's the tallest of the guys, though the others aren't exactly short either.

The friendly lady continued to smile.

Does he work here?

Yes, he's one of our employees, Miss...?

Oh, excuse me. I'm Savannah Lanier and I have an appointment with Mr. Forester.

Welcome to the Guardian Angels , Miss Lanier. Please take a seat in the waiting room for a moment. I will announce you right away.

The lady came around her desk and ushered Savannah into a small but very modernly furnished room. When she heard the word waiting room, she automatically thought of the doctors' rooms that always looked the same, with plastic chairs lined up against one wall and cheap rubber trees trying to bring something homey into the colorless room.

This room, on the other hand, was flooded with light. A large glass front let those waiting look into a nicely landscaped garden. Various comfortable armchairs with small tables on which the company's flyers lay and vases with fresh cut flowers reminded much more of the lounge area in the airport.

There was even a snack bar filled with cookies, nuts and drinks. Savannah picked up one of the brochures and flipped through it, lost in thought. If she had thought she would see a photo of the business owner there, she was disappointed. Apart from the introduction of the company and the tasks associated with it, the brochure contained no reference to the employees. When Raymond told her to come here, she had started researching.

But no matter how hard she tried, there was no recent photograph of Jake Forester. The last one of him had been more than eight years old and had been taken during his military service, where he had enjoyed sniper training. She had further learned that he had left the Army at twenty-six and then started his own business with this company. In the last eight years, according to the firm's own brochure, it had become a globally respected and active business, whose estimated value, according to Savannah's own investigations, was now in the upper double-digit millions. Savannah used the waiting time to get a coffee from the snack bar and to continue looking around. Picture frames hung on the walls, with press releases and well-known personalities who had used the services of the Security firm.

She looked at each picture with interest. Just as she was about to turn her attention to the second wall, she heard the lady from the reception say: Miss Lanier, Mr. Forester is expecting you. Please follow me.

She was led through a door into the back of the house and was surprised at what she saw. Nothing that could be seen here was in keeping with the old-fashioned exterior.

She felt as if she had suddenly entered another world. In front of her was a huge open-plan office, equipped with six desks at which four young gentlemen were now busily working. The room was filled with natural light and there were also a number of green plants in the corners. Each of the desks had two integrated modern flat-screen monitors and a state-of-the-art telephone system. On one wall, she could see chargers for walkie-talkies and other miscellaneous electronics. As they crossed the room, the men seemed to take little notice of her. Two of the gentlemen were leaning casually in their chairs, talking on the phone in a language that was foreign to her, while the other two were hanging out together over a screen, seemingly engrossed in what they were seeing there.

Savannah wondered how big this house really was, because in the back of the room she caught sight of another door, at the side of which was a young, good-looking lady, working at another desk. As they approached, she looked up and greeted them in a friendly manner.

May we come in, Marcie?

Yes, he's expecting Miss Lanier.

With that, the receptionist opened the heavy mahogany door and stepped inside.

Jake? Miss Lanier is here for you.

She stepped aside, allowing Savannah to enter, then closed the door from the outside.

Jake didn't know exactly what he had in mind for his 4pm appointment, but he had not expected the woman who now stood before him. She was young, might be about his age, and had apparently escaped from the latest Vogue. The dark blue business suit with the tight miniskirt flattered her tall, slim figure. The black hair, which she wore loose and which reached over her shoulders, gently waved and framed her narrow face.

A finely cut nose and the lightly tanned complexion gave her something exotic, which the green eyes underlined even more. Miss Southern - Lady, it came spontaneously into Jake's head. He rose from his seat and pointed to the chair in front of him.

Miss Lanier, please take a seat. What can I do for you?

Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.

Savannah took a seat in the chair across from him, and Jake also sat back down at his file-filled desk.

I won't beat around the bush at all, and I'll get right to the point if you don’t mind.

Jake gestured for her to continue. Businesslike, she leaned back and placed the briefcase she was carrying on her lap.

Mr. Forester, my boss would like to hire you because there are problems at his company.

What kind of problems?

Well, accidents happen and we would like to know who or what is behind them.

Miss Lanier, we are not a private investigation agency, we specialize in personal security. I think I'm the wrong person for you. However, my secretary would be happy to put together a list of experienced detective agencies in your area.

No! Maybe I didn't express myself correctly. My boss wants to hire you to protect him because he thinks an accident could happen to him, too. That's why I'm here, to ask you to accompany me to him. We'll pay the travel expenses, of course.

What's your boss's name, Miss Lanier?

It's Raymond Blackborne of Poole & Blackborne Drills. We manufacture large drills of all kinds. Maybe you've heard of him?

Jake's gaze darkened. He had hoped never to hear that name again. Annoyed that Blackborne dared to try to engage him, he jumped up from his seat. Surprised at this violent reaction, Savannah looked at him in amazement.

Did I say something wrong?

Miss Lanier, I'm not going to take your case.

But why not? I haven't really explained anything yet. You see, I have here....

She dug out a few sheets of paper in her briefcase. Jake propped his hands on the table and leaned toward her. Exasperated, he replied to her, I don't need any more details. I'm not interested in the case, and now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do.

Without paying any further attention to her, he took his seat again and turned his attention to the pile of files on his desk. Incensed by this kind of rebuff, Savannah jumped up and slammed the briefcase down on the table.

Mr. Forester, I didn't come all this way to you to be treated like this. You're going to look at the documents here now, because I'm sure you'll change your mind then.

If Savannah had known Jake for any length of time, she would know that while he may have appeared calm on the outside, he was seething inside, like a volcano about to erupt. But instead of getting out of the danger zone, she went one better. With angry, sparkling green eyes she flashed at him. What was this guy thinking, anyway?

I've never been treated so rudely in my entire life. Can you even afford to turn down our case and the fee that comes with it?

At these words, Jake looked up and slowly rose from his chair. With difficulty he tried to keep himself under control. His gray eyes seemed to spark and instinctively Savannah backed away a little.

Enough! In case it escaped your notice, here - I'm the boss. I decide whether to accept or reject a case, and your case, I reject.

I want to know the reason for the rejection.

With her high-heeled pumps, she was almost as tall as he was and now looked him in the face with a belligerent look.

I don't owe you an explanation. It's going to be a no and now get out of here.

Jake straightened to his full height in front of her and pointed at the door. Furious, she grabbed her bag, sweeping a stack of the files off the table with it. Cursing, Jake circled the desk to pick up the papers lying on the floor as Savannah marched out the door, dropping it into the lock behind her with a loud bang. With furious steps, she hurried through the open-plan office, past six pairs of astonished eyes, and then hurried across the parking lot to her car. She tossed the briefcase into the passenger seat, started the engine, and shot down the driveway in her car, tires screeching.

Inside the office, however, the six employees looked at each other in disbelief. Marcie, Jake's secretary, who first awoke from her shock, slowly opened her boss's door without knocking. She saw him sitting sullenly at his desk.

Jake? What was that all about? she asked cautiously.

But Jake just grumbled a, Nothing of consequence, under his breath and seemed reluctant to talk about the incident.

****

Still hours later, as Savannah was waiting to board her return flight at the gate of the airport, she recalled her meeting with Jake Forester. What on earth had gotten him so worked up? Actually, she didn't care, she had tried and it hadn't worked out. If he didn't want the job, there would be plenty of other good companies that weren't so picky, she was pretty sure. Besides, she was still there. She just had to convince Raymond that they could manage on their own. No one needed such an arrogant fop. She really didn't know why her boss wanted Jake Forester of all people. He could go fly a kite!

Just as her flight was called, her cell phone rang. The number on the display was well known to her and so, sighing, she took the call.

"Raymond! My flight has just been called, I'll call you when I've landed.... No, it didn't go well.... Although I hadn't even explained the facts to him yet, he declined.... What do you mean, what now? I really don't understand why I can't take this on?

Our department is good and we have this under control.... Of course I tried to change his mind, but he wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise and kicked me out.... Listen, I've got to get on board now, let's talk about this in the office tomorrow, okay?... Yes thank you, I will have that. See you tomorrow."

Relieved to have ended the difficult conversation, she grabbed her ticket and boarded the plane.

****

Savannah had parked her own car, a black BMW hatchback, in the underground garage of the airport. Despite the pleasant flight, she was glad to be home soon. It had been an exhausting and tiring day, and she was looking forward to nothing more than taking a hot bath and then going to bed.

Evening traffic  permitting, she would be in her small apartment in about half an hour. Savannah merged into the moving traffic on the freeway and accelerated. She had only three exits to go when she suddenly heard two bangs, in close succession, and the car immediately swerved. Horrified, she tried to keep the steering wheel steady and get the now lurching car under control. Honking, the other road users swerved to avoid her.

But due to the high speed she had been driving, the car was getting more and more out of control. Brake and steer onto the grass was her first thought, but this attempt failed miserably and so she saw herself getting closer and closer to the next exit. Frantically, she held on to the steering wheel, but the car had long since taken on a life of its own and drifted off to the side.

Two seconds later, it crashed into a cement bollard and then stopped. Savannah hit her head on the window of her door from the side impact and remained sitting in the car, dazed. As if from a distance, she heard screeching tires, vehicles braking abruptly, and excited voices.

Then it went dark around her. She did not awake until she was on the paramedic's stretcher.

A thick gauze bandage was wrapped around her forehead and she was wearing a neck brace. What on earth happened?

Miss, are you ok?

A friendly highway patrol officer peered into the open car. Savannah tried to nod, but a stabbing headache prevented her from doing so. The paramedic, who was now getting into the car, was talking to the policeman.

She probably has a severe concussion, we'll take her to the hospital to be checked out.

Miss, we'll take care of your car, don't worry, the policeman called after her. Then the ambulance started moving.

Two hours later, Savannah was lying in bed in her hospital room. The examination had revealed that she did indeed have a concussion and she would have to spend the weekend in the hospital for monitoring. The police had taken her story, and told her that two blown tires had been the cause.

When she asked if that was unusual, the officer explained that it was quite rare, but could still happen. She had simply been unlucky and very lucky that her car had been built so solidly. Just as she was about to go to sleep, Raymond excitedly stepped into the room.

Savannah are you all right? The police just informed me of the accident. Based on the company registration, they contacted me. How could something like this happen?

They said two of my tires blew out at the same time. I just couldn't get the car under control then.

You may think it was an accident, but two tires at the same time, please, I find that more than suspicious. Especially if we take into account everything that has happened recently. Did you notice anything unusual before?

No, it was normal evening traffic. A few cars tailgating,  others were driving at the same speed as I was. Really nothing out of the ordinary. I heard the bang and then the car lurched.

Still, I think it's odd, and it shows me once again that we need Forester badly.

Raymond, he doesn't want to take the case and he doesn't give me the impression that we can change his mind.

Let me worry about that from now on, get some rest and get better.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, turned out the light, and left Savannah to her needed night's rest.

Chapter 2

The rich sound of an engine, with plenty of horsepower under the hood, announced the car well in advance, even before it pulled onto the driveway. Jake briefly stumbled as he steered his sports car onto the company parking lot and spotted the elderly gentleman leaning casually against the wall of his house. Cursing inwardly, he drove right in front of the garage. He had known that a man like Blackborne would not give up so easily.

The moment he had shown his secretary the door yesterday, it had been clear to him that the episode was not yet over. What surprised him, however, was the fact that he was now here himself, and that not even twenty-four hours had passed since then. He was curious to see what would happen now and so he opened the wing door of his car and got out.

That's an interesting vehicle you're driving.

Raymond had already followed the car to the garage and was standing behind the flashy sports car.

What do you want Blackborne? I already told your secretary yesterday that I wasn't going to take the case, and I haven't changed my mind about it.

Without paying any further attention to him, he pressed the remote control to close the wing door again and turned to leave. But Blackborne stood in his way and put a companionable hand on his shoulder. Jake stopped abruptly, raised an eyebrow disapprovingly and scowled briefly at the hand on his shoulder, then glared menacingly at Raymond. The latter understood immediately and removed his hand.

What's wrong with you? Why are you so desperate to have me? There are countless firms out there that would love to take your case.

"None are as good as yours and you know it, that's why I'm here. Listen Forester, I had thought we could come together like two professionals on a business basis. You'll find it wouldn't be to your financial detriment. There was another accident yesterday, and this time it's personal. Miss Lanier was in a car accident last night on her way home from the airport and I think there was foul play involved. She