Willow: Marquette Security, #4

By Clara Kendrick

This is the fourth book in the Marquette Security series, with over 79,000 words of romantic suspense.

 

Willow Witherspoon is one tough lady.

 

As the only woman working at Marquette Security and Dean's baby sister, she is constantly challenged and perpetually protected. The men she works with protect her because they love her—not because she needs it. She's every bit as strong as any one of them.

 

When Willow takes Benjamin Parson's case, she thinks it will be a simple fix—after all, it's just a problem of a lovelorn woman who needs help figuring out what's real and what isn't.

 

But when it suddenly turns into much more than that, Willow won't have much time to figure out who wants to kill Benjamin and why—not with Benjamin's son's life on the line. It's Willow's future happiness on the line as well because Benjamin turns out to be everything she never knew she wanted.

 

All she has to do is make sure that he escapes his past alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clara Kendrick
• Release date: May 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9798224240050

Clara Kendrick

Discover the captivating world of Clara Kendrick's romantic suspense. With her masterful storytelling and skillful blend of intrigue, romance, and passion, Kendrick draws readers in and keeps them hooked until the very end. Get ready to be swept away by her thrilling and steamy tales of love and suspense. Signup and follow at: Books2read.com/ClaraKendrick Facebook.com/AuthorClaraKendrick

Book preview

Chapter One

Willow

Leaning back in her chair, Willow patted her flat, toned stomach and let out a happy sigh. Mmmm. God, that was good. Ian, you outdid yourself. Seriously. The remnants of their dinner sat in a spread of dishes on Ian and Hayley’s kitchen table. A small piece of salmon wellington, a few stalks of seasoned bok choy, and a lone risotto cake were all that survived their ravenous appetites. Even before Hayley had come into the picture and changed Ian’s life for the better, Willow had often swung by her colleague’s apartment after getting off work to take advantage of his ability in the kitchen. Now that Hayley was around, their evenings were even more fun. Willow had come to love Hayley like a sister, and she enjoyed seeing Ian so happy with her.

I’m going to get so fat living with you, Hayley groaned, rubbing her own stomach. It’s so worth it. Honey, will you love me even if I’m fat?

Ian chuckled, leaning over to kiss his girlfriend. I will. But you spend too much time on the move to get fat, my dear. You never stop working on something.

You could come work out with me, Willow offered, smirking at Hayley. She admired the woman greatly, but Hayley was not an athlete. She was a brilliant journalist, but she didn’t like working in the weights room like Willow did.

Yeah, I might not come out of that alive, Hayley said, chuckling as she stood up to begin clearing dishes. Everyone is going to be here soon, so I’m going to get these cleaned up. Ian, you want to get the living room ready? The games are in the hall closet.

Ian stood up, stretching his arms over his head and twisting his torso, limbering up his own toned body. Yep, I’ll get it all taken care of. Wills, just keep sitting there like a bump on a log.

Willow swatted his leg as he passed her, rolling her eyes. Like I haven’t done enough for you this week. Who jumped in on your case and basically solved the whole thing?

That was a divorce case, Ian called from the living room. Easy-peasy.

For some of us, Willow called back, getting up and starting to help Hayley clear the dishes. Honestly, I don’t know how you put up with him, she told her friend, who just laughed.

Willow and Ian had been working together for years at Marquette Security, along with Willow’s brother, Dean, and their mutual friend, Ethan. They all worked for Connor Marquette, the owner of the agency and father-figure or big-brother-figure to them all. It was the perfect working situation for Willow, and her colleagues were like a second family to her. In some ways, they were closer to her than her actual family members. And tonight, after a long week at work, they were all gathering at Ian’s apartment for game night. She was looking forward to cutting loose and just having fun with her favorite people in the world. It had been a stressful year, with a string of particularly grueling cases, and they all needed some rest and relaxation.

That’s the door, Hayley said, running hot water over the dinner dishes to let them soak. You mind grabbing it, Willow? I’ll finish up in here really quick and get out all the snacks Ian made.

You got it, Willow agreed, heading for the apartment door and opening it to reveal Ethan, his new fiancé, Megan, and Ethan’s daughter, Olivia. Hello, motley crew, Willow said, stepping back to let them in. She hugged Megan, another dear friend, and then crouched down in front of three-year-old Olivia. Hello, you beautiful, brilliant little thing. How about a high five?

Olivia obliged, grinning at Willow. Her blonde curls bounced playfully, and her eyes shone with the look of a well-loved, happy child. Hi, Aunt Wills. I have a secret.

You do?

Ethan laughed, putting his hand on his daughter’s head. Livvie, honey, the point of a secret is not to tell.

I didn’t say what the secret was, Olivia pointed out. I just said I had one.

Willow grinned up at her coworker. She has a point, you know. She’s holding up her end of the bargain.

She’ll blurt it out before the night’s over, he said, chuckling as he leaned in to hug Willow, too.

It did Willow’s heart good to see Ethan so happy after a few bad years. When he had found Megan, and she had brought Olivia back into his life, he had transformed from the quiet, withdrawn workaholic she had first met into the warm, happy, enthusiastic man she knew now. Happy looked good on him.

Ethan and Megan walked into the living room to greet Ian, and Dean, Quinn, and Quinn’s son, Joshua appeared in the hallway before Willow could shut the door. There were greetings all around, as her brother and his new family—even if it wasn’t official yet—walked in.

Hey, you, Willow said, hugging Quinn. Do I dare say that I see a bit of a bump there? She patted Quinn’s stomach, grinning at the woman who would one day be her sister-in-law. I think I do.

Just starting to show, Quinn agreed, turning to the side to show off the slight rounding of her thin frame. We’re sixteen weeks on Tuesday. I can’t believe it.

Willow shook her head, amazed that this was her brother’s child she was talking about. Me either. Seriously. That’s far enough along to know the gender, right?

It is, Joshua piped up, from beside his mother. The dark-haired preteen, in many ways the spitting image of his gorgeous mother, looked up at Willow with a wealth of intelligence in his eyes. The eleven-year-old was about to graduate high school, after all. But we’re still contemplating whether or not we want to determine the gender early. There are definite benefits to knowing, like the ability to plan the nursery, but on the other hand, we can’t dismiss the element of surprise. Besides, the nature of gender is up for debate anyway.

Laughing, Willow ruffled the kid’s hair. Right on all accounts, she agreed, ushering them inside. Go on in and get settled, she urged. Olivia is here already, Joshua. The preteen was enchanted by the precocious young girl, and it was sweet to watch them play together. She was equally as fascinated by him.

Connor was the last to arrive, and when Willow opened the door for him, she immediately noted that he looked exhausted. His eyes were dim, and he looked like he hadn’t shaved in several days. Willow saw him often at work, but usually just in passing, and this was the first time in a little while that she had really looked at him instead of just offering a wave as she hurried past.

You look like hell.

His mouth twitched upward. Thanks, Wills. Appreciate it.

Well, you do, she said. You’re working too hard.

That’s the way of the job sometimes, and this is just one of those times, he told her, shrugging as he kicked off his shoes and set them to the side of the entry way. There’s a lot to see to.

Connor was working overtime constantly, handling a standard case load on top of dealing with a personal case from his younger years that had come back to haunt him over the past six months. It was clearly taking its toll on him, and Willow felt badly that she wasn’t taking more time out of her own schedule to help him out. Granted, she was busy enough as it was, trying to finish up her dissertation for the European history Ph.D. program she was in and still managing her own cases, but she could do more.

I just hate to see you look so tired, Willow told him. Maybe you should go home and catch some sleep tonight instead of playing games with us.

I probably should, he agreed, smiling. But what fun would that be?

She shook her head—but smiled back at him. Just don’t kill yourself. You’re our fearless leader, and we’d be lost without you.

Ha, he said, nudging her toward the living room where everyone else had gathered. I’m sure.

Once Joshua and Olivia were settled down in the spare bedroom where Olivia would watch a movie and Joshua would watch over her while he played his video games, they sat down to a serious game of Apples to Apples. It was one of their favorites to play when they were all together because it provided a good laugh without triggering some competitive sides lurking in several members of the group.

But it was only a few minutes into the game when Connor’s cell phone beeped, and he pulled it out of his pocket to glance at the screen. Willow saw his face fall and immediately grew concerned, especially when he stood up and sighed.

Sorry guys, but I think I need to bail. Looks like a case.

What? Ethan frowned. It’s past eight at night. Is it urgent?

It’s a teenager, Connor said, referencing the message. It could be something where he needs help now.

Willow set down her cards, sitting back as she watched her boss with concern. And what if it’s just a whim, or some game he’s playing?

Connor shrugged. It happens, sometimes. It’s my turn in the rotation, guys. It’s no big deal.

No, wait, Willow said, standing up. Let me take it. My load is pretty light right now. I can do it, and you stay here. It’s probably just a quick conversation anyway.

Connor started to protest, but the rest of the group chimed in, supporting Willow’s idea, and she nodded at her boss. Come on. Really. I’ve got this one.

He gave in, giving her a grateful smile. Thanks, Wills. He’s going down to the office. His name is Eric. I owe you.

You really, really don’t, Willow said, going to grab her shoes from beside the armchair. I’ll let you know what happens, okay? Ian, thanks for dinner. It was awesome.

As Willow headed out of the apartment, the last thing she heard was Dean’s indignant protest. Willow got to eat dinner here? Nobody told me there was dinner!

Chapter Two

Benjamin

And, so, the American Revolution impacts Britain in the sense that it marks the dividing line between the first incarnation and the second incarnation of the British Empire. The first is really more about settlement and an extension of Britain itself, but that ends with the American Revolution, opening up a second incarnation of the empire that focuses on remotely controlling populations, particularly in Asia.

Benjamin finished his read-through of his lecture, putting down his notes as he looked up from his laptop screen, where his PowerPoint was displayed. It might be a Friday night, but his son, Eric, was out for the evening, and he had little else to do than prepare for his Monday British Empire seminar class. It was a summer upper-division class, open only to history majors. He’d purposefully limited the class after a few bad experiences with letting lower-division students into his classes. For the most part, they just simply weren’t ready for the challenge. But there had been one instance where young woman, just a sophomore in college, had liked the class too much and had begun to follow him around afterward, constantly appearing at his office door and then sending him long love letters that he had stopped reading after the first few had arrived. They had been disturbingly possessive and intense, not to mention dangerous for his reputation if anyone found out. After that, whenever he’d seen the girl, he’d kept his distance, replying to anything she said with a mere nod of his head and a grunted answer. Surely, she would get over him fast enough, but in the meantime, he wasn’t going to encourage any attention from her or invite a similar situation by accepting young, inexperienced students into his classes.

Sighing, Benjamin leaned back in his chair and checked the time. It was just past eight o’clock, and he was starving, which suggested that he had forgotten to eat dinner again. For a University of Chicago professor and expert in his field, he was getting rather forgetful and dim over the past few months. At forty-four, he couldn’t exactly blame it on age, so that just left stress as the culprit.

He didn’t want to think about stress though, so he got up from his desk, stretched his long, toned torso by slowly twisting his back, then headed into the kitchen to see what was there. Eric was so often gone these days, at seventeen years old, so Benjamin didn’t keep a well-stocked refrigerator. After his wife had died twelve years ago, he had learned pretty quickly how to keep a house on his own and raise a son, but Eric was practically an adult now, and they were both at a new stage of their life. Eric’s was just beginning, and Benjamin’s was becoming ...simpler.

Lonelier, he thought, still staring at the contents of his refrigerator before finally reaching for an avocado and a tomato. Whenever he was in a pinch, an avocado, egg, tomato sandwich on lightly-toasted sourdough bread always proved to be an easy, reasonably healthy option.

Walking over to the kitchen island, avocado in hand, he pulled a knife out of the knife block and went to open the drawer that held his cutting boards. What he found there, though, was a far cry from the simple, white cutting boards he’d had for years. Instead, there was the carcass of a dead rabbit, crusted blood matted in the animal’s fur and empty eyes staring off into space. The scent was immediate and potent, causing Benjamin to gag as he stumbled backward. The knife in his hand clattered to the ground, the tip of the blade nicking the side of his bare foot badly enough that blood began to drip onto the tiled floor.

Oh, God, Benjamin said, using one hand to cover his mouth as he turned away, balancing on one foot. What the—bloody hell! Only when he was at his most shocked did his six-year stint in London show through in his expletives, but he was definitely in that place as he stared at the dead rabbit tucked into one of his kitchen drawers. There was a myriad of questions that immediately jumped to his mind, not the least of which was how the rabbit had gotten into his house in the first place. He definitely wasn’t responsible, and he knew Eric wasn’t, so someone else had been in his house, and just as much as the rabbit itself—that thought made his skin crawl with anxiety.

Carefully, he edged closer, ignoring the throbbing pain in his foot as blood flowed more freely. There, pinned to the poor animal’s fur, was a note, scrawled in red ink.

You’ll be mine.

He read the three words over and over, trying to get some sense of what they might be in reference to, but his mind was a complete blank. He didn’t date; he didn’t have a lot of close friends—in fact, he didn’t really interact with many people, aside from his students. And he couldn’t think of anyone who might feel so passionately that they would leave him such a note, particularly one pinned to a dead animal.

Unless ...

No, it couldn’t be Cosette.

Surely some student who had a crush on him wouldn’t break into his apartment and leave something so dark and twisted. He could picture her in his mind, with her chestnut-brown hair, big eyes, and nervous smile. She was a little thing, no more than five-foot-three, and when she didn’t wear her glasses, she could pass for fifteen. There was no way this was her, and he wasn’t even sure why his mind had immediately gone to her.

It was just that he no idea who would do something so completely outlandish and horrifying. And on top of that, he had no idea what one was supposed to do after finding a dead rabbit bearing dark promises in his kitchen drawer. It turned his stomach, and his sympathy for the small, innocent, helpless creature made him immediately furious, more on its behalf than on his own despite his house having clearly been broken into.

The pain in his foot was throbbing, so he hobbled over to the stove and grabbed the towel hanging there, wrapping it around his foot to stem the flow of blood. His kitchen looked like a scene out of a movie, red blood splashed all over the tiles and a mangled animal partially hanging from a drawer. Grabbing his cell phone out of the back pocket of his jeans, he snapped several photographs for documentation, then after a moment of hesitation, he called 911.

Yes, hi, he said to the operator. I don’t know if this is your arena, but I just found a dead rabbit in my kitchen drawer. He paused, listening. No, sorry—not just dead. Killed. Someone killed a rabbit and stuffed it inside my kitchen drawer. With a note. And my foot is bleeding. That part isn’t an emergency, actually, but it seems significant. Sorry—what? He paused again. Oh, yes. My address. I can give you my address.

Chapter Three

Willow

When Willow arrived at Marquette Security, the sun was just setting and a young boy—he looked no older than sixteen or seventeen—was waiting for her outside the door. He had a phone in one hand that he was scrolling through, and in his other hand, he had a folder overflowing with papers. She noted that he was a nice-looking kid, with neatly-trimmed dark hair and normal enough clothing. There was nothing sagging off of him and no sarcastic messages printed across his shirt. He looked definitively normal, which actually made her worry, because if he was a kid with his head screwed on straight, and he was still there at a private security office late at night, there could be a real problem.

Hi, there, Willow said, as she approached the boy. I’m Willow. Are you Eric?

He looked up at her, giving her the once over, but not in a way that made her feel defensive. Yeah, hi. That’s me. I thought some guy named Connor was coming to meet me.

He’s my boss. He has a pretty busy schedule right now, so he sent me, Willow said, pulling her keys out and unlocking the door to the building. There were recently-installed cameras inside and outside of the building that would record everything, so she had no concerns about being alone with the boy, either about him attempting to hurt her or him accusing her of something less than professional. In the day and age they were in, either was a possibility, and she was trained to consider all possibilities. But she wasn’t worried. Come in, she said, gesturing inside. It’s kind of late in the day, huh? What’s the trouble?

Yeah, I’m sorry about that, Eric said, walking into the front entryway of the building and glancing around. It’s just that ...uh ... he looked at her. You work here?

I do.

Like as an agent?

Willow lifted an eyebrow, a slight smile peeking at the corner of her lips. Yes....

The boy looked flustered. Sorry. I wasn’t like...questioning you. I just...I thought some guy was coming.

Well, it’s me instead, Willow said, taking a seat in one of the waiting area chairs. She wasn’t sure what this kid needed or what his deal was, so she wasn’t going to invite him back to her office where there weren’t cameras. It wasn’t like anyone was going to walk in and interrupt them—not at nine o’clock at night. So, what’s going on, Eric? Something must be bothering you for you to come down here on a Friday night.

Well, I couldn’t really come before now, he said, taking a seat, too, his folder balanced on his legs. I have a summer job, like as a day camp counselor for kids. And I do this summer musical program. Plus, I’m a runner. So...I have to do a lot of training for that. The days are just really busy, and I haven’t been sure if I should even do this or not, but I think my dad has a problem.

Willow frowned, tilting her head as she continued to study him. Your dad? Has he done something to you?

No, no, Eric said quickly. It’s not like that. I don’t have a problem with him. I’m here because someone else has a problem with him. I guess. I mean... he hesitated, then thrust the folder toward her. Here.

Taking the folder, Willow opened it and began to pick her way through the pieces of paper she found inside. Mostly, there were letters. Handwritten, long letters, written in flowing cursive that looked like it was from several decades ago even though the paper and ink both looked new and fresh.

Dearest Dr. Parson,

I saw you today, from a distance. You didn’t see me, and I didn’t approach you. These days, when I do come up to talk to you, you seem so nervous. Like I somehow offend you. I don’t understand, because you used to be so warm and loving. You were tender. Kind. Gentle. I miss those days, when just knowing that I would see you at 10:00 every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday kept me going through all of the rest of the days. Now I have to slink around to catch a glimpse of you, knowing that if our eyes meet, yours will turn cold.

It does terrible things to me inside. My stomach twists, and my heart pounds so hard that my palms begin to sweat. My reaction to you is visceral. It’s inside me. Consuming me. Owning me. Like you own me. There is no one who could ever love you more than I do. No one who would work harder to make you happy, just for the pleasure of being in the same room with you. Even just for the chance that our eyes might meet and you would once again smile at me, like you used to.

I want to touch you. To hold your face in my hands and let myself fall into your eyes. Your eyes are the only place in the world that I feel safe, and when I’m there, in your presence, I don’t have the same anxieties that always follow me. The same urges. The same doubts.

I need you, Dr. Parson. Benjamin. I need you. Every day without you, something breaks inside of me. How many more pieces of me can break before all of me is a wasteland?

Forever and only yours,

Cosette

Willow paged through the other letters, finding more of the same. Some were slightly more moderate, but others were far more desperate. Cosette spoke of not wanting to live without Benjamin Parson, and while there were no direct threats of suicide, the implication was consistently there.

When she had glanced through all of it, she set the letters aside and took a deep breath. Wow. How long has this been going on?

A long time, Eric said. It’s creepy, right? Dad tries to downplay it. He says it’s best to just ignore her and let her get over this obsession on her own, but I’m not sure. I stole these from his desk drawer at home, and I went through them. I knew he’d get real pissed if I actually went to the police, so I just Googled private detectives and found you. Don’t you think it’s pretty crazy?

Willow took a deep breath, running her fingers