Hardy Brothers Security: Deadly Proposal Part 18

Grady ran a hand through his long hair, fighting the frustration rushing through him. "We're going to send you a check tomorrow. I didn't know about any of this."

"It's hard to see when you're not looking," Jen said.

Her words were harsh, but warranted. Grady forced a tight smile onto his face. "When this is all settled, I'd like to donate more than money."

Jen's face broke into a wide smile. "That's the best thing you could have ever said to me. Solve your crime. Keep your brother's girlfriend safe. Then? Then come and see me. I've got more for you to do than you can imagine."

"I'll be back."

Seventeen.

Grady refused to take Sophie to the tent town after dark. He had a feeling she would find the place on her own her own need to do a story and drum up funds driving her but he wanted to make the initial visit himself.

After kissing Sophie goodbye the next morning, he showered and headed toward the area Jen had directed him. He drove up and down North River Road multiple times, finally giving up when he couldn't find the tent town from the street.

He parked in one of the small outlets local fishermen utilized to gain access to the river, and then hiked into the woods.

It didn't take him long, the sound of people talking and the smell of barrel fires drawing him to a clearing about a half of a mile into the secluded forest refuge. When his mind registered what he was seeing, Grady fought the urge to cry and then hit something.

There were at least seventy-five men milling about, talking, and about half that many tents to keep them safe from the elements. It was late spring, which meant the nights weren't terribly cold, but Grady couldn't help but wonder what happened to these people during the deep freeze a.s.sociated with a Michigan winter.

Grady kept his distance at first, taking in the situation. Everyone there was male, dressed in ragged clothing, and seemingly disinterested in the outside world. The ages of the inhabitants ranged from the late twenties on up until the late sixties, from what Grady could tell.

His heart hurt just looking at them.

"Can I help you?"

Grady jumped when he heard the voice, shifting so he could take in the man moving in next to him. This man was different. He was dressed in simple blue jeans, a white T-shirt, and a Carhart jacket. His clothes were neither dirty nor distressed. In fact, if he hadn't been standing where he was standing, Grady would have a.s.sumed the man was just a normal guy out and about his daily errands in Macomb County.

His hair was short around his neck, longer on top, and a cross between brown and black. His eyes were dark and thoughtful. Unlike the malnourished brethren in the tent town, this man was well built from hours in the gym.

He didn't belong here.

"Who are you?" Grady asked.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Grady Hardy," he replied, extending his hand. "And you are?"

The man took his hand, no sense of guilt emanating from him, although a strong sense of suspicion was still there. "I'm Jake Harrison."

"May I ask what you're doing out here, Jake?" Grady asked.

"What are you doing out here?"

Grady gritted his teeth. "I was at the shelter in Roseville last night. I found out about this place and I just ... well, I wanted to check it out."

"And why would you want to do that?" Jake asked.

Grady shrugged. "I have my reasons."

"Which are?"

"Why are you here?" Grady asked, putting the onus of the conversation squarely on Jake. "You don't look like you belong here."

"Neither do you," Jake shot back.

"Fine," Grady said. "I'm looking for a man named Cole Gordon. Your turn."

"Why are you looking for Cole?"

"Oh, no," Grady said, shaking his head. "I asked you first."

"I come out here three times a week," Jake said. "I bring food, medical supplies, and warm clothes."

"Why?"

"Because they need it."

Grady ran his gaze over the man again. "You're a veteran, aren't you?"

"I am."

"Where did you serve?"

"Where did you serve?" Jake challenged.

"What makes you think I served?"

"You've got a certain ... air about you."

"And what air is that?"

"You're a conflicted man," Jake said. "You're here on a mission, but you're also horrified by what you've found. You're just not sure what to do about either mission."

Grady sighed, liking the man and his vigilance despite his hostile nature. "I was in the Army for three years," Grady said. "I didn't know this place existed until last night."

"And you came out here the first thing this morning?"

"I have dual issues right now," Grady admitted. "I need to find Cole Gordon. I also want to try to help out here."

Jake ran his tongue over his teeth, shifting his head to the side while he considered Grady's admission. "Why do you want Cole?"

Grady launched into the story, telling it for the second time in its entirety in less than twenty-four hours. When he was done, Jake couldn't hide his surprise.

"Wow."

"Yup."

"And the girl, the one hurt in the explosion, she's okay?"

"She's pretty much back to normal," Grady said. "I think her back still has some healing to do, but she's much better than she was."

"And Jen at Prospect Park House told you about this place?"

"She was trying to help."

Jake rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "You're in a hard place."

"We're in limbo," Grady countered. "I want to solve the first problem, and then I want us all to focus on this problem."

Jake chuckled, the sound hollow. "Do you really think this is a problem you can solve?"

"I think this is a problem that needs to be addressed," Grady replied. "These men deserve more than this."

"You don't think I know that?"

"I think you're doing the best you can," Grady said. "You're obviously trying to help."

"But you think you can fix it all," Jake said, his smile small, his voice mirthless.

"I want to try."

"I thought like you do when I first started coming out here," Jake said. "That was a year ago."

"And what do you think now?"

"I think that I can help," Jake replied. "There's nothing here I can fix."

Grady nodded, glancing around at the men who were warming their hands near the barrel fires. "Then I'll come out here and help, too."

Jake nodded. "There's nothing wrong with helping."

Grady turned back to Jake. "Do you know where Cole Gordon is?"

"I haven't seen Cole is almost two weeks," Jake said. "He was only here two nights before he left."

"Why did he leave?"

"He has ... issues."

"Don't we all?"

"Cole's issues are profound," Jake said. "He hears voices. They tell him to do things. He's also susceptible to suggestion."

"Meaning?"

"He can be talked into things."

That made sense, Grady realized. If someone with a grudge against Mandy needed a scapegoat who better to enlist than a damaged man who heard voices? "We're not sure it's him," Grady cautioned. "In fact, we have no reason to believe it's him right now. The bombs are ... problematic. If it is him, I'm thinking someone else pointed him in Mandy's direction."

"And why would someone do that? Isn't she just a court clerk?"

Grady shrugged. "My brothers and I have accrued enemies. Maybe someone went after Mandy because of her ties to us."

"Or?"

"Or maybe someone from the court system has a grudge against her."

"Or?"

"Or, maybe, it's something else entirely and I'm completely on the wrong track," Grady conceded.

"Do you have a card?"

Grady pulled one out of his back pocket and handed it over to Jake.

"I'll keep my ear to the ground," Jake said. "If I hear anything, I'll give you a call."

"Thank you."

JAMES let himself into Mandy's office without knocking. She was sitting behind her desk, intent on whatever task was in front of her, and she didn't immediately hear him.

"h.e.l.lo, sunshine."

Mandy smiled, not bothering to look up. "You're early."

"Only fifteen minutes," James said, closing the office door behind him.

"I'm almost done."

"Okay."

James moved around the desk, running his fingertips over the glazed top as he rounded the corner. "Are you done yet?"

"Just a second." She was distracted.

James glanced back at the door, wishing for a second that he had locked it. That wasn't part of the fantasy, though, and he wanted this to be authentic. "Okay."

He stood, watching her work for a second. She was so focused that it bordered on cute. "Are you done yet?"