Page 237 of Unexpected Heroine

Only one comes to mind. Klein’s mother.

Shit, shit, shit.

If Klein and Mia are coming in, then his mother will be left alone with her Alzheimer’s caregiver. As I pass Leo’s office, I stick my head in. He’ll likely know off-hand if we have anyone available. Normally, that shit would be clear in my mind, but worry over Lettie and this entire shit show has clouded my thoughts.

Fortunately, Leo’s standing over his desk, shuffling paper around and muttering to himself.

“Hey, Lionheart.”

“Ready for the meeting, T?”

Not bothering to answer his irrelevant question, I pose my own. “Did you send someone to guard Klein’s mother? He and Mia are coming in shortly, so she’ll be vulnerable. Considering they don’t know the extent of the threat, they likely didn’t set up anything else for her.”

Leo picks up his tablet and drags his giant finger across the screen to scroll. “Mia and Klein badged in twelve minutes ago.”

I move in, looking over his shoulder while he taps across a few screens.

He’s brought up our active-duty roster. “We are running out of guards. Shit. This is tight.”

As I study the screen with him, my chest fills with a jittery sensation like I had too much caffeine. “We can’t leave her exposed. Not after she fucking witnessed Mia’s abduction last weekend.”

“Agreed.” He swipes through page after page.

“There,” I say, pointing to the only unassigned guard. “Marley.”

“She’s supposed to be off today. Oh well. I’ll contact her now.”

“Tell her to stay outside. No need to worry Klein’s mother or her caregiver.”

“Good call.” He tips his chin toward the doorway. “Head down to the meeting. The troops are likely getting restless. We’ll be right in.”

“Thanks, Lionheart.”

He waves me off, lifting the ringing cell phone to his ear.

When I enter the conference room, it’s approaching capacity. It’s a large space with a table roughly fifteen feet long running down the center. Floor-to-ceiling windows line one side, and all the shades are drawn for obvious reasons. Extra chairs were brought in for this meeting, lining the back wall.

My typical seat is open, along with a few others around the head of the table. Not sure why people gravitate to the back of the room. Then again, I suppose it makes sense, given no one has a clue what this meeting is about. Probably best to give Boss some breathing room when shit is unstable.

Quietly and swiftly, I take my seat and open my laptop. Despite a long task list of shit to investigate, phone calls to return, and research to do, there isn’t anything I can handle from here. Not yet.

All I can do is wait.

Well, that and think through everything I’ll tackle as soon as this meeting ends. My mind catalogs tasks, shuffling them around into order of operations and importance. Prioritizing like this happens on autopilot now after this many years in this role.

“Hey, Tomer. How are you?” Mia asks from my right, shaking me slightly from my mental organization.

Keeping my focus on the Redleg logo on my screen, I respond flatly, “Fine.”

Fortunately, she doesn’t inquire about the heightened security. Unfortunately, she asks about something far worse.

“How’s Lettie doing?”

Before I can quell my instinctual reaction, my shoulders roll forward, and my chin drops.

Might as well get it out there. As much as I’d love to avoid discussing Lettie, it’ll come out today when we talk about the protocol for the shelter, which requires extra support and monitoring. “She decided to stay with some of the other girls we rescued at the house the Langley Foundation provided.”

Drop it, Mia.

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