Page 9 of Landon

Noel accepted the drink with a murmured thanks, noting the elegance of the glass as well as the thoughtful gesture. Jana also served drinks to Mike and brought water for Landon, each served in beautiful cut-glass tumblers that added a touch of sophistication to the journey.

Sipping the cool ginger ale, Noel felt the soothing bubbles ease her unsettled stomach. After a few moments, she glanced at Landon and gave him a grateful nod. “Thanks. This is perfect.”

The corners of his lips curved ever so slightly in a subtle gesture but enough to transform his typically stoic demeanor. That almost smile sent a flutter through her chest, a small triumph that felt oddly significant. She couldn’t help but wonder if she might see that expression more often, maybe even a full smile, once the mission was complete and they had the children safely on their way home.

A sudden realization struck her. Why exactly was someone like Landon necessary for this trip? The Fugates had kept things vague when briefing her, and she hadn’t had much time to process the full scope of her role before being whisked away.

Leaning slightly forward, she met Landon’s steady gaze, her curiosity piqued. “Tell me… why do the Fugates need a security specialist on this trip? What do you think will happen?”

5

Despite his earlier efforts to keep his attention elsewhere, Landon's gaze lingered on the woman sitting across from him. At the Fugates’ house, he’d tried to focus solely on the mission, but Noel Lennox’s presence was impossible to ignore. He had been caught off guard, expecting an older, more seasoned social worker for a judge to have recommended. Instead, she was young, strikingly attractive, and carried herself with a quiet confidence that hinted at depth beyond her years. Upon reflection, he realized his original assumption that she would be older was ridiculous.

Her gaze was filled with intelligent curiosity, not idle curiosity. Landon had seen that same look during his years with the Bureau, usually from the people who offered the most valuable insights. Noel was clearly more than capable, and her questions were precise, cutting to the heart of the matter.

And her question was well-founded. The demands from Pamela were being met. He was carrying the signed paperwork. A copy had already been sent to her to review. The need for the social worker made sense, considering Pamela wouldn’t allow anyone from the family to come, and they wanted to ensure the children’s emotional well-being was being met.

But Landon knew better than to underestimate human unpredictability, especially when emotions were running high. Despite getting what she wanted, Pamela had already shown herself to be manipulative and mercenary, willing to use her children as bargaining chips. That kind of unpredictability warranted extra caution.

Glancing to the other side of the plane, he spied Mike with his eyes closed and earbuds in place. The man may be listening to their conversation. Landon had sent the name and a quickly snapped photograph of Mike to the LSIMT compound. He hoped to hear back soon to confirm Mike’s story. While the reason was plausible, Landon didn’t trust the man and feared there might be another reason behind his accompanying them on the trip.

Looking across the small table at Noel, he said, “I’m here because the Fugates don’t trust Pamela and are more comfortable ensuring security on the trip.”

Her lips pressed together into a thin line. “You anticipate problems?”

“I hope not,” he replied, his tone calm but firm. “But it’s always better to be safe than sorry.” He offered a tight-lipped smile, hoping to ease her concerns, but her expression remained serious.

Noel nodded slowly but didn’t smile. Her expression vividly showed her thoughts. She was obviously pondering his words, reading between the lines. She opened her mouth as though to speak, but her gaze darted to the side. Her mouth snapped shut, and her brow lowered as she kept her attention on Mike for almost a minute. Even from the side, Landon could tell where her thoughts had gone. She was suspicious of their cabinmate.

Looking back at Landon, she mouthed, “What about him?”

He simply shrugged, giving no verbal response. She must have understood his desire not to speak in front of the unknownman. The edge of her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she nodded slowly. He had to admit that it was hard not to stare at the reddened flesh but keep his gaze squarely on her eyes.

Noel leaned back, seemingly deciding to let the topic drop for now. “I won’t keep you from your work,” she said softly. “I have some reading to catch up on, and considering my boss called in the middle of the night, I could use a bit of rest.”

She turned slightly in her chair, facing the window, and pulled out her e-reader. Landon should have felt relieved at the prospect of a quiet flight, free from further questions. But as Noel’s voice faded and she turned her attention to her book, a surprising realization settled over him—he already missed the sound of her voice.

She read for a few moments, then rested the device in her lap, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. The cabin fell into a gentle hush, the hum of the plane the only sound filling the space. And for the first time in a long while, Landon, a man who thrived in solitude, felt an unfamiliar pang of loneliness.

It didn’t take long before he received the awaited message from LSIMT. Looking down at his phone, he read the message twice. Mike Westerly. Fifty-four years old. Employed with the Fugate Ranch for almost forty years. Started as a stable boy when he was a teenager. Moved up to ranch hand. Then he continued over the years to progress until he became Thurston’s right-hand man. From all accounts, loyal. Nothing suggested he was there for any other reason than to be precisely what he said… a familiar face to the kids to make their journey back home less stressful.

Taking advantage of Noel and Mike sleeping while Jana was behind her curtain, he used his handheld device for detecting bugs. Slowly rotating the device around the interior, he looked down at the indicator, glad to discover no listening devices wereplanted inside the cabin of the plane. That included anything on Mike’s person.

It struck him odd that Mike wasn’t introduced to them inside the ranch home.Was there a reason Thurston wanted Mike’s presence on the trip to be unknown until they were almost in the air?He tapped out more questions to the Keepers back at the compound. While he waited for the answers, Landon’s gaze drifted to the woman sitting across from him, unable to pinpoint exactly what it was about her that commanded his attention. She wasn’t just pretty; she had a kind of understated allure, the type of beauty that sneaks up on you, familiar and comforting, like the girl next door. Yet there was more beneath the surface. She smiled easily, a warmth that seemed genuine, but he’d also seen her maintain a serious focus, the kind that suggested a mind that didn’t miss much.

With her eyes closed and her face softened in sleep, Landon allowed himself to observe her without interruption. Her features were delicate yet strong—an intriguing contrast. The faint lines at the corners of her eyes, barely noticeable, spoke of experience, not just years.

Subtly, he tapped into his phone, waiting for the information he’d requested. It didn’t take long for Sadie to respond.

Noel Lennox. Thirty-two years old. Single, never married. Born and raised in Billings, Montana. Parents still living, one brother. Graduated from the University of Montana with a degree in psychology, and then earned a master’s degree in social work. Employed by the Helena Department of Social Services for nine years. Lives alone in a small apartment. Pays her bills on time, no criminal record—not even a parking ticket.

A faint smile tugged at Landon’s lips. A spotless record wasn’t unexpected for someone in her profession, but not even a parking ticket? That hinted at someone who played by the rules.He couldn’t help but wonder how she’d react to the kind of rules his line of work often required him to bend—or break.

Strangely, as he stared at her gentle features as she slept, he wished she had been the one to reveal her background to him. Digging into her life felt invasive even though it was standard procedure. Knowing all the players was essential for any mission, but something about prying into her life left a sour taste.

Shifting his focus, he skimmed over the details Sadie had sent about Mike. A few run-ins with the law—bar fights, public intoxication—all handled discreetly by the Fugates’ attorney, Roy Barton. Nothing that raised any red flags. Ranch life was tough, and Thurston Fugate likely saw no harm in a man blowing off steam now and then as long as he remained fiercely loyal to the family. Landon could understand why Thurston trusted Mike enough to send him along.

Satisfied for now, Landon leaned back in his seat. So far, nothing alarming had come up. Maybe, just maybe, this mission would go smoothly. In and out. A clean retrieval.

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