Page 2 of Barbed Wire and Burglary
Decker strode back to the stretch of sidewalk where A.J. was standing. “Betsy and her husband used to operate this truck together.” He drew a heavy breath. “Now it’s just her.”
A.J. nodded and took a sip of coffee. He had no reason to pry further into the woman’s story. At the moment, his only concern was why he was being waylaid on the curb of Main Street by a founding partner of the fastest growing security firm in the state.
“Walk with me,” his companion urged, gesturing toward the lake the town was named after. It stretched ahead of them for miles, glistening in the morning sun as if diamonds were floating just beneath the surface. An icy wind sliced across the foothills of the Christmas Mountains, chapping A.J.’s cheeks.
Ever in control of his outward emotions, he hid a shiver. Though he was bundled in a coat, gloves, and boots, he preferred warmer climates. He’d spent two decades going back and forth on overseas deployments—often to the deserts of Arabia.
“Where to?” He didn’t budge, preferring to understand what he was getting himself into first.
“Lonestar Security.” Decker Kingston pointed at an ancient-looking two-story brown brick structure in the distance. “It’s inside the old post office. They renovated it to bring it into the twenty-first century, but it’s still chock full of Old West charm. Would you like a tour?”
His offer piqued A.J.’s interest. “A town councilmananda tour guide,” he drawled, knowing that Decker Kingston was so much more than that. “Are you sure the owners won’t mind us barging in unannounced?”
The councilman’s square features relaxed into a smile. “Eh, I know a few guys who work there.” It was an absurd statement, since he’d likely had a say in every last one of their hiring decisions.
A.J. decided to play along. “Then I’ll take you up on your offer.” Somehow, he doubted that a tour of the old post office was the end game of their not-so-accidental encounter. Falling into step beside the councilman, he sipped his coffee as they strolled the couple of blocks to Lonestar Security.
A white stone roof extended from the main room to cover a set of glass entrance doors. Concrete stairs in the middle and concrete ramps on both sides led up to a narrow porch. At first glance, the only non-original feature appeared to be the attached two-story parking garage in the back of the building.
Mr. Kingston jogged ahead of A.J. to open the door, ushering him inside a quaint two-story lobby. He gestured grandly with both hands, plunging into a vibrant description of the place. “The walls are the original white marble, same as the floors. We had to touch up the metallic gold paint on the face boards and the trim around the windows,but we found a painter who was able to match it perfectly.”
He didn’t mention the security cameras dotting the walls and ceiling, which were a testament of modern technology. A.J. was tempted to wave at them, certain that every breath he took was being recorded. Directly in front of them stretched an old mahogany counter. Once upon a time, post office clerks had manned each window. Instead, they stood empty, serving merely as an elegant barrier between the entry foyer and the cubicle offices beyond it.
“You saidwe.” A.J. latched onto the word, wondering if it had been a slip of the tongue on the part of his tour guide. “Were you part of the construction crew, then?” He already knew that wasn’t the case, but he couldn’t resist teasing the guy.
“Close enough.” Decker smirked. “As one of the owners, I had to be on site nearly 24/7 for parts of the renovation. Believe me, I’ve done everything from mopping floors to scrubbing toilets.”
The only reasonA.J. could think of for why the guy hadn’t revealed that detail sooner was that he was watching A.J. as closely as A.J. was watching him, probably to figure out how much A.J. already knew about him and his company.
He counted off the number of hats Decker Kingston wore, wondering what game he was up to. “Councilman, tour guide, co-owner of a security company, and occasional janitor.” Plus, his wife owned and operated Modello’s. Modello’s was a boutique located in the heart of the business district that showcased some surprisingly exclusive lines of clothing from Paris and Milan. Surprising for such a small town, that is. “Did I leave anything out, Mr. Kingston?”
“Just call me Decker.” Decker Kingston looked amused as he led A.J. through the maze of cubicles. He jokingly referred to them as thebullpen, since they housed Lonestar’s team of bodyguards and security personnel—an unsmiling crew that watched A.J. with the expressionless suspicion that came with the job. “The only items you left out were dog owner and proud father of a toddler. Got another kid on the way, too,” he added proudly.
Wow! Must be nice.“Congratulations.” Envy stabbed A.J., widening the ache in his chest that he’d learned to live with. He’d lost his wife to heart disease shortly after they were married. Since they’d been unaware of her condition, her heart attack had come without warning, spelling out a lonely career for him in the military. He’d never remarried, so he’d never gotten to experience the joys of fatherhood.
“Thank you.” Decker marched them down a long marble hallway behind the bullpen. They arrived at an enormous office, complete with its own coffee bar and conference table. Decker jovially waved A.J. toward it.
The guy lived like a king within the walls of the building, convincing A.J. more than ever that their encounter outside the food truck was no accident. He took a seat, still sipping on his coffee, as he waited for his host to reveal why he’d bothered tracking him down.
Decker moved to his desk to toss his Stetson onto it. Then he joined A.J. at the conference table, straddling the chair across from him. His features abruptly grew serious. “I’d like to hire you, A.J. May I call you that?”
Here we go.A.J. set his cup of coffee on the table and leaned closer to Decker. “Yes, I answer to A.J., but I’ll pass on the job offer. I’m retired.” He was interested, but he didn’t want to appear too eager. The fact he was still seatedwas the only satisfaction he gave the guy to indicate he was still listening.
Decker didn’t look the least bit discouraged by his words. “I think we both know the only job you’re retired from is the military. As for my offer, it only makes sense for us to work together while you’re in town.” His voice took on a warning edge.
A.J. held back a chuckle. “Whatever you think you know about me?—”
“I know you earned two Purple Hearts and nearly lost your life in service to your country,” Decker interrupted coolly. “Plus, you’re the recipient of the Distinguished Service Cross, thesecond-highest award given by the United States Army.”
The way he stressed the wordsecondgrated on A.J.’s nerves. It was a sore point with him. Not that he cared about personal accolades, but a certain three-star general had campaigned hard against him behind closed doors to sabotage his chances of being awarded the Medal of Honor. The aggrieved general was A.J.’s father-in-law, a man who’d wrongfully blamed A.J.’s many absences from home as the main contributor to the loss of his wife. It wasn’t true, but there was nothing A.J. could do about it.
He nodded grimly to acknowledge that Decker had done his homework. “Like you said, I’ve earned my retirement.” He pushed back his chair and scooped up his cup of coffee, suddenly longing for fresh air. “Thanks for the tour.” It was a calculated risk, since he was ninety-nine percent sure the guy would stop him. Getting on board a company like Lonestar Security would be crucial to the success of A.J.’s investigation on the streets of Heart Lake.
“Just hear me out.” Decker stood.
A.J. paused in mid-pivot toward the door.
“A whole squad of fellow policemen had your back while you were in the service.” His prospective employer spread his hands. “All I’m asking is that you let us have your back now, Colonel. I think it’s safe to say you wouldn’t be in town if there wasn’t a pack of trouble brewing.” It was the first time he’d used A.J.’s military title. “And anytime there’s trouble brewing in Heart Lake, it’s my business. Our business,” he corrected, waving vaguely at the walls to include the rest of his employees. “Like you, Lonestar Security does contract work for the police. We even have a retired sheriff on staff. In fact, we’re the first place the local police department turns every time they need more hands on deck.”
