Fractured Legacy (Darkness Bound / Frqactured Legacy #1) Read online

  Kaylyn slid into the car. Flipping down the visor, she opened the mirror to check out her discolored cheek. “It won’t happen again. Let’s just get this back to the office so it can be sent to the lab-coat squad, and they can figure out what it is.”

  The ride back to the office was full of silent-but-pestering sideways glances and the nervous tapping of Cole’s fingers against the steering wheel. When they arrived, Kaylyn was relieved to get out of the car, even knowing full-well what awaited her inside.

  Cole, however, didn’t move after putting the car in park. “Have you talked to Ian?”

  “What?” Kaylyn ducked her head down to look back into the car.

  “Maybe you should talk to him. Resolve whatever it is that’s got you all—” Cole waved her hand at Kaylyn as if it explained everything she was trying to say.

  “This,” Kaylyn moved her hands in imitation, “has nothing to do with Ian, or his moving out and moving on.”

  “Then what, Kay? Are you sick? Did something else happen?” Cole’s eyes narrowed. “You haven’t been talking to Nick again….”

  Kaylyn rolled her eyes, wondering if this was going to turn into a rewind through every guy she’d ever dated. “He’s in Canada.”

  “Wrong answer.”

  “No. I haven’t been talking to him, or any other guy. Why do you always think my problems come down to men?” Kaylyn slammed the door.

  “Because they usually do.” Cole huffed, meeting Kaylyn at the trunk of the car. “I’ve never seen you like this. I’ve seen you distant, cut off, and depressed, but even depressed you were more engaged than now. You’re pushing everyone and everything away.”

  “I’m just tired. Maybe I need a change of scenery. A vacation.”

  “Damn, you are sick. We spent the last three years of college doing full-time coursework and working here, and you reveled in the chaos. But three months of working full-time and workaholic Kaylyn suddenly needs a vacation?

  “I’m tired of lying to everyone.”

  “So, it is about Ian.”

  “No. It is not about Ian. It’s about everything. Everyone in our family thinks we’re bounty hunters. You go home every night and lie to your fiancé. You don’t think that, one day, all this lying is going to come back to kick our asses?”

  “We are bounty hunters… kind of, except the crazies we bring in usually aren’t human.”

  “So, as long as it’s some twisted version of the truth, you’re okay with it?”

  Cole shrugged as she pulled the bag out of the trunk. “We save people. We make the city safer, and someone has to do it.”

  Kaylyn shook her head. “Can we stop dawdling and get this over with?”

  As they approached the guard at the front door, Kaylyn trailed behind Cole, watching the black bag, full of shattered artifact, swing in her sister’s hand. It was like a mini-body bag, except there wasn’t a dead person inside, just the remains of Kaylyn’s young and dying career.

  Both girls waved at Darrell, the day-shift guard, and he buzzed them inside. The offices were located in an old, remodeled Victorian home that dwarfed the surrounding structures. Not that there was much left in the area; most of the nearby buildings had been overrun with pavement for a new strip mall, but Aicil had the means to make sure this building wasn’t touched.

  “I’m going to run this down to the research room. Try not to break anything,” Cole smirked.

  “Hardy har har.” Kaylyn rolled her eyes, then glanced in the direction of Carlisle’s office. Since the door was closed, maybe he would be too busy to deal with chewing her out today, but her optimism faded as she reached the empty coffee pot nestled in the corner just down from Carlisle’s door. “What? No one can remake coffee?”

  Grabbing the glass carafe, she turned toward the sink nearly plowing down a man she didn’t recognize. “Geez.” She grabbed the table for balance. “You shouldn’t sneak up on a girl!”

  He was tall, but hidden away under a full suit with a tie. No one got past Darrell and into the building unless they worked here—which meant there was a rookie in their midst. Goody.

  His gaze swept down her front.

  “Can I help you?” she asked when he didn’t back away.

  “A bit casual for work, don’t you think?” He spoke with a mix of accents that she couldn’t quite place.

  “I call it functional, new boy. I earn my keep.” Mostly, she added in her head, but he didn’t have to know that. She pushed passed him to fill up the pot, but when she turned back, he was still staring after her, his arms crossed and one eyebrow cocked. Then, he swiveled and marched into Carlisle’s office. Kaylyn grimaced, but before she could question it, Cole bumped her in the arm.

  “You’ll never believe the news around here.” She crinkled her face.

  “New rookie?” Kaylyn guessed.

  Cole snorted. “Carlisle’s gone. We have a new boss—”

  Kaylyn’s insides flipped as her gaze flicked back to the office door.

  “—apparently, he’s a looker and strict, so you should watch out.” Cole finished.

  Kaylyn dumped the water into the reservoir and plopped in a filter and some coffee grounds.

  “Okay…” Cole drawled, narrowing her eyes in an expression that reminded Kaylyn of their mother. “What did you do?”

  Kaylyn shook her head just as Carlisle’s door—or no-longer-Carlisle’s door—swung open again.

  “Kaylyn and Nicole Anderson?”

  Cole nodded, but Kaylyn couldn’t force her body to do more than stare back at her new and far-too-young boss.

  Jonah

  “Jonah Troyer,” he introduced himself. “We should have a talk. Can you join me in my office for a few moments?”

  My office. The words still felt strange as they passed through his brain and out his mouth. He’d gotten his orders earlier this week, but since he was transferred to the Boston office two months ago, he’d known that Aicil had something planned for him. This wasn’t what he imagined.

  Taking a step back, he ushered them through the door. Nicole, at least, looked the part of an Aicil investigator, but Kaylyn… He’d really hoped that things weren’t as out of hand here as the Council feared. But from the look of the bruise forming on Kaylyn’s face, and the messages he’d received within hours of starting this morning, any positive attitude he’d held on to had vanished. Kaylyn’s words, I earn my keep, echoed in his brain. He’d barely reigned in his reaction at the time—torn between laughing his ass off and setting her straight—but he contained it long enough to address both sisters at the same time.

  Jonah followed them into the room and took a seat behind the large oak desk that dominated the room. “Sorry no one was here to take your call this morning. The transition was sudden, and we had assumed that there wouldn’t be any problems with a simple pick-up.”

  Both girls lowered their eyes at his implication, but neither seemed eager to explain the situation, so Jonah leaned back in his seat and continued. “The council assigned me to this office because they felt that Carlisle was lax in his leadership, and from what I’ve heard and seen this morning, I have to agree. While the public may not be fully aware of what we do here, we are a well-known research organization, and you have a duty to represent Aicil on all assignments. Meaning you should act and dress accordingly.”

  Jonah took his gaze off Kaylyn for a moment, looking back just in time to see her roll her eyes. Realizing she was caught, her eyelids fell over her eyes as she straightened in her seat and chomped down on her lower lip.

  “Something you’d like to say, Kaylyn?” he asked.

  She paused, glaring up at him. At first, he thought she’d take the smart route and hold her tongue, but she didn’t.

  “How practical would it be for us to do our jobs dressed like junior prom attendees? We spend half of our time crawling around in places most people wouldn’t dream of going.”

  Jonah felt the tendon in his neck pulse, but tried to hide his reaction. Without
lowering his gaze, he slid open the bottom desk drawer, pulled out one of the small booklets and tossed it to her. “Regardless of your preference, it’s policy, I encourage you to read up on the dress code.”

  Kaylyn shifted in her seat, staring down at the booklet while shades of red splotched her face, meeting with the circle swelling around her eye.

  “Kaylyn?” He prodded, still waiting on her to acknowledge his order.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll study up.”

  “The council wants this place run more professionally, and there will be changes. Not everyone will be happy with those changes, but given your history and standing with the organization, I expect you to cooperate.” He sighed and leaned to the side. “Any questions?”

  Both girls stared down at the floor without making a sound, until Nicole cleared her throat.

  “I assume you want us to address you as Mr. Troyer?”

  Jonah’s expression relaxed. “I may be strict, but I’m not a prude. Jonah is fine. However, if members of the Council are visiting, Mr. Troyer it is. Anything else?”

  “Um,” Nicole inched forward in her seat, “On the topic of names, you called me Nicole. I prefer Cole”

  Jonah had seen mention of that in the files, but it was difficult to imagine calling a girl who looked like that, Cole. “Interesting choice. Mind if I ask why?”

  “Well, Nicole isn’t rare. When I was a kid, there were two other girls named Nicole in my class,” she shrugged, “Nicole and Nikki were taken, so I was Cole.”

  “Cole it is, then. If that’s all, you’ll find a list of paperwork in your personal mailboxes. I’ll need that addressed as soon as possible, as well as a full report on the artifact you were sent to retrieve this morning. It shouldn’t take more than a few hours, then you’ll be dismissed for the day.”

  Cole offered a smile before exiting, but Kaylyn kept her eyes on the ground and her jaw set. Jonah shook his head and leaned back, he needed a few seconds to breathe before the next calamity struck, but his needs didn't stop the office phone from ringing. He pinched the bridge of his nose and picked up the receiver.

  “Jonah Troyer.”

  “Um… Yes…” The man on the other end seemed apprehensive, not uncommon for clients who were contacting Aicil for the first time, but it didn’t bode well with Jonah’s impatience. “I’m looking for Carlisle Palmer.”

  “Sorry, he was transferred. I’ve taken over his position.”

  “Oh, well…” There was another long silence before he continued. “My name is Alex Roarch, owner of the Teague Hotel.”

  And I’m sure I’m supposed to know that place… Without responding, Jonah flipped through some of the papers he’d pulled from the desk, hoping to find a clue to direct the conversation, but nothing mentioned either Roarch or the Teague.

  “I spoke with Carlisle on Monday.”

  Of course, you did. “I’m sorry, the transfer was quite sudden, and I haven’t been able to review all of his notes.”

  “I was referred to your office under assurances that this would be handled quickly and quietly. I’m not even sure we have a problem, but two of my contractors claimed to have experienced something in the hotel. Frankly, I'm not interested in wasting time on it, but the entire crew is refusing to return to work until the place is cleared, so. Carlisle said he’d assign two of his best to get this taken care of. They were supposed to meet me at the hotel at five this evening for a walk through.”

  Growing up in the business taught Jonah one thing, the skeptics and the gung-ho believers were equally difficult to deal with. Both required a finesse in drawing out the facts needed to solve the case. Jonah’s thumb tapped against the arm of his chair, as he ticked off the options for handing over the case. “Of course. I will have a team ready to meet with you this evening. It would help if you could give me some details about the case.”

  “Kaylyn and Cole Anderson.” Mr. Roarch replied, without acknowledging Jonah’s request. “That’s who he promised.”

  Shit. Jonah’s foot caught the edge of the desk as he jerked to attention. He hadn’t intended on sending them out on any big cases, and this client was already wearing on his nerves. “I’ll check to see if they’re available, but th—”

  “Carlisle assured me that they would be the best for the job. As you’re new in the position, don’t you think he knew who would be best?”

  “Of course.” Except that Carlisle didn’t know what was best, and that’s why he was transferred. He considered assigning another pair, just to irk the man, but decided against outright sabotaging his reputation in the community. Besides, if they screwed up now, it was still on Carlisle’s head. Like the man said, Carslisle would know best. “I’ll make sure that they are ready to begin on the case today.”

  Mr. Roarch hung up before there could be any more conversation on the matter.

  “And it just keeps getting better and better.” Jonah leaned back in the chair until it popped in protest.

  The phone rang again—this time his cell.

  “Jonah Troyer.” He struggled to push the tension out of his voice.

  “St. Claire Hospital. The authorities requested that you be notified when Cas Edwards was released. He suffered a minor concussion, but will make a full recovery.”

  “Thank you.” Jonah disconnected the phone and threw it on the desk. He rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair, staring at both phones and daring either of them to ring again. When he was satisfied with the silence, he leaned forward and pulled up Carlisle’s files on the computer. Nothing on Teague Hotel or Mr. Roarch jumped out, but the files were about as organized as the Arc De Triomphe during rush hour. As his eyes blurred over from the jumble of thumbnails, he ran a search on case files and once again came up with nothing.

  How hard was it for someone to log office activity?

  After skimming through the files one last time, he closed the window and began searching through the desk, hoping for a notebook, folder, words jotted on a stained napkin—anything. Carlisle must have kept some records somewhere, but Jonah wasn’t even finding a breadcrumb. He slammed the last desk drawer closed.

  That left the filing cabinets. He had already peeked through them when he arrived, half of the folders weren’t even labeled properly, as if Carlisle had been overcome by paranoia and developed his own cryptic system. It was going to take him a month to get his own office organized, not to mention dealing with the rest of his new staff.

  Picking up his cell, he scrolled through his contacts, grimacing as Sabine popped up, followed by Gerrard Cloutier, his former boss. Two months, and he still hadn’t cleared their information off his SIM card. It was time he accepted that he wouldn’t be going back to the Paris office, so what was hard about pushing delete? Aside from the nagging insistence that even though he didn’t want to, he might need the numbers again.

  He continued to scroll through the names, and tapped his Dad’s office number.

  A familiar voice came on the line, after only two rings. “Jonah, how is the new assignment?”

  “I got pulled out of Paris two months ago, and now I’m in Ohio. How do you think it’s going?”

  His father made a guttural sound. “Maybe you shouldn’t ha—”

  “I know, Dad. I know why I was reassigned, but why here?”

  “Because we needed someone we could trust, and you wanted your own office.”

  Jonah stood a paperclip between his finger and the desktop and flicked it across the room. “This wasn’t what I had in mind.”

  “Would you prefer that I retire and give you mine?”

  “You know what I mean. I wasn’t in a hurry to—” He started over, “I don’t want your office; all I ever said was I’d like to run an office eventually. I’m barely older than most of the people here.”

  “Well, then, back to the original question. How is it going?”

  “The office is a mess, and the staff is barely cooperative. This is the ultimate in pass or fail—either I straighten this o
ffice up, or I’m screwed. That wouldn’t be so bad if I had been given something to work with, but as it is…” Jonah took a deep breath, it was a long shot, but, “Did Carlisle mention to anyone that he was working on a case for the Teague Hotel?”

  “Not that I’m aware, but he didn’t report to me. You checked the files?”

  “I tried, but I’m not a code breaker. I can’t figure out his lack of organization.”

  “I can try tracking it down in the main database, but if he didn’t file it from his computer—”

  “It isn’t there, and I’m stuck with a ticked off client, because he apparently arranged for an investigation.” Jonah paused, tossing the idea around in his head. It wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion. “Carlisle promised to send Cole and Kaylyn Anderson.”

  The line went silent for a few seconds. “And what are you going to do?”

  “Give him what he wants, and keep a close eye on them. Has word of their most recent assignment reached you yet?”

  “No,” his father grumbled.

  “Oh, just wait. Kaylyn came back with half of her face banged up, the man they met with to get the artifact was just released from the hospital, and the artifact was delivered to the lab in a garbage bag after it was shattered in a scuffle. Should I go on?”

  “I think the better question is: should you be sending them out on assignment?”

  “I don’t have much of a choice.” The chair popped again under his shifting weight, and Jonah made a note to replace it with something sturdier before it decided to give way and dump him on his ass. “Hopefully, they’ll perform better with structure.”

  “And if not?”

  “I’m aware of what I have to do. But they had excellent reports from their training partners. The Council should have intervened with Carlisle long before it came to this. I feel like he intentionally left me with nothing to go on so I would look like a total clod. Even if Aicil realizes what’s going on, any clients we’re currently working with are going to wonder if I know what the hell I’m doing.”