I get a visual of what he's like in the field. Pointing to Dax, Caden tasks him with speaking with Astra. Bear and Garrison are to plot out the minute details of their Bamyan missions-anything to help him narrow down Marik's base camp. With a teasing smirk, he commands Maisie and me to scour the web for anything related to Lockman. Using her own laptop, Maisie starts while I retreat with JT to his room. After a breathing treatment and lunch, he settles in for his nap, and I join her at the counter to get to business, only to quickly realize it's hard to find dirt on a millionaire.
But then there is Caden.
Tall, brooding, decadent, playful Caden Lawless.
If a man can be all things, he's mastered the possibility. He drives me crazy with a lazy drag of his hand across my back, a quick brush of his lips to my cheek or forehead, so faint I wonder if they ever really happened.
All the while he fights on the phone with the VA. The runaround is what he gets from them for an hour. His medical records are lost in transition somewhere in the cyber world. And Lockman is squeaky clean-at least that's what is reported by the press.
A pillar of society, Morgan Lockman pledges his time to underprivileged communities, funding scholastic programs, and parks. But he does it all with slicked back hair and a smarmy smile. I just know he's up to no good. I feel it in my gut. After an hour, I puff out a long breath. There has to be a better way. We won't come up with a link to illegal arms trading on the internet, not on a man with a company vying for a government contract that would catapult him into a new stratosphere of power and wealth. Insider information is the only way to go.
And I know exactly where to get it. My heart falls as I pick up my phone.
"Who're you calling, pidge?" Maisie asks while clicking on another link.
"My mother."
Her fingers stall over the keys. As the weight of her stare burns into me, I push away from my seat. Helping Caden is more important than the burning animosity I feel toward the people who raised me.
Keeping my head down, I walk through the family room to the large picture windows. Dax and Cara lucked out on their wedding day. The sun seared through morning haze and lit the sky into a bright blue.
My breath catches on the fourth ring, and then stumbles at the click of connection.
"Stevens residence." The voice is English, from north London, and after a year of absence the soft, slick lilt tugs me back to empty rooms and a lost heart. Sadness washes over me. It can't be helped. Growing up in that home taught me money doesn't buy happiness, but Barkley and Mrs. Helen were a bright spot amongst all the mahogany and antiques.
"Barkley. It's Piper."
"Piper. Bless me, it's good to hear your voice. And it's been too long at that."
A smile pulls at my lips. "It has been, and I'm sorry. I promise to call you more often." Nostalgia tightens my throat as we catch up on a year. William Barkley and his wife, Helen, were better parents to me than my own. He taught me how to ride a bike, and she was my Barbie playmate when all I had was stuffed animals and my imagination. Mrs. Helen died six months before I came to Lilyfalls, and now William's all who's left to ensure Margaret and Sylas stay in their respective corners.
With a promise to call again soon, I ask to speak to my father, knowing he'll be at the office but hoping Barkley will confirm it.
"He's out of town for a few days, Miss Piper, but your mother is in. Let me put her on for you."
Perfect. Loose lips sink ships and given the time of day, Margaret Stevens will be knee-deep in gin. Before I can ask how many martinis Mommy dearest had during her one o'clock cocktail hour, she's on the line.
I brace myself for her greeting, my shoulders tensing at her curt "Yes?"
"Mother, it's Piper."
Her pause is long. I squirm, just like I did when I was five, remembering what it was like when she'd glare down her nose and burn me with her stare. The woman knows a good bit about looks that kill. But I survived. Better than survived-I've got a new life in Lilyfalls, and I'm going to help my man find his dad.
My man? Damn, I forget how to breathe. My forehead thunks against the thick glass, cool under my skin. After a stuttered heartbeat, I smile. He is. Caden is mine. Worry about timing, Justin, and loving two men flies away like the bird at my childhood window.
My spine straightens of its own accord. Donning the imagined body armor I wore as a kid, I try again. "How are you?"
"What is it you need, Piper?" Mother's voice has a practiced crispness I watched her perfect as one cocktail led to another. And another. This is a good time to chat.