By Honor Bound Read online

  Kieran Lassiter narrowed a gaze on the two men. “Outside to the hoops, the two of you.”

  “We weren’t…” Cameron started to speak, then caught the blaze of fire in the old man’s eyes.

  Bren chuckled. “You’d think the two of them would grow up, Pop.”

  “Grow up, is it?” Cam glowered at his sister. “Seems to me you were the one to start all this with that smart-aleck remark.”

  “All I said was your date looked like a tart.”

  “Mary Brendan.” Kate Lassiter always reverted to her daughter’s full name whenever she was shocked or annoyed.

  Cam was angry enough to spit nails. “You take that back, Bren, or I’ll…”

  “All right.” Kieran Lassiter’s eyes had turned to ice-blue chips. His voice, which always carried a hint of a brogue, thickened with anger. “I said take it outside to the hoops. All three of you.”

  “But I—” Bren started to argue, then, seeing her mother’s look, clamped her mouth shut and followed her two brothers out the back door.

  As Micah picked up the basketball and started dribbling, she and Cam circled him.

  Under her breath Bren muttered, “Almost thirty, and still being sent outside to work off my aggression. When does it end?”

  “Probably when the next generation of Lassiters comes along, and it’s our turn to give the orders.” Micah easily broke away from their defense and made a basket before tossing it to his sister.

  As he and Cam were circling her, the door opened and Kieran shouted, “Micah. Somebody here to see you.”

  “Tell them he’s busy doing his punishment,” Cam called as he slapped the ball out of his sister’s hand and ran up for a layup.

  The old man’s voice sharpened. “The man says it’s business, Micah. I don’t think you want to keep him waiting.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” Micah caught the ball as it slipped through the hoop, then tossed it to his sister. “This time hold on to it and play like a guy.”

  “That’s the only way I know how to play.” She gave him a shove as he walked away, then turned to fend off Cam’s advance.

  On his way inside, Micah picked up a towel and mopped at his face before walking through the kitchen to the great room, where two men were standing just inside the door.

  “Micah Lassiter?” A tall, rangy man dressed casually in a golf shirt and slacks strode across the room and stuck out his hand. “Allen Street.”

  “Mr. Street.”

  “I prefer Allen.”

  “Allen.” Micah was taken aback by the casual clothing and the casual greeting.

  Allen Street was one of the wealthiest men in the country. A surprisingly boyish-looking electronics whiz who had created the most successful computer software company in the world. He’d phoned earlier, requesting this meeting. When Micah had suggested going to his office in Bethesda, Allen Street had refused, requesting a more informal setting, where he wouldn’t be recognized. When he’d also refused to meet at Micah’s home just down the block, Micah realized that Street was taking no chances on being videotaped or recorded. He was known as a reclusive man who resisted the public eye. This place seemed a safe middle ground in which to meet. Especially since he’d arrived more than two hours earlier than planned.

  Street turned to include the other man. “I believe you know Will Harding.”

  “Will, good to see you again.” Micah offered his hand to his old friend. “I heard you’d left the government service to take a private security job. Until now, I didn’t know where.”

  The man gave a slow easy grin. “Looks like it happens to all of us eventually. Allen made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

  Micah pointed to a sofa and a pair of chairs set before a fireplace. “Why don’t you two make yourselves comfortable. Coffee?”

  “No, thanks.” Allen Street dropped a thick manila folder into Micah’s hand before settling himself in the chair. “I’d like you to take a look at these.”

  Micah opened the folder to reveal a packet of letters and e-mails. He picked up the first and read in silence. Then he read a second and third before looking up. “It’s pretty obvious that these three are from the same writer. How about the rest?”

  Street turned to Harding. “As far as we can determine, they’re all from the same hand.”

  Micah tapped a finger on the page. “From the little I read, he seems to believe that the software package that came with his computer was programmed to spy on him. Is that about right?”

  Street nodded. “He’s convinced that his soft ware is sending back intimate information about him to my company, and to me, personally. He claims to have been fired from a string of jobs because I fed his employers personal information about him. As you can imagine, in my line of work I’ve had to deal with a lot of crank letters. But my security team feels that this guy is different from all the rest. For one thing he’s brilliant. Smart enough to break through my private computer code while concealing his identity. And from the tone of those letters and e-mails, he’s definitely unbalanced and dangerous. He comes across as a man obsessed.”

  Micah nodded. “That sounds about right.” He leaned back. “So why are you here? What makes you think I can do something more than your own security team?”

  “I have the best minds in the business working on tracking him. I have no doubt we’ll eventually be successful. I’ve already arranged for around-the-clock security at my home in Seattle. My daughter is another matter, however. She’s a graduate student in Georgetown. What I’d like to do is put her in a glass bubble and lock her away in a vault. But since she refuses to cooperate, I’ve decided on the next best thing. Until we can find this person and put my fears to rest, I want some one around her night and day to see that she’s kept safe.”

  Street leaned forward. The round glasses gave him an owlish appearance. His red-brown hair showed not a trace of gray. But his boyish looks were deceiving. Though he was known to be clear-headed and calm under fire from his competitors, at the moment it was obvious to Micah that this man was agitated and deeply troubled. And absolutely determined to protect his turf.

  “Will tells me that you’re the best in the business, Lassiter. Naturally I had you investigated thoroughly before coming here.”

  If he’d hoped to catch Micah by surprise, he was disappointed. Micah smiled. “I’d expect no less. What did you find?”

  “That you ranked highest in every area of the Secret Service.” Street studied the man before him in the stained sweats. The body had been honed like a fine weapon. And the eyes seemed warm and friendly until you looked beneath the surface and saw the way they locked on a target like a laser. This was a man you didn’t want to cross.

  His voice lowered. “You deliberately took a bullet meant for the president. That isn’t something just any man can do, Lassiter.”

  “It is if you’re part of the Secret Service. That’s our job. Ask Will here.”

  “Believe me, I have asked Will.”

  When he’d asked Will Harding to describe Micah Lassiter in one word, that word had been lethal. Micah had a reputation for finishing whatever he started, even if it meant facing down death.

  “Your record shows that you went above and beyond duty, Lassiter. That injury forced you to give up the work you’d trained and sweated for. But instead of taking your disability pay and nursing your wounds, you started your own security company.” He saw Micah open his mouth and lifted a hand to stop him. “A security company which is, by all accounts, after just a year in operation, considered the best there is. I know, too, that the kind of courage you displayed runs in your family. Over twenty years ago your father took a bullet meant for his partner.”

  He saw a quick look come and go in Micah’s eyes and realized the pain of that loss was as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. “That tells me something about the integrity of the man I’m hoping to hire to protect my most precious treasure.” He pushed at his glasses, magnifying the intensity of his gaze. “And make n
o mistake, Lassiter. My daughter, Prudence, is very dear to me. I’ll do whatever it takes, pay whatever it costs, to keep her safe until this madman is caught and put away.”

  He sat back and rested his hands on his knees. “Will you take the job?”

  Micah glanced at the pile of letters. “I’ll want to read through all of these. Are they originals or copies?”

  “Copies. The originals are with the FBI.”

  Micah nodded. “If the rest are as twisted as these, I’d say you’re very wise to involve the FBI.” He folded his hands atop the letters. “I’d be happy to assign an operative to tag along with your daughter until this is cleaned up.”

  Street was already shaking his head. “You don’t understand. I don’t want one of your operatives. I want you, Lassiter.”

  “That’s very flattering, Allen, but I have an agency to run.”

  Street fixed him with a steely look. “You’re the only one I’m willing to trust with my daughter’s life.”

  Micah thought about all the reasons why he should refuse. But he recognized the desperation in this man’s eyes and thought about his own family. If this were about his grandfather, his mother, his sister or brothers, he’d move heaven and earth to keep them safe.

  He let out a quiet sigh. “All right. I’ll see to her myself.”

  “Excellent.” Street reached into his pocket and produced a slip of paper. “This is where Prudence lives. I’ll expect you to get to work immediately. The clock starts ticking now.”

  Micah accepted the paper, idly noting the exclusive address in Georgetown. “Consider it done.”

  “There’s just one thing.” Street was regarding him carefully. “You’ll have to protect my daughter without her knowledge.”

  Micah looked at the man as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “What possible reason could you have for not warning her about the danger she might be facing?”

  “Living with the sort of notoriety my success has produced can be a difficult thing for a child. Especially one as painfully shy as Prudence. I’m sure it was aggravated by the fact that her mother died when Prudence was only three. I may have been a bit overly protective, but it was for her own good. At any rate, she insisted on moving as far away from home as possible while working on her degree. She seems to have found a certain amount of joy in being anonymous. If she thought I’d hired a bodyguard, she’d be furious with me.”

  “She has a right to know about the danger.”

  Street nodded. “And she will. When and if it’s considered necessary for her safety. But for now, I don’t want to alienate her any more than necessary. She’s determined to live her life without re straint.” He got to his feet and stuck out his hand. “Is it a deal, Lassiter?”

  Micah gave a reluctant nod. “It’s a deal, Allen. I’ll do my best.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  As Street started to relax, Micah’s tone hardened. “But make no mistake. If I feel your daughter is in harm’s way, I’ll demand that you tell her the truth. If you don’t, I will.”

  “You have my word on it.” Street handed him a check. “This should get you started.”

  When he and Will Harding were gone, Micah studied the amount of the check and gave a low rumble of laughter.

  As he pushed open the kitchen door he found his entire family, including his mother, making an effort to look busy.

  “I suppose—” he paused to dip a hand in the bowl of strawberries “—you’re all going to pretend that you weren’t standing with your ears pressed to the door so you could overhear all that?”

  “All what?” Kate Lassiter was busy slicing bread.

  “Don’t try to look innocent, Katie girl.” He gave a fine imitation of his grandfather’s brogue. “My business arrangement with Harold Street.”

  “Allen Street,” Kieran Lassiter corrected. “And he doesn’t look like a millionaire to me.”

  At that the others burst into laughter. “Micah got you this time, Pop.”

  Kieran glowered at his grandson. “So we were listening at the door.” He added with a trace of pride, “There isn’t much that gets by the Lassiter family.”

  Bren stepped closer. “So, how much was the check?”

  Micah merely smiled and tucked the slip of paper in his pocket. “Let’s just say it’s enough to set me up in high style. Or enough to run off and buy myself a small country if I were so inclined.”

  “You aren’t going to tell us?” Cam gave him a punch to the shoulder that had him spinning backward.

  Micah turned around with both fists raised.

  That was all their grandfather needed. “You’ll take it out to the hoops until it’s time for dinner.”

  As Micah and Cameron headed outside, Micah muttered, “I wonder if Pop would send Allen Street out back to work off his aggression?”

  “Probably.” Cam grinned. “And then for good measure he’d have him donating a fortune to the police retirement fund.”

  Chapter 2

  “Ah. Here you are, my boy.” A dapper gentleman in a navy blazer and crisp gray slacks looked up from the small cluster of people gathered around him and turned to Micah with a smile. “I was just telling my neighbors how lucky I was that you happened by when you did. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.” He indicated the well-dressed couple to his left. “Randall and Helena Crispin, I’d like you to meet Micah Lassiter. Years ago, when Micah was in my class at Georgetown, he was my brightest student.”

  “Randall. Helena.” Micah already knew all about them. As well as everyone else in this build ing. This was Randall’s second marriage. His first, when he’d been in college, had lasted less than a year. He and Helena had been married for seventeen years now, and both worked for the State Department. Their records, which Micah had gone over with two of his operatives, were spotless.

  “And these,” the professor said with a smile, “are Octavia and Odelia Vandevere.”

  Micah had been looking forward to meeting these two elderly sisters. Their father had been a lawyer, and later a federal judge, who had amassed a fortune before his death. Though neither of his daughters ever married, they had been, sixty years ago, considered two of the most beautiful and eligible young socialites in the city. And though some might consider them a bit eccentric, Micah could find no reason to worry about their presence in the building, except as professional busybodies.

  Micah offered a handshake to each of them. “Miss Vandevere. And Miss Vandevere.”

  Octavia, older by a year, touched her hand to her heart. “Oh my, Odelia. What a handsome, charming addition to our little family.” She turned to include the young woman who held herself slightly apart from the others. “Wouldn’t you agree, Prudence, dear?”

  The young woman standing to one side turned several shades of pink.

  Ignoring her young friend’s embarrassment, the older woman couldn’t resist pressing a bit more. “Micah Lassiter, do you have a wife and children?”

  “No, ma’am. No wife and no children.”

  “Any angry ex’s lurking in the bushes?”

  He laughed. “No, ma’am. I’m an avowed bachelor.”

  “Well, now. Isn’t that interesting, Odelia?”

  Before the professor could finish the introductions, the two Vandevere sisters had completely taken over. “Come, Prudence, dear. Meet our new neighbor. Micah Lassiter, this is Prudence Street. Mr. Lassiter, if there’s anything at all you want to know about the neighborhood, Prudence here is the one to ask. Isn’t that right, Odelia?”

  “Oh, indeed.” Odelia’s voice was as wispy as a child’s. “Our Prudence is just the smartest little thing. Out and about every day. Walking. Driving her fancy little car. She knows just about everything.”

  “Is that so?” Micah turned to her with a smile. And though he’d had plenty of time to study photographs of Prudence Street, from infancy to her college graduation, the photos hadn’t done her justice. He wasn’t prepared for the pretty young woman w
ith the small, heart-shaped face, amber eyes and windblown honey hair. Her cheeks were gloriously pink, as though she’d just come in from a brisk walk in the spring breeze. The tailored linen slacks and shirt were the color of ripe strawberries. Though her smile was shy, her handshake was firm enough.

  “Mr. Lassiter.”

  “I prefer Micah. Do they call you Prudence or Pru?”

  “Her friends call her Pru.” Octavia wasn’t about to allow her young friend’s shyness to get in the way of a possible friendship or, even better, a possible romance. The wheels were already turning.

  Pru lowered her gaze. But not before taking note of laughing blue eyes and a ruggedly handsome face. During their handshake she’d absorbed a jolt, and blamed it on the fact that she’d been caught unaware. Her hand was actually tingling from the brief contact with this man’s. She hadn’t expected to meet her new neighbor when she agreed to join the others in bidding the professor goodbye.

  She turned toward her old neighbor. “Have a wonderful time in Europe, Professor Loring. I’ll look forward to your many tales of adventure when you return.”

  “Not too many adventures at my age, I should hope.” He gave a booming laugh. “But having this offer come right out of the blue is adventure enough. Here I thought I’d be spending a quiet summer in my garden with you, my dear.” He squeezed Pru’s hand. “I hope you’ll keep all my blooms in good health until I’m able to see them in September.”

  “You can count on it, Professor Loring.”

  The old man handed Micah a set of keys. “This small one is the security key, to get in the front door of the building. This larger one opens the door of my apartment. I’m so grateful to you for offering to take over this place, Micah. Now I won’t have to worry about a thing while I’m gone.”

  Micah was listening with only half his mind. His eyes narrowed on Pru Street as she seemed to shrink from the others. It would appear that, though she’d boldly fled the confines of her father’s mansion in Seattle, she hadn’t completely shed her shyness. “I’m happy to do it, Professor.”