CHAPTER1
JACKSON
“She’s a witch,”my sister exclaims. “And she hexed my chicken and that’s why it won’t lay eggs. You have to investigate her.”
“I can’t run a background check on a random citizen, Marly.”
“Why not? That’s your job.”
My chief of staff, Todd Stevens, walks in and taps his watch. It’s time to go.
“I do corporate security. Are you a business owner with assets of over ten million that need secured?” I stand up and shrug on my coat, trying to keep the phone to my ear. A Bluetooth headset appears in front of my face.Thanks,I mouth to Todd.
“What corporate event was going on when you did background checks on all my boyfriends?”
“You’re my business worth over ten million that needed to be secured.” Marly is my only family. Our parents died when I was seventeen and Marly was twelve. I practically raised her. The hell I would let some random filthy male lay his hands on her.
“Your asset is in danger!” she cries. “That’s what I’m telling you. My chicken hasn’t laid an egg since the woman moved in. I know she went out and cursed it. I tried to find like the spell material or whatever, but I couldn’t, so now I’m turning to you, my big brother, who said he’d always be there for me.”
“Have you called the vet?”
“What’s the vet going to do? He’s not a witch.”
Todd waves me into the elevator. “Marly, I’ll look into your neighbor, but you have to call the vet. Okay?”
She heaves out a big sigh before agreeing. “But if you find out she’s a witch, I’m going to need more than a vet.”
What that means, I’m not sure, but I figure I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. I hang up and give Todd a chin nod. “You hear all that?”
He nods. “I looked up Marly’s address. She has two neighbors flanking her and then several houses across the street. Most of them are families, but the home to the right and the one across the street and down are registered to solo individuals.”
“I’ll check them out after the meeting.” I tuck the extra phone away. In the conference room, the translators are already greeting each other. This project is for a company out of Vietnam who are making semiconductors for a famous fruit brand tech company. They’ve suffered a series of high-profile leaks and have hired us to come in and snuff those out.
The meeting lasts several hours, but by the end, we get all the issues worked through. I get to my feet, bow to the company execs on the other side of the world and take off for the car park. Four hours later and one big contract signed, I am on my way to Marly’s. I park a little ways down the street and cross over to the first house. A man opens the door.
I turn to their owner and thrust out my hand. “I’m Jackson Knight, Marly’s brother. She lives in the blue house across the street. She said her hen was having trouble laying eggs, and I wondered if you would know anything about that.”
“She has chickens?” This comes from another voice deeper into the house. Slippers glide across the wood floor and end with another man appearing over the left shoulder of the owner.
“Hey, babe,” says the owner, whose hand comes up to cover his boyfriend’s. “This man is Marly Knight's brother. Says her hen has been having trouble with the egg laying business.”
The newcomer, wearing a yellow brocade vest, pushes his partner to the side. He takes my hand and pumps it enthusiastically. “My, you’re so handsome. Even though I’m committed to Mr. Grumpy over there”—he thumbs toward his partner—“I can appreciate a good piece of meat, and honey, you are a choice piece.”
“It’s Prime,” interjects the partner.
“What?” The greeter blinks his eyes in confusion.
“If you think he’s really fine, then he’s Prime. Choice is the lower quality,” the partner explains.
Mr. Brocade snaps his fingers. “Gotcha. Okay, Prime Beef. We have not seen your sister’s chickens, but tell her we will take any fresh eggs she has left over. I love fresh eggs. The yolks are richer, and the egg whites actually have flavor.”
“That’s salt,” says the partner.
Mr. Brocade rolls his eyes. Since these two didn’t even know that Marly had chickens, I’m crossing them off my suspect list.
“I’ll let her know.”
On the front porch of house number two situated next door to Marly’s place, I ring the doorbell. I knock. I peer through the front window. There’s no answer. I’m about to leave when the door opens a tiny crack. “Yes?” comes a suspicious voice.