Free The Guardian (Mended Souls Book 1) by Jacquie Biggar Page B

was still jittery from yesterday’s encounter or maybe it was a sixth sense; either way her feet fairly flew across the expanse. She didn’t draw a solid breath until she reached the front door of the office. Her heart was slow to settle back into place as she nodded her greetings to the security guard, receptionist, and some of the other lifers, as she liked to think of the longtime employees who liked to work the weekend, same as herself.
    By the time the elevator whisked her up to the fourth floor and she made her way to the lab, Tracy was feeling almost normal. That is until she stepped into the room and met the serious gazes of Scott Anderson and her boss, Gil.
    “Tracy. I believe you’ve met Mr. Anderson,” Gil said as Scott stepped forward, hand outstretched.
    So he was going to pretend she was merely an acquaintance, was he? Fine. Two could play that game.
    She ignored his hand and strode around him to place her briefcase on her desk. “Sorry I’m late, my car was… indisposed. I had to grab the bus.”
    “You should have called,” Scott said, and was echoed by Gil. The men glared at each other and Tracy’s temper soared.
    Men were Neanderthal idiots, every last one of them. And speaking of which…
    “Where’s Hank?” The man hadn’t called in sick once in all the time they’d worked together.
    Gil looked at Scot and then avoided her gaze, the two of them suddenly co-conspirators. Tracy’s stomach dropped.
    “What’s going on?” She wrapped her fingers around the back of the chair in a death grip. A helpless ache tightened her throat until she could barely croak. “Tell me.”
    Scott took a step then halted when Gil moved around the desk first. He grasped her icy fingers in his, and met her gaze with saddened gray eyes.
    “He’s dead, honey. Home invasion.”
----
    W hen Scott first arrived this morning after calling, Gil Davis, Tracy’s boss, had shown up to speak with him. He’d treated Scott with respect—not as the movie star—but as the lone survivor of a car accident, and he’d taken an immediate liking to the man.
    “I’m sorry for your loss. If there’s anything we can do…?” Gil asked and Scott shook his head. “I understand. Should you change your mind our doors are always open. Would you like to view the bodies now?”
    Scott flinched. His stomach churned.
    Now that the moment had arrived he was reluctant. Even though Lucas had paid him that extraordinary visit last night—then disappeared and left him thinking he was freaking crazy—the fact was both his friend and his sister’s remains lay on cold metal slabs somewhere in this building.
    “I think I’ll wait for Dr. York if you don’t mind.”
    “You know Tracy?” Gil asked, brushing a hand through his prematurely graying hair.
    “We’re… friends.” Scott didn’t know if she’d exactly agree with that assessment but they were more than mere acquaintances, especially after their kisses. The musky scent of her arousal and the sweet taste of her lips had embedded themselves in his memory.
    “Good, she’ll need her friends around her right now.”
    Scott frowned. Was he talking about the dog?
    “You heard then?” he asked.
    “Yeah, the police commissioner called me first thing this morning.”
    Not the dog then.
    “What happened?” Scott demanded.
    Gil looked at him askance. “I thought you knew. Tracy’s partner, Hank, was murdered last night during a home invasion.”
    What the hell?
    These attacks couldn’t be random. Something was going on and Scott intended on finding out what before he lost someone else he cared for.
    “What are you planning on doing about it?” Frustration and an unfamiliar helplessness rode him hard.
    Gil frowned and crossed his arms over his chest, crumpling his Hermes tie in the process. “I don’t know who you think you are, but we take care of our own around here.”
    “Yeah? That didn’t work out so well for Tracy’s partner, did it?” Scott slammed his hand down