Island Holiday (Brookwell Island #4)

Chapter 1

Damn it. Connor Brady managed to keep the oath in his head where it belonged. The office was mostly deserted this close to the holidays, but professionalism reigned regardless.

Of all his recent assignments, tracking Sonya Inman was a challenge. As a fellow Guardian Agency researcher, she’d been through a basic skills course for working in the field and knew enough to avoid being followed. Not that researchers typically expected to put those skills into action.

She’d been traveling non-stop since October. Now, two weeks before Christmas, she was back in South Carolina, but not where he expected her to be. Her usual pattern was to meet up with her two best friends, Harper Ellington and Hannah Lynch. The three women referred to each other as sisters and spent holidays with the Ellington family, usually at the resort on the Isle of Palms.

He’d visited the resort once, under the guise of a training session with the head of security, Bruce Ellington. Three days of sunshine, coastal views, luxury accommodations, and tourist fun had been enlightening. Running on a Carolina beach was a wildly different experience than running the shore of Lake Michigan in Chicago. His time there had reordered his list of favorite places and he vowed to spend time there more often.

Now might be the right time. Outside his office window, heavy gray clouds were gathering over the lake. Snow was on the way. The forecast indicated he might be stuck inside for a couple of days. He pulled up his phone and checked prices on last minute flights, wondering if he could turn a Charleston holiday into a work trip somehow.

During his visit, Connor had enjoyed the practical crash course on managing hotel security. Juggling employees, contractors, and the guests coming and going daily was a constant challenge that Bruce handled with an easygoing style backed with years of expertise. Connor admired people who applied themselves and their talents with excellence.

Bruce encouraged him to explore Charleston and the barrier islands and those outings gave Connor a better understanding of why Sonya felt secure in the area. More than proximity to her friends and the protective Ellington family, he figured she found comfort in the easygoing pace and open, smiling people.

One more reason her recent travels surprised him. Plus, she’d been flying frequently lately. He’d monitored her round trips out of Virginia, Iowa, Georgia, Texas, and the Carolinas.

The break in routine was a partial explanation for why his bosses asked him to keep tabs on her these past several weeks. The private security agency was managed by two attorneys who laid out clear rules about where and when to use company resources.

And they’d allocated money and manpower—him—to track her. They hadn’t given him much background intel beyond that and he hated to think they suspected her of any wrong-doing. Sonya was a superb forensic accountant with a never-give-up attitude. He’d enjoyed collaborating with her on assignments in the past.

Most of the time she traveled by car, staying for a week or two in vacation rentals before moving on. Rarely would she stay in one place for a full month. She seemed to like the anonymity of it. The freedom too, he suspected. They’d never discussed it the few times they’d worked together on agency cases. Why would it even come up? It was merely the assumption he made based on what he’d observed.

Her permanent address was the Ellington resort in South Carolina. She checked in there periodically, staying for a week or so before going on the road. Her paychecks were deposited directly to her bank account. Her car payment and a regular payment to a storage unit not far from the resort were her only consistent expenses.

He couldn’t relate to her wanderlust. Not really.

Although he was absolutely opposed to being restricted to one place, he needed roots. Needed the security of a home address. A place where he could retreat from the world on his own terms.

Blame his upbringing. Despite being cut off from his family now, those early-life values were deeply ingrained: integrity, purpose, character, and stability.

He took a deep breath around the ache in his chest. The holidays always left him wishing for the family reconciliation his parents refused to consider.

Maybe he should take a page out of Sonya’s playbook and move on.

He sent Sonya’s current location to his boss, Patrick Gamble, and resumed his other work. He wasn’t currently supporting anyone in the field, but there were always reports to run along with new technology for study and review.

Before long, he was checking on Sonya again. She was on Brookwell Island, a small barrier island town off the South Carolina coast. Catering to tourists, there were plenty of social media and security camera access points for him to use.

Arriving by car last night, she’d checked into the Inn, an historic hotel on the island, and was booked for three nights.

Connor sighed. If this was personal travel, she’d be at the Ellington. What was she up to?

The complete answer was above his pay grade, but he cared about her.

There was a time when she’d been used, hunted, and forced into hiding. Once the danger was handled, Sonya had been free to live her life. She’d chosen to stay generally off-the-grid and kept her social interactions limited to her two friends. Back then, Connor had found her—again at his boss’s request—several months after her case was closed.

Oh, he hadn’t been out there personally, but his skills led Gamble to Sonya’s location. A few weeks later, she was on the payroll. When it came to finances and tracking money, Sonya was exceptional and Gamble and Swann only recruited the best.

Sometimes the best had quirky habits. Like Sonya, who couldn’t seem to stay in one place. Or him, with his secrets and preference for the Chicago headquarters. And his habit of keeping an eye on her even when it wasn’t for an official task.

Everyone had issues.

They’d only interacted for work a few times and he wasn’t sure she remembered his name. Still, he felt a persistent, inexplicable connection to her. Something about her perpetual solitude resonated with him. Even from a distance, he felt like it mattered that he was in her corner. A friend she didn’t know, but could count on anyway.

He didn’t believe she was doing anything illegal, not after everything she’d survived. Hell, the bosses, Gamble and Swann, wouldn’t stand for it.

Maybe she was working undercover. That was definitely a possibility. He didn’t want her persistent isolation to get her in trouble. Because for all that he watched from a distance, with no solid intel as she crisscrossed the country, deep down he felt as if she was searching for something.

Revenge? Justice? A sense of purpose?

He understood that last one. The answer was irrelevant to Connor. He only wanted her to be safe.

An alert popped up in the corner of his secondary monitor. Gamble wanted to see him immediately. He turned off his monitors, locked his computer, and headed upstairs. He probably shouldn’t be hoping the summons had anything to do with Sonya, but he couldn’t turn it off either.

It was Christmas after all, and the season of miracles.