Page 8 of Donovan's Men

My stomach did a little flip. I doubted he was checking me out. With my plain-brown eyes and close-cropped steel-gray hair, I wasn’t anything to look at. In fact, thanks to the hair, I looked older than I was. My hair had turned gray when I was in my early twenties and had been the bane of my existence ever since. Except I was too lazy to dye it or anything like that.

“I’ll try to remember more.” He held out his left hand.

I shook it. And probably lingered a moment or two longer on the solid grip with the callused fingers. “We appreciate it.”

Donovan nodded and headed out.

Mariah sighed. “This is getting us nowhere.”

“We still have Julie Reyes to speak to.” I doubted she’d offer up anything more substantive, but we had to try. “And we should see how Hamilton’s doing and when we might be able to talk to him.”

“Yeah. Shame about all this.” She pulled out her phone and started scrolling.

I reviewed my notes before heading out to ask Julie to speak to us.

Chapter Two

Hamish

Mornings were truly my favorite time of day—the quiet before the inevitable storm. Especially when the sun rose, painting the sky with pinks, purples, and sometimes even a fire-sky red.

My condo sat on the northeast corner of my building with a stunning view of the city to the east and the North Shore Mountains to the north—especially with the dawn.

Okay…except I loved sunsets as well. I’d have to go out to my balcony to look west, but often the sky painted the trees and mountains across the water with a beautiful pink-orange color that defied description.

Or at least, I never found the words to do the tableau justice.

This winter morning, however, with the outside shrouded in darkness, I huddled inside at my kitchen table. Morning wouldn’t come until well after seven, and I needed to be on the road by then.

My laptop sat open, and I perused all the news sites as I ate my raisin oatmeal breakfast.

As the lead psychologist at Johnson Employee Assistance Program, I faced a tough day ahead. Yesterday, my company had been contacted by one of our bigger clients—a movie studio in North Vancouver. Because of an on-set shooting no less. We specialized in dealing with trauma after workplace violence, so my bosses, Smith and Alessandra, mobilized us, and we got the lay of the land yesterday and were meeting with cast and crew fromVigilante Justicethis morning.

I checked the Vancouver news website—to ensure I knew everything that was in the public sphere. That knowledge would support the report Alessandra sent me last night.

I rose, put my dishes in the dishwasher, and packed my messenger bag. I put on my winter coat, and after ensuring the condo was perfect—I might’ve been a little anal about such things—I headed down to my car.

The drive was short, and when I pulled up to the studio gate, a guard scrutinized my driver’s license and then handed me a visitor badge.

“Sorry, can’t be too careful.” She eyed me.

“I understand. I have a teammate arriving—”

“She the one with the dog?”

“Uh, yes.”

The woman pointed to her clipboard. “Already on the list. Park over there”—she gestured—“and someone will be out shortly.”

When I pulled my car beside Marianne’s, she lowered the back windows so Ollie could glance out. He woofed his obvious joy. He would calm down once Marianne attached the vest, but for now he was just a goofy Labrador.

In deference to the cold, we rolled our windows back up. I barely had time to check my phone before two men appeared from the building and waved to us.

A study in contrasts, each man struck me differently. The tall gentleman wore a tailored suit with pleated wool pants. He hit well over six feet tall, had blond hair, and blue eyes? I couldn’t tell from this distance.

The shorter man had a mop of red hair, wore jeans and a Henley—both in black—and had a tentative smile. A contrast to the other man whose smile was measured but also of a higher intensity. Although I was closer in age to the taller man, I favored the coloring of the younger—what with the red hair.

My crew, including Ian, Hala, and Marianne, all exited our cars. Marianne took a moment to attach Ollie’s leash.