Chase: The Secret Billionaire Society

Prologue

“Mr. Chase Young?” a voice said over the speakers.

“Yes.” I held up my hand, feeling like I was back in grade school and the teacher was taking attendance. I inhaled and slowly let it out. We were six stupid sons of bitches. What were we thinking? But, here we were, too late now.

The man behind the mirror. We’d never met him. We didn’t know what he looked like. Yet, we’d agreed to put our lives in his hands and trust him.

We only knew his name—Mr. Smith. He was now in charge of us, the Secret Billionaire Society, which started as a joke in college. Funny, but if truth be told, each of us made the Forbes Top100 list at one time or another in the past decade.

We’d known each other since college, a collection of guys from all parts of the country who immediately clicked. Since then, we had been a tight group, celebrating our birthdays on one chosen day each year. No matter where we were or what we’d been doing, we dropped everything and showed up at the designated time and place.

We had hired Mr. Smith, sight unseen, during a drunken thirtieth birthday party. Someone, no make that all of us, had an epiphany at the end of the night. The time had come to drop our partying ways, get off Page Six and start contributing to society. Heard it before? So had we. Perhaps the alcohol consumed during the night muddled our brains, but we thought we had the answer to world peace by the time we finished.

To some extent, we were familiar faces to the public and did not want to be recognized, especially if we failed. We needed to blend into the general population. The idea of a middleman came to the six of us during the last toast of the evening. We joked it could be like Mission Impossible. The movie team never saw or knew the person who gave their assignments. Then boom! It was like lightning had struck us. We laughed, slapped each other on the back and the idea was born. We needed a guy similar to Mission Impossible to help us achieve world peace.

Beau, the most tech savvy of us, dove into his computer, searching for help. He made a few phone calls, put the last one on speaker, and we interviewed the man or woman on the spot. Yeah, he had a man’s voice, but could have used a device to disguise it. Maybe Mr. Smith didn’t want us to know who he was either.

After many hours of discussion, the billionaires were satisfied with his answers and told Mr. Smith he was hired. Funny thing, he didn’t want to be paid. He said he had his own altruistic motives and liked our idea. He wanted to be part of the team. But. There was always a but in negotiations, right? Something had to be at stake, otherwise we could easily back out. Fine, we said, and agreed to his terms. Mr. Smith would receive all we owned if we did not follow through with the assignments. Maybe he didn’t have selfless goals after all, but we didn’t want to quit. We wouldn’t give up and knew we could accomplish anything we set our minds to. Hell, at five in the morning nothing sounded impossible.

We were instructed to put together dossiers. A special phone would be sent to each of us and when the flash drives were loaded and ready, we were to type a code into the cell. Once sent, a date and time came back with a password to use with the courier. He’d come to our house to pick up the memory stick and deliver it to Mr. Smith. The phone would then self-destruct. He’d thought of everything.

Once the documents were in Smith’s hands, he’d know everything about us. The only thing we asked was to give us separate assignments. After receiving and reading our bios, instructions would be sent by courier. Mr. Smith took no chances and didn’t want us to use our cell phones, email, texts, or any technical means of communication. Eventually, we’d have private phones to contact him.

We’d now been summoned into what I can only describe as an interrogation room, as seen on TV, to wait for Mr. Smith. In all the shows, the cops and detectives stood on one side watching through a one-way mirror, while the perp was questioned on the other. Our mentor had requested the room and would not start the missions until construction was complete.

A trusted contractor built the place, a two-room soundproof dwelling, on my property. Mr. Smith could slip into a special entrance directly connected to the darkened side of the one-way mirror room without being seen. The outer waiting room was the typical man cave with a huge TV screen mounted on one wall. Loungers, a bar with comfort food, and the latest tech gear filled the rest of the room.

When we got word Mr. Smith had arrived in a limo with darkened windows, we began to fidget in our seats. Shit. What had we gotten into? But we’d all signed a binding contract. Our assets had been put in a trust, and we wouldn’t get our fortunes back until all six of us completed our assignments. I scratched the side of my jaw, a nervous habit which gave away what I was thinking, my tell, making me very bad at poker. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of my cheek, and I swiped at it, chastising myself. I had nothing to fear. I could do this.

Someone cleared their throat. I stared at my buddies, wondering which one did it. We had the habit of taking things too far, and I waited for another to clear his throat. Nothing happened. Instead, nervous energy flowed through the room, and I was struck by the seriousness of my friends. Here we sat, my five buddies and me, waiting for instructions from the man behind the mirror.

“Mr. Young?” the voice called to me again.

Chapter One

Grace Edison sat behind her desk at Falcon Airlines shuffling the papers in front of her. She didn’t want to look at last month’s numbers which had been consistently falling since the beginning of the year. Her father built the airline, and damn her brothers, she was determined it would still succeed. They could care less if they inherited the airline or took over one day after their dad worked hard to achieve his dream. Her older siblings flew for Falcon but knew they could get jobs anywhere, anytime at more pay.

Someone cleared their throat at her open doorway, startling Grace. She fought for composure and looked away from her computer to see who’d come for a visit. The banker? He may be here to call in their loan. Breathe and smile. A flight attendant? She tried to solve their problems as quickly as possible and gave competitive pay, yet once a month someone seemed to find a better job. Game face.

“Oh.” Grace studied the man leaning against the doorway. She looked into his smoldering dark eyes, and if he used them the right way, they would cause her to slip right out of her clothes. He had brunette hair, carefully styled, short on the sides, swept back to one side on top. The close-trimmed beard caused her to internally shudder. Grace loved a man with a beard.

She stood and said, “What can I do to help you?”

The man walking toward her was an inch or two over six feet, causing her to tilt her head. “Hello,” he said in a charming voice and extended his hand in greeting. “My name is Chase … Garrett. I’m one of your new pilots.”

Grace shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not. We didn’t hire any new pilots.”

“This is Falcon Airlines, if I’m not mistaken. I was told to meet with Grace Edison, Vice President of Operations.” Chase slipped his phone from his pocket, flipped through a few screens and produced an email signed by her father, Paul Edison.

Grace bit into her bottom lip as she studied the screen. “Must be some kind of mistake.” She didn’t want to make eye contact again, throw away all common sense and hire him on the spot.

“Is he here?”

“Who?”

Chase lightly brushed her hand as he took his phone back causing a chill down her spine. “Paul Edison.” He pointed over his shoulder. “From the sign on the door, you’re Grace Edison, either his daughter or daughter-in-law.”

“Daughter.”

“If that’s your job position, he trusts you.”

“Are you questioning why I have the job, Mr. Garrett? Because I’m a woman or his daughter or both?” Grace felt a fire in her belly. Why did she always have to defend the right to her job?

“No, because you are so young.” Chase lifted his eyes, connecting to hers.

Grace thought she saw an apology in them, and the look made her stomach flip. “It’s fine. Happens all the time.” She clamped her mouth closed. Why did I say that? Too much information. I am not daddy’s little girl who couldn’t get a job. I have a business degree! Now he won’t take me seriously.

“Do I report to you for assignments?”

“What did you not understand, Mr. Garrett?” Grace fumed. “You are not a pilot for Falcon Airlines. We did not hire you.”

“Please, call me Chase.”

Paul Edison, looking fit and tan, popped his head in the door. “Grace? You’ve met our new pilot, Chase Garrett?” He gestured to Chase.

“Dad, may I speak with you … alone?”

“I’ll wait there.” Chase cocked his head toward the outer waiting area and left.

“What were you thinking, Dad?” Grace ran her hand through her hair, pushing a blonde lock from her face. “We don’t have the money to hire another pilot.”

“How are we ever going to expand and grow, Dumpling?”

“Dad!”

“Fine, I forgot. No dumpling comments at work.” Paul smiled, and Grace’s heart melted. He looked younger than his fifty-eight years, and despite her stepmom asking for a divorce three years ago, her dad maintained a good outlook on life.

“You work out today?”

“Before I came … heh! You’re changing the subject.” Paul lifted a forefinger and shook it at her, laughing. “You were always good at that. I thought it was supposed to be the other way around. Parents distract children when they’re naughty.”

“And you were naughty, Dad! You should have asked me first before you hired a pilot.”

“We need one more pilot, Gracie. We’re starting the Miami route this week.” Paul sank into the chair in front of Grace’s desk. “Sit, please. Let’s discuss.”

“Coffee?” Grace didn’t feel like sitting. Her hands were shaking, and she was torn between letting her dad have his way or making a stand. But, if she gave in, she’d have to suffer every day looking at Chase Garrett’s handsome face. “It wouldn’t be so bad.”

“What wouldn’t be so bad?” Paul asked.

Did I say that aloud? “Hiring one more pilot.” Grace handed him a mug of steaming black coffee. “But, that’s it.”

“I promise.” Paul leaned back in the chair, sipped his coffee and placed it on the desk. “You know when I started this company, I only had two planes. The administrators at Charlotte Douglas scoffed at me and said I’d never get one of their gates. So, I flew out of Wilgrove Air Park when you were eight years old. Ten years later, I had them eating their words. My little start-up airline, as they called it, had a following. I carved out a specific market and catered to a certain group of people. Low costs, on time and friendly service. I added more cities along the east coast each year. They offered me a section of one terminal.”

“I know, Dad, I was there.”

“Then I don’t need to remind you how important this is to me. Investors like to see a profit, Grace. We haven’t given them one this year, and I don’t understand why.”

“You finally said something I can agree on, Dad. I’ve gone over and over these numbers, and they don’t make sense.”

“Chase Garrett comes with superb credentials, and he’s a handsome guy. Maybe we should use him in our ads. It might help the bottom line.”

“Oh, so we’re back to him again.” Grace refrained from rolling her eyes. She managed to give her dad a humorous smirk. “I thought I told you he was hired.”

“Just making sure, darlin’.” Paul stood and stretched. “I want Chase to fly the new Miami route. Orlando and Tampa have been good to us. I want to make a good impression on the execs at Dade.”

“On your way out, send him in. I’ll give him instructions then send him to personnel to fill out the forms.” Grace looked at her dad who grinned from ear to ear. “What?”

“He’s good-looking, right?” Paul nodded his head. “Be open to new possibilities, Dumpling.”

Grace searched for something harmless she could throw, but Paul slipped through the door before she got a chance. She sat back in her seat with a huff and spun away from the door. Tears had filled her eyes, and she needed to gain her composure before Chase returned. “Open to new possibilities?” she mumbled. “I don’t know if it will ever be my reality.”

“Ms. Edison?” His voice sounded close.

What is he, a cat? I didn’t hear him come in! Grace pulled a tissue from its box on the table behind her desk. “I got something in my eye. Give me a minute.” She dabbed quickly and hoped her eyelashes didn’t leave mascara traces on her cheeks.

“And, please call me Grace.” Grace turned in her chair and found Chase standing with one hand folded over the other right in front of her desk. “I want to apologize, Chase. My dad and I had a miscommunication. You’re hired. Can you start tomorrow?” She lifted a shoulder. “You won’t be in the air or called upon for duty. I want you to meet my brothers and go over the basics. They’re pilots and in charge of scheduling, maintenance, flight patterns and the like. Your resume says you have a commercial pilot’s license. Bring it with you tomorrow. Our jet pilots start at 90K. Hope it’s all right with you.”

Chase nodded to everything she said. Strange, he seems too eager. She had low-balled the starting salary but the expression on his face never changed. He wasn’t insulted by the offer. Grace put the thought out of her head but planned to get back to it later. “Any questions before I send you to personnel?”

“What time tomorrow?” Chase smiled, showing straight white teeth.

Grace flipped open the airline schedule on her computer and scrolled through it. “Tim and Mark should be here at eight a.m. If you come at eight-thirty, I can talk with them first.”

* * * *

Chase hoped he appeared agreeable to everything she said. He’d followed orders and couldn’t wait to call Mr. Smith. Grace’s reaction to his hire meant Falcon Airlines must have financial problems. The solution seemed like a quick fix. He would personally invest money into the company if it would help them stay afloat. His assignment would be over, and his good deed was done. He could go home to his house in Myers Park, an easy drive away. He didn’t understand why he had to stay in a crappy apartment near the city in the first place. “Mr. Smith is the boss,” he mumbled to himself.

When he arrived at his parking spot, Chase pounded the roof of the five-year-old Honda Accord he’d been given to drive and unlocked the door. Before sliding behind the wheel, Chase took one look back at Falcon Headquarters. The eye of the bird glared at him from the middle of the round logo emblazoned on the building, as if to say, “You don’t know everything.” Someone poured their sweat and tears into this company and built it up from the ground. Hadn’t the Society done the same? Well, except for Finn.

Grace Edison wasn’t hard on the eyes and she might make his stay interesting. Her blonde hair barely touched her shoulders and Chase pictured running his hand through the soft tresses. When they locked eyes, he took notice of the chestnut brown color yet there was more to them. Grace had a haunted look about her or a hidden secret. “What could it be?” Chase said under his breath and placed the key in the ignition, almost forgetting how to start a car.

When the Honda had first arrived, he had searched for the remote start, then the startup button like on his Aston Martin. “Piece of junk! Shit, why did I agree to this?” He pounded the steering wheel. “Get a grip, man.” Chase looked in the rearview mirror and scratched his jaw. “Come on, man. Let’s find out where this adventure takes you.”

After finding a spot in his apartment’s parking garage, Chase took the elevator to the fifth floor.

Busy with his phone, he hadn’t noticed a young woman wearing a black tank top and faded, tight jeans when he had stepped into the elevator. Swearing under his breath at the burner phone, he stuck it in his pocket.

“They can be a bitch.”

Chase looked up with questioning eyes.

“Phones.” The dark-haired woman rolled hers. “Sometimes I think we’re better without them. Hi, I’m Darcy, by the way.” She extended her hand and her dark hair slipped forward over her shoulders. “You just move in?”

“Uh, yeah. Chase. Chase Garrett.” He took her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, and you’re polite too.”

The elevator stopped at the fourth floor. “If you’re ever bored and want to hang out, I’m in four-o-eight.” She winked. “You’re cute.”

The doors slid together, and Chase smacked his forehead. “Focus, man, focus. No Darcys allowed.” He walked to his apartment. “Or Graces, either.”

Chase hit the speed dial for Mr. Smith while unlocking the apartment door.

“Hello, Mr. Young.”

“Mr. Smith.”

“What can I do for you this evening?”

Mr. Smith must be in the area if he knew it was evening. Chase had driven around the city for most of the afternoon, treating himself to lunch and a stroll in the park to think.

“I need some of my money for an investment.”

“I see.”

“Not, ‘I see’. You ask where you should invest it.” Chase’s foot began to repeatedly tap the floor. “Falcon appears to have a cash flow problem. I invest. They get back on their feet. Mission accomplished.” And not so mission impossible.

“Not so fast, Mr. Young. I thought we agreed not to use money for a quick fix. And…you are missing the point of the assignment.”

“There’s a point?”

“Oh, yes. Dig deeper.”

“What? Did I hear you say dig deeper?” Chase scratched his head. “Mr. Smith? Mr. Smith! Hey, are you still there?” He stared at the phone. Call Ended. He threw the cell across the room, and it bounced off the living room’s wall, leaving a black indented mark. “Dammit! Son of a bitch!”

Chase was tempted to run down a floor, knock on Darcy’s door and ask her to dinner. Instead, he calmed himself down, grabbed a beer from the fridge and a frozen dinner from the freezer. He flipped on a sports channel and plunked down at the dining table at the edge of the living room, waiting for the microwave to tell him dinner was ready. “At least I don’t have to walk far. Five steps to the kitchen and five back. Maybe I could get used to this.” He chuckled.

* * * *

“This isn’t like dad to hire a new pilot and not tell us,” Tim said to his sister.

“I know, right?” Grace sipped her beer as they waited for her other brother to show. “Why is Mark always late? I specifically said to meet us here at six.”

“My little brother follows his own schedule, except when it comes to flying.” Tim winked at her. “And, he doesn’t have a wife and three kids at home. He’s free as a bird or should I say falcon.” He laughed at his own joke.

“He’s only two years younger than you, Tim. Mark’s had plenty of time to do whatever he pleases. At thirty-five it’s time to settle down.”

“Listen to you.” Tim nudged her. “How about you go on one of those dating sites instead of always telling Mark to make a profile. Mr. Wonderful could be waiting for you, and you don’t even know it.”

“I already had Mr. Wonderful, Tim.” Grace looked over her shoulder as if she was watching for Mark, swiping her eyes at the same time. “Besides, I’m twenty-eight. I’ve got plenty of time.” She poured another glass of beer from the pitcher. “Let’s change the subject.”

“All right.” Tim nodded. “I need to talk to someone who’s not my wife.”

Grace sucked in a deep breath and made a noise in her throat.

“What?” Tim waved his hand. “No! Do you really think so little of me?”

Grace placed her hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, of course not.”

“If I told Jen what I’m about to tell you, she’d want me to go for it.”

“Go for what?” Grace fidgeted in her seat. “Just spill already.”

“I got an offer from a major airline for fifty grand more than what Falcon pays me.”

“Oh.”

“I wouldn’t leave, Grace, despite what you think, but I’d like to make more money.”

“And since I’m Chief Officer of Finance, besides VP of Operations, you’re asking me for a raise.”

Tim ran his finger along his collar, looking uncomfortable. “Yeah.”

“I’ll look at our numbers and get back to you.”

“How are my sibs doing?” Mark’s arm slipped around Grace and the other over Tim’s shoulders. “Family meeting?” He scanned the table. “Where’s Dad?” he asked as he slid in next to Grace.

“This one is without Dad,” Grace answered, noticing how much Mark looked like their mom, lighter brown hair instead of blonde like she and Tim. He didn’t get their chestnut brown eyes either, his had a golden tone to them. His smile and bone structure made her think of their mom, giving Grace a twinge of sadness.

Mark helped himself to the pitcher and Grace noticed an Omega Seamaster on his wrist.

“You got the watch you’ve been showing us for the past few months.” Grace raised her eyebrows. Wasn’t it four thousand dollars?

“I’d been watching for it to go on sale.” Mark shrugged.

“At least it’s not a Rolex,” Tim said with a chuckle.

“I’m not telling you what to do with your money, but I hope you’re saving some of it,” Grace said.

“You’re not telling me what to do?” Mark pointed at her. “Baby sister is giving Marky advice? Financial background or not, I don’t need your help, Gracie.”

“Hey, Mark.” Tim glared at him. “She’s concerned about you and wants what’s best.” He looked at Grace. “Time to change the subject … again.”

It had been a favorite line of theirs since their teen years. When they had held secret meetings and saw their mom or dad coming, one would say, “Time to change the subject…again.”

“Go ahead, big bro. Change it.” Mark swallowed down half his beer and held the glass in the air.

“Jen’s pregnant.”

Grace thought Tim forced his smile. “I’m so happy for you, Tim,” she said, patting his arm. “Tell Jen I will call her soon.”

“You might finally get the boy you want,” Mark said.

“Mark!” Grace elbowed him in the side.

“Don’t start, sis. I always win.” Mark winked.

“Not always.” Grace stuck out her lower lip and gave him her puppy dog eyes.

“No cheating either.” Mark laughed. “Making me feel sorry for you doesn’t work anymore.”

“Okay, let’s get back to why I called you here,” Grace said. “Dad hired a new pilot, Chase Garrett. He starts tomorrow. I have him coming in at eight-thirty to meet you. Dad wants him to fly the new Miami route.”

“What?” Mark slammed his glass on the table. “I told him I wanted it!”

“Then talk to Dad. For now, I am going to let you two take the lead with this guy. He’s nice, polite, and says the right things, but there’s something about him. He took the job too easily and didn’t flinch at the salary.”

“What’d you tell him?” Tim asked, leaning forward.

“90K.”

“Whoa, you low-balled him.”

“See what I mean? From his credentials, he could get a job anywhere and for more money. Why Falcon?”

“He’s planning a takeover? Work from the inside?” Mark teased.

“Ugh, Mark, stop it. Tell me you two will be in my office at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“I will,” Tim replied as he slid from the stool and held up his phone. “I’ve got to get going. Jen says dinner is ready and, where am I?”

“You’re not staying?” Grace had hoped to have dinner with both her brothers.

“You’re stuck with me, sis,” Mark said, and gave her a pout.

Chapter Two

“It’s not a job interview, you’ve already got it,” Chase mumbled, looking through his closet for a suitable outfit. He chose a yellow polo without any logo and beige khakis. “The everyman look.” Every man he was not, but he needed to blend.

Chase started the coffeemaker in his small kitchen and opened the muffins and yogurt he’d bought for breakfast. After finishing, he headed for the bathroom. Staring in the mirror, putting final touches to his beard with an electric razor, Chase realized it’d been many years since he had to do things for himself. Someone took and picked up his dry cleaning, food was set on the table as soon as he arrived in the dining area and when he did have to do something on his own, he called a service or ordered on-line to be delivered.

“Chase, buddy, get your shit together. Think how it used to be when you were a struggling college kid. You’re on your own again like the good old days.” He threw a dirty towel on the bathroom floor. “No one’s going to pick it up.” He walked through the apartment, grimacing. “I’m a pig.” He hadn’t lived there more than a week and the place looked as if a bomb exploded. “Tonight, I’ll clean.”

The Honda sat in the spot where he’d parked the night before. “Sorry.” He patted the trunk hood. “I’d hoped you had miraculously turned into an Aston Martin overnight.”

“Ooh, you have good taste.” A female voice stopped him from getting in the car.

“Yeah, I wish.” Chase pointed at her. “Darcy, right?”

“You remembered. Ten points.”

Chase had time to study her better, noticing the extra piercings in her ears, one at her eyebrow. Her dark hair, pulled back in a high ponytail, gave off a reddish cast, like she’d put a rinse on it. He spotted a small tattoo on her right arm, partially exposed. Today she wore a black t-shirt with tight fitting black jeans and black running shoes. Not an ounce of fat on her, and she curved in all the right places. “Could I give you a ride?”

“Well, Chase, if I’m in the parking garage, I’ve got my own wheels.” Darcy smiled.

“Of course.”

“I have breakfast shift, so I need to get going.”

“You work at one of the restaurants in town?”

“Yep and bartend at the Golden Swan at night. Stop by sometime.”

“I will. Have a good day.” Chase dipped his head. Darcy. A needed distraction.

The ride to Falcon took less time than he thought. Chase glanced at the car clock. Twenty minutes early. Should I show up ahead of time? He made a quick decision to check out the place before heading inside to waste some minutes. Chase rounded the corner of the building when he heard voices.

“Did you fix the problem?” Chase recognized Paul’s voice.

“I can only do so much, boss,” an unfamiliar voice answered. “Have to take things slow so as not to raise suspicion.”

“Fine, but I can’t wait much longer.”

Chase waited a few minutes and turned the corner. No one’s here. He went back to the front of the building to go in the main door. His burner phone said eight-twenty-three, an appropriate time.

He heard her laugh before he saw her which made his heart skip a beat. Chase was eager to see Grace Edison again. She sat perched on her desk, surrounded by two men, one blonder than her and the other with light brown hair. The blonde had her chestnut eyes, easy to notice from a distance. Grace wore a white silk blouse and gray pencil skirt and had her legs crossed casually at the knee. It appeared something hung around her neck on a long gold chain, hidden by the shirt.

They stopped talking when Chase stepped in the room.

“Chase!” Grace slipped from the desk and smoothed her skirt. “I’d like you to meet my brothers, Tim.” She gestured to the taller of the two, the one with blonde hair. “And Mark.” He was shorter than Chase or Tim and appeared to work out to the point he could be a bodybuilder.

“A pleasure,” Chase said and stuck out his hand, getting a powerful grip from both. He refrained from playing the game of who had the stronger handshake. Chase had seen it done before and had been guilty of doing it.

“Excuse me?” A male voice interrupted.

Chase looked over his shoulder at a young man in dark gray coveralls with a falcon patch on the pocket standing in the threshold. Dark brown hair, average height and build, he didn’t seem familiar, but Chase felt like he knew him.

“Grace, you told me to let you know as soon as I did the work on the 737. The back row of seats was replaced and securely tightened. Now people won’t ask what the rattling is. No more in-flight scares.” He chuckled.

“Thanks, Ray.”

“Anything else you need, let me know.” Ray only had eyes for Grace.

Unexpected jealousy crept through Chase. Ray and Grace had a work relationship, nothing else, he was sure. Yet it bothered him. After listening to Ray speak, he recognized him. Not by his face, but voice. He was the man talking to Paul earlier.

Chase mulled over the conversation in his mind again. Their talk seemed strange, but now he knew Paul spoke with his mechanic. Did he dare think the man wanted to sabotage his airline for the insurance money?

“Chase?” Grace’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Do you want to copilot today?”

“What? Yeah, sure.”

“Are you okay? You appear lost in thought. If you need to attend to something, you can start tomorrow,” she said as she glared at her brothers. “Like we planned.”

“I’m good.”

“Guys, will you take him to the uniform room? Find something suitable? We’ll have a tailor work on whatever is needed, Chase. Come to my office when you get back.” Grace gave him a smile he hoped meant she was looking forward to seeing him again.

“Follow me,” Tim said.

“Don’t forget to pick up his badge and credentials from personnel,” Grace called after them.

Mark fell back to join Chase. “He literally means follow him,” he said with a smirk. “You and I will drive to the airport in the company car, but Tim has to take his own in case he has to leave at a moment’s notice.”

Chase tried to hide his surprise. “Hard to leave quickly if you’re in the air,” he joked.

“I know!” Mark nudged him on the arm. “We’ll get along fine. But seriously, Tim has three kids and one on the way. Can’t blame him.”

“No, you can’t.” Chase made a mental note, wondering if Tim needed money and had something to do with the financial position Falcon was in. Smith’s words came to him, “Dig deeper.” Is that what he meant? Falcon isn’t floundering due to sales or marketing, perhaps someone is skimming money or tampering with the books?