Buried Treasure (The Detroit Pirates Book 2) Read online

  Contents

  Title page

  About

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Acknowledgements

  About Jenny Redford

  Excerpt: Yo Ho Ho

  Buried Treasure

  Jenny Redford

  Sydney Barton had a good life with a nice apartment and a great job. Then she went to work one day and found out her boss had embezzled millions of dollars from his clients, leaving her with no career and no future. Sydney never saw it coming and decides there's no way she will ever trust anyone again, professionally or personally.

  Then Andy Mitchell showed up at her door.

  Andy enjoyed his job as the trainer for the Detroit Pirates for the most part, except for mornings like the one when the team's rookie sensation collapsed in the locker room with a rebellious appendix. With Ryan McCloud on the injured reserved list, it's up to Andy to get started on a recovery plan.

  If Andy had just remembered the keys to Ryan's apartment, he would've never knocked on the door of the rookie's neighbor, Sydney. But now that he has, can Sydney and Andy put their trust in one another when it's so hard for each of them to remember what that means?

  Copyright © 2018 Jenny Redford

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America

  First published 2018

  Cover by Jacqueline Sweet Design

  For my trusted treasures.

  Chapter 1

  Send help.

  Sydney stopped brushing her teeth to stare at the text on her phone, waiting for the rest of the message she knew was coming. Waiting… waiting…

  And bring donuts.

  She smiled and rinsed her mouth out. There were some disadvantages to living next door to Detroit's rookie hockey sensation — the late parties and loud music, for example. But Sydney enjoyed her role as Ryan McCloud's pseudo big sister, probably more than she should considering what she was about to do for him.

  She walked over to her closet to pick out shoes, settling on a pair of flashy red high heels to go with her navy blue business suit with a respectable mid-knee skirt. Then she headed for the kitchen to make sure her large black leather purse was packed up with everything she needed for the morning. It was a splurge after she got her bonus last year, but it was totally worth it, especially for mornings like this. She grabbed two bagels from the counter, slathered both with cream cheese, and wrapped them in paper towels before heading out of her condo.

  The key for Ryan's door was easy to find on her key chain since he had wrapped the top in hockey tape before giving it to her. She still remembered the look on his face when he handed it over, a mix of apprehension that she would have access to his condo and relief that he wouldn't be locked out again after returning from a long road trip. She didn't mind him sleeping on her couch, but he was sick of it after the third lockout.

  Sydney put on a happy smile and slid the key in the lock, making sure to rattle the key to announce her entrance.

  "Hey, babe! I know you like donuts, but all I had to surprise you with was a ba—" She stopped, staring at the blonde woman in a t-shirt and panties sitting on Ryan's black leather couch. "Who's that?"

  He stood up quickly from his spot next to the unnamed blonde. "Um, this is…" He looked back at the woman, and Sydney was sure he was trying to stall because he couldn't remember her name. Then his eyes snapped back to her and he walked towards her, a secret smirk teasing the corners of his lips. "Listen, I can explain," he stammered. "This isn't what you think it is. Really, honey. I swear."

  Sydney threw the bagels on the kitchen counter and put her hands on her hips. "You swear? Really?" she answered sarcastically before turning to the woman. "And who are you? I mean, I don't care except for the fact that I'd like to know the name of the woman screwing my boyfriend!"

  The woman jumped to her feet and tugged her shirt down to try and cover up her pink lace underwear. "I should go."

  "Yeah, get your pants and go!" Sydney replied bitterly as she watched the woman scamper into the rookie's bedroom. "You better start explaining."

  Ryan smiled at her. "Well, I was at this bar last night."

  "Yeah."

  "And I had a few drinks. Maybe a few too many."

  "Maybe?" she asked incredulously.

  "I just don't know what happened after that."

  Sydney shifted onto her left foot and stared at him as the unnamed blonde came stomping dramatically out of his bedroom with her pants finally on and a pair of high heels hanging from her fingers.

  "So you got drunk and slept with another woman?" Sydney asked.

  "It didn't mean anything, I swear!" Ryan yelled, shooting a glance at the woman as she quickly grabbed her purse by the door and walked out. "It's just—" The door slammed shut and Ryan let out a breath, his shoulders slumping a bit. "No donut?" he asked casually, reaching for the extra bagel on the counter.

  "I have no idea why you even ask for donuts when you know I don't buy crap like that."

  He bit off a large section of the bagel. "I know, but a man can hope, right?" he said with his mouth half full.

  "So let me guess: you forgot that girl's name," Sydney said.

  "It wasn't obvious, was it?"

  "I've seen it before. Although maybe it would be better if you stopped bringing random women home from bars."

  "Yes, mom."

  Sydney gave him a friendly but stern look. "I'm serious. You play for the Detroit Pirates. Kids look up to you and your team depends on you. Try to cut back on the drinking and the sexing or whatever." She gave him a light squeeze around his shoulders and heard a sharp intake of breath in response. "You OK?"

  "Yeah," he told her despite the fact that he was clearly in pain. "I think I just pulled an abdominal muscle in a game the other day. I'm going to have Andy check it out at practice today."

  "Andy?"

  "Yeah, our team trainer," he said. "He'll fix me up and give me the same lecture you did about my extracurricular activities."

  "Great minds and all that, I guess."

  Ryan smirked at her. "He's a good guy who occasionally busts my balls when I get out of line. Kind of like you."

  "I would never go anywhere near your balls."

  Ryan laughed at her joke, then grimaced and grabbed his side.

  "You sure you're OK?" she asked.

  "I'm sure," he said, the quiet tone in his voice making her think otherwise. But then he looked
up at her with his usual big smile. "That girl is probably gone by now. Get to work or something."

  "I'm going." She grabbed her purse from the floor where she had dramatically dropped it and picked up her bagel from the counter. "Let me know if you want to catch up on our Netflix queue tonight."

  "Can we watch more X-Files?"

  "Obviously."

  If Sydney was going to spend her down time with the rookie, she figured it was best to be a good influence by turning him on to her favorite shows.

  "The truth is out there, Barton!"

  "Eat your bagel, McCloud," she replied as the door closed behind her.

  With her little performance out of the way, Sydney headed for the elevators. When the doors opened on the building's renovated lobby, she couldn't help but smile. She loved this place. First, it was close to work so lots of easy exercise considering she rarely had time to go to the gym in the building. Second, socialite and bestselling author Charlotte Stone had taken over the penthouse. The whole building was sure to go up in value because of that, making it the perfect real estate investment in downtown Detroit.

  And if there was one thing that Sydney Barton was great at, it was investing.

  Her parents weren't very encouraging of her decision to go to college, but it's where she discovered she actually liked her personal finance classes. After her first month at school, she told them she was going to be a business major. They told her to stop her rebellion. She could have a good life if she came back. It would be nice if she married someone from her small town in the Upper Peninsula and be just like her parents.

  Sydney just didn't want that. It never felt like she fit into that kind of life out in the woods. She had friends in high school, but not real friends, and the idea of spending the rest of her life seeing those same people everyday in town made her stomach churn.

  So she stayed in college in the Lower Peninsula and figured out how to pay for it without her parents' support. She moved to the "big city" of Detroit and was able to put a down payment on a condo after only living there for a few years. She called her parents on a regular basis like a good daughter, even if it was to hear them tell her again that she could own a nice house on four acres of land for the same price as her place in the city. She also made friends and discovered her favorite places in the city like museums, restaurants and the baseball stadium.

  Sydney didn't care that this morning, the wind off the Detroit River stung her cheeks as she trekked the two blocks to her office building in her high heels. She had been here for years now and knew this city was where she should be.

  Except she didn't feel the lobby of her office building was where she should be when she finally came in from the cold. Something seemed off this morning. The security guards who usually welcomed her with smiles couldn't look her in the eye. One of them had to override her security card that didn't seem to be working, mumbling something about computer glitches as he pressed the button for her floor before quickly jumping out of the elevator.

  Then there were the men in navy blue windbreakers with bright yellow letters who passed her in the hallway. She kept her head down — no need to get the attention of serious people who looked like they were doing some sort of government work on her floor. They must have finally busted the insurance guy down the hall who smelled like pot whenever she got stuck in the elevator with him.

  She walked in the front door of her office suite and froze. The government windbreakers were apparently for her. The letters she had ignored in the hallway stood out bright against the dark background: S.E.C. The Securities and Exchange Commission. The officials who arrest you for breaking financial laws were standing in her office suite.

  "Ma'am, can I help you?"

  She looked up to see a tall man staring down at her. "Who are you?"

  "S.E.C." He flashed her an official looking badge without giving his name. "And you are?"

  "Sydney Barton. I work here," she said, trying to keep her voice level and strong. "What are you doing here?"

  "Don't say another word, Sydney!" came a voice from behind her as her best friend pushed her way into the office waiting area. "Lucy Evans," she said, handing her business card to Mr. No Name. "I'm Sydney Barton's attorney, and she's not answering any questions."

  The man took Lucy's card, looked her up and down, and started whispering to the woman standing next to him.

  "Ms. Barton," he said, turning back to a stunned Sydney. "Do not leave this spot. Don't go into your office. Don't leave the building. Don't do anything unless we tell you. Do you understand?"

  No, she didn't understand. She didn't understand any of it! It was like she walked into this place and was suddenly living someone else's life. This wasn't her office, was it? This wasn't her life. Her skin felt cold, her brain seemed to stop, her legs couldn't move. Nothing about any of this was making any sense.

  She turned to Lucy, who gave her a subtle nod. "I understand," Sydney replied quietly.

  As the S.E.C. people walked away from them, the two women sat down quietly as Sydney wondered what was going on just beyond the reception area.

  This job had been a dream come true for her. She worked two summers interning for John Martin's personal investment firm before getting her job there right out of college. She had quickly become a success, taking on more clients from John's portfolio. She was now his second in command in the firm, overseeing more than 50 personal finance clients, and she wasn't even 30 years old. Hell, last month, John was talking about maybe making her a partner in a few years.

  But now there were people from the S.E.C. going through things in their administrative assistant's file drawers. Judy was a kind older woman with gray hair who brought in homemade fudge on Fridays. She wasn't supposed to be in for another hour, and Sydney wasn't sure if she should call to tell her not to show up. Was calling the nice lady with the fudge an arrestable offense?

  And that was only one of the strange questions she was asking herself. What were the empty boxes for? Would the S.E.C. take the flowering cactus in her office as evidence? Did they purposely show up before she had her morning coffee to throw her off? And why in the hell were they here in the first place?

  Her mind was reeling, trying to take in all the weirdness going on around her. Sydney prided herself on being able to quickly analyze facts when it came to stocks and bonds and mutual funds. But this? This wasn't making any sense.

  "Lucy?"

  She turned to look at her best friend, who looked pale and somber. Lucy leaned closer so they couldn't be heard by the government guys in the jackets.

  "Do not talk to anyone without me from now on," Lucy told her. "You're lucky your office is two floors down from your company's lawyer. My boss is already back there with John. Sorry I was running a bit late."

  "Running a bit late for what? Seriously, what the hell is going on?"

  Lucy looked up and Sydney turned to look over her shoulder. John, her boss and mentor, was walking towards her in handcuffs. Some of the S.E.C. people had their hands on his elbows while Lucy's boss, who also happened to be John's company attorney, followed them out the door.

  Sydney could feel her hands begin to shake, and she forcefully restrained them against her lap with little effect. Lucy put a reassuring hand on her knee to try and calm her down.

  "Wait until we can talk in private," she whispered.

  "Can't you just tell me what's going on," Sydney pleaded. "Just something."

  Lucy looked over Sydney's shoulder to make sure there was no one prying before turning back and giving her a very serious stare.

  "Your boss did some very bad things, Sydney."

  It was sometime after the sun went down before Sydney reluctantly headed home. She had been avoiding her place for most of the day, spending time at her depressing office as more and more boxes followed her criminal boss out the door, although she wasn't sure he was still her actual boss considering the circumstances. She sent a discreet text to Judy simply telling her the office was closed. T
hen she shut off her phone. Lucy left for 10 minutes with instructions to not say anything to anyone, returning with a cup of coffee. The caffeine didn't help at all.

  Sydney finally had enough after sitting at her desk for two hours asking government officials what she could take home with her and what she couldn't. The S.E.C. wanted to keep her financial reference books that she bought in college. They also took her favorite pens that she requested when Judy made a run to the office supply store. They did at least give her permission to take home the personal items on her desk: a framed picture of her and Lucy, her artsy business card holder, an X-Files mug that said "Trust no one." She found that one particularly poignant.

  After awhile, she couldn't handle it anymore and told Lucy it was time to go. Her lawyer, Lucy Evans, gave instructions to the S.E.C. officials about what to do with the rest of the things in the office and when she expected a detailed description of all the items. Her friend, Lucy Evans, took her to the local bar conveniently located between the office and her apartment and ordered her stiff drinks. At least Lucy got them greasy food and a piece of chocolate cake the size of her head to soak up the liquor in her stomach.

  By the time Lucy gently suggested she should go home, Sydney was drained of any energy she had left in her. She insisted on going up the elevator to her apartment on her own, not wanting to admit to her friend that she planned to take a long bath that would include lots of sobbing. Hanging out with Ryan was definitely out for the night.

  The elevator door opened and Sydney sighed loudly as she took the first few steps into the lobby on her floor. Her feet were killing her, which was something she hadn't noticed until now with her mind wandering to other issues. She put her box of office stuff on a small side table in the corner of the hallway, slipped her red heels off, and tossed them in. It was pretty easy considering how empty the box was.

  She trudged down the hall towards her condo, completely oblivious of anything or anyone around her until she almost bumped in to a man standing in the hallway. A man standing in front of her door. He had a strong build but wasn't quite as muscular and athletic as Ryan. Tall but not too tall. A little bit of scruff on his face that probably came from just a day or two of not shaving. He looked familiar to her for some reason and if she just kept staring, her groggy mind might be able to place him. Most days, she would remember who he was. Today wasn't most days.