Found (Lost & Found Book 2)

  “Hope the boss doesn’t catch me checking out the heiress.”

  “Turner,” she said, stepping closer, avoiding the wood on his shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

  “Working,” he said, clearly aware that he’d said that already. “Figured it might be tough to get an apartment, but I knew it wouldn’t be tough to find work. I have skills, Candy.”

  “I know you have… I don’t mean here, I mean in the state. What are you still doing here? I thought you were going home.”

  “I am home, sweetheart,” he said, snagging a tendril of her hair on his finger to twirl it around.

  Also by Scarlett Finn

  MCDADE BROTHERS NOVELS

  ALL. ONLY.

  ONLY YOURS

  WRECK & RUIN

  RUIN ME

  RUIN HIM

  GO NOVELS

  GO WITH IT

  GO IT ALONE

  GO ALL OUT

  GO ALL IN

  GO FULL CIRCLE

  EXILE

  HIDE & SEEK

  KISS CHASE

  THE BRANDED SERIES

  BRANDED

  SCARRED

  MARKED

  THE KINDRED SERIES

  RAVEN

  SWALLOW

  CUCKOO

  SWIFT

  FALCON

  FINCH

  THE EXPLICIT SERIES

  EXPLICIT INSTRUCTION

  EXPLICIT DETAIL

  EXPLICIT MEMORY

  RISQUÉ SERIES

  TAKE A RISK

  RISK IT ALL

  GAME OF RISK

  HARROW DUET

  FIGHTING FATE

  FIGHTING BACK

  MISTAKE DUET

  MISTAKE ME NOT

  SLEIGHT MISTAKE

  STANDALONE ROMANTIC SUSPENSE

  RELUCTANT SUSPICION

  RESCUED

  STANDALONE CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE

  GETTING TRICKY

  HEIR’S AFFAIR

  MAESTRO’S MUSE

  REMEMBER WHEN…

  RIVALS ON AIR

  SWEET SEAS

  THIRTEEN

  XY FACTOR

  Copyright © 2020 Scarlett Finn

  All rights reserved.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  First published in 2020

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form on by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  www.scarlettfinn.com

  Contents

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  ONE

  Two weeks. That was all the time Poppy needed to get back into the swing of Granger life. In the fourteen nights she’d been home on the Adler Estate, she hadn’t left the grounds. Not once. None of the Granger women had.

  Only her father, Clark Granger, ventured beyond their perimeter walls. He had to go to work, to meetings and had other things to deal with. Important things. Given how much security he had access to and the fact he went from the house to a car then into a building, the press didn’t hound him. Not as much as Poppy and her sisters would be hounded if they tried to go out to say, a nail appointment.

  Going out wasn’t necessary for the women anyway. Nails, hair, clothes, whatever they needed was brought to them. That was the advantage of money. Her sisters and mother didn’t mind filling their days with massages and personal fashion parades. Poppy wished that she could be so easily satisfied.

  Grammie was still playing up her faux senility. The longer it went on, the more likely it was that her mother would be driven insane by the antics. Still, Grammie was who she was. After enduring decades with her mother-in-law, Poppy figured her mom should’ve learned that.

  Just as Grammie had insisted, Holden hadn’t been allowed anywhere near the estate. And Violet wouldn’t look at her youngest sister much less speak to her. More than once, Poppy had gone to her sister’s bedroom door to beg entry. Violet just ignored her. At the dinner table, it was the same scenario. Her eldest sister wouldn’t even look in her direction.

  That Friday night, the family had gathered for dinner, just like always. There was so much drama in their lives, yet they’d given up trying to talk about it, so no one said a word during the appetizer. The entrée was just as silent. Dessert was served and wine glasses topped off. Going through the motions was a Granger specialty. Rather than arguing and giving the staff something to whisper about, all of them did their best to eat fast and get through the meal without addressing each other.

  In the previous times her mom and sisters tried to converse, Grammie would end up either needling them or trying to bring Poppy into the conversation. The latter would silence Violet and remind them all of the animosity.

  Her father had other things on his mind so didn’t have much time to worry about family drama. The man often only made the situation worse in his attempts to fix things anyway. Unlike his wife, he had learned from past behaviors.

  Sitting with her family was a huge contrast to the always moving, always active Maddox house. Dinner with the Maddoxes was an event; a celebration just of being together. On pizza night, they made their own pizzas from scratch. Arguments over the toppings and who got what shelf in the oven were common. On pasta night, there would always be a rush to scoop up the last meatball.

  Poppy hadn’t had the pleasure of barbeque night at the Maddox house. Apparently, when Turner had the time to come over and spend an evening with the family, they grilled steaks on the deck. Imagining the scene and atmosphere put a smile on her face.

  After two weeks, she’d hoped that the Maddox family wouldn’t be so prominent in her thoughts every day, every minute. Throughout the first week, it was a struggle just to breathe. Despite the time that had passed, her struggle wasn’t getting any easier.

  Turner was still out there. Still working to support his family, fulfilling his responsibilities. He was doing what he was supposed to do, why couldn’t she do the same?

  From seemingly nowhere, her mother, Silvia, suddenly thrust her shoulders back to sit up straighter. “This is ridiculous!”

  “Finally, something we agree on,” Grammie Marigold said, though there was no way she could have any inkling what her daughter-in-law was talking about.

  Sometimes Grammie just enjoyed aggravating people. She wasn’t quite the doddering old lady she portrayed herself to be.

  “We have to know, Marigold,” Poppy’s mom demanded. “What is your plan?”

  “My plan?” Marigold asked, casting her round eyes around the table. “Do I have a plan?”

  “I think we should talk about Vi and Poppy first,” Primrose said. “You two have to start talking to each other.”

  “She stole my f
iancé,” Violet said to Primrose. “What do you want me to say to the woman who seduced away the man I was supposed to marry?”

  “I didn’t seduce him,” Poppy said, irritated by the constant accusation. Her sister and the press were eager to paint a scarlet A on her. “If I wanted your ridiculous fiancé, why would I have left? Why would Grammie have barred him from the estate? Why am I not with him right now?”

  Violet lunged across the table. “It’s all some big game to you. You can’t play with people’s lives like that. You and Grammie are both exactly the same!”

  “Oh,” Marigold exclaimed, lowering her fork. “It’s a game now? Excellent! I love games!”

  One of the gallery attendants came running into the dining room. Such an abrupt act was so unexpected that it silenced everyone at the long dining table. The harried employee paused for a second to compose himself, then came striding over to the table to dip and murmur something in Clark Granger’s ear.

  “What is it?” her mother asked. “What’s going on?”

  Marigold’s smile glittered. “This is turning out to be some night.”

  Her father, Clark, landed a fierce glare on the attendant. “How did he get onto the grounds?”

  The attendant glanced around at the women.

  Grammie was quick to pounce closer. “We have an uninvited guest?” she asked, then narrowed her eyes. “Is it Holden?”

  Even her father looked at the nervous attendant. When the employee noticed he was the focus of everyone’s scrutiny, he cleared his throat. “We don’t believe so, ma’am.”

  “If it is, shoot him.”

  “Grammie!” Primrose exclaimed.

  “She is insane,” her mother muttered.

  Poppy just smiled. “This isn’t a stand your ground state, Grammie,” she said. “And he isn’t threatening our lives.” Not in that minute anyway. “Besides, men like Holden don’t start fights, they send their guys, usually ex-military, to do it for them.”

  As Turner had once told her.

  “Who is he?” Grammie asked, tugging on the attendant’s jacket. “What happened? Don’t stand there dumb, boy.”

  “Yes, tell us,” her mother said, proving there was more than one thing the in-laws agreed on, that once anyway.

  “We don’t know,” the attendant said. “He appeared at the front gate. Security didn’t grant him access.”

  “Did he threaten anyone?” Silvia asked, reaching for Violet’s hand. “What did he want? Is he out of his mind?”

  Poppy was more interested in her family than the attendant relaying the story. At least she was until she spotted he was looking right at her. “What?”

  “He wanted to speak to Miss Poppy.”

  “Me?” she asked.

  Grammie clapped her hands. “It is Holden’s man! Shoot him!”

  “Grammie!” Primrose called again then looked to her. “Poppy, he’d only do this if he really loved you.”

  “What?” Poppy asked. “Appear at security to talk to me? No thank you, don’t let him in.”

  The young man shook his head. “We didn’t grant him access.”

  “Dad said he was on the grounds,” Primrose said.

  Everyone’s focus swung to the attendant again.

  “What did he do?” Grammie asked, practically salivating. “Bust on through the gates?”

  “Uh… no,” the attendant said. “He swung his vehicle up parallel to the perimeter and used it to get over the wall.”

  “Over the wall,” Grammie pondered. “Did he breach the wall?”

  Like the attendant was relaying a movie plot, Grammie relished the excitement. The others seemed exasperated, but her grandmother’s reaction was helping to temper Poppy’s own emotions.

  “After positioning the vehicle, he jumped out of it,” the attendant said. “Climbed up onto the roof of the truck and went straight over the wall.”

  “Oh,” Grammie said, her lips circled. “He’s smart.”

  “Is there property damage?” her father asked. Trust him to care about the costs before anything else. “Call the police.”

  “They’re already on their way,” the attendant said. “But he could be anywhere.”

  “Sure,” Grammie said, picking up her wine. “It’s not like we have dozens of security agents roaming in the trees. You’re supposed to stop people outside the wall.”

  Since the whole Holden fiasco, her father had hired more security agents, but most were on the external side of the wall. Even those who were on the inside would have to be exactly where their intruder was to track him. In the dark, in the trees, it wouldn’t be easy to do.

  “We’ve been looking for him… We don’t know where he is.”

  That was surprising. Just how long had they been sitting there enjoying their meal with some maniac close by waiting to pounce?

  “Where’s Tiller?” her father asked, surging to his feet.

  “He wasn’t on site,” the attendant said. “He’s on his way back now.”

  Clark retrieved his phone. “If Tiller was here, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “I don’t understand who it is,” her mother said. “With all the press we’ve had recently, it could be a crazy, obsessed lunatic.”

  Her father paused for a second, then looked to his wife. “Yes, you and the girls should go to the panic room.”

  Primrose made a sound of disgust. “I hate the panic room.”

  Silvia was already on her feet and was pulling Violet up to hers too. “You should be pleased we installed it.”

  The room had been installed a decade and a half ago. Over the years, it had been upgraded as technology progressed. Except, so far, the room had only been used by the sisters as a den for their teenage sleepovers.

  Clark reached for his mother. “You have to go quickly.”

  “I don’t have to go anywhere,” Marigold said. “I don’t want to miss the fun.”

  “Miss the fun,” Silvia muttered, ushering Violet past her to go to the next place-setting to retrieve Primrose. “Get up. We have to go.”

  “This is crazy,” Poppy said. “He’s never going to get into the house.”

  “Don’t underestimate crazy,” Primrose said.

  The only one left in her seat, Poppy couldn’t believe all the drama. She was about to say exactly that when noise carried from outside the room. The gallery… There was a scramble, a sound like someone falling, then there was silence.

  A female scream pierced the air.

  “Oh my God,” Silvia said.

  “Go!” Clark said, pushing his wife toward the terrace at the back of the room. “Go down through the library. All of you go now!”

  It wouldn’t be difficult to find the family. The dining room was huge and would be the only lit up room in that part of the house. The kitchens were beyond it, so whoever was causing the chaos would come upon the dining room first. The library was a straight shot across the external terrace. Going outside was their only chance.

  “Daddy,” Violet called as Silvia pulled her away from the table.

  Marigold wasn’t quick to move, though she was quick to grab for Poppy who leaped to her feet.

  “All of you go,” Clark said.

  The women began to move in their huddle toward the terrace, hearts racing, adrenaline flowing. Someone was coming for them and her father was staying behind. Who the hell knew he was so brave?

  Hasty footsteps came into the room and Poppy tried to turn, but the cluster of other Granger bodies was too close for her to see anything. Other faster footfalls followed and there was a scramble.

  “Candy-Cane!” Poppy froze. Right there on the spot as the rest of her family kept on going for the door. The scramble continued; she thought for a second that maybe she’d made up his voice. “Jesus-fucking-Christ. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

  Spinning around, Poppy was astounded by the sight. It was Turner. Right there, being pulled and heckled by a bunch of guys wearing black. They were trying to drag him out. And the
sirens, she could hear…

  “Let him go!” Poppy screamed, hurrying across the room toward the melee. “Let him go now!”

  Throwing herself into the mix, she yanked at the hands and arms connected to Turner. None of the security agents were authorized to hurt her. The cops were already on their way. If any of these guys hurt her or Turner, Poppy would demand the cuffs went on their wrists.

  As security began to realize that she was coming to the defense of their intruder, they backed off, leaving her and Turner in the circle of their ranks.

  “Poppy,” her father asserted from across the room. “What is going on?”

  Rounding to look up at Turner, Poppy tried to figure out what he could be doing there. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “What are you doing here, First?”

  Though she could see the pace of his pulse in his throat, his smile was slow. “You know what I’m doing here, Candy-Cane.”

  No, she really didn’t and kept on searching his gaze trying to find an answer.

  Her grandmother’s voice broke the tense silence. “Oh my God!” Marigold exclaimed. “He’s the stud.”

  Turner’s amused brow rose in question.

  Poppy couldn’t be so casual about his arrival. “Why didn’t you call?”

  “You left your phone at the Venture.”

  That’s right, she had. “Because I needed a clean break. We needed a clean break.”

  “I have been on the road for fifteen hours straight. The whole time I tried to come up with what would be the right thing to say when I got here.”

  “You drove?”

  “I drove,” he said. “Once I knew I had to get here I just… I needed to get here.”

  A plane would be faster, though somehow she couldn’t envisage him waiting at check in with a bag. Turner was an active guy; always doing something. Right then, Poppy wasn’t doing something, she wasn’t even sure that she was breathing.