FUTURE RISK

  Contents

  TITLE PAGE

  COPYRIGHT

  AUTHOR INFO

  DEDICATION

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  EPILOGUE

  THANK YOU

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  MORE BOOKS BY MEGAN

  Future Risk

  Pelican Bay Security #2

  Megan Matthews

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author recognizes the trademarks and copyrights of all registered products and works mentioned within this work.

  Copyright ©2017 by Megan Matthews. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written person from the author. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the author at megan@authormeganmatthews.com

  Thank you for purchasing Future Risk. I hope you enjoy the second book in the Pelican Bay Security series. I hope to continue this series for years to come. I have so many ideas!

  If you’d like to stay up to date with books in my series or read about the other crazy things that I put on social media you can friend me at the following places. I love to hear from readers.

  Definitely take time to check out my other series, The Boys of RDA

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  To my dad - Just in case I never publish that thriller book.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Please don’t let this be a big hairy spider.

  Please don’t let this be a big hairy spider.

  With a deep breath I stick my hand in the hole in the drywall, making slow progress. The palm of my hand disappears until I no longer make out even an outline in the shadows. I stop and squint to get a better look, twisting my fingers.

  “What the fark?”

  I rip my hand from the hole and drop the green mushy stack. It falls to the floor with a squishy splat.

  It’s…money.

  A large stack of fifty-dollar bills is secured together by an orange band of paper in the middle. Bands like the kind banks use to keep money together. Using a single finger, I tip the stack over. The edges are wet and… well mushy. Like sitting in the wall behind an oven caused the money to deteriorate.

  My hand goes back in the hole, no longer concerned about spiders. There are probably some back there, but the prospect of money outweighs my fear. It takes three more trips back and forth. The last two stacks are farther away from where the oven sat against the wall so their condition is pristine. When I’m finished I line them all up behind my prep counter, creating a large pyramid of money, and sit back.

  I should’ve seen this coming. The realtor told me the building was special. I never considered she meant I’d find one hundred grand in a wall behind my old, outdated oven. Yet, here I sit, in the kitchen of my new bakery with — I do a quick count of the stacks of bills in my pyramid — fifteen stacks of wrapped fifty and hundred-dollar bills.

  To be fair I’m not sure it’s one hundred grand. I’ve never seen that much money, but there’s a hefty stack of green stuff in front of me. Much heavier than the so aptly named candy bar.

  I’d dreamed of owning a bakery and after years of being told I couldn’t, one generous tip last Christmas helped make it a reality. At the time I had no idea I’d end up on the other side of the country in another small coastal town. It was unexpected, but so far, it’s working for me.

  I eye the money cautiously, grab two stacks off the top and wave them in my hands. There must be a reason it was stacked in a hollowed out space and I can’t imagine it’s a good one. On the other hand, I’m quickly running out of my own funds. The fifteen thousand I started this venture with — most I saved up over the years — has drained away faster than water flows over Niagara Falls.

  “Are we out of cupcakes?” Tabitha calls out from the front of the bakery. I toss the two stacks of money I’m holding into a cupboard at the bottom of the kitchen island and stand as she backs through the double swinging doors.

  “Holy shit, Nessa. Do you know there’s a stack of money on your floor?”

  “Um…”

  Tabitha clears the space between us in three giant steps. “Where did it come from? Who does it belong to? What’s it doing here?”

  “The wall?” I swing my gaze to the large gaping hole where there’s normally a stove. I have been waiting on a new one to be delivered for over three weeks. The delivery service promised me it would be here today.

  “What? You stuck your hand in a random hole to see what you’d find?” Tabitha asks like it’s no big deal, but the look she gives me implies she thinks I’m crazy. Her dark brown hair is pulled up in a messy bun and her dull grey eyes are wide in shock.

  I can’t say much to defend myself. “I pulled out the oven. I wanted to clean up before the new delivery.” I point to the large green oven a few inches from my pile in case she missed the lumbering beast when she walked in.

  “You have to have at least two hundred grand here.” Tabitha grabs a few stacks of money and throws them on the counter, the bills spreading out when the paper ribbon breaks.

  “Two hundred grand? How do you know?”

  Tabitha pulls the rest of the money from the floor and lines it up on the table. “Crazy ex-boyfriend, remember?”

  Ahhh. She doesn’t need to say more. It’s barely been a month since she and Bennett were released from the hospital after Tabitha’s ex-boyfriend followed her to Pelican Bay to exact revenge. She’s been a little loose on the details, but Katy and I have put together most of the story. Ex-boyfriend, stolen money, drugs, and your everyday mafia connection. Not much happens in Pelican Bay, so the local newspaper covered it extensively. And so did Pearl’s nightly phone tree.

  “Why is some of it wet?” she asks lining up the rest of the bills into two long rows.

  “I don’t know, Tabitha!” I tuck a strand of brown hair back into my ponytail and resist the urge to yell.

  “Okay, calm down.” She switches to her inside voice, probably sensing I’m on the verge of a meltdown. “So this is your money?”

  “No!”

  “You don’t know where you came from?”

  “I told you. The wall.” Do I look like the type of person who hides a crap load of money in a wall behind an oven?

  She’s silent for a minute, those same shocked grey eyes analyzing me like she’s trying
to decide if I am crazy. “Can I give you some advice?” She stacks the money into five piles.

  I could use a lot of advice right now. “Sure.”

  “Tell Ridge or better yet Bennett. Tell him everything. Trying to figure it out on your own is dangerous. Our boyfriends are kind of bad ass and they can handle it.”

  Bennett? Boyfriend? “Bennett is not my boyfriend. Why would you even think that?”

  “He’s here all the time. He might not be your boyfriend yet, but he wants to be.” She finishes stacking the money and then taps her fingers on the rows counting.

  Bennett is here at least once a day, normally for a coffee and a doughnut, but besides some casual flirting there hasn’t been any serious conversation between us. We’re friends. And that’s really not what’s important here.

  The thin metal swinging doors that separate the front of the bakery from the kitchen open, hitting the walls with a clamor. “Holy shit,” Katy says slamming to a stop halfway through the kitchen. “What was all that crap about having a budget and decorating cheaply?”

  “It’s not hers,” Tabitha says, her eyes never leaving the stacks of money.

  Katy stops at the counter. “Oh, okay then.”

  “What? It is not ‘okay then.’ What am I going to do?”

  “I don’t know, but you better decide soon,” Katy says backing away from the money like it might reach out and grab her, “because Bennett’s on his way back here.”

  “What?” Tabitha yells, jumping from the counter.

  She races around to the other side of the prep table, and she and Katy stand side by side. Their bodies block the large stack of money right as Bennett pushes open the metal swinging doors like he’s entering a saloon of an old Western.

  “What’s up, ladies?”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Hey, Bennett,” I say, taking little side steps until I’m standing next to Katy. One more body in front of the money won’t hurt.

  He stops and tilts his head to the side, giving us a thoughtful expression I can’t quite put my finger on a name for. “Why are Katy and Tabitha standing in front of a stack of money?”

  Inquisitive. I guess his look would be classified as inquisitive.

  “Well…funny that…” I’ve never been especially quick on my feet when it comes to lying, and it doesn’t look like I plan to start now. It doesn’t help the hunky man-beast in front of me is gorgeous. He’s not as wide-chested as Ridge, but the bulging arm muscles more than make up for it. With his almost black hair and bright green eyes, he reminds me of all the crushes I had back in high school.

  Apparently I have a type.

  “Do you need a ride to the bank?”

  “Anessa found it in the wall.” Tabitha takes a step away from the money pile, distancing herself.

  Not to be outdone, Katy steps back gesturing to the table. “It’s probably dirty money.” They’re fleeing like rats from a ship!

  “Of course it’s dirty, Katy. I found it in the wall!”

  “Whoa, calm down.” With three long strides, Bennett stops in front of the money. “Anessa, tell me the story.”

  Katy opens her mouth, still standing on the other side the table, but Bennett holds up a single finger to silence her. “Only Anessa.”

  “The new oven I’ve had on backorder for the last few weeks is being delivered today so I figured I’d pull out the old one and clean behind there. You wouldn’t believe the crap I found on the floor, Bennett, enough flour to make a batch of cookies and two rubber bouncy balls. Where did they even come from?”

  “Yeah, but why were you in the wall?” he cuts off my story.

  While I’d been busy telling my story Bennett spent his time inspecting the wall and floor where I previously found said bouncy balls. He reaches in, his hand disappearing into the hole, and pulls out even more stacks of money. “Get me a flashlight.”

  Bennett continues peering in the hole while holding one hand out behind him waiting for a flashlight. When one doesn’t appear he turns his upper body around. The four of us cast glances back and forth, our eyes jumping between each member of our small group.

  “Bennett, this is a bakery.” Where does he think I store a flashlight?

  “Flour,” he uses the nickname he bestowed upon me the day he caught me falling from a chair while setting up the front room. My insides twist into a little knot. It’s such a ridiculous nickname and such a silly story—the whole flour versus flower thing—but it’s ours and for that reason alone I love it. “This is northern Maine. What will you do when the power goes out if you don’t have a flashlight?”

  “The power goes out?” I shrug. “I have candles upstairs.”

  “Are they scented?” Bennett asks. “Because scented candles don’t count.”

  “I have some vanilla ones. That barely counts.” Katy reaches out to grab a stack of money but I slap her hand. We shouldn’t touch the evidence when Bennett is around.

  “Yeah, I agree. Vanilla doesn’t count,” Tabitha weighs in.

  “I don’t actually know if they’re vanilla or not.” I’ve never been a huge fan of vanilla and normally opt for tropical smells. Not that I plan to admit those facts at this particular time. “But I can run upstairs and check.”

  “Ladies!” Bennett yells, his harsh voice quieting the room. “Tabitha, do you have your cell phone on you?”

  “Of course I do. Like Ridge will let me go anywhere without a cell phone.” She rolls her eyes while pulling it out from her back pocket.

  Cut off from the rest of town and close to the ocean, the main part of Pelican Bay doesn’t have great cell service. Most carriers give you zero bars, but if you know where to shop and have the right equipment, you can find a phone with at least a somewhat reliable signal.

  “Call Ridge and let him know we have a minor situation down at the bakery but make sure he’s aware you are fine first.” Bennett lays the new stacks of bills he pulled from the wall next to the original pile and starts fanning the edges of the money while mumbling about a crazy protective ass.

  “Who wanted a cupcake?” I ask Tabitha.

  Bennett is in control of the money situation and it’s time I went back to running my bakery. It’s also a helpful tactic so I don’t lose my cool and start crying like the ball of nerves I am.

  Tabitha doesn’t possess the same urgency in fulfilling the customer’s order. “Oh nobody. I wanted to eat a cupcake.” She doesn’t turn around when answering.

  “Go out and flip over the sign to closed,” Bennett says, stacking the money in a completely new but very similar shape to what we had it in before.

  “Um, hello.” Finally the three of them stand up from their hunched over positions eyeing the money and give me attention. “This is my business. How I pay my bills and buy food to eat. I can’t close the bakery randomly.”

  Bennett turns completely and crosses his arms over his chest. “You found at least a hundred and fifty thousand dollars in your wall. A few cookie sales are not your biggest concern.”

  “Excuse me?” My cookie sales are pretty damn important to my stomach. “Are you going to let me keep any of the hidden money?”

  “No, of course not. Nobody hides money in a wall for a good reason. Someone will be back for this.”

  “Then, yes, selling a few cookies is my biggest concern. This,” I point to the money, “is your problem. Everything that happens outside these doors is my problem.”

  Bennett tilts his head in that cocky way of his. “This is the way you plan to play the situation?”

  His question makes me pause. Is it? “Yes.” What else am I supposed to do?

  It’s obvious Bennett and I are about to enter a standoff. I’m focused and getting ready to do my best hip pop followed by a slight stomp when the bell attached to my entry door jingles. I lick my lips and give Bennett a look letting him know that this isn’t over.

  But I guess it is because before I make a full turn and head out to the front of the store, Ridge barrels thr
ough the kitchen. His long-sleeve black polo shirt with the Pelican Bay Security logo on the left side is identical to the one Bennett wears. It’s the standard uniform for the top two men at Ridge’s security firm.

  “What have you gotten yourself into now?” Ridge asks, stopping a few feet from Tabitha and running his eyes up and down her body checking for scrapes or bullet holes. When it comes the Tabitha you never really know.

  She throws her hands up. “Me?”

  Ridge turns his attention to Katy. “Did Katy do this?”

  “That hurts,” Katy acts affronted. “I’ll have you know this is all Anessa’s fault.”

  “Me?” Okay, she has a point. It could all be my fault.

  Actually, it probably is.

  Ridge turns his cool gaze in my direction and my shoulders go up with my rising nerves. I’m aware he’s a super nice guy, but when he gets his narrow-eyed look, one accusing you of putting his girlfriend in danger, nobody wants to be in the same room as him.

  “You? I pegged you as the good influence.”

  “Nessa found the money in the wall behind her oven.” Bennett steps up next to Ridge and winks at me. See? He has my back.

  “What were you doing with your hand in a wall?” Ridge asks.

  Seriously, are they trying to tell me none of them would get curious and look in the hole?

  “Who owned this place before?” Bennett asks, thankfully distracting Ridge from my lack of response.

  Katy’s answer has enough sarcasm and disdain to fill one of my large freezers. “Pierce owns the place, like he does half the town. He’s renting it to Flour for some outrageous price, I’m sure.”

  Bennett’s silly nickname doesn’t sound anywhere near as good when Katy uses it. And Pierce is only charging me a thousand a month for the bakery and the apartment upstairs. It’s a pretty good deal. Of course, I don’t say any of this out loud because now isn’t the time for one of Katy’s “I hate Pierce” rants. When she gets going it takes a while to calm her down.