CHAPTER 1

​

Jake Rayne felt adrift in a sea of social elites. An awkward, out of place feeling he hated slithering under his skin. Outwardly, he kept up an air of confidence and authority. Internally he battled to keep any sense of discomfort or vulnerability from surfacing. He was at his first black tie event as an invitee, rather than there to protect someone. It was a charity gala sponsored by his best friends, billionaires and philanthropists, Eric and Katherine Williamson.

​

Jake was always confident and comfortable when guarding the extremely wealthy or powerful political figures of society but mingling amongst them was entirely different. Socializing with societies upper crust seemed like a game of chess to him––everyone strategizing how to gain an advantage. Always planning the next move. Some hidden agenda in every conversation. Maybe he was just paranoid. Or maybe he was intimidated by all the wealth and power. Either way, he was a flightless bird just wishing to take to the sky.

​

Jake planted himself at a tall cocktail table with no stools at the back of the room. Like a lone pine on a rockface overseeing the valley floor he once saw in Yosemite, he stood quietly observing the room. He nursed a beer while glaring out over the cavernous space. Cocktail tables like the one Jake parked at lined the perimeter of the room with black tablecloths draped to the floor. Large round dinner tables set for ten filled the center. They were all properly adorned with white linen, expensive looking plateware, and a floral center piece taller than Jake’s last Christmas tree that towered above the table. Each place setting hosted multiple plates, utensils, and glassware––all shining brightly almost mocking Jake for not knowing what to do with them all. Four enormous glass chandeliers hung tethered from the ceiling. They sparked shards of light off in every direction as the air conditioning tickled the hundreds of small glass droplets dangling from each one.

​

“What do I do with all those forks and glasses?” Jake asked Katherine as she stopped by momentarily to check on him.

​

Katherine snickered. “More importantly, Jake, why are you hiding back here when there are all these beautiful women to talk to?”

​

“I’m not hiding. You know I’m not exactly what you’d call a social butterfly. And, most of these women are married.”

​

“Yeah, but they wouldn’t mind a little extra attention,” Katherine said giving Jake a little bump with her shoulder. I’d better see you dancing later.”

​

“Me and dancing don’t really have a relationship, Kate, you know that.”

​

“I don’t know why this all makes you uncomfortable, Jake. You’ve been to dozens of the most high-powered dinner events in the world. You’ve stood shoulder to shoulder with presidents, diplomats of all kinds, and celebrities.”

​

“Those were just assignments. I wasn’t socializing with them.”

​

“Honestly, Jake. You can be so difficult.”

​

“I’m not difficult. I’m … complicated.”

​

Katherine chuckled. “I give up.” She rolled her eyes and turned away still grinning, then flipped her head back around. “By the way, start on the outside with the silverware, on the left with the glasses.”

​

“Got it,” Jake said with a quick nod and pointing his finger at her with the same hand that gripped his beer. “See, I’m not difficult,” he said elevating his voice allowing Katherine to hear him as she walked off. She shook her head as she gracefully strode out toward the middle of the room. She was headed into the midst of the socially skilled and overly wealthy abyss he feared. He sighed and wondered how she and Eric performed this social ballet with such ease. Of course, they’ve always had money. So maybe you just get used to it, he thought.

​

It wasn’t that Jake didn’t have money himself. He always just felt he didn’t really earn it––he simply took a risk and it paid off. Investment advice from the Williamson’s included investing in the Williamson family company. It turned out to be hugely successful reaping great benefit for Jake. Of course he was happy not having to worry much about money, but at times somewhat embarrassed of his well to do position too. So, he was conflicted about leaving the secret service and work he adored versus the opportunity to live a carefree life of doing whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. Instead, he compromised––he took a consulting gig with the agency.

​

Jake enjoyed no longer having to concern himself with the internal politics that came with being an employee. Still doing the work he loved and walking away from whatever he wanted. He enjoyed the investigative analysis, the pursuit, the adventure, and the feeling he was making a difference. The feeling of making things just a little bit better in the world. The feeling of making things a little bit safer. It gave him a sense of pride, of worth, of belonging. But, fitting into these wealthy social gatherings was still challenging him. He’d rather be a guardian than a participant.

​

As Jake scanned the room, a familiar figure, looking equally out of place, caught his eye. Not that he appeared as uncomfortable as Jake felt, but because he just never struck Jake as a generous man.  It was Elias Richter, Director of the Secret Service. As if drawn by a magnet, Jake left the safety of his isolation in the back of the room, cutting across the room to find out why his former boss was at the function.

​

To soothe his self-inflicted social anxiety as he made his way through the crowd, Jake thought of being on protection detail. It was his coping mechanism in awkward social settings. Visually interrogating everyone as he passed by looking for anyone who might be hiding something. Did they hesitate on their responses, did they look like they belonged there, were they sweating or seem nervous, posture, mannerisms, were they acting suspiciously in any way. He loved the profiling to determine who might be someone to keep an eye on if he were working the event. The simple act of going into work mode wiped away the self-consciousness of rubbing shoulders with the top one percent. They were all just potential suspects again, like any other day at work.

​

As he continued drifting through the waves of socialites Jake started profiling his own boss. Physically, Richter was heavy set with the wrinkled skin of a lifetime chain smoker. He had a prominent nose with ears like catcher’s mitts. His face proudly offered a permanent frown. He looked more like a mafia hit man, Jake thought, than the head of the secret service. Richter was single and properly dressed for the event. On the other hand, there were no agency protected assets at the event and no secret service agents on site. Richter wasn’t known to be a charitable person and he also wasn’t typically a social person. So why would he be here, Jake questioned.

​

Event guests were densely clustered in groups as Jake made his way across the room. He zigged one way through some mingling guests and zagged a little too close to a champagne fountain table. He froze and held his breath when he brushed against it rattling the precariously stacked glass flutes. Thankfully nothing toppled. He exhaled, rolled his eyes, and stepped away from the averted disaster. As he bumped his way past the last few groups, Richter stepped away from the crowd to answer his cell. Richter didn’t seem to notice Jake approaching. He was facing away with his free hand covering his open ear to muffle the room chatter.

​

Jake stood nearby to allow Richter to finish his call. He wasn’t intentionally eavesdropping, but fragments of the conversation flickered at his ears. Only a few scattered words.

​

“No,” Richter appeared to say as he shook his head from side to side. Then “You should be good to go,” seemed to be what Richter said next before punching off the call. At least that’s what Jake interpreted through all the white noise rising in the room.

​

 It seemed to startle Richter when he turned to find Jake standing next to him.

​

“Elias,” Jake said with both hands wrapped around his beer to avoid a handshake greeting. He and Richter were always civil to each other, but hardly after work buddies. Jake never really liked nor trusted Richter. He didn’t have much faith in Elias Richter’s leadership capabilities either.

​

“Hello, Jake,”

​

“Work call?” Jake asked.

​

“What?”

​

“Couldn’t help but overhear.”

​

“Oh. You listening to my conversations, Jake?”

​

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

​

“It’s not one of your cases, Jake,” Richter pointedly stated with a bit of snip.

​

“Right,” Jake said with a sigh. He rocked back and forth on his feet contemplating Richter’s methods. No transparency. No sharing of information. That was Richter’s leadership style. Everyone working their own cases without knowledge of what anyone else was working on. Richter claimed it improved security. Prevented data leaks. All it really did from Jake’s perspective was imply no one in the agency was trustworthy. Richter was one of the few things Jake didn’t miss about the secret service. “I didn’t know you attended charity functions, Elias.” Jake meant it in a snide way, but the man was so stiff he didn’t even seem to pick up on it.

​

“Sure. Occasionally,” Richter responded apparently still unaffected by Jake’s sarcasm, or at maybe just ignoring it.

​

“Oh, well that’s good. So, does tonight’s cause have any special meaning to you?” Just then Jake felt a tap to his shoulder. Katherine swung around from behind him with the grace of a princess at the ball.

​

“Am I interrupting anything, Jake?” Katherine said.

​

“Oh, no, not at all Katherine,” Jake said. “This is Director Elias Richter of the secret service. Elias, this is Katherine Williamson. The sponsor of tonight’s event. Her husband Eric couldn’t make it. Eric, Katherine, and I all went to Carrington together.”

​

“Hello Mr. Richter. Thank you so much for participating. We really appreciate it.”

​

“Yes, certainly,” Richter responded in his usual mundane tone.

​

Jake then interrupted the small talk to tee up his question again, “I was just asking Director Richter here what draws him to this cause.” Katherine had told him never to ask that of someone. She said it might be a very sensitive and personal subject for some people. But in this case, he didn’t care. Being there was uncharacteristic of Richter and he wanted to satisfy his curiosity.

​

“Jake,” Katherine scolded.

​

“That’s alright Mrs. Williamson,” Richter said with a quick piercing glance to Jake then back down at his phone before returning his attention to Katherine. “I’m afraid I can’t stay anyway. I’ve just been called away on matter of some importance.”

​

“Oh, that’s unfortunate. Are you sure? We haven’t even served the dinner yet.”

​

“Quite certain. My apologies.”

​

“I understand. Thank you again for your contribution.”

​

With that brief exchange, Elias Richter turned and walked out leaving Jake with a tickle of oddity. Jake’s gaze trailed Richter as he exited the gala room into the hallway.

​

Katherine leaned in closer to Jake as they were both still staring at the exit. “A man of great warmth,” she said.

​

“Yes, isn’t he though,” Jake said sarcastically while still fixated on the empty doorway Richter just padded through.

​

“Well, I need to get back to the people who are here, Jake,” Katherine said. “And you, need to go mingle. Just because Eric isn’t here tonight, doesn’t mean you don’t have anyone to talk to.”

​

“I don’t know. That was strange behavior, even for Richter.”

​

“Let it go, Jake. Honestly, you don’t trust anyone, do you.”

​

“Sure, I do, Kate. They just need to be worthy of it.”

​

“You haven’t changed a bit since college, Jake.”

​

Carrington University is where Jake first me Eric Williamson during orientation. In conflict with his nature, Jake somehow trusted Eric almost immediately. They quickly became  best friends sharing every aspect of college life. They were similar in physical stature and even some features. They both had dark, slightly wavy hair parted on the left and sharp distinct jawlines. Although Eric had dark brown eyes and Jake’s were more of an unusually light sky blue. They looked so much alike they were often confused for brothers. Jake never let on but was always slightly intimidated by Eric’s incredible intelligence––almost savant like, he thought. So even though Jake was a few months older, he sometimes felt like the baby brother.

​

They hung together pretty much anytime they weren’t studying. Then, Katherine came into the picture at the end of sophomore year when Eric met her at a fund raiser she was co-hosting for a local, no kill animal shelter. A love at first sight scenario for Eric and Katherine. After that the duo of pseudo brothers became a trio of friends hanging out at every opportunity. Jake had fallen in love in college too, but foolishly let it slip away––something he deeply regretted, something that continued to haunt him, something he’d give anything to undo.

​

While Eric continued on toward a masters in entrepreneurship, Jake finished up his undergrad in Democracy and Governance and then applied for and was accepted into the secret service. He had decided law school wasn’t the path he wanted to pursue any longer, as he’d originally planned.

​

Even though their paths took them in different directions Jake and Eric stayed as close as two friends ever have been. Jake was even best man at the wedding and eventually became godfather to Eric and Katherine’s daughter, Faith. Jake didn’t know what a godfather was supposed to do, but it made him part of the family and that’s what mattered to him.

​

Feeling like family was the only reason Jake was at the event that night. He was just supporting Eric and Katherine in their fund raising. But in all earnest, he was a little pissed off at Eric for not attending. And Katherine would be working the event crowd most of the night for fund raising. That left Jake to fend for himself in a social setting––not one of my best skills.

​

“You doing okay, Jake,” Katherine asked gently placing her hand on his arm.

​

“Yeah, I’m good.”

​

“Liar,” Katherine said.

​

“What?”

​

Katherine leered at him like his mom used to when he was a kid and not telling her the truth. One eyebrow raised, one eye half closed, and that smirk of disbelief his mom used to give him. “You know you’re mad at Eric for not being here,” she said.

​

He was embarrassed. As a secret service agent who used to go undercover at times, he thought he couldn’t be read that easily. “Well, maybe a little.”

​

Katherine back slapped his arm and exaggerated her leer even further.

​

“Okay, well maybe a lot.”

​

Katherine giggled. “Me too.”

​

“Good to know,” Jake said with a smile.

​

“We’ll have to get even with him for this one.”

​

Jake nodded in agreement, “Sounds good to me.” He enjoyed the banter bashing Eric for not being there and appreciated Katherine bringing some humor to the situation.

​

“We’ll give him a hard time tomorrow,” Katherine said. “You’re coming for dinner, right.”

​

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

​

“Good. We can give him shit all night.” Katherine patted Jake’s arm and walked off to go pry open some more checkbooks.

​

Jake watched Katherine stroll off and thought of how he envied the relationship Eric and Katherine had. They were always open and honest with each other but still respectfully kid around. But, of course, neither Jake or Katherine was aware they wouldn’t be able to give Eric a hard time the next day––they didn’t know Eric Williamson wouldn’t survive the night.