by Kat Martin
Bran clamped down on a rush of anger that had his back teeth clenching. “Yeah, maybe.” But life was never that easy.
“In the meantime, I need to stay focused on why we’re here.”
No arguing with that.
They took a few minutes to get settled in the suite, which was as elegant as it looked on the internet, with a fireplace in the living room, a four-poster bed, and views of the mountains. He could tell Jessie liked it, and Bran liked making her happy. He just hoped to hell he could continue to keep her safe.
They used the balance of the afternoon to put their latest plan in motion, first calling Tabby to run the idea past her, then Charles Frazier. With Petrov and Graves out of the picture and no immediate threat to his family, Frazier agreed to a conference call between the four of them. Tabby and Frazier, communicating in computer-speak, came up with a fresh approach, and Frazier agreed to take another look at the Alamo Depot computers.
Someone had managed to hide the theft of the weapons for two full weeks before Frazier had discovered it. Using Tabby’s suggestions, maybe something would pop that would help them.
At the end of what had turned into a long, exhausting day, Bran ordered room service instead of going downstairs for something to eat. He felt like he was ass-deep in alligators. They still hadn’t found a way to nail Holloway, and until they did, they were in danger. The second batch of munitions still hadn’t been located, and now there was Ray Cummings.
Bran almost wished that prick would come for Jessie so he could personally eliminate one of their problems.
Instead, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to bed. At least there was one mission he could accomplish before the night came to an end.
* * *
Jessie told herself she should stop him. Letting Bran make love to her was only going to make things harder when they parted. But the heat of his mouth, the way their lips melded so perfectly together, sent desire sliding like liquid silk into her core. Hungry need curled low in her belly, reminding her how good it was between them, making her ache for more.
More kisses, the feel of his hands on her breasts, Bran’s hard body pressing her into the mattress, moving deep inside her, driving her to the peak of pleasure. She wanted to feel those things again, and more.
Kissing her all the while, he stripped her out of her clothes, shed his own, and settled her in the middle of the bed. She almost didn’t recognize the hoarse moan that slipped from her throat as his lips traveled along the side of her neck, over her bare shoulders, and he took her nipple into his mouth. She could feel his heavy erection in the vee between his legs.
“I want you, baby,” he said. “So damn much.” His tongue collided with hers in a deep, wet kiss that made her shiver all over. She couldn’t resist sliding her fingers into his thick dark hair.
He was kissing his way down her body, mumbling soft words that said how much he wanted her when it happened. When her traitorous mind began to slide backward, away from Bran, away from the present, back to another, darker time when she was trapped, tied up, and unable to move.
Cold hands were touching her breasts, moving like snakes over her skin. She struggled as the hands moved lower, his slick hot lips pressed against the side of her neck, making the bile rise in her throat. She tried to cry out, but the gag in her mouth muffled her cries for help. Dear God, she couldn’t bear it—not a moment more.
“Stop!” she screamed. “Get away from me! Oh, God, please stop!”
A dark head shot up, and even in the dim light of the bedroom she recognized Brandon’s beloved face.
“Easy, baby. It’s all right. No one’s going to hurt you. Everything’s okay.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she realized what she had done. That Ray Cummings had intruded back into her life. That she was a victim. That she could no longer trust herself to behave like a normal woman. Not even with Bran.
She started crying and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him, like a fortress against the evil in the world.
“It’s okay, honey. It’s okay.”
A sob escaped. “I’m so sorry, Bran...so sorry.”
He kissed her forehead and drew her even closer. “It isn’t your fault. You hear me? It’s his. Cummings. I promise you he isn’t going to hurt you. I’ll kill the bastard first.”
She whimpered. It was exactly that kind of thinking that destroyed whatever chance they had of being together. And yet, as she thought of Cummings and the terrible things he had done to the women he’d locked in his basement, the awful things he had meant to do to her, there seemed a rightness to it. A notion that justice would finally be served.
She couldn’t think about it now. Not now. Instead, she slid her arms around Bran’s neck and clung to him. “I ruined everything,” she said tearfully. “It was always so good between us and now I ruined it.”
Bran eased her a little away. “You didn’t ruin anything.” He gave her the sweetest smile. “Worst-case scenario, you get to tie me up again.”
An unexpected laugh escaped. She couldn’t believe it. Her eyes burned. How could such a hard man be so sweet? I love you, she thought. I love you so much.
The thought formed crystal clear in her mind, and there was no more denying it. She was desperately in love with Bran Garrett, and losing him would be the hardest thing she had ever done.
Bran shifted her a little but didn’t let go. “Why don’t we watch a movie? Something boring so we can both get some sleep.”
She nodded, her heart squeezing at the way he always looked out for her. “That sounds good.”
“Tomorrow’s another day,” he said. “Things always look brighter in the morning.” Then he softly kissed her. Crossing the room unashamedly naked, he grabbed the remote off the dresser.
As she watched the supple movements of his powerful body, Jessie was already thinking of tying him up again.
THIRTY-THREE
Now that they were back in Colorado Springs, their first order of business Monday morning was to request the exhumation of James Kegan’s body. They needed proof he was murdered. Jessie had believed from the start that a second autopsy would give them the evidence they needed.
They were also meeting with Special Agent Derek Tripp. They planned to present their case that General Samuel Holloway was behind her father’s murder and involved in the theft of the chemical weapons.
After the phone call Special Agent Tripp had received from Bran in San Diego and the CID’s arrest of two suspected terrorists, Jessie figured Tripp would be as eager for a meeting as they were. But instead of CID headquarters, she made the appointment for the Judge Advocate’s office.
She trusted her father’s military counsel, Major Thomas Anson. During the dark days after her father’s death, Jessie had come to consider Thomas a friend.
Freshly shaved, her father’s attorney was even better-looking than she remembered. And he clearly hadn’t lost his interest in her. Which Bran could apparently tell. Every time the major glanced in her direction, his jaw clenched. Jessie flicked him a look of warning, reminding him of the reason they were there.
Having arrived early to discuss the exhumation, they took seats in front of Thomas’s desk while he sat back down in his chair.
“When we spoke before,” Jessie said, “I asked you to arrange for my father’s body to be exhumed. A lot has happened since then. It’s even more important now.”
“As I said then, Jessie, it isn’t that easy. You need a specific reason, grounds to support taking that action.”
“I understand. What you’ll hear when Special Agent Tripp arrives should give you what you need.”
Thomas looked intrigued, but neither she nor Bran were willing to explain until the agent joined them, which was only a few minutes later.
With supershort blond hair shaved on the sides and longer on top, his bearing
perfectly erect, almost overly so, Tripp walked in and immediately stepped aside. An older, silver-haired man followed him into the room. A couple of inches shorter than Tripp and a little broader in the chest and shoulders, William Larkin was a full-bird colonel and head of the CID at Fort Carson.
Jessie’s already nervous stomach rolled. She found herself rising as the men approached, saw Bran coming sharply to his feet.
“Colonel Larkin.” Thomas Anson stood behind his desk. “I didn’t realize you would be joining us.”
“Special Agent Tripp thought it would be a good idea for me to hear what Ms. Kegan has to say.” He turned to Bran. “You must be Captain Garrett.”
“Retired. Brandon is fine.”
The colonel nodded. “Ms. Kegan. Special Agent Tripp has told me about what took place while the two of you were in San Diego. As you were, everyone.”
Tripp pulled a couple more chairs around the desk, and they all sat down.
“Now, if you will please tell me what the arrests of two suspected terrorists has to do with the death of your father,” Colonel Larkin politely demanded.
Jessie steeled herself. “It’s complicated. Suffice it to say, our investigation into my father’s murder led us to members of a terror cell involved in the purchase of chemical weapons stolen from the Alamo Depot. In order to make sense of everything that’s happened, I’m requesting that Major Anson, my father’s counsel, have his body exhumed so that we may reexamine the cause of death.”
“Based on what?” the colonel asked.
She started the lengthy explanation when the door burst open and three MPs stormed into the room.
“Captain Brandon Garrett, you are under arrest for treason in the matter of revealing classified information. Please turn around and place your hands behind your back.”
Bran looked at Tripp. “What the hell’s going on?”
Tripp looked as shell-shocked as Jessie felt. “I don’t know.”
“Put your hands behind your back, Captain,” a big, beefy MP commanded. “I’d advise you to cooperate. If you resist, it will only make things worse.”
Tripp turned to Larkin. “Sir?”
“Earlier this morning I received a call from General Samuel Holloway, director of Chemical Materials Activity. He’s asked that Captain Garrett be detained pending investigation into charges of treason.”
The MPs moved forward, a wall of solid muscle with one objective in mind.
“No!” Jessie tried to wedge herself between Bran and the men, but he set her carefully away. “Holloway’s behind all of this!” she shouted. “He’s been working with a man named Edgar Weaver, a prisoner in ADMAX. They’re cousins! Weaver arranged my father’s murder to keep him from finding the real thieves. Samuel Holloway is the man behind the theft of fifteen thousand pounds of chemical weapons!”
Stunned silence filled the chamber.
“Take him away,” Larkin commanded.
“Wait, please!” But the MPs didn’t hesitate, just pulled Bran’s arms behind his back, locked his wrists in handcuffs, and forced him toward the door.
“She needs protection!” Bran shouted. “Call Ty, Jessie! Ask him to get Colt Wheeler down here!”
For an instant, she was afraid Bran would fight, but even for him, escaping a military base wouldn’t be easy, and it would make the situation far worse. The door slammed as the soldiers hauled him out of the office and down the hall.
Jessie was shaking when Larkin’s attention returned to her, a dark scowl on his face. “A decorated officer having a relative in prison is hardly grounds for those sorts of wild accusations.”
“I—I can prove it, sir. But I need to have my father’s body exhumed. Please, Colonel. Brandon Garrett is innocent. Holloway is the man you want.”
Thomas spoke up. “Under the circumstances, I don’t believe what Ms. Kegan is asking is unreasonable, Colonel.”
Larkin’s gaze remained on Jessie.
“Please, Colonel.”
“All right. Request granted.”
“There’s one more thing,” she said, fighting to keep her voice from shaking. “Two people involved in this were murdered while they were locked in an army prison cell—my father and a man named Wayne Conrad Coffman. Special Agent Tripp can verify Coffman’s death. There’s a chance the men responsible will come after Brandon, too. I beg you to release him into Major Anson’s custody and give us the time we need to prove our claims.”
“Ms. Kegan is right about Coffman,” Special Agent Tripp said. “He was murdered in his cell. His death is currently under investigation.”
The light reflected on Larkin’s thick silver hair as he shook his head. “I’m sorry. At this juncture there is no connection between Coffman’s death and anything else. Without proof, there’s nothing I can do.”
His features softened as he looked into Jessie’s terrified face. “However. If the autopsy uncovers proof that your father was indeed murdered, I’ll reconsider my decision.”
“Thank you, sir,” Thomas said. He gave a smart salute, which the colonel returned. Tripp walked over and opened the door, and the colonel strode out of the office.
“I’m sorry that happened,” Thomas said as soon as the men were gone. “I assure you I had no idea.”
Forcing down her fear for Bran, Jessie’s anger solidified into an iron resolve. “I want that exhumation, Thomas. How soon can it be arranged?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I want it done no later than tomorrow. A man’s life depends on it.” Turning, Jessie walked out of the office. She didn’t bother to close the door.
* * *
Jessie didn’t call Ty. He had two kids who needed him, and she really didn’t know Colt Wheeler. She had Brandon’s .38 revolver back in the room, and God only knew what other weapons were in his gear bag. If someone came after her, she could protect herself.
She refused to let her mind stray to Ray Cummings. Cummings had no idea where to find her. The help she needed was for Bran. That help was in Dallas. As soon as she reached her car, Jessie phoned Chase Garrett.
“Chase, it’s Jessie Kegan.” She swallowed and tried to stop trembling.
“Jessie. What’s going on?”
“Brandon’s in trouble, Chase. We both are.” Her voice broke. “We really need your help.”
His worried tone shifted to hard-edged and focused. “Is your phone safe?”
“It’s...it’s a throwaway.”
“Where are you?”
“Fort Carson. Getting ready to drive back to the Broadmoor Hotel where we’ve been staying.” Her throat tightened. “They arrested Brandon for treason, Chase. It’s just some made-up charge to get him in a cell so they can kill him.” Tears clouded her eyes. “Oh, God.”
“Listen to me, Jessie. I’ll be there as fast as I can. I’ll be bringing all the help we need. All right?”
She nodded though he couldn’t see her. “Okay.”
“Will you be safe until I can get there?”
“I’ve got Bran’s revolver and I know how to shoot. I’ll be all right. But Brandon—”
“If anyone can take care of himself, it’s Bran. Just get to your hotel room and lock the door. Don’t let anyone in, and don’t go out until I get there, understand?”
“Yes.”
“Everything’s going to be all right. I’ll be there in a few hours.” The line went dead.
Jessie held on to the phone a few seconds longer, a lifeline to the brother she trusted to do everything in his power to help them. From the base, she drove back to the hotel, went up to the third floor, and locked herself in the suite.
She took the revolver out of Bran’s gear bag and set it on the dining table next to her computer. Bran’s laptop was set up, too, and he had internet access.
They had gone to Tripp that morning to present informati
on that pointed in one direction. Edgar Weaver, at Holloway’s urging, had arranged her father’s death. But the discussion had never gotten off the ground.
Jessie brought up the file she had been creating. She went over each detail, stringing the pieces together, along with pertinent facts. She pulled up the pages she had copied from Georgia court records showing Weaver’s ties to the Aryan Brotherhood. Janos Petrov, Harley “Digger” Graves, and Wayne “Tank” Coffman, all members of the Brotherhood, had been enlisted by Weaver to put an end to her investigation before Holloway’s role could be discovered. Even if they had to kill her.
Petrov had been murdered by Coffman, directed by Weaver. Now Tank was dead.
She put in everything she knew about Mara Ramos, though with Mara in custody, it was information Tripp must already know or have access to. She needed the agent to question Mara about the personal information she had stolen from James Kegan—without his knowledge. Information later used to set up the fake offshore account that made him the scapegoat for the theft of the weapons.
Satisfied with what she’d assembled, she saved the file. She wanted to print the information for Tripp and Larkin, but to do that she would have to go down to the business center. As tempting as it was, she decided to wait until Chase arrived.
Jessie said a silent prayer that it would be soon.
THIRTY-FOUR
It was dark when Chase arrived in the Garrett Resources Citation at the Colorado Springs Municipal Airport. He had two car rentals waiting. Jason Maddox took the Jeep Cherokee and headed for the Broadmoor Hotel to provide protection for Jessie. Chase and a private military attorney named Russell Addison got into a rented silver Lincoln sedan and drove straight to the base.
The gate guard checked their IDs. In his long-ago military days, Chase had been an army MP. As a military attorney, Addison also had the appropriate credentials.
Unfortunately, once they reached the detention facility, no amount of persuasion could entice the operations officer at the front desk to allow them in to see a detainee named Brandon Garrett.
