by Kat Martin
It was freezing, the icy wind whipping her clothes, but Jessie didn’t care. Brandon was there and he was safe. Ty and Hallie, Chris and Sarah were safe. The passengers in the terminal were safe.
Bran’s arms tightened around her. His cheek was cold against hers as he buried his face in her hair. She could feel him trembling.
“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s over.” She held on tighter, slid her fingers into the soft brown strands curling at the nape of his neck. “Everything’s okay.”
He took a deep breath and eased a little away, but he didn’t let her go. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. It always takes me a while to come down after a mission.”
“Oh, honey.” The darkness was back in his eyes, his jaw rigid as steel. The hard edge was part of him, she now knew, part of who he was. He was meant to do what he did. She knew that now, accepted it.
She wouldn’t change him. Not a single thing about him. She loved him exactly the way he was.
She went back into his arms and held him tight. She didn’t ask him what had happened in there. He would tell her when he was ready. Or maybe he never would.
It didn’t matter. He had done what he had to. People were alive because of what he’d done.
He kissed her softly. “I love you,” he said. “So much.”
Her heart squeezed at the emotion in his beautiful blue eyes. “I love you, too.” She touched his cheek. “Thank you for being who you are.”
He looked at her and the tension seeped out of his tall, solid body. Ty and his family were already in the vehicle, the engine still running.
Bran leaned down and kissed her. “Let’s go home.”
FORTY
Jessie awoke in a tangle of arms and legs, Bran still sleeping soundly beside her. Lying there in his big king-size bed, her mind went back to the events of the night before, the terrible danger and heart-stopping fear, the pent-up emotions that had led to hours of wild, passionate lovemaking. A night free from any taint of the past.
Jessie smiled and closed her eyes, snuggled a little closer to Bran, dozed again, and didn’t stir until just before noon when her cell phone started ringing. She grabbed it off the nightstand, looked down and recognized the caller ID, sat up on the edge of the bed.
“Special Agent Tripp,” she said, her voice still a little thick with sleep.
“I’ve got news you’ll want to hear,” Tripp said.
Bran sat up yawning, rubbing his bare chest as he swung his legs to the bedside next to her.
“Bran’s here. I’m putting you on speaker.” She hit the button and Tripp’s voice came through loud and clear.
“I heard what you did at the airport, Captain. Off the record, of course.” Bran had insisted on remaining anonymous, and so far the army had managed to keep it that way. “Thanks for your help.”
“I just did what I was trained for.”
“A lot of us consider it far more than that.”
Bran said nothing.
“I called to let you know General Samuel Holloway has officially been arrested. He’s been charged with treason, larceny, espionage, and a long list of crimes that include conspiracy to commit murder.”
“He confessed?” Jessie asked.
“In a manner of speaking. Presented with the evidence and facing the possibility of life in prison without parole, Holloway rolled on Edgar Weaver. He pointed to Weaver as the man who arranged the hits on Wayne Coffman and Colonel James Kegan. He confessed to conspiring with Weaver in an attempt to murder Jessica Kegan and Captain Brandon Garrett.”
“That’s good work,” Bran said.
“From what Holloway told us, he was okay with selling the chemical weapons out of the country. As far as he was concerned, it was just one terrorist killing another. He didn’t know about the smaller sale of weapons or the attack planned on the Denver airport.”
“Holloway was a well-respected general,” Bran said. “Why did he do it? I realize his share of twenty-five mil is a shit ton of money, but still...”
“Apparently, the general wasn’t happy with the progress of his career. He was still a lowly brigadier, not the two-or three-star general he was convinced he deserved to be. His wife had left him, his kids were overindulged pains in the ass. His personal life had turned to worms, and he wanted payback for all of it. This way he became a wealthy man, as well as secretly giving the army the middle finger. Just didn’t work out the way he planned.”
“What about Weaver?” Bran asked.
“Weaver is headed back to the maximum security side of ADMAX—where he’ll be locked up twenty-three hours a day for the rest of his worthless life.”
Jessie’s eyes filled. Bran reached over and laced his fingers with hers. “I hope he and Weaver both rot in hell,” he said.
Tripp made a sound of agreement. “Jessie?”
“I’m here.”
“I want you to know your father’s name has officially been cleared. The army thanks Colonel Kegan for his many years of outstanding service and regrets the loss of such a fine officer.”
Her throat ached. “Thank you.”
“One more thing,” Tripp said. “Last night the police arrested Andrew Horton as he tried to leave the country. He was caught at the El Paso International Airport, trying to board a connecting flight to Guadalajara, Mexico. He won’t be seeing the light of day for a long, long time.”
Bran squeezed her fingers. “It’s over, Jess.”
“That’s right,” Tripp said. “Just let me know if there’s anything I can ever do for either one of you.”
When the call ended, Bran pulled Jessie into his arms. “Thanks to you, your dad’s name has been cleared. He can rest easy now.”
And knowing she hadn’t failed him, Jessie felt lighter, as if the burden she had been carrying had finally been lifted.
She wiped a tear from her cheek, looked up at Bran, and smiled. “So...after all the excitement, are you sure life with me won’t seem boring?”
Bran just laughed. “Not a chance.”
EPILOGUE
The smoky aroma of barbecue brisket, Texas-style, floated on the air. It was a warm April Sunday in Dallas, the perfect time for a Garrett family and friends get-together.
The barbecue was at Chase and Harper’s new home in Old Preston Hollow, a charming older custom ranch with molded ceilings, overhanging porches, and lots of paned glass windows. A good house for kids, Chase had said.
Bran stood on the pool deck next to Hawk, Jaxon Ryker, and Jonah Wolfe while Chase grilled the meat. The house was great, but it was the three-acre property less than a twenty-minute drive from the city that had made the sale. Vast stretches of lush green lawn shaded by ancient oaks, brick walkways lined with flowers, even its own little creek.
Beneath the wide, covered patio, Jessie, Harper, Kate, Mindy, and Reese’s date, Fiona St. James, were laughing as they set the table with plastic plates, paper napkins, and red Solo cups.
Jessie glanced Bran’s way and their eyes met. The smile she gave him was so bright and filled with love it made his chest ache. She was happy. Besides adoring her like a lovestruck fool, he had given her the thing she wanted most. A family.
Her mom and dad were gone, her brother, Danny. But Bran, Chase, Reese, Harper, Kate, Hawk, and everyone who worked at The Max had accepted her as if they had known her forever. They loved her.
And Jessie loved them right back.
She sauntered up to him, slid her arms around his waist, leaned up, and kissed him. “I’m starving. How much longer?”
He flicked a glance at Chase.
“Ten minutes,” Chase said.
“I guess I can manage to wait.”
Bran grinned. “Maybe I should drag you inside and entertain you until the food’s ready.”
She grinned back and fanned her cheeks. “You wicked, wicked man. D
on’t tempt me.”
He laughed. She was wearing his engagement ring, a perfect diamond solitaire he had chosen to suit her small hand. They were getting married. Jessie wasn’t the only one who was happy.
A lot had happened in the months since they had moved in together.
In San Diego, the FBI and Homeland had rounded up the last of the terror cell involved in the weapons sale to Yemen. Because of her cooperation and candor, Mara Ramos had been given a reduced sentence, three years instead of life in prison.
Ahmed Malik hadn’t fared so well. He was in prison. Somewhere. Probably for the rest of his life.
Unfortunately, the Aryan Brotherhood gang members responsible for Colonel Kegan’s death had never been identified. They were already in the army stockade so at least that was something.
Jessie was still writing, digging up interesting cases and trying to find answers. Her blog, Kegan’s Korner, was growing by leaps and bounds. But an investigative journalist’s job wasn’t easy and sometimes, as he had learned, it could be dangerous.
No, their lives would never be boring.
“Brisket’s done,” Chase announced, stabbing the big slab of perfectly browned beef and lifting it onto a serving tray. “Let’s eat.”
Though Jessie seemed happy in Dallas, Bran had been talking to Chase about opening a branch of Maximum Security in Denver. Colt Wheeler was interested. So was Lissa Blayne. Ty was a definite yes, and Jessie was eager to get back to her mountains.
He slid an arm around her shoulders as they walked together toward the table groaning under the weight of cold potato salad, spicy chili beans, garlic French bread, chocolate cake, and bottles of hearty red wine.
Reese sat down next to his current date, a tall, elegant blonde as fair and beautiful as he was dark and good-looking. Fiona was intelligent and friendly, but there was no fire in the way Reese looked at her. Clearly, they would never be more than friends with benefits.
Bran wished his brother could find someone to share his life, someone to love who would love him in return.
But Reese was a loner and not an easy man to handle.
Bran picked up his fork and had just dug into the delicious meal when his cell phone started ringing. The name came up Detective Heath Ford. He pressed the phone against his ear. “Hey, Heath. What’s up?”
“Sorry to screw up your day, Bran, but your guy, Stan Wilton, just called 911. Cops are on the way to his house, but you mentioned you’d be working as his body man as soon as the Mavericks got back to Dallas. Stan’s back and he’s got trouble. Those death threats he was getting?”
“Yeah?”
“Someone broke into his condo and attacked him with a knife. Stan got lucky and managed to get away, but he’s pretty shook up. I figured you’d want to know.”
The tall, lanky NBA Mavericks’ most valuable player had been getting death threats from what appeared to be a Houston Rockets fan. The cops were on it, but so far they hadn’t caught him.
Bran stood up from the table, the phone still pressed to his ear. “I’m on my way. Thanks for the heads-up, Heath.”
“No problem. Good luck.”
Jessie rose beside him as he slid the phone back in the pocket of his jeans. “Sorry, babe, I gotta go.” He leaned over his plate and shoveled in a couple of forkfuls of beef, ignored the tempting glass of Chianti, and washed it down with a drink of water.
“What’s going on?” Jessie asked.
“Stan Wilton’s back in town. He was supposed to call me as soon as he got here, but he waited. Apparently, someone broke into his place and tried to stab him. Stan managed to get away, but so did his assailant. He needs protection and he needs it now.”
He turned to the group who had all stopped eating and stared at him expectantly. “Sorry, guys. Gotta go to work.” He glanced at Hawk and Kate. “Can you two take Jessie home?”
“No problem,” Hawk and Kate said in unison.
Leaning down, he kissed Jessie long and deep. “I’ll call you, let you know what’s going on.”
She rested her palm against his cheek. “Just stay safe.”
He’d do his best. He had a woman he loved to come home to.
He waved as he headed for the bright red Stingray parked in front of the house. Adrenaline pumped as he slid behind the wheel, and his senses sharpened, honing in on the problems that lay ahead. Solving them was what he did. Bran fired the powerful engine and headed into battle.
* * *
Keep reading for a special preview of The Deception the second gripping book in the Maximum Security series from New York Times bestselling author Kat Martin. Missing turns to murdered, and one woman’s search for answers will take her to a place she never wanted to go.
Available now from HQN Books.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I hope you enjoyed Brandon and Jessie’s story. In my next romantic thriller, Reese Garrett struggles with his unwanted attraction to his executive assistant, McKenzie Haines. It gets worse when Kenzie is accused of murder. Worse yet, when Reese risks his position as CEO of Garrett Resources to protect her.
Kenzie won’t be safe until the real killer is found so they must work together—the last thing Reese wants to do.
I hope you’ll watch for their story; and if you haven’t read the other books in my Maximum Security series, The Conspiracy and The Deception, I hope you will.
Till then, all best and happy reading.
Kat
The Deception
by Kat Martin
CHAPTER ONE
Dallas, Texas
“I’m sorry, Ms. Gallagher. I know this is terribly difficult, but unless there’s someone else who can make a positive identi-fication—”
Kate shook her head. “No. There’s no one else.”
“All right then, if you will please follow me.” The medi-cal examiner, Dr. Jerome Maxwell, a man in his fifties, had thick black hair finely threaded with gray. He started down the hall, but Kate stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“Are you...are you completely sure it’s my sister?” She smoothed a hand nervously over the skirt of her navy blue suit. “The victim is definitely Christina Gallagher?”
“There was a fingerprint match to your missing sister. I’m sorry,” he repeated. “We’ll still need your confirmation.”
Kate’s stomach rolled. Her legs felt weak as she followed Dr. Maxwell down a narrow, seemingly endless hallway in the Dallas County morgue. The echo of her high heels on the stark gray linoleum f loor sent a sweep of nausea through her.
The doctor paused outside a half-glass door. “As I said before, this is going to be difficult. Are you sure there isn’t someone you can call, someone else who could make the identification?”
Kate’s throat tightened. “My father’s remarried and living in New York. He hasn’t seen Chrissy in years.” Frank Galla-gher hadn’t seen either of his daughters since he and his wife had divorced.
“And your mother?” the doctor asked kindly.
“She died of a heart attack a year after Chrissy ran away.” For Madeleine Gallagher, losing both her husband and her daughter had simply been too much.
The doctor straightened his square black glasses. “Are you ready?”
“I’ll never be ready to see my sister’s murdered body, Dr. Maxwell. But I’m all Chrissy has, so let’s get it over with.”
The doctor opened the door, and they walked out of a hall-way that seemed overly warm into a room that was icy cold. A shiver rushed over Kate’s skin, and her heart beat faster. As Dr. Maxwell moved toward a rollout table in front of a wall of cold-storage boxes, Kate could see the outline of a body beneath the stark white sheet.
Emotion tightened her chest. This was her baby sister, only sixteen the last time Kate had seen her two years ago, before she had run away.
The doctor nodded to a fem
ale assistant in a white lab coat standing next to the table, and the woman pulled back the sheet.
“Oh, my God.” The bile rose in Kate’s throat. She swayed, and the doctor caught her arm to steady her.
“Is this your sister, Christina Gallagher?”
The body on the table in no way resembled the beautiful young girl who had been her little sister. At only eighteen, this young woman was gaunt, her cheeks hollow, her skin chaffed and sallow and clinging to her bones. Her closed eyes were dark and sunken. Bruises covered her face, shoulders and chest, all Kate could see of the body.
Tears welled and slipped down her cheeks. “It’s her.” It wasn’t Chrissy in any way Kate remembered her, and yet there was no doubt she was the thin, brutalized, lifeless form lying on the stainless-steel table.
The doctor nodded at the assistant, who drew the sheet back over Chrissy’s face. Dr. Maxwell kept a firm grip on Kate’s arm as he turned her toward the door and guided her out of the room, back into the hallway. Her legs were shak-ing, her throat too tight to speak.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” the doctor said, finally letting her go.
“Thank...thank you.”
“We have your contact information. You’ll be notified when the body has been released.”
She swallowed, wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Do you...do the police have any leads on the killer?”
“I’m sure they’re working hard to find whoever was in-volved.”
Kate nodded. Without saying more, she started back down the hallway. The doctor didn’t follow and she was glad. There was nothing left to say, nothing more he could do.
Tears blurred her vision and her head swam as she walked out into the sunlight and crossed the parking lot to her car. She wouldn’t be returning to her office today. She needed time to deal with her crushing emotions, the sense of loss and pain. The terrible sense of failure.
She needed time to grieve.
Kate slid in behind the wheel and shoved her key into the ignition. Fresh pain struck so hard she couldn’t breathe. In-stead of starting the engine, Kate put her head down on the steering wheel and started to weep.
