“Do me a favor and lie to everyone else.” He stood and patted his jacket before finding his phone on the kitchen counter. Once he shoved it in his pocket, he faced Jeremy. “Lie to yourself, if it helps. But don’t lie to me, bro. Are you coming with me or not?”
“Not.” He couldn’t stand the thought of seeing her again after all this time and being reminded of what he’d let slip through his hands.
“Your loss.” As Jason marched toward the door, his phone rang. He paused while he answered. “Bowman. No, I’m the other one and you know it. Because it’s my phone. He’s right here. Seriously? Right now? You know we’re supposed to be on R&R. It’s…” he trailed off as he checked his watch and sighed. “I’ll set it up. Give me five minutes. Fine, two.” He ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket. “Open up a com link and set up the web cam. McKoy wants to talk to you.”
“Why would my boss call you instead of me?”
“Wrong McKoy. It’s Bailey.” Jason shrugged off the jacket and draped it over the back of the couch. “Why would she want to talk to you?”
“I guess we’ll find out.” Jeremy didn’t miss the jealousy in his brother’s tone. He had feelings for Bailey McKoy even if he refused to admit them. “Let’s see what your crazy girlfriend has to say.”
“Dude, we don’t even date.” Despite his pretense of annoyance, he jumped into action and had everything ready within the stipulated two minutes. “We have an understanding. Call it a bond. Both of us have pain in the ass identical twins and can commiserate. More than that, we’re friends.”
“With benefits.”
“Exactly,” Jason agreed with a nod. He then regarded Jeremy, dropping the smile. “You’re not pissed that I’ve never asked you to join us, are you?”
Not in the slightest. “Why would I be pissed?”
“It’s our thing. We share.”
Yes, they shared. Looks. Addresses. Women. It was only out of necessity. The looks, he couldn’t do a damn thing about. Jason insisted on moving in after the attack, so he couldn’t do much about that, either. But, the women? That was all on Jeremy. He needed his brother to anchor him, to stop him from losing himself. To keep the sex casual, a physical release. He’d already experienced love and had no desire to feel that kind of agony again.
“You’ve never needed me,” he pointed out after collecting his thoughts. “Especially with Bailey.”
“Would you need me with Bree?”
He thought about that. Would he? Could he share her with his brother? He honestly didn’t know the answer. “Doesn’t matter. I’m never going to see her again.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“It’s the only answer you’re going to get.”
“You need to chill, bro.” Jason faced him. “The truth? I don’t want to share Bailey with you because she’s a brain. You’re a brain. You two would bond over something smart and leave me in the dust.”
Jeremy straightened, stunned at his brother’s confession. Jason was jealous? Of him? There was a first for everything. “I promise I won’t run off with your girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“And I won’t be any time soon.” The flat screen TV mounted to the wall above the fireplace glowed as her pretty image appeared. She nodded at the web cam and smiled, lighting up her classic McKoy features. The entire clan had cobalt eyes and dark brown hair. Bailey wore her straight hair long, like a chocolate curtain around her light complexion. “Hello, handsome.”
“Hey beautiful,” Jason answered and wiggled his eyebrows as he fell onto the couch.
She lost her smile. “I was talking to the good-looking one.”
“We’re identical,” he pointed out in a growl.
“Not in my eyes.”
“Would it help if we both stripped so you can see how identical we are?”
“Don’t be a dick, Jason.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s so beneath you.”
“What do you have?” Jeremy cut in to draw the conversation back to why she’d insisted on a com link before these two took it completely off the rails. They’d be at it all night until one of them took it too far and pissed off the other one.
She focused on Jeremy. “Orders.”
Shit, yeah. He took a seat next to his brother and scooted forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m listening.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Jason put up his hand. “He’s on leave. Director’s orders.”
“I’m fine.” Jeremy glared at him and clenched his hands into fists.
“You look ready to pop.”
“Don’t you have a reunion to get to?”
“It’ll still be there,” he fired back.
“Funny you should mention your class reunion,” Bailey said, redirecting their attention. “That’s part of the assignment.”
“There is no assignment,” Jason barked, his tone slicing through the air. “He’s on leave.”
“What are you, his mother?”
“No, but if I got her on the line, she’d say the same thing.”
“Doesn’t change the fact I have an assignment to deliver.”
“Goddamn it, Bailey.” He shot forward. “Are you even listening to me?”
“Most of the time, no.” She typed on the keyboard. “Yell at me all you want, Jason. I’m just doing my job.”
“That’s what I’d like to do.” Jeremy gritted his teeth until his jaw popped. He should have never agreed to let his brother move in with him. Ever since the attack that left Jeremy an inch from death, Jason had barely left his side. It was three years ago. Time to move on already. “Can we just hear her out?”
Jason threw himself back and slouched, clearly pouting. He waved for Bailey to continue.
“Do you remember that find I mentioned when we last Skyped? Not the drug mule from Colorado. The other one.”
“Some gold-digger syphoning off all the money from her husband’s company or some shit,” Jason explained as he played with his tie. “The board of directors hired TREX to find the money. Why cut into our R&R for that? If you wanted to see me so bad, you could have accepted my invite to be my plus one at this class reunion.”
He asked her to join him at the reunion? Maybe their non-relationship was more serious than Jeremy had originally thought. That made more sense as to why Jason didn’t want to share her than the fact she had a high IQ.
“I’m no one’s plus one, cutie pie.”
“Cutie pie?” Jason shot forward, his shoulders squared. “No nicknames. We agreed.”
“We also agreed to no ties. That includes asking to be a plus one.”
“Can we focus, please?” Jeremy needed a whistle to keep these two in line. “What about the find?”
“I ran a background search on the target and came across a couple names I recognized.” She pulled up a familiar image of their senior pictures from the high school yearbook. “Check out that hair.”
“It was a very cool look,” Jason defended.
Jeremy rubbed his temples as his irritation edged higher. “I’m not going to the reunion.”
“You’ll want to after what I show you next.” She added another image, centering it below theirs.
And his heart stopped.
Breanne Willows. What the hell was she doing on the screen, her smile lighting up the entire world? Jeremy jerked upright. “What’s she got to do with this?”
“She’s your target. Her husband died five years ago from a brain tumor. He left everything to her. She’s set for life and definitely doesn’t need the money, but that didn’t stop her from helping herself to almost a million dollars from the kitty. It’s gold-diggers like this who give my gender a bad name.”
“No.” Hell, no. She couldn’t be involved in anything like that. She was too innocent. Too small and fragile. He refused to believe it. There had to be some mistake. “She didn’t do it.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“That’s Breanne Willows,”
Jason breathed as he leaned back. “I can’t believe it.” He shot a quick glance his way. That look of pity, of goddamn sympathy, drilled under his skin. He’d worn that look for an entire year as Jeremy recovered from his injuries.
“It’s Breanne Harrington now,” Bailey pointed out and pulled up more images. Bree on her wedding day. Bree holding a giant check she and her husband donated to a children’s hospital. Bree dressed in all black as she buried her husband after only five years of marriage. Bree on the cover of Time Magazine with her sister-in-law and second-in-command, Whitney Harrington.
“Not a smart gold-digger,” Bailey went on. “If she were, she would have taken the money and disappeared instead of sticking around and running her dead husband’s company. Something doesn’t fit. That’s where you two come in. How close were you to her in high school?”
“Close,” Jason answered, his focus on Jeremy.
“They weren’t… oh, shit.” She clicked a few keys and removed the images. “She’s the nerdy girl you told me about? I’m sorry. I should have asked. I mean, what are the odds the target is the one that got away? I’m really, really sorry, Jeremy. Do you want me to ask the boss to give it to someone else?”
“What are our orders?” He refused to let anyone else take this one. Innocent or not, she deserved someone fighting for her. Based on Bailey’s comments alone, TREX had already decided she’d done it. He’d stay by her side until this ended. He’d find the truth at any cost, even if that proved her guilt.
“Aren’t you done, yet?” Chris McKoy took over the giant screen and narrowed his piercing blue gaze on the Bowmans. Jeremy nodded in greeting. He hadn’t seen him since the mission that cost the TREX spec ops agent his spot in the elite unit. He’d since transferred to the intel division and worked alongside several of his siblings, including his little sister.
Who looked mad enough to shred her brother for intruding on her delivery. “Do you mind? I’m in the middle of an assignment.”
“You’re taking too damn long. Charis is driving me crazy with stories I’ve heard a thousand times. Watch and learn, Bails.” He cleared his throat and redirected his attention to the web cam. “Your orders are to retrieve the intel while protecting the target. There. See? That took all of five seconds.”
Jeremy honed in on a very key word that sent his suspicious nature into overdrive. “Protect her? From what?”
“It could be nothing.” Bailey forced a smile at the camera before shooting a burning glare at her brother.
“If it were nothing, it wouldn’t have shown up on our radar.” Chris matched her look, burning glare and all. She backed down, but not before she muttered a few insults. He ignored her and went on. “We picked up some chatter. Someone has been shopping for contract killers. Breanne Harrington has a price on her head and intel we need. Your orders are to find her and get her to come clean before the hitter finds her and silences her forever. We’ll protect her if she gives up the money. That’s the deal.”
Jesus. No. No! Someone wanted Bree dead? His world stopped. He worked his throat until he had control over the rage and fear threatening to consume him. No one would lay a hand on her or he’d die by Jeremy’s. He’d protect her with his life, if it came to that.
“How much time do we have?” He stood and removed his glasses to rub his eyes. His pulse pounded in his ears. How’d he not know about this until now? No way was she the target of a contract hit. No way.
“The clock’s already ticking. The sooner you find her, the sooner we can get our intel and protect her.” Chris’ fingers flew over the keyboard. Bailey was good, but her brother put her talent to shame. “As you know, you have a class reunion this weekend up in Anacortes. Tonight, you meet for drinks at the Dirty Word Bar & Grill. That’s our in. You two are the perfect team on this. As part of TREX’s security division, Jason has experience in the field and knows what to look for. He’ll protect her from any threats while you hack her accounts and track the money. Get me that intel.”
As much as Jeremy loved the idea of TREX backing them as they did whatever it took to protect Bree, it didn’t make any sense why they were involved at all. The agency didn’t butt into cases that didn’t threaten national security. He glanced at Jason, who gave him a single nod. They were on the same page.
“Why is TREX on this?” Jason asked Jeremy’s question. They’d always had that twin bond between them. The ability to practically read the other’s thoughts came in handy at times. “What’s the threat?”
Chris sighed, clearly annoyed they weren’t catching on as fast as he’d like. “Do either of you know what the software her company designs does?”
They exchanged glances again and both shook heads.
“It finds things.”
“I thought that was our job.” Jeremy replaced his glasses.
“We physically find things. Goggles does the same, only virtually. It’s brilliant, actually. I wish I had come up with the concept. I’d be living on a beach in Tahiti instead of on a cul-de-sac in Montana.”
“That still doesn’t explain TREX’s interest in this.”
“Goggles, Inc. has several government contracts and access to the location of every single field agent. It’s one of the main ways several agencies track their agents. Facial recognition. Vocal signature. If that intel fell into the wrong hands or was, say...sold to the highest bidder…”
“No,” Jeremy stopped him before he went down that rabbit hole. First, accusing her of stealing from her own company? Now, for selling secrets? He had to step in and stop everyone from going off half-cocked. “She’d never do anything like what you’re accusing her of.”
“You sure about that?”
“Positive.”
“Then get me proof.”
“Does that mean I’m off forced suspension?”
“Can you really get this done?” Chris countered instead of answering his question.
Of course he could. It was TREX tying his hands. “Yes, sir.”
“Do it. The more we sit and chat, the more daylight we burn.”
“Send us the rest.” He grabbed the jacket off the back of the couch. If they left now, they’d reach Anacortes before dark. Bree couldn’t be involved in something like this.
And he’d find a way to prove it.
TWO
The steady beat of the music mimicked the pounding of her heart as she stared at herself in the mirror one last time. No one would recognize her now. She was no longer Bree Willows, queen of the nerds, with her frizzy hair, pimple-ridden face, and glasses so thick no one could see her eyes. She was Breanne Harrington, owner and CEO of Goggles, Inc. It took five years for her to master running her late husband’s business, but with the help of his sister, she’d made it even more successful than when he was alive.
Now she’d returned to Anacortes, Washington to rub her success in the faces of all those people from her high school who’d voted her most likely to be forgotten.
Her cell phone rang and she jumped. After twisting her ankle being nearly plowed down by a cab in downtown Seattle this morning, she was still a little on edge. With a smile to sooth her nerves, she lifted the phone to her ear. “Hey, Whit.”
“So, tell me all the juicy details.” Whitney Harrington started right in. “Is he there? Have you seen him? And if you tell me you’re hiding out in the bathroom, so help me Bree, I’m going to drive up there and drag your ass out of there myself.”
“Of course I’m not in the bathroom.” She debated hiding in a stall but then rolled her eyes. Whitney couldn’t see her anyway.
“How’s the hair? Did it stay?”
Bree glanced in the mirror and blew out a breath in frustration. Why did she think wearing her hair up was a good idea? Her unruly curls let her know they didn’t appreciate being restrained by poking out of her roll in every direction. Curse the humidity on Fidalgo Island in August.
“Not exactly.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I look like Medusa.�
�
“Run your fingers under the water and comb them through your hair. It will reactivate your hairspray and be enough to keep those curls in place.”
Bree did just that and, thank God, it worked. “How did you get to be so smart?”
“Peter wasn’t the only one who got the brains in the family. I’m just the one who got the looks to go with it.”
They both laughed. Yes, Whitney Harrington definitely had the looks. Tall, blonde, beautiful. Never a hair out of place. Bree felt like the ugly duckling compared to her sister-in-law. Her dark curls refused to behave. Whit was almost six feet tall without shoes, whereas Bree barely hit five-eight. What Peter Harrington had seen in her, she’d never know.
“Listen, I’m not going to keep you. I just wanted to wish you good luck one last time and to tell you to do it exactly as we planned, got it?”
No, she didn’t get it. She never even agreed to it. Just the thought of walking up to Jeremy Bowman after ten years and kissing him had her heart in palpitations. And now she felt like throwing up. It was that night back at the party all over again. “Whit, I’m not so sure about this.”
“Don’t be a chicken shit. You’ve got this.”
“Why are you pushing me so hard? You’re my husband’s sister.”
“Late husband,” Whitney corrected. “And I’m also your best friend. It’s time you got back out there, Bree. It’s been five years.”
“I date.”
“Making googly-eyes at the FedEx guy doesn’t count, and if you bring up that guy at the Starbucks one more time, I’ll disown you.”
“We had coffee together.”
“He saw you drop your coffee and bought you another one to be nice. You said thank you. He said you’re welcome. That was the extent of your conversation. That’s not the same thing. Now, would you forget about the past? You aren’t that awkward nerdy girl my brother married ten years ago. You’ve blossomed into Breanne Harrington, the belle of the ball. Go get your Prince Charming.”
“Goodbye, Whitney.”
“Get laid, Breanne.”
She ended the call and had to laugh. Thank God for Whitney. If she hadn’t been with Bree after Peter got sick and stayed by both their sides from the minute they discovered the tumor, through treatment, then Hospice, and then the arrangements for Peter’s funeral, Bree would have never survived.
It Takes Two Page 2
