It Takes Two

by Allie K. Adams

  He used to believe Weber had a solid head on his shoulders. Turning their back on Bree was not a solid plan. As God as his witness, he would walk away from TREX without looking back if he had to. Nothing meant more than protecting her. He’d see this through even if his agency wouldn’t.

  “You’d let an innocent die all because we threw a couple punches?” Jeremy was surprised at the shock and hurt clenching his jaw until it popped. Either that or he just cracked a tooth.

  “I said I’d abort the mission, not let her die. Close your mouth and open your ears. Ever accuse me again of letting an innocent die and I’ll put you on leave permanently. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.” He clasped his fists under the table as he fought to hold his tongue.

  “I get that you’re worked up. You’d be an insensitive ass if you weren’t.” He threw a look at Rand, who dropped his gaze in reaction. “You have to push that aside and focus on the find. You do her no good if you lose your head. She has every right to freak out. You don’t.”

  He was right, of course. Jeremy nodded and did exactly as Weber said. With modifications. Instead of pushing his fear aside, he used it to focus, to hone in every fiber of his being on finding the person or persons responsible for this hell Bree now called her life. For the first time in a long time, the cloud of uncertainty was gone. His thoughts were crystal clear.

  “We believe the missing money was used to pay for the contract,” Jeremy said softly, setting the tone for the rest of the meeting. He hoped. “That’s a lot of money for a hit, even on a CEO worth as much as Bree. That’s why we believe there are multiple hitters at play. Whoever hired them isn’t playing around.”

  “Someone really wants her dead.” Weber grimaced and blew a breath into the air before running a hand through his buzzed hair. “Who do we have on this?”

  “Bailey McKoy is running intel,” Jason offered. “Rand and I are personal protection, and Jeremy is forensics. That’s the team.”

  “Not enough,” he ground out and removed his phone to dial a number. “Calling for her resignation put something in play. My gut tells me something big is about to go down. I know better than to ignore my gut. I also know someone else with instincts like mine.”

  Jeremy swung his gaze to Jason, who gave him a single nod. Yeah, yeah, yeah. He got it. Loud and clear. Trust your instincts.

  Weber’s voice pulled their attention. “Hey, it’s me. Do you always answer your wife’s phone? Are you really that controlling?” He chuckled, which shocked Jeremy. The director never even smiled. “Yeah, I’m sure. I remember those days. No shit. The next one will be here before I know it. Yes, I know what causes that.” He outright laughed.

  After checking his watch, he lost his smile and pinched the skin between his eyes. “Listen, can you open up a com link? I need to pull you in on the Goggles op.” He stilled, his eyes cooling to an icy blue. “What do you mean, again?”

  “I’ll get the com link set up on our end.” Jason sprinted into action to avoid the director’s glare. Damn it. Weber riveted that intense stare on Jeremy.

  Shit. Shit! It must be David Snyder on the other end of the phone. How much should Jeremy reveal about that night they’d called Snyder looking for Chris McKoy? In hindsight, it wasn’t one of Jason’s smarter moves, especially knowing the bond Snyder had with the special director. The two were tighter than brothers despite everything they’d been through. Even after Weber had sidelined Snyder after the man had taken a bullet for him. Snyder had nearly died, all to protect his best friend.

  The significance wasn’t lost on Jeremy. If those two could stay friends after everything they’d gone through, so could the twins. He glanced at his brother, who had the com link ready, yet pretended to check wire after wire, all to avoid the director. When he caught him watching, Jason fought a grin. Jeremy didn’t. He chuckled and shook his head. His brother was a giant pain in the ass, but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

  “I’ll dial you in on the com link.” Weber ended the call and nodded at Jason. “Don’t pretend you don’t know the number by heart. With as much time as Bailey spends over there helping Charis with the boys, you probably Skype more from Snyder’s place than you do Bailey’s tiny apartment.”

  “How did you…” Jason snapped his mouth shut and dialed. As soon as the TV above the fireplace lit up, David Snyder’s image appeared. He narrowed his dark eyes as he spent several seconds tracing the room.

  “He’s memorizing everything,” Weber pointed out wearily before regarding the screen. “Are you done or should I give you a few more seconds?”

  “I didn’t even need as many as I took.” He grinned wide. “Where is she?”

  “Who?”

  “The gal who chewed my ass and accused me of sending in those two troublemakers as part of a game.” He set his jaw as his eyes grew cold.

  “She had no idea about McKoy,” Jeremy explained. “She still doesn’t know how that game destroyed Chris’ life.”

  “He’s just about the only one who doesn’t look at it that way. He may be permanently disabled, but he’s got his wife, a kid on the way, and plans for an entire litter. Chris definitely does not look at his injury the same as the rest of his family.” He shifted his attention to Jason and narrowed his eyes. Jesus, that was a lethal glare. “I see your brother smacked you around a bit.”

  “How’d you know it was him?”

  “I saw the bruises on his knuckles. You’re lucky it wasn’t me. I wouldn’t have left you conscious.”

  Jason paled and backed away from the screen. He bounced his gaze to Jeremy and back to Snyder. “We were played.”

  “It was Donovan,” Weber explained.

  “That son of a bitch.” Snyder slurred a few more curses. “Are we ever going to be rid of the chaos that man caused? You know what? That’s an answer for another time. That’s not why I’m ready to kill you with my bare hands. Whatever you said to Bailey had her ready to pack up everything and move to a cabin in the woods. What the hell did you say to her? She won’t tell Charis. In fact, she hasn’t said much of anything else aside from wanting to resign her commission as a TREX agent. Do you understand what I’m saying? She wants to quit, Bowman. All because you said something that got under her skin.”

  “Shit,” he muttered. “She heard me.”

  “No shit, she heard you. What did you say to break my little sister-in-law?”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Tell that to Bailey, who’s locked herself in our spare room and refuses to come out.”

  “Another time,” Weber cut in and gave Snyder a nod, who returned the gesture. “We have a situation. I’m calling in that favor.”

  “Which one is that?”

  “Do I have any left?”

  Snyder’s lips twitched much like Weber’s. “You hand over pretty boy after this is done, I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “Wait.” Jason dropped his jaw. “What?”

  “You messed with his family.” Weber shook his head and sighed hard. “Snyder takes that shit personally.”

  He jerked his wide gaze between the director and SAC. After jumping his attention to Jeremy, his expression softened. He nodded as he faced the screen. “Family comes first. I get that now. After this is over, I’m on the first plane to Montana.”

  “Then it’s settled.” Snyder grinned. “We get whoever is after Mrs. Harrington, and I get the dickhead who made Bailey cry. I’m going to make you cry, Bowman. That’s a promise.”

  Jeremy had to put an end to the circus before his brain exploded. “How is bringing in a spec ops team going to get us any closer to finding who took the money and paid for the hit?”

  “Never underestimate the power of observation,” Snyder said. “I already know more about this op than you do based on two phone calls and what I’ve read in the paper. Shall I demonstrate?”

  “Oh, please do.” Weber paced behind the couch, his tone laced with amusement. Jeremy sure as hell wish
ed he saw the humor in the situation. “Let the green agents learn from the best.”

  “Who you calling green?” Jason exclaimed. “We’ve been with the agency for six years. Besides, Jer has been totally focused on this find. Don’t you talk to him like he hasn’t been doing everything in his power to hunt down the threats against his girl.”

  Snyder laughed and tilted his head. “I remember what it was like to puff my chest instead of take direction.”

  “So do I,” Weber mused.

  “You stay out of this.”

  Weber brought up his hands.

  “Here it is,” Snyder started as he regarded Jason and Jeremy. Somehow, they’d managed to end up next to each other. “The subject has been in danger a lot longer than TREX has been engaged. The money started disappearing after the company fought off the hostile takeover.”

  “Correction,” Jason stated. “After Goggles acquired KPGL.”

  “One and the same.” Snyder’s gaze flew to him. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I’m looking forward to our meeting.”

  “Why do you think she’s been in danger since Goggles purchased KPGL?” Jeremy asked, desperate to keep the conversation on track.

  “Our subject isn’t afraid to fight for what she wants.” Thank God Snyder’s cool, dancing gaze returned to him. “She single-handedly saved Goggles, pissing off several members of her board. Since the takeover failed, those butt hurt they wouldn’t be lining their pockets with Benjamins anytime soon took a more direct approach. When stealing the money still wasn’t enough to turn the board against the CEO, that directness turned to desperation. This was never about Breanne Harrington, the person. This was always about the CEO of Goggles. That’s why TREX agreed to take the assignment. We don’t care about the money. We don’t even care about the hitters. We want those on the board willing to sell off the technology TREX uses day in and day out.”

  “If that technology fell into the wrong hands,” Jeremy spoke up, making the connection. “Our agents and the agents of all the other alphabet agencies would be exposed. It would start a bidding war between all those factions and regimes wanting to make a name against the United States. Against the world.”

  Snyder nodded. “You got it. My guess is the real threat is inside Goggles. That’s where you’ll find the money. That’s where you’ll find the one behind the contract to kill Breanne Harrington.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  The shrill ring of the phone jolted Bree awake. She grabbed her throbbing head and slapped at the nightstand until she found the offending object, bringing it to her ear. “’lo?”

  “Please tell me you’re alone.”

  Her heart stopped and painfully started again. Checking the Caller ID, she let out a sigh. “Hey, Whit.”

  “Don’t tell me I woke you up.”

  She squinted at the alarm clock. As soon as it registered, she jerked upright. It was after nine. She hadn’t slept this late in years. The last thing she remembered, Rand had just dropped her off. She’d stood, the world spun out of control, and that was it. “Late night.”

  “Guess that answers the question. Is it Jeremy?”

  “No.” She squeezed the skin between her eyes. “I’m sure he worked all night, hell bent on finding the money. He won’t let me write that check.”

  “That’s not his call.”

  “He knows that. We’ll end up agreeing to disagree. He’ll just puff his chest.”

  Whit hummed, something she did when she disapproved. “Just like a gorilla. How charming.”

  “Jealous?” She pushed her hair off her face and held her forehead. This was why she hated drinking. The morning after wasn’t worth it.

  “Hell yes, I’m jealous. You’re stuck with a gorgeous man you’ve been in love with since high school. The guy is crazy about you. He cooks. He cleans. He rubs your feet. Among other sensitive spots, apparently.”

  “Whit!”

  “I only speak the truth, so you can stop pretending to be so shocked. It’s better than going home to an empty apartment, pouring yourself a glass of wine the size of a fishbowl, and scrolling through Tinder all night. Did you know there are glasses big enough to fit an entire bottle of wine?”

  “Please tell me that’s not what you did to celebrate being promoted to president.” Her voice caught as the sentence drew to a close. It wasn’t exactly the easiest defeat to admit.

  She scoffed. “I hardly call it a promotion or reason to celebrate. I’m simply standing in until we get to the bottom of this. Anyway, I didn’t call to open up that wound. Don’t forget the art thing tonight,”

  “What art thing?”

  “The Troy Gua gala at the SAM. I took the liberty of RSVPing for you and a plus one.”

  “I’m not the CEO any longer. Besides, after the check I’m going to have to write, I can’t afford to donate to the art museum this year. You should really go.” And that sucked. She may not be an art connoisseur like Whit. That didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy a nice gala. Besides, she loved supporting local artists.

  “I’d love to, but I have a date.”

  “You do?”

  “I do,” she sang. The smile shined in her tone.

  “With a boy?”

  Whitney sighed. “That was one time. In college. While I was high. And hungry. She was hogging all the Doritos.” Bree whistled a line from that Katy Perry song about kissing a girl. “You’re terrible. Anyway, since I knew you’d forget all about the gala, I also got your dress. Where should I have it delivered?”

  “Shoes?” She perked up. Yes, she had a shoe fetish. She wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

  “Sweetie, you have over a hundred pair still in their box. I’m sure you have some that’ll work.”

  “Better deliver the dress to my condo, then.”

  “Will Jeremy let you out of his sight long enough for you to pick it up?”

  “I’m sure he’s working all weekend,” she pointed out, unable to hide the disappointment. She’d have to attend the gala alone. Awesome. “He won’t even notice I’m gone.”

  “Trust me. I’d notice,” he said from behind her, shocking the hell out of her. He had the nectar of life in a steaming mug full of coffee. Those debilitating blue eyes held her captive as they danced with interest.

  “Have it delivered around five. I have to go.” Bree ended the call and dropped the phone onto the bed, her attention never leaving his.

  “What’s being delivered?”

  Caffeine first, then explanation. She jumped to her feet and padded across the room, accepting the coffee with a smile. “Thank you.”

  “There’s quiche if you’re hungry.”

  She inhaled sharply, taking in the magnificent scent. “Starving.”

  He waited until she had a large slice of the fluffy goodness in front of her as she sat at the kitchen table before repeating the question. “What’s being delivered?”

  “A dress.” She took a bite and curled her toes. Holy cow, did this man know how to cook. The delightful concoction melted in her mouth.

  “For?”

  “An art gala at the SAM. Before you tell me I can’t go,” she cut in with her fork held high. He snapped his mouth closed. “I tried to get out of it already. So,” she paused to pull another bite off the quiche. After enjoying the hell out of it, she went on. “Not only do I have to go, but you’re also coming with me.”

  “Done. Would you like another piece?” He stood, grabbed her plate, and dished up another slice. She really shouldn’t, especially if she had to fit into a Whitney dress. She always picked the tightest, most form-fitting outfits.

  “Why aren’t you fighting me on this?”

  “I think it will be good to get out, show the world resigning your position at Goggles hasn’t affected you in any way.”

  If only that were true. She’d buried her feelings in a bottle of whiskey last night and would rather hide under the covers for a few days, maybe build a fort and color for a while. She wanted a break from being a
n adult.

  But, life didn’t work that way. Knowing she couldn’t hide from reality, she circled back to it. “And you’ll go with me?”

  “How else am I going to protect you?” His gaze danced far too wickedly.

  “Good point.” She dug in, devouring the second piece as fast as she’d done the first one. “It’s black tie.”

  “I’ll have wardrobe send over a tux. What time is your dress being delivered here?”

  “Not here,” she said, her mouth full. She washed the bite down with delicious coffee. Very few made coffee this good. Jeremy’s was the best. “My condo.”

  “Why your condo?”

  “It’s where all my shoes live, even if I don’t right now.”

  “I’ll have TREX pick it up.”

  “They won’t know which shoes to pick.”

  “It’s an unnecessary risk.”

  “So is going to a gala neither one of us want to go to,” she countered and pushed away her empty plate. “I just hope my keys work in the door.”

  Jeremy stiffened, his mug halfway between his mouth and the table. “Your keys aren’t working?”

  His reaction drew the same from her. Her heart now hammering, she asked, “Is that a bad thing?”

  “It’s not good. How long have they not worked?”

  Her brain scrambled to recall the exact moment. “Since right before the reunion.”

  He stood to refill both their cups. “What else seems off?”

  She knew better than to blow off the question. He may not be a field agent, but he was an agent, nonetheless. And he was, after all, Jeremy Bowman. The guy had a mind like Einstein. “You already know about my card not working at the parking garage. Jason told you about the near run in with a taxi. I think that’s about it.”

  “What about your corporate credit card?”

  “How’d you know I lost it?”

  “When was the last time you checked the activity on your account?” He seemed almost reluctant to ask the question. “I check mine at least once a week. I also have alerts on my phone for anything suspicious.”