Gavin pulled at his beard while he wondered how much to say.
“You don’t agree the two could be related,” Caden said. Gavin started, and Caden shot him a tight smile. “I’m trained to read people, remember?”
“And I’m trained to not be read.” Gavin sighed. “Must be getting soft,” he muttered.
“Why don’t you agree?”
“It’s just a theory. Doesn’t mean it’s right.”
“So, let’s hear it.”
“Omar’s a killer,” Gavin said. “He doesn’t try to make things look like a suicide. If he was behind Dustin’s death, he would have sent a suicide bomber and just blown up the hospital floor that Dustin was on. Or an assassin to put a hole in his head. He doesn’t go to the effort to plan his murders to look like suicides.” Caden flinched and Gavin wanted to bite his tongue. “Sorry, man. I shouldn’t have been so blunt.”
“It’s all right. I’m not one to dance around the facts.” A pause. “So, you don’t think Omar could have had anything to do with Dustin’s death?”
Gavin thought about it once more, trying to find a way to make it work. “No, I don’t. At least I can’t come up with a reason he’d choose to do it that way. It’s simply not the way he operates—at least it wasn’t when I was with him. It’s been a little over a year since that bombing.” He rubbed his eyes. “I suppose there’s an infinitesimal possibility that he changed the way he works, but I wouldn’t bet anything on it.”
For a moment, Caden simply stared at the floor and Gavin let him process. The man would speak when he was ready. He took the moment to text his sister.
Hey. Could we find some time to talk, please? Text or call me.
Footsteps sounded to his right, then Sarah appeared in the doorway. As always, she made his heart thud a little faster and a little harder just by being in his presence. He’d almost find it amusing if it didn’t disconcert him so much. Their one and only unforgettable kiss surged to the forefront of his mind, and it took effort to make it go away. Again.
“Hi,” he said, finally finding his tongue. Because he was all about making a good impression with his brilliant conversational skills. He gave a mental roll of his eyes and she quirked a smile at him.
“Hi.”
“What are you doing out of bed?” Caden asked.
“Being very careful.” She pressed a hand to her side and walked over to sit on the sofa next to Gavin. Once seated, she let her gaze touch on him, then Caden. “Don’t stop talking. I want to hear.”
“You just got your stitches out, Sarah, don’t push it.”
“I’m not. Now, what are you talking about?”
Caden rolled his eyes and she stuck her tongue out at him. Gavin couldn’t help the grin that wanted to break out but managed to smother it, even though he thought Sarah might have noticed.
Then she turned serious. “I need you to find her for me,” she said to Caden.
“I’ve already tried, Sarah. She’s not in the system—they’re saying she wasn’t even there.”
“What? Of course she was there. You’re FBI, Cade, try a little harder. I need to know she’s okay.”
“If she was a patient, I would have to use my FBI status to get information. I asked them to ring her room and they said they didn’t have a patient there by that name.”
“So, maybe she went home?”
He sighed. “And you don’t remember her last name?”
“No. She never gave it to me. I saw her. She said her name was Brianne. Dr. Kilgore and the nurse came in, and I was sent back to my room. Approximately forty-five minutes later, Brianne was gone and her room had been sanitized.” She stilled. “Where’s this hesitation in helping me coming from?”
Caden shrugged. “You’re obsessing over a complete stranger. I’m not sure it’s healthy.”
“I’m not obsessing, I’m concerned. And if you’d seen her, you would be too. Now, please, go do your FBI thing and track her down.” She flicked her hand, waving him away.
Gavin’s gaze ping-ponged between the siblings, his regret growing at the distance still between him and his own sister. Kaylynn often appeared like a meek little mouse and used to cry if he so much as looked at her cross-eyed. Which was understandable, he supposed. Even women he’d served with had often given him a wide berth before they’d gotten to know him. Now, Kaylynn didn’t cry. She just avoided him.
Much like Sarah had done. It had taken him aback so much that he’d actually tracked her down to make sure she was all right—and had found her eating and laughing with friends at one of the restaurants on base.
Hurt and confused, he’d left before she saw him.
The whole thing had bothered him because he had a feeling that she’d behaved in a manner completely contrary to the character of the woman he’d been getting to know.
The one who stood her ground and had no trouble voicing her opinions during their many conversations. He’d have thought she would have gone toe-to-toe with him if she felt strongly enough about something.
Like finding out her father had hired Gavin to be her personal secret security team.
Yeah. She’d feel very strongly about that one.
When Gavin focused back on the conversation, Sarah was saying, “You’ll find out if she’s okay and if she needs help.”
“Yes.”
“And you’ll be sneaky if you have to, because you’re apparently really good at that when you choose to be.”
He rolled his eyes. “If it will put your mind at rest.”
“Good. It will help.” A pause. “Thank you.”
“Welcome.” He turned to Gavin. “She’s stubborn.”
Gavin wondered why the man had even bothered to put up a protest. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? From what I can tell, it’s the strongest gene on your DNA strand, so I can see it being a sibling trait.”
Sarah gave a light snort of laughter while Caden’s lips quirked. “That’s probably true,” he said. “Dustin was the same way.”
They fell silent while they battled their grief all over again, and Gavin looked away to give them the shared moment.
Caden cleared his throat and stood, pulled his phone from his pocket, and waved it at Sarah. “If it’s got you this worked up, let me see who else I can talk to that might know more than the last person. Shouldn’t take me too long. And then I’m going to order pizza. Gavin, you can stay and join us if you like.”
“Uh, sure. Thanks.” Well, that was one way to keep an eye on Sarah without too much trouble. And besides, he was hungry.
Once Caden left the room, Gavin turned to Sarah—who’d slumped against the back of the couch. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Tired of answering that question, but . . . yeah.”
“Right. Sorry.”
She grimaced. “I’m also in a cranky mood, but I shouldn’t take that out on you.”
“I can handle it.”
Silence fell between them. “I don’t remember his funeral,” she finally said softly.
“You were there.”
“Barely.”
“You insisted. Threatened to walk if that’s what you had to do.” It had been the day she was released from the hospital with her fever finally under control but apparently back on some heavy-duty painkillers someone had snuck into her IV. She was livid when she finally came to. Gavin recalled the tongue-lashing she’d given Caden when she realized what had happened, and Caden promised to take her home immediately. He’d promised she’d be given no more drugs unless she okayed them.
“I have a picture of the graveside playing in my mind. You rolled me in the wheelchair,” she murmured.
Her gaze was distant, her vision turned inward with her effort to remember. “Uh, yeah. You insisted on that too. You told Caden you knew his driving skills and felt safer if I was the one behind the wheel—so to speak.”
“I remember that.” She closed her eyes. And just like that, fell asleep.
CHAPTER
&n
bsp; EIGHT
She really had to quit waking up with no memory of having fallen asleep. Sarah frowned and mentally scrolled back to the last thing she remembered. Zonking out while talking to Gavin. Great. Why was it always Gavin who was the one to pick up the pieces?
Between passing out twice—and having Gavin save her from what could have been serious injury should she have hit the floor with her head—and falling asleep when she least expected it, she was going to have to start chugging some caffeine or something.
With a sigh, she sat up. If she remembered correctly, she’d also been waiting for Caden to find out about the woman in the room next to hers—Brianne. And wondering how Dustin could have committed suicide. So many questions begging for answers.
She climbed out of bed again with the whole déjà vu thing happening, noticing that she was still in her yoga pants and a long T-shirt. Her stomach rumbled and she took note that she was starving.
And in need of a shower.
Twenty minutes later, with some effort but not as much pain as she’d feared, Sarah made her way to the kitchen where she found Caden and Gavin once again deep in conversation. They stopped talking the moment they saw her.
“Haven’t we done this once today?” she asked.
Caden lifted a brow. “What? Have a conversation while you sleep your life away?”
“Something like that.”
“No. That was yesterday.”
“What?” Sarah was horrified. “I’ve lost another day?” No wonder she was so hungry. She’d missed the pizza. And breakfast.
Gavin shifted. “You were shot twice, Sarah. You’ve got to give yourself time to heal. I tried to wake you up to feed you, but you told me to get lost.”
“I did?”
“Yep. The fact that you slept this long should be a signal for you.”
She touched her still bandaged arm. “This was barely a graze.” Her fingers moved to her side. “And the other . . . well, I can heal later. Now, please, what did you learn about Brianne?” The two men exchanged a glance and she held up a finger. “Oh no, no, no. You don’t get to do that.”
“What?” Gavin asked, innocence radiating from him.
“That,” she said flatly. “No looking at each other and communicating in your silent bro-language.”
Caden snorted and Gavin cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, what kind of language?” Caden asked.
“You know what I mean. Spill it.”
His amusement faded. “All right. I finally went to the top link of the chain at the hospital and was told there wasn’t anyone by that name on the floor, and the room had been unoccupied for the duration of your stay.”
Sarah blinked. Then blinked again. “Uh . . . what? You’re kidding me.”
“I wouldn’t,” Caden said. “Not about this.”
“It’s simply not true,” Sarah said. “Why would they lie about it?”
“I also talked to Dr. Kilgore, and he said he didn’t have any patients by the name Brianne during that time period.”
Disbelief held her stunned. “He’s totally lying. They’re all lying.” She needed to write down the conversation she’d heard between the two men before she forgot it. There was something about it that made her skin crawl.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” She stood, feeling more steady on her feet than she had since the shooting. Finally. Maybe she’d needed that extra sleep, but she’d bite her tongue off before admitting it in front of these two.
Gavin handed her a bagel slathered with strawberry cream cheese, and she took a bite.
“Thank you,” she said around the food.
“Welcome.”
She swallowed. “Did Dr. Kilgore treat Dustin too?”
“No, why?”
“Just wondering. What was Dustin’s doctor’s name?”
“Melissa McCandless. She’s a psychiatrist, not a doc who treats wounds like you had.”
“Right. Of course. That was a stupid question.” She stood and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Caden asked.
“To change clothes.” She left them sitting in the kitchen and marched—okay, more like walked carefully—to Caden’s guest room. After her lovely, refreshing shower, she’d dressed in a clean pair of yoga pants and one of Caden’s T-shirts. Now, she chose a loose-fitting pair of navy-blue pants with an elastic waist and a white-and-navy-striped T-shirt.
After her stay at the hospital in Kabul, her things had been delivered to her father. Caden had picked them up the day of her release and brought her—and her luggage—to his house.
While she was grateful for his care and devotion, she missed her small one-bedroom apartment. Somewhat. Her father had nearly stroked out when she moved into the building located in one of the sketchiest neighborhoods in the city. She could tell he’d actually come close to losing that vise grip he held on his legendary control when he showed up on her doorstep demanding she move home. She’d simply shut the door in his face.
The memory made her smile.
Then she frowned as guilt pierced her. She shouldn’t press his buttons so gleefully, but . . . she did. Getting a rise out of him had become second nature to her in high school.
She pressed her fingers to her eyes. She’d thought she was past that stage in her life, that she’d moved on and put all that rebellion behind her.
I have. I don’t live there because it bugs him. That’s just an added bonus.
She had several reasons for choosing to live in that cramped, crime-infested building. The fact was, she liked her apartment and knew he’d never understand her reasons for wanting to live there. So, she didn’t bother to explain them.
Shoving aside thoughts of her father, she brushed her hair and tried to think of a reason the hospital would deny Brianne had been in the room next to hers. She could understand them saying they couldn’t release medical information, but to deny her very existence? That was just weird.
Once she decided she looked presentable, Sarah made her way to Caden’s office and lifted his spare truck keys from the top right-hand drawer of his desk.
“Going somewhere?”
Sarah’s heart jolted and her head jerked up. Gavin leaned against the doorjamb, lips quirked into that lopsided smile she found herself liking way too much. “Yes. Why?”
“I didn’t think you could drive yet.”
Rats. She dropped the keys back into the drawer and sighed. “I’ll call an Uber then.”
“Why don’t you just ask someone for a ride?”
“Because if you’re referring to the two someones in this house, I know they’ll try and talk me out of it.”
He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. The T-shirt pulled across his chest and the tattoos rippled with the movement. She found it fascinating. “Come on, I’ll take you,” he said.
She blinked. “You will?”
He shot her that one-sided smile again. “You’re a big girl, Sarah. I figure you can make your own decisions. If you want to go to the hospital to ask about Brianne and probably Dustin too, I don’t mind taking you.”
She caught her jaw before it swung open. “Are you a mind reader?”
“Of course not. It’s just a little deductive reasoning. Caden’s questioning and lack of answers didn’t satisfy you, so you want to go get your own.” He shrugged. “You’re an investigative reporter. It’s what you do.” A pause. “It’s what I’d do if I were in your shoes.”
“But . . .” Why was she protesting? “Okay, thank you.”
He did a one-eighty and headed down the hall with an “I’ll be in my truck whenever you’re ready” thrown over his shoulder.
Sarah hurried after him. “Hey, I’m ready now.”
“Don’t you need a purse or something?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I have my phone. It’s got a credit card and my driver’s license in the little pocket attached, so it’s all I need.”
His brow lifted, but he simply held open the door for her
and she slipped through. He followed her to his truck and waited for her to get in the passenger side. “Where’d you get the phone? Caden?”
She nodded. “He pulled some strings and got a copy of my license for me and then gave me one of his old phones.” She shifted and winced, but tried to cover it by pressing her lips together.
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” She shot him a black look and he nodded. “Right. Seems like you’re pretty fluent in bro-language yourself.”
“It’s a matter of survival some days.”
He laughed and shut the door.
Sarah leaned back and closed her eyes, already tired from the walk to the car, but she couldn’t put this off any longer. Dustin’s death had left so many unanswered questions rolling around in her head. And that poor woman’s cries were haunting her. She had to see if there was anything she could do to help her.
Assuming she could even find her.
And she wanted to know who Dustin’s last visitors had been, what they’d talked about, if he’d made any phone calls, gotten any emails or text messages. Because if Dustin had truly jumped off the roof of the hospital under his own power, she had to know what the trigger had been to make him do it.
Caden stood in front of his father’s desk in the house he’d grown up in, once again feeling like a twelve-year-old and trying not to show it. He waited until the general looked up with a raised brow. “Can I help you with something?”
“You got her discharged from the Army.”
“I did.” The man didn’t even blink and Caden bit off a scoff.
“Why?”
“She doesn’t have what it takes to make the Army her career. I managed to save her reputation by getting her an honorable discharge.”
Acceptable Risk Page 7
