by Janie Crouch
“Look, I’m a little tired. Maybe we should just take a break.”
Brandon’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at her from where he straddled her hips. “Make me.”
“I’m serious, Brandon.”
The hand that held her throat squeezed a little tighter. Not enough to hurt or cut off her breath. Just enough to make the threat a little real.
She did what he had taught her but her movements were jerky and halfhearted.
“That’s not going to be enough. With this move it’s not enough to just go through the correct motions. You’ve got to have some strength behind it. Some fire.”
She tried again but the results were the same.
“That’s not enough, sweetheart. You’ve got to do this move like you’ve got nothing left to lose.”
She tried again, chest heaving in frustration when she couldn’t budge him.
“Don’t call me ‘sweetheart,’” she spit out.
“Why?”
“Because you don’t think I’m sweet. You think I’m dirty.”
“That’s right, sweetheart. I’m the jackass who judged you for doing your job the last two nights. I’m the jerk who turned away from you when you needed me to help anchor you. I’m the idiot—”
Andrea let out a cry and did it. Broke his hold, flipped her body around so she was on top of him. As he hit the ground his air rushed out with a whoosh.
She threw her head back and laughed. “I did it!” She was amazed at the sense of accomplishment.
She felt Brandon’s hands resting on her knees. “Yeah, you did. Good job.”
She wasn’t ready for him to sit up quickly and wrap his arms around her hips, crushing his chest against hers. He buried his face in her neck.
“How I’ve acted the last two days, what I thought... I was so wrong, sweetheart.”
“Brandon—”
“And you’re wrong. I don’t think you’re dirty. I think you’re amazing, beautiful, sweet. Seeing you in the club was hard, I’ll admit. But it was my problem, not yours. You were doing a job. And did it damn well.”
She grabbed his face so she could pull him back. He needed to understand. “When I worked before, I wore just as skimpy an outfit. Less, if I was the one onstage. And when I waited tables, I’ll admit I flirted to get tips. Encouraged glances and even some touches. I didn’t like it but I did it.”
He brought his lips reverently to hers. “You did what you had to in order to survive. Being smart enough to work the system to your advantage is not something to be ashamed of. And I promise, I will never make the mistake of judging you for it again.”
“But some of what you felt was probably correct.”
“Sweetheart, nothing of what I felt was correct. And you’ve got to stop letting your own head think it was correct, also.”
She sighed. “That’s easier said than done.”
“I spoke to Drackett and he said to give you his personal and professional congratulations for a job well done.”
“You spoke to Steve?”
“Last night. And for the record, I agree with him.”
“I thought you’d never want to touch me again. That you found me distasteful.”
She felt his arms wrap more strongly around her waist before he used his powerful leg muscles to stand up in one fluid motion while still holding her.
“Trust me when I say, I find you more and more tasteful each day I know you.” Keeping her legs wrapped around his hips, he carried her back into the bedroom and proceeded to show her.
Chapter Nineteen
If Brandon could’ve spent all day in bed with Andrea, he would’ve. He did his best to apologize with both words and actions, trying to say with his body what he wasn’t sure she could hear with his words.
He didn’t let himself think too much about why it was so important for him to repair what he’d damaged with her. That would lead to too many questions about the future. About how things could never go back to being the same between them at Omega after this case.
The warrior had the woman he craved by his side. That was enough for now.
But they couldn’t stay in bed all day, because they still had a killer to catch.
And they were both pretty hungry despite their breakfast.
Andrea was making sandwiches when Brandon came out of the shower. He could tell by the way she moved across the kitchen that she was feeling lighter, happier. The shadows were gone from her eyes.
He should be surprised that she was more attractive with no makeup and messy hair, dancing around in shorts and a loose T-shirt, but he wasn’t. Andrea’s natural beauty would always outshine what she could do with makeup and a brush.
She felt his presence and turned to smile at him. “Lunch,” she said, handing him a plate.
The silence during their meal this time was easy and light. Unlike before. They were washing dishes together when Andrea caught him off guard with her question.
“Hey, do you know who a guy named Damian Freihof is?”
Brandon stilled. She instantly picked up on his nonverbals, stilling and tensing herself.
“What?” she asked.
“Why do you ask who he is?”
“That box my aunt gave me with my stuff. It contained like fifty letters from a Damian Freihof. I have no idea who that is. I think he’s got me confused with someone else and has for a long time. I only opened one letter, but they all had the same name and return address on the envelope.”
“Can I see them?”
“Do you know him?”
Brandon wouldn’t lie to her. He hadn’t thought keeping her in the dark about Freihof was a good idea, although he’d agreed because he’d thought there hadn’t been any link between Andrea and Freihof since he went away to prison.
But evidently there were fifty links between them.
Steve had been wrong when he thought Freihof had forgotten about Andrea. He sure as hell hadn’t forgotten her if he’d written her that many times.
“Yes, I do know who he is. And you do, too. You just don’t know that you do.”
Andrea’s eyes narrowed and he could see her trying to remember. “Was he part of a case I worked? I can’t place the name.”
“Damian Freihof was one of the three bank robbers/hostage takers you helped stop on the day you met Steve Drackett.”
He hated how stress began to fill her body again. “The third guy. The evil one.”
“He was the one mostly kept out of the original press reports because of the ties he had with some other bombers and terrorist organizations. We were going to try to use him to catch some bad guys even higher on the food chain, but he decided he’d rather serve a double life sentence.”
“Well, evidently he decided to make me his pen pal from prison. That’s kind of creepy.”
“What did the letter you read say?”
She shrugged. “Nothing threatening. Just that he wished he could’ve gotten to know me better and looks forward to the time we’ll eventually spend together.” She shuddered. “That’s really frightening now that I know who he is.”
“I need to send the letters to Omega, if that’s okay. Get someone to check them out.”
Andrea shrugged. “Sure. I don’t want to read them. Why would Omega want them? Freihof is already serving two life sentences. They’re probably not going to find much in the letters that will keep him in jail longer than that.”
Brandon put his hands on both her arms. “Freihof escaped from federal custody last week during a prison transfer. Nobody knows where he is.”
* * *
ANDREA COULD FEEL all the blood leave her face. “He escaped?”
“Yes.” Brandon pulled her in for a hug and she leaned into him for a moment, needing his streng
th.
Damian Freihof. That was the name of the face that haunted her dreams over the past four years. She had never forgotten his eyes and the evil that had radiated from him in that bank.
She’d asked Steve about him after she’d gone to work for Omega since she’d never heard anything about him in the news. Drackett had assured her that the third man had been arrested, had just been kept out of the press for national-security reasons.
She pulled back from Brandon. “Steve knows Freihof escaped.”
“Yes, and we’ve been keeping our eyes and ears to the ground for info about him. But Steve didn’t think Freihof would come after you.”
“Why would Steve even think that was a possibility? Before the letters, I wouldn’t have thought it was.”
Brandon’s lips pursed. “During and after his trial, Freihof mentioned coming after you.”
“What?”
Brandon shrugged. “Drackett didn’t really take it too seriously. Freihof was in custody and he was mad that he was going to jail for the next eighty years. Steve figured the guy was just running his mouth. He also mentioned wanting to kill some other people.”
“Why didn’t Steve tell me?”
“Freihof was in jail. You were safe.”
Andrea took a step back. “But then he got out of jail. Steve should’ve told me then.”
Brandon held out a hand, entreating. “I agree, and even told him so. But this was right as you were coming back here. Steve felt like you had enough on your plate already.”
“Well, the last letters are postmarked as late as two weeks ago.”
“That’s why we need to get them to Omega and see what we can find from them.”
“Does anybody know where he is now?”
“He was briefly spotted in Texas. Probably heading to Mexico.”
Andrea thought about all the times she’d felt someone watching her over the past few days.
“What about the lightning-storm guy? That could’ve been Freihof.”
Brandon nodded and pulled her back into his arms. “Yes, it could’ve been. But he would’ve been taking a huge chance by coming here after you right now. Steve agrees. He’s probably heading south.”
“So I don’t need to worry about him?” That was definitely not going to happen.
“I won’t lie to you. Freihof definitely needs to be worried about. Your safety is something Steve and I will be having a heart-to-heart about when we’re back at Omega. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, even if it means moving you in with me.” She could feel his kisses in her hair. “I just don’t think we have to worry about him right at this moment.”
Andrea could feel warmth pooling through her. After the brittle cold that had settled on her insides the past couple of days, this felt wonderful. Having someone really care about her felt wonderful. And Brandon had mentioned Omega for the first time, as if what was happening between them would continue.
The thought was both thrilling and terrifying.
She pulled back to look at him, this man who had brought out so many emotions in her over the past week.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing. Just thinking about life after this case for a second. Realizing that you know just about every single thing there is to know about me, but I don’t know much about you.”
“You know that I can be a conceited ass who refuses to see the truth that’s right in front of him.”
She smiled. “Yeah, but I mean the less obvious stuff.”
He reached down and bit at her ear in retaliation, then leaned back against the kitchen counter, pulling her with him. “Okay, what do you want to know?”
“How’d you end up at Omega?”
“I was pretty fortunate when I was growing up. My parents realized early that I needed more intellectual challenge than most kids my age or I started acting out physically. That got me on the right path—graduated high school a little early, then found that studying human behavior interested me most.”
“So you got a few degrees in it.”
He shrugged casually. “Well, schooling came pretty easily to me when I was interested in the subject matter.”
“How’d you jump from the academic world to Omega?”
“My best friend since high school, David Vickars. He and I were pretty different in a lot of ways. He was more of an action man. I always tended to think things through and find the most logical solution. He never even went to college. Got all the education he needed from the army, he told me. Anyway, he started working for Omega eight years ago. Pulled me in not long afterward.”
Andrea couldn’t see his face, the way he was holding her from behind, but could feel the tension, the sadness.
“You guys were partners.”
“Yep. A great team, right up until he died a year ago.”
“I’m so sorry, Brandon.” She turned in his arms so she could face him.
“Me, too. Dave was a good man. Knew when to bend the rules and when to break them. Knew how to keep me in check.”
“Do you need to be kept in check a lot?”
Andrea could see the different flecks of emotion cross over his face: sadness, resignation, fear, anger.
“The difference between you and I, sweetheart, is that you have a crooked past but a sweet, pure soul. I’m the opposite—a perfect past with a crooked soul.”
Andrea’s eyes flew up to his. “What? No, that’s not true.”
He tucked her hair gently behind both her ears. “Despite all your talents, I’m not sure you can see it because I keep it buried pretty deep. But I think David knew. He always did. That’s why he dragged me with him to Omega.”
“Knew what?”
“That I’ve got a darkness in me somewhere. Everything I learned about human behavior and criminal justice in school? I might have used that to be on the opposite side of serial killing if David hadn’t gotten me involved with the right side of the law.”
Andrea could tell that what Brandon said was true. Or at least he believed it to be so. “You’re excellent at your job.”
“I’m fascinated by getting inside the head of a killer and figuring out why they do what they do. What mistakes they might make and catching them.”
Andrea had no doubt that the beautiful, brilliant man standing with his arms around her could kill someone and get away with it.
He wouldn’t make any mistakes.
“With Dave around it was easy to ignore the darkness, to stay out of my own head and stay in the heads of others. Solve crimes. Fight the bad guys. But this last year it’s been more difficult.” His voice faded to a hushed stillness.
She realized his current demons haunted him as much as her past demons haunted her. He’d kept them a secret from everyone, just as she had.
“I won’t let the darkness overtake you,” she whispered.
He stiffened, and she was afraid he was going to pull away, maybe even scoff.
Instead, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist and he pulled her to him in a crushing hug, burying his face in her hair. She could feel his breath against her neck, his heart beating against hers.
They held each other for a long while, their embrace keeping all the demons away.
Chapter Twenty
A call came that afternoon from Lance Kendrick at the county sheriff’s department. They had found the full phone number from the note Keira had provided.
Jillian Spires had been in contact with Jarrod McConnachie.
Brandon cursed, bringing the receiver down and putting it on speaker so Andrea could hear, too. “Yeah, we talked to him the day after we arrived in town. He was at a local bar, The Boar’s Nest, with some of his buddies.”
“We were talking to him because he was friends with Noelle Brumby.
So that ties him to two of the victims right away,” Andrea said.
“He’s also attended at least some of DJ Shocker’s club tour. We found him in some footage,” Kendrick informed them. “So there’s another tie-in.”
“Damn it,” Brandon muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “To think we’d been so close to him from the very beginning.”
“Andrea, is it possible the man you saw in the lightning could’ve been McConnachie?” Kendrick asked.
She shrugged. “Yes. Jarrod would be the correct build and weight. It was dark. I was a little freaked out. I didn’t get as much detail as I should have.”
Brandon slipped an arm around her shoulders. “What’s the next step, Kendrick?”
“We’ve got an APB out on McConnachie. As soon as he’s spotted, he’ll be arrested. We’ve also got a warrant to search his place of residence, which ends up is his mother’s house. This guy is quite the loser, seems like.”
Brandon didn’t disagree. “Can we meet your men there?”
“Sure. I’m coming, too.” He gave them the address, an isolated area just outside of town.
“We’ll see you there in a few.”
Brandon disconnected the call.
“Jarrod McConnachie?” Andrea shook her head. “I have to admit, I didn’t see that. If it’s him, he completely fooled me at the bar on Tuesday.”
Brandon nodded. “Me, too. He seemed too sloppy and disorganized. Let’s go see what we find at his house.”
McConnachie’s house, or actually Mrs. McConnachie’s house, was a small ranch outside of Buckeye. It was in surprisingly good shape based on what they knew about Jarrod, who didn’t have a job and spent a lot of his time at bars.
Neither Mrs. McConnachie nor Jarrod were home, but a ranch worker who didn’t speak much English and looked very nervous when the police showed up let them into the house.
They searched Jarrod’s room first. Brandon and Andrea stood to the side observing as Kendrick and his men methodically looked through the room. It was what you would expect a room of someone who was in his midtwenties, yet didn’t have a job and still lived with his mother would look like: unmade bed, collection of high school sports trophies sitting on the shelves, clothes strewn all around.
