by Debra Webb
She nodded, amping up the fear on her face.
He pushed Brandon toward her and turned to hustle back to the van. Merri got a glimpse of the man inside, his weapon trained on her even as the jerk walked away. She yanked Brandon inside, then pulled the door closed.
Relief flooded her, making her legs weak.
“What…the hell did…give him?”
“Let’s go.” She didn’t have time to ask him to repeat what he’d said. Instead, she started backing across the lobby, Brandon in tow. Before they reached the halfway mark, two dark vans barreled into the small lot and SWAT personnel spilled from the open doors.
A satisfied smile tickled her lips. “That’s how the game is played,” she muttered to herself. Chalk one up for the Colby Agency.
A burst of light and flame split the darkness.
The floor shook beneath her feet.
The official personnel in black charging forward were tossed about and thrown to the ground.
Merri stared in disbelief at what was left of the white van. Mangled metal and fierce flames shooting toward the night sky were all that remained.
The van had exploded with the two would-be killers inside.
How was that possible? Would the two men have pushed some sort of self-destruct button just to protect the person in charge?
That didn’t seem possible. Yet it had happened.
And she still had no proof that Brandon was innocent. Their one lead had just gone up in flames.
Chapter Five
Christmas Eve, 2:15 a.m.
Brandon felt as if he were sitting in a corner after being caught cutting class. The investigator who’d willingly took his case, Merri Walters, and her associates were squaring off in the conference room of the Colby Agency.
The one named Simon Ruhl agreed with Merri’s conclusion that whoever had sent those men, possibly some of the ones Brandon and Merri had glimpsed at the warehouse, were more than prepared to finish the job. The authorities had confirmed that two bodies were discovered amid the remains of the van.
Brandon swallowed back the lump of anxiety clogging his throat. He would be dead right now if not for Merri’s quick thinking.
She had saved his life. The risk she had chosen to take was the only one that would have worked. Period. It had been a shot in the dark but the only one they’d had. Her associate, Ruhl, had played his hand with the SWAT folks perfectly. Yet the end result had backfired.
Brandon had to come clean with Merri soon. She’d risked a hell of a lot to help him and the job wasn’t finished yet. He owed her an explanation. He’d watched how she analyzed him. How she rephrased questions to help him respond rationally. She suspected there was a problem in how he processed information.
She deserved the whole truth.
“This is a mistake,” Ian Michaels announced. He was totally against Merri continuing to handle Brandon’s case alone. The aloof man had scarcely spared Brandon a glance. Not that Brandon could blame him. Not really. He’d rushed into the agency’s offices without checking in with security. Then he’d been the cause of one investigator being abducted along with him. And if that wasn’t enough, he’d generated havoc in the agency’s parking lot. Two more people were dead. Good or bad, dead was dead.
Talk about getting off on the wrong foot.
“We have the clues,” Merri argued. “All we have to do at this point is see where they lead us. We have to know what we’re up against before taking measures to protect our client.”
“Not exactly a stellar starting place,” Michaels argued. “Our client is a homicide suspect with killers right on his heels. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re dealing with professionals here. Not some fired-up bad guys who want to interfere with whatever this Randolph fellow was up to. This is no mere grudge, Ms. Walters. This is serious. Very serious.
“As we’ve deducted,” he continued before Merri could react verbally, “there will be more. Friends or associates of the dead men, perhaps. Whoever comes after Mr. Thomas next time won’t take any chances. They will learn from this mistake and shoot first, then ask questions later.”
“I would agree with you,” Merri countered quickly, “but if the goal is to gain access to the evidence, taking us alive will be the ultimate objective in any scenario. Don’t you agree?”
“I agree,” Ruhl offered, his posture and tone far more amiable than his colleague’s. “Our only option, as I see it, is that you and Mr. Thomas plunge into your search for the video and/or written evidence while we run interference from this end. The police will be all over this.”
Michaels pushed out of his chair and walked to the window. He thrust his hands into his pockets and leaned a hip on the window ledge.
Brandon couldn’t help holding his breath. Though Mr. Ruhl appeared to want to allow Merri to help Brandon, Michaels seemed to be the one with the power to make the ultimate decision. Not good for Brandon.
“That could work,” Michaels agreed, “except we have no evidence of who these men were. We don’t know who hired them. We don’t even know what they’re after.” He sent a pointed look at Brandon. “We don’t actually know anything except that three men are dead.”
“Finding the answers to those questions,” Merri insisted, drawing her superior’s intense scrutiny once more, “is the only way to clear Brandon of the murder as well as keep him alive.”
“You’re certain that’s what you want to do?” Michaels asked Merri, his tone less stern. His expression was almost compassionate. “Despite the stumbling block that could prove detrimental to your survival as well as his?”
They stared at each other for a full ten seconds. “Yes.” Merri stood her ground. “I am fully capable of conducting this investigation.”
Brandon couldn’t help wondering if that last exchange had been about him and his personal situation. It sure as hell sounded as if that was the case.
“Well, then,” Michaels pushed off the ledge, looked directly at Merri, “I suppose you should get started. I’m certain whoever hired those men is fully aware what has occurred and likely has this building under surveillance as we speak.”
Brandon blocked the worry that accompanied those very true words. Maybe he should just try to find Kick’s stuff alone. This nightmare had put Merri in serious danger already. He shouldn’t be dragging anyone else into this, not after all that had happened. His mind kept playing the apartment and van explosions over and over in his head.
But could he do this alone?
The answer was easy—no. Obviously Merri had already warned her associates as to the severity of Brandon’s personal challenge. That pointed exchange between her and Michaels left no question. She’d figured it out on her own. Brandon should have just told her from the start. But he hadn’t.
He’d learned the hard way that discovering his challenge changed people’s perspective about him. They saw nothing else after that. He already had enough black marks against him, considering he was the only suspect in his roommate’s murder and he had no real idea what this whole thing was really about. Anything more, and he was sure Merri wouldn’t want his case at all. It was a miracle that she did at this point.
“First,” Ruhl suggested, “we have to get the two of you out the door under the radar of anyone who might be watching.”
Despite the decision to take his case, the two men continued to speak directly to Merri. Brandon supposed he should be thankful he wasn’t on his own with this. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if he’d been forced to walk out the door with no support from the Colby Agency. He could deal with them acting as if he weren’t in the room and speaking directly to Merri.
The agency’s reputation was what had brought him here. He’d heard Kick talk about the best private investigators in the nation and the Colby Agency had ranked right up there at the top. Chances were he would never have remembered the remark, except that when he left the precinct after being interrogated for hours he’d noticed a business card on the ground while waiting
at the bus stop.
The Most Private Of Investigations: The Colby Agency.
Brandon had known what he had to do.
“Let’s go,” Merri said to him.
He hadn’t realized she had walked up to where he sat. He blinked, pushed to his feet. “What happens now?” He’d heard the decision, but he couldn’t recall the sequence of events as outlined by Mr. Ruhl.
“Two more cars are on the way to the rear entrance. Slade Convoy and Ted Tallant will pull up behind Ian’s car at the rear entrance. You’ll exchange coats with Ian, then you, Ian and I will load into the three different vehicles, taking different directions. We’ll rendezvous when it’s safe to do so.”
Brandon hesitated, giving Michaels and Ruhl time to leave the room since they were on their way out anyway. He searched Merri’s face then. “Are you sure you want to do this?” There was something about her…the way she ignored him when she chose. As if she hadn’t heard whatever he’d said or noticed something that had happened. But then, he had been in a full-blown panic most of the evening. It was possible that he was reading between lines that weren’t there.
Merri placed a hand on his arm. She’d done that a couple of times tonight. Brandon couldn’t remember when a mere touch had given him so much confidence. It was as if she understood him thoroughly—which wasn’t possible. She didn’t know the truth, didn’t know his awful secret. With each passing moment, sharing that awful part of who he was became more difficult.
“Don’t worry,” she assured him when he definitely didn’t deserve her assurance, “we’ll figure this out. The Colby Agency is the best. We’ll find the truth and see that the person responsible for Kick’s murder pays.”
Fear nagged at Brandon. When she discovered a certain truth about him, would she still want to be a part of this?
He nodded. “All right.”
She flashed him one last smile and headed for the door.
Why the hell didn’t he just tell her?
“Merri!”
She kept walking, disappearing into the corridor.
He shook his head and went after her. Maybe the fact that she hadn’t heard him was a sign for him to keep his mouth shut for now. Too bad he didn’t believe in those kinds of signs.
Images from his apartment…finding his roommate dead on the floor…all the blood. He’d tried to help Kick but it had been too late. Then the explosion. Two explosions, no less.
He was friendless…homeless.
Damn. His feet slowed, allowing Merri to get even farther ahead of him. Kick was dead. And he had no place to go when this was over.
Assuming he was still alive when it was over.
MERRI CHECKED HER PURSE once more to see that she’d gotten everything she needed. Cell phone—she kept a backup in her desk. Weapon. Her fingers glided over the smooth steel. She’d thought those days were over. The Colby Agency had an outstanding record when it came to solving cases without excessive force. Just her luck to get the case that was the exception. She had cash. And a few other toys Simon had ensured she took with her. GPS, couple of communication devices, and two tracking devices—all miniscule in size. Except for the GPS, it was about the size of her cell phone.
She was good to go.
Simon tapped her on the arm. She met his expectant gaze. “Ian finally lost his tail,” he explained.
“Excellent.”
Ian had insisted on being Brandon’s driver. Ted Tallant had ridden with him in case he needed backup in the way of firepower. Slade Convoy had driven his own vehicle.
Apparently whoever had been watching the agency had decided that Ian was Brandon, since he’d been wearing Brandon’s coat and he had dark hair, a little long like the other man’s. Ted had used Merri’s coat to cover his head and the upper part of his body. Since the guy was seriously taller than Merri, she was surprised those conducting the surveillance had been fooled. Then again, Brandon was the target. More likely they had decided to follow him whether Merri was with him or not.
The three vehicles would rendezvous at Lincoln Park. Merri and Brandon would take Simon’s car and go to the Colby safe house.
Off the beaten path and near the water, the place was a palace. Built when Victoria’s son was a child, the house had stood empty for many, many years. It was only the last few years that Victoria and her family had started to use it again for weekend getaways. There were a lot of bad memories there. Jim, Victoria’s son, had gone missing from that yard.
Just went to show that beauty and elegance couldn’t protect a person when evil lurked nearby.
The house was a state-of-the-art fortress now. Merri and Brandon would be safe there, for sure. The time and space they needed for getting to the bottom of this puzzle would be available. Bridget Turner, a research analyst at the agency, had been assigned to work on putting the few lines together or sorting out possible meanings. Merri didn’t hold out much hope for any real results. She was certain the answers lay one place only—Brandon Thomas’s head. She had to find a way to draw out the meanings behind those phrases. Randolph wouldn’t have used those phrases if they hadn’t meant something to Brandon.
All she had to do was figure out how those pieces fit into the puzzle of his life.
That thought dragged her back to the idea that something wasn’t quite right with Brandon. She had her suspicions but she couldn’t be sure. Not one hundred percent. Pushing him for an answer would only make him question her. He’d noticed something was off with her, but the situation hadn’t allowed for follow-up.
It was coming.
She understood that with complete certainty.
Simon braked to a stop along the sidewalk on a deserted stretch of street. Ian’s sedan was already parked up the block. Slade’s sedan eased to a stop some thirty or so feet behind Simon’s.
Simon turned to Merri. “Do not hesitate to call upon me if you need anything at all. Research will be in touch regarding what they turn up.”
Merri nodded. “Thank you for backing me up.”
The man she felt closer to than anyone else at the agency smiled. “Don’t make me regret it.”
With that he emerged from the car and walked toward where Ian had parked. Merri got out and went around to the driver’s side. She didn’t miss the look Ian sent her way. The streetlight didn’t allow her to overlook the worry on his face. He didn’t like this one bit.
Wearing his own coat once more, Brandon joined her. “Can you tell me where we’re going? Mr. Michaels didn’t have much to say on the way here.”
Merri nodded to the car. “Let’s get going. I’ll explain on the way.”
As she drove away from the rendezvous point, she didn’t look back. She didn’t need to. Ian and Simon would still be debating this decision. She had to do this right so Ian would at last fully trust her. More important, she couldn’t let Simon down.
Any more than she could Brandon.
Merri tried her best to fill every second of the trip with dialogue. If she gave Brandon an opportunity to speak he would notice that she didn’t hear him. Only when she stopped at an intersection did she pause and look his way, inviting his comments.
“I suppose you’re right,” he allowed, “Michaels was a little busy evading that tail. It probably wasn’t personal.”
“Exactly.” When she’d run out of anything else to tell him about the safe house, she’d explained that Ian likely hadn’t been slighting him en route, but had focused on the task at hand.
“Here we are,” she announced as she made the final turn to the safe house address. She’d only been here once. She entered the code for the gate, then glanced at her passenger as the gates slid open.
“Wow…”
“I had the same reaction the first time I came here.” Though she didn’t catch all that he’d said, judging by what she could see of his expression, he was impressed. She had already explained about Victoria’s family, including the harrowing years her son was missing.
“Housekeeping came while we
were en route and stocked the kitchen and anything else we might need. Like clothes and toiletries.” She was thankful for that since she could definitely use a shower and clean clothes.
As she rounded the hood to meet Brandon in front of the parked car, he said, “The Colby Agency thinks of everything.”
“We try.”
At the front entrance she entered the security code that she had memorized, then pressed her thumb to the scanner for final identification. No key was required. Only the code and an authenticated fingerprint. Simple, yet nearly impossible to breach.
Inside she closed the door and reset the alarm. She turned in time to see Brandon’s lips moving. “…Colby must be rich.”
“Victoria has worked a lot of years to reach this point of financial comfort.” Merri had a great deal of respect for the woman. She hadn’t been born into this level of wealth. She and both her husbands had worked hard to reach this pinnacle. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”
The house had a number of bedrooms. Clients were usually housed in the far room upstairs, leaving the others—closer to the staircase—for their protectors, in this case for Merri.
The light was on in the last bedroom down the long hall on the second floor. Two changes of clothes, in addition to toiletries and sleepwear, were carefully laid out on the bed.
Merri didn’t have to look to know that the clothes would be the correct size. She’d estimated Brandon’s sizes and passed them along to Simon.
Brandon was talking again, his attention still focused on the items spread across the luxurious bed.
“What?” She stepped closer, waiting for him to turn his face toward her.
He shrugged. “I was just saying that this is incredible.” He searched her eyes. “You know, I didn’t even ask.” His mouth worked a moment before readable words were formed. “I’m not sure I can afford your fee. I should have asked before—” he gestured to the room at large “—all this.” His arms dropped to his sides. “Before you risked your life.” The regret in his expression dug at her heart.
