LINKED (The Bening Files Book 1)

by Rachel Trautmiller

  Robinson shook his head. “I don’t envy you, dude.”

  “Thanks for the sympathy.”

  “Did you know McKenna applied for CIRG and HRT up at Quantico? I recommended her for the position.”

  “Why are you telling me?”

  “Figured it might not be so bad if she moved away from here.”

  Away from him. Away from the drama of his past and present. Far from where he could protect her. Or watch her reactions as she dealt with him on a daily basis. “You think the distance of a state will do any good?”

  “Eighty percent of the time, Birmingham’s following you—your cases, your personal life, not McKenna.”

  “That twenty percent still matters.”

  “He’s got an inside source somewhere feeding him info. He’s not stupid enough to physically follow you. Whatever he’s after, it’s important. He’s not blind. He’ll use McKenna to get it. When it comes to her safety, you’re predictable.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” It was time for him to quit waiting for something to happen. If Birmingham wanted to play, Jordan would find a way to outsmart him. “Where’s McKenna?”

  “Starbucks. Birmingham ran into her inside.” Robinson pulled to a halt alongside an ambulance and two squad cars parked outside of the coffee shop. “He collapsed. Might have been a heart attack.”

  Jordan jumped out of the vehicle. His stomach clenched, but he turned back toward Robinson. “Dig up her grave.” He shut the door.

  Hadn’t he been waiting for something like this to happen to Birmingham? Where was his rush of relief? He pushed through the crowd that gathered around the café. If Birmingham didn’t live, Jordan would never know the truth. Ironic. He despised a man he couldn’t make disappear, but when that same man looked death in the face, Jordan couldn’t rejoice.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” A husky, male police officer stepped in front of him. “We got enough people in there.”

  Jordan flashed his badge, kept walking. “FBI.”

  He met the paramedics at the door. McKenna walked alongside the stretcher. Birmingham’s face looked pale and his eyes remained closed. Wires and tubes ran from him, connecting to clear bags, and beeping, flashing machines. Jordan would’ve given anything to have seen his mother this way. With tubes and monitors—a fighting chance—instead of covered in her own blood, her body unnaturally still.

  “What happened,” he asked one of the paramedics.

  “You family?”

  Birmingham opened his eyes a bit. They focused on Jordan, then closed. Jordan glanced back toward the paramedic. “I’m his son.”

  McKenna froze. She looked between him and Birmingham.

  “He’s stable right now. That woman saved his life.” The paramedic pointed to McKenna. “We’re taking him to Mercy hospital.” They lifted Birmingham into the ambulance and closed the doors.

  McKenna stepped next to him as the ambulance drove off. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t touch him. Didn’t ask for an explanation. She stood there like people do at funerals, quiet and somber.

  Why did the good people die, while the bad ones kept on living?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Jordan hadn’t said one word since the incident at Starbucks.

  McKenna hadn’t pushed the issue, but shoved him toward her rental car figuring a drive might help.

  She drove past the hospital. No response.

  She drove past his mother’s grave. Nothing.

  She drove past his childhood home and a dozen other places she thought might spark his interest and get him talking. He sat in the passenger’s seat with a stony expression, his body rigid. An hour later, she gave up, parked in front of her parent’s house, and turned off the ignition.

  A part of her didn’t want to sympathize with him. Didn’t want the icy wall she’d built to keep Jordan out, to thaw completely. It would mean an indefinite end to the outrage she’d claimed as hers since that morning in Las Vegas. And the beginning of taking some of the blame.

  Jordan expelled a breath. “Your dad’s pretty ticked with me.”

  “I think my dad is the least of your worries. Besides, one look at you, and he’ll take pity. You’re a mess.”

  “I pushed Rupert a little harder than I should have.” His voice was muffled, like he had a cold. “I accused him of killing his mother out of rage.”

  “Did you get the answer you were expecting?”

  “If he did it, he’s a good liar. Why hide whatever he was doing if it was legit? One minute he wants our help and the next he’s obstructing the investigation.” Jordan stared at her as if she had all the answers concerning Rupert. “That vase—”

  “I-I chose a really poor time to tell you.”

  A look of guilt passed over Jordan’s face. “They’re going to dig up my mother’s grave. I gave Robinson the okay.”

  A bowling ball dropped to the pit of her stomach. McKenna had no idea what to say. One word bounced around in her head. Why? No matter how much she wanted to voice the question, her lips wouldn’t form the words. She shouldn’t have to ask. She should have been privy to that information already, but, as usual, she was on the outside looking in.

  Wasn’t that the motto she’d inherently taken up since Jordan had disappeared?

  “There have been some inconsistencies.” His eyes never left hers, the intensity a bit unnerving. “I know it’s unlikely, but I can’t stop thinking about those hands. They belong to somebody.”

  Whoa. Okay. If Cassidy’s hands were missing, that could mean…everything. And nothing all at the same time. “What’s the motive for that?” She didn’t expect an answer from Jordan. “What if those bones don’t belong to her?”

  He turned toward her parent’s house, his face returning to the nonchalant mask she’d grown accustomed to since his return to her life.

  “I’ll let you know what happens.”

  He’d given her an inch, and she wanted the proverbial mile.

  He clasped his hands behind his head, let out a slow breath. “I can’t believe you gave him CPR.”

  McKenna let the subject change. Pinning Jordan down and getting every imaginable answer wasn’t possible. The man was a Rubik cube, one wrong move destroyed hours of careful work. “What was I supposed to do? Let him die?”

  “Listen.” Jordan turned toward her. “I’m only going to say this once. I wouldn’t say it at all, but I don’t want you thinking I’m some heartless jerk because I didn’t go to the hospital. Garrett Birmingham is nothing more than a sperm donor to me. He’s never acted like a father. And he won’t get the privileges of one. Not from me. Ever.”

  “Are you saying you wouldn’t have performed CPR?”

  “Honestly?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know.”

  McKenna knew he’d have done it. Now wasn’t the time to point that out. “You’re not even curious about his condition?”

  “No.”

  McKenna picked lint off her pants. “Six months ago I dealt with a hostage situation. The perp was a black belt in karate. Knew Tae Kwan Do. Studied just about every brand of Martial Arts out there. He had a small business selling illegal arms. And he was an expert with a machete. Before we managed to rescue the hostage, one of those machetes found its way into my arm.” She pushed her sleeve past her elbow, revealing a pink scar two inches long on her forearm. “Didn’t get out of the way fast enough. He taunted me for it. I fired my gun right on target. He spent a week in the hospital before going to prison.”

  “Are we swapping wound stories now?” Jordan’s hand circled her wrist as he traced the scar. “It looks deep.”

  McKenna swallowed and tried to focus on her story, but the warmth from his touch radiated upward. “I, ah, went to see him at the hospital to prove I was still standing, that his best attempts to mess with me wouldn’t keep me from my job. From my life.”

  Jordan’s hand traveled up to her elbow where another, older scar lay. “When you fell through those stairs, that
summer, I thought for sure you’d cracked your head open.”

  “Just my, ah...” What was he touching? “Elbow.”

  “I remember feeling terrible. I checked every wooden surface of those stairs after that.” His eyes locked on hers.

  When he looked at her like that—all quiet brooding and protective male instincts on his sleeve, she couldn’t think. “It wasn’t your fault.” She pulled herself together. “Stop changing the subject.”

  “This isn’t open for discussion, McKenna. Nothing you say will make me want to step foot in that hospital.” He stopped touching her arm, cleared his throat. “Your parents won’t wait forever.”

  “I can think of several topics I’d rather discuss.”

  Jordan glared at her. His eyes flashed, making them a deeper blue. “Let’s stick with a problem we can solve.”

  “You know, the truth will only make them angrier.”

  “I respect them too much to lie to them.”

  “You didn’t seem to have a problem when my dad asked you about it.”

  “I didn’t lie. I never got a chance to answer. And I’ve been doing my best to avoid your dad ever since. It hasn’t been easy considering he’s called me almost every day.”

  McKenna glanced toward the house. “Think there’s any chance he’ll remember I’m twenty-seven and be semi-okay with all this?”

  “Judging from the earful I got this morning? No. Not in this lifetime.”

  She rested her head against the seat. “Think they’d believe we fell in love and couldn’t stop ourselves from getting married?”

  “Yeah. Sure. We’ve been in contact for years and you never told them. Then we decided to meet up in Vegas. You needed to get over Rupert and I…”

  “You what? Why were you in Vegas?”

  “I’m not hearing any denials about the ex.”

  “Someone sounds jealous.” That thought shouldn’t make her happy. But of course it did, stupid girl that she was. “Quit changing the subject. You follow a case out there?”

  “Yeah, six months ago. Stayed on and did some related consulting work. And before you ask, yes, I knew you were there. I wanted to catch up, not get married.”

  Could she take Amanda’s advice and ask why he’d chosen that day to look her up? Was she ready for the answers? In her opinion, nothing would explain the fact that he owned a house in Charlotte, minutes from hers, and never stopped by. “We need a plan. Any ideas?”

  Jordan rolled his eyes. “Forget cooking up some story. Your dad’s never going to buy it. Let’s just go in there and tell them.” He patted her knee. A bolt of electricity shot up her leg.

  “Besides. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  ###

  Jordan figured he was insane.

  A sane man would have gone to the hospital before facing McKenna’s irate father. Every bone in his body hurt, his brain was on overload and he desperately wanted to confide in McKenna. To use her as a sounding board, but he couldn’t organize his jumbled thoughts. And he couldn’t risk putting her in danger. This was one mess he didn’t want to follow her into to make sure she was safe.

  She reached out to open the front door. It swung open before she could touch it. Raphael stood on the other side, his face a mass of pent up anger.

  Even though McKenna would never admit it, she was their baby. When it came to her, Raphael had a protective streak the size of all four oceans put together. It hadn’t taken Jordan long to figure that out as a kid and follow suit.

  Was it too late to run? Mexico was nice this time of year. Or the Cayman Islands.

  “Get in here,” Raphael said. “We need to have a talk.”

  “Nice to see you too, Dad.” McKenna stepped inside and kissed him on the cheek.

  Raphael’s face relaxed slightly. “Your mother’s waiting in the den.” His eyes jumped back to Jordan. The scowl returned before he zoned in on his nose. “What happened to you?”

  He was too tired to come up with a good lie. “Rupert has good aim for a mama’s boy.”

  Raphael arched an eyebrow. “Come on, I don’t have all day.”

  Jordan stepped inside and followed him to the den.

  He considered the ways he could explain what happened. Mr. Moore, your daughter and I got drunk and I married her in Las Vegas, slept with her and now we want a divorce.

  If he didn’t mind dying, that explanation would work.

  He sat down on the loveseat next to McKenna. Raphael sat next to Alexis on the adjacent couch. Nobody said anything. The tick of the mantle clock above the fireplace echoed in the room.

  “I’d like to know exactly what you two were thinking.” Raphael’s jaw clenched and unclenched.

  “Honey.” Alexis laid her hand on his arm. “Give them a chance to explain.”

  Raphael tapped his fingers on his leg and then clenched his hands together.

  Jordan thought going to jail might be better than what was to come. He’d even go peacefully. He’d read himself his own rights.

  “I’m listening.” Raphael crossed his arms and sat back. “Start talking.”

  Alexis glared at Raphael. “What your father is trying to say is we’re wondering why you would get married so quickly—”

  “Are you pregnant?” Raphael cut in as he stood.

  “Dad.” McKenna shook her head. “Really?”

  “What else am I supposed to think?”

  Pregnant? The word bounced around in his head. He should have seen it coming. Should have thought to ask McKenna himself. He didn’t even try to remember if he’d used protection. He hadn’t. He’d been too busy in recent years to think about having a relationship, physical or otherwise.

  “Mr. Moore, this isn’t how it seems.”

  “So, it’s not sudden and unplanned?” Raphael moved to stand in front of the fireplace, blocking the only exit. “How long were you intending to keep this a secret?”

  Forever would have been nice.

  “You’re acting like we’re teenagers you caught in the back of a sports car,” McKenna said.

  “Fine. You’re adults.” Raphael pressed his lips together for a moment. “Is this permanent?”

  Jordan’s heart rate escalated. Maybe he and McKenna should have talked about all of this beforehand. Formulated one of the ‘plans’ she claimed guided her through life like a sailboat on smooth waters. Then he wouldn’t be tripping over his tongue. “It’s a legally-binding contract, as permanent as it can be.”

  A deeper scowl crossed Raphael’s face. “That’s not the answer I’m looking for.”

  Was he supposed to claim undying love? Devotion? Spill every last detail about Las Vegas?

  “Dad, please.” McKenna stood and folded her arms across her chest. “We made a decision. We got married. Maybe it didn’t happen the way you envisioned, but—”

  “No.” A sarcastic laugh filled the room. “You’re right. I envisioned walking my only daughter down the aisle and being present for the event. Instead, I find a ring and get a whole bunch of avoidance from you both. Didn’t you think it was important to tell us?”

  “We’re here, now, aren’t we?”

  “Watch it, young lady. I’m still your dad. After that stunt you pulled last week…if you were ten years younger, I’d ground you until eternity.”

  “Stunt?”

  “Do you know how worried we’ve been?”

  Jordan could tell by McKenna’s clenched jaw and fists that she was moments away from unleashing the week’s frustrations on her dad. Only God knew what would come from those lips of hers.

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her back down to the couch. It was now or never. “I’ll admit we didn’t think things through. I’d be lying if I said we wanted to tell you right away. Fact of the matter is, short of a divorce, we can’t take it back.”

  He didn’t want to. He’d examine that thought later. Way later.

  “McKenna’s my daughter. She’ll always be my daughter. Therefore it’s my duty to make sure she�
�ll be cared for and happy.”

  “I’m right here, Dad.” McKenna unclenched her body and spoke in a softer tone. “I’m fine. I’m happy.”

  “Honey, we love you. Marriage is a serious commitment.” Raphael’s attention jumped from McKenna back to him, his gaze steady and probing.

  “I’m not twelve, dad I understand the implications here.”

  Her dad’s gaze didn’t waiver.

  Jordan wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans.

  “It’s not something you jump into and hope it works out. Do you understand?”

  “I do.” It was why he’d never let himself entertain the idea of kissing McKenna at age nineteen. Jordan wouldn’t have survived this talk back then.

  “Then you must have some sort of plan.”

  This family and that word. “It’s not twelve step or anything.”

  “Most people have at least a general idea of what they want in life. You know, a house, a dog, marriage, kids?”

  “Just marriage.” He and McKenna said in unison. Finally, they agreed on something.

  Raphael looked him over for a few of the longest moments of Jordan’s life. “I want to talk to you. Alone.”

  McKenna jumped up. “Dad, I know you’re upset.”

  “Jordan’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”

  “If it’s all the same, I’d rather stay.”

  Raphael glanced in her direction. “Go, McKenna.”

  She bit her lip, then followed her mother out of the den.

  Raphael waited until the girls were out of earshot, then he tipped Jordan’s chin toward the light. “Who won the fight?”

  “I’m not sure there was a winner.”

  He pushed his nose around some, sending little shards of pain throughout Jordan’s head. “I’d never admit it to McKenna, but I always disliked that guy.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  After a little more pushing and prodding, he said, “Looks broken. I’ve got a splint somewhere around here, if you want me to take care of it.”

  “Put me out of my misery.”

  Raphael nodded, admiration flickering in his eyes. “Tell me this isn’t some passing fancy.”