“Thank you, sir.” As he shook his hand, Brett studied Jackson in return, noting the small scars around one eye, where the one socket had been crushed during the beatings. All in all the man had healed remarkably and looked much the same as before. His prematurely gray hair was almost completely white, though his features were that of a man in his prime.
“Have a seat,” Jackson motioned to the two chairs in front of his desk.
Brett took the one furthest from the door and Jackson took the other.
“I heard about the car bombing. How is Tess?”
Was that what he was here to discuss? Was Jackson concerned he’d be targeted again?
“She’s dealing, sir. We’re still waiting for someone—either the FBI or homeland security—to tell us what they’ve learned.”
“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Jackson said, his tone dry.
Brett smiled. “I’m not. Neither of us thinks it’s terrorist related, sir.”
Jackson quirked a brow. “Bombing the car of a newspaper reporter wouldn’t send a big enough message. It sounds like something homegrown to me.”
“That’s what we both believe as well.”
“Any suspects in mind?”
“Yes, sir. Tess was approached by a woman about a week ago with information about some illegal activity at the construction company where she worked. Shortly after that the woman was killed and Tess’s car was blown up. But I suppose the FBI and Homeland have to work through every possible scenario and rule out suspects. The San Diego police are involved with the investigation into the accident that led to the woman’s death.”
“Sounds like Tess stumbled knee-deep into shit.”
Brett nodded. “That’s about the gist of it.”
“If there’s anything you need, or she does, all you have to do is pick up the phone.”
Too bad he’d offered after the two men Miguel suggested had already come on board. “Thank you, sir. You got your invitation to the wedding?”
“Yes, and we’ll be there. Marsha’s disappointed she can’t accept Tess’s invitation to be part of the wedding, but her mother’s surgery will keep her from being involved.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I know she and Tess and the other wives have become close.”
“Yes, they’re a force to be reckoned with.”
For the first time since he’d walked into the office Brett smiled. “I’m glad Tess has back up while I’m gone.” He grew serious. “Now are you going to tell me the bad news? Has something happened to one of the guys on my team?”
“No. As far as I know they’re fine and will be returning ASAP. Hopefully in time for your wedding.”
“Good. But…” Brett urged.
“Lieutenant Commander Jeffrey was called out of the country unexpectedly and asked me to speak with you, since I was involved in writing recommendations for your file. Your promotion may be delayed until after the FBI and Homeland investigation is completed.”
As slow as their wheels turned, that could be a year—or two—or never. Fuck! “Do they think Tess or I have something illegal going on?”
“No, nothing like that.” Jackson ran a hand over his hair. “I can’t give you any reason that makes sense to me, Cutter. All I can tell you is Lieutenant Commander Jeffrey, Lieutenant Harding, and I are all pushing for you to get the promotion. You’ve worked for it, and you deserve it. But because HQ is stalling, I wanted you to be aware that it might not come through in the near future.”
He didn’t do what he did for medals, or the money. He did it because he was called to do it and he loved it. But it wasn’t just disappointment that tightened like a vise inside him, but a sense of betrayal, too. It seemed like whenever something happened in their personal lives, it affected their military career.
Hawk had done the right thing, and had saved lives when he’d intervened when Derrick Armstrong had gone nuts. And because of it, Hawk had been deployed for six months and missed most of Zoe’s pregnancy. What the hell was up with that?
And now, because the FBI was investigating Tess’s car bombing, his promotion had dried up. What did one have to do with the other?
He wished Senior Chief had never told him he was up for it. He wished he’d never told Tess. Shit!
“This bump in the road isn’t a reflection on your ability, Cutter. We both know you deserve this.”
Man, this guy had done a one-eighty since Brett had been under his command. But it didn’t help the tightness in his chest one damn bit.
Brett got to his feet. “I appreciate you calling me down here to tell me face-to-face, Captain.”
Captain Jackson stood and offered his hand. “Lt. Commander Jeffrey and I are both in contact with Homeland and the FBI on a regular basis. I’ll keep you posted as we learn things, Brett.”
He nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
Jackson returned the gesture. “I’ll see you at the wedding if not before, Cutter.”
“Thank you, sir.” He turned to leave then stopped to face Jackson again. “Tess has been offered a job with the Washington Post.”
“The Washington Post!” Jackson’s brows shot up. “That’s—amazing.”
Brett saw the wheels turning in Jackson’s head. “Yes, sir. If she decides to take it, I may put in for a transfer.” He’d been kicking the idea around ever since she’d told him about the job. This would be the right time to do it. He could start fresh. He’d done it before. “We’d be able to see each other more if I was on the other coast with her. It would only be a little more than a two-hour drive from Little Creek to DC.”
Jackson’s expression became grave. “I’d hate for us to lose you, Cutter. But if you decide to do it, I’ll try and grease the wheels for you.”
“Thank you, Captain. I’ll let you know. We’re going to fly out in a few days so she can check the job out and make a final decision.”
“When did this happen?”
“A couple of days before I came home. She was going to turn it down, but I wanted her to try the place on for size first. We’ve both been there, but really checking the area, her work place—Our families have to make so many sacrifices already, I just thought—if she wants to give it a shot, we’ll work it out.”
Jackson studied him for a moment. “Cutter, I wish I’d been as wise as you at the beginning of Marsha’s and my marriage. I think it’s a damn good idea. Our wives deserve as much success as we do.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Congratulate her for me.”
“Will do.”
All the way to the car, Brett kept telling himself if Tess took the job, a transfer would be in his best interest as well as hers. It didn’t ease the anger that leapt to life and made him want to pound on something. Maybe things would be better in Virginia. Or would things still ebb and flow at the whim of political winds there too? Probably.
Had Tess experienced these deep feelings of disappointment and frustration? If she had, she’d dealt with it with more grace and control than he was. God damnit! He jerked the car door open, got in, and slammed it shut.
At least she was going to get the opportunity to look at Washington as a potential home instead of just a fun place to visit.
He’d take care of that travel paperwork right now, and go by and get some new uniforms. Then he’d run by the PX and see if they had anything close to what he wanted to buy Tess for her bride’s gift. And maybe while he was at it, he’d concentrate on what it was going to be like married to the love of his life instead of worrying about this promotion bullshit.
Chapter Nineteen
‡
Tess shifted on the hard seat outside the interview room. She had only been waiting there fifteen minutes and already her butt was getting numb. The long hallway stretched into the distance. Cream-colored tiled floors shone clean and waxed, reflecting the florescent lighting overhead.
From where she sat on the second floor, several secure elevators, steel doors, and more than a hundred guards stood between her and th
e prisoners on the twenty-three floors of the Metropolitan Correctional Center above her—but her hands still shook with nerves, and she caught her breath at every sound. Part of her feelings stemmed from the claustrophobic pressure of the structure itself, claustrophobia she was sure the population housed here also experienced.
At the sound of approaching footsteps Tess glanced up. Clarence Niles, Daniel Delgado’s lawyer, strode toward her. She’d met Clarence at the scene of a shooting and had interviewed him later about his client who, after a brief trail, was declared innocent. She got to her feet and shook the hand he offered.
“What’s going on, Tess?” His hair was a little thinner, his teeth a little whiter, but he still reminded her of a young Bruce Willis. The only unattractive thing about him was the clients he represented. He specialized in gang members, prostitutes, and drug dealers.
“I’m here to interview your client,” she said, stating the obvious.
“Because?” he asked.
“Because he’s a honor roll student from a poor neighborhood with a full scholarship to the University of California and an exemplary work record at the store he’s accused of robbing.”
“And?”
“And I know his brother has probably run interference to keep him out of the gang he’s affiliated with. The district attorney may be using Daniel to try and get to the brother.”
“Sounds like you have a pretty good grasp of the situation. Let’s sit for a minute before they bring Daniel down.” He pointed to the chair she’d been sitting on and took the one next to hers. “This kid is getting a raw deal. It’s guilt by association. They found no drugs, no money, no gun, no mask, but they’re still holding him because one of witnesses is adamant it was him.”
“His boss, Mr. Gordon.”
Clarence studied her face. “I see you’ve met the asshole.”
“Yes.” Tess paused a moment debating. “I was not impressed, nor are several of the women who work for him.”
His brows lifted. “Sexual harassment?”
“No. I don’t think so. I think it’s just an all-round assholery rather than a criminal one.”
Clarence laughed. “I can’t go into court and say ‘your honor you need to release my client because the man accusing him is an asshole.’ That isn’t against the law, otherwise I’d probably have a cell upstairs myself.”
She remained quiet for a moment. “What kind of charges can be brought against a person if they purposely identify the wrong person for a crime?”
“Criminal conspiracy and perjury if they identify them on the stand during trial. But in either instance, to prove they’re purposely identifying them for their own gain would be tough.”
“You’ve dealt with quite a few defendants and probably have a sense of guilt or innocence about each one you’ve represented. Do you believe Daniel’s innocent?”
He narrowed his gray-green eyes as he studied her. “Yeah, I do. No bullshit. I think he was a few blocks from the store, fit the description, and the cops thought they had their guy—at first. Then when they learned who his brother was, it solidified the idea in their minds. They believe he dropped the money, gun and mask off somewhere along the way. But they haven’t been able to find them.”
“Lack of evidence would be enough for a dismissal, even with Gordon’s ID.”
“Yeah. But by the time this case goes to trial Daniel will have missed graduation and the scholarship he’s earned will have gone away. Without that college money, he’ll be stuck in the neighborhood he comes from.”
“And I believe that’s exactly what Gordon wants to happen.”
Clarence’s brows went up again. “Why?”
She needed to get a feel for Daniel’s innocence herself. “I want to meet Daniel first, and then I’ll tell you.”
Clarence frowned and started to say something when the clang of the barred door at the end of the hall interrupted.
Two large guards led a shorter handcuffed man toward them. Clarence stood and offered Tess a hand up. One guard unlocked the interview room directly in front of them while the other stood watchful and expressionless next to Daniel.
The two led him inside, handcuffed him to the table in the center of the room, went over the rules that they were to have no physical contact with the prisoner, and they were not allowed to hand him anything, then departed and locked the door behind them. Through the narrow window on the door, Tess could see the edge of one of their shoulders where a guard leaned against the wall outside.
After having met Miguel Delgado, Tess was surprised by how completely opposite Daniel was from his brother. Where Miguel was all hard, ropy muscle, Daniel leaned more toward a stocky, less muscular build, yet he wasn’t fat. Where Miguel’s features were sharp and angular, Daniel’s were more curvilinear without being effeminate. But what surprised her even more was the well-modulated depth of his voice when, after Clarence introduced her, he said, “Nice to meet you, Ms. Kelly.” He could have been a radio announcer.
She and Clarence took a seat opposite him. Clarence immediately asked. “How are you doing, Daniel?”
“I’m okay.” He clenched his hands and tugged at the loop that held the handcuffs in place. “I’m keeping my head down and working on my school work so I can graduate on time.”
“Good.”
His dark eyes, so much like his mother’s turned to Tess. “What was it you wanted to ask me, Ms. Kelly?”
“First, is it okay with you if I tape this interview?” she asked, producing a small digital recorder from her pocket. “They wouldn’t allow me to bring in my notebook and pen.”
Clarence laid a hand on Daniel’s arm. “If they subpoenaed you, you’d have to hand over the interview, Tess. I won’t allow Daniel to answer any questions detrimental to his defense.”
“I don’t intend to ask any that would be.” At his nod, and Daniel’s, she started the recorder. “I’d like to hear from you directly what happened the night of the robbery.”
Daniel’s gaze swung to Clarence and, at his nod, took a deep breath. “The same thing that happens every night I work. I rotate around the store doing what needs done. That night I worked in the dairy department stocking the refrigeration unit. When I was done in dairy, I bagged some groceries, cleaned the conveyor belts on the checkout lanes, and did some sweeping. When my shift was over at eleven, I walked home. I was almost there when a police car came screaming around the corner, pulled over, and two cops jumped out of the car with their guns drawn. They screamed at me to get on the ground, so I did. I kept asking them what was happening, but neither of them would tell me.”
“How long does it take for you to walk home from the store?”
“Twenty or twenty-five minutes. I guess it was more like twenty minutes that night.”
“Did you see anyone along the way you recognized?”
“No. It’s eleven-thirty at night. People don’t walk around that late in our neighborhood. My mom works the late shift for a cleaning company, and she can’t pick me up because she doesn’t get off until midnight.”
In the last two days, Tess had walked the distance from the store. Brett, after enlisting Bowie and Doc’s help, had accompanied her. All three men had been in hypervigilant SEAL mode the entire time. She’d stopped at several neighborhood houses, spoken to rough-looking young men, their bodies marked by tattoos. Since she’d had three obviously armed men with her, none of them had attempted any aggression or intimidation. All of them knew Daniel, and none of them had seen him that night. And if they had, the district attorney wouldn’t have thought them credible anyway.
Everyone on Daniel’s street had seen the arrest. From the moment the lights of the police car had flashed, the neighbors had been glued to their windows. All of them were adamant Daniel was innocent.
“Did you happen to notice the time, Daniel?” Tess asked.
“No, but it would be on the cops’ dashcam. I usually get home a few minutes before eleven each night.”
Tess excha
nged a look with Clarence. His assessment of the time was what several witnesses had told her. If it took him twenty minutes to walk home every night, then he wouldn’t have had time to leave work, come back, rob the store, wash off the tattoo, stow the cash, gun, and mask, and make it home in the same length of time—unless he’d run like the wind. Or had an accomplice who’d given him a ride and dropped him close to his house. She’d asked about a car but no one had seen him get out of one. And there’d never been any mention of a partner in the crime. And how the hell had the cops gotten there so quickly?
“What kind of relationship do you have with your boss, Mr. Gordon?”
Daniel was silent for a moment. “Well, I always thought it was okay. He’s not exactly the touchy-feely pat you on the back for a good job kind of dude. Sometimes he can be short when he tells me to do things. Like he’s pissed off about something. But he’s like that sometimes with everyone who works for him.”
Tess bit her lip. “Do you know any of Mr. Gordon’s family?”
“No. I’ve seen his wife a time or two when she’s stopped by to speak to him.” Daniel leaned forward to rest his arms on the table, an awkward position when his wrists were bound to the ring. “I don’t know why Mr. Gordon thinks it was me who held up the store that night. I’ve never done anything to him to piss him off enough for him to do it out of spite. He must really believe it was me. But it wasn’t. I swear it wasn’t.”
His earnest confusion was plain to read. Tess thought for a moment. If she brought up Gordon’s nephew by name, and Daniel mentioned it to his brother… “Have the police asked you about your brother and the gang?”
“They did when they first brought me in. They offered me a deal if I’d tell them things about Miguel and the others. I kept thinking, why would I take a deal for something I didn’t do?” For the first time anger seamed his lips together in a taut line and his nostrils flared. “I wouldn’t do it. I asked for a lawyer, then he tried to get me to talk to them. And every time I told him I was innocent, he just kept saying, give them what they want, and they’ll let you go.”
Building Ties (Military Romantic Suspense) (SEAL Team Heartbreakers Book 4) Page 19
