“I guess I should say ex. I mean, you guys are—”
Joel’s smirk died. “Right?”
“Wrong.”
Jeremy wrapped his fingers around her wrist and gave her a gentle tug until she looked down at him. “You still sure you’re not seeing Garrett?”
“Positive. Never dated or even thought about it.”
Jeremy pointed at his mouth. “You can resist a face like this?”
“On Garrett, yes. Keep in mind he was never around.”
Jeremy’s hold tightened before he let his hand drop. “Go back to your first comment. Only on my brother?”
She’d hoped he’d missed that verbal misstep. No such luck. “I’m wondering why I’ve never seen this Sara person at the house.”
The amusement faded from Jeremy’s eyes. “I’m worried about the same thing.”
Joel held up his phone. “She didn’t answer any of the four times I’ve tried.”
Meredith refused to panic. None of the information she’d heard made any sense. She rarely saw Garrett, but he’d never mentioned a fiancée and never bothered to bring her by to say hello. The pieces refused to fit together in any logical way. Still, Meredith had to believe a reasonable explanation lingered somewhere, maybe just out of reach, but there. “Couldn’t she be on vacation with Garrett? That would explain why we can’t reach either of them.”
Something cold and bleak moved behind Jeremy’s eyes. He controlled the starkness almost immediately. “I can’t contact him through any of our regular channels and he’s not answering the emergency call signal.”
Joel shook his head. “Damn.”
From the reaction, she knew the lack of communication wasn’t standard. She might not see him for weeks, but Garrett clearly checked in with Jeremy and the team. The failure to do so now had the other men reeling. Their tension touched off a new round of swirling panic inside her.
“Tell Pax and Davis to search for Sara. Credit cards, bank records. I want to know where she’s been.” Jeremy reached for his phone and frowned when it wasn’t in its place on the nightstand. “Once I fight off this painkiller buzz, I’ll check her house and some other places where she might be.”
Meredith put her hand over her back pocket. If Jeremy saw the bulge he’d know she’d grabbed his cell. He’d likely jump to conclusions about her wanting to call for help. In reality she knew, deep down knew, she was safest with Jeremy and there was no reason to run.
She also knew she had to hide his phone if she wanted him to rest. Having all those muscles meant nothing if he passed out at her feet.
“Already ahead of you on the calls,” Joel said. “Davis and I will take surveillance. Pax is coming to check you out.”
“Not necessary.” Jeremy shifted to the side of the bed.
She moved to lean against the mattress, blocking his path to the floor. “Does this Pax have medical training?”
Joel smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Then I like your plan. Pax stays. You remain in
bed for now.” She nudged Jeremy until he fell back onto the bed.
“Since when are you in charge?” Jeremy asked as he closed his eyes and leaned into the pillows.
No way was she conceding even an inch in this verbal battle. “Since you lost a pint or two of blood.”
Joel cleared his throat as he opened the door. “I’ll wait outside while you two hash this out.”
She didn’t wait to ask the question burning a hole in her brain. “Why would Garrett hide a fiancée?”
Jeremy didn’t open his eyes. “No idea.”
“Did you think they were still together?”
“They were having trouble but...” His eyes popped open. “I’ll feel better when I find her and Garrett.”
“Let’s get back to his job. Who exactly is your brother?” Then they could circle around to Jeremy’s job, as well, before the curiosity ate a hole in Meredith’s stomach.
She wasn’t ready to let the issue drop with a cursory explanation. Something these men did had gotten them in trouble, and as a result she was homeless with nothing more than the clothes she wore. She didn’t blame them. Not specifically. But she wasn’t going to be pushed aside either.
“Are you rapid firing questions to keep me from having a second to change your orders to Joel about fetching Pax?” he asked.
Smart man. “That and to get an answer or two out of you while your defenses are down.”
“Effective.”
She crossed her arms over her stomach. “It will be once you answer me.”
He stared at her. When she didn’t move or even break eye contact, he exhaled long and loud. “Garrett’s job is top secret.”
Not exactly the comment she was expecting. “How very Hollywood of you to say that.”
“It’s true.”
She dropped her hands to her sides. “Jeremy, come on. After everything that’s happened today, the least you can do is level with me. I think I deserve better than the ‘if I tell you I’ll have to kill you’ nonsense.”
“It’s not my secret to tell.”
“What, you think this has all been an elaborate scheme to get you to give up information on your brother’s job?”
The silence stretched out long enough to be comical. Finally, he gave a clipped response. “No.”
“You have trust issues.”
“DIA.”
It took her a second to realize he’d given her the answer. Well, an answer. Not that she understood what he said. “I don’t even know what that is.”
“Defense Intelligence Agency.”
“Never heard of it. The name I know starts with a C. ”
“He collects military-related foreign intel.”
The extra information didn’t bring any clarity. “Is he in the military?”
“Former army sergeant.”
“And now?”
“Black ops stuff.”
The curt responses raised more questions than they answered. Instead of calming the racing in her stomach, his comments kicked the churning to top speed. “That explains the travel.”
“It also means it’s not that easy to find him when he wants to stay missing.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.”
Chapter Six
Bruce Casden stared across the table at his five-hundred-dollar-per-hour lawyer, Stephen Simmons. The Third. Simmons never forgot to add that annoying reminder of his old-money family whenever he introduced himself.
Even now, framed by the dingy gray of cement prison block walls, Simmons acted as if he sat in the middle of a country club, all stiff with his perfect posture. The designer glasses and tailored suit—Bruce had paid for it all. The guy threw in the condescending smile free of charge.
Simmons never understood how the people Bruce knew could alter the look of a man’s face. Use a razor to change the curve of his chin or take off an ear. A knife to blind him.
Bruce knew people. The kind of people who never dreamed about someday going to college because the idea was so outside the mean streets they lived on. Bruce knew that neighborhood. Had escaped it but never forgotten how it lurked in another part of town, just waiting to drag him back in.
The idea of seeing certain body parts of Simmons rearranged and that smug mouth twisted in pain made Bruce smile. His current situation, sitting in a windowless room with the prospect of a soulless cell as his new living quarters, sucked the amusement right back out of him.
He stared at the thick steel door that locked them in together, glanced at the gold ring on Simmons’s pinkie as it caught the fluorescent lights. Armed guards lingered in the sterile hallway just outside the door. Their presence likely filled Simmons with a sense of security. Little did he know Bruce could snap his neck before the uniformed simpletons fumbled over each other and slipped the security card in the reader to open the door.
“Why am I still in here and not at my office desk?” Bruce asked.
“The government is taking a s
pecial interest in your case.”
“That’s not news. This is the third time one of my businesses has been raided.”
Simmons’s mouth turned up in a fake smile filled with loathing. “And the first time they found something, which is the problem.”
“I’m a businessman with commercial properties in Arizona and California.” Bruce repeated the spiel he’d been practicing for so long. “I’m not in each office and warehouse every day and certainly can’t be expected to know what the employees there are doing. As you know, it’s very hard to find motivated and honest employees these days.”
Simmons hesitated before flipping through the pages tacked to his file. When he stopped on one, his finger slid across the page as his eyes scanned the lines of black print. “The agents claim they found seventeen tons of marijuana in the storage room of your warehouse.”
“And I will question everyone who works for me until I uncover the identity of the person who—”
“They also found a drug-smuggling tunnel leading from the furnace room of your strip mall into Mexico.”
Bruce’s back teeth slammed together. “Don’t interrupt me.”
Simmons’s head shot up. “What?”
“I’m paying you enough to never interrupt me when I speak. Do not do it again.”
The chair creaked when Simmons leaned back. His stomach pulled at the buttons of his shirt and hung over his belt. “You don’t seem to understand how serious these charges are.”
Bruce knew. He also knew they would never stick without the necessary witness. The evidence bags could go missing. Forensics could be corrupted. Eliminating a witness took more subtlety.
While prison might provide the perfect alibi, Bruce missed his bed. “Get me out of here.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“I pay you to make things run smoothly. Right now, you’re not earning your fee.”
“The bail hearing is tomorrow.”
“I do not intend to spend even one night in an Arizona jail. In any jail, for that matter.”
Simmons continued as if Bruce hadn’t spoken. “If we are successful there will be some restrictions on your travel.”
“I have business at one of my properties in San Diego.”
“One of your managers will need to handle it for you. There is no way you can cross state lines.”
“This is the sort of job a smart man doesn’t trust to others. According to a recent call, the last time I tried everything fell apart.” Bruce rubbed his hands together, imagining how good it would feel to use his hands for something away from his desk and the signing of agreements. He ached for action. His blood raced and heated at the idea of settling this debt on his own.
Simmons tapped his shiny pen against the scarred table. “People are tired of the drug trade and drug-
related violence.”
The whining masses. “I’m not interested in public morality. I develop strip malls. My only sin is in helping people to shop. I had no idea anything nefarious was occurring.”
Between the dramatic exhale and the way he slapped the file shut, Simmons telegraphed his disgust. “We need to work on your story.”
“The Border Patrol agent set me up.”
“His record is rock solid.”
The tightness in Bruce’s stomach eased. The idea of destroying the agent who had broken protocol and infiltrated his operation unknotted the ball of tension that had been growing and spinning since the agents had landed on his doorstep with weapons drawn. “Which will make his downfall all the more compelling and the charges easier to throw out.”
“He’s an integral part of the case, but—”
“Then we’ll be fine.”
The briefcase slapped against the table and the locks clicked open as Simmons rifled around inside. “You’re very sure of your position. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”
“I understand people.”
Narrowed brown eyes peeked over the leather lid of the case. “What does that mean?”
“Simple.”
Simmons closed the briefcase and leaned his elbows on the top. “Explain it to me.”
“Mr. Hill won’t be a problem much longer.”
* * *
JEREMY GRABBED THE cotton shirt off the top of the bag Joel had dumped on the floor before he headed out with Davis. At least the three guys had stopped standing around staring at him. Jeremy had almost blown his cool over the petri dish treatment.
Except for Meredith. She could stare all she wanted. Look, touch, smile and crawl right up on his lap. She’d likely kick a little butt as she did it, but he didn’t mind any of the options if they came at her hands.
It would be a long time before he forgot the bone-deep determination in her eyes and snapping through every part of her as she’d pushed with all her might against his side to stop the bleeding. Even through the red haze of pain, he’d felt her willing him to survive.
Before he knew it, a man could forfeit his common sense for a woman like her.
He slipped the shirt over his shoulders and winced when the move sent a sharp tug down to his side. “Hate getting stabbed.”
“Normal people do.” Meredith sat on the bed next to him, rubbing her hands together and fidgeting. She didn’t reach over and button his shirt, but it sure looked as if she wanted to.
To keep from doing something stupid like putting his hands on her as he wanted to, he looked at Pax. Yeah, that killed all thoughts of dragging Meredith down on the mattress and thanking her.
Then Jeremy saw the needle. “Put that away.”
“You need to rest. My job is to make sure you do it. Do you know how tempting it is to knock you out?” Pax, six feet tall with shoulders wider than the doorway, tapped his finger against the syringe.
The guy could crush a car in his hands and ignored most orders, but he was behaving now. Acting as if he moved in society all the time, which he didn’t.
Jeremy guessed Meredith’s presence caused the change from Pax’s usual paranoid style. He’d been an army medic. Now he worked on a contract basis for Garrett, who had once said he’d brought the Weeks brothers in when the job seemed impossible, when the team was balanced on the verge of elimination with only hope and spit holding them together.
Like Garrett, Pax and Davis excelled at the impossible. They not only survived, they thrived as the pressure increased to crushing levels.
Pax moved, his smile growing with each step. “I can either sedate you or get my wish and use my fist to knock you on your—”
“Neither. I have to find my brother.”
“We’ll take care of that while you sleep it off.”
Jeremy did a quick assessment. He mentally calculated the distance to the door and how fast he could get there with only one side of his body at normal strength. Didn’t take a genius to figure out there was no way to win his way out of this using brute force. Not when a guy built like a wall stood in front of him, and Meredith balanced on the edge of the bed as if ready to pounce if needed.
No, Jeremy had to use his smarts if he hoped to win this one. “If Davis were lost, would you leave the rescue to someone else?”
“I would if I couldn’t walk without falling down.”
Meredith nodded as Pax spoke.
Jeremy ignored them both. Sometimes playing it safe and following the rules didn’t work. This was one of those times. “I have to find him.”
“I’ll head over to Sara’s house, then check in with Davis and Joel. In the meantime, you’ll rest.” Pax waved the needle in the air in an unspoken threat.
Jeremy held up his hands in what he hoped looked like surrender. “You win.”
Pax put a hand behind his ear and leaned in, exaggerating the moment and making Meredith smile. “What was that?”
“You don’t need that. I get it. No moving.”
Meredith stood up, adding her five-foot-six to the already imposing human blockade. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t move.”
Pax loo
ked her over from head to foot before a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I actually think you’re tough enough to do it.”
“Comes with the territory.”
He frowned. “Are you Border Patrol, too?”
“Meaner than that. I’m an elementary school teacher.”
“Ah.” Pax hesitated before easing his finger off the syringe’s stopper. He clipped a plastic cover over the needle and put the sedative back in his bag. “Rough gig.”
That was enough talking as far as Jeremy was concerned. For his plan to work, Pax needed to leave. “She lived with Garrett before her house turned to kindling.”
The scowls came at him from Pax and Meredith. Pulsing tension replaced the previous calm in the room.
“But not like that.” Her frown could melt metal. “Stop trying to switch the attention from you to me.”
Pax waved his hand in front of his face. “Hey, that’s none of my business anyway. I don’t judge.”
“Maybe not, but I want the record clear.” The scowl stayed on her mouth and her gaze never left Jeremy. “Neighbors only. Nothing romantic ever happened with Garrett.”
Pax laughed. “That’s a shame for Garrett.”
Yeah, more than enough talking or whatever this was. Jeremy lay back on the pillows Meredith had stacked behind him. “You can go, Pax.”
“Right.” The amusement hadn’t left the other man’s voice.
Jeremy didn’t find the situation all that funny, but he did appreciate the help. “Thanks, man.”
Meredith followed Pax to the door. He turned and handed her a piece of paper. “You might need this.”
She slipped Jeremy’s phone out of her back pocket and started punching in the numbers.
“How did you get that? I wondered where my phone went,” he mumbled, now knowing to watch her hands while he watched the rest of her.
She peeked up at him. “I’m not stupid. I stole it.”
“No, you aren’t.” Just one more thing about her that fascinated him.
She closed the door and leaned back against it, staring him down. “I don’t buy for one second that you’ve given up your plans to run out of here.”
“I see we understand each other.” He sat up and whistled as a rough breath hissed through his teeth. “I’d leave you here, but I’m not convinced it’s safe, despite the out-of-the-way location. So be ready to go in ten minutes.”
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