by Becky McGraw
“I’m on it,” Gray said, and Dex was about to hang up, but he kept talking. “And do me a favor, will you? Take copious notes about that redhead, so I can live vicariously through you.”
“Just take a damned vacation and find your own woman,” Dex grumbled, with anger bristling at the base of his neck. “This redhead is mine.” He pushed the end call button and laid his phone on the table then frowned.
Grace was his? Who in the hell was he kidding? She was turning into entirely too much trouble for his liking, and his life was in Dallas. His peace of mind was there too, and that’s where he was heading as soon as he found her sister…and got his fill of her.
He glanced at the small numbers at the lower right on his computer and saw that she’d been gone over three hours now. That was more than enough time for her to have gotten her things and come back here. He wondered what in the hell she was doing, what she and Patton were doing. Fear that something had gone wrong tightened his chest as he grabbed his phone again to call his brother’s cell phone number.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Don’t answer it,” Grace whispered after glancing at the ID on Patton’s phone when he pulled it from his pocket to silence it. “He’ll just get pissed that we’re out here.”
“Shhh,” Patton hissed, as he put the phone back into his pocket then picked up his binoculars again to squint into the sun toward the compound.
“Aye, aye, sir,” she mumbled, wondering if all the men in the Lowell family had a penchant for authoritarianism. Since he was a Navy SEAL, Brennan’s brother was probably the worst of the bunch.
Grace had no idea what they were even doing out there at the studio, because, so far, all she’d seen without the binoculars was a black van exit the back gate a few minutes ago. Getting the location for the studio from the police department seemed like a good idea at the time. She thought that information would be useful, but she never expected Patton to demand they come out here now and do what he called ‘recon’.
It was hot out here, sandy, and the prickly brush they were laying on was poking through the thin yoga pants she wore making her itch. Dusk was creeping up on them, the air had cooled considerably and she was getting hungry. Grace was not a soldier or sailor, even though she played dress-up as one for her job.
This cloak and dagger spying stuff was better left to men like Patton, even though she did know how to shoot a gun from the very basic training she’d gotten when she received her direct commission from the Surgeon General.
“It’s going to be dark soon, so we should probably get going,” she whispered, and Patton shot her a hot look.
They had almost a half-mile trek back to the copse of trees where he’d parked his rental car and she definitely didn’t want to make that journey in the dark, considering the huge potholes they’d avoided getting to this spot. The animals that made those holes would probably come out of them to play once darkness fell.
Her stomach clenched.
“I should’ve dropped you off at the hotel,” he grumbled, and huffed a breath.
“We haven’t seen anything, have we?” she asked, truly believing they were wasting time.
“I’ve seen plenty,” he replied, sitting up behind the berm they used for cover to brush off his khaki t-shirt. “Let’s go.” He reached a hand down and helped her up, then looked back at the compound once more. “We need to hurry, because there’s a van pulling up to the main gate. I don’t want them to see us pulling off.”
He grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the trees at a quick pace. “Did you see my sister?” she asked, as she tried to keep up with the big, burly man in desert camo garb.
“I haven’t seen Marcy in nearly twelve years, so if I had seen her, I probably wouldn’t know her,” he replied, jerking her arm just in time, before her foot sank into a large hole.
By the time they reached the car, Grace was out of breath. She leaned against the hood, and suddenly a bottle of water appeared under her nose. She took it, uncapped it and drank it down. “Thank you,” she said, then looked at him and noticed his raised brows. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t save you any.”
“Remind me never to take you on a mission with me,” he growled, as he took the bottle then walked to the driver’s door.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. I’m not an outdoors kind of woman, if you haven’t noticed,” she replied, getting into the passenger seat. “But I could go on a mission with you, if I was assigned to do that.”
Patton snorted. “Assigned by whom?” He cranked the car and put it into reverse, then looked over his shoulder to zoom backwards onto the roadway.
“By my Captain,” she replied smugly, and smiled when his eyebrows crashed together.
“Are you in the military?” His disbelief was right there in his eyes as they glided over her body to her toes.
“Sort of,” she replied with a laugh. She loved confusing these alpha cavemen who thought everyone in the service had to carry a pistol like he did at the moment. Her weapon was her medical knowledge, and her uniforms were hanging neatly in her closet, not stuffed into a duffle bag. This mission only required a sweater or two, a couple of print skirts and plenty of leather accessories.
“What branch? And in what capacity?” he asked, glancing over at her.
“I was recruited as a DCO Medical Officer by the Commissioned Corp of the US Public Health Service at the beginning of my second year of residency, so I’m a Lieutenant Commander and wear the same Navy uniform at work that you do as a SEAL.”
And thank God that offer had come her way. It not only allowed her to further her education, she started researching the medications directly responsible for her niece being born deaf much sooner than she could have otherwise. And she got paid to do it. Her job also allowed her to do other research for ways to help those in the same situation as Callie. Joining the PSHCC was the best decision she’d ever made.
“Holy shit! We’re the same rank?” Patton screeched, swerving as he looked at her. He quickly corrected and looked back at the road. “So have you been deployed? Worked in an overseas hospital?” Patton asked, sounding genuinely interested, but confused.
“No, my normal duty station is in Rockville, Maryland, where I work with the gene therapy research team at Johns Hopkins. We’re researching ways to help the profoundly deaf through gene therapy trials, but I have been deployed on temporary assignments when natural disasters or epidemics struck…earthquakes, hurricanes, the Ebola outbreak.”
A breath escaped him like that of a deflating balloon. “Damn, you’re as bad as my brother, aren’t you? No wonder you two get along so well.” He looked back at the road, turned on the headlights and sped up a little.
“How so?” Grace replied, because it wasn’t admiration she heard in his voice, but frustration.
“You’re both entirely too smart for your own good, and overachievers. Because of that, there has always been a communication gap between Dexter and his family. My parents often joke that they don’t know if he was dropped off by an alien spacecraft, or if our mother actually gave birth to him. It’s pretty frustrating at times.”
“Brennan is a good man,” she replied defensively. If they’d slow down and actually listen to him, the Lowell family might realize that. “He cares about people, otherwise he would be at his convention instead of trying to help me, and getting himself in trouble in the process.”
Her words floated around in her head, then settled into the stack of other things in her mind that pointed to the fact that Brennan might care about her. But then he was a good man, so it could just be that goodness driving him to get involved in her problems.
“Well, you may have gotten him out of that by showing your ass at the police station,” Patton said with a snide chuckle. “The look on Timothy Harlow’s face when the police slapped him in handcuffs after he handed over your stuff was priceless. It said he’d do what he needed to do to make the assault charge go away. I’m sure if that went public it could be ve
ry bad for business at the resort.”
“I plan on emailing him a proposition when we get back to the hotel,” Grace said, with a glance at him. “A proposition that it could all go away if he were inclined to drop the charges against Brennan.”
“You’re one smart cookie—but dumb at the same time. A lot like my brother.” He shook his head, and his lips tightened. “Never put anything in writing, Grace. It’s a paper trail that could get you into more trouble for blackmail, and sundry other charges. You need to call him—on a non-descript landline—to relay that proposition, then you can deny it ever happened.”
“That makes sense,” she said, swallowing hard. Like soldiering, conducting blackmail operations was not in her skillset either.
Grace folded her arms and looked out the window as silence settled between them for a few minutes. But she didn’t think about her sister, she thought about Brennan and the rift between him and his family. Maybe this time could be spent helping him too.
“Why do you think Dex is dumb?” With great effort, she tried to cement the nickname in her mind to replace Brennan’s given name.
“He thinks because he didn’t make the cut to join the military that our father—the family—is disappointed in him, thinks he’s useless. I can assure you that isn’t the case, and Mom is heartbroken over him bailing on us. Dad is just pissed, as are our brothers.”
“How do you feel about it?” Grace asked, glancing over at him to find his jaw clenched and an agitated muscle ticking there.
“As a Navy SEAL, I’m on twenty-four-hour call and usually get sent on training missions at least once a month. Right now I’m on standby, but only because I am actually training at Nellis for a month. I’m too busy to think about Dex most of the time, but I’m pissed too at his voluntary alienation from us.”
“Do you think there could be more to it? His doing that just doesn’t make a lot of sense to me, knowing him as well as I do.” Biblically anyway. Seeing Brennan again made her realize she didn’t really know him all that well. But one thing she did know was there had to be more to the story in her mind. “Why hasn’t your family reached out to him?”
“Mom tried, but he didn’t answer the cell phone number we had for him. He calls her twice a year to let us know he’s alive, and that’s the limit of our contact with him. I tried to find out where he went when he left his job and moved, but I now know why I couldn’t. He changed his freaking name, which makes no sense.”
Grace harrumphed. “It sounds like you’re the one with the communication problem,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “You know where he’s at now—he’s here. You’ve seen him, but all you’ve done is berate him. Maybe you should take the time and ask him why he has disconnected from the family.”
“Frankly, I don’t give a damn anymore,” Patton said shooting her a hot look. “He’s an adult and has made bad choices. His first was not trusting his family enough to understand his situation and help him. If he doesn’t need us or our help, we certainly don’t need him. My brothers feel the same way, and I suspect our father does too, although he hasn’t said that.”
Geez, Louise. Grace felt sorry for his mother. Having to live with all that hardheaded, and sometimes hard-hearted, testosterone had to be a challenge for Mary Lowell.
“You’re entitled to your feelings in the matter, but don’t you think you should try to mend fences for your mother’s sake?”
“I have other things to worry about at the moment,” Patton grumbled, his fists tightening on the steering wheel. “And you do too. We need to find your sister fast, because I suspect something awful is going on at that studio.”
Grace sat up straighter in her seat and turned to look at him. “Why do you think that? What do you suspect? Did you see something out there?” she demanded, her chest tightening.
“That van that exited the back of the grounds was from a funeral home. Any idea why a porn studio might need the services of an undertaker?” he asked, with a brief glance.
Every ounce of starch left her body to be replaced by cold, liquid fear. “No, I couldn’t imagine. Do you have any ideas? Maybe someone had a heart attack?”
“That would be odd since no ambulances came in the front gate, and in all likelihood if anything else happened, the coroner would’ve picked up the body. CSI and the police would’ve been all over the scene too and they weren’t there.”
“What then?” she asked, her voice constricted by the knot in her throat.
“I don’t know, but my brother can probably help figure that out. We definitely need to do more recon there, stake the place out, and research the Desert Pines funeral home.”
Grace was lost in thought trying to reason out a solution that didn’t involve a death at the studio during the whole drive back to the hotel. Two hours later, when Patton pulled into a parking spot in the underground garage, she still had no answers.
“It’s too far back to base tonight, so I’m going to have to crash in the suite,” Patton announced as he pulled the keys out of the ignition and opened his door.
Grace got out too, and they met at the front of the car to walk to the entry door. She was thankful and surprised when Patton opened it for her. Both her mind and body were so exhausted by the time they reached the private elevator to the suite, her feet were barely moving.
“Are you okay?” he asked, dropping his arm around her shoulders to lead her into the elevator.
“I’m tired and scared,” she admitted, glancing up at him, unable to keep herself from leaning against him.
He squeezed her shoulder, and she rested her head against his chest as the elevator ascended to the top floor. The doors opened and Patton led her into the living room where Dex stopped pacing to turn toward them.
It was obvious from his expression that he was furious. His eyes dropped to Patton’s hand on her shoulder and narrowed, before sliding back up to look his brother in the eye.
“Where in the ever loving hell have y’all been?!?” he demanded, with a hot glance at Grace. “I was about to wake up Logan and Susan to go looking for you!”
“That’s a switch,” Patton said dryly, dropping his arm from her shoulder. “You worrying about anyone other than yourself, especially someone in your family, isn’t part of your protocol.”
A fierce growl preceded Dex springing toward his brother with his fists clenched. Grace jumped just in time to get between them, and she was sandwiched there when they hit the floor. Her breath left her, and stars danced behind her eyes as Dex rolled off the pile to glare down at her.
“Why in the hell did you do that, Grace? You worried I’ll hurt him?” he growled.
Patton gently pushed her to the side then did some kind of awesome handspring to get on his feet in one fluid motion. He took a step toward Dex, but she grabbed his leg.
“Stop it!” she shouted, when she could finally draw a breath. “You two are brothers and you need to start acting like it!” She scrambled to her feet to find them engaged in a war of wills with their eyes. The tension in their bodies said they were very near going at it physically again. “This isn’t helping anything, so just stop.”
“I’m fucking frustrated with his stupidity,” Dex growled, and a twin sound came from his brother’s chest.
“Well, I’m tired of both of you being stupid,” Grace said, stepping between them again to face Dex. “We were out at the studio doing some, ah…” She looked back over her shoulder at Patton then finished. “Some recon.”
“Well you could’ve called—or fucking answered my call,” he grated, shoving a hand through his hair. “I’ve been here worried to death about you.”
“I’m sorry—we weren’t in a position to answer when you called. It was thoughtless,” she said, stepping forward to put her hand on his chest.
His breath came out in a rush. “I’m sorry…I’m just frustrated.” Her lips tingled when his eyes fell to her mouth. “Nothing came up on my search script, so either she isn’t there or she’s not usi
ng her real name. Are you sure she’s there? Is there another name she might be using?”
“She could be using her stage name, maybe,” she replied, gnawing her lip. “Master Tim could’ve given her another name too, because he called me Kitty. I know she’s there, because I saw her conversations with him on the forum and the plane ticket he sent her money to buy.”
“That information would’ve probably saved me a helluva lot of time, Grace,” Dex replied, his voice tight. “What’s her stage name?”
“Ella Jones,” Grace replied, and Dex sighed.
“Of course it would be Jones,” he grumbled, sounding defeated as he turned to walk to the conference table, which was littered with paper.
“You need to stop what you’re doing and do some research on a funeral home called Desert Pines,” Patton said following him.
“Why?” Dex asked, not looking up from the computer screen he was scrolling through.
“Because I have a feeling someone came out of that studio toes up this afternoon and Marcy Wentworth could be next if we don’t hurry up and find her,” he replied, his voice devoid of emotion. “When I get this feeling, I promise shit’s about to hit the fan.”
The words echoed inside her skull, Grace’s body went numb, her brain switched to neutral and black spots danced before her eyes. When she felt her knees buckle, she didn’t have an ounce of strength to stop herself from falling.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Wake up, Gracie,” Dex’s frantic voice came to her sounding like it was inside a tunnel. He repeated the plea, and her heart pounded as she dragged her eyes open to find him leaning over her looking frantic as well.
“What happened?” she asked, putting her hand to her forehead to drag the cold, wet rag to the side.
“You passed out,” he informed, his mouth tightening. “I’m sorry my brother is such an insensitive ass.”