Building Ties (Military Romantic Suspense) (SEAL Team Heartbreakers Book 4)

by Teresa Reasor

  “It was a split-second reaction, Mr. Gooding. It’s instinctive to turn away from something coming at you,” Brett said.

  “I’ve told myself that again and again, but life would have been so different—” he shook his head. “It was easier for Shelly to let me go.” He pointed to himself. “When it’s your child, you just can’t.”

  “The man responsible for Lisa’s condition committed suicide. Did that give you any kind of closure?”

  “When I heard he was dead, for half a second I was satisfied. Then I was angry all over again. He took the coward’s way out. He should have had to live with what he’d done as long as we will. The only positive thing that came out of his passing is I no longer had a target for my anger. I just felt hollow inside, and I had to finally deal with my guilt. I started seeing a therapist about two months after his death. Something I probably should have done right after the accident.”

  “But you’re doing better now?”

  “Yeah. It’s been slow going, but my blood pressure has started to ease down and I’m actually able to go a night or two without the nightmares, and get through a day at work without blowing up.”

  That accounted for his sudden change in attitude with his wife. The tight feeling of anxiety, Tess had carried around every time she thought of Gooding and his wife eased.

  And she could identify with what he was going through. She had her own nightmares to deal with. When she woke Brett, he was always calming, comforting, but he’d also encouraged her to see someone instead of trying to tough it out.

  “I’m glad you’re doing better. Shelly told me about Lisa’s kidney failure.”

  He folded his hands together and studied them. “I’m a match, but I have diabetes, so they won’t take one of mine. Lisa will die before they find a match. She’s not high enough on the list.”

  How would he and Shelly deal with being freed by their daughter’s death? It would have to be a relief and at the same time the most terrible of losses.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He nodded.

  Tess looked toward the plastic containers. “It looks like you’re moving.”

  “Shelly’s agreed to let me move back in. I want to be as close to Lisa as I can for what time she has left.” His chin quivered and he looked away.

  Tess leaned forward and placed a hand over his. “You and Shelly have done everything you can for her. She’s as comfortable as you can make her. I think she knows that, and feels how much you love her.”

  “But she’ll never go to college, never get married, never have children. Her life stopped that day, and ours did, too.”

  Everything he said was true. But maybe one day he and his wife would start to live again. “You have an opportunity, Mr. Gooding. I know your wife…the way she talks about you, I can tell she still loves you. I’d use this time together to start again. Show her how far you’ve come.”

  *

  Brett held Tess’s arm just above the elbow as they ascended the rickety exterior stairs to the parking lot. “I felt damn sorry for him.”

  “I did too.

  “But he could have arranged the truckload of cement to be delivered to Brittain Construction.”

  “But how would he arrange for the cement to be a substandard mix?”

  Brett shook his head. “He liked Mary Stubben. As protective as he is about his wife and child, I can’t see him harming a woman or being a part of killing her.”

  “Me either.”

  “Despite the link to his job, I just don’t see him taking part. But he does need money to help with expenses.”

  “Hart and Buckler will have to be the ones to decide. I never sent them my research on the new hires and the other employees involved in operations.”

  “You need to do that, Tess.” As they crossed the parking lot, Brett waved to Armando. The bouncer/bodyguard waved back with the all clear. It was costing the nest egg they’d saved for their honeymoon to pay for security, but it was worth it. Reaching the car, Brett opened Tess’s door.

  “I haven’t done it because I didn’t want to point to Brian Gooding as a possible suspect.”

  “I think we’ve had this conversation before. You can’t protect people from their own bad decisions. They have to take responsibility.” He went around to the driver’s side and got in, started the car, and pulled out of the parking lot. Armando fell in two cars behind.

  “Where are we going from here?” he asked.

  Tess shrugged. “Home, I guess. I’ll work on this story and get it in tomorrow.” Her phone rang and she fished it out of her bag. Her gaze leapt to Brett’s face. “It’s Armando. A dark blue sedan with a faded orange sticker on the bumper just passed him.” They stopped at a light. The dark blue car pulled up beside them.

  Every instinct fired and Brett drew his Sig and held it just below the man’s eye level. He was a big man, filling the seat of his car, his head almost brushing the top. Henry Sullivan looked past Brett to stare directly at Tess, his expression stony. He raised a cell phone to his ear.

  Tess’s phone rang. She pushed the button for speakerphone.

  Sullivan’s voice sounded gravelly over the connection. “Stop fucking calling me. I did a report for Frye, and that’s all. I don’t want any part in that crazy fucker’s business.”

  “What do you mean, Mr. Sullivan?”

  “You know what I mean. You keep interviewing his employees, and asking questions, you’ll have him on your ass again. Just let it go.”

  “A woman’s dead, Mr. Sullivan. If you know anything at all, you need to contact the police.”

  “I don’t know anything, and I don’t want to know anything.”

  “Yes, you do. It was you in the parking lot of my paper when the bomb went off. What were you there for, if not to blow up my car?”

  The light changed and Sullivan shot forward in front of them.

  The phone went dead.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  ‡

  Brett’s attention moved from Buckler and Hart back to Tess. Had he done the right thing in calling them for this powwow?

  “We don’t have a direct tie from Frye to Mary’s death, the car bomb, or the Brittain company accident. We’ve looked for one. We have to find something or someone to link him to the bombing before we can demand a warrant to look through his business files and financials.”

  “You have Mary,” Tess said. Brett fought a smile at the intent expression she turned on the two detectives. They had no idea how determined she could be. “And you have Sullivan. He’s tied to a woman who was killed under suspicious circumstances and was at the scene of a bombing moments before it happened. It’s circumstantial, but there is a connection there.”

  She half stood, then sat back down. “You have to talk to Sullivan. The way you two behaved when his name came up, I can tell he’s either slimy, or dangerous, or both.” Tess’s tone sounded as impatient as Brett felt. “And, based on the research I did on him, he doesn’t seem the type to scare easily. Something’s spooked him. I’m thinking he’s bitten off more than he can chew with Frye, and he’s trying to distance himself so he won’t be considered an accessory.”

  “You’re sure he was the man in the parking lot.”

  “Yes, seeing him in profile inside his car clinched it. I’m certain of it. It was his car in the parking lot that pulled away before the bomb went off.”

  Hart and Buckler exchanged a glance.

  “So you think he set the bomb?” Hart asked.

  “No. I think he knew what was going down and was there to try and figure out a way to stop it. If he was in on the bombing, he’d be covering his ass and keeping his distance, not trying to warn me off. And he’s been following us. He may have evidence about who Frye’s hired to come after me. He may be trying to figure out a way to slither out of the whole mess.”

  Hart sat forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and laced his fingers. “He’s not the kind to suddenly grow a conscience.”

  “
I don’t think his conscience is bothering him, I think his sense of self-preservation may have kicked in,” Brett said. “And why hasn’t the FBI picked him up and questioned him about the bombing?”

  “They did. He said he parked there, but walked to a nearby office building to see a client whose wife was having an affair. The guy confirmed he came by his office.”

  “Believe me, we’ve gone around in as many circles as you have about this,” Buckler said. “The DA won’t give us a warrant to search his office, either. He has no history with explosives, no training in using them, and had a legitimate reason for being there. And the report he compiled for Frye wasn’t against the law.”

  Brett ran a hand over his head, roughing up his hair. “What about the bidding on the Ellison project?”

  “Frye’s dropped out of the bidding.”

  “And that ends the investigation?” Tess asked.

  “No. We found out who sent him the information, but the guy quit his job and is in the wind. We’re still looking for him,” Buckler said. “If we can find him, we might be able to build a criminal case if he was paid for the info.”

  “So Frye gets away without any kind of punishment?”

  “Well, we did prove he had access to the information, and the commission has voted that he won’t be permitted to bid on any city-sanctioned projects for the next four years.”

  Brett shifted in his seat. “Four years is just a slap on the wrist.”

  “We couldn’t prove Frye had solicited the information.” Buckler shoved his fingers through his hair. “This guy is sheathed in Teflon. Everything rolls right off of him.”

  “And Hamilton has refused to talk to us about the blackmail.” Hart’s expression was as downcast as Buckler’s.

  Tess stood and paced back and forth. “Mary lost her life because of this. There has to be something we can do. You have to talk to Sullivan. Put some pressure on him. He knows something.”

  “What about Marcus Kipfer?” Brett asked.

  “Kipfer fits the profile. He’s a drug addict who knows how to blow stuff up,” Buckler said, a hint of bitter frustration in his voice. “But he has an alibi.”

  “What kind of alibi?”

  “A girlfriend.”

  “Is she an addict, too?” Tess asked.

  “No. And she’s very protective of him.”

  “Meaning she’d lie for him?”

  Buckler raised a brow.

  “So what are you going to do?” Tess asked.

  “Keep looking.” Buckler stood and beckoned to Hart. “And talk to Sullivan. Who knows? He just might work with us for once. And we’ll wait for Kipfer to screw up with the girlfriend so she might change her mind and tell the truth. All we need is one break.”

  Brett worried the one break they needed might involve Tess. After the wedding and the honeymoon, he’d have to go back to work, and they couldn’t afford to pay for added security indefinitely. It was already eating a hole into their joint savings and their honeymoon fund. Tess would be left unprotected, vulnerable.

  He shut the door behind the detectives. Tess’s arms went around him from behind and she pressed close against his back. “You were awfully quiet. What were you thinking?”

  Brett caressed her arms and relished the feel of her breasts pressing into his back. “I’m thinking the reason this whole thing started is they think you have whatever Mary took from work that last day. It has to be proof positive against Frye. If we find it, it will end the problems.”

  Tess stepped away. “But where would she have hidden it? The cops have searched her car, her house, her desk at work. They had to have.”

  “Then it has to be somewhere else.”

  “The only place we had in common was the Café Curiosité, where we met.” Tess’s eyes widened. “Saraphina would have called me if Mary had left anything at the shop for me to pick up.”

  “Maybe Saraphina doesn’t know it’s there. Isn’t that the place with all the antiques?”

  “Yes.” Tess’s mind race through possibilities. “It could be hidden anywhere.”

  “We won’t know until we go look around. Maybe it will be right there at the counter.”

  “I’m sure the police have gone there and asked about our meeting. But I’m up for a treasure hunt. There’s certainly nothing to lose.”

  *

  Small fold-up chairs and tables with wooden slats sat in the shade of brightly-colored red and white-striped umbrellas out on the street. It looked trendy and artistic. Though the weather was pleasant, Brett guided Tess inside.

  “This constant vigilance is getting old,” Tess said, eyeing the tables. “I miss being able to sit out in the sun and enjoy an afternoon.”

  “I know. But it will be over soon.”

  She leaned her head against his shoulder in response.

  They were met at the door by the scent of coffee and fresh baked goods. Brett breathed in the fragrances and, though he’d just eaten, his sweet tooth kicked in.

  “I’m going to go to the restroom,” Tess told him. “Order me a coffee with cream.”

  “I’m getting something sweet. I’ll get two forks so we can share it.”

  “You and your sweet tooth. How can you even think of eating anything else after the lunch you scarfed down?” She threw up her hand before he could answer. “Never mind…” the corner of her mouth quirked up before she continued. “‘I’m a guy, Tess, and we’re always hungry for one thing or another.’”

  Brett laughed at her imitation. “You need to deepen your voice a little to get it just right.”

  She shook her head and sauntered away.

  The woman behind the counter took his order and Brett found a table near the back of the room. A moment later Tess slipped into her chair.

  A stunning African-American woman, who was in the process of a glass cabinet with fresh baked desserts, smiled and waved to her.

  “That’s Saraphina Rollins, the manager. I covered a burglary here. The store was broken into in the middle of the night, and some of the higher-end coffees were stolen, along with quite a bit of other inventory.”

  “Why would someone break in to steal coffee?”

  Tess shrugged. “Maybe they were caffeine junkies.”

  Brett chuckled.

  “It’s good to see you again, Tess,” Saraphina said as she approached their table.

  Brett shoved back his seat and stood automatically, acknowledging the woman as she came to stand next to their table.

  “Saraphina, this is Brett, my fiancé.”

  The woman smiled and offered her hand. “You made it back in time for the wedding.”

  “Yeah.” He shook her hand briefly. “Six more days and Tess will make an honest man out of me.”

  She laughed. “She said you wouldn’t let her down.”

  Brett glanced in Tess’s direction. Would he have made it if her car hadn’t gone up like a demolition project? He hoped so. “I do my best.”

  “I’m glad to meet you.” She turned back to Tess. “I’m sorry about your friend. It was a shock when the police stopped in and asked questions about your visit.”

  “Mary was killed later that day in a hit and run. They were trying to establish where she might have gone and what she did that day before the accident.”

  “So they suspect murder?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

  Saraphina’s lips pursed in an “O” of surprise. “How horrible.”

  “Did you happen to see Mary later that day, after we’d met for coffee?”

  “I didn’t, I’d already left for the day. But one of the wait staff did.”

  “Is she here today?”

  “Yes. I’ll ask Janet to come over and talk to you.”

  “Thanks, Saraphina. I appreciate it.

  “In the meantime, enjoy your coffee before it gets cold.”

  Brett sipped his java, then forked a bite while Tess fiddled with her silverware, her actions fraught with nervous impatience.

&
nbsp; “How can you be so calm?” she demanded in an accusing tone.

  Brett chuckled. “I’ve waited longer for an MRE to heat, Tess. Eat a bite of this and get your mind off of things.” He held out a forkfull of double chocolate brownie with whipped cream and caramel sauce.

  “Oh, my God, I’m going to waddle down the aisle at the wedding.”

  “You’d have to eat more than one bite for that to happen.”

  She opened her mouth and he fed her the morsel. Tess groaned and he immediately got hard. Jesus, he was like one of Pavlov’s dogs. All he had to do is hear her make that sound and he was ready.

  “We could start looking around,” she suggested. Her gaze scanned the antique glassware displayed on nearby shelves.

  Brett offered her another bite, but she shook her head. “No, let’s wait. Janet might have seen what Mary did while she was here. It will save us time in the long run if we talk to her first.”

  Five minutes later a young woman dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt came from behind the counter and approached their table. “Hello, I’m Janet Green. Saraphina said you wanted to ask me some questions.”

  “I’m Tess Kelly, Janet. And this is my fiancé, Brett. I was in here two weeks ago with a friend, and she was killed in a hit and run accident later that same day.”

  Janet nodded. “I remember. I waited on you that day. You seemed an unusual pair. She was like a small wren and you’re more a swan.”

  Brett smiled at the quick flush of color that crossed Tess’s cheeks.

  Janet went on. “The police came in and talked to me about her. She came back in about five-thirty and ordered a Chai Tea Latte to go. Her car was parked on the street. She was as nervous then as she seemed when you were in here together that afternoon.”

  “Did she do anything besides order the tea?” Brett asked.

  “She wandered through the displays for a minute, then left.”

  Tess exchanged a glance with him.

  “Did you see her pause at any particular spot?” Tess asked.