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Brandon set down his coffee mug on the table when his phone rang, and when he saw Travis’s number, answered. “Morning. You’re up early.”
“Ker and I are gonna get in a run before work. What about you? Any news since yesterday?”
“No.” He’d filled Travis and Kerrigan in last night before going to bed. “Groz is already on his way to base, and Jaia’s still asleep. Long day yesterday.” Between the morning’s danger and then having to meet with FBI agents, it had been stressful and exhausting.
“Yeah. Any idea where you’re gonna go?”
“Not yet. I’ll talk to her once she gets up.” But they had to leave Groz’s today. His buddy had put himself in harm’s way already by letting them both stay here.
“Let me know once you’re settled, or if you need anything. In the meantime, my dad messaged me about Callum. He said he’s willing to talk to you about Graystone if you want to contact him.”
“That’d be great, thanks.”
“Sure. I’ll text you his info.”
As soon as they ended the call, Callum’s information popped up on screen. He added it to his contacts, looked up when soft footfalls approached the kitchen.
Jaia appeared around the corner a moment later wearing the same clothes from yesterday, now rumpled, her hair down around her shoulders, dark eyes watchful.
Still beautiful, the sight of her like a punch to his senses. “Morning.”
“Morning.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, watching him. “You always an early riser?”
“Mostly. On my off days I’m a fan of sleeping in. Sleep okay?”
“Bits and pieces.”
“That’s understandable.” He rose. “Let me get you some coffee.”
“Oh, no thanks.”
He stopped and arched an eyebrow at her. “You don’t drink coffee?”
She wrinkled her nose. “No. Too bitter. It’s fine, I’ll just have some water.”
He went to the cupboard and looked inside. Nothing but some energy drink powder. He checked the fridge next. “There’s cream for coffee, and some grape juice.” Grape juice? Jesus, Groz.
“Water’s fine, really.”
He took down a glass for her and ran the cold water in the sink. “What do you normally drink first thing in the morning?”
“Chai. I like to make a big pot of it, have a big mug when it’s fresh, and then take a thermos of it with me to work.”
“I’m getting the sense that you don’t mean the tea bags you buy at the store.”
She smiled softly. “No, I make it from scratch with different spices. It’s my mom’s recipe. She always made it for us.”
He turned off the tap and walked to the table, where she met him to take the glass with a murmured thank you. Her manners were something he’d noticed about her right away. She was quiet and polite, impressively composed considering everything that had happened, and her voice was twice as gorgeous in person.
Listening to her speak was the equivalent of meditation for him. The chaotic thoughts in his head slowed, and the tension inside him eased a little.
He went back to the counter to refill his mug. “I had chai a few times when I was deployed to Afghanistan once. Bet it wasn’t half as good as what you make.”
“I’ll make it for you sometime, and then you’ll know.” She pulled out a chair and sat. “Did you hear from anyone else? Your sheriff friend, or...?”
“Noah. No, not since yesterday. But I did get contact information on a former Graystone employee. Someone my sister and other people I trust know. I want to talk to him and see what he has to say.”
“If you think we can trust him, then sure.”
“I’ll wait a bit. It’s still pretty early. In the meantime, what can I get you for breakfast? We’ve got toast, eggs, and a whole shelf of insanely sugar-filled cereal.”
“Toast with butter and jam?”
“You got it.” He stood and busied himself with making it for her, cooking some scrambled eggs for himself and some extra in case she changed her mind.
“How did you sleep?” she asked as he got out the jam and butter.
“Not bad.” Not great either, but at least he’d managed to wake himself up right as the nightmare started instead of going through the whole thing as he usually did.
He was acutely aware of her watching him as he worked and wondered what she was thinking. They were alone here. He didn’t want her feeling uncomfortable. “We need to look for another place to stay for tonight. Do you need anything before we head out?”
“Just a shower. And could I do some laundry?”
“Of course. Do you like your toast cut in half lengthwise, or diagonally?”
She let out a startled laugh. “What?”
He swung around, jam-covered knife in hand. “You don’t like it better one way or another?”
One side of her mouth kicked up, exposing the hint of a dimple in her left cheek. “Not really. But my mother used to cut them into sticks for us with our boiled eggs so we could dip them into the yolk. Eggs and soldiers. It’s a British thing, I guess.”
“I can cut these into strips if you want, and boil some eggs.”
“No, this is fine, and you can cut them any way you want. But thank you.”
He spread the jam on and cut them into sticks anyway. “I wondered about your accent. Did you grow up in the UK?”
“Delhi, and then the UK for a couple of years. Are you from here?”
“Yes.” He turned around and put the plate in front of her. Her expression shifted. She stared down at the little “soldiers,” then bit her lip, and he winced, hating that he’d upset her. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine.” She looked up at him and gave a little smile. “Just makes me think of my mom and brother, that’s all. This is lovely, thank you.”
It was just toast, and he wished he could do a lot more for her. “You’re welcome.” He grabbed his own plate of toast and scrambled eggs and sat across from her.
“You said you have a sister. Any more family?”
“Kerrigan’s three years older than me. She’s an HR manager at a security firm. And my mom and dad still live here in Portland.”
She nodded, munching on a mouthful of toast, and didn’t speak until after she’d swallowed. “Are you close?”
“Pretty close. My sister and I are really tight. Especially after what happened a few weeks ago.”
She stopped, watching him curiously. “What happened?”
“Long story. You change your mind about the eggs? I made extra.”
“No, I’m fine. Thank you.”
He stole covert glances at her as they finished eating. There was so much about her he didn’t know, and he found he wanted to know everything about her.
“Thank you for breakfast. I’m just going to shower and put on my laundry.”
He nodded, took her plate from her when she started past him to the sink. “I got it.”
She gave him another startled smile, then left the room, her subtle scent trailing behind her.
He kept thinking about that hug yesterday. She’d looked so sad and lost, he couldn’t help himself. He’d done it to comfort her, but holding her just for that little while had done something to him as well. And the feel of her, all trusting and curled into him like that.
Yanking himself out of those thoughts, he took out his phone and called Callum. “Hi, this is Brandon Whitaker,” he said when the other man answered. “Travis said it was okay to call.”
“Yeah, for sure, good to hear from you. So, I hear you want to know about Graystone?”
“Yes. Any insight you can give me would be helpful. The other guys I’ve talked to won’t tell me anything.” He only knew that Callum had served in Delta under Boyd for several years. Boyd trusted him, so Brandon instinctively did too.
“I can’t tell you anything about its recent history. I was hired on there when it first opened and finished there last summer before things went tits up.”
“You served as team leader?” Being a former Delta operator, Callum would have had one hell of an impressive resume and likely his pick of positions.
“That’s right. We operated all over doing security work, mostly south Asia and Africa, but other places too.”
“Did you ever hear about shady stuff going on when you were with them?”
“Not with my crew, but near the end I heard rumors about shady shit going down with other ones.”
“Anything specific?”
“Theft. Rumors about roughing up civilians.”
“Nothing else.”
“No, but like I said, I got out before things went south. I heard Jaia’s with you now?”
Travis or Kerrigan must have told him. “Yeah. You know her?”
“I knew her brother. Did some jobs with him overseas, and there’s another guy who worked for the company in Yemen. He’s in Seattle now, I think. I can reach out to him if you want. See if he’d be okay talking to you. He’d know more about everything than me.”
“That’d be awesome.” He paused, glancing behind him to make sure Jaia wasn’t there. “Jaia’s brother. What was he like?”
“Good guy. Solid. Team player. Operated by the rules. We all liked and trusted him.”
Good enough for Brandon. “He apparently knew something bad was happening in Yemen. He told Jaia he couldn’t tell her what it was yet, and then was killed right after that. Jaia thinks it wasn’t an accident.”
A beat of silence passed. “I hope she’s wrong. But Andy will know what really happened. Let me reach out to him and I’ll get back to you. Want to ask me anything else for the moment?”
“No, this has been great. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Watch out for Jaia, will you?”
The phrasing made Brandon tense. “Watch out for her?”
“She and Sukhi were close, apparently like you and your sister are. She’s gotta be having a hard time, on top of whatever’s happening right now.”
He relaxed, relieved that Callum hadn’t told him to be on his guard with her. “I will.”
He slid his phone into his back pocket and started cleaning up the dishes. Jaia was in the shower, he could hear the water running. And immediately he imagined what she’d look like with the water running over her naked body.
“Cool it, Whitaker,” he muttered to himself as he washed out the pan he’d cooked the eggs in.
Just as he was putting the dried plates back in the cupboard, he heard Jaia behind him. He turned to find her dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt that hugged the pert curve of her breasts and flat stomach. She’d pulled her hair up into a ponytail at the back of her head, little wisps free at her temples, and she’d put some kind of pink gloss on her lips that emphasized their fullness.
He had to force his brain back into gear. “I called my contact. He knows a guy who might talk to us. They both served with your brother.”
Something flashed in her eyes. “They did? What are their names?”
“Callum. And Andy. I don’t know their last names.”
“Sukhi mentioned both of them.” She put her hands into her pockets. “Did Callum say anything about my brother’s accident?”
“He said Andy might know something. He’s going to contact him—” He broke off when his phone vibrated. He pulled it out, blinked in surprise. That was fast. “It’s Callum. Andy’s willing to talk to us, but only in person. He’s in Seattle.” He looked up at her to gauge her reaction.
“Is it safe for us to go there right now?” She looked worried.
“I’ll get us a new rental and have the other company pick up the truck I drove yesterday.” He wouldn’t risk driving it again in case whoever had chased Jaia had tagged his plates. “It’s a risk, but everything else has been a dead end so far—”
“You’re right.” She shook her head, lifted her chin, her expression composed yet determined. “If you want to meet Andy, then I’ll go with you.”
****
Jaia kept the brim of her baseball cap pulled low over her forehead and stayed hunched down slightly in the passenger seat of the rental car as Brandon drove them north on the I-5. It had rained steadily for the past two hours, and the weather had made the rush hour congestion worse, putting the driving time at over three hours from Portland to Seattle.
They were cutting it close. The scheduled meeting time was in less than twenty minutes, and she was getting more and more anxious. They hadn’t talked much on the trip here, just the occasional thing about her brother and other men she knew of that he’d been deployed with for Graystone.
Brandon remained quiet behind the wheel, alert and watchful. It helped calm her anxiety a little. She trusted him instinctively and felt much safer with him than she did on her own. She was bursting with questions about his time in Yemen, including his captivity. Every time she thought about him being taken prisoner, him being beaten and interrogated, how scared he must have been in spite of his training and bravery, it wrenched her heart.
“Think we’ll make it on time?” she finally asked.
“Should be okay.” He merged into the slow lane and took the next exit. The traffic was lighter here, most of the slowdowns due to traffic lights.
The green-gray waters of Puget Sound appeared in the distance at the bottom of the hill. Their destination was under the bridge at the bottom, a marina full of boats and houseboats.
The radio played quietly in the background, but the lack of conversation was starting to wear on her. “Never been on a houseboat before. Makes me think of Sleepless in Seattle. Have you seen it?”
The hint of smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “Once, a long time ago. Not really my thing.”
She held her tongue the rest of the way, remaining watchful and taking her cues from Brandon. If he wasn’t worried they’d been followed, then they must be okay.
The marina parking lot was almost full when they arrived. Brandon reversed into a spot near the far dock and turned off the engine. “You want to stay here and wait?”
“No, I’ll come with you.” Sitting here alone in plain sight would make this a hundred times worse.
“Okay. Let’s go.” He opened his door and slid out, giving her a glimpse of his pistol holstered beneath the back of his shirt. She didn’t like guns, never had, but in this instance, she was glad he was armed.
Putting on a calm mask, she got out and followed him to the dock. The briny scent of the water was heavy in the air, the breeze carrying the cries of gulls and other birds.
They made their way down the gangplank and onto the dock. The water was a dark, almost emerald green, its calm surface reflecting the cloudy sky disturbed by the falling raindrops.
Beautiful. But for her, dangerous.
They walked toward the second dock jutting perpendicular out into the water, their steps sounding hollow on the wooden planks. She spotted two men at the top of the far gangplank at the north side of the marina just before they disappeared into the parking lot and dismissed them, hurrying to keep up with Brandon’s long strides.
They passed rows of moored boats bobbing in the water. The houseboats sat past them at the end, painted in a rainbow of colors. Andy’s was apparently the dark blue one at—
A woman’s scream ripped through the air. Jaia froze, the hair on the back of her neck rising.
In front of her Brandon immediately stopped and put an arm out, corralling her behind him, his free hand going for the grip of his weapon, looking in the direction the scream had come from.
“Help! Someone help me!” A woman ran out onto the dock in front of the houseboats, looking around frantically, then her gaze landed on them. “He’s been shot!”
The blood drained from Jaia’s face as the implication hit home. Not Andy...
“Stay here,” Brandon said in a low voice.
“No,” she answered automatically. She wasn’t standing out here in the open all by herself.
She raced after him as he ran toward the woman. Other people were poking their heads out of their front doors to see what was going on as they passed.
The elderly woman stood wringing her hands as they approached, expression pinched. “I heard something next door, and when I looked out the window, I saw two men leave. I went to see if he was okay and found him lying on the kitchen floor.” She gestured to the navy blue houseboat.
Andy’s.
“Call 911,” Brandon said, drawing his weapon as he approached the front door.
Jaia whipped around to search for the men she’d seen before, but they were gone. She didn’t have a phone, so she hung back, staying on the front porch while he opened the door, and the woman fumbled to get her phone out.
She waited a few moments, and when nothing happened, edged closer to peer through the open front door. It was dim inside except for the light on at the back, in what she assumed was the kitchen. She saw the outline of someone’s legs sprawled out on the floor, and the dark pool of blood glistening around them.
Her stomach lurched. She swallowed, stayed put as Brandon rose and walked back to her with quick strides.
Her heart thudded. Not good. “Is it Andy?”
He nodded, face grim. “He’s dead,” he said quietly. “Shot twice, center mass.”
Not just murdered. Assassinated. “God.”
She stepped back to give him room, a chill spreading through her. He must have been killed just moments before they’d arrived. “I saw two men heading for the parking lot just before—”
“I saw them too.” He took her arm and kept walking. “We gotta get out of here, now.”
The elderly neighbor stood on the dock, facing them as she spoke into her phone. She paused, watching them. “Is he...”
Brandon shook his head. “I’m sorry. Are the cops on the way?”
Her face twisted. “Y-yes,” she managed.
Brandon kept walking, his grip firm on Jaia’s upper arm. “Come on.”
She rushed beside him back the way they’d come past curious onlookers starting to gather around, conscious of his hand behind him on the butt of his weapon. “Any chance this isn’t connected to us?” she half-whispered, hoping she was wrong.
“Too much of a coincidence not to be.”
Oh God... Had one of the shooters chased her yesterday in Portland? Were they from the hit team that had initially targeted Brandon?
“Did they see us?” Her fearful gaze darted up to the parking lot above them. What if they were watching right now? Waiting for them to come into range?
“I don’t know.” He paused at the end of the dock near the bottom of the gangway. “Stay here and wait until I signal you.” He started up it, hand on his weapon. At the top he crouched and looked around, then waved for her to follow.
Jaia hurried up behind him, crouching down too. She could only see the near half of the lot, nobody moving around.
“Stay close,” he said, then rose and rushed toward their vehicle.
Jaia ran around to the passenger side and ripped the door open as soon as he unlocked the vehicle. They both jumped in, and he took off for the entrance. When she glanced in her mirror, she saw a crowd of people gathered down on the dock in front of Andy’s boathouse.
Apprehension settled inside her, heavy as a boulder. If they had shown up a few minutes earlier, she and Brandon would likely be lying dead beside Andy.
