was gonna puke, punch Brady, or throw Hadley over his shoulder and lock her in her bedroom.”
“Seriously?” I laughed.
“Oh, yeah. It was fucking hilarious.”
“There’s my big brother.”
“Come again?”
“My big brother. Smiling, happy, giving me the latest gossip. My Jason.”
“Addy—”
“I fucking love you, Jason. Don’t ever doubt that. Not for a single second. I remember. Every minute growing up with you. Everything you taught me. All the love you gave. I’ve never forgotten. I never will.”
“Right.” Jason’s eyes darted around the gym before they found the floor. I waited for him to stop inspecting every particle of dust that collected on the very clean, gleaming wood floor. In other words, I waited for him to regain his composure. “Better get back to work.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, just a by the by, I’ll be waiting for my invite to your new pad. I hear there’s a sweet pool and a wine cellar. And make that soon, wouldya?”
“It’s not my pad.”
Jason’s head actually tipped back as he roared with laughter. And when it didn’t look like he was going to stop anytime soon, I snapped, “What’s funny?”
“You are.”
“I don’t see how.”
My brother shook his head and started walking across the gym, this time he wasn’t prowling but he was walking quickly so I shouted at his back.
“What’s funny?”
“I want an invite.”
The door closed behind him and I was thinking that my brother had a screw loose when my phone chimed with a text. I glanced at the clock and noticed it was lunchtime, and since Trey and I missed breakfast, I was starved.
I grabbed my purse out of my desk drawer even though I wouldn’t need it. Trey had yet to allow me to pay, but I’d still offer, and swiped my cell.
I was halfway across the gym when I engaged my phone and pulled up the text.
The number wasn’t programmed in, so I tapped the nameless text and a picture popped up.
Oh my God.
Oh, no.
I willed my legs to work but they were rooted in place.
So I did the only thing I could do.
I screamed as loud as I could.
He’d come.
He always did.
30
“What the hell?”
I looked up from the report Nick handed me five minutes before and found he was scowling, obviously not liking the intel Dylan had dug up either.
“Cover-up. All the way to the top,” Nick unnecessarily told me since I could damn well read and Dylan was good at his job. The dots were not hard to connect.
“And Belview’s gone.”
“Supposed to be in Wyoming with his team on a training exercise.”
That information was also in the report. Belview was at the VA for a routine psych eval after a deployment. He’d passed his evaluation—his whole team had—and they were sent out on a work-up.
“Supposed? Dylan’s got the flight log.” I tapped the document. “His name’s on it.”
“Gut tells me he’s not on that flight.”
When Nick Clark, former FBI profiler with the Behavior Analysis Unit, says he has a gut feeling, it really means he’s studied the subject well and good. Further, it means you listen to him because he’s damn smart and never wrong.
“I watched the footage from the café. We got lucky and Belview’s facing the camera. I was able to write a transcript of the conversation. The tone changes when Jasper’s brought up.”
“Yeah, Addy said Belview got pissed, said something about Jasper being a hard man to follow or some bullshit.”
“Right. What he said after that was, ‘Especially if he blocks the way.’ Then he went on to say, ‘No man will ever be as perfect as him. No man will live up to Jasper Walker. In your eyes, no man will ever love you like he does.’ And in his, ‘he thinks he knows what’s best for everybody.’ Addy said something else and Belview finished with, ‘You compared me to him every day. And when you weren’t, everyone else was. The great Jasper fucking Walker.’ That’s when you come into the frame and stop the argument. I’ve watched that footage a hundred times. Belview was hiding, keeping his shit together until Addy mentions her dad. Then he can’t hide it. His disdain is for Jasper. Not Addy. Not you. When you entered, you cut him off from Addy—that was a hit to his ego, but he’d actually calmed himself.”
Not that I would disagree with Nick, but I thought back to that day in the café. I had Belview in profile, but I hadn’t missed the tightness in his frame. They looked like two people arguing. But it wasn’t until