hunter. “Couldn’t get a plate number.” Jax’s gaze swung to the front of the room. “Mindy, you okay?”
She eased up from beneath her desk. “I—I’m okay. Should I call the police?” Around here, it was never good to jump to conclusions.
Bran hauled Jessie to her feet. He could feel her trembling. Her eyes looked even bigger and brighter than they had before. “Are they coming back?” he asked.
“I—I don’t know. It could have just been a warning.”
Bran turned to Mindy. “Unless someone’s already phoned it in, let’s wait to call the cops till we know what’s going on.” His attention returned to Jessie. “We need to talk.”
She just nodded. Her face had gone pale, making a fine line of freckles stand out on her forehead and the bridge of her nose.
Bran took her arm and urged her toward the conference room. “Keep a sharp eye,” he said to The Max crew. “Just in case.”
* * *
Jessie sank unsteadily into one of the rolling chairs around the long oak conference table. The man she had come to see, Brandon Garrett, sat down beside her.
“Okay, let’s hear it,” he said. “What’s going on?”
She thought of the men who had just shot up his office and her pulse started thumping again. “Danny said if I ever needed help—”
“Yeah, I get that. Your brother knew he could count on me. Like I said, I’ll help you any way I can, but I need to know what’s going on.”
Bran was taller than Danny, around six-three, she guessed, with a soldier’s lean, hard body, V-shaped, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. Powerful biceps bulged beneath the sleeves of his dark blue T-shirt. With his slightly too-long mink-brown hair, straight nose and masculine features, he was ridiculously handsome, except for the hard line of his jaw and the darkness in his eyes that contrasted sharply with their beautiful shade of cobalt blue.
“Start at the beginning,” he said.
Jessie took a shaky breath and let it out slowly, giving herself time to think. “I’m not exactly sure where the beginning actually is. My father was Colonel James Kegan, Commander, US Army Alamo Chemical Depot.”
Bran nodded. “Danny mentioned that. He was very proud of his dad.”
“Dad was proud of Danny, too. He was a great father.”
Bran’s gaze narrowed on her face. “You said was. When did he die?”
“He died on August 15. I still have trouble believing he’s actually gone.”
“I’m sorry.”
“My father is the reason I’m here. Just before he died, a little over two months ago, he was removed from active duty. He was charged with larceny—the theft of military property, specifically chemical weapons stored at the depot. Because the army believed he was selling the weapons to a foreign entity, he was also charged with espionage and treason, and confined to the stockade at Fort Carson. At the hearing he pleaded not guilty to all charges, but he died before he could prove it.”
Bran leaned back in his chair. “The timing’s unfortunate to say the least.”
“That’s the thing. My father didn’t just conveniently have a heart attack five days after they arrested him. He was murdered. The perfect scapegoat for the real criminals.”
Bran’s gaze sharpened. “How do you fit into the picture, and why were those men shooting at you?”
“I’m a freelance journalist. I investigate unsolved crimes, environmental disasters, political scandals, celebrity misdeeds, anything that makes an interesting story and maybe does some good. Mostly the articles are published digitally in online magazines. But I have a certain reputation for thoroughness and honesty that has helped me grow a sizable audience. In other words, I’m good at my job.”
A corner of his mouth edged up. She remembered her brother telling her that Brandon Garrett was a heartbreaker and that if Danny ever brought him home, she was forbidden to go out with him. Not that she ever paid much attention to her older brother when it came to dating. But now that she had met Bran, she understood her brother’s warning.
“I’m guessing you decided to investigate the theft of chemical weapons from the depot,” Bran said. “The crime your father was charged with.”
“The crime my father was wrongly accused of committing.”
“All right, we’ll assume for now that’s true.”
“It’s true. I know my father. He was a soldier’s soldier, army all the way. Add to that, he was a patriot. He would never do anything to harm our country or the people in it. Those munitions stored at the depot? The contents are deadly. God only knows how many