need to sleep out here where I can keep an eye on things.”
Her mind went back to the shooting, and a shudder ran through her. She wondered if the men in the black SUV were still in Dallas. It didn’t seem likely they would know she had left with Bran Garrett and that she was currently back in Colorado Springs.
Of course, as soon as she returned to the base and started asking questions, her whereabouts would be more than clear.
Bran pulled the file out of his carry-on, carried it over to the dining table, and pulled out a chair. Jessie joined him. He opened the folder, shuffled aside the investigative report he had read last night, picked up her father’s autopsy, and studied the pages.
“I assume you’ve seen this.” He pointed to the report. “Cause of death is listed as a heart attack. I don’t see anything here that looks suspicious.”
“I know they killed him. I’m not sure how they did it, but my dad had the heart of an elephant. His last physical was only a few months before he died. He called me to brag about how well he had done. He told me the doctor said he was in superior physical condition. Even his cholesterol levels were good. We laughed about it because I had been bugging him to eat less red meat.”
“Things like that can happen out of the blue,” Bran said. “Maybe the shock of being accused of such serious crimes then locked behind bars was too much for him.”
“My dad was a soldier. He’d faced enemy fire in combat. He was in charge of a huge operation at the depot. He was used to handling stress.”
Bran looked down at the autopsy. “We’ll talk to the medical examiner, ask him if there is any possibility the heart attack could have been artificially triggered, see what he has to say.”
“Actually, I’ve been thinking of having my father’s body exhumed. The idea makes me nauseous, but I know how important Dad’s reputation was to him. He would want me to do everything in my power to prove his innocence.”
Bran leaned back in his chair, his brilliant blue eyes assessing. “You understand at this point your theory is purely conjecture. You have nothing to substantiate your claim.”
“Even if I’m wrong, at least I’d know.”
Bran scrubbed a hand over his face. “The fact you have people willing to shoot you to keep you from investigating is enough to make me think there’s a chance you could be right. After we talk to the ME, you can decide if you want to have the colonel’s body exhumed. Painful as it’s going to be for you, maybe it will help clear the air.”
They discussed the case into the early evening, then Bran ordered room service, steak for him, chicken for her, salad for both of them. He also ordered a bottle of red wine. When they finished the meal, he folded out the sofa bed in the living room, which was already made up with sheets, and grabbed a blanket out of the closet.
Jessie helped him spread the blanket over the mattress and retrieve the pillows. “Have a good night,” she said when they finished. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night.”
There was a powder room off the entry for Bran to use, which meant she had privacy until tomorrow when he would need to use the shower in her en-suite bathroom.
She yawned as she closed the door, more exhausted than she had expected. She fell asleep quickly and slept far better than she had the night before, then rose at the first gray light of dawn. She took a shower and got ready for the day, dressed in a conservative dark brown skirt suit and heeled pumps, then quietly cracked open the door to the living room.
Bran was already up, standing with his back to her, one hand on his hip, the other pressing his cell phone against his ear. A pair of white cotton briefs that hugged his round behind was all he had on.
Jessie’s mouth went dry. His suntanned back was smooth, except for a jagged scar on one side, and ridged with solid muscle. Bands of muscle defined his shoulders and arms, and long sinewy legs tapered down to toned calves and narrow feet.
She told herself to close the door before Bran caught her staring at him like a juicy piece of meat, but instead she just stood there, her heart pounding, her breathing a little ragged.