kill him, it would be a lot easier once he was out of his cell.”
Bran walked her to the passenger side of the Expedition and pulled open the door. “The thought occurred to me. If the heart attack was actually induced, it would almost have to be done away from his cell.”
“That’s right. Even it they disabled the video camera, whoever gave him the drug would probably have to sign the visitor registry.”
Bran nodded, playing the theory out. “So they feed him something that makes him sick and give him the drug at the hospital or on the way there.”
“Exactly. Which means until we find out something different, it’s still possible he was murdered.”
* * *
Following Jessie’s directions, Bran turned onto Titus Boulevard, rounded the traffic circle onto Sheridan, and eventually pulled up in front of 1633 Mekong Street. Building 6222, the Judge Advocate’s Office, was a no-nonsense two-story white stucco building a little less than two miles from the ME’s office.
The military counsel Jessie’s father had chosen was a major named Thomas Anson. According to what Jessie had told Bran, she had visited the attorney several times and spoken at length with him on the phone. Fifteen minutes early for their appointment, they were shown into his office to wait.
Both of them took seats in front of his desk, and a few minutes later Anson walked in and closed the door. They both rose to greet him.
“It’s good to see you, Jessie.” Anson smiled and reached out to take hold of her hand, clasping it in both of his and holding it a little longer than necessary. His greeting held the kind of warmth Bran understood. Clearly, the major, in his thirties, brown-haired and good-looking, would like to get to know Colonel Kegan’s daughter a whole lot better.
Not going to happen, Bran thought, feeling an unexpected surge of possessiveness. For the moment, Jessie was under his protection. The look in the major’s dark eyes did not sit well.
Jessie made the introductions. “Thomas, this is Brandon Garrett. He was a close friend of my brother’s. They served together in Afghanistan.”
The major looked him over, taking in his height and build. “I understand Daniel Kegan was Special Forces. Shall I assume you were, as well?”
“That’s right.”
“It’s good to meet you.” But it was clear he saw Bran as a rival and he wasn’t pleased. The men shook hands, then the major took a seat behind his desk. “What can I do for you?”
“We have some additional questions about the investigation,” Jessie said. “Also, we need a list of the visitors who came to see my father, particularly those who were there the day he died. I was told you have that information.”
The major released a weary sigh. “I was hoping you’d be able to deal with what happened and move on with your life, Jessie. Obviously that hasn’t happened.”
“My father was innocent, Thomas. I intend to prove it.”
“You must believe I did my best to defend the charges against him. Espionage, larceny, and treason are extremely serious offenses. Everything pointed to your father’s guilt, particularly the hundred thousand dollars in his offshore bank account.”
“He explained that to you,” she said. “That’s what you told me. Someone set up the account in his name and put the money in to make it look like he was involved in the theft.”
“Yes, that’s what he said.”
“How did the CID find the account?” Bran asked.
“They had a warrant to search his home. MPs took his computer, among other evidence. The bank information was found on his laptop.”
Bran leaned forward. “Very convenient, wouldn’t you say? A secret bank account worth a cool hundred grand sitting right there on his computer—the payoff for deadly chemical weapons possibly worth a hundred times that much on the black market, maybe a whole lot more?”
Anson’s jaw subtly tightened. “Even if you’re right, there’s no way to prove it.”
“I guess we’ll see,” Bran said.
“The ME mentioned you had access to the security camera video,” Jessie said. “I assume you’ve looked at it.”
The major’s gaze swung back to her and the warmth returned. “Of course. There was only a limited amount of footage, but I didn’t see anything unusual.”
“What about the stolen munitions?” Bran asked. “Have they been recovered yet?”
“Unfortunately, the weapons are still missing. No sign of them has turned up so far.”
“Got any idea how much inventory was taken?” he asked.
“The information is classified so even if I knew—which I don’t—I couldn’t tell you.”