more than two weeks,” Bran continued. “Isn’t that right?”
Frazier nervously cleared his throat. “I found a discrepancy that indicated an accounting problem. At that point, I didn’t know the munitions had been stolen.”
“So you reported that a glitch showed an error in the number of munitions that had arrived at the plant.”
“Yes.”
“What did my father say when you reported the problem?” Jessie asked.
“He was extremely concerned—as of course he would be.”
“And?” Jessie prodded.
“And he said that he didn’t want to rush to the conclusion the munitions were actually missing until he was certain the computer hadn’t made another mistake.”
“Didn’t that seem like a reasonable thing to do?” Bran asked. “Confirm it wasn’t another system error? Maybe the weapons had been logged improperly, maybe they were misfiled, something like that?”
“At...at the time it made sense.”
“Did my father ask you to look for the missing weapons?” Jessie asked.
“Yes.”
“But instead, you took it upon yourself to go over the colonel’s head and report them missing to General Holloway, his direct superior at CMA.”
Frazier moistened his lips. “I was worried about public safety.”
“Did you tell my father that?” Jessie asked.
When Frazier didn’t answer, Bran gripped his shoulder and forced him to sit down in the swivel chair. “You heard the lady. Did you tell Colonel Kegan that you’d gone to General Holloway? That you were worried about public safety?”
Frazier shook his head. The color had leached out of his face, making his freckles stand out. “I trusted the colonel’s judgment.” The torment in Frazier’s face was unmistakable. He kept glancing toward the door, and Bran had a feeling he knew exactly why the man had gone to Holloway.
“Then what made you change your mind?” he asked.
Frazier looked up at him. “I c-can’t tell you.”
Bran squeezed Frazier’s shoulder, not too hard, just enough to make his point. “Oh, you’re going to tell me. Did the colonel ever talk about his son?”
The change of subject had Frazier’s head coming up. “His son...? Yes. His son was a Special Forces soldier.”
“That’s right. Danny and I served together in the same spec ops military unit.” Bran’s ruthless smile made the rest of the blood slide out of Frazier’s face. “So you’re beginning to get the picture. You can either tell me the truth, or I can do things to you that will convince you. I don’t want to do that. You’re a family man with a wife and three kids. Tell me why you went to Holloway. Was it money? Those weapons are worth a small fortune. You told Jessie that when she talked to you before. How much did they pay you to help them frame Colonel Kegan?”
Frazier started shaking. Bran kept his hand firmly on Frazier’s shoulder, making the threat clear. He could bring the man to his knees in seconds. “I’m waiting...”
Frazier swallowed. “It wasn’t the money,” he said shakily. “I respected Colonel Kegan. I had no idea what they planned to do to him.”
“If it wasn’t the money, what was it?” Jessie asked, but Bran was even more certain he knew.
Frazier looked up at him, his eyes bleak. “They...they threatened my family. By then I was sure it wasn’t an accounting error and the weapons had actually been stolen. I needed to talk to the colonel, but it was very late by then so I planned to see him first thing in the morning.”
“Go on,” Bran urged when Frazier paused.
“As I drove home from the plant that night, a vehicle followed me. Two men in a pickup forced me off the road. They had guns. They said I should report the theft to Holloway the next morning. They said if I didn’t, Tina and the kids would have a very bad accident. They knew where I lived, knew that my wife was a kindergarten teacher at Alamo Elementary, knew my kids’ names. I believed they would do what they said.”
“So instead of talking to the colonel you reported the theft directly to the CMA,” Bran said.
Frazier nodded. “I told General Holloway about the missing weapons. It never occurred to me it would lead to the colonel’s arrest and ultimately his death.”
“Or murder,” Jessie said.
Frazier looked as if he had taken another blow. “Dear God.”
“We don’t know for sure,” Bran said. “But it’s a distinct possibility.”
“We need to know how many weapons were stolen,” Jessie said.
Frazier ran a trembling hand over his carrot-red hair. One glance at the implacable look on Bran’s face and he started talking. “A truckload. That’s three pallets. Each pallet holds