“Since you were working in Dallas at the time of the judge’s murder—verified by several people in your office—it looks like you’re going to walk.”
The tension in his shoulders relaxed. “About damn time.”
Galen smiled. “Guy with your skills needs a little set down once in a while. Keeps you humble.”
He almost smiled at the backward compliment, decided to take his brother’s advice instead. “So I’m free to go?”
“There’ll be some paperwork for you to sign on the way out. You can pick up your phone and your personal items before you leave, but yes, you can go.”
“What about my rental car?”
“CSIs are still working on it. Might find something on Coffman we can use. You can pick it up from the impound lot in a day or two. We’ll let you know.”
It wasn’t the best news. He was anxious to get back to Jessie. He’d Uber to Hertz and rent another vehicle, figure a way to get the SUV picked up. He rose from his chair as the door swung open and one of the deputies stuck his head in.
“We got a problem, Mace. Army MPs are here for Coffman. They got a warrant, something about terrorism. They want him now and they mean business.”
Galen flicked a glance at Bran. “I don’t know whether to be happy about this or pissed.” He followed the deputy into the corridor.
Terrorism. One way to get the bastard to talk. Bran couldn’t help wondering if Jessie had a hand in this. He caught up with Galen as he walked down the hall.
“Any idea where they’re taking him?” Bran asked.
Galen turned. “Wherever it is, the guy will be lucky if he ever sees the light of day again.”
Worry settled over him. A terrorism charge was bad news. What if the army made Tank disappear into a dark hole somewhere. They needed him to get to Weaver. Jessie wouldn’t be safe until whoever stole the weapons was arrested. The thieves wanted her silenced. There were millions of dollars at stake. Tank was out of the picture, but there was always another killer for hire.
He collected his things, signed the release papers, and walked toward the front door. His mind was on Jessie and the fastest way back to her when he heard a familiar, softly feminine voice.
“Hey, soldier. Need a ride?”
The oddest sensation stole over him, a warm glow, like a long-awaited homecoming. He turned and smiled, thinking how pretty she looked even with her fiery hair mussed and no makeup. “Yeah, sexy lady. I do.”
The minute he reached her, he wrapped her in his arms. “Thanks for coming,” he said against her cheek, then he tipped her face up and very thoroughly kissed her.
TWENTY-FOUR
At the warmth she’d seen in Bran’s eyes, a lump formed in Jessie’s throat. She returned his kiss, clinging to him tighter than she should have. She’d been so worried. The relief she felt now made her eyes sting.
She forced herself to step away. It was dangerous to allow her feelings for Bran to grow, and yet she couldn’t seem to stop them. She managed to smile and tried to make light of the situation.
“You realize you smell like the inside of a sleazy bar, right?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I do. Not much I can do about it at the moment. Let’s get out of here so I can get cleaned up, and you can fill me in on what’s been going on.” He stopped at the top of the front steps, his dark brows pulling together. “How’d you get here?”
“Ty drove me to the airport and I picked up my car. I almost passed out at the long-term parking fee.”
“Dammit, Jess, what if the damned thing’s bugged?”
She just shrugged. “Ty and I took a look but didn’t find anything. Besides, I had to get down here. There were things I needed to do.”
“Where’d you park?”
She pointed. “The white Honda Accord just down the block.”
He grabbed her hand and started tugging her in that direction, careful to keep an eye out for any sign of trouble. Now that Petrov was dead, Graves most likely on the run, and Tank under military arrest, he had no idea what situation they might be facing.
His Glock had been returned unloaded, along with two full magazines. When he reached the car, he pulled the gun out of the plastic bag that held his personal items, shoved one of the mags into the grip, then clipped the holster onto his belt beneath his Henley and