general would want to hear from them both.
“Near as we can tell,” Bran said, “Weaver used his Aryan Brotherhood connections to arrange the colonel’s murder. That, combined with someone planting money in a forged offshore account, deflected the investigation away from the real thieves.”
“Weaver was moved from the penitentiary in Georgia to ADMAX because he found a way to continue giving orders to the Brotherhood,” Jessie said. “We believe that’s exactly what he’s still doing.”
“After I spoke to you this morning,” the general said, “I received a call from Special Agent Tripp, CID. Weaver’s first name is Edgar. He’s been convicted of three brutal murders and been implicated in half a dozen more.”
“Fits what we were told,” Bran said.
“CID investigators specifically asked Coffman about Weaver, but he insists he’s innocent of all charges and says he’s never heard of anyone by that name.”
“Apparently, he’s more afraid of the man who hired him than being held on terrorism charges,” Jessie said.
“Which gives you an idea of the kind of man we’re dealing with,” Bran stated.
The general sat up a little straighter. “Our people are good at what they do. They’ll be pressing Coffman hard, but from what they tell me, I’m not convinced anything short of waterboarding will get him to talk—and you know the odds of that happening.”
Jessie thought of the fifteen thousand pounds of missing chemical weapons and the hundreds of lives at stake and understood the moral dilemma.
The general rose from the table. “I’ll let you know if anything changes. I’d appreciate if you’d do the same for me. Should you run across information that might give us a break in the case, I want you to call me.” He handed Bran and Jessie each a card. “My direct number is listed at the bottom.”
“Thank you, sir,” Bran said.
“In the meantime, unless we can come up with a credible link between Coffman and the missing weapons, he’ll be released back into civilian custody to face multiple murder charges.”
Bran’s jaw clenched. “I’d appreciate if you’d hold him as long as you possibly can.”
The general nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
TWENTY-FIVE
By the time they left Fort Carson and headed back to the motel, the temperature was sliding toward freezing. To the north, the sky had turned an ominous shade of bluish purple, a harbinger of snow.
Jessie was driving. Bran fidgeted occasionally, not used to someone else being in control. She might have smiled if she weren’t so worried and disappointed. As it was, unless Coffman talked, they had reached a dead end.
“So what do we do now?” she asked into the gloomy silence muted only by the hum of the Honda’s engine.
“I talked to Hunter Brady,” Bran said. “He’s one of the PIs at The Max in San Diego. Hunt ran a check on Mara Ramos, says the DMV address for her is still valid. Mara lives in an apartment in La Jolla.”
“We really need to talk to her.” Though she definitely wasn’t looking forward to meeting her dad’s...what? Paramour? Mistress? Hookup? Or was she someone who’d been involved in the conspiracy that got him killed?
If Bran was right, Mara could have slept with her father to gain access to his credit cards and other personal data in order to help the thieves deposit money in an offshore account in his name.
Bran stared out the window at the overcast sky. “Storm’s sweeping down from the north. I’ll check with FAA flight service, see if I can figure a way to fly south before the bad weather hits. If we can get out of Colorado, we should be able to make sunny California easy enough.”
“Sounds good.”
“As soon as we get back to the motel, we’ll check things out and make a plan. Colt may be there by now with my gear.”
Bran’s tall blond friend was there, indeed. Waiting inside their room though he didn’t have a key. Bran seemed unfazed.
“Jessie, this is Colt Wheeler. We met in the army. He’s the guy who helped me bring Tank in.” Blond and blue-eyed, even with a black patch over one eye and a scar along his jaw, the guy was beyond good-looking. Or maybe the war wounds were part of his sex appeal.
Jessie had more than she could handle with one hot male. “Nice to meet you, Colt. Thanks for helping Brandon.”
He just shrugged. “No problem.” He had a broad-shouldered, V-shaped build similar to Bran’s, probably from years of the same kind of training. “Just glad he’s out of jail.”
“Me, too,” Jessie said. While