that pointed in one direction. Edgar Weaver, at Holloway’s urging, had arranged her father’s death. But the discussion had never gotten off the ground.
Jessie brought up the file she had been creating. She went over each detail, stringing the pieces together, along with pertinent facts. She pulled up the pages she had copied from Georgia court records showing Weaver’s ties to the Aryan Brotherhood. Janos Petrov, Harley “Digger” Graves, and Wayne “Tank” Coffman, all members of the Brotherhood, had been enlisted by Weaver to put an end to her investigation before Holloway’s role could be discovered. Even if they had to kill her.
Petrov had been murdered by Coffman, directed by Weaver. Now Tank was dead.
She put in everything she knew about Mara Ramos, though with Mara in custody, it was information Tripp must already know or have access to. She needed the agent to question Mara about the personal information she had stolen from James Kegan—without his knowledge. Information later used to set up the fake offshore account that made him the scapegoat for the theft of the weapons.
Satisfied with what she’d assembled, she saved the file. She wanted to print the information for Tripp and Larkin, but to do that she would have to go down to the business center. As tempting as it was, she decided to wait until Chase arrived.
Jessie said a silent prayer that it would be soon.
THIRTY-FOUR
It was dark when Chase arrived in the Garrett Resources Citation at the Colorado Springs Municipal Airport. He had two car rentals waiting. Jason Maddox took the Jeep Cherokee and headed for the Broadmoor Hotel to provide protection for Jessie. Chase and a private military attorney named Russell Addison got into a rented silver Lincoln sedan and drove straight to the base.
The gate guard checked their IDs. In his long-ago military days, Chase had been an army MP. As a military attorney, Addison also had the appropriate credentials.
Unfortunately, once they reached the detention facility, no amount of persuasion could entice the operations officer at the front desk to allow them in to see a detainee named Brandon Garrett.
“I’m afraid visiting hours are long over,” said a female staff sergeant named Holmsby. “You’ll have to call in the morning and make arrangements to speak to him.”
Chase fought a surge of frustration. “Would you at least relay the message that his brother Chase is here. Tell him I’ll be back in the morning, accompanied by his attorney.”
She cocked an iron gray eyebrow. Holmsby was a stocky, no-nonsense sort of woman suited perfectly for the job. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try.”
“Thank you.” He shouldn’t have been disappointed. He knew how the system worked. Rules were not made to be broken.
They left the base and drove to the Broadmoor. He wished he had better news. He had no idea what sort of relationship Jessie and his brother had, but he had heard the possessive note in Bran’s voice whenever he talked about her.
And Jessie certainly seemed to care about him.
“Beautiful hotel,” Addison remarked as Chase turned into the long, stately drive leading to the impressive front entrance. “I’ve stayed here before.”
“My brother’s tastes have definitely improved since he left the army.”
Addison smiled. “From what I read in his file, he deserves a little luxury.”
Chase thought of the rugged conditions in Afghanistan and other abysmal spots Brandon had been deployed, as well as their recent adventure in the Colombian rain forest. “That’s for sure.”
He pulled up in front of the Broadmoor, a grandiose cluster of pink stucco buildings over a century old. With Maddox there, Jessie should be safe.
But worrying about Bran’s safety until morning was going to make it a long night for everyone.
* * *
Bran lay on the top bunk in his cell on the ground floor of the detention facility. He was alone, which he saw as good news. If someone entered the cell to attack him during the night, he would have more room to maneuver.
His stomach growled, reminding him of his decision to skip the day’s meals. Colonel Kegan’s lunch had been tampered with. Whatever had been in it had made him sick and ultimately gotten him killed.
No way was he taking that chance.
It was quiet along the row of cells. Lights out, the occasional sound of someone shuffling around in the darkness, but nobody talking. He wondered if he’d have a visitor in the night, and if so, which guard had been paid off and how much money it was worth to unlock the door