SEVEN
They couldn’t get in to see General Holloway, her father’s superior, until he returned from a meeting at the Blue Grass Depot in Kentucky.
In the meantime, Jessie set up an appointment with the project manager for Weidner, a man named Robert De La Garza, for ten o’clock the next morning. She also hoped to speak to Charles Frazier again. Frazier said he’d reported the missing munitions directly to the CMA because her father hadn’t acted swiftly enough. He was concerned the weapons were a threat to national security.
She wanted Bran to question him, see if he could get something more out of him.
Over cheesesteak sandwiches and fries during a late lunch at Charley’s on the base, they took a cursory look at the visitors list, but nothing jumped out at either one of them. A few of the names were unfamiliar, people her father knew that Jessie had never met. They needed to follow up on those, but equally important was discovering who had contact with her father before his heart attack.
Kitchen stewards and orderlies, nurses, even doctors couldn’t be overlooked.
“You realize you could be following a wild-goose chase,” Bran reminded her as they finished the last of their meals and began to pack up paper cups and soiled wrappers.
“I know I could be wrong, but I just don’t think I am.”
He tossed the trash in the can. “I believe in following your gut. We’ll keep working our latest theory, see what turns up.”
Jessie flashed him a grateful smile. “Thanks for sticking with me on this.”
He just nodded.
Before they left the base, Bran stopped to pick up his weapon at the armory. It was late in the afternoon when the SUV rolled along Club House Drive, heading back to the resort.
“Besides going over the main list of visitors,” Bran said, “we need to find out who else came in contact with your father that last day.”
Jessie sighed. “It’s not going to be easy.”
“We’ll start on it tomorrow. I think we’ve done enough for today.”
Weariness washed over her. “It’s after five. I could really use a glass of wine.” She summoned a tired smile. “Scratch that. I’d kill for a cosmo.”
Bran chuckled. “We can do that. Too early for supper, but I could use a snack of some kind.” Instead of heading for the building that housed their second-floor suite, Bran drove up in front of the entrance to the resort and parked the SUV.
As they walked into the open, high-ceilinged lobby with its gray rock walls and heavy wooden beams, Jessie was reminded that today was October 31. Jack-o’-lanterns flickered on tables, orange and black crepe paper draped from ceilings, gauzy spiderwebs clung to walls, and the staff all wore costumes.
“Halloween,” Jessie said. “My least favorite holiday.”
“What?” Bran grinned. “You don’t like ghosts and goblins?”
“Devils and monsters and ghouls? Are you kidding me? When I was little, some of the costumes people wore freaked me out. Though I did like trick-or-treating, getting all that free candy.”
Bran led her into the bar, which was also decorated in orange and black. They sat down in front of a window looking over the pool toward the mountains. A candle flickered in a miniature pumpkin in the middle of the table. The room was about half full, many of the customers wearing costumes or masks.
A waitress dressed as a pirate wench in a low-cut white cotton blouse, black corset, and very short, red gathered skirt came by to take their orders. Long dark hair hung down her back, and her bosom nearly spilled over the top of her blouse.
The waitress gave Bran a thorough glance and smiled. “Happy Halloween. What can I get you?”
Jessie had a hunch the woman was offering more than a drink, but Bran didn’t seem to notice.
“Cosmo for the lady,” he said. “Club soda with a lime for me.”
Jessie’s gaze shot to his face. “Seriously?”
He just smiled. “And bring us an order of those wings that guy over there is eating.” He glanced at Jessie. “Anything else you want?”
She just shook her head.
The waitress smiled at Bran. “I’ll be right back.” She sashayed away, hips swaying, but Bran’s gaze didn’t follow.
