ELEVEN
Bran’s mood fluctuated between concern for Jessie and what she had suffered, and fury that he was helpless to do anything about it.
Fucking Ray Cummings was in prison, exactly where he belonged. He was being punished—not enough as far as Bran was concerned—but punished nonetheless.
And now, knowing the extent of what she had been through put Jessie even further out of his reach. She didn’t need more heartache, and having sex with him was exactly where that would lead. She wasn’t a one-night hookup kind of girl, and he wasn’t a relationship kind of guy.
Jessie deserved a man who was gentle and patient, a guy who would help her deal with the trauma she had suffered. Bran was a rough-and-tumble lover. He demanded a lot from a woman, and the women he took to bed liked it exactly that way.
He sighed as he lay on the lumpy sofa in the living room staring up at the ceiling. If only he could get the look on Jessie’s face out of his head, the heat in her big green eyes when she’d told him she was thinking about having sex with him.
Sweet Jesus. He’d been so hard he ached with every heartbeat. Then she’d told him about herhang-ups.He wouldn’t have a clue how to deal with that. Though in some weird way, he felt an obligation to try to help her.
She was Danny’s sister, after all. Or at least that was his rationale for the erotic thoughts he couldn’t seem to banish no matter how hard he tried.
He had no idea what had possessed him to extend the invitation to join his family for the holidays, except that he owed it to Danny to look after his sister. Hell, in a way, she was already part of the family. He’d never brought a woman to any family gathering, and knowing his brothers would make more of it than it actually was, he was mildly relieved that she had declined.
He sighed into the darkness. He wished to God this mission was over. Wished he had the evidence they needed to prove Colonel Kegan’s innocence. Wished he knew where to find the missing weapons.
In the morning, they planned to talk to the CID special agent who had handled the investigation, see if he had come up with anything new since Jessie’s last trip to the base.
Then tomorrow night they were going to pay a surprise visit to Charles Frazier at his home in Alamo. Bran was looking forward to the conversation. He had a feeling Frazier knew a helluva lot more than he was saying. And if he did, he was going to tell them.
One way or another.
Bran rolled over on the lumpy mattress, trying not to listen for sounds of movement in the bedroom, where Jessie slept in a comfortable king-size bed. But the more he tried to banish lustful thoughts of her, the more he failed.
He kept seeing her in her tempting little orange-striped bikini, remembering the ties that held it in place. All he’d have to do was reach behind her and pull the strings and the top would be gone. Pull the bows on each side of the bottom and the fabric would disappear. Jessie would be his, a willing participant in his every erotic fantasy.
A soft groan escaped. It wasn’t going to happen. Too many obstacles between them. Instead, it was going to be another long night.
And another cold shower in the morning.
Their meeting with CID Special Agent Derek Tripp proved fruitless. Or at least it seemed that way to Jessie. Tripp, a man in his forties with blond hair shaved close on the sides and slightly longer on top, brought her up to speed on what they had uncovered since she had spoken to him last.
Unfortunately, after talking to the medical examiner, to Major Anson, General Holloway, and Robert De La Garza, it was mostly information she already knew.
“What about the offshore account?” Jessie asked. “There is no way my father opened a bank account in the Cayman Islands then made deposits into the account equaling a hundred thousand dollars. My mom handled all the finances when she was alive. After she died, my dad could barely balance his checking account.”
Seated behind his desk, Tripp worked the button on his ballpoint pen. “I agree finding the source of the money could be the key to unraveling all of this. It’s something I’m looking into. Unfortunately, with your father gone, my superiors want to put more resources toward finding the missing munitions. Since it’s a matter of national security, we’re working with several other agencies, including counterterrorism.”
“What about the FBI?” Bran asked.
“So far we haven’t asked for FBI assistance, but that could happen any day. If those weapons fell into the wrong hands, it would be disastrous.”
“But you won’t just let the investigation into my father’s innocence drop,” Jessie pressed.
Sympathy surfaced in the agent’s eyes. “I’ll do what I can, Ms. Kegan. That’s all I can promise.”
The meeting left Jessie as frustrated as before.
“Tripp is looking into your dad’s offshore account,” Bran said as they headed back to the Expedition. “Since it isn’t his top priority, I need to talk to Tabby, see if she can find out where the money came from. If anyone can figure it out, it’s Tab.”
“You think she can trace the money back to the source?”
“Maybe. Odds are, she can at least come up with a little more info, something that could point us in the right direction.”
“She sounds pretty amazing.”
