Bran closed the laptop on his desk and shoved it into its black neoprene sleeve. “Ready to go?” he asked.
“What if they’re watching?”
Bran flicked a glance toward the rear entrance leading to the parking lot. “I hope they are. Better for everyone if they know you’re no longer here.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry. We’ll lose them long before we get anywhere near my condo. Let’s go.”
Jessie stepped back as Bran grabbed the handle of her carry-on and started for the back door, stopping several times to speak to one of his colleagues. They were all good-looking people, and amazingly fit; even the receptionist up front was a pretty brunette with a sunny disposition. Another woman walked toward her, a stunning blonde who looked to be in great physical condition.
“You don’t have to worry,” the blonde woman said. “Bran won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Jessie, this is Lissa Blayne,” Bran said. “Former police detective, currently a private investigator.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Jessie said. “I’m just hoping Brandon can help me clear my father’s name.”
Lissa smiled. “If anyone can, it’s Bran.”
Jessie didn’t mention the theft of the chemical weapons or that they would be trying to find them before something terrible happened. She figured the fewer people who knew, the better.
Bran nudged her forward and they started moving again, her carry-on rolling along in his wake. He paused at the back door and handed over the bag. “You take it from here. I need to keep my hands free.”
Remembering the gunfire that had erupted only a short time ago, she felt a rush of nerves. “All right.”
“Stay here till I check things out.”
She nodded. Bran pulled the door open enough to scope out the parking lot, then stepped outside. He wasn’t gone long before she heard the rumble of a car engine starting, pulling to a halt outside the door.
A moment later the door swung open again. “Let’s go.”
Pulling the carry-on behind her, Jessie followed Bran out to where a black Jeep Wrangler idled in the lot. He helped her into the passenger seat and closed the door, rounded the vehicle, and slid in behind the wheel. He pulled into the street more slowly than she would have expected.
“Did you see anyone?”
Bran shook his head. “No sign of them. They might pick us up later, but I’m thinking you were right. They were sending you a warning.”
“You mean like,this is what’s going to happen to you if you keep asking questions?”
“Yeah, that’s about it.” He started driving, constantly checking the rearview mirror, the side mirrors, his head swiveling right to left, left to right as he swept the area around them.
He turned the Jeep at the corner, pulled into the left lane, turned another corner, pulled into the right lane, sped up, slowed down, shot through traffic and drove through parking lots, turned into alleys, and gunned through yellow lights.
After twenty minutes of zigzagging between cars, she was sure anyone who might be trying to keep track of them was not going to succeed.
“You okay?” Bran asked as she clung to her seat.
“How long do we have to keep this up?”
He cranked the wheel, turning the Jeep into an underground parking garage, and pulled into a space marked Unit 1410, next to what appeared to be a brand-new Chevy Stingray, bright red with matte-black trim.
“Home sweet home,” Bran said, grinning. Jessie pulled her gaze away from that amazingly handsome face and ignored the little tug of awareness she felt when he smiled, which only made him more attractive. He turned off the engine and cracked open his door at the same time Jessie opened hers.
“Stay there,” he commanded, back in bodyguard mode, the smile gone from his face. He checked their surroundings, then came around to her side of the Jeep to help her out. He hauled her luggage out of the back, but didn’t offer to tow it up to his condo. Apparently, he didn’t believe in taking chances.
Jessie glanced around the parking garage, which was cleaner than most houses, not a trace of oil on the concrete floor. The neighborhood was extremely upscale, and from the looks of the mirrored glass building, perfectly landscaped flower beds, and manicured grassy open spaces, so were the condos.
She’d known the Garretts had money, but she hadn’t thought about it when she’d come to Dallas. She just needed help, and she believed her brother’s friend would agree.
