“He’s there, but two years ago, he got transferred out of maximum security for good behavior. He’s in a medium security facility in the same complex, which means he’s able to give orders again. Weaver says jump, the Brotherhood says how high.”
“Nobody’s figured it out?”
Graves took a swig of beer. “Big money in looking the other way. Bribes, threats, payoffs. Whatever works.”
“And you can’t go to the cops because talking’s a death sentence for sure.”
Graves nodded.
Jessie leaned toward him. “So the reason you’re giving us Weaver’s location is because you want us to intercede. Find a way to prove Weaver was involved in Petrov’s murder and maybe get him moved back to ADMAX maximum security where he’s locked up twenty-three hours a day and no longer able to communicate outside the walls of his cell.”
Digger looked at her as if she were the smartest person in the room. “That’s the idea.”
“If you want Weaver off your back,” Bran said, “tell us who paid him to order the hit on Colonel Kegan.”
Graves shook his head. “I don’t know anything about any colonel. You want to know who hired him, get the goods on Weaver. Maybe you can get him to tell you.”
Bran ignored a trickle of irritation. “If you want Weaver taken down, we’re going to need something to go on.”
Digger swallowed the entire second half of his beer in a few long swallows. Bran figured he was trying to work up his courage. Being a rat in the Brotherhood wasn’t the recipe for a long healthy life.
Digger set his empty bottle down on the table. “The way the hit on Petrov went down—a .45-caliber bullet dead center between the eyes—I’d look for a guy named Tank. Rides with the A-BOYZ out of Denver. That’s Tank’s signature, and it’s all I know.”
Graves set down his empty bottle, dug money out of his pocket for his drinks, and started to rise from the table.
Bran caught his arm as he walked past. “I don’t know how this is going to come down, but my advice is you get as far from Colorado as you can.”
Graves nodded. “I hear you, man.” Turning, he strode out the door without looking back.
Bran tossed down a few more bills, waited a couple of minutes, then he and Jessie followed. Unfortunately, two of the guys who’d been eyeing her earlier rose and followed them outside. The bastards had decided to try him on, find out how serious he was about protecting her.
His jaw went iron-hard. Leading her farther away, he handed her the keys to the Expedition. “Get in the car and lock the doors.”
Her glance went from him to the men lining up outside the front door, three of them now, big and ugly.Perfect. He needed to work off a little stress.
“No way,” Jessie said. “I’m not abandoning you.”
A muscle jumped in his cheek. “Go on, Jessie. Dammit, do what I tell you.”
“We go together or not at all.”
His jaw went tight. “I swear to Christ...”
She lifted her chin. She wasn’t budging. He wanted to paddle her sweet little ass or kiss her. He wasn’t completely sure which. He’d never had a woman willing to put herself out there for him the way Jessie did.
“Fine,” he said. “Have it your way.” Reaching inside his bomber jacket, he pulled his Glock, turned, and aimed it at the three approaching men. “The lady says she doesn’t want me to bruise my knuckles, so I guess I’ll just have to shoot you.”
Jessie gasped. The three men stopped dead in their tracks.
“He’s a former Special Forces soldier,” Jessie rushed to tell them. “You’d be smart to go back inside.”
They grumbled something between them. One of them started forward, but another pulled him back. “Don’t come around here again,” the third man warned as they sauntered back into the bar.
A relieved smile broke over Jessie’s face. “Now, see how easy that was?”
Bran just shook his head. He couldn’t hold back a grin. “You are really something, lady.”
She glanced back over her shoulder, saw more people drifting out of the bar. “I think we’d better go.”
