“Sweet, huh? I don’t know whether to be complimented or insulted.”
She reached up and cupped his cheek. “You took great care of me. Thanks.”
He glanced away, a little embarrassed. He’d been worried about her. Apparently she’d noticed. “You ready to get back to work?”
Jessie glanced wistfully over to where her laptop sat on an ornate rosewood desk. “I was hoping to get some writing done today—I still have to make a living, you know. But I’d rather talk to Mara Ramos, if that’s what you’re planning to do.”
“Not yet. Tabby’s going deeper, looking for something that might help. I’m heading down to The Max to talk to Hunt Brady. He’s been keeping an eye on her. He might be able to give us something.”
“Like a typical writer, I’ll take any excuse I can find not to face that blank computer screen.”
Bran chuckled. “Soon as we finish eating, I’ll call downstairs, have the valet bring up the rental car.”
She sighed dramatically. “It’s good to be king.”
Bran laughed as he caught her hand and led her toward the dining table.
The Maximum Security office in the Gaslamp District was housed on the ground floor of a two-story building in the 400 block of F Street. Yellow and white with a bay window in front and a big wooden arched front door, it shared the structure with a bar called the Tipsy Crow.
Jessie waited anxiously as Bran parked their rental car, a pearl gray Lincoln Navigator, in the parking garage across the street, then they went inside.
The ornate oak desks and green glass lamps scattered around the room felt similar to the Dallas office, though that one had more of a Western vibe. The slightly more ornate decor in San Diego perfectly suited the late-Victorian, nineteenth-century architecture of the historic neighborhood filled with shops and trendy restaurants.
There was a reception area up front, but being after 6:00 p.m., no one sat behind the desk. Three people were still working, a woman and two men. One of the men rose and started toward them across the open space, Hunter Brady, she assumed. Medium height and solid build, he had light brown hair and a jaw mostly hidden by a close-cropped beard.
He was attractive, Jessie thought, which seemed to be a requirement to work at The Max.
The men shook hands. “Good to see you, Bran.”
“You, too. It’s been a while.” Bran turned to Jessie. “Hunt’s former San Diego PD. Homicide detective. Hunt, this is Jessie Kegan. I told you about her.”
“Nice to meet you, Jessie.” His hand felt warm and strong. He had an air of confidence that eased some of her worry.
“Let’s go into the conference room where we can talk,” Hunt suggested. Located at the rear of the building, the room had a long oak table surrounded by eight chairs upholstered in dark green leather. Jessie sat down next to Bran, and Hunt noticed the bandage on the side of her head.
“Looks like you ran into some trouble.”
Absently she reached up and touched the wound, the area still sore. “Actually, I was lucky to have such a good pilot.”
Brand went on to explain about the attempts on her life, the arrest he’d made that had landed him in jail, and the plane crash.
Hunter’s mood darkened. “You need to find these guys.”
“You got that right.” Bran’s phone rang, and he pulled it out of his jeans pocket. “Hey, Tabby.”
Jessie sat up a little straighter, hoping for good news.
“Phone’s safe to use,” Bran said as the call ended. “Nothing on Ramos yet, but Tabby’s just getting started.” His gaze swung back to Hunter Brady. “What have you got?”
“I’ve been keeping a loose eye on the house the way you asked. The address in La Jolla is a rental, one-bedroom, one-bath condo. I’ve followed the woman a couple of times, but she just went shopping. Once she went to a matinee.”
“By herself?” Jessie asked.
“Yeah. Seems to be pretty much a loner. No visitors, doesn’t meet friends for coffee, nothing like that.”
“What about at night?” Bran asked.
“I’ve driven by a couple of times, never stayed more than an hour. I can set up surveillance if you want, have the place watched 24/7.”
