Rather than answer him, the man looked at Brynnon. “What the hell? Why are you bringing that shit back up?”
“A man approached me at the hospital yesterday. He pretended to be a reporter and started asking questions about it. Grant’s teammate used the hospital’s security feed and a face recognition program to figure out his real identity. His name is Charles Wright.”
Billy looked genuinely lost. “Should that name mean something to me?”
With a sad expression, Brynnon said, “His son was one of the soldiers who died on the bridge that day. He hired a private investigator,” she continued to explain. “Apparently, that man’s been working on it ever since.”
“Well, he’s not gonna find anything,” Billy assured her. “All the guy’s doing is wasting his money. That investigation was closed a long time ago.”
“Wright claims the P.I. found proof that your father’s company used par-standard materials when building the bridge, causing it to collapse under the convoy’s weight.”
Grant thought he saw a flutter of fear shining behind the man’s eyes, but it was gone before he could be certain.
“That’s ridiculous,” Billy protested. “We used the same materials on that bridge as all the other ones. The guy’s probably trying to get money or something. Trust me, sis. This Wright character’s just playing you.”
“It’s not a fucking game.”
His sharp tone had Brynnon’s eyes rising to his. Grant could tell she didn’t care for it, but right now, that didn’t matter. Her brother needed to know how serious the situation was.
“Excuse me?”
“This isn’t about money, Billy.” Brynnon turned her attention back to her brother. “Wright’s daughter has been following me.”
“What?” Billy frowned.
Grant explained. “The threat your father received was directed toward Brynnon. Not him. That’s why he didn’t hire security for you.”
Billy’s eyes widened. “H-how do you know?”
“She left a bunch of pictures in my mailbox, along with a threatening note,” Brynnon swallowed. “The pictures were of me.”
“She also came damn close to running her over.”
Her brother’s eyes shot to his. “You’re serious.” It wasn’t a question.
“This is as serious as it gets.”
“Thankfully, Grant was there. He pushed me out of the way just in time.”
Sweat began beading on Billy’s forehead. “Did you call the police? Have they arrested the crazy bitch?”
“We went to his house,” Brynnon told him. “I’m not going to go into it all now, but my gut’s telling me neither Charles nor his daughter really wanted to hurt me. I think Charles just wants to find out what happened to his son and the others, and Jessica wants him to finally be able to come to peace with it all.”
“I agree,” Grant backed her up. “Wright definitely has an agenda, but I didn’t get the vibe he or his daughter actually wanted to harm your sister.”
With his hands on his hips, Billy asked, “What about the P.I. Have you talked with him or seen any of this so-called evidence?”
“One of my guys put a call in to him. He’s waiting to hear back.”
“What’s his name?” Billy’s chest heaved. “I’ll go talk with him right now.”
“Hank Mitchell,” Brynnon tried defusing her brother’s rising anger. “But he lives in Arizona. Don’t worry, Billy. I know you and Dad would never do something like what Charles is saying. He’s just a grieving father. That’s all.”
Her brother stared down at her. “You’ll let me know as soon as you find something out?”
“Of course, we will,” Brynnon laid a hand on his arm.
Eyes almost identical to Brynnon’s met Grant’s again. Swallowing nervously, the other man asked, “In the meantime, you’ll keep protecting my sister?”
