Authors: Christy Reece
Justin held up his hand. “We’ve got the best researchers in the world. We can take care of that. My concern is this person’s end game.”
Brennan nodded. “If he’s capable of murder, he’s capable of anything.”
“He?” Riley asked.
Brennan shrugged. “Just a generic term—could be either gender.”
Justin didn’t agree. “I don’t see a woman for this. Dr. Curtis was strangled. Damn hard to kill a person that way…takes a tremendous amount of strength.” He didn’t add that he knew this from personal experience.
“There are some women who are just as strong as a man,” Riley said. “Don’t discount a female just because you think we’re too weak…or too sweet.”
This wasn’t the time, but he was damn well going to figure out what his partner’s issues were when it came to women. Within seconds of meeting Kacie’s mother, Riley had pinned her as the culprit. Admittedly, the woman was a piece of work, but it just didn’t play that she would do this. Kacie was her meal ticket, and while he could see Sonia anonymously blackmailing her daughter for some big bucks, he didn’t see her involved in murder. And destroying Kacie would gain the woman nothing. Just made no sense.
“We’ll agree to disagree about this, Ingram. Right now, we’ve got more than enough suspects.”
“Like who?”
All eyes turned to Kacie, who stood at the door. She knew she probably looked like three-day-old roadkill but couldn’t bring herself to care. They were here to discuss her case. They were talking about her life. She deserved to be in on this conversation.
Brennan stood and went to her. Her indignation at him for not including her in their discussion fizzled and disappeared. His eyes, bloodshot from lack of sleep, blazed with a need to protect and comfort. Being angry would be selfish and counterproductive. If he hadn’t been here when she found that photo… She really had no clue what she would have done without him.
“Sorry to sneak up like that. I woke up, and you weren’t there.”
The instant she said the words, she regretted them. Both Justin’s and Riley’s eyes widened at the knowledge that she and Brennan had been sleeping in the same bed. She thought about explaining that Brennan had offered comfort and safety—not sex. Then she decided against explaining anything. It really wasn’t anyone’s business.
Brennan stood beside her and held out an arm. The way he did it gave her a choice of either taking his hand or going into his arms. For Kacie, there was no choice to be made.
Strong arms wrapped her in warmth and comfort, and Kacie gave little thought to how it looked to the two LCR operatives on the sofa. She pressed her face against Brennan’s chest, drawing strength.
Finally, she lifted her head, straightened her shoulders. “Okay. Where do we go from here?”
Chapter Twenty-one
Brennan stood under the hot pulsing beat of the shower, hoping it’d give him a few more hours of upright time before he crashed. He had a mountain of things to do today, and sleeping needed to be last on the list.
Kacie was doing some work in her office. With the hollow look in her eyes, though, he wondered just how much she could get accomplished. Still, anything that could get her mind off the shit that was happening for even a few moments was good.
Yesterday had passed in relative quiet. After the night she’d had, Kacie had held up amazingly well and had even managed to get in a couple of naps during the day. Surprising since he’d had a security company there for hours installing a security system and new locks for her doors. With this sophisticated system, even the most experienced intruders would be deterred. And with only he and Kacie having a key to the apartment, she was as safe as he could make her.
Her personal assistant, Tara Greenfield, had stopped by early this morning, and Brennan had taken a few minutes to talk to her. Questioning her without revealing what was going on gave him the leeway to talk to her in a friendly get-to-know-you manner, as opposed to grilling her like she was a suspect.
Tara was young, attractive, with a lively intelligence in her warm brown eyes. Didn’t mean she wasn’t guilty. Normal-looking people did incredibly abnormal deeds every damn day.
She seemed open to all his questions and even teased him that her grandfather had never forgiven Brennan for leaving the Jets. But when Brennan had asked about why she’d left college her senior year and moved back home, she’d given an evasive answer that she’d been homesick. He wasn’t buying it, but without outright accusing her of lying—which he might well do at some point—he couldn’t proceed beyond an understanding nod.
Kacie had insisted on being in the room with them, and while he had no problem with that, as she was Tara’s employer, he had warned her to stay quiet. She’d given him a fiery look, and he’d been so glad to see the flash of temper, it was all he could do not to kiss her soundly. Thankfully, Tara had shown up before he’d gotten too stupid.
As steam loosened the tight muscles in his neck and back, he thought about Justin’s words as he and Riley were leaving the other night. His friend knew him better than anyone. He’d seen the way Brennan was treating Kacie and was concerned. And because they were friends, he’d give Justin latitude he wouldn’t give anyone else. However, when the man had lambasted him for getting too close to a client, it’d taken every ounce of strength not to knock him on his ass.
Getting too close to a client? Shit, yeah, he was close. But that didn’t mean he had feelings for Kacie beyond his job. A young woman who’d done nothing wrong other than to try to live her life and overcome a horrendous event was being tortured by some asshole for unknown reasons. He was pissed and wanted the creep’s ass in a sling. Anyone would.
It was nothing more than that.
A knock on the door barely registered before he heard Kacie calling his name. Whirling around, he was stunned to find her in the middle of the bathroom. Modesty had never been a big concern for him. Hell, he’d been in too many locker rooms with a bunch of sweaty jocks to even think twice about baring it all. Not to mention the stupid-assed underwear ad Vanessa had talked him into doing when he’d been with the Jets.
But there was another reason modesty had no issue here. Kacie had come searching for him. If it was important enough to barge in while he was showering, something major had happened.
“What’s wrong?”
“I got another message.”
“From the same email address?”
“No, this was sent to my Twitter account. Fans or whoever can send me direct messages or tweet me. Most of them are answered by Molly, occasionally by Tara…a few by me.
“What did it say?”
“‘Hey, KC. Did you like my gift?’ With a hashtag about getting what I deserve.”
“Okay, let me dry off and let’s take a look.”
As if she’d just become aware that’d she barged into the bathroom at an inopportune time, her eyes moved from his face and roamed over his body.
Biology was a helluva thing. A gorgeous woman was standing before him, the appreciation on her face a sight no man could ignore or resist. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about his body’s physical response to the heated interest in her lovely eyes.
A delightful tinge of color rose in her cheeks, and she swallowed hard. “Uh…sorry about barging in…I, um…thought you’d want to know.”
Brennan swallowed a painful laugh, instinctively knowing his amusement would irreparably harm her confidence. If he hadn’t been painfully hard before, he sure as hell was now, because instead of leaving in embarrassment, she continued to stand there and stare. Torn between the need to laugh out loud and the even greater need to pull her close and answer that heat in her eyes with his own, he growled, “Is there something else?”
Going an even deeper shade of red, she took one last lingering all-over-body glance and quickly shook her head. “I’ll…just go.”
The instant she closed the door, Brennan took a second to knock his forehead against the damp tile of the shower, hoping it would pound some sense into him. As pissed as he’d been by Justin’s warning, Brennan knew his friend was right. Getting involved with a client was a dangerous thing to do. And Kacie wasn’t just any client. She had a boatload of hang-ups and fears that he felt ill-equipped to handle.
Now if he could just convince his heart, mind…oh hell, his entire body.
Kacie raced back to her office as if her feet were on fire. But hot feet weren’t her concern, it was other places. Secret places she had tried to pretend no longer existed were coming back to life.
She was around nearly naked men several times a week, so often that she rarely paid attention anymore. Occasionally, she’d appreciate a well-built body or impressive eight-pack abs, but she felt no physical impact. After what happened to her, she had assumed that part of her was dead.
“So let’s have a look.”
She’d been so deep in her thinking about Brennan and her stunning reaction to his body, she hadn’t heard him behind her. Telling her nerves to settle was easier said than done. Not only did she have some lunatic wanting to destroy her, her frozen libido was melting like an igloo in the desert.
Unable to say anything remotely coherent, she twisted her laptop around so he could read the message.
Hey, KC! Did you like my gift? #Finallygoingtogetwhatyoudeserve
“Interesting hashtag, huh?”
She tried to sound calm and unaffected. She failed miserably. Questions whirled around in her head, all clamoring for answers that she could not fathom. Had this person actually killed Dr. Curtis? Where did he get the photograph? What did he want to do other than torment her? Ruin her? Extort money? Kill her?
“I didn’t mention this to you before… Noah may have already told you. Harrington recorded everything. What he did to me, what others did to me.”
“Yes, McCall told me.”
She turned to face him, unwilling for him to think she was a coward. “They told me all the recordings were destroyed. They promised me.”
“Who promised you?”
“Skylar. Noah. They all promised.”
“Then they told the truth. Do you remember anyone there taking still shots?”
An unexpected sob broke through her calm façade. She hadn’t even realized she was this close to breaking down, and now here she was about to become a sobbing mess.
Brennan reached out for her, but Kacie backed away from him. If he held her, she’d totally lose it.
“That’s the thing…a blessing, they said. I remember almost nothing. They kept me so drugged I could barely function. Half-starved…drugged. I was delirious.” She shook her head. “That vile picture. I remember nothing about it.”
“Then that is a blessing. I—”
At his hesitation, dread almost consumed her. Was he going to ask about the photograph? About what it revealed?
“Listen…I wasn’t going to tell you this because you’ve had to deal with so much, but you deserve to know. I found more photos than just that one.”
Instead of more alarm, she felt irrational relief. “How many more?” she said weakly.
“Five total. They’re all being checked for prints.”
“They were different…than the one I found?”
“Yes.”
She appreciated Brennan wanting to protect her, but appreciated even more his need to be honest with her.
“Thank you for telling me.”
His eyes gleamed with something like pride. “You’re handling it well.”
She turned away before he could see the truth. One, or a hundred. Did it really matter when a single photograph could destroy her? The one photo she’d seen was hideous, vile, and revealed something about her. The one thing she did remember. The one thing she had never been able to share, even with her therapist. Not even Skylar knew her secret shame.
As if he knew she was trying to hide something from him, Brennan came to stand in front of her.
“Something my mom used to say to me, when things were so dark, was, ‘This too shall pass.’ Which means it will get better.”
Her mouth twisted in a small smile. She appreciated his effort. “Did it help?”
He didn’t answer for a second and then huffed out a laughing breath. “No, not really. Guess it made her feel better to say it, though.”
“Okay…all right.” She straightened her spine. “It’s being dealt with. Lots of bright, talented people are on the case, trying to find this person. I’ve got the Montague press conference today. And then, tomorrow, we leave for Barbados.”
“About that…don’t guess there’s any way to delay that shoot, is there?”
“None. It got canceled last month because of a tropical storm. Weather’s supposed to be perfect. I have a contract…and unless I’m dead, I’m going.”
“Don’t talk like that,” he snapped.
“Sorry, poor choice of words.” She shook herself out of her unhelpful melancholy and focused on what she could control. “Before I forget, you do have a passport, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay…good. We’re set then. So, I’m going to get to work on hiding the dark circles under my eyes. And I’ll let you and the other professionals figure out who’s trying to destroy me.” She gave him her brightest, most practiced smile—projecting a cheeriness she in no way felt. “I think we both have our work cut out for us.”