“Beau Reese helped find the terrorists.”
“That’s right. A billionaire named Jamal Nawabi is now in prison for financing the cell that planned that attack.”
He nodded. “My brother and I talked about it. Some of it I read in the papers.”
Taggart took a long swallow of his drink. “During the sweep of the capitol and in the days that followed, members of the cell were either arrested or killed. We believed we had everyone involved.”
“Believed,” Josh repeated. “Past tense? Are you saying there are more of those guys out there?”
“Unfortunately, we now know several members of the cell escaped. Recently, one of them was killed when he attacked a retired police officer in Austin. We believe another man, the leader of the group, organized the recent bombing at the Houston Airport.”
“I thought the men who set off the bombs were killed,” Tory said.
“They were, but we don’t think they planned the attack. We think the bombing was funded by their billionaire sponsor, Nawabi, who’s somehow still managing to pull the strings from behind bars.”
“Wait a minute. Are you saying someone in the cell killed Saldana and Whitmore?” Josh asked.
“We won’t be sure till we have him in custody. We’ve spread a wide net, but so far it hasn’t caught anything. It was the death of your friends that alerted us to the situation.”
“That being two marines dead in a little over two weeks,” Josh said. “Both shot in the head. The cops trying to figure out who wanted them dead and why.”
“That’s right. When the most compelling link they found was the men’s shared military service, they called in the FBI. Turns out Saldana and Whitmore were both in Afghanistan at the same time.”
Josh nodded. “Deployed at the same time, both fought against the Taliban.”
“And so did you.”
Silence fell. Josh flashed on a memory, the echo of explosions and the rattle of heavy gunfire. He had relived it in his nightmares more than once.
Tory’s worried gaze locked with his. She was no fool. She understood exactly where this was going.
“My team was one of several that were there,” Josh said. “A lot of marines fought in Afghanistan.”
“You think Josh is also in danger?” Tory asked.
“Unofficially, yes. That’s the reason I’m here. Officially, we’re still investigating. But if there’s a member of a terrorist cell still at large in Texas and he’s already killed two other men, Josh could very well be a target.”
Josh softly cursed. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have enough trouble already. He was trying to protect Tory from Bridger. Now he had a new threat to worry about. Even if she wasn’t the target, there was always a chance of getting caught in the crossfire.
“What about the other marines who fought over there?” Josh asked.
“We’re contacting any soldier who fought there during the same time period Saldana and Whitmore were there. Anyone currently out of the service and back in Texas. We don’t know why the shooter specifically targeted your friends, but we’re working on it.”
They talked a while longer, exploring other possibilities. Taggart asked if there was any chance Saldana and Whitmore could have had a mutual enemy, someone in the marines.
“I don’t think so,” Josh said. “Both of them were well liked, in and out of the military.”
Taggart downed the last of his lemonade. “If you think of anything, I’d appreciate a call.”
Taggart rose from his chair and handed Josh a business card. “Keep your eyes open, Josh. You’ve got the training and the experience. Word in town is you have two other marines working on the ranch who could be of help. Be watchful. With any luck, we’ll figure this out and have the guy in custody before much longer.”
“I appreciate your coming, Agent Taggart,” Josh said, also rising.
“Unless we’re somewhere official, it’s just Quinn.”
Josh extended a hand. “Thanks.”
He walked Taggart out on the porch. As soon as the SUV disappeared down the road, Tory came out on the porch and Cole and Noah walked out of the barn.
“Looked like a cop,” Noah said.
“FBI Agent Quinn Taggart,” Josh said. “He’s a friend of Linc’s.”
He set a hand on Tory’s waist, keeping her close even as he scanned their surroundings for anything out of place: colors, movement, shapes, sizes. Watching for trouble still came as naturally to him as breathing. Now he was glad.
“Was Taggart here about the murders?” Cole asked.
He nodded. “Looks like Pete and Coy were killed by the same guy. Could be he’s a terrorist.”
“Whoa. Say that again.” Noah wiped the sweat off his forehead with an elbow.
“Remember the airport bombing?” Josh said. “FBI thinks the guy who planned it got away. There’s a chance he’s responsible for killing Pete and Coy. Might have something to do with us fighting the Taliban in Afghanistan.”
“Us?” Cole stepped forward. “I don’t think I like the sound of that.”
“Not if two parts of that us are dead,” Noah added.
“They’re still investigating,” Josh said. “Could be something else altogether, but it’d be a good idea if all of us kept an eye out. Taggart thinks it shouldn’t be long before they’ll have the guy in custody.”
Cole’s jaw hardened. “We’re already on the lookout for Bridger. What’s one more asswipe?”
On that note, the men walked back into the barn. The sound of hammers and the buzz of a saw replaced the unpleasant conversation.
“So I guess we don’t get to go for our ride,” Tory said glumly.
“Darlin’, I’d really like to take you, but it’s probably not a good idea. Maybe the FBI will get lucky and catch this guy right away.”
“Sure, then all we’ll have to worry about is Damon.” She sighed. “When do our lives get back to normal?”
Since it didn’t look like it was going to happen anytime soon, Josh made no reply.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“I’m not staying in the house,” Tory said. “I have things I need to do. I’m not going to hide out for God knows how long until they catch the killer—if they ever do.”
She propped a hand on her hip. “Who’s to say he won’t just disappear somewhere in the country or head back to Afghanistan or whatever hellhole he came from?”
The corner of Josh’s mouth kicked up. “He won’t be able to get through the airports.”
“Yeah? Well, he got in somehow. Which means he knows how to get back out. Are you going to stay in the house? Because if you recall, you could be a target—not me.”
His blue eyes pinned her, but they held a trace of humor. “I’m supposed to be your boss, remember?”
“I’m supposed to be your cook, remember? That means I need fresh vegetables for supper. That is the reason I’m planting a garden.”
She started to stomp away, stopped, and turned back. “And dammit, be careful. If something happened to you—” A sharp pang cut off her words and her eyes burned. Turning, she hurried away.
Was this ever going to end? Not only did they have Damon to worry about, now there could be a terrorist in the mix.
Josh caught up with her at the tool shed. She’d picked out a spot for the garden behind the main house that was flat and accessible to water. She set out a rake, shovel, and hoe, but by the time she picked up the trowel, her eyes were brimming with tears.
She felt Josh’s big hands on her shoulders, turning her around. He took the trowel from her hand, set it down with the other tools, and pulled her into his arms.
“Hey. Everything’s going to be okay.”
She slid her arms around his waist and pressed her face into his chest. “Two of your friends are dead. I’m afraid for you. I can’t stand to think of you getting killed.”
Josh kissed the top of her head. “I’m not going to get killed, all right? I was a soldier. A good one. I know how to take care of myself. I just need to be sure you’re not in danger.”
When she looked up at him, Josh lowered his head and very softly kissed her. He eased back and touched her cheek. “I’ll be watching for this guy every minute, okay?”