chapter 16
Black and formfitting, Audrey’s slim pencil skirt hugged her legs and ass while her bright yellow shirt yelled hello. She’d curled her hair to land sexy and wild on her shoulders and had taken extra care with her makeup, adding bright red lipstick. A completely different look than the muted gray pantsuit worn by the woman with Darian Hannah the other day.
Flat black boots shined but allowed her free movement if necessary during the press conference. She leaned against a wall over to the side, watching as the senator used his country accent to pacify the crowd.
A push woman from DCNT shoved her way to the front. “Senator, an anonymous tip came into the news station earlier today that one of your aides was with Darian Hannah prior to his death. Can you answer that?”
The senator beamed a genuine smile. “None of my aides were with Darian, so I think you should be careful of anonymous tips.”
The reporter elbowed a guy from the Times out of the way. “Our sources confirm the woman was Audrey Madison, your operation’s director.”
Audrey’s heart dropped to her toes. How did they get her name? Ernie gave her a sympathetic smile and shoved his glasses back up his nose.
The senator gestured her forward, and she stepped briskly up to the podium of microphones. Plastering on her most rueful smile, she shrugged a shoulder. “I’m deeply saddened by Darian’s death because he was a good man, and we worked well together. But I promise you, I wasn’t with him at the time of his death.”
The reporter pushed forward. “You were identified by the cabdriver who dropped Darian off at Milly’s Bar. He said you paid him for a disguise of a hat and glasses.”
Audrey shook her head again, keeping her smile in place. “That’s impossible, because I wasn’t there.”
The senator leaned toward the microphones. “As I understand it, the woman with Darian ran from three killers, who ultimately died in the next alley. Unfortunately, with Ms. Madison’s crippled leg, there’s no way she could run from anybody.”
Audrey bit back an angry expletive, fighting every urge in her body to keep her smile in place. Enough information about her to reporters. “I have five pins in my left leg, that’s true.”
“Why?” The reporter’s green eyes gleamed like a cat’s spotting a rushing mouse. “What happened to your leg?”
“Old hunting accident,” Audrey snapped out. Then she sighed. “My personal life is exactly that—personal. But since I know you’re going to dig until you find the information, I was injured in a car accident years ago that resulted in my leg breaking in several places. After many surgeries and way too much physical therapy, I can walk with barely a limp. What I can’t do is outrun killers or fight anybody with any strength.” The commander had created false medical records for her years ago, and she had no doubt they’d stand up to scrutiny.
“So who do you think killed the men who murdered Darian Hannah?” the reporter asked.
“I don’t know any more than you do, and I’m sure the police department will find the killers and bring them to justice.” Carefully turning on her heel, Audrey made her way back to the wall, this time allowing her limp to show.
Things were turning south, and fast. The press and now the world knew too much about her—it’d be time to flee soon. As soon as she discovered the location of the commander’s other facility, she was out of there. Maybe to somewhere warm this time—somewhere she could lounge on a beach and not worry about killers or war. Or Nate.
Even the thought of his name sent her body into overdrive.
The night before had been… monumental. Darn it.
The senator stepped up to the podium to speak about Darian and his work and how important the type of businesses he represented meant to the American people.
As one, a ripple went through the gathered reporters. Several read smartphones, and one tapped some sort of ear communicator. Bluetooth?
Audrey fought unease as all eyes turned toward her and then back to the senator.
The pushy woman from before put a hand on her overly curvy hip. “Senator, it appears that the cabdriver who’d driven Darian and a woman”—she gestured toward Audrey—“has been found dead this morning in his cab over on B Street. Care to comment?”
Audrey coughed, her head blanking.
The senator stilled. “Ah, well, no. I mean, our sympathies go out to the cabdriver’s family, but I don’t have any knowledge of his death. Neither does anybody on my staff.”
“Don’t you think it odd that the driver who positively identified your employee as the last person to see Darian Hannah alive is now dead by having his throat slit?” the woman persisted.
Audrey kept her calm fa?ade in place while her mind full-on sprinted. Had Nate killed the cabbie? He wouldn’t have done so, would he? To protect her? Maybe. She hoped not. It was one thing to kill in a fight, but to murder an innocent guy just doing his job? She wanted to pray Nate hadn’t turned that cold in the last five years.
What if he had? If he killed that easily, the man wouldn’t hesitate to kill the commander or Audrey’s mother. As a child, Audrey had feared her mother’s death because of all the guns and soldiers around, because then she’d truly be alone. As a kid—alone.
Even now, as an adult, that fear never quite abated. And if Audrey’s lover killed Isobel?
Her heart would shatter with guilt and regret.
How could she have such all-encompassing, confusing feelings for a man who ended life so easily? Sure, he’d been trained from birth to fight and kill, but he’d had five years to find another way.
What if there wasn’t another way for Nate?
The senator concluded the press conference and followed her through the building and into their offices.
Where two uniformed police officers waited to take her downtown for questioning.
* * *
Nate sat on the couch in his remote cabin, his head pounding as he concentrated on the television. His heart actually kicked against his ribs when Audrey stood in front of the cameras lying her ass off. She looked sexier than sin.
Of course, she’d donned the outfit to contrast with what everyone thought the woman with the dead Darian had been wearing, but something bright gleamed in her eyes. A look Nate had brought to her last night.
What had happened last night? He’d meant to reassure them both, to calm them, and instead he’d planted himself so deeply inside her he’d never be free. Ever.
Flipping open his laptop, he dialed up his brothers.
Matt and Shane instantly filled the screen. “What in the world?” Shane asked.
Matt rolled his eyes. “We’re making plans to head your way.”
“Not yet.” Nate hit a button to widen his lens so he didn’t see every pissed-off pore in his brother’s face. “Your huge heads take up a lot of room.”
Shane flipped him off. “Get ready, Sally, because we’re coming to dinner.”
Nate shook his head. “We may need you there and able to move to the commander’s alternate location on a dime. If I find the place, we might not have a lot of time, and you know it.” The idea of saving Jory was the only leverage Nate had, and he was more than ready to use it. “Trust me. The second I need you, I’ll call.” Never going to happen.
Shane glanced at Matt. “I’ll go to DC, and you wait here for instructions on Jory.”
“No.” Matt kept his level gaze on Nate’s through the secured computers. “I’m going to DC.”
Warmth spread through Nate. They didn’t get it. He needed to protect them. His entire life had been dedicated to them, and he couldn’t stop now. Without his brothers, he was a cold killing machine, and he needed them alive and finding peace. Jory was the one who mattered and had a hell of a lot more than Nate to offer the world. “I’m close to finding out the truth, Mattie. Trust me.” Yeah, he used the one lever that always worked with Matt. Trust.
Shane turned to the side and punched in a bunch of keys on another computer. The guy had the finesse of a drunken elephant, and it was lucky the keyboard didn’t break. “Damn it,” he muttered.
“What?” Nate asked.
“I hacked into the police file on the dead cabbie. He was found in his cab—with a picture of Audrey Madison next to him. Covered in blood.” Shane eyed Matt. “We’re in trouble.”
“We’re always in trouble,” Matt muttered, scrubbing his hands over the dark circles under his eyes. “Obviously somebody is trying to set Audrey up, but who and why?”
Nate’s mind calculated every possible scenario in a matter of seconds. “I have no clue.” The commander wouldn’t bring attention to her, and neither would the senator. Darian’s group wouldn’t know how, so who did that leave? “Describe the picture,” Nate said, anger and helplessness boiling through him.
Shane clicked a couple of buttons, and the picture came up on Nate’s screen. “This is her ID photo for the Senate building.” He rubbed his chin. “Easy enough for a reporter to get a hold of. Maybe the picture is from a reporter trying to ID Audrey.” That was the easiest and the best-ass explanation they could hope for.
“Maybe.” Matt’s frown deepened.
Nate peered closer. “When the hell is the last time you slept?” Haggard didn’t come close to describing his older brother.
Matt shrugged. “I won’t sleep until we deactivate the chips.”
Nate nodded. More than ever, his brothers had too much to lose. “Where are Josie and Laney, anyway?”
Shane rubbed his rough whiskers, appearing almost as exhausted as Matt. “Josie is working on the books for our security company, and Laney is making breakfast because she’s now convinced protein will save us all.” A genuine smile lifted his lips.
An odd and shameful jealousy rippled through Nate, and he shoved it down. He wanted his brothers happy, and that made him happy. Love and forever had never been in his future, no matter how badly he wanted it.
When he’d been old enough to pick a path in life, he’d chosen his role with his brothers. Without it and without them, he was the darkest side of what the commander had wanted to create. It was too late for a different path now.
He purposefully shoved down all memories of the previous night with Audrey into a dark hole. “Do we have the resources for a full-out attack if necessary?” he asked quietly.
Shane nodded. They’d created Sins Security after escaping the commander, which was a company that employed ex-soldiers to carry out services the U.S. government couldn’t or wouldn’t. Their employees had no clue who they worked for, but they were paid well. And the Dean brothers had invested their profits wisely. “We have money, weapons, and soldiers if we need more. We’re ready to go, Nate. Just say the word.”
“You got it.” Relief tickled down Nate’s spine, but he kept his expression bland. Once again, he’d convinced his brothers to hold tight where it was safe—and where they could keep their women safe. “The time is coming soon.” Unless he found Jory first, and then he’d go in and get his brother. Dead or alive.
Something dinged offscreen, and Shane turned toward the sound. “Interesting,” he said as he typed in more commands.
“What?” Nate asked.
A series of photographs came up on his screen. Autopsy pictures of Darian Hannah. The man had been built and in excellent shape—apparently having continued to work out after his college football days.
“Take a look at this one,” Shane said, swiping something.
Nate peered closer. The picture focused in on Darian’s upper right shoulder, where a wound festered. “What the f*ck?”
“Branding.” Shane fiddled with something, and the picture cleared. “I think it’s a sword with letters down the blade. PROTECT.”
What in the world? “That looks new.” Who would’ve branded Darian?
“The coroner’s report said it was fresh—very fresh. Probably occurred hours before death,” Shane said.
“For sure? It happened before and not after death?” Nate took a screen shot of the picture and e-mailed it to his smartphone.
“Yes. Definitely before death based on the swelling and burn marks.” Shane scowled. “What in the world is going on in DC?”
“Don’t know, but I will find out.” Nate glanced at his watch. “Audrey has a doctor’s appointment at the commander’s compound, and I’m going to follow her to survey the security in place for known arrivals.” While the press conference had been fairly safe because of the sheer number of reporters around, nobody would be recording her visit to the military facility. He hated the thought of allowing her to go into the commander’s den with every square inch of his being. But it had to be done.
“Fair enough. Just so you know, we’re making plans to head your way, like it or not.” Matt’s hard jaw set in a way that guaranteed a fight.
“Fair enough.” Nate would get the intel before his brothers could make it to DC. “I’ll call if I need help. Bye.” He shut the laptop, determination coursing through his veins. Time to make something happen.