Текст книги "Secrets"

Автор книги: Cynthia Eden

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

Chapter Three

Jennifer wasn’t going back to sleep. Not then.

Not with fear and adrenaline pumping through her, not with her emotions all twisted and her body too tense.

Not with her mind focused so much on Brodie.

He didn’t understand what he meant to her. In the darkest moment of her life, he’d been there. A savior she hadn’t expected.

Jennifer slid from her bed. The shards of the broken lamp had been swept away and her footsteps made no sound as she headed toward the door.

She fully realized that she could be making a huge mistake, but Jennifer didn’t care. She wasn’t going to play it safe this time. Not with him.

She tiptoed into the hallway, turned toward the room next to her own and lifted her hand, poised to knock. After drawing in a deep breath and attempting to control the faint trembling of her fingers, Jennifer rapped lightly on his door.

A few seconds later, that door was yanked open. “Look, Davis, I’m not talking about—” Brodie broke off, his eyes widening as he focused on her. “Jennifer? What’s wrong?” Then his hands closed around her shoulders and he shifted her a bit to the side as he looked behind her. “Is my jerk of a brother bothering you again? I told Davis to back off.”

Jennifer shook her head. “I needed to see you.”

Surprise rippled over his face.

She didn’t want to have this conversation in the hallway. Not where Davis might pop up again. “Can we go in your room?”

He backed up. She advanced. He shut the door behind her and flipped the lock.

His brows shot up at the soft click. A lamp near his bedside had been turned on, and the light cast a soft glow over his bed and his tangled sheets. “Jennifer?”

“I can’t get to sleep.”

“Join the club,” he muttered, running a rough hand through his hair. “But, um, you don’t want to be in here with me right now.”

“I don’t?” This was exactly where she wanted to be.

His hand dropped. “You look really good in that shirt.”

She glanced down at herself. After he’d run Davis out of the guest bedroom, Brodie had brought her a shirt to sleep in—one of his US Navy shirts. It fell to her knees, seemed to swallow her.

It smelled liked him. Maybe that was why she hadn’t been able to get him out of her head.

Or maybe there were other reasons.

“Go back to your room, Jennifer.” His voice was low, hard.

She didn’t move. “You asked me before...why the connection was this way between us.” She’d wondered about it, too. Why they touched and truly seemed to ignite.

But maybe they shouldn’t question the connection. Maybe they should just enjoy it. Life was short and brutal, and moments of perfect pleasure were too rare.

“I want you,” she told him, the words a soft confession. “When we touch, when we kiss...” Her voice faded away. She didn’t even know how to explain her feelings.

He walked toward her. His hand lifted and cupped her chin.

And she realized that she didn’t have to explain. His eyes were bright with the same passion she felt.

Her fear began to fade away. He had a way of doing that. Of making the danger seem less—of making her feel so safe.

“I want you,” he said, giving her back the same words she’d just spoken to him.

Then his head lowered, and his mouth took hers.

The kiss was soft at first, slow and caressing. As if he was afraid of frightening her. But she wasn’t afraid of his desire or of her own.

Her hands curled around his shoulders. Her mouth pressed harder to his, and just like that—they ignited.

Need ripped through her body. Her heart thundered in her chest. She couldn’t get close enough to him. Her nails bit into his skin, even as her body pressed tightly to his.

A growl built in his throat. Then he was lifting her up, holding her easily in his arms. His mouth didn’t leave hers. He kept kissing her, and the desire inside Jennifer wound tighter and tighter.

He took a few steps, then lowered her onto the bed. The soft mattress dipped beneath her. Brodie eased back a bit. He stripped the shirt off her and tossed it across the room. She still wore her bra and panties, and his gaze slowly slid over her body. His eyes were bright with desire, and his stare lingered on her breasts. Her hips.

“You are so beautiful.”

He made her feel that way.

His fingers eased under her body, and he unhooked her bra. She was pretty sure he tossed it somewhere, too, but Jennifer wasn’t exactly paying attention. His mouth was on her breast. His tongue stroked her, and her body arched off the bed toward him as a dark desire surged through her.

His hand eased down her stomach. Touching, caressing. And he kept kissing her breasts. Stroking her with his mouth and tongue until Jennifer thought she’d go out of her mind.

“Brodie!” Right after she called out his name, Jennifer bit her lip, worried that she’d been too loud, worried Davis might hear them.

Brodie’s head lifted. “I like it when you say my name like that.” His hand flattened on her stomach. “Davis is on the other side of the ranch house. He can’t hear you. Every sound you make...it’s all for me.”

He began to kiss his way down her stomach, then he paused, his mouth hovering over the scar on her right side. The knife wound.

“I’ll find the SOB,” Brodie promised, and he pressed a kiss to that scar. “He won’t ever hurt you again.”

His tenderness caught her off guard. She’d expected the storm of passion, but that gentleness? Jennifer wasn’t sure how to handle that care. He made her feel uncertain, vulnerable.

Her hands slid down his chest. Down, down, until she found the button on his jeans. She popped open that button and eased down his zipper.

His hands closed around hers.

“I don’t want to wait,” Jennifer told him, her voice husky. “I need you. Now.”

There was too much darkness in her life. She needed the wild rush that Brodie could give to her.

He pulled away her panties. She shoved down his jeans. Brodie spent a few moments taking care of the protection for them; then he was back, settling between her thighs.

Her legs wrapped around him, and he thrust into her. Her breath caught then as her gaze locked with his. She wanted to freeze that one moment in time, to hold it close to her heart, to remember it always.

Passion and pleasure...to protect her from the fear.

But he was withdrawing, thrusting again, and the rhythm grew out of control as they raced toward release.

She’d thought the pleasure they’d shared before had been good.

She’d been wrong. This was beyond good. Beyond anything she’d felt before.

When the climax hit her, the waves seemed to consume her whole body. Brodie stiffened and whispered her name. Then he was kissing her. She could taste his pleasure and her own, and she never, ever wanted the moment to end.

Pleasure shouldn’t be fleeting. It should last longer than the pain.

Pain is always with me.

Aftershocks trembled through her. Her body quivered.

Then his head lifted. He smiled at her. Such a tender, sensual smile on the face of a man who was so dangerous.

His lips brushed over hers, and the pleasure began to build again.

* * *

JENNIFER PICKED UP her shirt from the floor. She looked back over her shoulder, but Brodie hadn’t stirred on the bed. Part of her—a very big part—wanted to stay with him. To still be in his arms when the sun rose.

But she was afraid that she might have given too much of herself to Brodie during those hot, wicked hours. Jennifer felt vulnerable, lost, and she needed time to get her guard in place again.

When she left the room, Jennifer tried to be as quiet as possible. In the hallway, the floorboards creaked beneath her feet, and she froze, but there was no sound from Brodie’s room. Breathing slowly, carefully, she made her way into the room she’d been given.

Jennifer shut the guest room door, then leaned back against the wooden frame.

A tear slipped down her cheek. Sometimes, it was so hard to remember that she couldn’t have the things other women possessed.

Like a lover who cherishes me.

Because none of her lovers had ever known who she really was. They’d just seen an image she presented. None of her friends knew who she was. No one knew the real woman hiding behind the mask.

Sometimes, Jennifer wondered if she even knew herself.

* * *

WHEN HE HEARD the creak of the floor, Brodie’s eyes opened.

She’d run from him.

Just when he thought that Jennifer was letting him get close. Two steps forward...fifty back.

He rolled over. The bed smelled of her. Sweet lavender. And he could still feel her against him. Silken skin.

Jennifer could run for now. It wasn’t like she’d get far, not while he had her in his house and under his protection.

* * *

SUNLIGHT TRICKLED THROUGH her window. The day had finally dawned. A soft knock sounded at Jennifer’s door. She’d been awake for a while, lying in that bed, staring up at the ceiling and wondering just how much she should reveal to Brodie. After last night, she knew things would be different between them. He’d expect answers. He’d deserve them.

When she heard the knock, Jennifer hurriedly pulled on her clothes and rushed to the door. She took a deep, fortifying breath and opened the door. My mask is back in place.

“Morning,” Brodie’s voice was low, and his stare seemed guarded.

Jennifer tried to offer him a tentative smile. “Good morning.” The words came out way too husky. She just couldn’t look at him without remembering what they’d done last night. She was sore in spots because of what they’d done.

He lifted some clothing toward her. “I, uh, I figured you’d want some fresh clothes.”

He had extra women’s clothes just lying around his place? She didn’t exactly grab for the offered goodies. What very well could have been jealousy began to burn within her. She’d thought what they had together was special, but maybe to him—

“They’re my sister’s,” Brodie explained. “Ava doesn’t come around much, so I don’t think she’ll mind you borrowing them. You two seem to be about the same size so...” He shrugged. “I just thought you’d like them. But if you don’t want the clothes—”

“I do!” She’d much rather wear fresh clothes than the bloody and torn things she had on. And since the offering he’d brought her didn’t belong to some random woman who’d spent the night at the ranch...Jennifer grabbed the clothing. “Thank you.”

His stare sharpened on her. He opened his mouth, but then stopped.

What do you want to say? Tell me, Brodie.

Jennifer waited. A thousand words were flying through her own mind right then, but she didn’t know where to begin.

He took a step back. “The bathroom’s down the hall. You can shower, then meet Davis and me for breakfast.”

Davis. Right.

Were they even going to talk about last night? Maybe they shouldn’t. Maybe it was for the best.

The morning after wasn’t exactly her best scene. Perhaps they would just pretend that the sensual hours hadn’t happened.

“It was better than before.”

Jennifer almost missed those rumbling words. Heat stained her cheeks. “Yes.” It had been.

“I’ll want more...of you.”

She wanted more of him. That was her problem. Jennifer was afraid she’d always want him, and she couldn’t blame that desire on an adrenaline rush or on a danger high or anything else like that—not this time.

She simply wanted him.

He was a weakness that could prove lethal for her.

“You came to me last night...”

She hadn’t been able to stay away.

“You will come to me again, and when you do, I’ll be waiting.”

She looked into his eyes, and saw the sensual promise there.

Definitely lethal.

She started to close the door, but his hand flew up, and his fingers curled around the side of the door frame, halting her movement.

“One more thing...”

“Brodie?” Something in his expression put her on guard.

“I want you like hell on fire. We need to both be clear about that. I look at you, and I need. I want.”

Her breath came faster.

“But I can also tell you’re keeping secrets.”

Secrets were her life.

His head cocked as he studied her. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Jennifer?”

She had, and she would again. There were some things that she would never be cleared to tell him. “Why would you ask me that?” He’d gone from making her heart race with desire to making her tremble in fear. She didn’t want him getting too close to the truth about her.

She feared if he found out the truth, Brodie would turn her away. Jennifer couldn’t let that happen because he was her last hope.

“I’m starting to realize there’s a lot more to you than just meets the eye.” He studied her with an assessing stare. “You need to tell me your secrets.”

She shook her head but then caught herself.

Brodie’s suspicious gaze said he’d caught the telling movement. “You will tell me, or I’ll discover them on my own.”

He let the door shut and she heard his footsteps march away.

* * *

“YOU’VE BEEN HOLDING out on me,” Davis accused him.

Brodie lifted his brows as he entered the kitchen. He wasn’t the one holding back. That’s Jennifer.

“Now that I’m not running on fumes, want to tell me the real story about the looker staying at our ranch? You know, the woman with a body to beg for and near-ninja skills?”

Brodie downed a cup of coffee. “Her name’s Jennifer Wesley, and you need to keep your damn eyes off her body.”

Davis narrowed the eyes in question. “Why is her name familiar? I swear I’ve heard it before.”

That was a fairly easy question to answer. “Because her father used to be an oil magnate, before his company went broke and he decided it was better to die at sea than to face his creditors.” He’d been digging into her past that morning. After she’d left him, sleep sure hadn’t come again, so he’d spent more time on his computer.

Davis exhaled on a long sigh. “The guy just left his daughter to face all that alone?”

“From all accounts, yes.”

Davis rubbed a hand over his jaw. “And where do you fit into the picture that is Ms. Wesley? Because I might’ve been tired, but I saw the way you looked at her last night.”

“Just how did I look at her?” And if he brought up that crap about wanting to devour Jennifer—

Well, Davis would be right.

“Like a lover. Like she was your lover.”

She was. Brodie glanced over his shoulder, toward the doorway. Jennifer wasn’t heading toward them, not yet. “She’s our client, that’s what we need to focus on now.”

“But before she was a client? I mean, just how did the lovely Ms. Wesley know about our security services?”

She knew because she’d tracked him down. His fingers tightened around his coffee mug. “I was on a rescue mission once... A wealthy American’s daughter had been taken hostage in the Middle East. My job was to get her out alive. I did.” He kept the details of that time as brief and emotionless as could be. Davis would understand exactly what he was saying and what he wasn’t.

“You saved her once, so she came to you for help again?”

Something like that. Brodie put down the coffee mug.

The floor creaked. He glanced back at the doorway once more and saw Jennifer standing there, her hair still wet, her face free of makeup. And she was so beautiful. He actually found himself taking a step toward her before he forced his body to be still.

“I think I’m bigger than your sister.” She glanced down at her body. The tight jeans fit her like a perfect glove.

“Looks good to me,” Davis muttered as he came to Brodie’s side.

Brodie elbowed the guy. He’d warned Davis about keeping his eyes off Jennifer’s body.

Jennifer nibbled on her lower lip. “Are you sure she won’t mind me using her clothes?”

It was Davis who replied. “Ava doesn’t come here.” He glanced around the room. “She can’t see any good memories here anymore. Only death.”

Sadness flashed across Jennifer’s face. “I’m sorry.”

So was he. While he’d been halfway across the world, his parents had been slaughtered, and he still didn’t know why. But after years of dead-end leads, they’d finally recovered some solid evidence recently. They’d found the guns that had been used to kill his parents. The guns had been hidden inside an abandoned cabin, an old cabin that bordered their ranch’s property.

“What’s the plan for today?” Jennifer glanced, rather nervously, toward the window. “As much as I’d like to keep hiding here, that’s not an option that will last forever.”

No, it wasn’t.

“If he doesn’t already know I’m here, he will soon. He followed me from New Orleans. He found my hotel room.” She swallowed. “He’ll find me here, too, and I don’t want that threat coming down on you and your family. You’ve already suffered enough.”

“I read the reports from the NOPD.”

Her eyelashes flickered a bit.

“You fought off the man who attacked you in that alley. According to the police, you said that you broke his nose and were able to escape from him.”

Her shoulders moved in a slight shrug. “I told them I thought I’d broken his nose. I mean, it sounded like those bones crunched.”

His brows rose. “And when the fire started, sweetheart, you failed to mention that you were in your house.” That detail had enraged him. He kept picturing flames rushing toward her delicate skin. “You climbed out a second-story window and scaled down the side of your house in order to escape.”

Davis whistled. “Nice.”

“No,” she said softly. “It was actually rather terrifying. The trellis I used to climb down was old and it was breaking beneath me. Crumbling with every move I made. I was afraid it wouldn’t last long enough for me to reach safety.”

His eyes closed. Too close.

“I don’t understand what’s happening here,” Jennifer said, anger roughening her words. “I mean, are you grilling me because I’ve managed to survive for so long? Was I supposed to let the guy kill me?”

No. His eyes opened. “The arson was deliberately set—judging by the report, a professional was at work.” A guy who’d known exactly how to set a fire for ultimate destruction capabilities. “And the attack in the alley? That was an isolated spot, a timed attack.” Something that was nagging at him... “The guy stabbed you in the side and managed not to even hit one major organ.”

“Lucky for me,” she murmured.

His gut told him something more sinister. “Maybe it was lucky because the man knew exactly what he was doing.”

Silence.

Maybe he wanted to hurt you, but not kill you. Not then. Had the guy been just playing with her in that alley?

Davis glanced between them. “You think some kind of hired killer has targeted her? Why would someone like that be after a society girl?”

She shuddered.

“Why indeed?” Brodie murmured. Because now that he’d learned more details about the attacks, he was sure thinking the stalker wasn’t some ex-lover who’d been scorned. Maybe Jennifer had been right to deny that claim. When he’d seen the arson reports, his suspicions had sharpened. This wasn’t some enraged maniac coming after her.

They were looking at a controlled, organized killer. But why was that killer after Jennifer?

“If you aren’t honest with me,” Brodie told her flatly, “then we’re going to have a problem.” He couldn’t work in the dark.

She backed up a step.

“What does the man after you know?” He couldn’t forget that photo and those two words that had been written across it.

“I have no idea.” Her voice was wooden.

He hated having to interrogate her. She’d come to him for help, so why was she holding back? Why was she making him push her? “The picture was taken at the Saint Louis Cathedral in New Orleans.” He’d recognized the spot because he’d handled a few cases in the Big Easy. “What were you doing when that picture was taken?”

“I was...just going for a walk.”

Lie.

His stare cut to Davis. His brother’s expression had tightened.

“We can’t help you—” Brodie forced the words between his teeth “—if we don’t know what we’re up against.”

Her gaze fell to the floor. “You didn’t know what you were up against in the Middle East. When you rushed in to save me, you had no clue how many men would be holding me. You came inside anyway.”

Because that had been the mission. Save her, at all costs. And he had thought that he’d known what he was facing. Too late, he’d learned their intel was wrong. “Jennifer—”

His phone started to ring. Brodie yanked it out of his back pocket, then frowned when he stared down at the screen. He didn’t recognize that number. He was tempted to ignore the call, but...

It could be another client—someone in a desperate situation who needed him.

And Jennifer was filling a plate with eggs, giving him her back.

Huffing out a breath, he answered the call. “McGuire.”

“She’s lying to you.” The voice was a low whisper. “Don’t believe the things that she says.”

“Who the hell is this?”

“Her father didn’t commit suicide and it was no boating accident...”

His attention was locked on Jennifer’s back.

“She killed him.”

Jennifer?

“She’s using you. Setting you up.”

Brodie unclenched his jaw to say, “I’m coming after you.” He knew he was talking to Jennifer’s stalker. “I’m going to find you, and I’m going to make sure you get locked in a cage.”

Jennifer whirled toward him, her eyes wide.

“Why don’t you ask sweet Jennifer what she knows about the murder of your parents? Why she knows her way around your ranch so well?”

“Look, you son of a—”

The line went dead.

“Brodie?” Jennifer put down her plate and crept toward him.

He immediately tried to do a redial on the jerk. But the phone rang and rang. Hell, no. So Brodie tried another option. He got his brother Mac on the line. Mackenzie “Mac” McGuire had connections that they could use. “Mac, listen—no, damn it, I don’t care if you’re half awake. I need you to run a trace on a telephone number.” He rattled off the number. “I have to know who this guy is, and I need to know now.”

He hung up the phone. The fury rushing through him was so great that his hands were shaking, and he balled them into fists. That fool had brought up his family. His family.

“That was him?” Jennifer asked, and her hand touched his shoulder. “He called you?”

Brodie gave a curt nod. “He’s trying to turn me against you.” Like he didn’t recognize the oldest trick in the book. He recognized it all right, and it infuriated him. “Giving me some bull about you killing your father—”

Her gaze cut away from his.

“And you knowing intel about my parents’ death.” Of course, she didn’t know anything. Why would a society girl from Louisiana know about the murder of two Texas ranchers?

Davis stalked toward them. “He said that crap to you?”

Brodie’s stare was on Jennifer. She’d paled. And she wasn’t meeting his stare.

“Jennifer...he was lying, wasn’t he?” Brodie demanded.

His phone rang then, but this time he recognized Mac’s number. He put the phone to his ear. “Tell me you found out who—”

“The phone belongs to a Jennifer Wesley,” Mac said. “You know who that is?”

He was staring right at her. “Yeah, I do.”

“Don’t ask about the strings I pulled—”

He tried never to ask.

“But I got a buddy to try and locate that phone. I figured it had to be working since you called and woke me up at helluva-too-early o’clock.”

Despite the tense situation, Brodie’s lips almost twitched.

“He triangulated the signal, and the caller is close.”

“How close?”

“Within ten miles of the ranch.”

He followed us.

“Do you need me?” Mac demanded. “Because I can be on my way in two minutes.”

“I got this.” He wasn’t about to let the stalker play his games, not on Brodie’s home turf. “Thanks.”

“Anytime...”

He pushed the phone back into his pocket. Jennifer was watching him with wide eyes. “When you escaped that fire, did you leave your phone behind?” Brodie asked.

She nodded.

“He’s got it.” He marched for the door. “And the guy is out there right now, playing with us.” He planned to find the man. The stalker would have taken to shelter, trying to stay hidden as he attempted to monitor what was happening at the ranch. “Stay here,” he threw over his shoulder as he hurried out. “I’m taking him down.”

He left the main ranch house and headed for the stables. If the stalker was watching the main road that led to the ranch, then Brodie sure didn’t want to advertise his presence as he hunted. And the best way to do that?

Sneak up on the guy. He went into the stables and started saddling his horse.

When he heard the tap of soft footsteps behind him, Brodie whirled around and found Jennifer standing just a few feet away.

“You’re going after him?” she asked.

He grabbed the reins for his horse. “Damn straight.”

She crossed to him. “He’s that close? You’re sure?”

Close enough to watch them, but the stalker hadn’t set off any of the alarms that protected the perimeter of the ranch. Not yet. “He won’t see me coming,” Brodie assured her. That was why he planned to take his horse. The guy would be looking for a car, not a rider on horseback. “Not until it’s too late.”

Her gaze slid over the row of stalls in the stables. “I’m coming with you.”

The hell she was. “Stay with Davis. He’ll keep you safe.”

She was already marching toward the nearest stall. “This man has been terrorizing me for months. I’m not just going to stand back while you go after him by yourself. I won’t risk you just to save myself.”

What—she was his backup? “Can you even ride a horse?” He blurted the question out before he had the sense to stop himself.

Her head jerked toward him. Her eyes became angry slits. “Betting I ride better than you, cowboy.” Her voice had turned arctic. He watched as she expertly saddled her horse and then leaped into the saddle.

Well, well. Wasn’t she full of surprises? “My mistake,” he muttered.

Her father didn’t commit suicide...and it was no boating accident...

She killed him.

“Brodie?”

He checked his weapon. If he had her close, then he could be sure Jennifer was safe at every moment. “Stay behind me the whole time, understand?”

She nodded.

“Then let’s go get him.”

* * *

AS THEY NEARED the northwest side of his property, Brodie slowed his horse. He wanted to go in softly as he approached his prey. Lifting his right hand, he signaled to Jennifer that they needed to be careful.

If Brodie were going to hide out and watch the ranch, if he were looking for a perfect vantage point that would provide him protection from prying eyes, he would pick the spot about twenty feet to the right. It was the spot that a trained hunter would choose, a man used to stalking prey.

That’s why I’m out here. I think that SOB is too much like me.

Not just your average perp, but a man who knew far too much about hunting human prey...and killing.

Brodie tied his horse to a tree and watched Jennifer do the same. As they crept toward the fence, he pulled out his phone. He knew this particular area always had good cell reception—and he’d been counting on that for his plan. There had been a reason why he left Davis behind—and that reason wasn’t just because his brother hated riding horses. “Cut the security system,” he told Davis when his brother answered. “Give me ten seconds.” Because he had to get past the fence and he didn’t want any alarms announcing his intentions.

“Start counting,” Brodie told him.

Ten, nine...

Brodie grabbed Jennifer’s hand, and they cleared the area. Then Brodie kept them in the trees as much as he could as they advanced. One step, two and—

He saw the edge of a long black car. The Mustang that had tried to run them over the night before.

Got you. A cold smile curled Brodie’s lips as he advanced. The stalker had cut across the property located immediately next to the ranch. His car was there, half-concealed in the shadow of the trees. Brodie approached the car cautiously. He searched the scene, but he didn’t see any sign of the person who’d made the call to him.

Jennifer’s steps were silent behind him.

He peered through the car’s window and saw a phone on the seat. A phone and a manila envelope. Brodie’s name was scrawled on that envelope.

You knew I’d come looking for you.

And what? The guy thought he’d just jerk open that door and retrieve the envelope? Brodie was no fool. That car could be wired. As soon as the door opened—boom.

“Where is he?” Jennifer’s body pressed to Brodie’s. Her whisper in his ear was a bare breath of sound. “I don’t like this.”

Neither did he. The guy had wanted them to come out there and find him. Hell, no wonder tracking the phone had been so easy.

“What’s in the car?” Jennifer asked, voice low. She tried to peer inside.

His gaze was on the trees to the right. Brodie thought he’d just glimpsed a light from those trees, as if metal had glinted when the sunlight hit it.

“Back away,” Brodie said softly to Jennifer.

“What?”

His instincts were screaming at him. He grabbed her and yanked her to the other side of the car just as gunshots rang out. The bullets missed them as they ran, but the shots peppered into the side of the Mustang.

Then he heard the roar of an engine. Brodie looked up just as a motorcycle burst through the trees. Lifting his own weapon, Brodie aimed for that vehicle. He fired off a shot, and he knew he’d found his target when he heard a hard grunt.

But the driver didn’t fall off his bike. He revved the engine and raced away even as he kept firing back at Brodie.

Dirt swirled in the motorcycle’s wake. Brodie ran after the bike, but he wasn’t about to catch up to the guy driving. “Damn it!”

“Brodie?” Jennifer’s voice was hesitant behind him.

He grabbed for his phone to call his brother. “Davis, the guy is heading north. He’s on a motorcycle, and he’s armed.”

“On my way,” Davis told him instantly. Brodie knew that Davis would try to intersect the guy, provided the man stayed on the road. Since he had a motorcycle at his disposal, there was no guarantee the stalker would stick to any of the main roads in the area. The slippery SOB might escape from them again.

He whirled around, looking for Jennifer, and he saw her reaching for the Mustang’s door. “Jennifer, don’t!”

But she already had the door open. She grabbed inside for the envelope, and he grabbed her. Brodie jerked her back, holding her tightly against him. “What are you doing? That thing could be wired to blow!” It still could blow. He hauled her with him, running back toward the trees and—

The Mustang exploded.

* * *

HE BRAKED THE motorcycle when he heard the explosion. Just had to go for the file, didn’t you?

His hand rose and pressed to his left shoulder. McGuire had hit him, and the bullet had driven right through his flesh. But he was used to the pain. After what Jennifer had done to him, a bullet wound was nothing.