Deadly Silence (Blood Brothers #1)(91)

Not once had he considered forever with a woman before Zara had started cooking him dinner and making him laugh. Now he couldn’t imagine life without her.

For nearly an hour he tried to sleep and then gave up, heading down to the offices. While he wasn’t surprised to find Heath poring over files about the serial killer case, he was a little taken aback to see Greg and Denver working with him. “Boys?” he asked.

Heath shrugged. “Kid hacked the system last night and had a bunch of questions, so what the hell? We apparently can’t keep him out.”

Greg smiled, looking twelve years old again.

Ryker sighed. “Fine.”

Heath nudged Greg in the arm. “Tell him your grand plan, kid.”

Pink tinged Greg’s cheeks. “I thought I should get a red wig, act like a chick, and draw this guy in.”

Ryker barked out a laugh. “Are we that desperate?”

Heath nodded, his jaw looking harder than rock. “Yeah, but first we need to find Special Agent Jackson.”

Ryker lost the humor. “Agreed,” he murmured.

“The airport has been cleared, and I’m taking the nine a.m. flight to Snowville,” Heath said, his duffel already packed behind him.

“I’ll go, too,” Ryker said.

“No. I’m going to Snowville, Denver and Greg are heading to Utah to investigate where Greg used to live, and you’re staying here to cover Zara and figure out your next step,” Heath said, his gaze direct.

Ryker blinked. “No.”

“Yes,” Denver countered.

“We’ve been talking about it,” Heath chimed in. “Even though Zara’s cleared in the murder, you guys have decisions to make, and we’re giving you that time. Once either of the other cases opens up, we’ll need you. Right now take care of your woman. If I had one, I would in a heartbeat.”

Ryker rocked back as the thought of how close he’d come to losing her hit him. Hard. Yet the idea of the three brothers going in different directions, and toward danger, didn’t sit well. “I appreciate you guys looking out for me.”

Heath rolled his eyes. “Just take the reprieve. It’s temporary.”

Wasn’t it always?





Chapter





33




Zara finished the spicy scrambled eggs cooked by a very quiet Denver Jones. She had no illusions that Jones was his real last name, just like Ryker’s wasn’t Jones. When she’d asked, they’d both looked at her blankly.

“Nobody ever told me,” Denver had said.

It was the most Zara had heard the quiet computer expert say without being prodded. She smiled at him and then fought a frown as she glanced at Greg. For the first time since she’d met Greg, he refused to eat. Instead, he kept looking at the storm, which had lightened slightly outside.

“We’re gonna drive if the airport closes again, right?” he asked the room at large.

“Yes,” Heath said, sitting on the sofa next to Ryker, both of them eating eggs.

Denver was in the kitchen, and Grams twittered at his side, offering tips on spices. He seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself, discussing food with her, so Zara let them be.

Zara studied Ryker. He ate slowly, his gaze on Greg, appearing every bit as protective as she knew him to be with her. She burrowed into her warm bathrobe over her long burgundy nightgown. It was a tad old-fashioned, but it was warm, and for some reason, it amused Ryker.

Ryker’s phone buzzed, and his head jerked back. He read the screen and gave some odd signal to his brothers.

Heath and Denver launched into motion, both jogging toward the door.

Ryker stood and dropped a kiss on Zara’s head before heading for the door too. “We have an alarm on a different case. Make sure he stays here until I come back,” he whispered, moving past her and quietly shutting the door.

Greg frowned. “I hate being left here.” He walked over to the window and looked down. “This storm has to end.”

“It will, sweetie.” Grams bustled around the kitchen, cleaning the counters.

Lights flashed outside, and the loud hum of a helicopter pierced the noise of the storm.

Greg frowned. “That’s weird.” He moved toward the north wall of windows.

Lights flashed at the west windows.

Zara turned her head. “Is that a helicopter? In this storm?”

Greg stilled. His head swung around. “Run!” He leaped for her just as the windows crashed in on both walls.

She screamed and ducked her head from flying glass, reaching for Greg to push behind her. But he moved faster than she could track, shoving her onto the couch and leaping over her to the other side.

What the heck? She bounced off the leather and scrambled to her feet, her head swimming. Greg fought hand-to-hand with a man in all black, kicking the guy right under the chin. A rope hung from the guy’s belt and led outside the window.

She swallowed and ran around the couch to help, trying to avoid the glass with her bare feet.

A second man, also in black, stood just inside the northern windows, his hand on a rope connected to his belt. Lights flashed again outside the windows. He held something in his hands, but she couldn’t tell what it was.

“Greg,” she screamed, running for him.

The guy fighting with Greg punched him hard in the face, and the kid windmilled back, quickly regained his equilibrium, and charged. He tackled the guy, and they crashed to the floor.