Fast Burn (Body Armor #4)(81)
He spilled everything in a rush. “Someone claiming to be Scott called and said he’d been aware of the investigation for a while, and apparently had been dodging detection, but now he feels he has to reach out to you. He wants you to meet him tonight.”
Already planning on how she’d make it happen, she demanded, “Where?”
“Promise me, first, or I won’t tell you anything else. I need your word that you’ll be careful.”
“Of course. ‘Careful’ is my middle name.”
“No,” he corrected with exaggerated patience. “‘Insanely reckless and impetuous’ is your middle name. Especially where Scott is concerned.”
Sahara squeezed the phone and frowned. “What is the message?”
Enoch groaned. “The person claiming to be Scott wants to meet with you privately. Just you and no one else. He said he doesn’t know these new bodyguards you’ve brought on board, and you’ve all but retired the established guards.”
Sahara went on defense without thinking about it. “The men I hired are better in every single way. It figures that Scott would second-guess me! Usually I concede to his judgment, but not this time.”
“If it turns out it really is Scott, you can tell him all about it. But my concern is that he wants you to come alone.”
Since she totally believed Scott was alive and arranging to reconnect with her, she waved off Enoch’s worry. “Where?”
Enoch sighed. “I don’t know exactly, but he said it’s where the two of you used to go to talk.”
She didn’t have to think about it at all; she knew exactly where he meant. “It’s definitely Scott!”
“You know where he means?”
“Yes, of course.” They’d often gone to the quiet spot near the river behind the privacy fence of her parents’ property.
“Tell Brand.”
“Are you nuts? Brand would flip out, and then he’d get all macho and protective and insist on going along, and since Scott doesn’t know or trust him—”
“He should trust him because you trust him.”
Unfortunately, her relationship with her big brother had never worked that way. She assumed he would always think of her as his little sister first, and a responsible, intelligent adult second. “I’m sure I can convince him, especially once he meets the guys, but until then—”
From behind her, Brand said, “Until then, you’re going nowhere without me.”
Sahara froze. Damn and blast, how had she forgotten to watch for Brand? She’d gotten so excited about seeing Scott again, about having his survival confirmed, that she’d been oblivious to everything else.
Through the phone, Enoch whispered, “Brand walked in?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll let you go.”
He disconnected before she could stop him.
And still Sahara didn’t move. She kept the phone to her ear, her thoughts rushing first one way, then another, as she tried to figure out how to explain.
Finally, deciding she’d just insist that she was the boss and this was her very personal business, she lowered the phone and turned to Brand with an artificial smile.
The smile vanished when she saw that he was on his own phone.
She heard him say “Leese? Can you get everyone together? Yeah, real important.” His assessing gaze met Sahara’s. “Your boss is planning to sneak out on her own to meet someone who may or may not be her brother.” He nodded, his smile grim, and said, “My thoughts exactly. Right. I’ll see you in an hour.”
*
ENOCH GAVE HER a look of sympathy as she entered his office with Brand and found Miles, Justice and Leese all waiting. They stared at her with mixed concern and resolve.
“Don’t you all have assignments?” she groused.
“Rearranged,” Enoch explained. “Leese has ninety minutes, Miles and Justice have two hours.”
“And Brand,” she remarked in a saccharine tone, “has all the time in the world to butt in.”
“That’s what I’m willing to take,” Brand said. “Your sarcasm.”
Realizing that he’d harked back to the discussion they should have had in the kitchen, she made a face.
“And I’m willing to give you all the leeway you need—as long as you don’t endanger yourself.”
Which meant no leeway at all.
“In turn,” he continued, “you could try a little trust.”
Seeing no hope for it, Sahara nodded. “You know I trust you.”
“Thank you.” To Enoch, Brand asked, “Got a conference room ready?”
“This way.” Enoch led the small troop down a hall to a private boardroom that featured a long table and ten chairs, a wall of windows overlooking the river, and a full coffeepot with cups, cream and sugar already set out.
Brand stuck close to Sahara, following her as she headed to the farthest end.
Disgruntled, she said low, “We were supposed to be talking about Becky.”
“Why? You agreed to try not to butt in, and I agreed to be understanding if you do.” Unlike her, Brand seemed to be taking everything in stride, and his inexhaustible patience made her want to scream.
He pulled out a rolling chair at the head of the table for her, then took the seat beside her as the others chose chairs nearby at either side.