Mind Game (GhostWalkers, #2)(109)

“Trust me, he would never say a word, accidentally or not,” Max affirmed.

“No, but his brothers would have access to both the Charter home and her office. She would allow them to come see her at work, even meet her to have lunch, that kind of thing. The same with Martin. Why would they ever suspect a family member of planting bugs? Techs go over the computers, but considering there’s so much security in the rest of the buildings, how often do you think the offices are swept? Even if a bug was found on the secretary’s phone or her computer was attacked, would anyone suspect a member of her family?” Kaden explained it carefully. “I think it would work over time, drop in, have lunch, pass the time, no one would give him a thought. He could collect a lot of information.”

“Which brother?” Max asked.

“My bet is on the troublemaker, Roman. He tried to follow in his big brother’s footsteps but wasn’t successful. He tried for the Green Beret and wasn’t accepted. He tried for the psychic experiment program and his troublemaking record blew it for him. Without Martin’s interference, he very well might have gotten a dishonorable discharge. He’s out of the service now and claims to be a student, and self-employed, but Lily’s investigator couldn’t figure out what he does.”

“A student where?” Dahlia asked.

“Rutgers,” Nicolas said in his quiet voice.

Dahlia spun around and stared at Nicolas. “It has to be him. How could it be such a coincidence?”

“What does Rutgers have to do with it?” Max asked. “I know that Jesse was poking around there.”

“Rutgers lost a few professors with grants to develop a new weapon for the defense department,” Dahlia explained.

“So there’s definitely a tie-in between Jesse’s investigation and where Roman Howard goes to college,” Kaden said.

Dahlia began to rotate the spheres again as the energy in the room began to build. The men were working at keeping their reactions very low-key, but they were human. “If it’s Roman, and he doesn’t work for the NCIS, how would he have been able to go out with the NCIS team to the safe house to take a potshot at me?”

“More likely, he followed them and waited on top of a building for them to point the way. Once he knew where you were, he took his shot and got the hell out of there,” Kaden said. “That’s what I would have done.”

She sent him a faint smile. “How very reassuring. I think all of you need some lessons in passive behavior.” She turned her wrist over as she levitated the spinning balls in her hand. “It’s getting late, gentlemen, and I’ve got work to do.”

She stood up, stretched, and pushed the small spheres into her pocket. She glanced down at the handful of photographs. The top picture seemed to be of a woman sitting on a wrought iron bench overlooking a river. Dahlia went very still. The woman had her back to the camera, but she looked familiar. And the river was all too familiar as well. She looked up at Nicolas, sorrow in her eyes.

Tekihila, my love, what is it? You look as if you could shatter at any moment.

Dahlia immediately straightened her shoulders. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I have to change.” Clutching the photographs, she hurried to the room she was using as her private refuge. She knew, without looking, that Nicolas was right behind her.

He waited until she closed the door before he took the photograph from her hand. “Who is it?”

“Look at the picture. Look at the knitting basket. That’s Bernadette. She’s sitting on the bench overlooking the river right there by the Café du Monde.” Her voice sounded hoarse.

“Roman was following her.”

“How?” She turned to look at him, her face so pale her skin looked translucent. “You tell me, how could he know about Bernadette?”

She was so agitated he could feel the heat in the room. Sparks touched the curtains, licked at the edges of the walls. Nicolas took the pictures from her hand and tossed them on the bed, enfolded her into his arms and locked her against his body. She was trembling. He bent low, his mouth against her ear. “We can do this together, Dahlia. You’re not alone, and whatever we find we can handle together.”

“Do you think she betrayed me, and they killed her after they used the information?” She was angry. So angry she wanted to fling fireballs in every direction. How could Bernadette do such a thing to her? To Milly? For what? Dahlia had all the money they needed. The women never wanted for anything. If they bought it, the trust fund paid for it, no questions asked.

“You aren’t thinking clearly,” Nicolas kept an eye on the flames lengthening, spreading up the walls. In another minute, he would be forced to take action. He wanted her to control herself before the fire got out of hand. “If they found you at the NCIS, they must have found Bernadette and Milly. You would have been impossible to stalk, your movements were too unpredictable, but the two older women would have had a routine. They had to follow them to find the sanitarium and ultimately, you.”

She heard the crackle of the flames and took a deep, calming breath. “I’m sorry, I know better than to get so upset. You’re right, of course. I should have thought of it.” She turned her face up to his. “If we’re going to stop the fire, you’d better kiss me.”

He caught her chin firmly and lowered his mouth to hers. “What a chore.” He brushed her lips gently, enticingly. Teasing her. Nibbling at her lower lip to distract her. To feel her shiver in his arms. Wanting the thrust of her breasts against his skin and melting softness of her body as she went pliant. It wasn’t about stopping a fire, it was about redirecting the fire. He wanted the flames in her. In him. Sharing their skin.