Building Ties (Military Romantic Suspense) (SEAL Team Heartbreakers Book 4) (24 page)

“I interview people for a living, but Mary’s and my conversation wasn’t really an interview.” The similarities between Mary Stubben and Shelly Gooding clarified in her mind. Both were strong women, stronger than they appeared on the surface. One hoped to right a wrong while the other lived with the devastating consequences of one, but both faced their situation with courage.

“Mary shared a small portion of her life with me that day. We talked about our jobs. The personalities of the people we worked with, some of our challenges and what we hoped the future might hold.” Tess focused directly on Jonathan Frye.

“In the few minutes we spent together I learned she was a responsible person of moral strength and character, one who was interested in righting wrongs. Though her physical being was petite, her voice soft, I recognized a core of strength in her. We exchanged contact information so we could keep in touch.”

Frye’s jaw tightened.

Tess leaned forward onto the podium and focused on Mary’s family. Her eyes stung with sympathetic tears, but also tears of guilt and loss. “Sometimes I feel we’re like drops of rain in a barrel knocking into each other. But those momentary bumps in time always leave an impression, and we may not realize what kind of effect they’ll have until later. Mary touched you all, emotionally, intellectually, physically. Maybe it was a brief kiss, a nudge, a pat, or a kick.” Take that, Jonathan Frye.

“But she left a lasting emotional impression, otherwise none of us would be sitting here right now. That’s the only legacy any of us can hope to leave behind.” Her breathing suddenly constricted as the full weight of her guilt came to bear. She was eager to find her seat and feel Brett’s reassuring touch. “I would have liked the opportunity to know her better. I won’t forget the moments we shared. I won’t forget her. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Though Brett’s jaw pulsed with anger, he slid an arm around her when she scooted in beside him and clutched his hand in both of hers. After the minister’s brief prayer, the mourners began to file out. On the steps outside, Mary’s family waited to greet each person as they left. While she and Brett waited to exit the building, she saw Frye had been cornered by Mary’s sisters and had not yet broken away from them.

Tess urged Brett closer to them so she could listen to their conversation.

“Mary will be missed. She was a member of our Chanter Family. Those of us in the office who knew her best have been grieving her loss.”

“She liked her job,” Her sister said. “She always said since she didn’t have the experience to be useful in the creative process of design and building, she could at least keep everything running smoothly so the rest could move forward.”

Frye turned and his piercing gaze rested on Tess, then narrowed. “Mary was more imaginative than she took credit for. Just recently she offered a suggestion that was very helpful to one of our projects.”

Tess had never heard so much fork-tongued bullshit in her life. He was making complimentary noises without an ounce of sincerity behind them.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go. Chanter will be thinking of you, and we’ll be in touch soon.” He shook each woman’s hand and hurried away, around the corner of the church to the parking lot.

Mary’s two sisters approached Tess. “My name is Trudy Riders and this is my sister, Beth Cummings.” The family resemblance between Mary and the two women lay in the shape of their face and the color of their eyes. Unlike Mary’s chin-length bob, Trudy’s hair was long, pulled back into a tail, and Beth’s was cut short and feathered around her face.

“Mary talked about you. She read all your articles and was a fan. Meeting you must have made her day,” Trudy said.

Mary had been too frightened to enjoy their encounter, but, unable to think of a reply, Tess merely smiled.

“We appreciate your sharing that small part of her last day,” Beth said, her voice stifled by tears. She leaned in to hug Tess. Then the two left to join the rest of the mourners for the ride to the cemetery.

Brett guided Tess down the sidewalk to the parking lot.

Detective Buckler brushed by them on his way to the car, his expression a mirror of Brett’s. “Meet me at the Starbucks on Linda Vista. We need to talk.”

*

With the pressure
of his hand against her back, Brett hurried Tess to the car. Though rage threatened to erode his control, he managed to keep his tone to a hoarse whisper…just barely. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Tess?”

“I’m poking the bear. Frye was so fucking smug. Couldn’t even stay off the phone long enough to pay attention to the service. Then gave that canned speech. And everything he said to her sisters. How can he be so unemotional about someone he saw every workday for five years? How can he face her family?”

“You’re allowing your emotions to cloud your judgment, Tess. You need to be calm and smart, not emotional and rash. You’re allowing your sense of responsibility and your anger over last night to get in the way of your objectivity.”

Was she objective about any story? Just because she had good instincts didn’t mean everything she believed had happened was the truth.

Brett sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to force back his anger. “You wouldn’t go to press with the proof of one witness. You haven’t uncovered anyone who can corroborate the information she gave you.” Brett checked the car, even opened the trunk while Tess followed him.

“That’s why I have an interview with Jason Hamilton on Thursday and another one with Todd Warren, one of Mary’s coworkers, at five-thirty tomorrow. If Mary’s suspicions were true about the blackmail, I’m one step closer to proving she was right.”

“Jason Hamilton isn’t going to own up to that, Tess.”

“If I can get him to react to my knowing about it, I’ll have my answer.”

Brett shook his head. “He won’t.”

“You didn’t think I could get Nicholas Brittain to cooperate with me either.”

“You’re covering his ass, Tess. Of course he’s going to jump on board when everyone else is trying to fry it.”

Tess stalked away and plopped into the car.

Brett slammed the trunk with more force than was necessary. She was following the course of the story through pure instinct, and her feelings were leading her into trouble. Why couldn’t she
see
that?

“I’m not covering Nicholas Brittain’s ass,” Tess said as soon as he got into the car. “The county building inspector I spoke with on the phone, who has no dog in the fight other than protecting the workers from unsafe building practices, said exactly what Brittain did. I told you that. There was no neglect or incompetence on the construction company’s part. They were right in removing the substandard concrete. It could have caused major issues with the building later on if they hadn’t.”

“And they still don’t know what caused the cement forms to give way. Besides, you told me all that last night.” He whipped out into traffic and followed the stream of cars. They traveled several blocks in silence.

“The story I turned in this morning reported only the facts. How am I covering Nicholas Brittain’s ass by reporting the truth?”

She was relentless when she got something into her head. “All right. You reported the truth. But you’re also trying to spike Jonathan Frye’s guns by targeting the stories you release.”

“All I did was decide not to draw blood and smear a company to gain more readership,” Tess said, her voice settling into a stubborn quietness.

“What did you gain by pulling that stunt at the church?” Brett asked as he watched a car that wove through traffic behind them.

She was silent for a moment. “I was angry. At him. At myself. At everything that happened last night. If he’s behind it, he deserves to rot in jail.”

“And if he is responsible for Mary Stubben’s death, you’ve just made him think you know more than you do. You could have just painted a target on your back.”

“If he’s responsible for the break-in at my apartment, he already knows everything I know.” Instead of talking to the window beside her as she’d been doing, she turned to face him. “And if he had nothing to do with anything, then who blew up my car, destroyed my dress, and stole my computer?

She was on a roll. “And why do you think I haven’t written my article yet? I’m waiting until I have more information, or some kind of corroboration. I’m not going to put my reputation on the line for anything other than the truth.” Her phone rang and she bent to dig it out of her bag.

While she spoke on the phone Brett tracked the dark blue car trailing them. Had Buckler sent an unmarked vehicle to follow them? Naw, the car was too nice for that. The driver wasn’t trying to crowd them or make any aggressive moves.

Brett turned onto Morena Avenue and the car turned behind him. His mind worked through different defensive scenarios. If they were out to do harm, they’d had more than enough time to make their move.

“That was the warden’s secretary at the corrections facility. My request has been okayed for Thursday.”

Reluctant to voice a warning, he debated for a moment before saying, “Look in your rear view mirror at the dark blue car behind us. Does it look like the car you saw yesterday?”

Tess looked into the mirror then twisted in her seat to look behind them. “No, it’s too new a model and too shiny. The car I saw was an older one, still nice, but you could tell it had some mileage on it.”

“Okay.” He continued onto Linda Vista and swung into the strip mall parking lot in front of Starbucks where Buckler would meet them, giving the car behind them little warning.

The dark blue car cruised by without stopping.

Tess relaxed noticeably. “False alarm, I guess.”

Brett nodded, the taut muscles in his neck and shoulders relaxing. “I guess so.”

They exited the car and spotted Buckler and Hart sitting outside the shop beneath one of the umbrellas, nursing their coffee. Brett motioned toward them. “Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll get us some coffee.”

*

The detectives rose
to their feet as Tess joined them. She motioned them back down.

“I was surprised to see you and Brett at the funeral,” Buckler said.

“I feel responsible somehow for what happened to Mary. I felt compelled to pay my respects.”

“And metaphorically poke Frye in the eye?” he asked.

“Wish I could have blackened it,” Tess said doubling her fist. “He couldn’t stay off the phone long enough to pay his respects.”

“I saw him. But texting during a funeral isn’t a crime, just bad manners. Thus far we have nothing to tie him to Mary’s death. Only to someone in the city Planning Commission.”

“Have you figured out who leaked the bids to him?”

“We’re trying to keep the investigation as low-key as possible.”

“I understand, Detective. I won’t write anything until you give me the go-ahead.”

“Good.”

Brett came out onto the patio carrying two cups of coffee in a holder and a bag. He set the bag in the center of the table with a stack of napkins and popped first Tess’s coffee free of the holder, then his own. “There’s muffins in the bag if anyone’s hungry.”

Tess reached in, grabbed a muffin, then passed the bag on.

Detective Hart ran a hand over his face. “We’ve approached the head of the commission, and he’s given us authorization to search emails to see who might have done it.” He accepted the bag and dug out a muffin.

“I’m sorry you were dragged out until all hours last night,” Tess said. She broke the muffin into bite-sized pieces on a napkin.

“It’s part of the job.” He turned to Brett. “Some of the guys on the MAST team worked the other incident. You were smart not to enter the apartment, and to treat it as if it might be wired.”

Brett nodded. “Better safe than sorry.”

“It was stupid to take the laptop,” Tess said. “All they’ll get from it are stories I’ve written for earlier editions and the research I’ve compiled for the stories I’m working on now. And I have everything backed up on the server at work and to an online storage.”

“Assuming it was Frye and associates, they’ll have all the information Mary gave you.”

“Which is what I gave you, Detective. There’s only the bare facts.” And some she’d compiled herself since. Just her suspicions. Those wouldn’t matter much unless there was information floating out there to back them up. There was a part of her that hoped her speculations scared the shit out of Frye.