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Authors: Susan Sleeman

High-Caliber Holiday (14 page)

BOOK: High-Caliber Holiday
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Cash arched an eyebrow and stared at Brady.

“What?” Brady asked.

“You've got it bad, man. Real bad.”

“You mean Morgan? It's purely professional,” he said, but his words rang false even to his own ears.

“Yeah, right.” Cash took a step closer. “Wasn't too long ago that you were warning me to think with my head and not my heart. You should consider your own warning before you do something stupid that could get you or Morgan killed.”

Brady appreciated Cash's concern, but Brady didn't need a warning. He knew what the stakes were here. Morgan's life was in the balance, and he'd take no chances.

He clapped Cash on the shoulder. “Thanks, man, but I got this.”

“See that you do. Keep your head on a swivel.” Brady smiled at the cop term meaning to continually check your surroundings. “After all,” Cash continued. “I'd hate to lose my favorite jokester.”

“I know, right?” Brady grinned. “'Cause you couldn't tell a joke to save your life.”

Cash socked Brady in the arm, and he feigned discomfort before taking off down the hallway. His smile fell the minute he rounded the corner and went into sniper mode. He may not have a rifle in his hands, but he did have a target to take down. Preston. If the guy made any wrong move, Brady would have an officer on scene to arrest him so fast Preston wouldn't know what hit him.

Brady stepped outside and went straight to the spot he'd scouted earlier. Finding a place to watch Preston was just like locating a sniper blind, except Brady wanted to be closer so he could easily tail Preston after he picked up the keys.

Brady took cover behind a half wall surrounding a large air conditioning unit and watched. Preston soon double-parked his shiny silver Lexus at the entrance and hopped out. He whistled as he strutted inside. Brady almost gave up his stance and charged after the man, but he settled for texting Cash and warning him to take care. Ten minutes later, ten long minutes, Brady saw Preston step out. He was smiling and swinging the keys around his index finger.

Brady didn't like the change in Preston's attitude. Didn't like it one bit. Brady also didn't like thinking about what Morgan had said or done to put the smile on Preston's face. Hands fisted, Brady headed to his truck and was soon rumbling along behind Preston's spotless ride. He hung well back as they eased through the city streets full of traffic. Preston made a few turns, pointing his car in the direction of Morgan's apartment.

Brady's gut churned and he inched closer to Preston so he wouldn't lose him. Preston pulled to the curb in front of a florist shop, and Brady's mouth dropped open.

Could he be buying roses? Was it really going to be this easy to catch the guy?

Brady parked down the block where he could keep an eye on Preston, who got out of his car, looked up and down the street, then strutted into the shop. Brady tried not to get excited. Preston was buying flowers, but it remained to be seen if they were red roses.

Brady fixed his gaze on the door. Waiting. Watching.

His phone chimed a text, and he jumped in his seat.

“Get a grip, man,” he warned himself and grabbed the phone.

Cash confirmed all was well at the hospital, and Brady's mind drifted back to the conversation with his buddy. Brady got that he was attracted to Morgan. Totally attracted, but had he fallen for her? For a woman who was wrong for him in every way?

If he had, he was in for a world of hurt. She would never see him as an equal to the men she'd been raised with. Even if she somehow did accept him, her father never would. No way. Brady had seen the guy in action. He was all about his image and pedigree. And how could Brady ever fit in her life, with her exclusive club membership and BMW? He couldn't—that was all there was to it.

Preston stepped out of the shop carrying a long white box. Had to be long-stemmed red roses. Or maybe black. The thought made Brady angry. This guy had at one time told Morgan he loved her and had given her a ring. Asked her to spend the rest of her life with him. Now this? Unbelievable. Morgan was going to be devastated.

Preston slid the box into the back of his car and set off. Brady hung back, hoping he was wrong and Preston had just happened to be buying flowers. Though Brady would be glad for Preston to be the stalker, it would hurt Morgan, and she didn't need additional pain.

Brady prayed for comfort for her should this be true. Maybe he should be praying for Preston to drive on by Morgan's apartment complex, instead.

Preston swung into a parking space down the block from Morgan's place and Brady reiterated the prayer for her comfort while he kept his eyes on Preston and grabbed his phone from the dash. He pressed speed dial for Rossi. Brady would love to personally charge after Preston and haul him in, but Brady had no jurisdiction here and he wouldn't risk Preston getting off on a technicality.

The moment Rossi answered, Brady explained the situation. “I need you or a unit at Morgan's apartment, stat.”

“I can have uniforms over there in few minutes, and I'll be right behind them,” Rossi replied.

“Make sure the officer doesn't run his lights or siren to spook Preston.” This wasn't the kind of call that would suggest lights and siren, but Brady wasn't taking any chances.

Rossi snorted. “Goes without saying. See that you're as cautious. This guy's got money, and he'll fight the arrest. I want it to be a righteous collar so don't proceed without me.”

Brady agreed to hang back and disconnected. Preston got out of his car, straightened his tie and suit coat, then bent into the backseat to retrieve the box. He looked around before proceeding to the apartment building, calmly walking as if on a Sunday stroll.

Brady waited, his imagination running wild, envisioning Preston going inside Morgan's building. Into her apartment. Standing over her with a camera while she was sleeping.

Preston stepped inside the door. Brady's gut clenched and a low growl sounded from his chest, surprising him at how much this was affecting him. It was all he could do to sit there and wait for Rossi or the patrol car to arrive.

“C'mon, c'mon, c'mon,” he grumbled as he looked down the street for the cruiser. Preston wasn't going to get away with this. They had to catch this creep in the act and stop him once and for all.

FIFTEEN

A
t the Portland Police Bureau's Central Precinct, Brady stared through the viewing window at Preston. Sitting behind a metal table, his posture was perfect. His clothes perfect. His chin jutted out in a smug expression. Brady would like to be sitting across from the guy, grilling him. Making him talk. Making him admit to his plan to harm Morgan. But Rossi nixed it because Brady had no jurisdiction here. He did let Brady watch through the one-way glass. That was something, anyway.

“I wasn't doing anything wrong.” Preston's chin lifted higher. “I was just making sure the apartment was clean for Morgan's homecoming and leaving flowers to freshen up the place for her.”

“Why red roses?” Rossi asked.

“Why not?”

“Ms. Thorsby told us you usually gave her white roses.”

His eyes flashed wide but he quickly masked his surprise. “Guess I got her confused with my current girlfriend. She likes the red ones.”

Brady felt certain Preston was lying and Brady would be sure to follow up with Natasha.

The door shot open. A regal-looking silver-haired man in a quality black suit stepped into the room and slapped a business card on the table. “My client is done answering your questions. Charge him or we're leaving.”

Rossi glanced at the card then came to his feet. “If you insist, I'll be glad to charge him with trespassing.”

“I didn't break in. I had keys.” Preston's face was a mask of anger.

“Ah, but see, Ms. Thorsby said she didn't give you permission to enter. You were supposed to deliver those keys to her parents. I'm sure she'll be happy to issue a signed statement or testify to that fact. So, keys or not, charges will be filed.”

The lawyer sneered. “Fine, bring charges, but you're the one who's going to look like a fool here.”

“Better a fool than a stalker.” Rossi looked down on Preston, holding the other man's attention for a long moment. “Or a killer.”

“A what?” Preston's voice rose.

“Ms. Thorsby has been poisoned for months.”

Preston's self-important facade disappeared for a moment. “I didn't poison her. I'm not a killer.”

“Guess we'll find out, won't we.” Rossi slid a piece of paper across the table to the attorney. “Our search warrant for Mr. Hunter's home and office. You'll find everything in order.” Rossi pivoted and stalked out of the room.

Brady met him in the hallway. “Please say I can come along to toss the smug jerk's place.”

“You know better than to ask. Hunter's lawyer is one of the best and if we hope to keep Hunter locked up, we have to do this by the book.”

Brady wanted to march into the interrogation room and shake the truth from Preston, but that would only give the guy a reason to press charges against Brady and claim police brutality, getting his case tossed out. The very last thing Brady wanted when they had no other leads on finding the creep who was putting Morgan's life in danger.

* * *

Morgan cringed under her father's wrath. He'd been angry with her before, but never like this. His eyes were bulging, spittle clung to the corners of his mouth and his face was crimson as he ranted over her role in Preston's arrest.

Cash must have been worried for her safety because he stepped closer, his body ready to swing into action in her defense.

Despite her father's hurled anger, Cash kept her feeling protected. She'd been so lucky when she'd met the FRS team. They were all strong, honest and true, with compassion for one another and those they helped. Everything she'd wished for in her family but had never found. Things and possessions always came before people. Even her father's defense of Preston was more about getting Preston to take over the company than it was about caring for Preston as a person.

Her heart shattered at the realization, and she needed to get her father out of the room before she broke down in tears. “I'm sorry if this caused you grief, Dad, but Preston broke the law.”

“Because you set him up.” Her father continued to glare down on her. “Don't you ever think before doing things?”

She forced herself not to cringe and to stay strong. “If he's cleared of all charges except trespassing, I'll drop those charges, and he'll be okay.”

“Really? Really?” Her father crossed his arms. “You think arresting a man with Preston's status and means won't be a problem for him? Tongues will be wagging at the club. At the gym. It's going to be a PR nightmare for both of our companies. All because you got a crazy thought about him being a stalker and poisoning you.” He shook his head.

“It's not a crazy accusation, Dad. I
have
been stalked. I was poisoned, and Preston did use my keys to enter my apartment without permission. He was caught red-handed, as they say.”

“But he's family and you had him arrested before even talking to him. Before calling me to resolve this in a civilized manner. Unbelievable.”

“It's quite believable, sir.” Brady had come in the door, and Morgan hadn't even heard or seen him. Her father spun on Brady, but he stood strong, his shoulders back, his feet planted wide on the floor, his expression tough and unyielding. “Preston is a prime suspect or he wouldn't have been charged, and I'm confident the search of his home and work will provide the proof we need.”

“Search?” Her father's voice rose but choked off at the end. “You can't be serious. You got a judge to sign off on such a crazy thing?”

Brady took a deep breath. Met Cash's gaze where he stood on the other side of the room. Motioned for him to take a hike.

“He's a piece of work,” she heard Cash whisper as he passed her father.

Brady scowled and waited for Cash to exit, then faced her father again. “A judge found merit in our request so it's time for you to reconsider your take and step it down a notch. And—” Brady drew out the word “—did you ever think it might be more important for you to ask if Morgan was going to be all right or if the poison caused any lasting damage rather than wondering if Preston is going to have a soiled reputation?”

He turned back to Morgan. “Has it?”

Morgan hated that his tone hadn't softened in the least. “Not that doctors can tell at this point.”

“Good, but that doesn't excuse your actions. You've taken this independence thing too far, Morgan. It's time to come back to Thorsby Mill where you belong. Drop the charges against Preston and offer to take your rightful place as his fiancée. I'm sure when you do, Preston will break off his engagement to Natasha for you.”

“This isn't a whim, Dad.” Morgan crossed her arms. “I'm never coming back to my old job. Even if I wanted to, I can't. My faith won't allow it.”

“What?” His voice shot up. “Faith? What in the world are you talking about?”

“God has a purpose for me and it's not to defend the company. It's to help struggling people get a leg up in life.” She smiled. “I've not only helped people, but I've found more fulfillment and happiness these last few months than in all my years representing the mill.”

“Fine. Forget the job. Just move back home where Preston and I can keep an eye on you. If you'd never left, something like this wouldn't have happened.”

Her mouth dropped open and she sputtered as she tried to wrap her mind around her father's accusation. “You're blaming me for having a stalker?”

“Not blaming you, just saying a stalker would never get near you in our compound.”

“Living in your compound isn't living. It's enduring. Enduring your desire to make me into the perfect socialite you always wanted me to be.” She eyed him. “It's time you realize no matter what you try to do, I can't and won't be that woman. I am living on my own and loving it.” She tried to put enthusiasm into her tone, but in all honesty, the “alone” part hadn't been as grand as she had hoped. But once this stalker thing was over, she'd be fine.

“We'll see about that.” He fisted his hands. “So far I've let you keep the car. The gym and club memberships. If you really want to be on your own, then give them up.”

She grabbed her purse from the table and dug out her key ring. She pulled the BMW key free and slapped it on her father's palm. “I can always take MAX and save up for a car of my own. And I can work out elsewhere. Now, if you don't mind, I need to rest.”

He stared at her and her stomach churned. “Think about what I said about dropping charges against Preston. It would be in your best interest to comply.” He pivoted and marched toward the door, shouldering Brady out of the way as he passed.

Brady looked down at her, his eyes filled with pity—the last thing she needed.

“You don't need to feel sorry for me,” she said, making sure she sounded strong when her insides were quivering like gelatin. “I've known my father was this mean-spirited for a long time. I just wasn't willing to admit it until lately. But it doesn't matter. Not at all. I'm on my own. Starting my life over as I want. I don't need his money or things. He may live for what money can buy—think he's a better man because of his wealth—but that's not important to me at all. Never has been. In God's eyes, we're all equal and that's all that matters to me.”

Brady's eyes cleared and he smiled, but she had no idea what he found to be happy about in her ongoing struggle with her father. Maybe he was humoring her little tirade.

“Listen to me going off like this,” she said. “I'm sorry. I guess I'm still letting Dad get to me. That will change. Once we resolve this stalking issue, I'll go back to my life. To my job and apartment. Without his interference. I'll be on my own again, and nothing is going to stand in my way. Nothing.”

Brady seemed to deflate at her comment. She didn't get what was going on in his brain, but he turned away before she could ask.

He sat in the chair in the corner and took out his phone. “I'd like to invite the team over to talk about Preston. If you're not up for seeing them, we can talk in the hallway, but I'd like to get their input on this development and I'm not leaving you alone.”

“Actually, I'd be glad to have the company.”

“Then I'll get Jake on the phone and arrange it.”

As he talked with Jake, she watched Brady from under her lashes. He'd been there for her every step of the way and didn't ask for anything in return. This was so foreign to the world she'd been raised in. The whole team was like that.

“They're on their way.” Brady shoved his phone into his pocket and dug out the snowman he'd been carving. “Darcie's going to smuggle in a container of her famous chicken tetrazzini for you.”

“That will be nice.” The strain of her father's tirade suddenly hit, and she felt weary to the bone. “I think I'll rest until they get here.”

Concern washed over his face. “Can I get you anything?”

“No. Just... Brady.” She peered at him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being you. For being here for me. For everything. Thank you.” Their gazes met and held. She felt the electricity in the air and for the first time, she wished things could be different. That she could give in to her heart and curl her finger to beckon him across the room. To kiss him and tell him that he meant more to her than she'd thought possible.

But after today...after her father...after his hurtful words, her quest to get her life onto a firm foundation before pursuing a relationship was even more important, and she couldn't let feelings for Brady get in the way.

BOOK: High-Caliber Holiday
7.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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