Cage jumped out of the Jeep and then opened the door for her.
She looked pale but had regained some of her composure. “Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on around here?”
“Inside, please,” he said.
She huffed but turned and made her way up the steps into the building. Once inside, Cage took her arm and led her to the dining room with Smoke and Doc bringing up the rear. The others were already gathered there.
“Welcome back, Miss De Rossi,” Church said, his tone polite. “Please, sit down.”
Bree looked around at their somber faces and then dutifully sat down.
Kate pushed a mug toward her, her smile sympathetic and warm. “It’s herbal tea. You look like you could use it.”
“Thanks.”
Church nodded, indicating that Cage should take the floor first.
“Want to tell us what you were doing out there tonight?” he asked. “I thought you were on your way back to California.”
“Something came up,” she said, lifting her chin slightly.
Even as upset as he was, he appreciated her little show of defiance.
“Must have been pretty important for you to miss your flight.”
“It was.” She brought the mug to her lips and sipped.
She appeared to be cool and calm, but he could still feel her nails digging into his skin, her body shaking in his arms. For those few minutes, she’d been terrified—and with good reason. There was no telling what Petraski would have done had he discovered her out there, skulking around.
“Anything you care to share?”
“Not really.”
Cage wasn’t in the mood to play games. He put Bree’s journal on the table.
Her eyes widened as she reached for it. “How ...”
“You left it in the Mustang when you returned it to the garage.”
“And it ended up in your hands because ...”
“Sean and Nicki Callaghan are good friends of ours.”
“Of course they are,” she mumbled. “I suppose you can read shorthand, too.”
Cage nodded even though, technically, it was Nicki who’d been able to translate Bree’s scribbles into something that made sense.
“You know it’s all bullshit, right?” Cage asked. “All that stuff Petraski told you?”
Bree’s eyes flicked toward Sam. “Yes, I figured that out pretty quickly. What I don’t understand is, why.” When no one answered her, she asked, “Does it have anything to do with the family feud between the Winstons and the Freeds over land rights? Or the fact that the police chief and the fire chief are bumbling idiots? Or maybe it’s got something to do with Lenny Petraski hiding contraband just south of here?”
As they exchanged surprised looks, Heff laughed. “Nicki was right. She is good. She might even be smarter than you, Cage.”
A lovely red flush colored Bree’s cheeks at the compliment.
Church cleared his throat. “For reasons we can’t explain, we can’t answer all of your questions, but we’ll answer what we can. Not tonight though. You’re welcome to spend the night, Miss De Rossi, and tomorrow, when we’re all thinking more clearly, you can ask your questions. Fair enough?”
Bree considered that and then nodded. “Fair enough.”
Everyone said their good nights, leaving Cage and Bree alone in the dining room. He didn’t know what to say. What he wanted to do was crush her to him again, take her back to his trailer, and spend the rest of the night keeping her safe and sated, then personally driving her to the airport and ensuring she got on the next plane to California before she got into any more trouble. But he had no idea where her head was at, and she wasn’t giving him any decipherable clues.
Finally, he exhaled and said, “I can show you to one of the guest rooms, if you’d like.”
Big, dark eyes flashed with disappointment, and he knew he’d said the wrong thing. She nodded.
He walked her up to one of the completed suites on the third floor, away from the other residents. She looked around but didn’t seem particularly pleased with the accommodations.
“Is this room okay?”
“Yes, it’s fine. It’s just ... I thought that maybe ...” She shook her head and looked away. “Never mind.”
“You sure?”
She nodded, but it wasn’t fine. He could see it in her eyes.
“You could stay with me,” he offered quietly, certain she wouldn’t go for it.
The suite was bigger than his cramped trailer, and it even had a tub she could soak in.
Her posture relaxed slightly, and she exhaled quietly, as if relieved. “I’d like that, if that’s okay.”
Okay? He had to resist the urge to belt out a hooyah. “Come on.”
She slipped her hand into his. Entwining his fingers with hers, he led her back downstairs, through the lobby, and out into the night, hand in hand.
“I’m sorry if I scared you earlier.”
“I know,” she said softly. “But you were just trying to protect me, weren’t you?”
“Yes.” He squeezed her hand.
“You know, I knew you were a SEAL, but I don’t think it really hit me until tonight. I never even heard you coming. How did you know I was there?”
“Security cameras.”
“You were watching Lenny unload all that stuff, weren’t you?”
He nodded.
“I don’t suppose you can tell me what that’s all about, can you?”
“It’s better if you don’t know.”
“Better?”
“Safer,” he clarified.
“So, it’s probably not legal then,” she guessed, pulling the pieces together.
He neither confirmed nor denied her statement. Church had said they’d answer her questions in the morning, but exactly how much Church intended to share, he didn’t know.
“Let me just ask you this then: beyond observing, are you involved in whatever he’s doing?”
That he could answer safely. “No.”
“You’re just giving him enough rope to hang himself, aren’t you?” she mused.
It wasn’t really a question, and she didn’t seem to be expecting an answer, so he remained silent.
They reached his trailer. He unlocked the door and allowed her to enter first. “Can I get you anything?”
She yawned and walked toward the bedroom. “Maybe a toothbrush, if you have a spare. And one of your shirts.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Bree
Nick retrieved both items for her and then retreated into the kitchen-slash-living area to
