Chapter 13

A low rumbling sound woke Everly up. At first, she didn’t know what it was until she heard it again. It was Landry’s cell phone. He had some kind of rumbling ringtone.

She opened her eyes and groaned at the sun streaming through the window and at the clock on the bedside table that told her they’d only been asleep for forty-five minutes. It was Landry’s fault. He’d kept her up making love all night. Okay, maybe it wasn’t all his fault. She’d been more than willing to participate. She was replaying a few of the evening’s memorable moments in her head when the serious tone in Landry’s voice caught her attention. She rolled over to see him standing by the bed, his phone to his ear.

“Is he okay?” Landry asked, the worry in his voice unmistakable.

Everly tensed, fearing that one of his SWAT teammates had been hurt on the job. But then his next question confused the heck out of her.

“Has he been arrested yet?”

She tried to get his attention, but Landry held up his finger and asked several more questions before he hung up and grabbed his boxer briefs.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, getting out of bed.

He motioned her back down. “It’s Jim. He got drunk and got in a fight at a bar down near the airport. He’d be in jail already, but the responding officer found my business card in his pocket and figured that maybe this was something I’d want to handle.”

She jumped out of bed again, running for her dresser and clean clothes. She could tell that Landry was upset, and she didn’t want him to deal with Jim on his own. She half expected him to say she didn’t have to go with him, but instead, he leaned over and kissed the top of her head.

“Thanks,” was all he said.

There wasn’t too much traffic yet, so it didn’t take them long to reach the bar the police officer had told Landry about. The parking lot was almost empty, making the black and white patrol car sitting there stand out like a sore thumb.

She saw Jim the moment they walked into the small bar. He was sitting at a table near the back, pretty much passed out. The uniformed officer was standing near the bar with another man that Everly assumed was either the owner or the bartender on duty. The cop approached her and Landry.

He motioned to Jim. “Is this guy a friend of yours?”

Landry nodded. “Yeah.”

The cop—Officer Warwick, according to the name tag on his uniform—explained Jim had gotten drunk and in a fight with some locals when the owner tried to tell him the bar was closing and that Jim couldn’t drink anymore.

“You need to get this guy some help,” the officer said in a soft voice as he handed Jim’s car keys to Landry. “A couple locals took these from him when he tried to leave. He’s been here since seven o’clock last night. The owner said your friend should probably be dead from all the alcohol he put away. People don’t last long drinking like that. He knows your friend is a veteran so he’s not going to press charges, but I can’t guarantee he’ll be so lenient if this happens again.”

“Tell him thanks,” Landry said.

He paid the owner for the half dozen broken chairs, two tables, and the mirror behind the bar that Jim had smashed with a beer bottle. Then he gave the owner a business card.

“If you need help with anything, call me. I owe you.”

The man nodded and slipped the card in his shirt pocket, then went behind the bar to finish cleaning up.

Jim didn’t say a word as Landry helped him up from the table and guided him toward the door. They put him in the back of the Jeep then climbed in the front seats. Everly frowned in confusion when Landry asked Jim where he was staying. How could Landry not remember? They’d been there a few nights ago.

Jim mumbled something about a hotel behind the Doubletree about four or five blocks down the road. She gave Landry a questioning look, but he didn’t say anything as he started the Jeep, a grim, disappointed look on his face.

Everly stared in disbelief when they got to the motel. It definitely wasn’t a Doubletree. Actually, she couldn’t see the name at all, but it kind of looked like a place someone might rent by the hour. Why would Jim make them think he was staying at the Doubletree instead of here? Was he hurting for money that badly? Why hadn’t he said anything? She had no doubt Landry would have helped him, and she would have too.

Jim pointed them toward a room at the end of the building. Landry practically had to carry Jim inside and dump him on the bed. Everly waited outside. Jim seemed like a proud man. This wasn’t something he’d want her to see.

She tried not to eavesdrop, but she could hear Landry asking Jim what the hell was going on with him. Jim was surprisingly coherent for a man who had obviously drank as much as he had.

“I was just letting off a little steam, that’s all.”

“You’re full of shit,” Landry ground out. “Jim, you need to get some help. Drinking like this is going to kill you.”

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite,” Jim shot back. “When you were a tech, you drank like a fucking fish. How many times did I tell you to shower before PT because you reeked of alcohol? And now, you want to call me a drunk. Go fuck yourself!”

Everly turned and walked back to the Jeep, tears stinging her eyes. She didn’t want to hear any more.

Landry came out five minutes later. He cranked the engine and drove out of the motel parking lot without saying a word. Everly wanted to ask him if he was okay, but didn’t. He obviously wasn’t okay. He was upset. If he wanted to talk about it, he would. She wouldn’t push.

But he didn’t say anything the whole way back to her apartment. As upset as he was, though, he still walked her to her apartment and kissed her good night—or good morning, in this case.

“I had an incredible time last night,” he said. “Thanks for coming with me to get Jim. I know that wasn’t easy for you to see.”

“It wasn’t, but I’m glad I came if it made things a little easier for you.” She reached up to brush back an unruly piece of hair that had fallen over his forehead. “You coming over tonight after work?”

His mouth curved, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Definitely. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Landry kissed her again then left. Everly watched him go, wishing she could say something to make everything better. She couldn’t believe how much she hurt for him. Maybe because it seemed like he wasn’t capable of hurting for himself.

* * *

Cooper knew he probably should have gone back to his place to shower. He hadn’t had more than an hour of sleep in the past two days. But the idea of being alone with his thoughts for even that long convinced him that would be a shitty idea. That was why he headed to the compound instead.

The moment he walked in the door of the admin building, Dennis called his cell saying he’d set up a meeting with all the people from the defense firm targeted by the bomber. The CEO would have everyone there in an hour.

“Take Alex and Remy with you,” Xander said from his desk when Cooper hung up. “And keep me in the loop about what’s going on.”

Damn, sometimes it was really nice having coworkers who could overhear a person’s phone call from forty feet away. It definitely cut down on a whole lot of repeated conversations.

Cooper, Alex, and Remy made it to Triple S-I with ten minutes to spare. If not for the big pieces of plywood put up to replace the blown out glass, the place would have looked almost respectable again.

Dennis came over and brought them up to speed on where they were with the case as soon as they walked in the conference room.

“Things are finally looking up. With this recent bombing, Jed and his brothers are looking at life in prison, maybe the death sentence, for being part of a terrorist conspiracy. They’re looking to cut a deal, so we’re bringing in a sketch artist tomorrow for them to work with. With any luck, we’ll find this sick fuck soon.”

Cooper hoped so. He, Alex, and Remy moved to stand in the back of the room as Arnold Braun came in with the company’s corporate officers. Dennis joined them at the big conference table and asked the standard questions: Did any of them have dealings with a distraught member of the military? Did they know someone who had a grudge against the company? Did anyone know someone in the military who died under circumstances that someone might think Triple S-I was involved in? Did any of them have connections to a soldier who had been recently deployed?

They each gave the same answer to each question—no. There didn’t seem to be a reason for these people to be targeted by the bomber. Few of them even dealt with service members in the course of their everyday jobs. They mostly moved paperwork—and money—around.

Cooper was starting to think all of this was a waste of time when another man in a suit walked in. Braun introduced the late arrival as Ryan North, former captain in the U.S. Army. The CEO said something about why North had been late, but Cooper didn’t hear any of it. All he could hear was his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Cooper had never met North because he’d arrived in Iraq the day Cooper had left. North had been the inbound commander of his EOD unit, the one he’d missed by mere minutes when he’d been blown through a brick wall and flown back to the States four years ago.

A sickening feeling churned in his gut, as his heart beat faster. His inner wolf shouted at him that there was no way in hell that North working for the company targeted by the bomber was a coincidence.

As far as Cooper knew, North had quietly left the army after serving his initial officer obligation, his reputation marred by the death of three of his men. But while he’d been the commander of the EOD unit when those men had died, he’d only been a wet-behind-the-ears lieutenant back then. No one expected him to know what the hell he was doing.

Unlike Jim, who’d been the senior and most experienced tech on the op. Jim was the one who’d been forced to live with the rumors, whispers, and innuendoes, saying he was to blame for his fellow soldiers’ deaths every day of his life since it happened.

The sick feeling in Cooper’s stomach got worse as he considered all the other coincidences in this case. Like Jim walking away from the army and EOD, then showing up on his doorstep a few days after the first bombing and drinking like a man desperate to make certain memories go away that night at dinner. Like Jim getting drunk in that bar last night after the second bombing.

Oh, fuck no. Cooper told himself that he had to be wrong. But his gut told him he wasn’t. Ryan North was the bomber’s target, and Jim was the man trying to kill him.

The bottom fell out of Cooper’s world then. For the first time since he’d been lying paralyzed in that burning building in Iraq, he felt powerless and unsure of what to do next.

A part of him refused to believe Jim was involved. There had to be another explanation. Jim was an EOD tech, and techs risked their lives to defuse danger, not blow up people. Jim would never do anything like this.

But another part of Cooper whispered that maybe he didn’t know Jim as well as he thought he did. The Jim that Cooper knew now was different than the Jim he used to know all those years ago. Something bad had driven his friend to get out of the army and out of EOD and start drinking so much. And it wasn’t too hard to figure out that something had been the accident that had killed three of their friends. An accident everyone believed Jim was responsible for.

Even then, Cooper had a hard time accepting Jim would go after someone with a bomb. Would the alcoholic he knew now willingly hurt people—kill people—in a crazy attempt to get revenge?

“Cooper, you okay, man?” Alex whispered from beside him.

Cooper glanced at Alex to see him and Remy gazing at him with concern. “What?”

“Your heart is racing like crazy, and your face is so pale it looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Cooper hadn’t realized he’d let his emotions get away from him like that, but he wasn’t surprised that his pack mates had picked up on it. They were attuned to one another like that.

“Did someone say something that caught your attention?” Remy asked, jerking his head at the conference table.

Cooper shook his head. He forced his heart to slow to normal and took a few deep breaths. “No. I was just thinking about Everly.”

Remy grinned. “Must be nice having a woman who can get your heart racing just by thinking about her.”

Alex didn’t say anything, and he didn’t smile. He regarded Cooper for a moment then turned his attention back to the discussion going on at the table.

Cooper wondered if Alex suspected anything. Maybe. But it wasn’t like his friend knew about Jim, or Cooper’s suspicions.

Cooper turned his attention back to the group at the front of the room, listening to North talk. He wasn’t sure what he expected the man to say, but ultimately, North didn’t say much. While North freely admitted to being in the army a few years ago, he claimed to have no idea who was behind the bombings. He didn’t even offer up any of his fellow soldiers when Dennis prompted. If North thought someone was after him, wouldn’t he say?

The next hour in the conference room was pure hell, as Cooper tried to figure out what he should do. In his heart, he wanted to believe that Jim, a man who had saved his life and was as dear to him as any member of his pack, could never be the bomber. But his head told him it wasn’t his job to protect Jim. It was his job to protect the people in the city who were put at risk by leaving a killer on the streets.

And stuck in the middle of all this was Dennis, a good friend and FBI agent who deserved to know about Cooper’s suspicions.

In the end, he couldn’t say anything to Dennis. Not until he looked in Jim’s eyes and really knew for sure. So, when Dennis asked what he thought about the group of potential targets after the meeting, he remained noncommittal.

Dennis sighed. “Okay. Well, now that we’ve established who was in the parking garage and in the building yesterday morning, we can start looking at everyone these individuals know, and see if someone sticks out. Since North is the only one with ties to the military, we’ll start with him.”

After Cooper dropped Alex and Remy off at the compound, he hauled ass straight for the cheap motel where he and Everly had dropped off Jim that morning. Jim wasn’t there, and the guy at the front desk had no idea if he was coming back.

Cooper sat in his Jeep in the parking lot and agonized over what he should do. He took out his phone to call Dennis, but then shoved it back in his pocket. First he had to find Jim, and then he’d figure out what to do with him.

He drove to the bar by the airport where he and Everly had picked him up, on the off chance Jim had gone back there. He hadn’t. So Cooper got back in his Jeep and went to every place that served alcohol in the same general area. He asked around, talked to the bartenders and the waitresses, left his business card with anyone who would take it.

By the time he got back in his Jeep after the last dive bar, he was mentally exhausted. He cranked the engine and pulled out of the parking lot to head for the highway. Suddenly, he needed to be with Everly. Because when he was, everything was right with the world. And after the last few hours, he could use some of that in his life.