Read High-Caliber Holiday Online

Authors: Susan Sleeman

High-Caliber Holiday (18 page)

Including her feelings for Brady. She wished she'd told him how she felt. That he'd become important to her. No, more than important. Necessary.

Give me the chance, Father. Please.

Lacy suddenly stopped her frantic pacing to stand next to Morgan. Eyes that were dark and lifeless locked on Morgan.

Morgan recognized Lacy's grim resolve for what it was. The end. Lacy smiled and raised the knife. The blade caught a shaft of moonlight that broke through the clouds. The snow stopped falling. Morgan's peace fled and terror caught her by the throat. She tried to swallow. To breathe. Couldn't.

A shot rang out. Lacy's hand whipped back. She grabbed her arm and cried out in pain. The knife clattered against a rock and bounced into the dark. She tumbled to the ground. A solid thump sounded, and her lamp extinguished. She didn't make a sound. All was quiet.

A figure in the distance, barreling through the scrub, caught Morgan's attention. The moon shone on him. His body was tall and his steps sure and fluid.

Brady?
It had to be. Who else could have gotten off a shot from such a distance and hit a target as small as Lacy's wrist?

Thank You, Father.

“Morgan,” he shouted as he approached. “Morgan, call out.”

“I'm fine,” she yelled back. “You hit Lacy's hand. She dropped the gun. She's on the ground. Not moving.”

He bounded into the clearing. Dropped to his knees.

Morgan couldn't see him, but she heard him moving around and then the metallic sound of handcuffs clicking into place. Her knees felt weak at the blessed, wonderful sound.

Brady came to his feet. “Lacy's alive. She hit a rock and has a head wound.” He stood and moved toward Morgan. “Local authorities are on the way. Let me get those restraints off.”

She couldn't wait for him to free her so she could throw her arms around his neck and hold him close. “How did you find me?”

“I was on the way to talk to your dad and called you. Found out you were missing. Archer suggested that fire and poison were often methods women used to kill so he reviewed the plaintiff list to look for a woman and found Lacy's connection. Then he found her phone number in your cell and tracked her GPS.”

The ropes fell off as sirens sounded in the distance. Brady sliced through the zip ties, the muscles in her arms feeling as if they were tearing as she pulled them forward.

He came around front. Cupped her face. “Are you really okay, honey?”

“I am now that you're here.” She smiled. “I'll always be good with you nearby.”

His eyes locked on hers. Searched, probed. His gaze heated up, blazing with warmth. He lowered his head and his lips descended on hers. Warm, giving, he kissed her gently. Softly. She was aware of raised voices heading toward them, but she couldn't move. Didn't even try to move. It was high time she accepted the fact that when it came to Brady she was powerless to resist.

TWENTY

M
organ sat in the passenger seat of Brady's truck, waiting for him to say goodbye to whoever he was talking with on the phone. The call had come in a few moments ago, and he'd looked so serious before stepping away. She'd known it was important and he had to take it, but she hated being separated from him for even these few moments. As if he felt her eyes on him, he turned and met her gaze. She smiled. He returned it with an intimate smile that melted her heart.

He hastily said something, then jogged to the truck and slid in. “There's something I have to tell you that you're not going to like.”

“What? You're married,” she joked, because she didn't think she could handle one more bit of bad news today and his serious tone said it was going to be very bad news.

He didn't return her smile, raising her apprehension even more.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“Your father,” he said not looking away. “Preston claims your father knowingly discharged bleaching chemicals into the river.”

“No!” Morgan jerked back and shook her head hard. “No. Dad may not be the nicest of men, but he wouldn't do something like that. Preston must be lying.”

Brady reached for her hand again, and she tucked it under her leg. She could see that she'd hurt him, but she couldn't accept comfort when she was still reeling from the news that her father allowed dangerous chemicals to contaminate water used by thousands of people. That he was the reason so many people died and their families suffered.

“Here's the thing,” Brady continued. “Before I knew you were missing, I overheard Preston talking to a man he paid to leave the roses and pictures for you while Preston was out of town. Orion Transport's in financial trouble, and he was trying to scare you into moving home where he could get back together with you and merge the companies to save Orion.”

Morgan tightened her fingers into a fist. “You must be wrong. He's engaged to Natasha.”

Brady took a deep breath and Morgan dreaded the next words from his mouth. “That was Jake on the phone. Preston admitted he wasn't engaged when he first started taking the pictures of you. When Natasha came into his life, he saw an easier way to get his hands on money. Problem was, her family had financial issues, too, and she was planning to marry Preston for
his
money. When Preston discovered that, he returned to scaring you, but stayed with Natasha to throw you off track.”

Brady paused and Morgan knew more bad news was coming. “Preston provided proof that your father knew about the stalking, too.”

“No,” she said, but the word held no weight. “It can't be true.”

“I'm sorry, honey, but it is. The DA has already reviewed the evidence and offered Preston immunity for the stalking.”

“Why would the DA agree to that?”

“Preston's going to testify against your father. This is an election year and the DA wants a big win that will touch the voters' hearts.”

“No,” she said again, but it was nothing more than a whisper. She bit her lip, thinking, and her plea to God not even an hour ago came back. She'd begged Him to allow her to let go of the resentment toward her father. To let her father know Him.

“I need to talk to my dad,” she said, and hoped God would give her the right words to say.

Brady kept his gaze glued on her. “That's not a good idea, honey.”

“I've got to face him, or I won't be able to move on.”

“Fine,” Brady agreed reluctantly. “But you can't tell him anything about Preston.”

“I can do that.” She clutched Brady's arm. “Can we go see him now? I want this all done with and behind me.”

“I was supposed to meet with him so I know he's in his office.” Brady sat silently for a long moment, then leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I'll be right by your side when you talk to him. I'm there if you need me, okay?” He gave a lopsided grin that melted her heart.

“Absolutely.”

He fired up the pickup and they drove to the far side of the building where her father's office was located. Thankfully, it was far enough from where Lacy had dragged her that he wouldn't have seen or heard the commotion. He met them at the door and invited them up to his office. He offered Brady a scotch, but ignored Morgan. Right. Just as expected. He didn't think she could do anything for him, so why waste his efforts on social niceties?

Brady declined the drink, stepped closer to Morgan and took her hand.

She smiled up at him, squeezed his hand, then freed herself and approached her father's desk.

“You lied to me,” she said, making sure to keep all hurt from her voice and stick to the facts. “Not only were bleaching agents discharged into the river, but you knew all about it and covered it up so you wouldn't have to take responsibility for the lives you ruined.”

He dropped into his desk chair and jutted out his chin. “Says who?”

“I'm not at liberty to say.”

“But you believe this allegation against me?”

Confronting him was a lot harder than she'd expected and emotions surged through her body. She felt like she was a little girl, standing before his big desk, asking for something she knew he'd deny. She didn't trust her voice so she nodded. Brady must have picked up on her unease as he stepped up next to her.

Her father's lips narrowed in a tight smile. “Doesn't matter, now, does it? There's no proof.”

Her mouth dropped open for a moment. “So you're saying you did it?”

He smirked. “Not saying I did. Just saying
if
I did something like that, I'd make sure there wasn't any proof.”

Morgan knew her father. This was not only a confession, but he was bragging about how he would hide it. He was nothing like the fine, honorable and forthright man standing beside her who would help her deal with yet another blow to her life.

The urge to yell at her father, to chastise him for hurting people, was strong, but she remembered her prayer and took a second to compose herself. “Things will go easier for you if you confess, Dad. I'll even help work on your defense and get you the best deal possible.”

He shot to his feet, his eyes dark with anger. “I'm not worried, little lady. They won't be able to prove anything.”

Brady glared at her father. “You're wrong, Mr. Thorsby. We have all the proof we need. You're going down for this, and despite the way you've treated Morgan over the years, she's trying to help you. Open your eyes and see her. She's an amazing woman who could teach you so many things.”

Her father arched a brow. “If she wanted to help me, she would never have left the company.”

Morgan's heart ached for the pain she heard in his voice. “I had to leave, Dad. Before I became as jaded and cynical as you are. Life isn't all about money or things it can buy. It's about so much more, and I want to help you see that.”

He took a step back and, for the first time in her life, she saw him hesitate. This was a start. A good start. Hopefully, she'd put a chink in his impenetrable armor, and if she backed off now maybe he'd see the right thing to do and turn himself in. He'd be facing a long prison term, but she'd visit him and share her faith. And, God willing, her father would finally discover the real meaning of life.

* * *

Brady hugged Morgan to his side as they walked to his truck. She was trembling. He didn't know if it was anger at her father's treatment or the pain of fully seeing him for who he really was. It had hurt her, badly, and Brady didn't know what to do about it except help her into the pickup.

He took the driver's seat and swung the truck onto the highway so he could get her as far from the mill as possible. “I'm sorry, honey. About your dad, I mean.”

She sighed. “You know, I thought I'd put all this behind me when I moved out of the guesthouse, but I guess I haven't.”

“It's not an easy thing to do.”

She swiveled to face him. “You sound like you speak from experience.”

His first response was to shut down as he always did, but if he was going to have a meaningful relationship with Morgan, he had to tell her about his past. “Actually, we have a lot in common here.”

“Did your father treat you like this, too?”

“Father? No. I don't even know who my father is, and my childhood was just the opposite of yours, but it left similar scars.”

She shifted closer. “Tell me about it.”

“My mother's an alcoholic,” he started before he chickened out. “We didn't have money like you. I grew up in a ratty old trailer park. Other kids teased me, and I felt like trash. Mom managed to keep her problem under control most of the time and hold down a job, but everyone in our small town knew her problem. Honestly, I resented her until yesterday and let it eat at me.”

She took his hand resting on his knee. “Yesterday?”

He wasn't used to spilling his guts, and he felt as exposed as the kid in hand-me-downs standing in front of a school assembly to receive an FHA award for Bessie. He curled his fingers around the wheel and squeezed. “See, here's the thing. While you were in the hospital, I had a lot of time to think about how you were poisoned. Somehow, I went from thinking about physical poison to emotional poison.” He paused and glanced at her to gauge her interest.

“Go on,” she encouraged.

“I listened to their opinions of me. Of my mom. And let them define who I was. I've always felt lacking. Like I wasn't good enough. Everywhere but in the marines. But you know what?” he asked, eager to share his recent revelation. “Holding on to stuff like that doesn't work. It's like taking poison and expecting the people who hurt you to die. But they don't. They go on with life as if nothing happened. They may not even remember the hurt they inflicted—”

“While you're hurting inside,” she finished for him. “That's profound, Brady.”

“Yeah, kind of deep for me, right?” He grinned.

“Don't.” She tightened her grip. “Don't joke about it like you always do. You're an amazing man. One I'm proud to know. Proud to call my friend. Money means nothing to you, which is exactly the way it should be. You're twice the man my father and Preston are, and your insight could very well give me the help I need to let go of this latest news about my father.”

“That's good, then,” Brady said, and stared at the road ahead.

It had felt good to open up. To see she didn't care about his past, about his lack of money. It meant he could pursue her and not worry about his financial status. But she'd called him friend. Just friend. Even after the kiss they'd shared, she said friend.

He looked at her, but she was staring off into the distance. She'd been through so much and it wasn't the time to press her. He'd settle for friend. For now, but that was going to change as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

* * *

After answering all the questions and giving her statement, Morgan was beat and didn't want to socialize with the FRS members. At the firehouse door, she hung back and admired the strings of Christmas lights reflecting like stars in the snow. She'd forgotten Skyler was due to return tonight for the special Christmas party she hosted for her team members.

Morgan suspected everyone would be dressed up, and she was covered with mud and grime from Lacy's attack. So was Brady, but it didn't seem to faze him. He escorted her into the family room where the entire team and their significant others had gathered, and as she suspected, they were wearing dressy attire. The Christmas tree was lit, as were the zillion candles in the room along with lights twinkling on the fireplace and the banister.

The place felt so welcoming. So warm and peaceful, but Morgan didn't know what her role was with the FRS team. Her role with Brady was equally confusing. After nearly dying and the kiss they'd shared, she was certain of her feelings for him. She wasn't certain of what it meant for her future, though. It had made sense for her to be here when she was in danger, but now...what was her purpose here?

Darcie caught sight of Morgan and rushed across the room, her high heels clipping loudly across the concrete floor. She lifted Morgan's chin and eyed her carefully. “You weren't hurt?”

Morgan laughed. “Relax, I'm fine. I've already been checked over by the medic called to the scene if you don't believe me.”

Darcie frowned. “No one is as thorough as I am.”

“Isn't that the truth?” Brady grinned. “Sometimes painfully true.”

Darcie rolled her eyes. “Hey, I've saved your hide a time or two, so I wouldn't complain.”

He gave Darcie a quick hug, his eyes alive with something Morgan hadn't seen in him before. A petite woman wearing a sparkling red dress, her hand outstretched, came around to them.

“I'm Skyler,” she said, taking Morgan's hand. “Everyone's been filling me in on what I've missed. I'm sorry you went through so much, but I would've loved to have been in on that investigation.”

Morgan opened her mouth to apologize for destroying the condo, but a tall, handsome man in a black suit stepped up and rested his hands on Skyler's shoulders.

“My wife—I love how that sounds, by the way—” he paused to grin down at her “—loves nothing more than a challenging investigation when she's not negotiating some standoff and is wearing her deputy's Special Investigator hat.”

“Ah, no, husband.” She smiled up at him. “I love you more.”

“Well, that's a given.” He drew her under his arm.

Darcie made a fake gagging sound.

“I second that,” Archer added.

“Now, come on, guys,” Krista said. “Nothing to gag about there. I mean, I can totally relate.” She pointed at the mistletoe above her head and kissed Cash soundly. The group groaned.

Cash broke free. “You're ruining my reputation here, sweetheart.”

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