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“And you boys?”
“Of course.”
“Absolutely.” Tai chimed in, too.
The sheriff didn’t look convinced.
Bridger couldn’t blame him. Before the bombing, he wasn’t planning to turn the blackmailer over to the authorities. Whatever the preacher wanted to do would have been okay with him. But the violence changed everything.
“Any reason you two were following Jane this morning?”
Bridger sucked in a breath. The man was a far better interrogator than he would have expected out here in the middle of nowhere. “Jason asked us to keep an eye on his sister while he’s out of town.”
The sheriff grunted. “Strange, given Jane’s done just fine on her own for years.”
Bridger shrugged. “He worries.”
“And you two suspect this explosion has something to do with Jason Reilly’s disappearance?”
“No!” Bridger answered immediately.
While he wasn’t interested in sharing Jason’s business with the man, he had no intention of misleading the sheriff in his investigation of the bombing.
The man weighed his response for a long time before nodding. “I don’t know Major Reilly well, but I do know his sister. She’s a wonderful woman. Until proven otherwise, I’m inclined to give him—and the two of you—the benefit of the doubt. I don’t think this incident had anything to do with the Major’s past, or yours. But if I find out you’re withholding evidence in this investigation, your rear ends are mine. You follow?”
Bridger had to stop himself from saluting. “Understood.”
Tai nodded solemnly. “I hear you, sir.”
The man rose. “One other thing. Keep an eye on Jane. I have a hunch her brother’s business is the kind that creates collateral damage.”
Bridger feigned surprise, but the sheriff wasn’t buying it. “I told you I saw your records. It’s not what was in them that has me worried. It’s what got left out. People with careers like yours end up dead. Sometimes their families, too.” He tapped the edge of the envelope on the doorframe. “Jane’s special. Keep her safe.” He disappeared.
Tai whistled softly. “Hammond’s not an idiot.”
Bridger stared at the open doorway. “Not even close.”
And the sheriff wasn’t wrong. People like him and Tai and Jason had no business having families.
15
Cubingpotatoes took way more effort than Bridger would have guessed. His knife skills in a combat situation were way better than average, but stick him in a kitchen, and things went sideways.
He bit his cheek and tried to concentrate on chopping uniform pieces so Tai would stop glowering at him.
Jane sat on the far side of her breakfast bar, watching the two of them work. They’d only gotten back to her tidy farmhouse ten minutes ago, but her complexion had already brightened. The skin beneath her eyes looked bruised with fatigue, but at least she didn’t seem to be in pain anymore.
Tai whistled as he worked, juggling three pans: bacon, eggs and a skillet full of sliced onions. For a big guy, he was surprisingly agile. Graceful, even.
Watching Tai charm Jane with his cooking skills soured Bridger’s mood. Sure, the smell of frying bacon made his mouth water, but he envied his buddy’s laid-back style too much to ignore.
He snagged a chunk of red pepper from the cutting board and chewed harder than necessary. He could be charming. Kind of. Somehow, around Jay’s little sister, his brain short-circuited.
Unsettling, for sure.
He couldn’t put a name to the feeling, but he didn’t want the woman viewing him as some uptight commando.
“We’re all secretive,” Tai told Jane. “Comes with the territory. But J-man….” He shook his head. The movement threatened to loosen the man bun at the nape of his thick neck. “Your brother is like a vault inside a triple-locked room guarded by a platoon of Special Ops dudes.”
