Dead Run. Jodie Bailey

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      Her face was probably twisted into a scowl, not welcoming and definitely unfriendly. He stood so close the warmth of him telegraphed to her, firing whatever she’d felt last night all over again. “No, I’m not here stalking you.” Her voice cracked, so she swallowed the jagged edges of attraction and slid into the SUV, desperate for distance. “I had to bring my brother’s friend something.”

      She reached for the door, but he held tight above the window. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

      Kristin stared out the windshield, refusing to look at him. She’d chosen to keep Kyle’s association with Lucas to herself because their complicated relationship opened doors to questions that led to too many things she didn’t want to talk about. “It’s not something I’m ready to talk about.” Like the fact she hated to be treated like a weak female. And she hated the way she noticed how he smelled like soap and outdoors.

      “But you have a brother.”

      “It didn’t seem relevant.”

      He tipped his head and leaned closer, curiosity arching his eyebrow. “He’s in my battalion? Who is he? Maybe—”

      “He’s dead, Lucas.” She stared at the center of the steering wheel, tears she usually didn’t shed kicking at her eyes. “A sniper killed him.”

      Lucas’s hand fell from the door. “When?” Something in his voice was tight, like he’d wound the words around one of those old-fashioned tops and was waiting to pull the string.

      “About four months ago.”

      “Kyle Coleman?”

      She winced, her brother’s name in Lucas’s mouth like crossing two universes. It was part of the reason she’d never mentioned Kyle to him in the first place. The two pieces of her life didn’t mesh. “Yes.” She reached for the door and grabbed the handle. “I have to go. I’ll—I’ll see you later.” This was too much. Her brother. Lucas. Feeling.

      He backed away and let her slam the door with a little too much force, even though he acted like he had so much more to say.

      Kristin wrenched the key in the ignition and jammed her SUV into Reverse. Lucas thought some crazy guy with her house key was a problem. As far as she was concerned, the biggest danger in her life right now was letting her emotions get tangled with Lucas Murphy.

      * * *

      Lucas stared at his computer screen, reading the Record of Emergency Data for Specialist Kyle Coleman, unable to deny what he saw. Coleman’s sister listed as next of kin.

      Kristin James.

      Her name tensed every muscle in his body. Lucas wanted to pace the room, but that would draw the attention of his first sergeant and a CID agent who stood talking in the hall. Three agents had arrived after the soldiers left for lunch. With the events of the past couple of days, he’d forgotten Travis’s warning. Seemed like they were about to find out which of their guys was in trouble...and why.

      Right now, though, he had to deal with his own problems. Now he had double the reason to downshift this attraction to Kristin. He wouldn’t date the sister of one of his soldiers, even one who was gone. It crossed too many lines, made things too volatile.

      Under cover of his desk, Lucas balled his fists and pressed them into his knees, thankful the men outside were engrossed in their conversation. He didn’t want to think about any of this, let alone talk about it with Travis or CID, not when he couldn’t fully explain her silence and his feelings to himself.

      Specialist Kyle Coleman had barely made the cut as a soldier. He’d made no secret of the fact he’d joined the army for the sign-up bonus, and he was broke more often than not. He’d found every way to skirt the rules and to flout authority. The kid had been a slacker, mouthy and disrespectful. So much so that he’d been busted down a rank and had to work his way to specialist all over again, a slow climb due to continued borderline behavior. Coleman had spent about a month in Lucas’s platoon before getting sent to the S1 shop, working in the mail room. He’d been nothing but trouble...

      Until a bullet found him while he was on guard duty.

      Specialist Coleman had done a lot of things, but nothing deserved death, especially not at the hands of a cowardly terrorist.

      Lucas scrubbed the back of his neck. Why hadn’t Kristin told him? Seemed easy enough. “You’re in the First of the 504th? So was my brother. Small world, huh?” Keeping quiet made no sense, unless she hadn’t realized they were in the same unit. The possibility was remote. The information hadn’t surprised her, and if she’d sent her brother mail, she’d have written the unit designation right on the envelope. It made no—

      Three taps on the metal door frame jerked him to attention. Travis and the CID agent stood there, watching him.

      Travis stepped into the room first. “You busy?” The silent question he fired Lucas’s way was stronger. What’s wrong?

      Nothing he wanted to discuss. He stood and turned to the stranger at Travis’s side. “Sergeant First Class Lucas Murphy.”

      “Major Randall Draper.” The agent dipped a chin. “Murphy. You get a lot of flak for that name?”

      Too much. “Private Murphy’s Law” was a well-known comic strip about army life, and Murphy’s Laws of Combat had been around forever. While both were spot-on, Lucas had grown tired of the comparison. He faked a smile and hoped it looked real. “More than I ever wanted.”

      The major grinned, then dropped the humor just as fast. “It’s time we filled you in on what’s going on in the battalion.”

      Lucas aimed a finger at a nearby chair and sank into his own. Right now was the time to shut the lid on his personal life box and open the professional one. Whatever was happening, the look on the major’s face said it was serious. Lucas braced himself.

      Draper wasted no time, speaking before he’d even settled into the chair. He swept a hand over his dark hair. “Over the years, you’ve probably heard how we’ve had some issues with missing antiquities in Iraq. Civilians, contractors, even a few of our guys grabbing art and small artifacts as souvenirs or to sell off. We started checking equipment coming back, caught a few guys bringing things in rucksacks and Conex containers, but it’s been mostly small stuff, souvenirs, innocent pilfering. Illegal, yes, but nothing on the level of a smuggling ring.”

      “Something escalated?” Lucas glanced at Travis, who sat stone-faced, probably hearing this for the second time. “What’s this got to do with our guys?”

      “Some of the items have shown up on the black market, been advertised on the dark web. We picked up chatter from your area of operations and traced it to some computers on your forward operating base. Some pretty valuable items were brokered when you guys were deployed, and some had multiple buyers for the same item. There’s a lot we’re still deciphering, but someone in this battalion was the deliveryman. The items weren’t large—some vases, a few sculptures—but they have value and are highly collectible. They were never delivered, and we believe they’re in the States somewhere. We’re interested in the specialist who was killed on guard duty near the end of the tour.”

      Lucas schooled his reaction, calling on every trick he’d ever devised to keep his face impassive. Kristin’s brother. Kristin...whom he had СКАЧАТЬ