Page 41 of Damned
Chapter Nineteen
Brandon Banks owned one helluva sweet, eight-passenger luxury utility vehicle with full-time four-wheel drive, a full-size spare, as well as mud and snow-rated heavy-duty tires. Three rows of seats. Eight-speed automatic transmission. Paddle shifters. Kruze was in heaven driving the classy monster.
It was zero-dark-thirty, and the streets were quiet. Bree sat shotgun beside him. She’d changed into jeans, tennis shoes, and a plain black sweatshirt. He was still in the same clothes he’d worn to the group therapy session. Kruze hoped his jacket was somewhere in this vehicle. He’d stored his gear bag, plus a few other things in the odd-as hell lockbox installed in the center of the middle passenger seats.
At first sight, most civilians would think it was a rich man’s idea of a bigger, better console, the way the front of it butted against the back of the front seat. But the two pistol mounts along the sides of that lockbox, plus a few spent fifty caliber shells at the bottom were telling. Kruze wondered what job Brandon had retired from. He certainly looked the part of an average retiree who golfed all day. He was tan, his hair was trimmed short, and nothing about him was threatening. The guy was slender, nothing too impressive or worrisome. But he’d been too accepting of Kruze, too eager to welcome him into the Banks family. Too willing.
There were other tells he might not be who Bree thought he was. He’d distinctly said,‘Sure wasn’t expecting it’d be you,’when he’d met Kruze. Had almost sounded like he’d known him from somewhere. Kruze had let it slide, but now he wondered about the male charged with protecting Robin.
Bree’s parents were sitting in the rear third seat, Robin harnessed between them in a top-class booster seat with drink and snack holders. For the moment, her eyes were glued to the vehicle’s top-of-the-line entertainment system, complete with earphones, watching a program about penguins. Not a cartoon, but a documentary. Kruze kept checking the rearview mirror to see her bright, pretty face. He still couldn’t believe he had a daughter, but he was keeping an eye on Brandon, too.
Breaking the bad news with Bree’s parents had gone well, considering they were told to leave all possessions behind, to take just the barest necessities, and that their lives were in danger. It was Bree coming undone from all their questions that had won Lark and Brandon over. In minutes, bags were packed, a sturdy, super-sized cooler with enough bottled waters, food, and snacks for the long trip was loaded into the LUV, and they were on their way.
Kruze had called Senator Sullivan then, and they’d come up with a plan for two agents from The TEAM, an elite security company based in Alexandria, Virginia, to meet up with Kruze. Those agents would take Brandon, Lark, and Robin to a secure location, while Kruze and Bree went a different way. It was essential to split the Banks family in order to keep everyone safe. Kruze just hadn’t told Bree yet.
He’d already put a call into Wayne to apologize for not showing as planned. He’d asked Wayne to take care of his truck until he returned. The keys were under the rear, passenger-side floor mat. Next, Kruze called home and got a snippy, “Sinclair Ranch, how may I direct your call?”
“Paloma?” Why couldn’t it be Suede?
“Oh, it’s you,” she answered with enough disdain in her tone to choke one of Chance’s horses. Pagan’s wife wasn’t exactly fond of Kruze. They’d had a hate/hate relationship over the years. Still did.
Kruze ignored the attitude. “Please put Chance on.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
“He’s in the barn.”
“Doesn’t he have a phone out there yet?”
“Guess not.”
“Not even his cell?”
“Only if he took it with him. Which he didn’t. It’s sitting here in its charger.”
“Okay, then put Pagan on.” He would do.
“Can’t.”
Kruze deleted ‘why the hell not?’ and strived for just, “Why not?”
“He’s in Bosnia-Herzegovina.”
“Okay then…” Kee-rist! Communication shouldn’t be this hard. “Is Suede there?” She was the pleasant sister-in-law.
“No.”
“Then where is she?” Kruze gritted his teeth, tired of having to drag every bit of information out of Pagan’s stubborn wife.
“She’s outside playing in the snow with Remmie, where do you think?” Remmie was short for Remington, Chance and Suede’s baby boy.
Kruze fought for patience. “Guess you’ll have to do, then.”Damn it.“Do you have access to Chance’s office? To his computer?” This time Kruze hoped she’d say no. He didn’t want Pal accessing his confidential information. But since she was the only one inside the lodge, she’d have to do.
“What do you think?”
His thin hold on patience snapped. “I think you’re rude as shit, Pal. And if I have to ask you to explain one more gawddamned answer—!”
