Building Ties (Military Romantic Suspense) (SEAL Team Heartbreakers Book 4) (29 page)

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Authors: Teresa Reasor

Tags: #Romance, #Military, #Anthology, #Bundle, #SEALs

BOOK: Building Ties (Military Romantic Suspense) (SEAL Team Heartbreakers Book 4)
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“I didn’t have to use your name, but when you release your story they may have some idea who connected the dots.”

She took a deep breath. There was no way around it. “Were my suspicions relevant?”

“Yeah. They’re looking into Jay Gordon’s uncle, too.”

Sometimes it sucked to be right. “Thanks for calling me, Clarence.”

“You earned it.”

Tess caught Brett’s arm and pulled him off to one side to give him a quick rundown on what had happened.

“I never realized what a political balancing act your job could be.”

“When you’re dealing with people there are always unexpected variables.”

Now she had to deal with interviewing Jason Hamilton. Tess focused for a moment on the metal wall decoration welded with sheets of copper fashioned into skyscrapers and twisted wire that represented clouds. Worked into it with creative flare was the name Hamilton Construction.

With Hamilton’s reputation for being less than faithful to his wife, she’d decided to go in for the interview alone.

She’d told Elgin Taylor she’d never use her looks to get a story, but she wasn’t above using her legs.

“Are you sure about this?” A frown was ready to form between his brows.

“If, after I meet him, I feel uncomfortable, I’ll come to the door and invite you in. Hamilton doesn’t have a reputation for being a letch, only a hound.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like the idea of him sniffing around you.”

“I still remember all the self-defense moves you taught me, Brett.”

“But you don’t have the bloodlust to use them, honey.”

“I will if I feel threatened.”

Tess walked to the reception desk, stretching the length of the wall. A tall brunette rose from behind it. “May I help you?”

“My name is Tess Kelly. I have an appointment with Mr. Hamilton at four.”

The girl checked something on her computer and picked up the phone. When she hung up, she said, “He’s waiting for you. His office is the third door on the right, just down that hall.” She pointed to the left.

“Thanks.”

Brett fell into step beside her. When they got to the correct door, he took a parade rest stance against the wall.

“Do you intend to stand outside the whole time?”

“Yeah.”

She rested her hand on his chest. “I’ll be okay.”

The firm muscle worked beneath her palm as his fingers stroked her hip, his eyes gray-blue and intent. “You know how you were talking about degrees of lechery in the car?”

“Yes.”

“All men are lechers. Some of us have more self-control than others, or are more willing to abide by social expectations, but we’re all about opportunity. You don’t want to give this guy an opportunity, Tess.”

Stunned by his words, all she could think was,
Wow
. He projected a smartass, cocky SEAL persona, and a playful lover persona, but when Brett decided to get serious, he didn’t mess around.

She swallowed. “I won’t. I promise.” She skimmed his cheekbone with her lips and stepped away when someone turned the corner and walked toward them. She knocked on Hamilton’s office door and it opened after a moment’s pause.

Gary Hamilton was in his late fifties but looked younger. His dark hair swept back from a masculine, square-jawed face with a touch of stubble.

“Miss Kelly, please come in.”

He raised his brows when he noticed Brett.

Tess motioned to Brett. “This is my fiancé, Brett Weaver. He’s doing double duty as my security detail.”

Hamilton stepped forward to offer his hand to Brett but his gaze remained on Tess. “Oh, yes. I read the article about your car. So glad you weren’t hurt.”

“Thank you. I’ll only be a short while, Brett.”

“Should you need something to drink, eat, anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask Kella at the reception desk,” Hamilton said, indifference in his voice. He motioned Tess into the office and shut the door.

“What does your fiancé do for a living?” he asked.

Because of the man’s dismissive attitude toward Brett, Tess suppressed the urge to tell him he was a SEAL, and instead said, “He’s in the Navy.”

“I could tell he was military of some sort.”

Tess took in the office space as, with his fingertips against the back of her arm, Hamilton guided her toward a seating group to the right. The plush gray carpet beneath her feet felt like sponge. With Brett’s warning playing through her mind, she bypassed the overstuffed sofa and sat in the maroon chair diagonal to it.

Hamilton offered her a smile, then took a seat on the couch, but leaned toward her.

She had been wrong. Gary Hamilton was a lecher of the first order, and he was in full-on letch mode.

“What can I do for you, Ms. Kelly?”

“I’m doing a series of interviews about the construction companies in our area. I wanted some history on your company to flesh out the article.”

“Well, I started the company in 1979 with my father and brothers, Michael, David, and Corey. My dad died ten years after the business was established. Then the rest of us took over. My brothers take care of the daily construction schedules and sites, while I deal with bringing in more business.”

“Do you concentrate mostly on commercial construction?”

“That brings in the most money, but on occasion we do residential as well. It depends on the client.”

“I noticed you dropped out of the bidding on the Ellison Project. It’s a huge project. Can you tell me why you decided to pull your bid?”

“We had another big project that was going to conflict with that one and decided to pull out.”

Tess remained silent for a moment. “Mr. Hamilton.”

“You can call me Jason.”

Tess caught herself in an eye roll. “My paper isn’t a gossip rag, and we’re not interested in spreading rumors or causing you any personal embarrassment. But I have run across some information during my research for this article.”

“What kind of information?”

“Do you know a woman named Sherry Faulkner?”

Hamilton’s smile grew edgy. “I don’t believe I know anyone by that name.”

Tess removed a file folder from her bag and extended it to him.

Hamilton flipped it open and his cheeks grew dangerously red while his hazel eyes turned dark. For a moment, he looked on the verge of losing control. He took several deep breaths, then slid back in his seat. “Where did you get this?”

“It was given to me by someone who was actually trying to do you a favor. She lost her life trying to bring attention to, not the affair, but the purpose behind the report.”

Tess scooted forward in her seat. “I’m not interested in causing you any grief, sir. But I am interested in one corporation using blackmail and other strong-arm tactics to win lucrative contracts, by taking out their competition—any way they can. And so is the San Diego Police Department. Have they been to see you?”

Hamilton’s jaw worked. “No, no they haven’t.”

Why the hell hadn’t they talked to him? There was keeping an investigation low-key, and then there was not investigating at all.
“Do you know who it was who pressured you into dropping out of the bidding?”

“I have a good idea.”

“Who do you think that person might be?”

“If I had to guess, it would be either Jonathan Frye or Nicholas Brittain.”

“I don’t believe it was Mr. Brittain, Mr. Hamilton. He had his own issues to deal with after the accident on one of his sites.”

“Are you saying—?”

“Since you’ve dropped out of the running, I’d say you’re probably safe. But it might be in your best interest to maintain a higher level of security until things are resolved.”

Hamilton stood and moved restlessly toward the large cherry wood desk. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

“No.”

Producing a cigarette and lighter from a box on his desk, he lit it and inhaled deeply, then leaned back against the desktop.

Tess rose to her feet. “Mr. Hamilton, I think it might be a good idea if you approached the police and discussed with them how you were contacted and—warned off.” Tess wrote Detective Buckler’s number on a piece of paper from her notebook and tore it off. “They’re already aware of the report compiled on you and Ms. Faulkner.”

Hamilton took the piece of paper. “You took it to the police?”

“Yes. After the woman who gave it to me was killed.”

He shook his head. “Was this woman’s death connected to all this?”

“The police are investigating the possibility.” Tess moved back to her seat and retrieved her purse. “I believe it was. The Ellison Project means big money, Mr. Hamilton.”

“You could have used the dossier to embarrass me and my corporation.”

She turned to look over her shoulder. “I cover the crime beat, Mr. Hamilton. It isn’t criminal to cheat on your wife.” Though his wife might see it differently if she found out. “But it is criminal for someone to blackmail you.”

“And this whole interview was—”

“So I could get confirmation you were actually pressured into withdrawing your bid.”

He stubbed out the cigarette. “Are you going to use my name, our name, in the article?”

“You should be the one to seek criminal charges against the person who wronged you. It isn’t my place to pressure you into doing so. If you don’t go to the police, though, and these people aren’t stopped, what’s to keep them from using the same information against you again?”

“If I don’t go to the police, you aren’t going to use the report?”

“No. It isn’t news. It’s just a family affair. The news I’m after is a corrupt construction company boss who is manipulating the system and winning bids through illegal means for projects he might not win legally.”

His expression relaxed somewhat.

“If you don’t do anything to take him down, Mr. Hamilton, the next time might cost you even more. And if the police find evidence of blackmail, they won’t be as considerate as I am about how they go about investigating. It’s going to be out there for everyone to see eventually. I’d try and get out in front of this, if you can.”

“You didn’t tell me who you got the report from.”

“It was a woman named Mary Stubben. She was a secretary who worked in Nicholas Frye’s office. The report was compiled by a private investigator named Sullivan.”

Hamilton breathed an oath.

“Call the police, Mr. Hamilton.”

Tess moved to the door and opened it. She smiled at Brett still standing right where she’d left him. “I’m through here.”

*

Brett studied Tess’s
smile. She’d cracked Hamilton. He could tell from the swing of her hips. “Are you going to tell me about it?”

“Outside.”

“Did you have to use your legs?”

“No. In fact you were right. He’s a letch, big time.

“But you busted his balls.”

She cocked her head. “Figuratively speaking.”

Once they were outside, she looped her arm through his and shifted her bag higher on the other shoulder. “I’m sorry for the way he treated you. He’s not only a letch, he’s an asshole.”

Brett laughed. He’d dealt with worse. He’d been more concerned about her being alone in the office with the guy.

“Once he knew I had a copy of the report about the affair, he was so upset all he could think about was whether or not I was going to use it in the paper.” She frowned. “The police haven’t contacted him. What do you think that’s all about?”

He shook his head. “Sullivan having compiled the file for Frye doesn’t prove he blackmailed Hamilton with the information.”

“But Hamilton admitted to me he has been blackmailed. He said he believed it was either Frye or Brittain. I encouraged him to call the police, but I doubt he will.”

“Are you going to call Hart and Buckler?” he asked.

“I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

He understood the impatience laced with anger in her voice. After their last meeting with the detectives, and his conversation with Captain Jackson, he’d had more than a few periods of frustration himself.

“I got a message while you were in with Hamilton. Homeland has signed off of the investigation, but the FBI is still involved.”

Her hand tightened on his arm. “Progress, for what it’s worth. Who texted you?”

“Captain Jackson. So at least we know terrorists aren’t involved.”

“I’ve called repeatedly and they won’t tell me anything. Will you call and check the status of the investigation? They might be more willing to tell you something.” She jerked her chin up. “And what the hell is up with that? I’m the victim, here. It was my car blown up and they’ve been hiding out, refusing to talk to me.”

“I’ll call them and Jackson once we get to the Café,” Brett said, looking both ways before urging her across the street.

“How did he hear?”

He’d avoided telling her about the freeze on his promotion. There was a certain amount of embarrassment in admitting to your fiancée you wouldn’t be promoted. “He and Lieutenant Commander Jeffrey are close friends. That’s not something I know for sure, it’s the impression I got. They’ve been in contact with Homeland and the FBI since the investigation started.”

“So they’ll talk to SEAL command, but not to the victim?”

She was steaming and rightly so. If she were anyone besides a reporter, the powers that be would be more open with information.

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