Chapter 12

12

Brandt's family was driving him insane—and getting in his way. Here he was at the one place he wanted to be, and the woman he loved was actually looking at him now—giving him attention—and he had to deal with his siblings' drama.

Starting with his sister.

Something was going on with Powell. Brandt was almost certain of it.

That was confirmed when they were sitting down in the lobby of the inn and a man he recognized from Finley Creek walked through the inn's front doors. Definitely a man he recognized—and one who was going to be a problem for his sister.

Detective Gunnar Erickson had been assigned to guard Powell recently after she had nearly been abducted. The threats to his sister were now identified, Brandt had been told—not that he fully believed it—but she was still being followed around by a personal bodyguard. If Brandt had his way, she'd have two guards.

But Powell was proving very stubborn in that regard.

His twin drove him crazy sometimes. She was the stubbornest woman on the planet.

Erickson was in Masterson to meet with the local police about the drugs that had been discovered in Wyoming. Drugs Brandt had been told confidentially were being manufactured in Finley Creek. People he knew were being hurt because of those drugs. Far too many of them. Including his sister and her friends.

The men responsible for those drugs had targeted Powell.

No one had fully explained why yet.

Brandt had paid investigators of his own to do some looking. He wouldn't call them off until they had real answers.

Some of those damned drugs were being found in Masterson County. In barns on abandoned properties. It was why he'd been stupid enough to be out in his own damned barn late at night in the first place. He wasn't going to be so stupid again.

He'd left his handgun in the truck.

He wasn't going to go without it again.

Powell practically squeaked and tried to escape the instant Erickson recognized her. She was all big-eyed and practically vibrating.

"I am so in trouble now. I am not ready to do this now ," Brandt could swear his sister muttered under her breath. Then Powell was up and going right to meet the man in the center of the lobby.

If she was in trouble, why was she going to the man and looking at him like that ?

Brandt wasn't an idiot.

"Him again," Alex practically grumbled. His brother was in a foul mood and had been since a call from his neighbor. Apparently, someone had vandalized his brother's trashcans and spread trash all over his brother's new yard. The neighbor and her nephew had cleaned up the mess, but the police wanted to speak to Alex about the possibility that it was related to a case. Or if Alex, never the most friendly guy, had just pissed someone off again. It happened. His brother had trouble peopling, Powell liked to say. Brandt fully agreed. "What's he doing up here?"

Well, how the hell should Brandt or Mac know? "Probably TSP business."

"I'm sure we'll find out," Mac said. "Why does that guy have his hands on her like that? Is his hand on her ass ?"

Yes. It was.

Because Powell was stretched up, practically pressed against the man who was nearly the same size as Brandt. She was whispering in his ear, a look of concern on her face. Her hands were on Erickson, too.

Very familiarly. That gave Brandt a moment of concern—Powell didn't just touch men that easily. She'd always struggled with relationships—friendships and romantic relationships. Especially romantic relationships. They scared her, he'd always thought.

And there was something in the way Erickson was looking at her—Brandt just knew, in that moment, his sister and Erickson had slept together. He'd bet a million on it.

That was something he wasn't going to think about ever again, actually.

Now, thinking about the various ways he could tear Erickson apart—even in his current condition—that was a different story. That was his only sister right there, after all.

But he liked Erickson, even if Alex and Mac were going into overprotective baboon mode at the moment. The guy was up front and honest and compassionate. He'd seen that himself when Powell's best friend had been shot on the job recently. He couldn't see Erickson deliberately doing anything to hurt Powell, either. Or chasing after Brandt's twin for the money she was amassing. Erickson wasn't like that.

Then his sister was back. "I'm going up to my room. I am going to order room service, call mom, and then take a nice, long, hot bath. You three, behave. And keep an eye on him, too. That man, he's up to something. I just know it."

"Why is he even here?" Mac asked, giving Erickson an appraising look that told Brandt he wasn't too happy with the guy's presence. Mac was even worse at the hovering-over-Powell thing than Brandt was. "What is he after?"

"He's here as part of that drug taskforce thing. With the governor," Powell said. They weren't supposed to know about it, but they did. "He thought I was still at Houghton's under guard. Now he isn't happy that I am not. He thinks I should just hide behind protected walls while he catches bad guys. Behave. I'm going to bed."

She tossed a look over her shoulder toward the big blond man at the counter, then took off. Practically at a run, one hand covering her stomach. Had Erickson actually scared her off or something?

First chance he had, he was going to have a talk with her. See if he could fix it. He'd been taking care of her forever—he never intended to stop.