what?”
“He wouldn’t say, other than they were nothing he was able to pin down that would warrant a story his editor would risk a lawsuit for. But...”
“You’re still uneasy.”
“Yeah, I keep having this feeling I can’t shake. Like there’s something wrong about the whole setup with Bradley. Like he has an agenda he didn’t share with Brenna.”
“Sounds like you have an agenda of your own. And maybe I’m it.” Fearing he already knew the explanation, Casey hunched forward, demanding sharply, “Just why am I here, Will?”
“I need you, Case. I need what you are, a special ops FBI agent with all the skills required to protect the sister who means everything to me. If something is wrong, if she should end up at risk...”
Casey leaned back, laughing. It was a laugh without mirth. “You want me to go down there to St. Sebastian. You want me to be there for her.”
“You could do it. I know you’re available. I know you’re on temporary suspension from the bureau while a case that you were a part of that went bad is under investigation.”
“How did you learn that? It hasn’t been made public.”
“I have my sources. You forget I’m a reporter myself, even if my news is in the sports section.”
“Yeah, I could do it. Not in any official capacity, naturally. I could visit this island for you and not let myself be concerned that I might be taking a chance on screwing up being cleared at the agency, which I expect to be the outcome of the investigation. I could do it, but I’m not going to.”
“I’d pay all your expenses.”
“That’s not the problem. The problem is Brenna. Do I have to remind you, Will, that I’m no longer engaged to your sister? I haven’t set eyes on her since she gave my ring back to me two years ago.”
“So?”
“So, after the way we broke up, she’d no more welcome my interference than she did yours. Not that I’d let that stop me if I thought she was in trouble. Come on, man, face it. Your suspicions are groundless, the product of your imagination.”
“I take it that’s a refusal.”
“It is. Sorry, Will, but whatever my past feelings for your sister, I have no intention of chasing down to this St. Sebastian to help a woman who doesn’t want or need my help. You’ve got to start remembering that Brenna is intelligent and independent. She can take care of herself if she has to.”
“That your final answer?”
“Afraid so.”
Will got to his feet, placed several bills on the table to cover their drinks and a tip and picked up his coat. “Thanks, anyway, for listening to me, Case.”
Not until he was gone, leaving him sitting there, did Casey realize Will had never touched his beer.
Casey should have been on his way himself, but he remained there in the booth, suddenly feeling lousy for disappointing a man who had once been a close friend.
He caught himself gazing unhappily at the photos on the walls. But it wasn’t any of the sports figures he saw up there. It was the radiant face of Brenna Coleman.
He couldn’t help it. Against his better judgment, much against it, he found himself reliving memories of the long, intimate months they had shared. There was one sizzling evening in particular Casey would never forget. It was the first time they had made love.
He had driven them in his convertible that wet summer night to one of the less popular Lake Michigan beaches, parking in a deserted spot looking out at the dark waters.
“You ever come down here with a boyfriend when you were in high school to watch the submarine races?” he’d teased her with that old euphemism for making out at the beach.
Brenna pretended she hadn’t, innocently asking him to explain what couldn’t be possible. He’d enlightened her without words, tangling his hands in her silky hair to draw her into his arms where he’d covered her lush mouth with his own.
Her responses to his deep, lusty kisses had convinced him this wasn’t the first time she had experienced those submarine races at the beach. In the end, like a couple of hormonal teenagers instead of the adults they were, they’d climbed eagerly into the back of the convertible. Thanks to the weatherman on channel nine, he’d raised the top earlier, so they were private enough while, between kisses, they tore at each other’s clothes.
It wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement trying to fit their naked bodies together on that seat, but it was one hell of a memorable one. He could still feel Brenna’s arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, still taste her tongue on his, still hear her whimpers of pleasure as the rain pinged softly on the roof.
The possibility of some police cruiser coming along to catch them made it all the more exciting. Maybe that was why their climaxes had been so cataclysmic.
Sitting there in the booth, Casey felt himself growing aroused just thinking about that night. Damn, he didn’t want this.
He dragged his cell phone out of his back pocket. He hesitated only briefly before, his mind made up, he dialed the number of another FBI agent at the Chicago division of the bureau over on Roosevelt Road. To his satisfaction, Ken Boynton, a trusted buddy, was at his desk and picked up immediately.
“What’s up?” Boynton asked after Casey had identified himself.
“Hey, Kenny, I need a favor. I’d like you to check and tell me if there’s anything on the bureau’s radar about Marcus Bradley.”
“The Marcus Bradley?”
“That’s the one.”
“Jeez, Casey, you don’t ask much. You know the records are classified, and with you on suspension...”
“Who’s going to know if you don’t tell them?”
There was an audible sigh from the other end followed by a reluctant “All right, hold on while I look.”
Casey heard the tapping of keys as Ken called up the files on his computer. He waited patiently until the agent reported back.
“Okay, here it is.”
What Casey listened to wasn’t much, but it was enough. Just enough to convince him, after he thanked Ken and hung up, that he needed a holiday in the sun.
Chapter 1
Brenna gazed out across the bay, frowning at the scene. It wasn’t the narrow, palm-studded spur of land giving her trouble. That she had already managed without difficulty.
As she always did, she’d chosen her subject with care, convinced that, simple though it was, it would make a highly effective painting. The colors were the problem.
Without question, the waters of the Caribbean were the most gorgeous
