Fatal Intent (Fortress Security: Artemis #3)

Chapter One

GRANT BOWEN JOGGED on the asphalt ribbon in the cool predawn morning near Nashville, Tennessee.

He pushed his body into a faster pace, letting the stress of the latest mission fade to the back of his mind.

Too many faces haunted his dreams in the night and drove him to the streets to escape the memories.

His plan? Run until he was too tired to think. Seemed the best way to quiet the voices of those victims he couldn’t save when he’d been a cop and now an operative for Fortress Security.

He shook his head, his mouth curving. He never dreamed after his stint as an Army Ranger that life would take him to a private security company.

No other choice, he mused. His career as a cop imploded when he went undercover with his friends to stop a plot to assassinate the President of the United States.

But instead of being hailed as heroes, their brothers in blue had labeled him and his friends traitors.

Grant pushed himself harder, his feet pounding the pavement to leave the memories in the past where they belonged.

He and his friends made the right choice in joining Fortress Security as a black ops team.

They were excellent at what they did and used their skills to help innocents and track down the guilty.

Best of all? They didn’t have to follow the rule of law.

As he rounded a curve, a rustling in the bushes caught Grant’s attention. He slowed his pace, easing his hand toward the weapon secured at his midback.

Grant listened, gaze scouring the area, moonlight illuminating the treeline and bushes to his right.

Another rustling sound brought Grant to a dead stop.

Seconds later, a young black bear wandered from the bushes and lumbered across the road mere feet from Grant.

He gripped his Sig, praying he didn’t have to pull the trigger. His actions had caused enough bloodshed over the years that the prospect of killing a young black bear shouldn’t cause him discomfort, but it did.

The bear ignored him, continuing across the road to the other side, disappearing into the shadow-drenched woods.

Grant blew out a breath as adrenaline bled off. He turned to resume his journey when he heard a soft moan from the area where he had spotted the bear.

Drawing his weapon once again, Grant approached the bushes, placing his feet carefully to ensure a noiseless approach. Easing his way through the treeline, Grant searched the area. Twenty feet ahead, he spotted a lump on the ground.

The lump moved.

He walked closer. Grant’s breath caught. A woman. Had the bear attacked her?

He dropped to his knees beside her and gently turned the woman onto her back. He froze, staring at the woman’s face. No. This couldn’t be happening.

Grim reality settled on him like a heavy robe. Not only could this be happening, it was. Dread filled Grant as he slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

After taking two pictures for his own records, he stripped off his shirt, pressed on the woman’s bullet wound to the chest with one hand and called 911 with the other.

After giving the dispatcher the details of his location, he did what he knew was necessary.

“Send a police officer as well. Someone shot the woman.”

“An officer will arrive on scene in two minutes. Stay on the line with me, sir.”

Without disconnecting the call, Grant shoved his phone into his pocket.

Knowing he’d be detained by the officer once the cop realized Grant was armed, he set his Sig on the ground a distance away from him.

He grimaced. He wouldn’t see that weapon again for a while, and this particular Sig was a favorite.

As the pool of blood spread, he pressed harder on the bullet wound. If an ambulance didn’t arrive soon, the victim would die. Grant couldn’t bring himself to use her name. Not yet.

What was she doing here? Had she come to see him? If so, where was her vehicle?

The woman moaned again.

“Selena? Can you hear me?”

Another moan. “Hurts,” she whimpered.

“Sorry. I’m trying to stop the bleeding. An ambulance will be here soon.” Grant heard sirens announcing the impending arrival of first responders. “Who shot you, Selena?”

She shook her head. “Where am I?”

He blinked. Of all the questions she could have asked, he didn’t expect that one. How could Selena not know where she was? “You’re in the woods near my house. How did you get here?”

“Don’t remember.”

“Okay. Let’s try this one. Why are you here?” An important question, since he hadn’t seen her for over a year.

“Can’t remember.” Selena’s voice trailed off, and her head lolled to the right.

“Hey.” Grant raised his voice, fear gripping him with firm claws. “Selena, can you hear me?”

Nothing.

“Come on, Sellie. Stay with me.” Ice water flowed through his veins when he realized she was no longer breathing. “Sellie!” Grant began CPR on her, praying EMTs arrived soon.

Three minutes passed before EMTs ran into view. “What do we have?” the older one asked as his partner took over for Grant.

“A 30-year-old victim with a gunshot wound to the chest.” Grant used his forearm to wipe beads of sweat from his forehead. “I found her like this six minutes ago, used compression to stem the bleeding, then had to perform CPR when she stopped breathing.”

“Are you an EMT?”

“Nope. Used to be a cop.”

A police cruiser skidded to a stop at the side of the road, blue and white lights flashing. The officer bailed from the vehicle and jogged toward Grant, Selena, and the EMTs. “What do we have, Keith?” he asked the older EMT.

“Gunshot victim.” Keith inclined his head toward Grant. “He found her and called it in.”

“Did you see the shooter?” the cop asked Grant.

He shook his head. “I heard her moan while I was jogging by here. I found her behind the bush a minute later and called for help.”

The officer scanned the area and spotted Grant’s weapon. “Does that belong to the perp?”

“It’s mine.” Grant kept his hands visible.

“You always run armed with a weapon?”

“I’m always armed, period. I used to be on the job.”

“Ace, we need to take the vic to the hospital. We’ve got a pulse now, but she’s critical.” Keith glanced at Grant. “You know her name?”

Yeah, this was going to be bad. He sighed. “Selena Baker.”

Ace’s hand rested on his weapon. “Take Ms. Baker to the hospital, Keith.”

A minute later, the ambulance left the scene with Selena on board.

“Do you have other weapons on you?” Ace asked as another officer joined him. The second cop had his weapon out and ready.

“A backup piece around my right ankle and a knife in a sheath on my left calf.” Grant hoped one of the Fortress lawyers was available.

From the looks of things, he might need legal representation sooner rather than later.

In fact, he’d be lucky not to wind up in a holding cell before the night ended.

Ace glanced at the other officer. “Watch him.”

“Yes, sir.” The second cop aimed his weapon at Grant.

The senior cop retrieved the rest of Grant’s weapons and handed them to his partner. Ace eyed Grant as he grabbed his handcuffs. “I’m cuffing you for your protection and mine. You’re being detained, not arrested.”

“I know the drill.” Grant allowed Ace to cinch the handcuffs around his wrists

“Let’s go to my cruiser and talk.”

Talk. Another term for interrogate. So much for running from the nightmares. He’d run right into one.

Grant walked between Ace and his junior partner. When they reached Ace’s cruiser, the officer opened the back door and motioned for Grant to slide inside.

“I’d rather answer questions outside the cruiser.”

Ace scowled. “Why?”

“I’m expecting a friend to join me anytime.”

Junior sneered. “We won’t be finished by the time he arrives.”

“Won’t surprise her. She was on the job, too.”

“Got identification on you, sport?”

“Right back pocket.”

“Do you have anything on you that will stick me?”

Grant snorted. “If I did, that would be a stupid place to put it.”

Junior glared.

Really? Some people didn’t have a sense of humor. Grant rolled his eyes. “I have nothing on me except my wallet.”

“Get the wallet,” Ace said, his gaze locked on Grant.

A moment later, Junior gave Grant’s wallet to his superior.

The older cop pulled out Grant’s license and handed it to his partner. “Run it. Let’s see what we can find on Mr. Bowen.”

There wouldn’t be much. The officers were doomed to disappointment. Fortress Security took the safety of employees seriously.

From his left, Grant heard what he’d been listening for the past few minutes. Light footsteps running closer by the second. He straightened away from the cruiser and turned slightly to watch for his friend’s approach and keep the officers in his peripheral vision.

Junior stiffened and pulled his weapon.

“Hey,” Bowen snapped. “That’s my friend.”

“How do you know?”

“I recognize her running pattern.” He’d learned everything possible about Rayne Weatherly.

Seconds later, Rayne jogged around the curve, slowing to a walk as she moved closer to the cruisers and the officers. “Grant?”

“Right here, babe.” He shifted to stand a half-step in front of the officers.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why are you in handcuffs?”

Ace stepped to Grant’s side and, with his hand on his weapon, said, “Do you have some identification, honey?”

Grant scowled. “Hey, show some respect.”

The older cop ignored him. His gaze remained fixed on Rayne.

Rayne showed her empty hands. “My identification is in my right back pocket.”

No way was Grant allowing Junior to slip his hand into Rayne’s pocket. The kid might be a good cop, but Grant didn’t trust him around Rayne. “You’re not touching her,” he said, voice soft.

Junior scowled as Ace held up his hand. “Hold up, Crabtree. Get your identification, ma’am. Slowly, please.”

Rayne gave a slight nod. “I’m going to turn so you can see my hand.”

“Go ahead.”

Grant watched both officers as Rayne moved her hand to her pocket and withdrew her identification with two fingers. She handed the card to Ace.

“Are you armed, Ms. Weatherly?”

“Yes. A pistol and two knives.”

The officers stared. Ace glanced at his partner. “Run her after she lays her weapons on the ground.”

“Yes, sir.” Junior leveled his weapon at Rayne.

“Point that muzzle somewhere else, please,” Rayne said. “I’d prefer not to be shot because you’re twitchy.”

“Can we get on with this, Ms. Weatherly?” Ace motioned for Rayne to remove her weapons. “The sooner you cooperate, the faster my partner will holster his weapon.”

She glanced at Grant, who gave her a slight nod. Yeah, he’d monitor the officers.

Rayne removed her weapons and set them on the ground. With her hands partially raised, she joined Grant near the cruiser.

After Crabtree returned to his cruiser with their identification, Ace looked from Rayne to Grant and back again. “How do you two know each other?”

Rayne’s eyebrow rose. “We work together.”

“Where are you employed?”

“Fortress Security,” Grant said.

Ace stiffened. “Are you office staff or something else?”

He smiled. “We’re assigned to black ops teams.”

“How long have you worked for Maddox?”

So, Ace at least knew of Brent Maddox, the CEO and founder of Fortress Security. “A few months.”

Crabtree returned, a blank expression on his face.

Rayne inched closer to Grant.

“It’s okay,” he murmured.

She gave him The Look, the one that said Grant was an idiot if he thought he wasn’t heading for trouble. Rayne was right. Didn’t mean he couldn’t hope for the best.

“Well?” Ace asked his partner.

“Couldn’t find anything on them.”

The older cop stared at Grant and Rayne, speculation in his eyes. “Why can’t we find anything, Mr. Bowen?”

“First, the military has my file locked down. I was Special Forces. My missions are classified. Second, Fortress would be a terrible security company if they didn’t protect their employees.”

“Special Forces, huh? Which branch of the military were you in and what was your specialty?”

“I was an Army Ranger for ten years.”

“Your specialty?” Crabtree asked.

“EOD.”

The junior officer whistled. “Were you any good?”

Grant gave a bark of laughter. “The military trained me well. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.”

Ace glanced at Rayne. “What about you, Ms. Weatherly?”

“Chicago PD. No military service.”

He sighed. “Do you know how unusual it is to find absolutely nothing on background checks of suspects?”

Surprise. Not. Grant leaned back against the cruiser. “I wouldn’t have been a fan myself when I wore a badge.”

“So you understand my dilemma.”

“Sure. You want to know if there’s something in our past to connect us to the vic.”

Ace inclined his head. “Is there?”

“Rayne has nothing to do with this situation.” Except having the misfortune of being his running partner. Man, when would he learn to leave well enough alone? “I knew Selena a lifetime ago. We dated for a few months.”

Beside him, Rayne stirred. He’d surprised her.

Grant’s face burned. He hated to admit what a huge mistake he’d made by dating Selena.

Despite telling Grant she loved him, Selena had been seeing another man behind his back, the same man she was supposed to marry a few months ago.

He hadn’t seen a wedding ring on Selena’s finger.

Did something happen that caused her to break off the engagement? If so, why would she come here?

“Did you and Ms. Baker part on good terms?” Ace asked.

Grant shook his head, knowing how this would sound. He prepared himself for a long stay in the interrogation room. So much for his plan to coax Rayne into a date later today. Hopefully, he’d convince her to go out with him one day soon.

“Don’t keep us in suspense, Bowen. Why did you and the vic break up?”

“She cheated on me with a former friend.”

“And you didn’t like that.”

“Would you?”

Ace sneered. “This isn’t about me.”

“Sir?”

The older cop turned to his partner. “What is it, kid?”

Crabtree showed his cell phone screen to Ace.

Grant went on alert the second the older cop’s expression went blank. That look meant trouble.

The lead officer glanced at Grant, his expression grim. “Selena Baker just died.”