Chapter 7 #2
“My contact informed me that my daughter had been kidnapped and taken to the airport in Bozeman.”
“Two men jumped me,” Breely, her voice muffled, called out from the other side of the bathroom door. “Moe, the guy you’re trying to arrest, saved me.”
Brantt’s glance never strayed from Moe, distrust evident in the snarl on his lip.
Moe couldn’t blame the man. He’d received conflicting information, pulled out all the stops to trace them to Denver, and probably flew down in a private jet only to find his daughter with the kidnapper, naked. Yeah, he could understand Brantt’s anger and distrust.
If Breely were his daughter, Moe would have jumped to the same conclusions and might have taken matters into his own hands and decked the naked man, presumably raping his daughter.
Moe nodded toward the T-shirt lying in a wad on top of the dresser. “Do you mind?”
The closest officer grabbed the T-shirt, felt it for weapons and flung it at Moe.
Moe pulled it over his head and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans.
Better. At least he wasn’t clutching a towel over his dick, stoking the rage in Breely’s father.
“I’m still not convinced you weren’t in on the attempted kidnapping. You could have staged it all to earn my daughter’s trust.”
“He’s not the bad guy.” Breely flung open the door, dressed in the T-shirt and jean skirt with her wet hair neatly brushed straight. “Daddy, this is Morris Cleveland. Moe, to his friends. He’s prior military, a war hero.”
“War heroes can have mental issues,” her father pointed out.
Breely planted her fists on her hips and pressed her lips together in a tight line. “Have your informants or fact checkers look him up. He’s a legit good guy.”
Moe’s lips twitched at Breely’s defense of him. She didn’t have to. But she was fierce and didn’t back down from the formidable Robert Brantt.
Finally, the older Brantt shifted his watchful gaze from Moe to his daughter. “Then why did he fly you to Denver if he didn’t have ulterior motives for you?”
“He was in Bozeman, waiting to fly a medical mission to Denver.”
Her father crossed his arms over his chest. “Medical mission?”
“Organs harvested from a crash victim in the Bozeman area had to be flown to Denver. The ambulance met us at the airport,” Moe explained.
“It’s all documented.” Breely waved a hand. “Please, have your spies check it out. And next time, don’t accuse someone of kidnapping until you get your facts straight.”
“So, Mr. Cleveland had a reason to be in Denver. That’s no reason for him to take you and set off a manhunt.”
“Whomever your informant is, he needs to get his story straight before he sets off the alarms.” She stared at her father, her brows forming a V. “I should’ve known you’d have someone watching me.”
“Obviously,” her father said, unapologetic. “You still haven’t explained why Mr. Cleveland forced you to fly with him to Denver.”
“I didn’t force her to come with me,” Moe said. “I highly suggested she come since I had to leave immediately, and she wasn’t safe to stay by herself.”
Breely lifted her chin. “My apartment had been broken into. Everything in it was trashed and the tires on my car slashed. I had nowhere else to go. So, I chose to accompany Moe on his mission to ferry organs to transplant patients.”
Brantt had nothing to say about Moe’s mission.
“Are you satisfied that Moe didn’t kidnap me?” Breely asked.
Her father snorted. “His story makes a little sense. I still don’t trust him.”
Breely turned to the officers who’d witnessed their family squabble.
“As you can see, there’s no one to arrest. No kidnapping took place, thanks to Mr. Cleveland.
You’re not needed here after all.” She gave them an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry we’ve wasted your time. Thank you for your service and prompt response. ”
The Denver police officers started for the door.
“I didn’t say they could go,” Brantt’s deep voice cut the air like a knife.
The two policemen stopped.
“Uh, sir, the young lady said she wasn’t kidnapped,” one of the men in uniform said. “We can’t arrest this man if he hasn’t committed a crime.”
“How do we know she’s not under duress?” Brantt asked. “He could have threatened to kill her or someone she cares about if she tells the truth.”
“Daddy,” Breely shook her head, “don’t continue to make this difficult. These men have real jobs to do other than catering to you and your unfounded claims.” She tipped her head toward the door. “Go. There’s nothing here for you to see.”
The police officers’ gazes went to the older Brantt.
Breely’s father’s mouth pinched. For a moment, Moe thought he’d say something biting. Eventually, he jerked his head toward the exit. “You can go.”
The lawmen hurried through the door before Brantt could change his mind.
Out in the hallway stood a man dressed in hotel livery and two hulking men, wearing black suits and dark sunglasses, that Moe guessed were Brantt’s bodyguards.
The hotel staff member had to have been the one to let Brantt into the room. Moe would have a chat with the man after the dust settled.
The door closed on the three in the hallway, leaving Brantt, Moe and Breely alone in the room.
“How long have you known this man?” her father asked.
Breely and Moe exchanged a glance.
“I met Moe yesterday,” Breely admitted.
“Then why the hell are you in the same hotel room with this man and…and…” Her father waved a hand toward the bathroom.
Breely cocked an eyebrow. “Naked?”
The elder Brantt’s cheeks flushed a ruddy red. “You don’t know this man. I don’t understand.”
“Daddy,” she said, “I’m not your baby girl anymore. I’m a full-grown adult. I get to choose how, where I live and who I sleep with. Moe doesn’t work for you. You can’t make him disappear.”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” her father said in a low, dangerous tone.
“Stop pretending you’re God and that you can call all the shots.” She sighed and touched her father’s arm. “I know you and Mama want to keep me safe for the rest of my life, but I can’t live the way I did. I felt like I was in prison and hadn’t actually gotten to live.”
Her father covered her hand on his arm. “I knew you weren’t happy. That’s why I let you leave.”
Her lips curled in that sassy way which made Moe want to pull her into his arms and kiss her long and hard. She was beautiful, feisty and petite, the kind of woman a man wanted to protect.
And she hated being smothered and coddled.
She looked up at her father, frowning her disappointment. “You let me leave and yet sent a spy to keep an eye on me?”
He shook his head. “I sent a bodyguard. He was supposed to stay far enough away not to interfere with your independence, yet close enough to help if you got in a bad situation.”
“I’m sorry to say not only is your bodyguard feeding you misinformation he was nowhere around when I was attacked.” Breely hooked her arm through Moe’s elbow. “This man single-handedly fought off the two attackers and rescued me.”
Her father pushed a hand through his shock of white hair. “The attack in Bozeman is a prime example of why you’re not safe off the ranch.”
“I’m not going back except for the occasional visit. There’s a whole wide world out here. I don’t want to miss any of it.”
Robert Brantt took his daughter’s hands in his. “It’s not safe for you to go galivanting around the countryside alone. That would be a surefire way of making you the target of every opportunist intent on using you as a bargaining chip to get to me.”
“I know,” she said. “I’d still rather take my chances. I can’t live on the ranch anymore. I have to make my own way in the world, like anyone else.”
“But you’re not anyone else. You’re the daughter of one of the richest men in the world. Short of giving away my entire fortune and living in a modest two-bedroom house in some city suburbs, there’s not much I can do other than provide you with a bodyguard, twenty-four-seven.”
“I don’t want your money, Daddy. I need to learn how to live on my own and pay my own way.”
“Okay. But you need round-the-clock protection. I have a man with me who can do the job. He’s prepared to go where you go.”
Before her father finished talking, Breely was shaking her head. “No. I don’t want your bodyguard.”
“You can’t get around without one,” her father said.
Moe studied Breely’s stubborn face. “Sir,” Moe cut in.
“What?” Brantt responded impatiently.
“I work for a company that provides protection. Since you’re from Montana, you might have heard about it—Hank Patterson’s Brotherhood Protectors?”
Brantt’s brow wrinkled. “Yes. I have heard of Hank Patterson and the company he based out of his wife’s ranch a few years ago.
I’ve heard nothing but good things about what his team has accomplished.
In fact, he was going to be my next call.
I’d like him to beef up our security system and see if he can find someone I approve of to protect Breely. ”
“Breely already has protection,” Moe spoke clearly, daring the elder Brantt to push back.
“Oh yeah?” Brantt tipped his head to one side. “Who?”
Moe bit down hard on his tongue to keep from spewing sarcasm at Breely’s father. “I will provide the protection she needs. If I require additional assistance, the other members of my team can be called in.”
Brantt met and held Moe’s gaze. “You really work for Hank Patterson?”
Moe nodded. “I work out of the West Yellowstone branch of the Brotherhood, which would also be a good place to take your daughter. The town is small. People look out for each other. We’d stay at the West Yellowstone Lodge, surrounded by more members of the team.”
“So, you wouldn’t go back to Bozeman?” Mr. Brantt asked.
“Only initially to gather what we can salvage of Breely’s things.”
“Excuse me.” Breely stepped forward. “Do I have a say in what happens to me?”
“No,” Moe and Brantt spoke as one and laughed.
“Not funny,” Breely said. “I have a job in Bozeman. That job gave me the means to be self-reliant. I refuse to be dependent on anyone else ever again.”