"You know I wouldn't ordinarily be asking you to do this,
but..."
Lt. Collin Jamison heard his cousin's voice awkwardly
trail off on the other end of the line. Collin's lips
curved slightly in an understanding smile. That had always
been his gift, for as far back as he could remember.
Understanding. Although it took no special gift to know
where Emmett was coming from.
His cousin had trouble asking people for favors, even from
someone he'd once been close to, the way they once had
been.
Granted it was a hell of a favor to ask. But at least,
since he'd sought him out like this, it meant that Emmett
had decided to come back to join the living. That alone
would have had Collin saying yes, no matter what the
obstacles.
It wasn't easy for Collin to arrange free time. When you
worked as an Army Ranger for CIA Special Operations,
specializing in manhunts and intelligence gathering, it
wasn't exactly as if you were just another easily
replaceable cog.
But he had a lot of time coming to him, time he'd never
bothered using because there hadn't been anything else
he'd rather be doing than his job.
Things could be managed, Collin thought. Things could
always be managed.
Collin shifted the receiver to his other ear. He'd barely
walked into the small, two-bedroom condo he owned right
outside of Langley, Virginia, when the phone had rung,
demanding his attention. He'd thought it was a call to
come in for a new assignment.
In a way, he supposed it was.
Exchanging quick, perfunctory pleasantries for less than
two minutes, Emmett had swiftly filled him in as to why
he'd called. Even when they were young, Emmett had never
believed in wasting time. Neither did he. That was why
they got along so well.
"Yeah, I know," Collin said in response to his cousin's
awkward pause. "I've got to admit, it's a hell of a
surprise, hearing from you. Uncle Blake said that you had
gone off somewhere into the mountains in New Mexico to be
by yourself." He recalled the conversation in its
entirety. Blake Jamison had been sincerely worried about
his youngest son, not knowing if Emmett was going to
permanently withdraw from life, or if he just needed time
to come to terms with the things he'd witnessed during the
course of his work as an FBI special agent.
"I did."
He heard Emmett sigh quietly on the other end, as if a
part of him still wanted to be back there, hidden in the
mountains, away from the world. Collin knew how that could
be. There were times when he'd thought seriously about
just saying the hell with everything and retreating
himself. That usually lasted until the next interesting
case came along to challenge him. He was no good with free
time. Free time made you think.
"I needed some peace and quiet," Emmett was saying. As
always, his cousin was given to understatement.
For a while there Collin had worried about Emmett's
sanity. Everyone thought about running away, but very few
ever did it. Those who did generally invited speculation
about the state of their mental health.
But now that Emmett was back, Collin breathed a little
easier. "Couldn't find any, huh?" he joked.
His uncle Blake had told Collin that when Emmett's older
brother, Christopher, had turned up murdered, it just
intensified Emmett's desire to stay away from the world.
It was only after his father had made the pilgrimage to
his shack to tell him that Christopher had been killed by
Jason, the brother both he and Christopher had watched
descend into madness, that Emmett had snapped out of his
depression and left his self-imposed exile to battle
the "bad guys" again. This time, the bad guy was his older
brother.
"No, it's not that," Emmett responded wearily to his
cousin's joke. "The world just won't let me alone." He
took a deep breath and reiterated his initial plea. "I
need your help in finding Jason."
Collin didn't bother saying the obvious, that Emmett had
greater resources than him to employ. Or the more obvious,
that the FBI was never thrilled having someone from the
CIA nosing around. He said, instead, what they both knew
to be true.
"Jason's sick, Emmett. He has been for a long time now."
Jason had been different as a boy, given to hero-
worshiping their grandfather to the point that it became a
near obsession. All of Farley Jamison's past history
became Jason's by proxy, to cherish and, more importantly,
to vindicate.
"No," Emmett contradicted, his voice harsh. "He's evil.
You know that."
Yes, Collin thought, he supposed he did. Accustomed as he
was to the ugly underbelly of the world, he still found it
hard to pin that label on someone whose blood ran through
his own veins.
Pausing, Collin tried to guess at Emmett's reasons for
what he was doing. The brothers had never been
particularly close, even as children.
"You afraid the FBI'll kill Jason if they find him?"
Emmett's voice was steely as he replied, "No, I'm afraid
he'll wind up killing someone else. He's my flesh and
blood and I don't want that on my conscience."
Emmett always had enough conscience for three people,
Collin thought. For a man who was only thirty-one, he
acted as if he'd been born old. "You're not your brother's
keeper, Emmett."
There was another long pause on the other end of the line.
Collin wondered if he'd insulted Emmett. After all, he
hadn't seen or spoken to him for a while now and people
had a habit of changing.
Everyone but him, he mused. "Maybe not," Emmett finally
said, "but I'm an FBI agent. What I'm supposed to do is
keep the public safe from maniacs like Jason. Frankly, I'm
afraid that he'll surface somewhere and kill Ryan Fortune
before I get a chance to take him down."
Collin was vaguely familiar with Fortune, mainly from
newspaper articles. The billionaire rancher was the
epitome of generosity, giving to so many charities that
the public had lost count. Collin was also aware that
there was some sort of a family connection, but he had his
own world, his own concerns. The Fortunes were a world
apart from him.
"Ryan Fortune? Why?"
In the background, he thought he heard someone call
out, "Room Service." Emmett responded with a crisp,
"Later," before continuing and telling him what he'd
pieced together. "Because Grandpa's stories turned Jason's
mind to the state of an overripe, rotting apple. Because
Grandpa blamed the Fortunes for turning him into a pauper
and making him live out the rest of his life in that
state. Grandpa needed a scapegoat for his problems and an
audience to hear about it. Jason adored him and now he
thinks he's bringing some kind of divine justice into play.
"I know him, Collin. Jason's crazy enough and evil enough
to try something desperate. I mean, if he killed
Christopher because for some reason Christopher got in the
way of his big 'plans,' then β"
Collin was quick to stop him. He needed confirmation. "Is
that what happened?"
A rare fondness slipped into Emmett's voice. "You know
Christopher. He's always β" Emmett stopped; Collin could
almost feel the other man's physical pain as he corrected
himself " β was always bent on bringing out the best in
everyone. He knew Jason was obsessed with avenging Grandpa
and followed him down here to Red Rock to talk him out of
whatever it was he was planning." All feeling drained out
of his voice. "But nobody messes with Jason. At least,
that's what Jason believes."
Even as a small boy, Collin remembered, Jason had always
been headstrong, always needed to be center stage, or else
he was given to destroying the stage.
"So he killed Christopher." Even though Jason had been
arrested and charged with the crime, with most people
believing he was guilty, it was still something that
Collin found difficult to say.
"And that girl who was posing as his wife," Emmett
interjected. "And that guard who was transporting him to
another prison."
And who knew how many others who hadn't come to light,
Collin couldn't help thinking.
"Human life means nothing to him," Emmett said with utter
disgust. "And a second transport guard is just barely
hanging on."
"Maybe he can tell you something β" Collin began. Emmett
cut him off. Not because he felt angry or impatient,
Collin knew, but because it was the way he was. Clipped
and to the point.
Collin knew that was his cousin's way of keeping
everything at bay except for the facts. Emmett was not
about to allow his emotions to suck him down to the depths
he'd already been pulled to once.
He couldn't survive a second trip down that far. "The
guard's in a coma."
"Oh." That rather curtailed his ability to talk to the
man, Collin thought. "So what exactly do you want from me?"
"I need you to do what you do best," Emmett told him. "You
can get into the mind of a criminal, find him, second
guess his next move."
The words were flattering, but not without foundation.
Still, he did that with strangers, getting into their
heads, under their skins. But in this case Emmett had an
advantage over him. "He's your brother, shouldn't you be
the one who's able to β"
Again Emmett cut him short. "Jason's been a mystery to me
from day one. Christopher was the brother I always
admired, not Jason." Collin could hear the pain in his
cousin's voice. "Jason was always evil, always out for
just Jason."
With one notable exception, Collin thought. "Except in the
way he felt about your grandfather."
"I think he saw Grandpa as an extension of himself."
Emmett made his final entreaty. "This is family business,
Collin. I need someone on my side."
It was clear to Collin that even though his cousin was
part of the FBI himself, the organization saw them as
intruders in this case.
The request was something new for Emmett. Collin knew that
his cousin was accustomed to working alone. So much so
that the Bureau did not view him as a team player. But
Emmett was very good at what he did, which made him a
valuable asset to the FBI. Valuable assets were allowed
some leeway. So when Emmett had put in for an extended
leave of absence, saying he'd needed time to pull himself
together, Collin knew the objections had been few. The
Bureau did not want to risk having a stressed-out agent
amid their number.
For a while there Collin had thought that his cousin's
withdrawal from the world was destined to be a permanent
one. And maybe it would have become that eventually, if
family honor and Emmett's own sense of pride hadn't joined
together to pull him out of the tailspin he'd found
himself in.
Leaning back, Collin put his feet on his coffee table and
formed the only conclusion he could from Emmett's tone. "I
take it our end of the investigation is going to be
unofficial."
Even if it hadn't been his choice, it would have had to be
this way. "You know the Bureau frowns on their operatives
handling anything that remotely involves their personal
lives."
The army was the same way. He was going to have to request
a leave of absence, Collin thought.
He laughed softly to himself, relishing the image. "So as
far as the local law-enforcement officers are concerned,
we're going to be just two pains in the butt for them."
As always, Emmett put a serious interpretation on the
words. "Let me worry about the local law-enforcement
officers."
Swinging his legs off the table, Collin shifted to the
edge of the sofa, his attention focused on the nature of
Emmett's words. "You are planning on checking in with
them." He wanted to know.
Emmett was honest with him. Collin knew Emmett could never
be anything less than that. "As little as possible and
only when necessary. You know that every agency thinks
they're supreme."
Collin grinned and laughed again, unable to help
himself. "When we all know that it's only true as far as
the FBI is concerned."
The easy give-and-take they'd always enjoyed as boys and
then young men was still held somewhat in abeyance.
Invoking the memories, he might feel comfortable around
Emmett, but there was no sign that Emmett reciprocated the
feeling. He seemed to be nothing but all business and as
rigid as an iron bar.
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