Lara hated putting on dirty clothing, but she figured she could change when she got back to the resort. Her clothing in place, she adjusted her concealed Glock 23 at her back and lowered her sweater over the top.
“What are you doing?” Tate wandered into the bedroom.
“I’m getting ready to go back to the resort,” she told him in a clipped tone, still pissed off at him because he hadn’t stopped laughing since she revealed that she was investigating Marcus. She guessed he’d recovered, because he wasn’t laughing now. She’d finally stomped out of the kitchen when he’d been laughing nonstop for five freaking minutes.
“So you can investigate an innocent man?” Tate’s voice still held a hint of humor.
She turned around and crossed her arms in front of her. “I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I’m armed. Don’t screw with me, Colter.”
“Damn, you’re hot when you’re pissed off.” He shot her an amorous look.
“Don’t even think about it.” She held out her arm as he advanced, walked around him and stomped back into the kitchen. She felt his presence behind her. “I have a job to do, and I don’t appreciate you making fun of what I do.”
“Hey.” He caught her arm in the kitchen and swung her around. “I’m not making fun of what you do. You have an important and dangerous job, and you’re obviously good at it. But you’re hunting the wrong guy.”
“The wrong guy who has been bringing in enough explosives to blow up an entire state? The wrong guy who has been dealing with known terrorists? The wrong guy who is storing weapons of mass destruction somewhere on this acreage in Rocky Springs? You mean that wrong guy?” she asked furiously.
Tate gaped at her. “That’s not possible. Marcus is a straight arrow, Lara, and as ethical as they come. I’d tell you if I thought differently, but he doesn’t have it in him to do that, and you already know what happened to my dad. Marcus loved him, and he suffered the most when Dad died because he was the eldest and the closest to our father. Christ! The last thing Marcus would do would be seen anywhere near a damn terrorist, much less be part of a plot to blow up innocent people.”
Lara’s heart sank. How could she convince a man who loved his brother that his sibling was really a terrorist disguised as a businessman? “We have proof, Tate. I wouldn’t be here if we didn’t. The FBI isn’t going to waste money on an investigation without just cause. I’m sorry.”
“Show me your proof. I’ll help you. Where is this supposed stash?” Tate asked impatiently.
“That we don’t know. That’s why I’m here,” Lara admitted. “All we know is that Marcus has been buying enough explosives to blow up a very large area and transporting it here. He’s been seen with known terrorists. The members of this group are pretty powerful, wealthy, and well disguised as businessmen. Most of them live here in the US right now, Middle Eastern emigrants.”
“Marcus would want to kill every one of them if he knew they were members of a terrorist group.” Tate paced the kitchen. “He doesn’t have the storage for that kind of equipment at his house.”
“He built an airstrip in the summer—”
“So we could all land our jets here instead of in Denver. We all wanted it.”
“He also built a new hangar.”
“His other one is smaller and it was getting old. He has a brand new jet. But I’ll take you to the airstrip to check it out if it will satisfy you that he’s innocent. In the meantime, I’d like to hear about all of your supposed evidence against Marcus,” Tate demanded. He turned his intense gaze on her.#p#分页标题#e#
Lara looked into his eyes, trying to read his intentions. He could be a huge help or a hindrance.
“You either trust me or you don’t, baby. Make the choice,” Tate growled.
“Done. I have the files on my laptop at the resort.” She’d made her decision. Her gut trusted Tate. Even if Marcus was his brother, he wasn’t going to allow him to kill innocent people. He’d spent years of his life trying to stop that very thing from happening.
“We’ll check out the hangars and the airstrip first. I need five minutes to take a shower and change.”
“I’ll make some breakfast,” Lara agreed. “We have to eat.” The investigation had taken this long; it could wait another hour.
“Lara?” Tate called her name as she headed for the kitchen.
“Yeah?” She turned back to him.
“I’d trust Marcus with my life. We’re going to find out this is all one big misunderstanding,” he told her huskily.