Divine Intervention (27 page)

Jasi remembered her vision.

The killer had crossed off a name…the
middle
name.

Martin Gibney
was
next.

"We have to stop her, Brandon." She scurried toward the dresser and started to remove her robe before realizing that he still watched her.

Flicking her head, she ordered him to turn away.

"You sure?" he asked with a devilish smile.

Annoyed, she waited impatiently with her hands on her hips. As soon as he turned around, Jasi peeled off the robe and stripped naked. Then she slipped into fresh panties and a pair of jeans.

"Have you warned him?" she asked.

"I, uh, called his house," Brandon stammered, still facing the balcony.

Bending over to reach into a drawer for a clean t-shirt, she heard a sharp hissing sound. She spun around, holding the t-shirt tightly in front of her, and eyed him suspiciously.

Brandon stood motionless, his back still turned to her. Her eyes were drawn to his well-defined arms and the tight black jeans. She sucked in a breath and her heart skipped a beat. There was something about Brandon Walsh that was just so damned sexy.

This is insane, she thought, mentally slapping herself.

"Give me another minute!" she blurted.

Brandon cleared his throat nervously.

Realizing that he could turn around any moment, Jasi quickly fastened her bra and slipped into the t-shirt. Over it, she strapped on a lightweight Kevlar vest. It was black with fluorescent orange letters stenciled across the front and back.
CFBI
.

"Okay, you can turn around now."

Brandon hesitantly faced her, watching her every move.

There was admiration in his eyes…and something else.

Desire.

"D-did you talk to Gibney?" she stuttered.

He nodded. "His wife answered the phone. She said Allan Baker called an hour ago and asked to speak to him."

"And?" she prompted anxiously.

"
And
…about ten minutes ago, Gibney took off. To meet Baker. His wife has no idea where he went, or why. But Lydia did say one thing."

"What?"

"She said Allan Baker didn't sound like himself. He was impersonal, distant. She thinks he sounded scared."

Jasi locked onto Brandon's pale blue eyes. "I think Cameron wants to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. She's after Baker too."

"You think she's jealous of him?" he asked her.

"Cameron interviewed Baker on many occasions. She knows that he would never be a loving half-brother. He's too much like his father. Maybe she holds him responsible. After all, Baker has the life she deserved. And Gibney helped take it from her."

"And now she has them both," Brandon murmured.

Jasi cursed. Where would Cameron take Baker and Gibney at this time of night?

She caught sight of the moonlit sky through the glass door, and she gasped. Moving purposefully toward the balcony, she stopped dead in her tracks. With the two lamps casting a golden light across the room behind her, she could see Brandon's reflection in the glass of the door―perfectly. In fact, she could see everything.

Everything!

Mortified, she whirled around, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. She gaped at him, indignant and pissed off at his brashness.

At least he had the decency to look guilty. He reminded Jasi of a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

But damn it, these were her cookies!

"Nice view, Walsh?" she sneered, her eyes narrowing.

"Very nice," he quipped smoothly.

Ignoring him, she grabbed her data-com from the nightstand and activated it. "License plate search, Martin Gibney, 103 Dremner Boulevard, Kelowna."

When a list of Gibney's license plates showed up on the monitor, she noticed one was in motion. "GPS search, license 1DOC739."

The green light on the monitor flickered while the satellite circuits busily navigated through the city. A few seconds later the GPS locked on its target.

"He's heading north on Highway 97," she stated.

"Loon Lake is up there."

She groaned. "So is Washburn's cabin. Or what's left of it. Did you try Baker or Gibney on their cell phones?"

"Yeah, they're not answering. If we hurry, we might be able to catch up to Gibney. He's only got maybe fifteen on us."

She leaned over, grabbed her hair and pulled it into a ponytail. Securing it with a black elastic band, she said, "Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll have to stop for gas."

"Maybe he'll run out of gas," Brandon replied wryly. "That would be lucky for him."

Jasi strode over to the closet, then strapped on a shoulder harness for her gun. Then she pulled a short black jacket over top, zipped it halfway and tucked her data-com into a pocket.

"Why do you think Ben isn't answering his 'com?" she mused.

Brandon eyed her candidly, then flicked his head toward Natassia's bed.

"Oh," Jasi blushed, tucking the Beretta into her holster.

When she looked up again, his eyes pulsed with worry.

"I never realized you carried a weapon," he admitted.

She shrugged. "There's a lot about me you don't know."

Ignoring Brandon's wicked grin and leering eyes, Jasi let out an indignant hiss. "I'm a CFBI agent, for Christ's sake! I can work other cases―not just arsons. As a PSI, I don't just read fires and let someone else bring the bastards in. I bring in my own."

He grinned slyly. "So you always get your man?"

She resented his attitude and scowled. "Almost always."

There was a moment of silence, and then she opened the door. "Come on! Let's get Natassia and Ben."

Crossing the hallway, she rapped loudly on Ben's room. No answer. Brandon nudged her aside and began pounding on the door, hollering Ben's name.

Suddenly a bald, sweaty man in a dirty tank top poked his head out from a room across the hall. "Hey! Shut the hell up!" The man's eyes were inflamed―bloodshot.

Jasi mumbled an apology, barely looking at him.

"She's CFBI," Brandon explained with a flick of his head in Jasi's direction.

The man took an unsteady step forward, jabbing a beefy finger threateningly in the air. "I don't give a shit
who
she―"

He broke off, then stammered, "CFBI, d-did you s-say?"

Jasi growled when she recognized Albert Hawkins, the manager of Kel-Cabs. When she marched toward him, Hawkins swore and slammed the door.

Brandon flicked his head. "Maybe I should―"

"Come on, Walsh," she ordered, intercepting him. "We don't have time for him now. I have to go back to my room, pick up a few things."

Long strides took her back to her hotel room. She wrenched the closet door open, reached inside and seized a black tote bag. Opening it, she yanked out two extra clips for the Beretta, dropping them into a pocket on the front of her jacket. Then she grabbed two mini-cans of
OxyBlast
and her nosepiece.

"I never know what I'll need," she explained when she caught him studying her. "We definitely need a ride though."

Brandon grinned. "A rental is waiting downstairs for us."

She flashed him a surprised look. "Hmmm, a man who thinks ahead." She glanced at her watch. "Shit! It's after midnight. Where the hell are Ben and Natassia? And why aren't they answering their 'coms?"

"What do you want to do?" Brandon asked hesitantly.

Frustrated, she chewed her bottom lip. "I have no idea how long they'll be. We have to get to Gibney and Baker―before Cameron does."

Stepping out into the hallway, they made their way toward the elevator. Inside, Jasi recorded messages for both Ben and Natassia. She wanted to contact Divine, maybe have him pick up the arrest warrant for Cameron Prescott. But then she'd have to explain how two of his best agents were currently unavailable.

Glancing at Brandon, Jasi was relieved. He may not be a gun-toting CFBI agent, but he was strong and intelligent. He also knew arsonists.

Five minutes later, they were seated in a spacious Infiniti FX75 SUV.

"When you said
rental
I was thinking more along the lines of a nice little compact," Jasi complained as they screeched out of the hotel parking lot.

"Bigger is better," he winked, then grinned.

Clenching her hands in her lap, Jasi stared straight ahead, determined to ignore his innuendo. Her imagination, however, had other plans.

"Jesus, Walsh!" she snapped. "I'd like to get there in one piece, thank you."

Brandon laughed lightly as he wove the silver SUV in and out of traffic. "Relax, Jasi. I know what I'm doing."

It wasn't so much what he was doing that had her all hot and bothered. It was what the man was
capable
of doing. Being in close confinement with him made her palms sweat. Watching his strong hands shifting gears with ease brought dangerous thoughts to her mind.

Gripping the door handle tightly, her heart stopped beating when they took an off-ramp and headed for the highway. Somewhere between the vans and trucks loaded with camping gear, she felt the familiar pitter-patter of her heartbeat, kicking itself into high gear. While they dodged through unusually heavy traffic, she wondered whether everyone in Kelowna was escaping something.

Maybe they knew something she didn't.

Jasi pressed the glow-light on her watch. They were making good time. Perhaps there was a chance that they would catch Gibney after all―before he made it to Washburn's property.

Peeking from beneath her lashes, she examined Brandon's profile. Part of her was desperate to take the plunge, dive right into a relationship with him. But the controlled agent in her told her it wouldn't work out. Long distance relationships never did.

Neither did relationships for a Pyro-Psychic.

At least not
this
Pyro-Psychic, she thought resentfully.

Fully alert and running on adrenaline, Jasi thought of Cameron Prescott. Child abuse left scars and often they were permanent. But some scars were below the surface, invisible to the human eye.

Jasi thought Cameron had been lucky. The reporter had escaped while her twin brother had been forced to endure more abuse, until he died. But perhaps Ronald Jones' death hadn't been accidental. For all anyone knew, Charlotte Foreman could have murdered him. Maybe she had gone too far.

Leaning her elbow against the window, Jasi rested her chin in her hand and watched the passing shadows. The headlights of the SUV bounced off the green board of a highway sign. Loon Lake was about twenty minutes away.

"There's no sign of Gibney's vehicle," she murmured uneasily.

"We're almost there," Brandon promised.

A few seconds later, he swore and the SUV lurched. In front of them, a line of twenty or so vehicles sat stationary. A chemical truck slanted sideways across the middle of the road. Nearing the truck, Jasi could see that one of its back tires had blown. Thankfully, it had not rolled over or spilled its load.

"Damn it!" she swore. "We've got to get through!"

Brandon's eyes drifted to hers. Then he winked. Shifting gears, he hauled on the steering wheel and the car slid precariously close to the right shoulder.

"Jesus, Walsh!" she shrieked, fisting her seat belt with both hands.

"Hold on," he grinned.

The SUV dipped, sending Jasi crashing into the door. Gripping the left side of the seat, she held on while her right hand white-knuckled the door handle.

"Sorry," he apologized contritely.

Sucking in a gasp, she examined the vehicles they passed while Brandon carefully navigated between stressed out travelers. One man, probably in his eighties, flipped them
the bird
. Jasi leaned across Brandon and flashed her badge at the old guy. The man's hand disappeared in a flash.

"We're gonna make it, Jasi."

They had made it by the tenth car―the halfway mark.

Brandon thumped on the horn when someone veered out too far on the right. A rusty station wagon rattled out of the way and they gathered speed as they passed the chemical truck.

When they finally cleared the stalled traffic, Jasi checked her watch again. It was after one in the morning. They had lost some time. Martin Gibney had been on his own for over forty-five minutes. Not alone, she reminded herself. Cameron and Baker would be there too. She was sure of it. Baker had probably been forced to call from the cabin.

"We have to hurry, Brandon," she urged. "I have a very bad feeling."

Brandon cranked the wheel and headed east on Beaver Lake Road, following it past Doreen Lake. A few minutes later, he geared down and turned south onto a loose gravel road, pitted with craters. Instantly they were plunged into a dense forest. Tall, looming trees blocked most of the moonlight and made it difficult to see the road ahead.