Page 55 of I'll Be There
“And Blankenship—how’s he connected?”
“This is where it gets interesting. Sons of Freedom is run by a man named Kayle O’Brien. Charismatic, known for his radical views and outspoken statements. He’s widowed, but has three sons who all work in various capacities around Montana. One is a contractor, the youngest is an attorney, and the third one runs the Freedom Center, a nonprofit organization that is doing rather well in donations...especially from a fund called Vanguard Investments, owned by Peggy Wright, the darling sister of our very own P.T. Blankenship.”
Micah sat down on the bench next to him. “Do you think P.T. Blankenship is funding the Sons of Freedom?”
“If you connect all the dots—it looks like it.”
“Then why would he send Justin in to take them down?”
“He wasn’t Justin’s handler. He simply handled his murder case. And, by the way, shelved it.”
Micah got up, ran his hands behind his head, folded them there. “Why would he want to kill you?”
“I’ve been running that around my head for the last four hours. What if he thought Blue said something to me, and now I’m carrying around information that incriminates him?”
“Do you think Justin knew Blankenship was funding SOF?”
“I don’t know. Vanguard Investments was set up after the British Embassy bombing, so it’s possible.”
Micah leaned on the table. “If SOF is being funded by Blankenship, then the man has his own personal domestic terrorist group.” He straightened, walked to the window. “Stay with me one moment here, bro. If Justin somehow found out that Blankenship was funding the Sons of Freedom—maybe Blankenship knew it. He could have—”
“Sold him out. Given him over to the Sons of Freedom to murder.”
Conner rose, walked over to the window to stand next to Micah, letting the silence, the realization, sink in.
He slowly pressed his palm against the window so he didn’t punch it. “All this time...”
“You don’t know for sure.”
“But I’m going to ask. And I’m going to get answers.” Conner looked at Micah. “Finally.”
“Yep,” Micah said, a grim hint of the warrior he’d been on his face. “Whatever it takes.”
The old juice sluiced through him then, the dark adrenaline before an op, his body buzzing, anticipating. “I didn’t want to admit it, but when you asked if I could let it go, walk away...I’ve been trying to for years. Just telling myself it didn’t matter, but...shoot. It matters.”
“I know,” Micah said quietly. “I tried for years to forget Lacey and what I thought she’d done. But it never left me. Even the night before she called me—I was on a Search and Rescue op—and I went back to my hotel, and there she was, in my head. Always...in my head.”
“And now...she’s the mother of little Beckham.”
“And I became Emily’s dad.” Micah turned to face him. “You’ll get answers and put this to bed. And then you’ll marry Liza in peace.”
Please. Conner scrubbed a hand down his face. “I talked to her tonight. She’s not sleeping.”
“Wedding jitters?”
“No. She’s been having nightmares of the attack. And...she doesn’t want to go back to Montana.”
Micah’s mouth formed a grim line.
“I built us a house.”
“Bummer.”
“It’s fine—you know me. I’m not sentimental. The problem is that she needs me.”
“Of course she does. That’s the point of marriage. Don’t you need her, too?”
“Yeah. Of course. But she needs me to bewithher. She doesn’t want to say it, but she’s afraid of something happening to me. You were right about that part. I think she wants me to quit jumping fire.”
