Page 5 of Exhale (Out for Justice #8)

Two days later…

O wen pulled into the Pegasus parking lot and parked.

Jordan was just getting out of his vehicle, and Owen had noticed an unkempt guy standing at the gate when he’d pulled through. The man had followed his truck through the gate.

Owen slid out of the vehicle and shut the door.

He approached Jordan and caught the man’s arm.

“Stay here, I’ll take care of it,” he said, gesturing to the man walking toward them.

Jordan rolled his eyes, checked the clip on his weapon, and followed. No way was he going to sit back like a damsel in distress. He tucked his weapon into the back of his pants beneath his shirt and followed Owen across the parking lot.

“This is a restricted area,” Owen told the guy, gesturing to the closing gate.

“Jordan?”

Jordan squinted at the sound of his name being whispered. He cocked his head, searching his memory as he combed over the face before him.

Oh my god.

“Lucas?” Jordan asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” the man’s voice shook.

“Jesus…” Jordan couldn’t keep the shock from his voice and yanked the man into his arms. They had been a few years apart growing up, with Lucas three years older than him.

Owen stood silently nearby.

“I haven’t seen you since we rescued Seth.”

“That guy from the warehouse?” Lucas asked.

“Yeah.”

“I know, I got taken in by CPS two days later,” Lucas admitted.

“How did you find me?” Jordan asked.

“I spotted you at that all-you-can-eat buffet in Ventura. I couldn’t believe it. I call your name, but you didn’t hear me. I staked out the place, and you came back about a month later.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

Lucas grimaced and looked down at himself. “I’m…I don’t know.”

The younger man shifted on his feet.

“How did you know I was here at this building?”

“After the second time I saw you, I followed you here. I waited across the street, but never found an opportunity to talk to you. And you’ve been gone over the past few months.”

Jordan nodded. With his assigned cases and the trip to the Nevada ranch, he had been hella busy the past few months. Plus, he wouldn’t have noticed Lucas following him if he were being honest. Growing up as a street rat himself, he felt the safest around them.

“I can’t let you stay here, but give me your contact info and I’ll come find you when I get back,” Jordan said, walking Lucas to the gate.

“Yeah, I get it. Um… Have you seen any of the other boys?” Lucas rubbed at his mouth.

“No, have you?” Jordan frowned.

“A few.”

“Who?”

“Let’s catch up later, I know you’re working. You know that shelter near the community center? You can find me there,” Lucas said with a sad smile.

Without another word, Lucas walked out the gate and headed down the block without looking back.

Jordan felt like shit.

Lucas had helped him rescue Seth from that fucking building that day. He owed it to the guy to help him out.

“Hey, you okay?” Owen asked.

“Yeah…just regrets that I couldn’t help him.”

“You can’t help them all,” Owen said and then added, “but I bet you can help Lucas now.”

“Yeah?” Jordan knew his smile was hopeful, and Owen nodded, smiling back.

“Yeah, I’m certain of it.”

“I want you both on the Leroy Ruiz case,” Ace said, and Owen stared at his brother.

Jordan stood next to him inside Ace’s office, and Owen felt the young man tense. He didn’t need to look over to tell that Jordan didn’t want this case any more than he did.

Or maybe it was that Jordan didn’t want to be on this case with him .

Things had been tense between them since Jordan got back from Nevada yesterday. Owen had received nothing but one-worded responses to any request he made. Sometimes, it was on a case and other times, he just wanted to ask how he was doing, but Jordan apparently couldn’t be bothered.

“You have one week to get as much information as possible to take this son of a bitch down,” Ace said, tossing the iPad he was holding on the top of his desk. It cracked loudly.

Jacob, who was sitting on the edge of Ace’s desk, gently ran his fingers along the back of Ace’s neck before carding them through the man’s hair at his nape.

Jacob was his brother’s husband, and Owen wanted what his brother had. Someone to love and care for him. He had thought it might be the man at his side, but Jordan had given him the impression that it wasn’t going to happen.

“Now get busy,” Ace said, but the biting growl in the man’s voice had softened, and before he and Jordan even walked out of the office door, Ace was reaching for Jacob.

Jordan’s friend Lucas was still on his mind, and Owen couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about the guy.

First, the guy looked fit beneath his shabby clothes, and second, his hair had been dirty, but it wasn’t shaggy.

Whatever the case, he would make damned sure he was with Jordan when he met the guy.

Stepping outside Ace’s office with Jordan, a call came in to Owen’s cell phone, and he frowned at the Arizona area code.

“Hello?”

“Owen Gray?” a man asked.

“Yes.”

“This is Detective Knoll from the Phoenix, Arizona, sheriff’s department.”

“Hello, Detective, how can I help you?” Owen said, and because Pegasus often helped out law enforcement, it wasn’t all that strange to get a request. What was strange was getting a direct call.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but you are listed as Genevieve Long-Gray’s emergency contact.”

“Ginny?” Owen said.

Apparently, his ex-wife had never updated her emergency contact info. Which was odd because she did have family.

“I’m sorry to inform you that your ex-wife was involved in an accident.”

“Is she hurt?” Owen frowned.

“I’m… sorry for your loss.”

Seven hours later…

Ginny was dead.

She had died in a house fire along with her friend, Louise Barnes.

That was what the Phoenix, Arizona, police department was calling it.

But Owen had questions.

One being…how in the hell did two perfectly healthy women die in a late morning fire without even trying to run for it?

Ginny’s body had been recovered in the dining room, and Louise’s was found in the kitchen.

It didn’t make sense.

“I don’t believe it,” Jordan said, pointing that out to the lead detective on the scene.

“What’s not to believe?” Detective Bixby said.

“I want to see the autopsy report,” Jordan fired back.

“You’re hindering our investigation,” Bixby said with a deep scowl that seemed to be permanently etched into his brow ever since their arrival.

Wearing a charcoal gray suit, with his hair slicked back into a comb-over, Bixby thought he was hot shit. It was clear by the way the man puffed up and disagreed with everything Jordan had said thus far.

Owen knew that Jordan had grit, but he didn’t really know just how hard-headed and tenacious the younger man could be until now. Which might seem odd to some people since they had known and worked with each other for roughly four years.

It wasn’t odd, though, because he and Jordan had only worked a dozen cases in all that time.

And when on a job, Jordan kept a professional distance.

Plus, Jordan had mad skills at dodging him.

A few times when Owen had requested Jordan accompany him on a mission, the next thing he knew, Jordan would be working out of the Phoenix office in Northern California for a few weeks.

Always keeping that distance, so why was Jordan here at his side now?

Their conversation prior to making the trip to Arizona had been interesting to say the least.

“I need to take care of something personal,” Owen had said when he got off the phone with Detective Knoll from the Arizona Sheriff’s department.

“Why?” Jordan stepped closer.

“A death,” he murmured evasively.

“Who?”

Owen gave an impatient sigh, but Jordan wasn’t backing up, nor away. In fact, the younger man reached out and gripped his upper arm to keep him still.

“My ex-wife died.”

Jordan blinked, shock clear in those brilliant blue eyes, then they softened and grew concerned.

Owen steeled himself against that look. It made him want to pull Jordan into his arms and kiss him.

“So…” Owen cleared his throat. “I’ll be back in time for the mission.”

“I’m going with you,” Jordan said softly, releasing his grip.

“You…don’t have to.”

“I’m going,” Jordan said stubbornly.

So here they were, standing in what was left of his ex-wife’s friend’s house. The fire had started in the kitchen and spread to the dining room, burning the front bedroom before firefighters had put the blaze out.

“You’ve had two days to figure this out,” Owen said, turning on Bixby.

“If you two would excuse us, we have an investigation to continue,” Bixby growled, gesturing to nearby police to get them out of there.

Owen waited until Jordan held his eyes before he turned and walked out of the demolished front room. He walked across the front lawn and made it to the sidewalk.

“What do we do now?” Jordan asked from right next to him.

“I need to go by Ginny’s place, but first, we need to find a place to stay,” he said and flipped the lock on the rented SUV.

“Good idea.”

Jordan got a call on the drive out of the neighborhood, and hooking the phone between his shoulder and chin, the young man pulled his laptop out of his bag and popped it open.

“Yeah, I can get in, hold on,” Jordan said.

Owen didn’t need to guess who was on the other end of the line…it was someone from one of Dave’s many specialty teams. Jordan was their go-to—even over Seth or Kellum—when they needed some techie shit done asap.

Jordan had unmatched skills, but in Owen’s opinion, the young man was being taken advantage of. If he had his way, he’d nix that shit right the hell now.

Jordan was on a job with him. And maybe it wasn’t an official job right now, but after he made a call to Ace, it would be.

When he’d gone back into his brother’s office and shared the fact that Ginny was dead, Ace had immediately given him time off and allowed Jordan to come with him.

Owen eased the SUV over and parked on a side street. Jordan tossed him a curious glance, but then went back to the keyboard and phone conversation.

Owen tucked his earbud in and called Ace.

“How’s it going?” his brother answered on the first ring, his voice filled with concern.

“Here’s what I know,” Owen said, and filled Ace in on the situation and his suspicions about Ginny and Louise’s deaths not being an accident.

Jordan’s fingers flew over the keyboard, and the techie was firing back information over the phone at a speed that boggled the mind.

“So, I want this on the books, and I want to have lead on the investigation,” Owen said.

“Is the fire marshal still on scene?” Ace asked.

“Yes, but they aren’t sharing shit. The local PD is calling it an accident until ruled otherwise. I fear that any leads will grow cold while we wait,” Owen admitted, watching Jordan’s profile.

“I’ll make the call,” Ace said.

“One more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Stop using Jordan while he’s on this case,” Owen said flatly.

Two things happened simultaneously.

“Who’s using him?” Ace asked, and Jordan’s head snapped up.

The techie glared at him, and if looks could kill, he’d be ten feet under.

“I don’t know, but I need him on this case without distractions.” Owen returned Jordan’s hard gaze.

“I’ll make it happen,” Ace said, ending the call.

Owen twisted his lips, wondering how the hell he was going to defuse the situation he now found himself in.

“No…wait, Noah, I can do it. I’m almost there,” Jordan said in a rush, but apparently the line went dead.

With a snarl, Jordan turned on him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“You’re on this case, I don’t need you getting pulled every which way,” Owen grumbled.

“Are you kidding me?” Jordan gaped at him. “News flash, grandpa, I can multitask.”

Silence.

“Did you just call me, grandpa?” Owen asked incredulously.

Jordan threw up his hands and gave an irritating sigh. “Look, I can do this shit in my sleep. So don’t tell me how to do my damned job! You’re not my boss.”

Owen scowled and gripped the wheel, his knuckles turning white. He shoved the SUV into drive and pulled away from the curb.

“New flash,” he snarled back, “I am your boss on this case.”

He was way bent out of shape over the grandpa comment, but kept his mouth shut. If he spoke right now, he would say something that wasn’t going to do either of them any good.

They both needed time to calm the hell down.

Him, more than anyone.