Page 47 of The Biker's Brother

Brandon returned looking scrumptious in jeans, a heather gray Henley, and a pair of scuffed brown Ropers. He stuffed his wet clothes and boots into the garbage bag with Cami’s things.

“You’ve got twenty-one pounds left,” Copeland said.

Brandon put his athletic bag on the scale. There wasn’t much left in it.

“Twenty-four pounds. You’re over by three.”

Brand unzipped the bag, pulled out his brown leather jacket, put it on, then set the bag back on the scale.

“Twenty pounds. Good to go,” he announced and slid his phone into a vest pocket.

“You’ve already done flight check?” Brandon asked.

“Yep. We’ve got wind resistance from the north, but we should have plenty of fuel to get there without stopping. ETA is six o’clock.”

“Good. We’ll be there before dark. You got snacks?”

“This ain’t Braniff first class,” Copeland said.

Brandon gave him a look of warning. “No. It’s not even Dogpatch economy, but that doesn’t answer the question.”

“I got a box of cookies. A couple of bananas.”

“Bring them,” Brandon said, making it clear to Copeland that an invisible line of acceptable behavior had been established.

Brand went back to the SUV to get the rest of their stash. They still had three bottled waters, six protein bars, and two apples. It wouldn’t be lunch at Emiles, but it would do.

He helped Copeland strap the luggage into the seat next to Cami to balance the load the best way possible. When they were all in the plane and settled, Brandon said, “You are instrument rated, right?”

“Yeah. I’m not suicidal. I want to live. Just like you.”

Brand blew out a breath. “Okay. Let’s see what you‘ve got.”

“Gonna be a little bumpy.”

“Understood.” Brand did understand that. There was no way to fly through that storm without getting knocked around a little. He looked over his shoulder with a silent question for Cami. She was nodding when the engines roared to life.

CHAPTER Eight

New York

It didn’t take long for Richard to reach a decision. Opportunities like the one he’d been offered by Trey Michaels didn’t come along often. Giving Michaels what he wanted certainly wasn’t illegal. And it wasn’t as if the man intended Cami any harm.

Richard had nothing against Cami. She’d always been decent to him. Like Trey had said, Richard could be the hero in the story of a marriage going through a rough patch.

He knew Cami was trying to lie low, out of pocket, until after the divorce. He didn’t know why, but he believed that heiresses were often high strung and frequently overly dramatic.

He didn’t want to play games and make Michaels wait for an answer. On the contrary, he wanted to nail the deal down before Michaels had a chance to change his mind. It wasn’t as hard to find a pay phone as he’d thought. He supposed he just didn’t notice them anymore, but they were still around. And at two minutes after nine, he was dialing the number he’d memorized.

“Just a minute,” Michaels said. He got up and closed the door to his office. “Go ahead.”

“I accept your terms.”

“Excellent. What do you have for me?”

“I don’t know where she is, but I do know that he hired a security service.”

“Who?”