The Object of His Protection. Brenda Jackson

case if you’re willing to spring for dinner.”

      She watched the emotions that crossed his face, emotions he rarely let show. He was angry and upset but was holding it in. Something about the case he was working on was bothering him. She could feel it.

      “It is,” he finally said. “And the answers may very well come from a stiff brought here last week by the name of Joe Dennis.”

      Charlene turned toward her computer and typed in the name. “Nothing has been done with him yet. He’s on Nate’s list to do later today.” Nathaniel Ganders was her boss. “What exactly do you need to know?”

      His tensed features relaxed somewhat when he said, “Anything you can tell me.”

      She nodded. He understood there were limitations as to what she could share, and she appreciated the fact that he had never asked her to cross the line in doing anything unethical. Not that she would. “In other words, anything out of the ordinary.”

      “Yes.”

      “Okay. I’ll take a look at the report when Nate’s finished. As you know, my boss is very thorough.” She cleared her computer screen and turned back to him. “I’ll let you know if I notice anything.”

      “Thanks, and I’m serious about dinner.”

      “But I’m not.” It hadn’t been the first time he had hinted at the two of them going somewhere to grab something to eat. She could barely handle her reaction to him now; she didn’t want to think how things would be if she had to share a meal with him. Besides, she considered him business and she didn’t mix business with pleasure. “Maybe some other time, Drey,” she said, knowing it wouldn’t happen.

      “You said that before.”

      Not that she was foolish enough to think that it mattered to him. “And I’m saying it again. I’ll call you if I learn anything.”

      “Thanks, Charlie. I would appreciate it.”

      Charlene glared at him, something she always did whenever he called her that. “Do I look like a Charlie to you?”

      He smiled. “Hard to say. That lab jacket’s all I’ve ever seen you wear.”

      Before she could give him a blazing retort, he turned and left.

      The smile remained in place on Drey’s lips as he got into his car. For some reason he enjoyed getting a rise out of Charlene. In fact, the thought of seeing her today had pretty much kept his anger at bay, although it was creeping back on him now. He was discovering that being lied to all his life was something he was having a hard time dealing with.

      Before starting the engine, he sat still a moment and stared out of the windshield, thinking about the conversation he’d had with his mother, Daiyu Longwei, a few days ago. The conversation had practically shattered his world when she had told him that Ronald St. John was not his father. Instead, the man whom Drey had considered his mentor, Congressman Harmon Braddock, was actually his biological father.

      His hands tightened on the steering wheel as his mother’s words flowed through his mind.

      Sighing deeply, Drey started the engine, thinking that in essence, he was investigating his own father’s death. His own father’s murder, he immediately corrected, since he was convinced Harmon Braddock’s fatal car accident had been deliberate. Someone had wanted him dead and Drey was determined to find out who.

      Something else he couldn’t put out of his mind was that the very people who had hired him to find the truth were Harmon Braddock’s offspring—and his siblings. He shook his head knowing they didn’t have a clue as to what his relationship was to them. At some point he would have to tell them, but not now. He wasn’t ready to go there yet. It was bad enough that he had to deal with it. Besides, how his own mother played into the investigation was still a mystery since it was well documented that less than an hour before his death, Harmon had tried contacting Daiyu. Hell, Drey hadn’t known the two knew each other and none of the Braddocks knew that Daiyu was his mother. He didn’t like withholding information of any kind from clients, yet that was exactly what he was doing.

      He had known the congressman for a number of years. When Ronald St. John, the man Drey had adored as a father, had gotten killed in the line of duty as a police officer when Drey was fifteen, Drey had taken it hard since the two of them had always been close.

      It was during that time that Congressman Braddock took an interest in him. And later on in life when Drey had felt himself getting tired of his own career as a police officer, it had been the congressman who had encouraged him to start his own private investigating firm and had gone so far as to keep him on retainer during those times he’d been trying to make ends meet. He would be the first to admit that over the years, Harmon had become the father figure that he’d lost.

      To be quite honest, at first when he’d heard of Harmon’s car accident he had no reason to suspect foul play, even when the other Braddocks had. But now Joe Dennis’s death was raising his suspicions.

      Drey brought the car to a stop at the next traffic light as he replayed the facts of the case over and over in his mind. Congressman Braddock had gotten killed in a car accident. The skid marks on the road had been consistent with a car losing control. It seemed Harmon was heading for the airport, which was another mystery since Gloria Kingsley, the congressman’s executive assistant, who’d known Harmon’s every move, hadn’t known about any planned trip.

      Another thing that baffled everyone was why the congressman was behind the wheel when his personal driver, Joe Dennis, usually drove Harmon everywhere he went.

      And now Joe was dead and according to the police report there didn’t appear to be any foul play. Someone just wanted him dead. Why? And exactly what had been the cause of death?

      Drey had a lot of unanswered questions but at least he felt fairly confident the latter question would get answered soon enough, once he heard from Charlene. With that certainty, his thoughts couldn’t help shift to the efficient forensic scientist. They might bicker every chance they got, but they understood each other. He was as dedicated to his profession as she was to hers.

      In the two years he’d known her, he’d never met another no-nonsense woman quite like her, and he found her to be sharp, intelligent…and definitely beautiful. The latter he tried not to dwell on too much. Seeing her in that lab coat all the time should have been a turn off; instead it was a total turn-on because he often wondered just how she looked beneath it.

      But what he liked most about her was that she didn’t hesitate to give him hell if she thought he deserved it, and that made the verbal sparring with her that much more fun.

      For some reason he had felt the need to see her this morning. Of course there had been that matter regarding Joe Dennis, but it seemed once his mother had hit him with the news of his parentage, he needed the lighthearted banter he and Charlene enjoyed to take his mind off things.

      Lately, all of his relationships with women had been casual, just the way he wanted. He didn’t have time for any type of serious indulgence, and the last thing he needed was a woman getting too clingy. He could tell that Charlene wasn’t the clingy type. Besides that, their relationship was strictly professional. He had asked her out to dinner a few times, after the information she had given him had helped him solve a case, but she had refused and he hadn’t had a reason to push.

      Frowning, he turned the corner onto the road that would take him to his office. Later, he would drop by headquarters to check the police report again on Joe Dennis’s death to see if he’d missed anything. Drey was determined to find out anything and everything that he could.

      “I’m leaving to attend a meeting, Charlene. Don’t stay too late.”

      She smiled as she glanced over at Nate Ganders as he slipped into his jacket. “I won’t. In fact I intend to leave on time today.”

      When he tried smothering a cough, she said, “And please take my advice and do something for your cold. You’re passing