Cowboys & Navy SEALs

Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

T he next morning, on the drive to Barrett Medical, all Maddox could think about was that he’d overreacted. After all, Maddox knew how Addie felt. The reason she’d broken up with him to begin with was because she couldn’t stomach his life as a SEAL. Now that he was retired, it wouldn’t be any different. He couldn’t promise her that when he went into dangerous situations that he’d come back. No one could promise that. Things had been going so well between him and Addie—the chemistry between them set him on fire—that he hoped she would come around. Who was he kidding? He’d known from the minute he stepped foot in Birchwood Springs how this would end. Maybe this was the reality check he needed to cut bait and move on with his life.

Soon, Addie would no longer need protecting, and it would be time to go to the next assignment. Maddox hoped, that when he questioned Brent Barrett and Blanche Richey shortly, he’d get the validation he needed to put closure on the situation. By the end of the day, the authorities would have Brent Barrett in their custody. Brent already had the hard drive, meaning no one had any further reason to bother Addie. Like he promised, Maddox would accompany her to San Diego so she could see Corbin and Delaney. After that, they’d go their separate ways. Despondency settled like glue in his gut. Oh, how he wished things could be different, but wishing didn’t make it so.

The limousine pulled up in front of Barrett Medical. Maddox looked up at the modern, high-rise complex of glass and metal, gleaming like a self-important jewel in the midday sun. He glanced at Addie’s stony expression. After they’d arrived in New Jersey the night before, they went to a hotel that had two queen-sized beds and got some rest, speaking to each other only when necessary.

This morning, the coolness continued. It was better this way. Maddox couldn’t keep opening himself up to her, only to get shot back down. He reached for the door handle. “You ready?”

She nodded, squaring her jaw. “Yep.”

A couple minutes later, they walked across the shiny, hard floor of the cavernous foyer to the front desk where a suit-clad woman with a cap of straight-blonde hair sat staring at a computer screen, punching keys. When she realized Maddox and Addie were there, she reluctantly pulled her eyes from the screen and shifted her attention to them.

“Welcome to Barrett Medical, how may I help you?” she said in a nasally tone. Her words were all the same pitch like she was reading from a script.

Maddox leaned into the counter, resting his arm on the lip at the top as he flashed a conversational smile. “We’re here to see Brent Barrett.”

Her eyes widened. “Your name?”

“Maddox Easton.”

She looked at her screen and began furiously typing. Her fingers paused. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have you listed. Mr. Barrett doesn’t see people without an appointment.”

Maddox figured they’d have to go through a song and dance before getting past the gate keeper. “Brent will want to see me.” He looked the woman in the eye, not flinching.

After a second, she blinked and looked back at her screen.

“Call him and tell him I need to speak to him about Jordan Phelps and PZT.” He watched the woman’s expression to see if it would change at the mention of those two topics. It didn’t. She obviously didn’t have a clue to what he was referring. He might as well have told her he wanted to talk to Brent about gorillas and balloons for all she cared.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the authorization to contact Mr. Barrett personally,” the woman said.

“Then call his personal secretary. It’s important,” he added. He glanced at the metal detectors in front of the elevators. Good thing he’d left his gun in the limousine. Two security guards stood in front of the detectors, checking I.D.s. Maddox had no doubt he could take them both. If the nice way didn’t work, he’d have to do things the hard way. One way or another, he was getting in to speak to Brent Barrett. He forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Make the call,” he ordered.

The woman picked up the phone. “I have a Mr. Easton and …” she looked at Addie.

“Adelaide Spencer,” Addie supplied.

“Adelaide Spencer,” the receptionist repeated, “here to see Mr. Barrett.” She made a face. “Yes, that’s what I told them, that Mr. Barrett doesn’t see people without a prior appointment.” She shot them a vindicated look.

“Say it’s about Jordan Phelps and PZT,” Maddox prompted, leaning forward.

The woman gave him an exasperated look. “It’s something about Jordan Phelps and PZT,” she said, not bothering to hide her irritation over having to bother with them.

Maddox could tell from the woman’s surprised look that the conversation had shifted.

“Okay, I’ll send them right up.” The woman ended the call. A brief smile came over her lips as she reached in her desk and pulled out two visitor badges. “Show these to the guards. Take the elevator up to the twenty-seventh floor. Mr. Barrett’s secretary will be waiting for you.”

He offered a curt nod. “Thanks.”

“You’ve been so kind,” Addie said in a saccharine-sweet voice, her green eyes throwing daggers at the receptionist.

“Come on.” Maddox tugged at her arm, chuckling inwardly at her grit. “Save the claws for Brent Barrett,” he whispered.

Addie arched an eyebrow, giving him a blistering look. She jerked her arm away from his grasp, straightening her shoulders as she walked stiffly towards the guards. The sting of her rejection hit full force as he followed behind her. How in the heck was he going to get Addie out of his system? Even now, when she was being hateful and stubborn, he was mesmerized by her.

“Let me do the talking,” Maddox said quietly as they rode in the elevator.

“Sure, as long as the conversation progresses as it should.”

He tightened his jaw. “I’m the one who’s trained to handle these types of situations.”

She gave him a doe-eyed look, a hard smile stretching over her lips. “Of course, Superman.” She winked. “You got it.”

“Would you stop being so belligerent?” he seethed.

The elevator door opened. Quickly, Addie stepped out, as if to put as much distance between them as possible. Addie was so dang frustrating! Her curls bounced haughtily on her proud shoulders as she walked. She stepped up to Brent Barrett’s secretary and extended her hand. “I’m Addie Spencer.” She jerked her thumb behind her. “This is Maddox Easton.” She spoke his name like it was a curse word.

The woman gave Addie’s hand a quick shake before releasing it and turning her attention to Maddox. He took a quick assessment. The woman was tall and skinny, more like a runway model than secretary, wearing a sleek, black dress that hit her at the mid-thigh. Her glossy hair was chin length, her makeup a touch too heavy to be professional. She wore silver earrings that dangled a good two inches below her hair. Interest lit her eyes as she smiled, shifting her complete focus to him. “Hello.”

He glanced at Addie who was glaring at the secretary like she might squeeze her neck until her eyeballs popped out.

Maddox looked back at the woman, flashing a disarming smile. “How ya doing?”

The secretary just stood there, smiling at Maddox until Addie impatiently cleared her throat, spurring the woman into action.

“This way please,” she said briskly, like she’d just now remembered she was supposed to be a professional. She led them through an upscale sitting area with giant pieces of abstract art covering the walls. When they reached the large corner office in the back, she motioned.

The man sitting behind the desk, stood. “Please, have a seat,” he said in a cultured voice as he flashed a blinding-white smile.

Maddox and Addie took their seats in the chairs across from his desk. Brent Barrett looked to be in his early sixties, although he appeared to be trying to hold onto his youth. He was sporting a California surfer tan, his strawberry-blonde hair streaked with professional highlights. His skin was tight and smooth like he’d had more than a few Botox treatments, possibly a few surgeries. Maddox looked at the bookshelf lined with medical journals. His eye caught on a framed picture, presumably Brent and a much- younger wife, cheesing for the camera as they stood aboard a yacht. Everything about Brent Barrett screamed elegance and comfort. That would all change in a few hours when he was arrested for attempted kidnapping and suspicion of murder.

Brent sat back in his seat and crossed his legs, adjusting his pants so that the crease was straight. “What can I do for you?”

Maddox leaned forward in his seat, jumping straight to the heart of the matter. “We’re here to talk about the thug you hired to kidnap Addie.”

Brent’s face paled, and he looked genuinely confused. “I beg your pardon?”

Men like Brent Barrett disgusted Maddox, sitting in their lavish office buildings behind armies of lawyers, while they destroyed people’s lives. “Don’t play dumb with us. We know you hired John Wilson to kidnap Adelaide Spencer in the hope she would lead you to the hard drive containing the formula for PZT.” Maddox clenched his teeth. “Did you also kill Jordan Phelps?”

An ugly red seeped into Brent’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’re way out of line. I don’t even know who Adelaide Spencer is.”

“I’m Adelaide Spencer.” Addie said, glaring at him.

Brent shook his head in bewilderment. “Why would I want to kidnap you? You’re a complete stranger.”

Either the man was one heck of an actor or all of this was really taking him by surprise. Maddox figured it was the first. A person didn’t get where Brent Barrett was without playing the game, knowing how to cover his rear end.

“You can drop the act. The money trail leads straight back to you.”

Outrage flashed in Brent’s eyes. “I’ve never heard of John Wilson. I don’t know who you think you are to come into my office and accuse me with such outrageous allegations.” He stood. “I suggest you leave before I call security.”

“Sit back down,” Maddox ordered. “This conversation isn’t anywhere near being over.”

He pressed a button on his phone. “Sheila, call security. Have them come to my office immediately.”

“You sure you want to do that?” Maddox countered. He motioned with his hand. “Better yet, why stop with your security? Why don’t you call the police as well? Explain to them how you were in cahoots with your VP of operations, Blanche Richey. How you stole the formula for PZT so you could undercut Therapia, your primary competitor, and be the first to market the revolutionary drug that will cure Alzheimer’s.”

The muscles in Brent’s jaw quivered. He pressed the button again. “Sheila, cancel that request.”

“Mr. Barrett, are you sure?” came her hesitant voice.

“Positive,” he barked, sitting back down.

Maddox could tell he had the man’s undivided attention.

“What do you know about PZT?” Brent asked, the interest in his voice outweighing the anger.

“Enough to know it could be worth billions,” Maddox said.

“If it works,” Brent countered.

“Believe me, it works,” Addie inserted. “I’ve seen the proof.”

Brent cocked his head. “What sort of proof?”

“That’s not important,” Maddox said.

“A video of an Alzheimer’s patient who was given PZT,” Addie blurted. “She was as lucid as me and you.”

Maddox tugged at Addie’s arm and leaned close to her. “Let me do the talking,” he warned in a low tone.

She rolled her eyes. “What difference does it make what we tell him? Mr. Barrett already knows PZT works or he wouldn’t have killed Jordan and stolen the hard drive.”

Maddox felt like punching through a brick wall. Really? She was doing this now? Making this a power struggle over their failed relationship. Addie was beyond a doubt the most exasperating woman he’d ever met.

“I did not kill Jordan Phelps, nor did I steal a hard drive,” Brent asserted.

The man was determined to deny his crimes till the bitter end. Not uncommon. Maddox switched gears in the hope of tripping him up. “What about your VP, Blanche Richey?” He watched as Brent’s nostrils flared. Yep, Maddox had hit a nerve. “Call Blanche in right now. Let’s get her take on the situation. You and Blanche were in collusion. She had an affair with Jordan and tried to persuade him to sell Barrett Medical the formula for PZT. When that didn’t work, you resorted to more drastic measures, had Jordan killed and eventually stole the hard drive containing the formula.”

Brent’s face turned blood red as he let out a disbelieving laugh. “These allegations are preposterous. I know nothing about an affair between Blanche and Jordan. Furthermore, Blanche no longer works here. I let her go when I learned she was embezzling company funds.”

Maddox held Brent’s eyes, not backing down an inch. “And yet, there’s no mention of a police investigation or report.”

“In the interest of the company, I kept it quiet and handled it privately,” Brent countered, breaking eye contact.

“Where’s Blanche now?”

“I have no idea.” Brent shrugged. “Nor do I care,” he added dourly. He spread his hands, letting out a sigh. “Look, the only reason I haven’t thrown you out on your ear is because I have an interest in PZT.” He looked at Addie, eagerness lighting his eyes. “If it does, indeed, work.” He sat back, rubbing his jaw. “For decades, we’ve been trying to find something that would stop Alzheimer’s progression. Reversing it is a whole new ball game. The possibilities are endless.”

Maddox could almost see the dollar signs turning in the man’s eyes. “Do you deny that you were trying to steal the formula?” Maddox pressed.

“Absolutely.” Brent gave Maddox a withering look. “I resent your assertion that I would stoop so low as to try to steal a drug formula from a colleague. I have nothing but the highest respect for Jordan Phelps. His death was not only a blow to me personally, but to the medical community as a whole.” His voice shook with righteous indignation.

The guy was good, Maddox had to give him that. Even he was starting to believe Brent’s performance.

“What was your affiliation with Jordan?” Addie asked.

Maddox had to admit, it was a decent question. He waited, interested in what Brent had to say.

Brent’s jaw worked like he was trying to contain his emotion. “He was my friend.”

“Your competitor,” Maddox fired back.

“Yes,” Brent admitted. “That too.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “When I first got wind of PZT and its potential, I met with Jordan, tried to form an alliance between our companies to fast-track the drug to the market. Jordan, however, was territorial and determined to maintain complete control of his creation.” He spread his hands in defeat. “At the end of the day, we were unable to come to terms.”

“And you left it at that?” Maddox smirked. Somehow, he didn’t believe it was that simple.

Brent nodded. He propped his elbows on his desk, his fingers forming a triangle. “Yes.”

Uncertainty clouded over Maddox. He’d come here hoping to resolve this matter. Maybe Brent Barrett was guilty as sin, but there were still too many loose ends, such as the whereabouts of Blanche Richey. Had Brent killed her too to silence her? Maybe Brent Barrett was a psychopath, so justified in his own reasoning that he came across as being truthful. At any rate, after the authorities and Sutton’s interrogators got through with Brent, the truth would come out.

Brent’s secretary stuck her head in the door. “Um, Mr. Barrett. I’m sorry to interrupt, but the police are here.”

Brent’s face drained. “Why?” Anxiety filled his eyes as he looked at Maddox. “W-what’s this all about?”

Maddox and Addie stood.

“I didn’t kill Jordan Phelps.” His lower lip went limp like spaghetti noodles as he looked at Addie. “I certainly didn’t hire anyone to kidnap you.” A crazed look came into his eyes. “You have to believe me. I’m innocent. Please.” He clutched the arms of his chair.

“Do you think he’s telling the truth?” Addie asked in a low tone, her eyes radiating concern.

“Yes! I’m telling the truth,” Brent cried.

“Tell it to the police,” Maddox said tonelessly, leading Addie out the office. “He’s all yours,” he said to the police officers waiting outside.

When they got back into the limousine, Addie turned to Maddox. “Do you think he’s guilty. He seemed so shocked by our accusations.”

Maddox wanted to be able to answer a resounding yes , but he wasn’t sure. “The evidence certainly points to him. He had motive, opportunity.”

“Yes, it was convenient that he let Blanche go.”

“That she’s nowhere to be found.” Maddox made a mental note to ask Sutton have his guys try to locate Blanche. Her testimony could put closure to the whole situation, if she were still alive, that is. He offered a reassuring smile, but could tell it did little to ease Addie’s concern. “The good news is that it’s in the hands of the authorities now.” Maddox didn’t add that Sutton was working closely with them to uncover the truth. The idea of interrogation didn’t sit well with Addie. No sense adding fuel to that fire. Things were tense enough between them as it was.

She leaned back against her seat with a weary sigh. “Is it really over?”

“It would seem to be the case.”

She balled her fist. “I just wish we could’ve gotten Brent Barrett to admit to killing Jordan and stealing the hard drive. Or that we could’ve spoken to Blanche Richey.”

“Me too,” he agreed.

Addie’s phone rang. She pulled it from her purse. “It’s Corbin, probably wanting to know how it went. Hello?”

Maddox cringed at the stricken look on her face.

“What?” she gasped. “When? Okay, we’ll get there as soon as possible.” She ended the call. Her lower lip trembled, tears filling her eyes.

Maddox’s stomach twisted. “What’s wrong?”

“Delaney’s blood pressure spiked. She’s being rushed into emergency surgery. Corbin asked us to keep her and the baby in our prayers.” Her voice quivered. “Corbin didn’t sound good.” Tears spilled down Addie’s cheeks as Maddox gathered her into his arms. “If anything goes wrong…with Delaney or the baby…Corbin will be devastated.”

“Take us to the airfield,” Maddox instructed the limo driver. “Hurry!”