Free Blue Blooded by Shelly Bell

about you? Are you close with your family?”
    He coughed, his voice coming out a bit raspy. “Yeah. I’ve got a big family too. Four older brothers.”
    â€œYou’re the baby?” She shook her head. “I’m surprised. I figured you for the oldest ’cause you’re so bossy.”
    He grinned. “You think I’m bossy, you should meet my brothers. They’re navy SEALs.”
    Five Bradford brothers? Judging by Logan, her hormones would go on overload if she ever found herself in the same room as all of them. Strange that he would go into a different arm of the military from the rest of his brothers. “You were in the army, right? What did you do for them?”
    His hands tightened on the wheel. “Intelligence.”
    The reporter in her smelled a story, but the woman in her knew better than to piss off the man she was stuck with until they resolved this mess. Still, she couldn’t resist asking, “Why did you leave?”
    â€œArmy and I weren’t a good fit,” he answered, his line sounding dull and rehearsed. He conveniently ended the conversation by switching the radio to AM and turning up the volume. Yeah, there was definitely more to the story. But they weren’t friends. He owed her no more than she owed him.
    He stopped on a news station and they listened to the day’s top stories. A foiled terror attack on some obscure African country. Another shooting of a minority by a police officer. A debate in the Senate between Senator Hutton, who was calling for additional funding to protect the nation in case of viral warfare, and Senator Byron, who wanted to cut federal spending on homeland security. Rachel should be at her office right now, in the thick of it, reading the Associated Press wire and watching her network’s national station.
    Walter whimpered in her lap, making little doggie noises in his sleep. Did dogs have nightmares? Patting his head, she jerked at the sound of her name on the radio. “The FBI is unable to comment on that. However, the public should consider them armed and dangerous. I’d like to reiterate that if you see Logan Bradford and/or Rachel Dawson, please do not approach them, but instead, call 911 to report the sighting to the police or call the FBI’s Major Case Contact Center. That’s all we have for now. We won’t be answering any questions at this time.”
    Her mind whirled with the knowledge that she no longer reported the story.
    She was the story.
    â€œIt doesn’t make sense,” Rachel said as the station switched from the FBI media coordinator to another story. “How did the FBI get jurisdiction over Rinaldi’s murder?”
    Worry was etched on Logan’s face. “I’d assume from the organized crime angle, but there’s much more going on here than a couple of agents taking out a multimurdering mobster no one would mourn.” He rubbed his hand over his head. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
    â€œYeah. It means we’ve just become national fugitives.” She heaved a sigh, soothing the whining Walter. “It means we’re fucked.”

Chapter Seven
    S TARING IN THE full-length mirror, the Senator straightened his tie and practiced his speech, the words he’d spoken dozens of times before but nevertheless continued to rehearse. There was nothing worse than a man who stumbled over his words. Appearances were everything, which was why men like him could tell a thousand lies and yet no one bothered to question him. He was American royalty, the son and brother of former United States presidents. His family had dirt on every CEO of every major news outlet as well as the most influential politicians on both the federal and state level, from their addictions to underage hookers to their penchant for cross-dressing to rape of senatorial interns. None of them dared speak out against his family for fear of exposure of their