Free Breaking Protocol (Firehouse Fourteen Book 3) by Lisa B. Kamps Page B

that popped up when I checked, would it?"
    CC grimaced, glad her brother couldn't see her face. Damn him. But she should have known he'd look deeper when she asked him to check on Dave's record. Not his public record. Bubby was right, she could access that if she wanted to do. No, she was curious about any not-so-public record, something that might explain why he was receiving these threats.
    And Bubby could access things that didn't exist.
    "I have no idea what you're talking about."
    "You know I can tell when you're lying, right?" He paused, and CC knew that he was definitely pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. But she didn't say anything, unwilling to admit anything. "Of course, you already know about that. So what are you looking for?"
    "A connection."
    "This one of your hunches?"
    "No, more than a hunch." Like insider information, coming straight from the Big Guy himself when he told her more about some of the text messages he received. "Anything in there on his time in Helmand Province?"
    "Nothing out of the ordinary. He was in the middle of it, no doubt. As a medic, I'm sure he saw a lot of things. Probably things he doesn't want to talk about." She heard his underlying accusation loud and clear, knowing that both he and her younger brother were still worried because she had never talked about her time over there. But she had no intention of getting into that with him right now.
    "Well, there's got to be a connection to his time there. I just don't know how to make the dots all line up."
    "What's your friend say?"
    "He doesn't know how to make the dots line up either." She paused, weighing her thoughts carefully, knowing she had to watch every word she said to her brother. "I think that whoever's leaving these messages blames him for something that happened over there."
    "Doesn't take a detective to figure that one out, CC."
    "No, guess not." So much for being subtle. But she shouldn't be surprised. Bubby didn't do subtle. "Don't suppose there's a way to pull a list of patients, soldiers, he came in contact with over there."
    "That would be one hell of a lot of names, CC. You'd be better off asking your friend if anything stuck out in his mind."
    "Nothing does."
    "I don't know what to tell you. And as for your oh-so-subtle question, don't ask, because it's not happening."
    CC swallowed her disappointment. Not that she expected to hear anything different—even she knew something like that would be next to impossible to find. Not to mention that it would be a risk to Bubby if he started digging through so many files, classified or not.
    "When are you coming home? Mom says she can't remember what you look like, it's been so long."
    "Wow. Guilt trip, much? It hasn't been that long."
    "Long enough. You should call her, let her know when you're coming down."
    "I will. Maybe in a few weeks. I've got some vacation time I need to use up anyway."
    "Hm. Do yourself a favor and don't phrase it like that when you talk to her, okay? And CC?"
    "Yeah?"
    "Just watch yourself."
    "Always." She smiled into the phone then disconnected the call before her brother could make a sarcastic comeback. Because he would. As her big brother, he felt it was his familial duty to keep her firmly grounded, and he wielded sarcasm with an expert tongue.
    She tucked the phone back into her pocket then stretched her legs out and tilted her head back, staring at nothing while her mind worked.
    Her Big Guy was in trouble, only he didn't want to admit how much. Probably not even to himself. And whatever was going on had the potential of turning into, as they say, a real shit storm.
    Any sane person would just walk away, as far and as fast as they could, putting as much distance as possible between them and potential trouble. She had just met Dave, there was no reason she shouldn't be hightailing it in the other direction already. She didn't really know him, certainly didn't owe him anything.
    The phantom feel of his hand brushed against her calf,