by Zoe Dawson
He smiled. “Me, too.” He reached for his phone and brought up the display, swiped a few times, tapped the keyboard, then handed it to her. “Enter your cell number, and I’ll call you when I know better what time.”
She took the phone, warm from his body, and with shaking fingers entered the information under her name. He took it back from her and tucked it into his back pocket. She was so sensitive to him she was conscious of every movement, every breath.
“Bye for now, Jenna,” he said, his voice husky.
“Goodbye, Agent Beck,” she murmured. Letting her breath go in a rush, Jenna watched him leave, closing the door behind him. She had enough presence of mind to walk over there and lock it.
She turned and pressed her back against the wood, hugging herself again, an awful fullness in her chest, loneliness rising up in her with a desolating force. Sarah had treated her like a sister, and it had been so wonderful to visit with her, but they were both aware that Jenna would go home and Sarah would be tied up with the Blue Angels for the rest of the year. Still, her affection for her cousin had deepened, chasing some of that hollowness away for a short time. It seemed as if she’d been alone her whole life, except for the brief time she’d had with Sarah. As she mourned her loss, tears sliding down her cheeks, the ache spread.
She wasn’t sure what had fueled her interest in Austin six years ago—her need for validation, the fear, his protectiveness, or that she had been coerced into a marriage with a cold man who gave her nothing but condescension, careful lovemaking, and a comfortable living.
Maybe this is all in my head.
Realization struck her. It didn’t matter one whit. Austin was so off-limits. She’d never cross that line for his and his wife’s sake.
Chapter Four
That was one hell of a blast from the past. Seeing her gave him a jolt to the heart, head and other places he didn’t want to think about. Couldn’t think about. Stirred up so much silt at the bottom of his conscience, he was choking on it. He hadn’t really wanted to sift through any of this, not six years ago, and not today. But damned if the universe didn’t have other plans for him.
Her being here just made it all much worse, all much more unbelievable.
Son of a bitch.
She hadn’t changed. She still looked like a wide-eyed, purely innocent waif—wild black hair, cobalt blue eyes, draped in clothes beyond a Marine’s salary, hell, beyond Midas’s, all of it wrapped around a petite bombshell bundle ready to blow his damn mind. That was Jenna Webb, sweet enough to bring a man to his knees, sexy enough to give him night sweats.
Damn, double damn. As a surfer, he believed in karma and at this moment it was being a complete bitch.
This was one vicious ninja punch to the groin.
Experiencing a hot, searing rush in his belly, Austin clenched his jaw. He wasn’t going to get sucked back into this…this…sinkhole. He’d spent many years trying to get out of it. Shifting his position, he set his hands on his hips. He could have done without this crap today. He was just too damned tired to keep it in perspective. And besides, it didn’t matter anymore. It had been over and done with for a lot of years.
Yeah, that’s what you thought.
The past had a way of coming back to haunt him. And she was a big piece of his past. He could see her face, smell her, feel her. And there was no other feeling in his life that ever came close to being there, in her presence. Jarred by the sharpness of that revelation, he swore and wanted to put his fist through a wall, disgust washing through him. Where in the hell was his freaking mind, anyway? The very last thing he needed was to start remembering what it had been like with Jenna Webb.
He needed to focus on Sarah Taylor's murder and give Jenna peace in knowing that her cousin's killer had been found and punished. His heart softened for her and the grief she must be experiencing, especially after having found the body. It took time to recover from that kind of shock.
“Is this going to be a problem?”
Austin looked up and met the deep brown eyes of Detective Morton. Yeah, keen, very keen eyes. He gave the man a tight smile. “What?”
Jack Morton gave him a slow, off-center smile. “Maybe I should rephrase my question,” he said, those shrewd eyes studying Austin. “Is she going to be a problem?” When Austin didn’t immediately respond, he said, “It doesn’t take a detective to realize that you know her, Agent Beck.” He braced his shoulder against the wall and crossed his ankles.
Austin exhaled heavily and straightened. He had to work with this guy, so he couldn’t exactly say he didn’t know Jenna, but he wasn’t about to spill his guts to someone who was supposed to supply backup. He didn’t march to anyone’s drum but his own, and in this case, he would keep his own counsel. “Austin,” he said. “Old news, and not something I want to talk about. I got it under control, Detective Morton.”
“Jack,” he said, pushing off the wall. “If you say so. It’s only my business if it’s going to be a problem.”
“It won’t be a problem.”
“Okay, copy that.” He shifted away from the wall. “Now, down to business. The ME says it looks like she was strangled. Nothing was taken, not so much as a bill from her wallet, so robbery is out. There was no forced entry, which inclines me to say she knew her killer, either by acquaintance or better.” Jack held up a cell phone in a plastic bag. Thank God, this conversation was shifting to the investigation. “We found her phone on the counter above her body. The last number she called belongs to the complex’s super, Scott Posner. I checked into him. He lives on the premises,” Jack said. “According to the property manager, he’s been the super here for a few weeks. The previous one died from a heart attack. Let’s go pay him a visit. See what he knows.”
His apartment was located in the back of the two-story residential complex. They knocked on the door. After a couple of minutes, a man jerked it open. He was tall, with wide shoulders and big hands. His hair was dark, cut short, his eyes a dark brown.
“Can I help you?”
Both of them showed him their badges. “El Centro Police Department and NCIS,” Jack said. “We’d like to ask you a few questions. Can we come in?”
He opened the door wider and stepped to the side with a wary look. “Sure. What is this about?”
“One of your tenants.” Austin rattled off the apartment number and he nodded.
Posner closed the door and led them into the living room, the scent of chicken soup in the air. Looked like they were interrupting his lunch. “Sure, that’s Sarah Taylor. She has a guest for a while, Ms. Webb.”
“That’s correct. You received a call from Ms. Taylor last night. Can you tell me what you talked about?”
He took a moment to answer, looking confused. “Ms. Taylor? Oh…ah…she was having power problems. I told her to check the fuse box and call me back if she couldn’t fix it. Never heard from her, so I thought it was handled. I was tied up with a toilet issue across the complex. She complaining to the cops?”
“No, she’s dead.”
He reared back, blinking a few times at the news. “What? What do you mean?”
“She was murdered last night.”
“For real?” He stared at them, but Austin didn’t have a different story. Posner’s eyes grew wide. “Wow. I gotta contact the property manager.”
“She knows,” Austin supplied.
“Oh, okay.” He didn’t say anything else. Just looked at them expectantly.
“How well did you know her?” Jack asked.
He shuffled his feet and ran his hands through his hair. “Not very well. I’ve only been here a few weeks.”
“Seen anyone come and go? Anything suspicious?”
“As a matter of fact, I’ve seen a guy hanging around out back, but only at night. When I challenged him, he bolted.”
“You catch this guy’s appearance?”
“No, too dark, but he was lurking, in my opinion. I thought he was some Peeping Tom, and if I had gotten my hands on him, I’d
have throttled him. I made a couple calls to the cops, but they just said to keep a look out. They checked the footage on the security cameras, but the guy must have known where they were placed. They found nothing, so nothing came of it.”
“You have keys to all the apartments.”
“Yes, I have a master key.”
“Where do you keep the key?”
“On my belt.”
Austin held out his card. “If you think of anything else, give me or Jack a call,” he said as Jack offered him his card, as well. They exited the apartment, and as the door closed, Jack said, “I’m going to canvas the neighbors, head into the station, get her cell dusted for prints and look for any complaints from Ms. Taylor. See if anything pops there.”
Austin nodded and handed Jack one of his cards, and Jack reciprocated. “Give me a call with an update later. I’m heading to my hotel room, then I’m getting a bite, touching base with the office. I thought I’d head out to the base after that.”
“Sounds good. You need me out there with you?”
Austin shook his head. “I’ve got it covered. I’ll update you afterward.”
“That’s a plan.” Jack walked away.
Austin headed for his car, stopped by a burger joint and drove over to the closest hotel. After checking in, he unpacked. Settling into one of the armchairs, he ate some of the fries and called NCIS on his tablet.
Kai’s face popped up on the screen. “Beck,” his boss said. “Sitrep?”
Sitrep was short for situation report. Austin finished chewing and filled Kai in on what had happened so far. “You got any information for me?”
“Not a whole lot right now. The locals are running prints and other forensics. I’ve shipped the body and questioned witnesses. The only information I got so far is that Sarah had no boyfriend, but the super where she lived said there was some guy milling around. Might just be a Peeping Tom. I’m going to be heading to the base after this briefing. How about on your end?”
“Yes, quite a bit to share. Let’s start with the Blue Angels. There are seventeen officers who volunteer for the honor of representing the Navy with three tactical fighter or fighter/attack jet pilots, two support officers, and one United States Marine Corps C-130 pilot to replace outgoing members. Typically, seven members apply for the coveted slots by ‘rushing’ the team the year before—basically going to air shows and getting to interact with team members,” she said. “They leave their home base in Pensacola, Florida, for the desert and winter in El Centro from mid-November through mid-March due to the stable weather. They start training again in January after the holidays.”
“So, Sarah rushed them last year and was chosen as one of the new pilots, replacing an outgoing member.”
“Correct. I’ve compiled a profile for the deceased pilot.” The view changed to the widescreen. Jenna’s cousin’s military photo was up on the big plasma monitor mounted between Derrick’s and Austin’s desks along with her record. Austin took a bite of his burger. “Lieutenant Sarah Marie Taylor, parents deceased, no other living relative except for Jenna Webb, a distant cousin.” Kai looked up at him. “Ambassador’s wife. Hmm, didn’t you guard embassies when you were in the Marines?”
“Yes, I did, but we’re not talking about my Marine career here.” Normally, agents weren't permitted to remain on cases of people they knew. There was the problem of bias and being too close emotionally. If he told Kai he knew Jenna, she might pull him off the case. He didn't want that.
Kai returned her attention to the screen. “Exemplary record, not a blemish on it. She’s a Naval Air Station Pensacola graduate with twenty-one hundred hours and two-hundred and twenty carrier landings. Decorated with a bunch of medals and various personal and unit awards. Currently stationed at Naval Air Facility El Centro, she rushed them this past year and made the final cut. Becoming a demo pilot is quite an achievement.”
Polishing off his meal, he sat back. “I’m going out to the base. Commanding officer?”
“Commander Henry J. Washington. He’s been notified and is expecting you. I’ll take a look at the rest of the team and the seven candidates who were up for the coveted slot on the Blue Angels but didn't make the cut. I'll get back to you if anything stands out. All of them warrant a look-see.”
“Roger that. I’ll call when I’m done.” He wiped his mouth and reached to disconnect the call. But Kai’s voice stayed his hand.
“Austin, don’t lone wolf this.” Her brow furrowed, which told him she meant business. “Detective Morton is there to assist.”
“Are you handling me, boss lady?”
That only deepened her scowl. “Yes, I am,” she said, and Austin tried to keep his jaw from clenching, trying to hold back the first, faint teasing of a headache he felt coming on. Could be nothing but the tension from seeing Jenna, the freaking Santa Anas or the fact that he was omitting important information from his sitrep. “We’ve been under a lot of pressure and shorthanded. We both need a break, but we’re not going to get it. It pays to hire former Marines.”
After a couple of seconds, he let out his breath in a soft rush and told himself to get a grip. “Ah, Kai, anyone who served knows you don’t retire from Semper Fi. It’s in our blood. Improvise, adapt and overcome. I got this.”
She slanted him a dry look. “I know you do—just get it done with help. Copy?”
He didn’t answer right away, thinking he should fill Kai in on the fact that he knew Jenna, but what would that do? Just make her worry when there was no need to. They were short-staffed and there was no one to take over this case. It was best to leave the information out and soldier on.
“Beck?”
He conceded her point with a grim smile. “Yes, ma’am. Copy that.”
What a freaking mess. He thought about Jenna and he rolled his shoulder where that bullet had slammed into him. Memories flooded his mind, but he pushed them back. He had a job to do—a murder investigation. That was all he needed to focus on now, not how beautiful she looked, not how much her tears had torn him up inside and definitely not how much he wanted to wrap his arms around her.
Naval Air Facility El Centro was located about six miles from the town, smack-dab in the heart of the Imperial Valley and about a fifteen-minute scoot to the Mexican border. There was never any downtime in the military, and the Blue Angels were no exception. After their final air show of the season, team members transitioned to their new roles and another season started.
Austin turned onto the base, the landscape dotted with palm trees backdropped by a brilliant blue sky, sand everywhere, the distinct cobalt blue-and-gold aircraft on display.
As he approached, a sign reading NAF El Centro in simple gold letters against a curved facade of granite blocks announced the entrance to the facility. After presenting his badge, he was given a visitor pass and waved through.
Following the directions from security at the gate, he navigated through the base and pulled up to the building housing the commander. He exited the vehicle and was soon shown into his office.
“Hello, Special Agent Beck. It’s nice to meet you.” Washington reached out his hand and gave Austin a firm handshake. He had close-cropped sandy hair, blue eyes with an underlying sadness in them. “I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances.” He indicated a seat in front of the desk and then settled behind it. “I expect to lose a pilot to error or miscalculation, not to…murder.”
Austin sat, setting his tablet on the end of the desk. “Agreed.”
“How was she killed?”
“Strangulation.”
His brows rose, heavy sadness in his eyes. “That’s pretty personal.”
“I’d say. Anything you can tell me about her interactions with the squadron members?”
“Like what?”
“You tell me. I have had a report that she was harassed. The good ol’ boys don’t like a girl in the clubhouse?”
The commander’s lips thinned, and he stiffened. “There are always growing pains whe
n there are new members, but if there were such ‘reports,’ I heard nothing about it.”
“Convenient.”
“Our executive officer would be in a better position to speak about those issues. But how can we help in getting your questions answered?”
“I’d like to interview each member of the squadron.”
“All of them?”
“Yes.”
“We have sixteen officers, six support staff, and about a hundred enlisted sailors and Marines.”
“I’ll start with the main team and you first as the flight leader and commanding officer.”
“Fair enough.” Washington turned to a file and reached for a paper. He handed it over to Austin.
He folded it and tucked it into his back pocket.
“Tell me how Sarah got along with everyone during her rush year.”
“She was courteous and knowledgeable about a lot of our history. That impressed several of us. It’s a dedicated pilot who decides to apply for membership. They have to pay for their own travel to air shows, but get to sit in on team briefs, post-show activities, and social events. Sarah was outgoing, personable, and a top-notch aviator. I didn’t see any altercations or have reports of anything out of the ordinary with the members.”
“She got along with everyone?”
The hesitation was very brief, but Austin saw it. “Yes. As far as I knew. Everyone.”
Austin narrowed his eyes. That slight hesitation warranted deeper digging. Not that Austin wasn’t going to thoroughly delve into every person on the team to suss out what the commander might be hiding. He had been right—Sarah’s strangulation was very personal, a crime of passion. Could be hate and putting hands around someone’s neck and squeezing the life out of them took some serious enmity. Or it was love, most likely from a man scorned or unrequited. Whatever the motive, Austin would find out.
“I need one-on-one time with the rest of the team.”
“They’re training right now and aren’t available.” He tried to keep his voice even, but Austin heard the clip in it.
