Protecting Jenna (NCIS Series Book 8)

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Protecting Jenna (NCIS Series Book 8) Page 8

by Zoe Dawson


  The doorbell rang. Scott stopped moving and, for a moment, she could swear he looked annoyed. But it rang again.

  “You better get that,” he said, his voice neutral. Then he smiled.

  She went around him and opened the door. She had to take a breath. Austin was standing there with an envelope in his hands. His hair was a bit disheveled, as if he’d been running his hands through it. He didn’t move so much as a muscle, and he stood staring at her, his jaw grimly set; this close, Jenna could feel the rigid tension in him. The flutter was suddenly back. Unable to hold that unwavering stare of his, she looked toward the super.

  Scott took the cue. “Well, looks like you have company. I’d better get out of your hair.” He opened his hand and revealed a fuse. “Faulty one in there. I replaced it. You have a good rest of the day.” He slipped by Austin. “Good evening, Agent Beck,” he said as he passed, then he was gone. Jenna dismissed him and stepped back so Austin could enter.

  “Hello, Jenna.” His eyes roved over her from her tousled curls to the open neck of the shirt, to the tight jeans, then lingered on her bare feet, the bold nail polish a bright hot pink. The doorbell had interrupted her putting on socks. She glanced down. Thank God she’d had her toes done.

  When she met his eyes again, she saw the hunger in them. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice filled with a thick gruffness that made her vibrate. Then his expression eased a little. “I mean…oh hell, can I come in?”

  His expression changed again. There was something dark and intense in his eyes, something that was eating away at him, and it made her throat ache and her chest fill up.

  She closed the door and said, “Yes, of course. It’s good to see you again, Austin. Can I take your coat?” Her voice mirrored the breathless quality in his. His jacket consisted of a stylish black pullover with a pronounced cowl instead of a hood. Unsnapping and unzipping the side, he pulled it off and handed it to her. Austin was dressed in gray pants, a tight-fitting, long-sleeved T-shirt in red that hugged the muscles of his chest.

  Since Austin had always been in uniform whenever she’d seen him, she’d had no idea he had such a wicked sense of style. It was clear he was influenced by his surfing roots but had moved on to slightly more business casual attire. She liked that a lot, seeing him in this light. He had always been so capable at the embassy. It didn’t surprise her that he’d transitioned into another position of authority. It was part of who he was.

  He also smelled so good. She wanted to bury her face anywhere on his body and breathe deep. Flustered, her hands trembling, she hung up the jacket. When it slipped off the hanger, Austin caught it, so close behind her she could feel the heat of his body, and that scent—outdoorsy, rain-washed and clean-smelling—flowed over her. She closed her eyes to try to ground herself. When she opened them, he’d zipped up the side so it would stay put.

  She turned and she was practically in his arms. He hesitated, then took a deliberate step back, and she could breathe again.

  He looked subdued, like he’d come to tell her bad news, and to add weight to his mood, he ran his hand through his hair again. Why was it that every time she came into close contact with him, she felt sensitized, electrified, as if there were a current running back and forth between them, feeding each other in a sensual two-way connection? But he’d been clear after that kiss they’d shared outside of the restaurant. He was on duty, and he didn’t want to muck up the situation between them.

  She got that but couldn’t shake that buzzing sensation whenever she was in the same room with him or thinking about him. Maybe it was the danger and heartache that fueled this feeling. She just couldn’t be sure. Exactly like the last time they were together. She was going through a terrible personal crisis coupled with a real-world threat.

  “You look like you’re going to the gallows,” she said.

  He huffed a short laugh, “Do I? Usually gallows humor helps in a situation where there’s so much ugliness, but in this situation, it’s not appropriate, as you’re not law enforcement. You’re also much too close to the victim.”

  “Sarah,” she said. “Please don’t call her the victim. I really hate that.”

  “All right. I’m sorry, Jenna. That was insensitive.”

  “No, you just aren’t used to dealing with someone you know who was close to the deceased. That’s all. I can cut you some slack. And, for the record, I’ve never known you to be insensitive.”

  He fingered the envelope and sighed. “Let’s sit down.”

  The ominous tone of his voice tightened Jenna’s gut. She had to hear what he had to say. She wasn’t exactly prepared for it, but then when would she ever be prepared to hear about someone who was deceased whom she…loved—yeah, she’d loved Sarah—and what had happened to them? The details of their death.

  She moved to the couch and settled on the cushions, and Austin lowered himself down onto the coffee table right across from her, like he’d done when he’d first arrived. It would have made her smile if she wasn’t so tense.

  Did that indicate he wanted to be close to her while he delivered the news, close enough to comfort her? That made her feel a little less alone.

  “First off, I don’t really have much to report about the investigation. There is one suspect, but I don’t have a thing on him, no DNA placing him at the scene or, hell, even speaking with Sarah outside of work. I’m following up some leads that I got from her phone and email, but I won’t detail those until I get more information. But I do have a question.”

  She took in all the information, and her stomach only got tighter. “What is it?”

  “Are you sure Sarah didn’t have a romantic relationship with anyone?”

  “As sure as I can be. She was secretive about her personal life. Maybe that was because she was just getting to know me. We were close, but she was all about the Navy and even more gung-ho about the Blue Angels. She breathed, ate, and slept it.” Jenna’s voice broke, and she went on softly. “It was her ultimate goal. Why? Is there an indication that she was seeing someone?”

  “There are some things that aren’t adding up. It could be she put a barrier up with anyone who was interested in her in a romantic way because she was so determined to fulfill her dream of flying with the Angels. But my gut tells me she had something going on. She has an encrypted messaging app on her phone.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a chatting tool that has a shelf life. People could send media messages or texts and they would disappear after a specified amount of time.”

  “It’s a clandestine app to keep private stuff private?”

  “Exactly. She has a ‘for her eyes only’ section on her phone that I worked on getting into, but will need to do more work before I can access it.”

  “Hack it, you mean.”

  He gave her a slight smile. “Yeah, hack it. Unless you know her pin code?” She opened her mouth, and Austin said, "Yes, I tried her birthday already."

  “I didn’t even know she had something like that. I had no idea what she did when she was alone.”

  “Of course,” Austin said.

  “Usually, secrets come from a need to protect the person. Why would she feel she needed protection regarding romantic behavior?”

  “Scandal, for one, especially if she worried about being in the public eye. The fact that she made the team was huge news. Sarah knew that, and anything that she did would become public once it was announced. Besides, Sarah was quite beautiful, and she would become a pin-up girl for male fantasies. A beautiful female sky jockey manhandling a fast jet would fuel plenty,” Austin said.

  “I see your point. Maybe she also wanted to spare the man she was involved with, as well.”

  “That’s a good point, but it’s all speculation until I can access the file.” His expression went softer, his eyes filling with compassion. “I’m sorry this is such a painful process and that I have to keep at you with questions, but it’s the only way to solve her murder. You understand that, right, Jenna
?”

  She nodded.

  He reached out and opened her hands, his fingers warm and stimulating against her sensitive palms, then set the envelope in them. “These belong to you now.”

  The plain manila envelope felt like a loaded grenade in her hands. Gathering her strength, she opened the flap, her knees weak, her heart fluttering like crazy. Trying to force some calm, Jenna took a deep, stabilizing breath and slid the contents of the package into her hands.

  She made a small gasp. These were Sarah’s things…oh God, from her body. Her effects. Her watch with the new leather band she’d given Sarah for Christmas. Jenna had snatched Sarah's watch, driving Sarah crazy right before Christmas when she couldn't find it. Jenna had taken it into the jeweler to replace the band, then had them wrap it up; she’d given it to Sarah as a gift. Her cousin had given her a narrowed look and they’d laughed about how Sarah couldn’t imagine where she’d lost the watch, with Jenna teasing her mercilessly about the worn band. Then there was a locket, one Sarah’s father had given her. It held the picture of her now-deceased parents. But it was the eagle earrings that got to her, the ones that matched the necklace…it wasn’t in the envelope.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  She touched the opal necklace around her neck, and it was too much overload. “There should be an eagle necklace in here. Sarah always wore it.”

  “I’m pretty sure that was it, but I’ll check back with headquarters in case it got left out.”

  Her eyes burning, she rose. “I should get dinner going.” In her haste to get to a task to focus on, to get her away from another breakdown, she dropped the earrings. “Oh, God,” she murmured and immediately knelt, frantically trying to find them. She found one and let out a soft gasp when she couldn’t find the other, her sense of loss over Sarah welling up. The knowledge that she was completely alone now hit her hard, so hard it left her reeling and disoriented. Her eyes filled with tears, and she bit her lip to keep it from trembling, then she closed her eyes hard, the tears spilling out.

  “Jenna,” Austin said, his voice gruff and low. He placed his hand against her jaw. She opened her eyes, her heart contracting when she realized Austin was on one knee beside her, and in his open hand was the other earring. He picked it up and set it in her palm, closing her fingers around it tightly.

  Her voice husky, clogged with tears, she murmured, “Thank you.”

  He made no response, a terrible tension in him, as if he were fighting some heavy emotion of his own.

  She heard him try to clear his throat as he dragged his thumb across her cheek. His voice was rough and very uneven. “You’re welcome.”

  He shifted his position, sliding his arms around her, gathering her up as he lifted her to her feet. Overwhelmed with a mixture of hunger and unbearable sadness, Jenna wrapped her arms around his neck, hanging on to him for dear life. Locking her jaw to keep her own emotions contained, she pressed her face against his neck, a sob trapped in her chest. He clutched her head against him, his rib cage rising sharply, then he made a ragged sound.

  They stood like that until the initial thick wad of emotion passed. When she was strong enough, she raised her head. He looked down at her and again, his thumbs swiped just below her eyes.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded, unable to speak just yet with the huskiness in her voice. “I’ll help you make dinner, or better yet, I can make it if you tell me what you had planned.” He was trying to distract her, but she saw that he had more to say. She should let him get through all of this before they had their meal. Already feeling as miserable as she could right now, she stepped back and said, “There’s more you wanted to say. Might as well get it over with.”

  “Jenna…”

  “It’s okay. Really. Tell me.”

  “The ME has ruled on the cause of death. It was manual strangulation, often seen as a crime of passion or deep hatred. Someone wanted her to suffer.”

  Jenna couldn’t imagine anyone in Sarah’s life had felt that way about her. She had been liked by everyone who’d met her.

  “The ME’s not quite done with…the body yet, so you’ll have to wait a bit to bury her, but there’s no reason we can’t begin the funeral arrangements. I know it’s complicated, and I can help you with that after dinner like I promised yesterday. All right?”

  “Yes, I would be so grateful.” This whole thing was so awful. Her stomach dropped with each word about her cousin’s death.

  “You going to be okay?” he asked. She stepped back, let go of him with a frisson of heat. “So, what’s on the menu?”

  “If you don’t mind, I would prefer to cook, or we can do it together. I really need something to occupy my mind.”

  “I know the feeling,” he said under his breath.

  “It’s going to be chicken fajitas. How does that sound?”

  He smiled. “Sounds good. I’m starving.”

  She backed away and then turned toward the kitchen. She pulled out the already marinated meat she had been planning for her own meal, then the sweet red peppers, green peppers, and onions.

  “I’ll take the onions,” he said.

  “My hero,” she said. “I hate chopping onions.”

  She set him up and then began to julienne her peppers. They worked in companionable silence until Austin said, “Have you had a chance to even think about the funeral?”

  “I know that she named me as her beneficiary and executor of her will. We talked about that because flying with the Blue Angels, even with all the precautions and training, is still very dangerous. She wanted me to know what to do in case of her death. I have all the important papers in a safe deposit box back in DC. I will need to go back there and get them.” She poured some oil into a skillet and dumped all the peppers into a pan, then added the onions that Austin had chopped. “I know she wants to be buried at Arlington Cemetery in Virginia. She grew up there and her dad and mom are buried there. He was also a Navy pilot. He and Sarah’s mother died in a small plane crash. Her dad was flying. She was eighteen.”

  “That’s a tough break.”

  She nodded. “I want to make sure she gets a military burial with all the bells and whistles. She deserves that.”

  “We’ll make sure that happens.”

  She cooked the vegetables and then removed them from the pan, adding in the chicken after discarding the marinade. The smell made her stomach twist with hunger.

  She grabbed the tortillas out of the fridge and popped them in the microwave to heat them. Then she got the shredded cheese, guacamole, and sour cream.

  “Could you set the table?” she asked. After she showed him where everything was, he got to work while she made six fajitas and set them onto a platter. She grabbed a pitcher of iced tea and went into the dining room. Austin had done a nice job, even lit the candles on the table. She set the platter down and accepted the seat he pulled out for her. Once she was settled, he took his own chair.

  They served up their dishes and started to eat. “Did I ever tell you I was in a band in high school?”

  “No. We didn’t get much time to really get to know each other. All I know about you is that you surf, had a pretty blonde girlfriend, and you showed stunning bravery the night we were evacuated.”

  He forked up a bite and chewed. “Well, I was a band geek.”

  “Don’t downplay it. Walking, carrying instruments, sometimes heavy ones, takes a lot of energy. Making music is a gift.”

  “Yeah, well, I was still a geek, in band, in math and computer club.”

  She smiled, touched by his wry tone, endeared to him even more.

  “Anyway, I played the trumpet. I even considered joining the Marine Corps Band but decided that I wanted to serve a different way.”

  “Do you still play?”

  “No, not the trumpet. I like the sax and guitar better. Got rusty while I was in the military since it was difficult to carry instruments around in a duffel but picked it up again when I got out.”

  �
�I’d love to hear you play sometime,” she said, biting her lip immediately. It was unlikely she’d ever hear him play.

  “Maybe you will.” He took a sip of his tea. “I’m telling you this information because sometimes live buglers aren’t available for funerals. If that’s the case, I can play taps for Sarah, instead of that canned crap.”

  Moved beyond words, Jenna couldn’t speak for a moment. She reached out and covered his hand briefly. “Thank you for that offer. I so appreciate it.”

  They finished their meal and Austin helped her clean up. Once the dishes were done and the leftover food put away, she opened her laptop.

  “The first thing you’re going to want to do is contact the Military Personnel Records Center in St. Louis, which is part of the National Archives and Records Administration, or NARA.” He typed into the computer and pulled up the website, then clicked through to a form. “This is where you’ll get all of Sarah’s military records. You’ll need those before you can apply for a burial site at Arlington. She will be honorably discharged, even though she’s now deceased. It’s required before you can access the burial benefits.” He slid the laptop over to her and she entered the requested information. “Our ME, Dr. Joiner, will provide you with a death certificate. You’ll need to add that to your records.”

  After she finished typing in everything for her request, he then opened up a Microsoft Word document. “You’re going to need a slew of information once you receive the military record and death certificate.” He started to type, his fingers flying over the keyboard. She could easily believe he was a hacker with the way he quickly and efficiently made a list for her. “Among some of the things you’ll need to know is the cemetery, which we know will be Arlington, and other family members interred there. Here you’ll need her father and mother’s information, type of burial for Sarah and so on.” He finished the list and saved it to a file. “If you have any questions during the process, just let me know.”

  “Austin, this is so helpful, and I’m so glad I didn’t have to do it alone.”

  “Anything to make the process easier. I know how hard it is to plan this, but it’s got to be done.” He closed the computer. “You know that you will get taps like I mentioned, a two-person honor guard for a flag-folding ceremony and presentation, and I would suggest you consider a military fly-over for Sarah. She served both on the USS Bradley Jones as a carrier pilot and as a Blue Angel. That seems fitting to me. I added it to your list before I saved it.”

 

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