by Laura Kaye
Marz looked at Charlie. “You game to work?” The blond man nodded. “Then Charlie and I will dive into these names and see what we can find. It’s eight o’clock now. Reconvene at, say, eleven?”
“Given how hard it was to find information on Manny Garza, do you think that gives you enough time?” Shane asked. Apparently, after they’d seen Garza working for the Church Gang with their own eyes, they’d researched him every way they could, but the guy had simply been wiped clean from the internet. They’d only proven his connection to Seneka when they learned his address from Manny’s sister Emilie and raided his house. And damnit if that didn’t stir up Kat’s irritation with Nick for not telling her about all of this. Because what if Garza had been there when they’d raided? What if he’d had company? What if that company had fought back? That situation could’ve gone sour fast. And Kat wouldn’t have ever even known Nick was in trouble in the first place.
“Guess we’ll find out,” Marz said.
Nick nodded. “All right. Eleven P.M. it is. Meet back here and we’ll take it from there.”
As the guys engaged in a series of side conversations, Kat took the opportunity to make her escape. She needed food, and she needed a break. And hell if she didn’t need to sit down for a few minutes, because after her afternoon acrobatics, she had some muscle aches in places she hadn’t known she had muscles. For crap’s sake.
Over in her brothers’ apartment, Kat poked around in the fridge to see what she could make herself to eat. The chili had been pretty well decimated, if the small portion left in a single Tupperware bowl was any indication. Unsure of what she wanted, she pulled out a bag of grapes, a jar of olives, and the wheel of brie, which she sliced and laid atop some crackers. Then she plated all of that with a handful of almonds from a tin in the pantry. Satisfied with her snacky dinner, she poured herself a glass of wine and followed the sound of women’s voices back to Nick’s room.
Sure enough, Kat found Becca and Emilie sitting on the dark blue couch in Nick’s office, which connected to his bedroom by a private adjoining hallway. “Knock, knock,” she said. “You all mind some company?”
Becca and Emilie urged her in and made space on the couch. Nick’s office was small but comfortable. A flat-screen TV hung opposite the couch, and a desk with an organizer full of files and forms dominated the side of the room.
As Kat settled, Becca turned to Emilie. “Wine sounds so good. Want a glass?”
“Bring the bottle,” Emilie said with a smile.
“Oh, I like how you think,” Kat said, taking a sip of her chardonnay. Fruity with a hint of oak and nut.
Becca laughed. “One bottle of wine coming right up.” She dashed out of the room.
“How’s it going?” Kat asked Emilie. “I haven’t really gotten to see you today.” And after witnessing Emilie find her dead brother’s body following the attack on Hard Ink just a few days ago, Kat was worried about her, especially since Kat was well aware just how possible it was to put a happy face on when you felt anything but. She held her plate out to Emilie in silent invitation, but the other woman waved her hand.
“It’s going okay,” Emilie said on a sigh. “Honestly, getting to talk to and focus on some of the folks here has helped a lot. Sometimes I just need to get out of my own head for an hour or two.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re finding that helping them is helping you,” Kat said. “Because I think it’s really admirable that you’re doing therapy sessions after everything you’ve been through yourself.” And given what Kat had gleaned over the past few days about what’d happened to Sara, Jenna, and Charlie—for starters, it sounded like a lot of the folks here really needed someone to talk to.
Becca returned with the rest of the bottle of chardonnay and two glasses. She sat, poured the wine, and then the three of them toasted with a round of “Cheers.”
“So, how are you doing, Kat? With everything,” Becca said, taking a sip from her glass.
Kat chuckled, glad to have the opportunity to talk to people who wouldn’t freak out, overreact, or look at her like she might break. “I just asked Emilie the same thing. I’m . . . I don’t know. I’m okay. It’s done now, anyway.”
“I might get how you’re feeling,” Becca said. “When we got Charlie back and the infection in his fingers got worse, I had to pull all kinds of favors to essentially perform a field operation in a borrowed ambulance out back.”
Kat’s eyes went wide. She’d known that the gang had severed two of Charlie’s fingers trying to torture information out of him, but not about the surgery.
“Craziest thing I’ve ever done, and, obviously, it’s really not kosher to use hospital equipment for personal use to perform procedures using not-fully-qualified people.”
“Wow, Becca,” Kat said. “You realize that’s kinda badass, right?”
“It totally is,” Emilie said.
“Didn’t feel that way at the time,” Becca said. “I just wanted you to know I’ve had to make some similar choices lately. I get it, so I appreciate what you did.”
Kat held up her glass. “To doing what has to be done to protect the people you love.” They clinked glasses.
“Amen to that,” Becca said. “I don’t regret a bit of it.”
“Here here,” Emilie said. “If I’d have done that sooner, maybe Manny would still be alive.” She shook her head and heaved a deep breath, her expression bleak but her eyes dry. “Anyway . . .”
“I had another brother,” Becca said, staring at the lamplight playing off her wine. “He died of a heroin overdose when he was twenty-one.”
“I didn’t know, Becca. I’m so sorry,” Emilie said.
“That’s so young, Becca. I’m really sorry,” Kat said. Damn if Becca wasn’t full of surprises tonight. Life really wasn’t for sissies, was it? Kat nibbled at the grapes.
“Well, thanks.” Becca looked at Emilie, a sympathetic glint in her eyes. “The thing is, we can’t save people who don’t let us know how bad things are or how much trouble they’re in.”
Those last words rattled around in Kat’s head where Cole was concerned, because she hadn’t let anyone know how bad his behavior had gotten until things turned physical. But at least she’d taken the steps to get the protective order. If only she’d get confirmation that it had been served to him. Once it had, she’d be able to breathe easier, because no way he’d risk his career, his license, or his freedom over her.
Emilie nodded. “I do know.”
“That’s why seeing Easy open up to a roomful of people about what he’s been going through was one of the most admirable things I’ve ever witnessed. Heart-wrenching, but so damn brave, too.” Becca took another sip of her wine.
“Wait. I’m lost,” Kat said, Becca’s words pulling her from her thoughts. She’d heard a few expressions of concern about Easy during the time she’d been here, but nothing about a heart-wrenching confession.
Becca and Emilie exchanged a meaningful glance, then Becca said, “Everyone else here knows, so I don’t know why you shouldn’t. Last week, Easy admitted to being depressed and having suicidal thoughts. None of us even realized . . .”
Even though Kat didn’t know Easy well, the news was like a sucker-punch to the stomach. Hearing that must’ve killed Nick. “Oh, my God. And you’re helping him?” she asked Emilie, who nodded. Kat pressed a hand to her chest. “Jesus, that makes my heart hurt. Nick was in such a bad place when he got home last year. He became depressed and got hooked on painkillers. And I don’t think he’d have ever asked for help if Jeremy hadn’t realized what was going on. The whole thing scared me almost as much as him being over in Afghanistan.”
“He’s talked about it a little,” Becca said. “That night, after Easy shared everything, Nick admitted . . . well . . . he’d been in a really bad place back then.”
Hearing her worst fears confirmed lodged a knot in Kat’s throat. It also reaffirmed the choice she’d made today. No matter what, if it was within her power to keep Nick from
walking down that road again, she’d do it. In a heartbeat. “I’m really happy he has you, Becca. You’re so good for him.”
Becca’s smile was instant and almost blinding, and Kat had seen a similar expression on her brother’s face, too. “That’s definitely mutual,” Becca said.
Kat ate a slice of brie on a cracker and then took a sip of her wine. “All you lovebirds around here. I swear.” She winked as the two other women chuckled.
“No man in your life?” Emilie asked.
Kat about spewed chardonnay from her windpipe. Not many safe ways to answer that one. “No, not really,” she finally said, ignoring the delicious ache in her thigh muscles.
“Seriously?” Emilie said. “You’re gorgeous, brilliant, and have a great job. Men should be lining up at your door.”
Kat affected a tortured sigh. “If only it were so.” Although, just this afternoon a man had in fact waited at her door. And she’d run face first into his amazing body. And then had her wily way with him. Twice. So not helpful right now, Kat. “Besides, my last relationship ended poorly, so I’m not looking to get into anything right now.” She didn’t want to say too much, but it did feel good to be able to say something to someone.
“Oh, no. What happened?” Becca asked.
Even though she wouldn’t have minded venting a bit more about Cole’s behavior, the last thing everyone needed was something else to worry about. So she shook her head as she ate more of the brie and chose her words carefully. “No big deal. He just had a hard time accepting it was over.” There. That sounded fairly neutral, right?
Becca frowned. “Ugh. How awkward was that?”
Kat chuckled. “Super-mega awkward.”
“I hate super-mega awkward,” Emilie said. They all laughed.
A knock on the office door, and then Nick popped his head into the opening.
“Speaking of super-mega awkward,” Kat said. Nick rolled his eyes at her.
“Come in, silly man,” Becca said. “It’s your room after all.”
Nick eyeballed the three of them. “Just didn’t want to interrupt the female bonding time.”
“Well, dude. You totally failed, then,” Kat said, smirking.
Nick arched a brow at her. “I thought I said no ball busting.”
“And I thought I said I’d try not to bust your balls. Oops. Looks like I failed, too.” She downed another cracker and sipped her wine.
Shaking his head, Nick asked, “Sunshine, do you remember when I said that you meeting Kat would be tons of fun for me?” He gestured toward Kat as Becca laughed and nodded. “Well, this was what I meant.”
“Suck it up, Nicholas.” Kat batted her eyelashes at him, knowing full well he hated his full name.
“Bite me, Katherine.”
Kat winked at Becca and then turned a big sunny smile on her brother. “So, did you have, like, a real reason to bother us?”
“Actually, yes,” he said, fishing something from his back pocket. He handed a cell phone to Becca, then crouched by her knees at the corner of the sofa. “You have two missed calls and a voice-mail message, all from the same person. Landon Kaine. General Landon Kaine.” Nick grabbed Becca’s free hand. “Becca, why in the world would the C.O. of our former base be calling you?”
Chapter 9
Beckett was having pretty much the same exact luck as Marz and Charlie. Which was to say, none.
He’d agreed to stay and help them research the list of names they’d acquired from Kat’s personnel files. As much difficulty as they’d had last week finding intel on just one Seneka employee—Manny Garza—Beckett had thought they could use the help to research this list of five. More than that, the busy work gave him something to occupy his hands and mind. Otherwise he might find himself doing something very stupid. Like finding Kat. Getting her alone somewhere. Getting her underneath him.
What the hell was wrong with him, anyway? He wasn’t a monk. In fact, he’d been with any number of women since he’d been ousted from the Army and returned stateside. But most of them had been one-night-only deals. A way to sate a need—for both of them—and move on. Not once had he had the urge to pursue any of those women. Not once had he felt drawn to any of them. Not once had he felt anything at all for them. At least, nothing beyond the physical.
None of them had penetrated his ancient numbness.
Until Katherine Rixey.
It was as uncomfortable as all hell.
Beckett ran the last of his searches on Gene Humphreys Washington. And just like Garza, who was also listed in the personnel files as a security specialist, there was absolutely nothing on the guy. He might as well have been a ghost. Or a figment of their imagination. “Anything?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at Marz and Charlie.
Marz scrubbed his hands over his hair. “No. It’s Garza all over again.”
Charlie turned in his chair toward them. “I’ve had some hits, but nothing useful. Greta Wendell appears on a church Web page and has social media accounts. Nothing jumps out as relevant to us or our situation on any of it.”
“Oh, wow. Someone from Seneka actually exists in the real world,” Beckett said, tone full of sarcasm.
“Yeah,” Charlie said with a nod. “Wexler is more like the guys you two researched, with one exception. Because he’s on Seneka’s executive board, he’s been named alongside John Seneka himself in media coverage of various investigations into the company and overseas controversies involving them. Beyond that, nothing useful.”
Reclining back in his chair, Marz laced his fingers together behind his head. “You guys won’t mind if I remove my limb and use it to hulk-smash something, will you?”
“As long as it’s not my head, I’m cool with it,” Charlie said, totally deadpan. The kid had a killer dry sense of humor when he unleashed it, which wasn’t that often, even with Marz, with whom he was probably the most comfortable. Well, besides Jeremy, of course.
Marz chuckled, but the sound was tired, frustrated. “Look at you rockin’ the humor, Charlie. Before long I’ll have you dancing on tables.”
Charlie grimaced. “I don’t . . . dance.”
“No?” Marz said, winking at the blond man. “Why am I wishing Jeremy was here for this conversation?”
As Charlie’s face turned red, Beckett shook his head and chuckled under his breath. Leave it to Marz.
“Glad he’s not,” Charlie said, humor and embarrassment mixed in his voice. He crossed his arms. “He’d probably wear his ‘I’ve got a pole you can dance on’ T-shirt just to spite me.”
Marz burst out laughing. “Charlie Merritt! I didn’t know you had that in you,” he managed, still laughing.
Charlie gave Beckett a Did he really just say that? look, his embarrassment easing in favor of amusement. “Dude. Think about what you just said and remember you’re talking to a gay man.”
Marz’s expression went comically confused for a moment, and then laughter exploded out of him. Bent-over, grabbing-his-side laughter.
As Beckett started to chuckle, Charlie did, too.
Just then, Nick came into the gym, and Becca, Jeremy, Emilie, and Kat followed him in. Beckett’s gaze latched onto Kat, who looked more relaxed than she had earlier. A little pressure released from Beckett’s chest at the sight, and he had to tell himself to stay the hell where he was when she got closer. Damnit. He fisted his hands and folded his arms across his chest.
“Oh, God, is it eleven already?” Marz asked, forcing himself under control.
“No,” Beckett said, checking his phone. “It’s ten after ten.”
“What’s up, hoss?” Marz called.
For the first time, Beckett noticed Nick’s face. And the guy was not happy. Beckett’s gut braced for a nosedive. What the hell could’ve happened now?
“We maybe got a situation,” Nick said.
“Nick, I really don’t think so,” Becca said as the four of them reached the far side of Marz’s desk. Jeremy took his usual spot against the corner of the desk nearest C
harlie, while Emilie came around and gave Marz a kiss on the cheek, then sat on the table behind him. Kat stayed at Becca’s side.
“What’s going on?” Marz asked. He’d sobered up quick at Nick’s words.
“Becca?” Nick said—and his effort to gentle his voice was clear. “Play it for them?”
“Okay,” she said, her pretty face pinched in concern and confusion. “Ready?” she asked. Everyone nodded, and then a man’s voice sounded out from a recording on the phone.
“Hi Becca, it’s Landon Kaine. I’m in the area for a few days and wanted to stop by and visit for old time’s sake. Figure it’s the least I can do for not keeping in touch this past year. I’ve got some free time on Thursday, so gimme a call today if you can. I’ll be up late.”
Prickles ran over Beckett’s scalp. At the name. At the voice. At the fact that Kaine was here, now. Beckett hadn’t known the commanding officer at FOB Chapman well, but he was aware that Merritt and Kaine were close. And in the days and weeks after the ambush, Kaine had been the ranking authority on all things related to the investigation and their ultimate other-than-honorable discharge.
“Well, ain’t that somethin’,” Marz said, turning to look at Beckett, his eyes full of What the fuck?
Beckett gave a single nod, sharing the sentiment. “That’s, uh, damn coincidental.” Though, really, he didn’t believe in any such thing.
“Somebody fill me in,” Jeremy said, flicking his tongue against the piercing on his bottom lip. “Who’s Landon Kaine?”
“He was a good friend of our father’s,” Charlie said, looking over his shoulder at Jeremy.
“He was also the commanding officer at our base in Afghanistan,” Nick said, skepticism plain in his voice. “And he presided over our discharge.”
“The general and Dad were close,” Becca said, looking between Jeremy and Nick. “They went to West Point and came up through the Army together. General Kaine visited my father socially over the years. Came to our house. Came to the funeral last year.”
“And when was the last time you heard from him, Becca?” Nick asked, turning toward her.
