Navy Orders

by Geri Krotow

  Ro never thought she’d need Krissy’s advice, especially when it came to emotions.

  She felt a niggle of doubt. Hadn’t she envied Krissy’s ability to identify her emotions? Maybe being able to recognize feelings instead of bottling them up would have kept her from wasting so much time on Dick.

  And the resulting fallout that kept her from being open to a new relationship.

  If she started down the path of what she needed to change in her life, she might discover she’d wasted years on the wrong career, too. Her knitting and artistic yearnings had grown stronger since she’d moved to Whidbey. Gwen was right—she had an artist inside her, pounding on the door of her conscience, insisting on her time.

  It scared her senseless.

  “I’m crazy, aren’t I? I always thought it was you, our family, that was nuts, but who was the one running all over the globe, chasing fulfillment that can’t only come from a career?”

  “Ro.” Krissy’s one-word admonishment took away the self-recrimination.

  “You’re right, Krissy. I need to lighten up and let some of this go. Enjoy your time here. Go on tours, see the Pacific Northwest. Then go home and get on with it—” Ro waved her hand between Krissy’s stomach and Dick’s chest “—your life together. All three of you.”

  She gave them her best smile but knew she had to get out of there. Besides finding the emotional wrestling with Krissy and Dick exhausting, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was forgetting something. She was halfway out of the kitchen when she turned back around.

  “Wait a minute.” She looked at Krissy and Dick. They stared back at her, all wide-eyed innocence. “I knew it! You thought you had me on this one, didn’t you?”

  “What?” Krissy asked.

  “When’s Mom showing up?”

  * * *

  MILES PULLED OFF Highway 20 and let out a long breath as he coasted his truck to a stop in front of the animal shelter. He needed to get out and go for a long walk, then maybe a run later with Lucky. The tightness in his shoulders radiated down to his spine and pelvis. His glutes and hamstrings would be next and then he’d need a couple of weeks of physical therapy to work out the knots.

  Relief from the physical manifestations of the Perez case wouldn’t be immediate, but this was a great way to kick-start it.

  He entered the main area and smiled at Sally, the volunteer on duty.

  “Hi, Miles. What’s your poison today?” The college student grinned at him as she referred to the myriad tasks he had to choose from.

  “What needs doing? I’ll muck out the dog kennels if you need me to.”

  “Myra’s back there now, and she may just get the last of them done. Are you in the mood for walking some major leash-pullers?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The bigger and stronger breeds that hadn’t had any decent training were often nightmares on walks. They proved a challenge even to Max, and he worked out regularly. The seniors and smaller women who volunteered walked the dogs they could, but that didn’t always include the big ones.

  “You know where everything is. There’s a new boy back there, a black Lab-shepherd mix who loves to play and jump.”

  “Got it.”

  Miles let himself into the kennel area and tried to stay positive about each pup in its kennel. He was grateful this was a no-kill shelter, so he didn’t have to worry about saving all the dogs from being euthanized for lack of resources. Because he’d be bringing home every dog he saw if he didn’t know they’d live comfortably here until they found their forever home.

  He stopped in front of the last kennel and read the whiteboard that described its contents.

  “Beauregard, eh?” The puppy leaped up, his head even with Miles’s on the other side of the fence. “Why don’t I just call you Beau?”

  Huge black paws rested on the fencing as Beau tried to lick Miles through the gate.

  Miles laughed.

  “Okay, boy, let’s get you out for a stretch.” He took the leash down from the side of the kennel and made short work of attaching it to Beau’s collar. Beau was a bundle of energy, all right, but even this young dude knew that in order to taste some freedom he had to wait for the leash to click.

  Beau surprised Miles by walking like a perfect gentleman through the rest of the kennel, past the long line of doggie inmates who barked in acknowledgment of their buddy.

  Miles kept his gaze straight ahead. He couldn’t bear to look at all their faces, with their silent plea of “take me home, me, me!”

  Once they left the shelter and were out on the main walking path, Beau shed his charm and made a lunge that threatened to dislocate Miles’s shoulder.

  Miles was ready for him.

  “Beau, halt!” He yanked back on the leash and waited for Beau to stop freaking out.

  Of course Beau didn’t.

  Miles switched to plan B—he kept walking in the opposite direction of where Beau wanted to go. Beau was a typical crazy young Lab but he wasn’t stupid. He wanted to be in his small pack with Miles, and within a few minutes he automatically fell into step next to him no matter which way Miles turned.

  Miles stopped and gently but firmly nudged Beau’s rump with his hand.

  “Sit.” Beau sat.

  “Good boy!” Miles patted Beau’s head, pleased with the immediate job satisfaction. He slipped Beau a treat from his pocket.

  As soon as he gulped down the biscuit, Beau jumped up, planting his paws on Miles’s chest. Glancing down, Miles saw rich, wet spring mud glistening on his new microfiber workout jacket. There were telltale snags from Beau’s nails.

  So much for his training skills.

  “Off.” His knee pushed on Beau’s chest and Beau sat, tail wagging, tongue hanging, his starstruck gaze on Miles.

  Miles sighed. He wanted to be a tough-love trainer, but the boy needed affection, too. Miles crouched down.

  “You’re a good boy, aren’t you? It’s hard being in the klink.” Beau sat in place as long as Miles rubbed his ears, the sides of his head.

  Miles thought about Lucky and how she loved other dogs. It had nothing to do with Lucky, though—he wasn’t ready to adopt a dog. Not quite yet.

  “Forget about it, buddy. I don’t have room for you. But maybe we’ll find someone at the base who needs a puppy. Come on, let’s go.”

  He walked Beau for the better part of the hour he’d allocated to be there. When he first volunteered, right after he’d arrived at the base and Riva’s death was still so painfully fresh, he’d tried to walk every dog possible in the shortest amount of time. He soon figured out that the dogs didn’t benefit from a rushed excursion and he found nothing relaxing about running with dog after dog, sometimes two or three together, only to return them to their kennels too quickly and have them yelp in frustration for the rest of the hour he was there.

  It was so much more relaxing for both dog and volunteer to take their time and go for a decent walk.

  At first Miles’s thoughts kept returning to the Perez case. What had he missed? Was there something obvious he and Ro were missing?

  Ro.

  That was what really had him jacked up. His protective leanings were on overdrive whenever he was near her. Worse when he didn’t have a handle on where she was.

  This was new to him.

  He wasn’t the controlling type—he knew that about himself from the other relationships he’d had with women. The constant fear for her welfare was coming from this blasted case. He wanted the coroner to wrap it up neatly and say it was definitely suicide, the result of wartime post-traumatic stress.

  But the coroner said he couldn’t rule out foul play. Beau stopped to sniff a mushroom.

  “No, Beau.” He gave a snap on the leash to make sure Beau understood to leave mushrooms alone and they kept walking.


  “You’re a great dog, Beau.”

  Beau responded with an upright wag of his tail and a beseeching glance over his shoulder.

  Miles would’ve felt better if Ro kept a weapon in her home, but she’d made it clear that away from the navy, she had nothing to do with guns. She said her baseball bat next to her bed was enough.

  Miles wasn’t so sure.

  * * *

  RO MADE GOOD on her promise to herself to get a six-miler in. While she was running, her cell phone vibrated. She always took her phone with her for security purposes, but didn’t answer calls when she was in the middle of a run.

  She had to break her own rule since the investigation was ongoing. Slowing to a brisk walk, she answered.

  “Roanna Brandywine.”

  “Commander Brandywine? It’s Master Chief Reis.”

  Ro paused on the running trail, her breath slowing as her mind raced. What if the accusation Anita Perez had made was true? What if Master Chief Reis had an affair with Perez?

  “Is everything okay, Master Chief?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m very sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but we need to talk. About Perez.”

  “Okay. When and where—you name it, Master Chief.”

  “I think it’s better if it’s not in Oak Harbor. Can you meet me in Coupeville for dinner at one of the more crowded restaurants?”

  “Sure.”

  “I know you’re working on this with Warrant Officer Mikowski. It’d be fine if he came, as well.”

  Ro looked at the bark of a fir tree next to the path. She scraped the ground with her running shoe. Of course Master Chief Reis knew she and Miles were on the case. She was the command master chief. It was her job to know everything.

  “We’ll see you at the Dock, then, or in front of it, say around five?”

  “See you then. And, um, Commander?”

  “Yes?”

  “Please, I beg you, don’t tell anyone else about this meeting. It’s important or I wouldn’t be taking up your time.”

  “Got it. No problem, Master Chief. See you later.”

  Ro disconnected and immediately punched in Miles’s number.

  “Mikowski.” Besides his garbled voice she heard barking in the background.

  “Miles, it’s Ro. Can you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear.” No explanation for all the ambient noise.

  “Master Chief Reis just called me. She wants to meet us for dinner in Coupeville later.”

  She heard him whistle. “Is that so?”

  “Yeah, I thought the same thing.” She could read his mind—the truth of this case was going to come to them if they were lucky.

  “Okay, thanks, Ro. I’ll call you later to confirm the time.”

  “Bye.” She checked her phone, then glanced up at the sky that glimmered through the canopy of trees.

  “What next?” she asked the forest.

  * * *

  RO PADDED INTO the kitchen to get a cup of tea to drink while she knitted. As she went to get the milk, she saw her sister’s writing at eye level.

  We went to enjoy the day in Victoria. We plan to stay overnight. Don’t worry about us—we’ll be back sometime during the day tomorrow. Love, Krissy and Dick

  “As if I’d worry about either of you.” She stared at the dry-erase board on her refrigerator where Krissy had scrawled her note.

  Worrying is your main occupation, she told herself.

  Her phone rang.

  “Ro, it’s me. We still on for the dinner with Reis?”

  She put down her knitting and stretched as she answered. After her long run she’d come back to an empty house. A long hot shower and nap, followed by knitting, had made this a perfect day.

  “Yes, at five o’clock, down in Coupeville. At the Dock restaurant. Reis was very clear that she wanted both of us there, and asked that we not tell anyone else.”

  “Like we would. She knew we were both on the investigation, huh?”

  “Of course she did. She sits right next to the commodore’s office. I’ll bet she knows things that would make our toes curl.”

  “I know ways to make your toes curl.”

  Before she figured out what to do about her body’s instant reaction, he laughed.

  “Teasing, Ro. I’m just teasing.”

  “Are you going to meet me there, or do you want me to drive?” Ignoring Miles was her best tactic.

  “No, I can drive. It’s okay to let someone else take the wheel, you know.”

  “Maybe, but you always drive.” She took a deep breath. “Hey, if you want, why don’t you drive to my place and park here? I’ll drive us from here.” Her voice shook a bit, whether from the chill of the cool spring air or the anticipation of seeing Miles again, “off duty,” she didn’t want to determine.

  “Fine. But give me some leeway on the arrival—I’ve got to get Lucky out for a quick run. I’ll need a shower after.”

  “I’ll see you when you get here. Be careful on the roads when you’re running.” She said it just to keep him on the line. She loved his voice.

  “Are you worried about me, Ro?”

  “No, I just want to make sure my partner in crime isn’t going to get injured and not be able to finish the investigation.”

  “Huh.” She heard his laughter, his teasing grin in her mind’s eye.

  “Miles, you promised to behave.”

  “I don’t remember doing that. Maybe I did yesterday afternoon, but that was then. It’s twenty-four hours later.”

  His banter made her feel like snuggling under her favorite merino wool blanket and listen to him for hours.

  “The problem is, Miles, that I can’t get involved. Not now, and not with you.”

  “Ro, Ro, you are too serious for your own good. I’ve got to get a move on, but I’ll be over soon, and when I show up I want you to be more relaxed. Otherwise, you might miss something important that Master Chief Reis tells us. I’ll see you later.”

  His voice was so much smoother than hers. Damn his EOD training!

  “Later.” She hung up. She wanted to pound her forehead on her desk calendar. She’d sounded like a schoolgirl.

  She shook her head.

  Krissy wasn’t her problem anymore. Ro had quit her role of the family savior when she’d made her move out here. Underscored by when she’d tossed that ring last week.

  Last week? It had only been three days ago. But it felt like so much longer, especially since she’d been working this case with Miles. Since she’d anticipated his touch.

  It always came back to the Miles issue. She laughed out loud in her kitchen. The Miles “issue”? She really had to get away from her rigid navy life. Maybe a romantic fling was in order.

  The dinner with Lydia Reis was work-related, but there was no need to look like a tired officer tonight. Besides, it would be better if she, Miles and Lydia blended in with the local crowd, just in case anyone from the wing was around or saw them.

  Ro put on dark, tight jeans paired with her high-heeled leather boots that made her feel like the kick-ass woman she’d thought the navy would make her. She opted for a light sleeveless lilac tank under the black leather jacket she’d treated herself to when her ship had pulled into port in Naples, Italy.

  Once she was dressed and ready, there was still a half hour before their meeting with Reis. She finished up another chemo cap while she waited for Miles to show up. This one was patriotic in red, white and blue. There were a lot of sailors with traumatic brain injuries who’d had their heads shaved for surgery and treatment. The female vets, especially, appreciated a nice hat to help their transition from baldness to a healthy head of hair.

  She’d just tied off the last of the hat when the doorbell rang.

  She
opened the door and stared at Miles as he did the same—at her.

  “Wow. The intel officer has become a woman.” He grinned.

  “I clean up well.” Her insides quivered with anticipation—it seemed to be her go-to reaction whenever she was within shooting distance of Miles.

  “Where’s your sis and her hubby?”

  “Gone to Victoria.” She met his curious expression. The twinkling in his eyes grew steadier and his gaze dropped to her mouth.

  “Good.”

  She met him halfway as he took her waist in his hands and pulled her to him. His lips landed on hers in a perfectly executed mission and his tongue wasted no time in making target.

  Pure sensory delight flowed over her scalp, down her torso and pooled in her pelvis, which she brought as close to Miles as possible. His hands went from her waist to her ass to her face. She felt cherished, desired and irresistible. No man had ever made her feel simultaneously sexy and...precious.

  Eager to demonstrate her gratitude and equally appreciative of Miles’s desirability, she allowed her hands to linger over his pecs before her fingers made a slow but deliberate journey down his abs to his belt, then into the front of his jeans.

  “Baby, I want to eat you up.” He grasped her hands and pulled them out of his pants, holding them in between their heaving chests. “Let’s blow off the meeting with Reis.”

  They both laughed if only to relieve the tension that was affecting them to the point of craziness.

  “We can’t.” She took a step back and took a deep breath. “I can’t. We have to keep this aboveboard.”

  “Oh, we’re aboveboard, sweetheart.” He looked at her with an intensity that made her toes curl. “Let’s go to dinner. How long did you say your family will be gone?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THEY SAT WITH buckets of mussels and empty bowls for the shells in front of them at a table that was removed from the main dining area. It overlooked the mussel-harvesting beds in Penn Cove and gave them a respite from the noise of the restaurant.

  Lydia Reis looked positively human in a pretty cardigan set and linen pants. Ro had never really spent a lot of time with her—their jobs only overlapped if one of Ro’s sailors got into trouble, which, thankfully, wasn’t a typical occurrence with the caliber of sailor needed for a high security clearance.