Navy Justice (Whidbey Island, Book 5)

by Geri Krotow

  “Forget that.”

  “It’s not that easy.” She breathed out a sigh of frustration. “I think we made the right decision. It’s probably better if I keep up the appearance of sticking to my usual routine. Even if I’m questioned, no one can prove you were in my house, and I won’t have anything to tell them.”

  “You know I’ll be at General Grimes’s.”

  “No, I won’t. The only thing I’ll know is that I dropped you off somewhere south of Coupeville, along the Old Farm Road. I won’t have any idea exactly where you are.”

  “Unless you’re right, and he does know something about the big guns behind the cell I’ve infiltrated.”

  “Yes.” She kept driving.

  * * *

  BRAD HAD BEEN in worse getaway situations than on the back floor of Joy Alexander’s crossover vehicle. The most damnable piece of this whole mess was that each moment he spent with Joy drew her deeper into the possibility of getting hurt.

  Risk was part of the life he’d chosen. And it was the same for the other team members, no matter what service or agency.

  Joy was different. Sure, she’d worn a uniform, had been a JAG. She’d taken the same oath of office he had, and since she’d signed up during wartime, she knew her life could be at risk, like that of any other sailor.

  She hadn’t signed up for this mission, though. He’d dragged her into it. After keeping her out of the worst of his disaster of a life after Norfolk, he’d shown up on her doorstep yesterday and all but forced her to help him.

  His hope that there’d ever be a right time for them was crushed by the knowledge that he’d been so selfish in going to her.

  Although there was no other JAG, no other person, he trusted as much as Joy.

  Shit. He was in deeper than he’d realized.

  “You okay back there?”

  Her voice had a catch in it that he remembered from Virginia. Whenever the case had her stymied or he hadn’t given her the answer she’d expected, her voice started to quaver the tiniest bit. He didn’t think anyone else noticed it, but he had.

  He’d noticed an awful lot about Joy.

  “I’m fine,” he replied. “Are you sure you know where Grimes lives?”

  “Well, sort of. I’m fairly certain it’s between two different developments, off the beaten path. I’ve been down here for parties with my knitting group.”

  He grunted to himself. The thought of lawyerly Joy Alexander looking all domestic as she held two needles and a piece of yarn contrasted with the woman who’d defended Farid with her entire legal arsenal.

  “I heard that.” Of course she had.

  “Knitting group is the new cocktail hour, you know.”

  “Make mine on the rocks.”

  “Very funny. Which brings me back to the book signing. I have to show up there, Brad. Too many questions are going to come up if I don’t. I never miss knitting group unless I’m sick—or when I had watch. Now I have a new job, so I was able to explain why I missed Emily’s signing in Oak Harbor last night. But the other gals will wonder what’s happened to me if I don’t show for her signing tonight.”

  He knew she was right, but he didn’t like the idea of—of what?

  Being away from her. Not having her nearby, within view.

  “Okay. After you drop me at Grimes’s, go to work. Go through the day as you normally would.”

  And forget you ever saw me.

  “I will. I should get the files by this afternoon.”

  “If General Grimes doesn’t have what we need, they’ll be my only chance. You still checking to see if anyone out there is watching you? Following us?”

  He studied her profile as she looked in her rearview and side mirrors before returning her focus to the road. Joy wasn’t classically beautiful; she was stunning. Her straight, uncompromising nose was balanced by her full lips. Lips that had been so soft under his.

  “Not that I can tell.”

  He half sat up and rested his head against the side of the passenger seat. He could see her profile, but he was still out of sight.

  “You’ve done enough for me, Joy. If you get what we need from the files, just report your findings to the base NCIS. They’ll be able to get the truth to the right people.”

  “Do you really believe that, Brad?” She turned to send him a no-nonsense glare, and his heart stopped as he saw tears glimmering in her eyes.

  “Watch the road, Joy.” He couldn’t allow himself to care for this beautiful woman, no matter how he felt about her. These were emotions he’d never experienced before. There was something intense between them, all right. That intensity was what had him on edge, even more than the fact that his cover might’ve been blown.

  Because the moment he let any emotion get in the way of a mission was the moment it went to hell.

  “Your fiancée, Brad—what happened there?”

  “She was killed. You read the reports before you signed my alibi.”

  “I did. I’m not asking how she died. What I mean is, why did you fall in love with her?” Only Joy would be asking him about his deep dark secrets while he crouched on the floor of her backseat.

  “I thought it was time for me to start the family life. I’d hit thirty, and I was the last single guy on my team.”

  “Fair enough, but what really attracted you to her?”

  “She needed me.”

  “Was she using before you met her?”

  “Yes. Look, Joy, I’m from a family of doctors. We’ve all got the caretaking gene, if you want to call it that. It’s a characteristic that’s ingrained in us. I went overboard with Marci, trying to heal someone who didn’t want to be healed. It was a relationship that never had a chance.”

  At his silence, she shook her head and he could feel her incredulity before she spoke again. “Did you tell her that?”

  “No. There was no point. I broke it off. I’d just realized that I’d agreed to marry her out of compassion or, rather, what I thought was compassion.”

  “But?”

  He flicked his thumb against the leather of her seat cushion several times.

  “But is the crux of it. My caring was really my attempt at playing God, thinking I could fix her, control her intake of drugs and booze.”

  “Why didn’t you mention any of this in Norfolk, Brad?”

  “It’s not that complicated. You were an officer.”

  And he’d been enlisted. Now that they were both free to pursue a relationship with each other, it didn’t matter. His life was too chaotic, and Joy’s was too...neat. Controlled.

  Bile rose in his throat at the reminder of his pain at finding out Marci was dead. And then to find out she’d been brutally murdered for less than fifty bucks worth of heroin...

  “Sorry for bringing it up again.”

  “No, I’m sorry, Joy. Getting you involved in my life is a big mistake.”

  “We’ve already had this conversation. Several times. Now, be quiet while I find the general’s house.”

  He couldn’t help Joy navigate, so he settled back onto the floor of the car, feeling his own self-loathing in every bone.

  * * *

  JOY KNEW OF four or five homes nestled in the backwoods area where she drove along a winding road. She was fairly certain one of them was General Grimes’s. He’d taken all the measures needed to keep his location private, avoiding social media and not appearing on any websites or internet lists. She hadn’t been able to find his address in various searches on her personal laptop, and didn’t want to use her work computer yesterday to look up any information related to the case.

  Thankfully, Whidbey had a small-town air, and she remembered hearing one or two of her knitting-group buddies mention a newly retired military bachelor who’d recently moved in.

  Not that she thought of General Grimes as a bachelor. The man was pure military leadership, the stuff history was made of.

  Having Brad so near, even on the floor of her car, was distracting. She’d never questioned her
driving skills before today.

  She braked in front of one driveway that looked promising, only to see the name “Farley” on the mailbox.

  “Are we there?” Brad’s voice rumbled up from the car floor.

  “Not yet. Sorry about the quick stop.”

  “No problem. My head’s battle-hardened, didn’t you know?”

  “I have no doubt.”

  She smiled but kept her gaze on the shoulder of the road, looking for the next mailbox. Feeling a sense of relief, she drew closer to a bright red and yellow mailbox with the unmistakable emblem of the US Marine Corps on its side. Even the reclusive General Grimes wasn’t above showing his pride.

  “I think I’ve found it.”

  “You’re not sure?”

  “As sure as I can be at the moment.” The homes on this stretch were all in a price range the average military pension could never afford. The pension of a retired flag officer, however, fit the bill. She swung onto the graveled road and concentrated on not hitting any of the potholes.

  Her initial exuberance deflated when she came grill-to-bar with a closed gate.

  “Where are we?”

  “Nowhere. We’re at the gate to the property—and it’s locked. I think I should get you past this point instead of what we planned.” She saw a call box and lowered her window. “Be quiet.”

  “Yes?” A gruff, familiar voice boomed through the tiny speakers.

  Pushing the red button, she spoke slowly and clearly.

  “General Grimes? This is Commander Joy Alexander. We worked together in Norfolk.”

  “What can I do for you?” It was him. She’d recognize the surly tone anywhere, even through a cheap intercom system.

  “I need to speak to—”

  “It’s Senior Chief Petty Officer Iverson, General. We served together in—”

  “I know who the hell you are. Come on up.”

  As the gate swung open, Joy turned in her seat to face Brad.

  “I thought you were keeping a low profile?”

  “We’re out of range of the road. No one can see me. Do you think he’s going to call the police or the TV stations?” Brad’s eyes glinted in the light that cut through the tree canopy. Once again Joy felt the deepest longing for him—and regret that they hadn’t met at some other time. But doing right by Brad was more important than her unshakable need for him.

  “No, of course not. Remember his disparaging remarks about the media when he was on the witness stand? I don’t know many officers who like the media, but his feelings toward reporters made me feel almost bad for them, even the obnoxious ones.”

  Brad laughed. “Yeah, he isn’t one to mince words. Joy?”

  “Yes?”

  Did he want to kiss her again? Because she wanted to kiss him. She only had to lean in, twist a little more in her seat...

  “Drive.”

  * * *

  THEY WERE STOPPED within a few yards by a man in full camouflage gear with a rifle in his hands.

  “Oh, my G—”

  “Roll the back window down, Joy.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “I know these guys. I’ve worked with them before.”

  Of course. One of the guards. She hit the button with her left index finger.

  “Ray, how you doing, man?”

  “That you, Brad?”

  Joy rolled her eyes as the men did a brothers-in-arms kind of greeting. She ignored the little twinge of envy at their natural understanding and camaraderie. She’d left that life behind, set sail on a different course.

  She knew she’d made the right decision.

  “We’re going up to see the general,” Brad said.

  “No problem.” The guard’s deep brown eyes assessed her, and Joy offered him a smile. She’d lowered the front passenger window, too. She counted two other guards walking around the area, all suited up similarly to Roy.

  “I’m Joy Alexander.”

  Roy nodded. “Nice to meet you. Stay safe.”

  “Will do.” She checked her rearview mirror to make sure Brad was done talking. His eyes met hers, and she was powerless against the attraction that unfurled deep within her.

  “Won’t they tell your boss they saw you here?”

  “Drive, Joy.” For the second time in five minutes she stopped thinking and trusted Brad’s direction.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE FAMILIAR TALL, lanky form of General Jeremiah Grimes, United States Marine Corps, Retired, stood at the bottom of a wraparound porch. He wore a bright, almost garish orange flannel shirt, and Joy wondered if he wasn’t hot in the September sun that slanted through the tall firs surrounding his A-frame. Even this early in the morning, the day was warming up.

  “General.” Brad shook the bald man’s hand as Joy took her time walking around the front of her car. She wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. Away from the energy these two men exuded.

  What was it with General Grimes? She’d had to interview him before he took the stand in Farid’s trial. General Grimes was a straight arrow; his career record revealed nothing but a stellar history as an infantry officer who’d dedicated his life to his nation. He’d never mentioned a family. She only knew these facts about him from reading his official biography. When he’d testified in Farid’s trial he’d disclosed no more than he’d had to.

  He’d been a pain in the ass to work with.

  On paper, and even in person, General Grimes represented the best of the US Marine Corps. The epitome of a military careerist.

  Yet he’d unnerved her with his tone, his air of patronizing tolerance. She’d thought he hated lawyers or women or both. She hadn’t cared; what she’d needed from him, she’d gained, and Farid had been freed.

  After a while she’d realized Grimes treated everyone the same way.

  His narrowed gaze landed on her, and she steeled herself to meet his eyes with the same cool expression. He didn’t corner the market on professional posturing.

  “General Grimes.”

  “You’re the JAG from Second Fleet in Norfolk, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Never figured I’d have to deal with you again.”

  Tough.

  “No reason to think you would.”

  “Actually, I’m the one who needs to talk to you, General,” Brad put in. “Commander Alexander has to leave for work.”

  “It’s Ms. Alexander as of noon tomorrow. I’m on the last of my terminal leave, and I started my civilian job this week. And I think it’s a good idea for me to stick around for a while, until I need to report in.” She shot Brad what she hoped was a look he’d understand.

  Shut up and let me be an extra set of ears for you.

  “Why don’t you both come in and grab a cup of coffee? We’re not going to solve anything standing out here.”

  When Brad threw her a “what the hell are you doing?” frown behind the general’s back, Joy ignored him. He wasn’t the only one who could adapt to changing circumstances.

  They climbed the steps and entered the cabin. Walking on the polished pine floor, Joy looked around, taking in the high ceiling and Marine Corps memorabilia dotted throughout the great room. A sword and scabbard hung in an X over the mantel of a giant fireplace, the holder emblazoned with the US Marine Corps’ symbol—the world encircled by a snake.

  “You take it black?” The general’s question sounded more like an order, and Joy wasn’t about to refuse, GERD or not.

  “Thank you.” She lifted the chipped mug with Quantico stamped on it to her lips. The coffee smelled strong and delicious.

  Brad helped himself to the second mug, also well-worn, with a map of Okinawa, Japan, on it. Joy ignored the urge to smile. General Grimes had commanded thousands of Marines, led them through hell and back throughout his career, and had a respectable pension, plus any personal savings he’d squirreled away. Yet he used nostalgic cracked pottery, surrounding himself with the bits and pieces of the life he’d left behind.

&nb
sp; “Thanks for letting us in, General. I really appreciate it.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? From what the security detail tells me, you have a lot to do with my safety. It’s unbelievable, isn’t it? The bastards can’t keep the war on their own turf. They’re trying to bring it here.”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “That’s the spirit. Now, what can I do for you two?”

  “Do you remember when we spoke after that first operational push in Afghanistan?” Brad leaned against the kitchen counter, as did the general. With their casual demeanor, they could’ve been discussing the Whidbey weather and not a mission that had changed the course of so many lives.

  “Yeah.” The general took a sip.

  “Can you remember any of the debrief—anything my teammates and I told you about what we experienced?”

  “That was a long time ago.” Grimes set his mug down.

  “We need to know whatever you remember, General.” Joy wondered if Grimes thought she was afraid of him. She wasn’t. He was simply a product of his training and came off as a tough guy. There had to be a real human being in there somewhere.

  He awed her, to be truthful. Not that she’d ever admit it.

  “We’ve already done this, right? During the trial in Norfolk?”

  She shook her head. “No, this isn’t about Farid. He’s still free, in the Witness Security Program. Are you aware of anyone he would have known who’d still want to hurt you? Or Brad?” She gestured toward Brad, in case General Grimes only knew him as Chief Iverson.

  The general nodded and took in a deep breath. “Have a seat.” He pointed to his kitchen table. Once they were seated, he looked each of them in the eye for several seconds.

  “I was afraid it would come to this,” he said in a stage whisper. “If not with that campaign, then with another one. The world’s gotten smaller.”

  It was all she could do not to roll her eyes. The general had a serious case of retired flag officer syndrome with these theatrics.

  “Of course I know who’d want to get even with you. So do you, if you think about it.”