Love Runs Deep

by Gail Chianese

  Talk about melodramatic, Hutch. It’s a friggin’ week, not a life sentence.

  He looked up into Reece’s expectant eyes. “I’ll do what I can to keep the limelight away from her.”

  Keith had kept quiet during the conversation, which had surprised him, given his earlier offer to jump straight to Nic’s defense against him.

  “I’ve got get ready for work.” He headed out of the room, mumbling what sounded like dumbass to Kyle.

  He’d have to ask later if he meant for agreeing to stay away or what.

  Reece and Kyle spent a few minutes discussing Stone’s game plan and Kyle’s response to the accusation. Should he keep quiet, make a statement to the media, find a witness to clear his name, or get a lawyer and take a chance they’d do their job.

  Nothing like playing Russian roulette with his freedom and future.

  He saw Reece to the door and returned to his spot on the couch, no longer interested in getting out for the day. If convicted, the judge could toss him in jail for up to twenty-eight years, bust him to the lowest rank, take all his pay, and then give him a dishonorable discharge.

  He needed to find someone to clear his name ASAP.

  Grabbing his cell, he shot off a text to both Mace and Bryant and told them he needed their help. Since they were still on the boat, they might have heard talk that could help or question the crew for him. The Group would do their own investigation, but he couldn’t sit on his haunches and do nothing with everything in the balance.

  Keith came out of the bedroom, his trusty backpack swung over his shoulder, the cat in his arms. “How much trouble are you in?”

  “I don’t know yet. How much of that did you hear?”

  “All of it.”

  “And?”

  Keith sat the cat down, hitched his pack higher on his shoulder, hanging on with one hand. “And nothing. You’d never betray Nic like that. I know it. She knows it. I’m in your corner, bro. Whatever you need.”

  Kyle stood. He clamped a hand on Keith’s shoulder, his throat tight with emotion at his brother’s words. “Thanks. I won’t make the same mistake as last night again. The same goes for you—whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

  “Great, cause I could use a ride to work.”

  Kyle laughed at his brother’s smirk. Should have seen that coming.

  “Yeah, give me a minute.” The phone rang and Kyle grabbed it.

  “Lieutenant Hutchinson? This is Commander Williamson. I need you to meet me at my office in the Group 2 building as soon as possible. If you need a ride, I can send an escort.”

  “Not necessary, sir. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  He hung up and looked at Keith. “Let the games begin.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tired and cranky didn’t even begin to cover Kyle’s mood. He could take on a grizzly and win. Throw in hunger, as he hadn’t eaten anything except a bowl of cereal six hours ago, and the fact that his freaking car AC decided it wanted to blow out lukewarm air on the hottest day of the year. So, yeah, call him Kyle the Grouch.

  He slammed the car door shut and headed across the hot pavement of his apartment complex, wanting nothing more than a cold beer, a cold slice of pizza, and fifteen minutes under the spray of a cold shower. Maybe then he’d be fit for humankind.

  Thank goodness Keith was at work. The mood he was in, he’d probably bite the kid’s head off for breathing. A couple of hours of peace was exactly what he needed to get his head clear and his mood out of the black.

  “Excuse me?” A pretty blonde with a microphone and a guy toting a camera approached. Kyle held up his hand and kept walking. “Kyle Hutchinson? Lieutenant Kyle Hutchinson? Amanda Clarkson with Channel Four News. We’d like to talk to you about the case against Petty Officer Stone videotaping Lieutenant Lily Riley aboard the USS California and your role in the incident.”

  He counted to ten and forced his hands to relax.

  “You’ll need to talk the base public affairs office. I have no comment.”

  He kept walking. His CO and the investigator were crystal clear; he was not to talk with anyone about the investigation, especially the press. He’d actually snorted with laughter at their instructions. Like he’d talk to the media. He didn’t even do PR work under the best of circumstances. Some people wanted to be in the spotlight, be the poster children of the Navy. Not him; he simply wanted to do his job and do it well, advance as far as he could, as fast as he could so that when he hit twenty he could retire and start a second career doing whatever he wanted.

  Right about then running a bar on some unnamed beach in the tropics sounded like heaven to him.

  “Lieutenant Hutchinson, did you instruct Petty Officer Stone to make that tape?” the reporter persisted.

  “No … comment.” It killed not to answer. Would Nic understand when she saw the news clip? Would she care or believe him even if he had answered? Speaking of people seeing the news, he’d better call home before the bullshit made its way to his mom. That’s the last thing she needed with everything going on with Kenny and her heart.

  “Lieutenant, how many other women have you and Stone made videotapes of?” The woman stuck the microphone in his face, while the cameraman blocked his path.

  Holy cripes. If he followed protocol he’d sound as guilty as hell to the world. Say none and it made it sound like he was defending Stone. The CO was going to have his nuts on a chopping block for disobeying his orders come Monday morning. Kyle stopped and looked the reporter in the eye.

  “I can’t speak for Petty Officer Stone. As for myself, the answer is none. If you have any other questions, you’ll need to direct them to the PAO. If you’ll excuse me.” He stepped around the camera and kept walking.

  She caught up. “Why is Stone saying he was following your orders?”

  Vindictive jerk. “No comment.”

  He didn’t know how they found out where he lived, but in case they hadn’t actually gotten his apartment number he didn’t want to lead them to his front door. He stopped abruptly and the camera guy ran into him, mumbled sorry and backed up a few steps.

  “I’m hot, tired, and we’re done,” Kyle said.

  “Is it true that Stone worked for you?” the reporter asked.

  “No comment.”

  “How did you learn about the video if you didn’t have anything to do with the creation of it?”

  “No comment.”

  A couple that lived across the hall from him scooted around the three of them, ducking their heads so the camera wouldn’t catch their faces on film, but not before he caught their confused and horrified looks.

  “Is it true that you’re dating the victim, Lieutenant Riley?”

  It took the effort of a saint—something he’d never been accused of—not to tell the reporter where she could stuff her microphone at the mention of Nic’s name and their relationship. He didn’t know who her source was, but they'd better remain anonymous or he’d be tempted to toss them into the middle of the Thames River with an anchor strapped to their ankle. As he’d used up his share of restraint and then some, temptation was a sure bet as the winner.

  “No comment,” he gritted through clamped teeth.

  “Lieutenant Hutchinson, don’t you think people deserve to know the full truth? Don’t you want them to know your side?”

  She had no idea.

  “What I’d like is for you to respect my privacy and rights and the Navy’s request that you contact the Public Affairs Office for comment. I know you have a job to do, but I have orders to follow.”

  Without another word, he turned and walked off. Not to his apartment, as he was sure the little hungry shark would just follow him and shout more questions through the closed door and drive him and his neighbors crazy. Following the path that led from his building around the complex to the main building, past the pool, tennis courts, dog park and through the playground he took his time. It had to be around a hundred
and ten, or more with a humidity factor pushing the heat to a thousand and twenty or more.

  If Lady Luck could cut him a break, the duo would give up and he could go enjoy that beer, pizza and shower. Rounding the corner he said a silent thank you when their van was gone and he bounded up the stairs to his apartment.

  The door opened before he could slide the key in.

  “I thought those two would never leave.” Bryant left the door open and dropped into the chair and picked up a beer.

  Mace came out of the kitchen with a bowl of chocolate gelato and took up residence on the couch.

  “Make yourself at home.” Kyle tossed his keys on the table and headed to his room, where he stripped and walked into the shower. Ten minutes later he was dressed and had a beer in his hand.

  “When did you two get here?” Kyle asked.

  “About ten. Your fan club pulled up right behind us. How did it go with the interview?” Mace stretched, pushing Kyle further down the couch and clasped his hands behind his head.

  “Like you’d expect. Bare room with me cuffed to a chair and a single bare bulb swinging overhead. Bad cop, stale coffee, lots of answering the same questions over and over topped off with a little waterboarding for fun. Then cut me loose with orders not to talk to anyone.”

  “Man, you have all the fun, Hutch.” Bryant flashed him a playful grin trying to lighten the mood.

  “Hey, if you want I can tell them you were the mastermind. I’m not greedy. I’ll share in the fun and be sure to tell them the only way to get you to talk is with electrotherapy.”

  “Nah, I’m good man.”

  They hashed out theories on why Stone had named him and what the game plan would be going forward.

  “I’ll do what I can, maybe enlist the COB or Boone to listen for chatter among the crew.” Mace paused for a moment. “If Stone shared his plan, and I’m betting he couldn’t keep it to himself, someone will talk. Since I did the initial investigation I’ve already gotten a message to report in first thing Monday to talk to Williamson—”

  “Me too. Got it right after the reporter showed up.” Bryant reached down and picked up the cat to settle her in his lap. Spoiled thing. His roommate wouldn’t know what to do when he returned from patrol and found out the Princess had actually turned social. “Do you think he suspects that because we were roommates that all three of us were in on the deal?”

  Both guys snorted in response.

  “What has Nic said about all of this?” Mace asked, ignoring Bryant’s question.

  “Not a lot. She doesn’t believe it. Her brothers have warned me off of her, at least until the dust has settled down and the trial is over.” The pizza he’d been craving turned to cardboard in his mouth and he tossed the paper plate onto the table.

  “Did she agree to that plan? Because from what Cherise told me, Nic has a habit of ignoring her family’s wishes and usually does the opposite.” Bryant’s strokes had Princess PITA purring like a racecar and Kyle made a mental note to keep an eye on her when he left. She might be ready to defect.

  “I haven’t talked to her since the suggestion was delivered. Doesn’t matter if she likes it or not, until my name is cleared and the media hounds find someone else to sniff around, her invitation to Casa Hutchinson is rescinded.”

  She’d see his reason and agree and it couldn’t be any worse than being locked in a tin pig for weeks, being within reach and not being able to touch her. At least this go around was only seven meager days and they wouldn’t be bumping into each other left and right and front and back, for that matter. A week was a picnic.

  * * *

  By lunchtime on Monday exhaustion threaten to knock Nic on her butt. She’d been on the run since arriving at oh-six-hundred. There was no reason for her to get up with the sun or report in almost two hours early, except she’d gotten tired of counting sheep. Meditating hadn’t done a darn thing except prove her mind didn’t know how to relax and the chamomile tea she’d drank at bedtime had multiplied in volume and caused her to get up and pee seven times throughout the night.

  Everything she’d need to do for the next three days was done and the XO had told her to get lost as his inbox was overflowing and he didn’t need any more work to sign off on. Instead of leaving and going back to her room to nap, or just curling up in her bunk on the boat, she went in search of Mace and Bryant.

  Both were in their stateroom/office poring over reports.

  “Hey guys, how’s it going?” She leaned into the doorway, effectively blocking them both in, which was a good thing because they both looked like startled deer ready to bolt at the sound of her voice.

  “Good, just getting ready for work-ups. You ready to go back out?” Mace had swiveled around to study her. Not in a sexual, perverted, I’ve-seen-you-naked kind of way, more like he was looking for signs of stress. Couldn’t say she blamed him. She didn’t really want to be trapped underwater with someone having a nervous breakdown either.

  She gave his question serious thought before answering. Both had a right to know if she wasn’t up to par. Not only her safety depended on her being honest, but so did that of the crew. The panic attacks were fewer and farther between when she used the base gym. Most days she held her head high as she walked through the Exchange shopping or the Commissary getting groceries. Only every now and then did she question a look or feel the tightness in her chest. Although she hadn’t managed to hang out in the public areas of the barracks when others were around, nor could she stop herself from sprinting down up the stairs when she heard voices or encountered others.

  So stupid.

  But it was getting better. She was getting better and she’d win this battle yet, it just might take a little longer than she’d originally anticipated.

  Both men sat, waiting for her answer.

  “Honestly, I think I am ready for patrol. I can’t let what Stone did jade me or worse, stand as my baseline for how I judge others.” Saying it was one thing, putting it into action was whole other challenge.

  “Let us know what we can do to help,” Bryant offered.

  “Thanks. By the way, did either of you talk to Kyle this weekend?”

  She cringed inside. Why couldn’t she have just kept the conversation work related? Now she sounded like an insecure girlfriend checking up on her guy.

  “Uh, no not me. You, Mace?”

  Boy, Bryant was a lousy liar.

  “I think he said something about heading out of town. Maybe checking out Block Island or the beaches down on Long Island.” Mace picked up the report he’d been working on and glanced down at the paper.

  “Guess that means you didn’t hear about the latest development and Stone’s accusation then?” Her gaze bounced back and forth watching the two of them sweat as they racked their brains, probably trying to remember what they were supposed to say to her.

  “Yeah.” Mace recovered first. “We got called in for questioning this morning. Look, Nic, I know you’re worried about him, but he’s not in the brig or anything. His command probably has him lying low until this is cleared up. Give him a few days and I’m sure he’ll call.”

  Just as she suspected. Her brothers got to Kyle.

  Dirty-rotten, overprotective, pains in her rear.

  Well, if they thought they could pull her strings and treat her like a puppet, they’d better think again.

  “No, I’m not worried. Not about the accusation.” She picked at the doorframe, not meeting their eyes least they see that she was lying. “He and Keith… well, it doesn’t matter now.” She left them with their reports, grabbed her bag and checked out for the day, courtesy of the XO. The sun shone overhead, a cool breeze was blowing and she was in the mood for a little Mexican and then maybe some beach time.

  An hour later she sat in what was becoming her regular corner table while waiting for Keith to finish up his shift. She’d popped in one night on her way home from shopping, not knowing Keith was working, and he’d a
sked her to wait around until he got off. Turned out, the kid was lonely and concerned about his brother back home, his mom, and didn’t have a clue how to talk to Kyle.

  Knowing what it was like to be the new kid in town, she’d given him her phone number and told if he needed to talk to call. He’d texted her his schedule and she’d came by a couple of times at the end of his shift or for a couple of minutes during his break. They’d generally sit in this same booth or outside and talk about nothing in particular or life in the Navy, and once in a while his family.

  Last time he’d brought up his twin, he’d been worried about the case against him and that he might never see Kenny again. Apparently the guy he’d gotten mixed up with was seriously bad news.

  “Where have you been all weekend?” Keith slid into the chair across from her and set his lunch on the table. “You hungry? I’ll split this with you or order up your favorite for you.”

  Just what her hips didn’t need…more fast food.

  “I’m good. My family was in town. What’s going on with you? You look happier than when I saw you last.”

  Which would be when he and Kyle were shouting at each other last Friday night.

  Keith brought her up to speed about the turn of events with Kenny and his and Kyle’s discussion Saturday morning. When he hesitated in his story, she gave him a little nudge.

  “Were you there when my brother showed up? Want to swap?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “Nah. Reece is a little too intense for me.”

  “Don’t let him fool you. He’s really a big pussycat…with claws and fangs and sometimes smelly breath and feet.”

  She had him laughing, which had been her goal. “I’m glad you and your brother made up. That’s what I really came by to find out. Things between Kyle and I might get a little weird. This video case—”

  “He told me about the accusation,” he interrupted.

  “Yeah, there’s that, but I don’t know. Call it women’s intuition. I think we’re about to sail through some choppy seas and it may take us a while to reach calm waters again. Whatever happens between your brother and me, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m your friend and if you need me, call me.”