by Dale Mayer
“And what if they were just trying to stop somebody from tracking them down?” Jackson said. “Maybe they hoped they’d hit you and took off only to find they had someone on their tail faster than they expected and realized they couldn’t outrun the military rig?”
“Nobody hates me enough to do that,” she stated boldly. “I have great friends.”
“But you didn’t contact any of them, did you?”
She groaned. “No, and now I wish to hell I hadn’t contacted you.”
“If you get hurt because of this, you’ll be damn glad you did,” he said. “If you die because of this, I’ll be more than pissed.”
She chuckled. “If I’m dead, I won’t care, will I?”
“But I will,” he growled. “So think of somebody other than yourself.”
That silenced her. Pain and shock slid inside her gut. She was now forced to consider how her brothers would feel if they received a phone call saying she’d been murdered. Finally she gave Jackson the truth. One she rarely admitted herself.
“You know what the mentality is in the military.” Her voice was soft, quiet. “We’re supposed to be tough. We’re supposed to be know-all capable people. I didn’t want anybody to think less of me.”
This time it was his turn to be silent for a moment. “I don’t think this situation applies,” he finally said, obviously trying for a neutral tone of voice. “It’s one thing if you’re on a mission or you’re training. Obviously you don’t want to appear weaker or to be less than the others. But you are a woman alone in your apartment, and somebody not only has your phone number but now knows where you live. The world over has seen some of the most capable women taken down just because they were physically smaller or caught unaware by a man who was more determined and of a darker nature than they could have suspected. I don’t want somebody to find you dead in your bed because a predator got into your apartment when you thought he couldn’t.”
“That’s not a thought guaranteed to make me sleep tonight,” she snapped. “How about we talk about sunshine and roses instead, so I’ll at least get some sleep.”
“How about we talk about reality.”
She could hear him take a deep breath and then another and another one.
“Okay, look. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to terrify you,” he said in a more persuasive voice. “But I want you to be sensible. I don’t want you taking any chances. And I don’t want you brushing off any of these incidences as not being important. Especially in lieu of what went on earlier today.”
“Okay, fine. I won’t,” she said. “I’m back at work tomorrow morning anyway.”
“Good,” he said, “because I’ve got some days off. I’ll meet you at the navy garage tomorrow. I’d like to see what’s happening with that rig.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to tell you anything because I don’t know if the rig will still be there when I arrive,” she said. “I work as a mechanic. I’m not the brass. And, when they move things around, we’re just puppets on a string.”
“I know,” he said. “But you need to also know that I was at the hospital tonight, and we already had an incident there.”
She bolted upright. “What kind of an incident?”
“A huge gunman walked into the driver’s hospital room. I managed to stop him from shooting Max, but, in the process, I got into a hell of a fight. I ended up losing him,” he said in disgust. “Believe me. I’m not feeling too decent about my own defensive techniques.”
“Hand to hand?”
“Kind of. I took a bullet burn across my thigh, but it’s minor, and a boot to the jaw, and, with people racing to our assistance, he booked it. I did manage some good moves on him, and he’ll feel our dustup as much as I am,” Jackson said with a note of humor. “He’ll be damn sorry he picked me. But I’m pissed I didn’t get him myself. I did search, but there was no sign of him. The security videos are being studied, but, even if they see him, it won’t tell them much—other than he is a giant of a man. He had on a lab coat and a black ski mask.”
“Jesus,” she said. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I am. Just goes to show you that even a guy my size can sometimes come up against someone even bigger.” He sighed. “I’m pissed he got the better of me.” And then he chuckled. “So was Max. He was awake and wondering why the hell somebody would try to kill him in the hospital.”
“They should have had security twenty-four hours a day on them.”
“They did until the brass talked to him. They figured it was just an ambush, and he happened to be the unlucky fly caught in the web.”
“I wonder if they still believe that,” she said. “So how bad is the bullet burn?”
He dismissed it. “It’s nothing, just a scrape. I’d have taken a bullet right through my leg if it meant I’d caught him.”
“Sorry.”
“Nah, it’s okay. I was protecting Max. That’s what counts. Unfortunately, by the time I got the door open again, the intruder had already bolted down the stairs. My fault but he won’t get a second chance.” Jackson’s voice was determined. “That’s enough of that crap. And, from now on, Max has a guard.”
“And the other guy?”
Jackson’s voice dropped lower. “Chances are he would have gotten a bullet too, but he’s in a coma, hasn’t woken up from the accident yet.”
“And maybe that fact alone saved him,” she said softly. “Because, if he’d made any move, he probably would have taken a bullet right in the head.”
“That’s quite possible,” Jackson admitted. “But the bottom line is, neither man can be left unattended now. Somebody is after them. We don’t know who, and we don’t know why, but we have to make sure the attackers don’t get a second chance.”
She agreed.
And then he said it. “What we also have to make sure of is that the guy who came to your door tonight is not connected. Because it just occurred to me that, if they tried to take out those two, maybe they’re coming after you as well.”
*
“Not likely.” Click.
Jackson frowned, not appreciating her response. He slowly replaced his phone in his pocket and relaxed on his big easy chair. They’d been shot at on the road, the backup team attacked in a hospital and then an intruder had come to her apartment. How could she not consider these were all connected? It didn’t mean they were for sure, but it was definitely something that had to be investigated.
He thrummed his fingers on the armchair for a long moment while he thought about his options. Would she sleep tonight? Was she even safe tonight? She’d shown she was capable of handling the situation herself, but he knew everybody, no matter how strong or how good, when coming up against a faster or bigger or more subtle foe—or multiple foes—or someone who had the element of surprise, greatly limited what she could do.
He grabbed his phone from his pocket and dialed her number. When she answered, her voice hard, angry, he snapped right back at her, “Do you have a couch?”
Surprise made her gasp. “Yes, I do. Why?” she asked.
“Because I’m coming over and spending the night on it.” He hopped to his feet and walked into the kitchen, where he snatched up his keys. His wallet went into his pocket next, and, just for good measure, he grabbed a jacket. As he walked out the door, he locked it and said, “We’re not taking any chances.”
“You don’t need to come here,” she said in exasperation. “I told you that he’s gone.”
“What if he returns?”
Silence.
“Can you really tell me that you’ll sleep tonight?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, fatigue threading through her voice. “But I sure as hell was hoping to.”
“Which is why I’m coming over. If nothing else, having me on the couch will make you sleep better.”
“What are you now, a knight-in-shining-armor? Do you lie on the couches of every damsel in distress around the world?”
“That’s a
lot of couches.” He laughed. “If anything happened to you, I’d be kicking myself forever. And I can’t live with that.”
“That guilt complex of yours needs to be pruned down,” she said, her voice gaining strength.
Not that he cared. He was already in his Jeep. As he pulled up at the corner, he said, “One thing though.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“What’s your address?”
At that, she laughed, great big waves of laughter, as if not only was what he’d said funny but she had needed the release. Finally she settled and gave him her address. “You know you don’t need to come here though, right?”
“You know I’m going to anyway, right?”
“I live on base. How dangerous can it be?”
“I live just off base, and you’ve already had an intruder once tonight. What do you mean, how dangerous can it be?” he asked in exasperation. “Did you contact security? There’s a whole military police force at your disposal, you know.”
“I know that,” she said. “And, no, I didn’t call them.” With that she hung up.
He tossed the phone onto the bench seat beside him and drove in the direction of the base. He cleared security and headed toward her apartment, which should be close to the main entrance. He parked in the visitor parking area and walked to the building, realized she was on the ground floor, adding to the danger level, and approached the main entryway to the complex. Checking the resident roster hanging nearby, he rang her door bell. There was a quick buzz, and she let him in.
He walked in her apartment building. She was waiting for him outside her front door, her arms crossed against her chest, her shoulder on the door jamb.
“You don’t look like a knight-in-shining-armor,” she said with a quirky grin. “No armor.”
“Just a thick skin,” he said good-naturedly. “Particularly when I’m around people like you.”
She shrugged. “I told you that you didn’t need to come.”
He motioned at her to get out of the way. She turned around and walked back into her apartment. He followed, closing the door, noting she had only a simple dead bolt. “You could use better security.”
“Tell the super. It’s not like anybody thinks we’re in a danger zone.”
“No. There’s an awful lot of base housing. It’s quite a nice area.”
“It is,” she said. “I’ve been happy here for a year.”
“When did you stop being happy?”
She shot him a look. “What makes you think I stopped?”
He chuckled. “You haven’t been sleeping well for a long time.”
She spun around, fisted her hands on her hips and growled. “Are you kidding me? How would you know that?”
“When I first saw you today. Bags under your eyes, that weary expression on your face, your shoulders slumped instead of standing straight up like somebody who jumps out of bed every morning with a great attitude to start the day,” he said.
She shook her head. “That’s just reading too much into it. Maybe I broke up with a boyfriend, and I’m really upset. Or maybe I’m dealing with some sort of a flu or cold?”
“It’s possible,” he said. “But, on the other hand, chances are I’m correct. Am I?”
She glared at him, walked to the closet and pulled out a blanket, which she tossed onto the couch. “I’m only giving you a blanket because I feel like it,” she muttered.
“Appreciate it,” he said to her retreating back as she walked into her bedroom and closed the door.
He figured from her attitude that he had been right. That wasn’t cool because, if there were any other incidents, he needed to know her backstory.
Chapter 5
She woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed. She lay in bed for a long moment, wondering what was different. She remembered the intruder, and how she had tossed and turned in bed afterward, trying to get to sleep and not being able to.
Jackson. She had to smile at the thought of the big guy stretched out on her small couch. She really should have warned him. It would turn him into a pretzel in a very short time. On the other hand, she should be nice to him, at least feed him breakfast, because he was responsible for her getting some sleep last night. He was right; she hadn’t been sleeping well for days.
Now she wasn’t sure what to do. She couldn’t see how her visitor could be connected to the ambush-related incidences, but enough crazies were in this world that she couldn’t be too sure. Being shot at and then having an intruder at her apartment in the same day had played on her nerves. The scenario hadn’t drained from her mind until she realized Jackson really was stretched out on her couch, in protective mode. She hopped out of bed, had a quick shower and dressed.
As she walked into the kitchen, she found he wasn’t on the couch at all. He’d stretched out on the floor. She tiptoed as quietly as she could into the kitchen to make coffee.
His deep growly voice whispered, “Good morning.”
She stopped, walked back to the living room and stared down at the big man. “Good morning. You opted against the couch?”
“My back wasn’t meant to be twisted in as many tight corners as that thing would have insisted upon,” he said humorously.
She grinned. “I did think maybe you would end up pretzel-shaped this morning.”
“The least you can do is offer me coffee.”
She turned her back on him and returned to the kitchen. “I was just about to put it on.” She put a pot on to brew and then checked out the fridge. But she hadn’t done any shopping in days, so her offerings were meager. She did spy bacon and eggs. She slammed the fridge shut and turned to look around the corner. He was folding the blanket and laying it on the arm of the couch. “I have bacon and eggs,” she announced. “Not very much of either but enough for the two of us, if you’re up for it.”
His gaze lit with warm appreciation. “I don’t know any guy who would turn down that offer,” he admitted. “Do you have toast to go with it?”
“Of course. You want carbs, don’t you?” She opened a cupboard beside her. “I have a bit of bread. Actually the bagels look better.”
“Perfect. Toasted bagels to go with that would be great.” He disappeared into the bathroom.
She smiled and set about making breakfast. She had the bacon simmering nicely and two cups of coffee poured when he came back out, looking a little more refreshed and awake.
“Did you get any sleep?” she asked as she turned the bacon in the pan.
He came up behind her and sniffed the aroma coming off the stove. “I did indeed. The question is, did you?”
Feeling well enough to give him that point, she nodded happily. “Absolutely, thank you. I hadn’t realized how much it was all wearing me down.”
“You were shot at and then had an intruder all in the same twenty-four hours,” he said with a gentle squeeze of her shoulders. “It’s to be expected that sleep might be hard to come by.” He walked to the table, moving the coffee cups. “All set. Shall I set the table?” And with that they prepped the breakfast for the two of them.
As she sat down to their full plates, she said, “So what’s next on your agenda?”
“Grilling you,” he said cheerfully.
Instantly her stomach soured. She glared at him.
He motioned at the plate in front of her. “Eat. You need food.”
“Then don’t ruin it by saying things like that.”
“Okay,” he said amiably. And he plowed into his breakfast happily.
By the time they were done, she knew what was coming. It didn’t diminish her enjoyment of her breakfast, but it did make her wonder if there was a way to get out from under the discussion.
She glanced at her watch. “I need to leave soon.”
He reached over and covered her hand with his. “No, you don’t. We need to get some answers. Just a few questions.”
She groaned, then hopped up, grabbed the coffeepot and refilled their cups. “You’ve got less than ten minu
tes.” She sat back down, crossed her arms over her chest and waited.
He fired questions at her. “How long have you been bothered by this guy? How did it start? Do you have any idea who it is?”
The questions had enough variety that she realized he didn’t have a clue who and what was happening here. But then why would he?
She explained about her caller, that he’d been calling for a couple weeks now.
“Do you have the phone number he’s calling from?”
She pulled her phone out, brought up the number, showing it to him.
He wrote it down. “Have they increased in frequency?”
She nodded.
“Any reason to suspect your caller is your intruder?”
“No more reason to suspect that,” she said, “than to suspect it might be connected to the shooting yesterday. I don’t have any reason for any of this.”
He nodded. “Then that’s something we need to lock down. Any intuitive feeling or worry it might be somebody who has bothered you in the past? Anybody been a pain in the ass? Anything like that?”
She shook her head. “No, I’ve never experienced this before. Not the calls. Not the unwanted visitor.”
*
He wasn’t sure if he believed her, but she obviously wasn’t willing to offer any more information. He’d questioned her about the issue several times now, and she didn’t budge. He shrugged and stood. “Time for me to leave.” He grabbed his plate, washed it under the running water with some soap and a quick rinse, placed it in the rack, then repeated the motions with his cutlery and cup. When he was done, he finally turned around and said, “You won’t be working alone today, will you?”
She turned, startled, almost dropping her cup in the process. “Do you really think it’s that bad?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “You’re not really talking. All I have to go on is you—we were shot at on the side of the road, carrying out the duties of your job, and now you have an intruder where you live. Not to mention a stalker on the phone.” He gave her a hard glance. “From my perspective, that’s adding up to some serious danger.”
