Ready for Anything, Anywhere!

by Beverly Barton

  Mission accomplished in that arena, at least.

  He slid an arm around her waist as if he expected her to sprint before they reached the looming double doors of the social hall. “If you want to leave at any time, just say the word and we’re out of here.”

  “You’ve said that twice already. Once when you picked me up, and again at dinner.”

  And dinner had been so sweet, a back corner table with candlelight and hand holding. He was trying so hard.

  Or saying goodbye with a last supper.

  “Nikki, I mean it. You don’t have to do this.”

  Stopping by the front sign, she spun on her new heels with an old spunk that she refused to lose now. “Do you even want this to work? Or are you hoping walking in there will discourage me? You’ve talked about the genetics involved in patterns repeating themselves. Well you decided to break that cycle and sober up. Do you know how freaking outstanding that is? I think it’s tough and heroic.”

  Shaking his head, he swiped aside her hair blowing in her face. “You’re seeing things in me that don’t exist.”

  She blocked his hand. “Stop that condescending BS. I’m seeing things in you that you’ve never allowed yourself to see. You even tried to hide them from me, but I said heroic and I meant it.”

  Was he subconsciously trying to sabotage this before they even made it through the door? And why? She touched his elbow. “Are you going to walk with me into that meeting, or do I go by myself? Because like it or not, I’m involved with an alcoholic.”

  “Believe me—” his jaw went tight “—I understand that well or we wouldn’t be here. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up for some magic pill answer tonight.”

  “There you go with the fatalism again.” She couldn’t stop the irritation from seeping into her voice when she knew this wasn’t the time or place. Backing up the steps, she held up a hand. She refused to cry. “Hold on. I don’t want to fight with you before we even get started. Just … just let me freshen up.”

  And pull herself together.

  She spun away and shoved through the front double doors, head ducked as she made tracks past people to the restroom, Carson’s stark, resolved face imprinted in her mind, his oh-so-calm, logical—depressing—tone echoing. He almost sounded like Billy Wade Watkins, always expecting the worst.

  Wait.

  She gripped the edge of the sink, staring at her face paler than the white porcelain in her grip. Carson sounded like the child of an alcoholic, who’d numbed himself to expecting good things because then nobody could let him down.

  Ohmigod. Why hadn’t she seen the pattern before?

  Because she hadn’t been objective—like a teacher—when it came to Carson. Instead of picking a fight with him, she needed to hold firm and simply show him through her steadfast actions. He was right in saying she’d been unrealistic to expect everything to settle out because of one meeting.

  A toilet flushed, announcing an end to her solitary haven. She smiled in the mirror at the stranger stepping from the stall. Resolute and ready to find Carson, Nikki yanked open the bathroom door and into the now-packed entryway.

  So much for a small gathering. Where had all of these people come from? And why did so many of them look familiar?

  Billy Wade—along with his father. She hadn’t realized the teen’s father was getting help for his drinking, and gambling, too, apparently. Vic Jansen stood at their side in what seemed like a supportive role when she hadn’t even known Vic had a problem, either. Beyond them, more military acquaintances milled around.

  Had each of them been told to put on their perfect face when on base, as well?

  She’d been so judgmental of her home life problems growing up, never once realizing all the other military families in pain. drinking, gambling, even some parents supporting teenagers kicking a drug habit.

  How many times had she told her students she wasn’t looking for perfection, just their best effort? Something Carson needed to hear, as well, for both of them, because there would be no perfect reactions to all of this.

  Just a very human, fallible best effort.

  She retraced her steps through the lobby looking for him so they could enter the meeting together. She shouldered through, searching. She peeked into the gathering area, rows of folding chairs and a refreshments table, but no sign of Carson.

  Maybe he’d gone outside to take a cell call. She stepped through the double doors into the parking lot, her heels crunching on gravel as she pivoted to look.

  She bumped against someone, a hard-bodied guy. “Carson?”

  A hand clamped on her arm, steadying her as she came face-to-face with. Kevin Avery? His cologne stung her nose, his blond hair glinting under the street lamp. “What are you doing here?”

  Her question slammed around inside her brain, words spoken now and echoed in her mind from a night nearly three weeks ago.

  His grip bit into her flesh. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  The ground spun under her feet, memories ricocheting around inside her head. Memories of him, a man she’d once dated because he resembled Carson.

  She opened her mouth to scream, but he cut the shriek short with a hand clamped against her lips. Hard. Unrelenting. And horrifyingly familiar. She struggled, wrenching to the side, kicking out.

  Releasing her arm, his hand swung down. A dull pain crashed through the base of her skull, once, twice. The edges of the parking lot fuzzed, narrowing along with consciousness. Her dream-vision of the night Gary died now made total sense as she remembered.

  Kevin Avery standing over Gary Owens’s dead body.

  Where was Nikki?

  Carson peered over the crush in the corridor for the second time, having already checked the social hall. He’d only turned away for a minute to talk to Vic, and now he couldn’t find her. He’d even sent someone into the restroom to look for her. She couldn’t have left after she’d been so emphatic about staying.

  Damn. Damn. Damn it all, he didn’t like this one bit. Where was she and how could someone have plucked her from a group this large?

  He didn’t like the itchy premonition scratching along the back of his neck. They were in a public place, for God’s sake. He pushed through the crowd, making his way toward the double doors.

  Stuffiness and noise of the packed social hall gave way to the crisp night air and silence, no sounds other than the occasional whoosh of a passing car. Unease kinking tighter, he scanned the packed lot of empty vehicles all the way to his truck parked at the end with someone inside.

  He exhaled a long stream of relief into the freezing night. Through the back window, he could see Nikki’s outline. A stab of disappointment followed.

  She’d already given up?

  As quickly as the thought slithered into his head, he nixed it, making his way across the dormant lawn toward his Ford. He’d always been the one to walk away, not her. She’d taken a lot of grief from him in the past and still she’d given him another chance. A chance he didn’t deserve in any universe.

  If she was in the car, then something must have happened to upset her or she wasn’t feeling well. Either way, he needed to quit thinking about himself and get over there.

  She was right. He’d given up on the two of them before giving them a decent chance. He’d thanked her for trusting him, but what about returning the emotion?

  He’d been let down by his parents so many times, let down by adults who should have been there for a kid, somewhere along the way he had stopped putting faith in anyone when it came to relationships. Sure he was a delegation kind of guy at work, but there were tangible gauges of levels of success.

  No score guides existed when it came to this whole love gig. He’d told himself he loved her, but hadn’t done a thing right in committing. In order for this to work—and hell yes, he wanted Nikki, forever—then he needed to start giving one hundred percent.

  He slid into the driver’s side behind the wheel, but Nikki kept her face turned to look out. Damn.
He had some major backpedaling to do.

  “Nikki, listen, I’m sorry about earlier.” He stroked up her arm to cup her neck. Was she asleep?

  She sagged limply against the seat belt. Strangely slack, not even startling at his touch.

  The premonition blasted into full scale alert a second before a looming form rose from the backseat of his extended cab. Carson jerked, ready to launch, attack.

  A gun pressed to his forehead stopped him cold. Avery at the other end stopped him colder.

  “Major, I’m really sorry it’s come to this, but Nikki’s enjoying a little nap from a tap on the head.” The traitorous lieutenant shifted the gun ever so slightly until it pointed at unconscious Nikki. “Drive, or I’ll be having a piece of her while you watch.”

  Chapter 16

  No strange room or temporary amnesia this time. Even through the pounding in her head, Nikki recognized Carson’s scent and the sound of his well-tuned truck.

  And another cologne. Cloying. Hideously familiar.

  The rest mushroomed back to life in her brain. Kevin. In the parking lot. Her mind blazed with thoughts of the night Gary died … then everything went dark.

  Did Carson know? Had Kevin somehow stolen the truck?

  She started to open her eyes—then rethought. For the moment she would stay limp against the shoulder harness anchoring her to the heated seats until she figured out what was going on.

  “Avery—” Carson’s voice rumbled from beside her on the driver’s side “—you really don’t want to do this.”

  Just the sound of him filled her with love—and dread that he should be here at all. She’d prayed he was safe back at the church, searching for her, alerting the cops.

  Anywhere but here.

  “Nikki didn’t leave me any choice,” Kevin answered from behind her. “She kept digging for the memories.”

  “You killed Owens?” The shock in Carson’s voice echoed within her. Kevin and Gary were friends. Kevin seemed so clean-cut and honorable. Except hadn’t she just realized—how long since she’d been at the support meeting?—that military people had flaws and bad apples like anywhere else. Like the police force or other professions that as a whole pledged to protect.

  But ohmigod, this went beyond a simple problem.

  “Well, Major, I bet on a few games every once and a while to pay off my college loans. A top-notch education is important for getting ahead. You should understand that since your family could afford the best.”

  Kevin’s hot breath blasted against her hair as he moved closer to her. Did he have a gun? He must, or Carson would have taken him out.

  The truck shifted into a turn. “A Chief of Staff doesn’t have a gambling addiction and bash in people’s skulls.”

  Leather behind her creaked. “A Chief of Staff definitely doesn’t have the taint of a gambling addiction on his record—” Kevin’s words tumbled faster, angry “—and Owens was going to out me, just because he didn’t like my little sideline of taking bets to pay my college loans faster.”

  “You were a bookie?”

  It was all Nikki could do not to blurt her surprise, as well. Good God, how did he expect to keep that a secret? The guy really was an idiot—or so deep in his addiction he’d lost all sense of reason.

  “Owens was going to rat me out, something about loyalty to the program. Jesus, all I did was help a few of his buddies in the program make a little extra at the racetrack.”

  Avery had targeted Gambler’s Anonymous members? The guy truly was lower than slime. For money or his addiction or ambition, he’d sold his soul and bartered a few more along with it.

  “I couldn’t let that happen.” His tenor tones pitched higher, faster. High-strung and nervous could be an advantage if they caught him unaware, or a liability if he got twitchy. “I had everything planned perfectly for Nikki to take the fall for an accidental death, self-defense during a rape attempt. Even drugged up, she fought a little when I took her clothes off after Owens was dead. But that just helped set the scene even better.”

  It took everything inside her to stifle down a shudder of revulsion at Kevin’s hands on her while she was helpless. Her cheek even ached with the phantom memory of being slapped. Carson’s low growl, however, vibrated the seat.

  Kevin’s forearm slid around her neck, against her throat. “The Rohypnol I put in her drink should have made her forget everything, but almost right away word spreads around the squadron that she was getting some of her memory back. She must not have drunk enough of the Rohypnol or she has some funky body chemistry. Regardless, I couldn’t risk her remembering. I’d hoped the fall from her balcony would look like suicide from the stress.”

  “You tried to kill her?”

  Nikki stifled her gasp of relief that Gary hadn’t been untrustworthy after all, a fact she would savor later, but for now she needed to listen. And while she couldn’t think of any logical reason for Kevin to spill all—beyond egotistical gloating before he killed them—she appreciated the bit of peace his words brought.

  “I had the whole thing planned. I even sent her the fake e-mail from Gary to meet at Beachcombers. I sent one to Gary, too, with a half hour later arrival so I would have time to take care of her drink without him hovering over her like a lovesick nimrod. Thanks to that supersexy note, he really thought she wanted to get a VOQ room for a night together, and of course she was too drugged up to tell him otherwise. I’m so damn smart I even sent the e-mails from a base computer and the school library where Nikki tutors so they wouldn’t be traceable back to me.”

  No wonder Reis had been checking out the high school.

  Each of Carson’s overly deliberate, controlled exhales filled the cab. “If you wanted her dead, why slash her tires?”

  “That wasn’t me. The way I hear it from Will, that kid of his really did have a crush on her. He would do anything to get her attention.”

  “Dude, you can’t just shoot us.”

  Could Carson know she was awake and be filtering info? How could he know when she didn’t dare give the least hint for fear Kevin would see?

  Her heart squeezed at the notion that Carson was as in tune to her as she was to him. She’d longed for that connection and refused to lose it. They weren’t dead yet, and damn it, she did intend to fight for her man. Whatever it took.

  “Like I said, you haven’t left me any choice but to kill you. But I’m more creative than that …. Pull over.”

  She peeked to orient herself and recognized the spot well—the small battlefield where they’d parked, talked. Made love. Water shooshed along the shore with none of its usual soothing tune. Why had Kevin chosen this location?

  “Yeah, I followed you two here, and once I could tell you were nice and settled into the back of the truck for a romantic evening under stars, I headed over to your boat. Easy enough to file away at a couple of lines. Too bad you lived. But this time, my plan is foolproof. Brilliant in fact. Worthy of a guy on the fast track.”

  A rustle sounded from the back, like a paper bag.

  “Just a little of this on the seat and even more in your system will explain why you drove the truck off the bridge while coming out to your favorite spot for a little romance.”

  A little of what?

  The splash on her clothes hit an instant before the pungent fumes.

  The unmistakable smell of alcohol.

  The smell of alcohol saturated the air.

  Soaked his senses.

  Carson wiped his mind clear of everything but Avery’s face and watched for the right time to move. He couldn’t let himself think of Nikki slumped and faking unconscious next to him. He definitely couldn’t think of the lush harbor side park beyond his windshield. The secluded locale was too full of distracting memories of being with Nikki and how much they had to lose at the hands of this unbalanced megalomaniac.

  Megalomaniac. Another five-dollar word to share with Nikki’s student, and by God, Carson intended to live long enough to do just that.

 
His 9mm shifting to kiss Nikki’s temple again, Avery passed the bottle of tequila toward Carson, glass glinting in the hazy glow from the dash. “Take it. I even left the worm in the bottle for ya, Major.”

  Carson closed his fingers around the glass neck, all the while envisioning it was Avery’s scrawny throat. Not at all tempted to do anything more than snap it in two and let the amber poison pour away. But he couldn’t do that, not yet when he needed to play along for a while more. “Your plan doesn’t sound foolproof to me. In fact I can already see a dozen holes.”

  Talk, you bastard. That would offer up more time to think.

  Avery reached behind him again—Carson tensed—and came back with a big buckle belt, which he dropped on the seat. “Owens’s. I’m so damn smart I saved this as a contingency in case I needed to set up someone else for the murder.” The leather belt thudded to rest beside Nikki. “You never did have faith in my intelligence or ability to lead.”

  Good God, the kid was a second lieutenant, not the boss. “Then how about you explain your genius to a slower dude like me.”

  “It’s quite simple actually. I’ll knock you both out, drive the truck off the bridge and swim away while you drown. The bumps on your head will be attributed to the accident, another tragic DUI.”

  Well hell, the plan actually sounded as if it could work. His fist clenched tighter around the bottle as he fought off the possibility of losing this battle, ironically fought on a small, nearly forgotten historic field. The whispers of past wars rode the tide’s ebb and flow. “Lieutenant—”

  “Don’t try ordering me around. Not now.” Avery grasped a fistful of Nikki’s hair and yanked.

  She yelped.

  Awake.

  Damn, he’d thought she might be, but prayed she could simply sleep through this hell.

  She blinked, not in the least groggy, apparently having listened to the whole exchange. “Carson, don’t do it.”

  Avery tugged her hair tighter until the skin around her eyes pulled taut. “It’s just a drink to save Nikki some pain and ease your own.”