Accidental SEAL (SEAL Brotherhood #1)

by Hamilton, Sharon

  Christy didn’t want to look at the Navy guy any more than she had to. But she wouldn’t trust turning her back on him, either. “I would like to get dressed first, if you don’t mind.” She pulled at the sweatshirt and pointed to her black yoga pants.

  “Of course, we’ll just wait…” He started to walk past her into the hallway, but Christy put a palm to his chest before he could take more than a step.

  “You’ll wait outside, or I’ll call security.” She wrinkled up her nose and whispered, “They have guns too, but you’re probably a better shot.”

  She slammed the door in their faces. And locked it.

  Jerks!First the SDPD and now the sheriff’s department and the Navy. Who’s next? The F fucking B I?

  “Give me two minutes, ’kay?” she said through the metal door.

  There was no answer, so she dashed to the bedroom and quickly slipped on a pair of tan khakis and put back on the light yellow oversized sweatshirt. She brushed out her wet hair and pulled it in a scrunchie. She decided against makeup. No body-enhancing underwear either. No reason to encourage either of them, but especially the one called Carlisle. In her bare feet, she unlocked and opened her front door, greeting them with as much of a smile as she could muster.

  She was regarded carefully. She could see Warren was the smarter one, and for now, the leader. She stepped aside and they both walked past her. She leaned out into the hallway and found Mr. Jefferson standing, a puzzled expression on his face.

  She waved to him, but he just stared back at her. He was still wearing slippers. She quietly closed her door.

  “Please,” she said as she motioned to her couch, where they both sat side by side. She took up a position in Kyle’s leather chair and assumed the pose she’d taken when she’d talked to Mayfield this morning.

  “I’ve answered all the San Diego police’s questions this morning. I know nothing about all the murders on TV, if that’s what you’re here about.”

  “You’re Kyle’s girlfriend, then,” Warren said, his lips slanted at an angle while he examined a piece of lint on his starched but wrinkled pants. His shoes were dusty, too. Christy knew he’d been to somewhere probably Kyle had been. And that place wasn’t in town.

  “Right now, I’m not quite sure what I am. Why don’t you tell me?” she asked them.

  “Well, you could be an accomplice, perhaps an unwitting accomplice. If you help him in any way or impede our investigation, you’ll be charged just like the rest of them.”

  “Them?” she asked.

  “I’m sure you know he leads teams for a living,” Hilber began. “Special teams that do things most people would find offensive. And dangerous.” He smiled and she got the chills. “We’d be grateful for your help. Thought perhaps we could strike a little deal with you.”

  The brittle smile across his face didn’t seem natural to him. He didn’t seem very practiced at making it look sincere.

  “A deal? Why would I be interested in a deal, or even need one?”

  “Well, right now there’s a shoot to kill order, since your man here is armed and dangerous. If you help us catch him, I’ll do my best to bring him in alive.”

  “Surely you are joking.”

  “I’m afraid not, ma’am.”

  Carlisle inserted himself in the conversation, apparently having waited long enough. “You may not know this, but Kyle is about to be booted from the Navy. I’ve been watching him for a couple of years now. I have reams of violations he’s been written up for. He’s coming unhinged. Very unstable.”

  She dismissed his comment like it was the sound of a garbage truck.

  He continued. “I’ve seen things he’s done you don’t know about. You’re lucky to be alive. He’s a dangerous man.”

  He is dangerous. His kisses are dangerous. The way he loves me with total abandon is dangerous. It’s dangerous how much I need him even now.

  Warren said, “He’s a real smooth one. The ladies love him, and”—he waited until she looked up at him—“he’s loved a good many of them in return.” He winked, stopping to watch perhaps a flicker of pain cross her face? Christy hoped she’d properly masked it.

  The idea that those tattooed arms would ever hold another woman was a nightmare she did not want to endure. But worse was seeing the satisfied look on Warren’s face when he realized he’d hit pay dirt. He’d got to her. And she knew it was probably all BS anyway, but it got to her, nonetheless.

  Warren shook his head. “You know as well as I do, he’s married to the SEALs. They are his family. You’re baggage.” Warren skewered her with a direct stare she couldn’t escape. “Only a matter of time before he takes out the garbage. No offense, ma’am.”

  Again he had misjudged her.

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Am I?”

  She worked on her composure. This man knew right where to hit her, where it hurt the most. She sucked it in and continued. “He’s looking for his friend who’s been kidnapped.”

  “Kidnapped? You believe that?” Warren looked at Carlisle and they chuckled and shook their heads, like it was some private joke.

  “I’d say more like he wanted in on Armando’s golden goose. Armando’s dirty. Running drugs and guns for a gang here we’ve been tracking for some time.”

  Christy’s cell rang from the kitchen, sending her leaping to her feet to retrieve it. Before she could get there, Hilber picked it up off the kitchen counter. He looked at the display, then frowned and tilted his head to the side.

  “Wayne Somerville? You holding out on Kyle?” he asked, handing her the phone. Even the beefy Realtor she loathed was a welcome distraction.

  “H-hello?”

  “Hey, Christy, you all right? I’ve been worried about you. Everyone here at the office is curious as hell…”

  “I’m fine.” She closed her eyes and wished she could will it so.

  Wish I was on someone else’s radar.

  “Well, that’s good to hear. I’ll tell everyone.”

  “Do that.”

  “Hey, Christy, I wanted to apologize for, well for getting you into this mess you’re in. It was an honest accident, giving you the wrong address, but I’m real sorry…and I…”

  She needed to prolong the call. Anything to keep her away from the two men in her condo. Hilber and the other one were scanning her living room. She felt undressed.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Wayne,” she said into the phone, but she didn’t take her eyes off the two men.

  Warren began to pace back and forth. He seemed nervous about something because he kept checking his watch.

  “I been reading the papers, and, well, I think this guy who attacked you is the one running around killing people. You should have some protection.”

  Then she understood the purpose of Wayne’s call. This was his not too smooth way of inviting himself over for a cuddle and whatever else he could get away with. “Well, Wayne, right now I have protection from Deputy Sheriff Warren Hilber and Petty Officer Carlisle. They’re standing right here in my condo, talking to me.” She decided it was a good idea to let someone else know about the two jackals in her home.

  Hilber winced as Carlisle looked on sheepishly.

  Christy had an idea. “I actually think you could tell the whole office these guys are here to protect me right now. Please tell Simms, too. I don’t want any of you guys to worry.”

  “Oh, that’s good, Christy. Do you need anything? Simms says you’re taking a few days off.”

  “That’s right. The stress has been almost too much. Had a bit of a rocky start and all.” She looked at Warren. “But I’ll tell you what, could you come over in, oh, say an hour? I need a couple of things from my desk.”

  “Sure. Happy to help. In any way.” He lowered his voice and her stomach turned.

  “I have two buyer files I’m working on. They’re inside my middle drawer. Could you bring them over?” The files wouldn’t be too hard to find. They were the only two ones in her d
esk.

  She didn’t look at Warren but saw him flinch.

  “Maybe I’ll detain these two nice gentlemen so you can see for yourself how well taken care of I am. I think one of them is looking to buy a new home. And I’m going to be tied up for a few days.”

  Carlisle was looking up at Warren with a pained expression, holding his hands out, palms up, and shrugging.

  “Sure. Sure I could do that, Christy. Anything else?”

  “Ask Simms to call me later tonight, okay? I have some questions.”

  “Yeah. I’ll be over in about an hour, maybe less, if it’s okay.”

  “Fine by me.” She paused, sucked in her gut and said, “Come over as soon as you like. Thanks, Wayne. That’s real sweet.”

  She couldn’t help but gloat when she hung up the phone.

  “Well, officers. I need to get this questioning over with so I can get ready to receive company. You’re welcomed to stay, of course. We were discussing cooperation.”

  “If Kyle calls you, we want you to let us know,” Hilber blurted out.

  “Gee, I would have thought you’d have gotten a wiretap by now.”

  “The man can’t be trusted, miss. Do yourself and everyone else a favor. Don’t let him con you like he’s done others,” Carlisle said without expression. “You’re in way over your head. Don’t risk it for a little…a little…fun.” His right eye flinched when he said this.

  “Well, suppose you leave me your cards so I’ll have your numbers handy.” She looked back and forth between the two men. Carlisle turned to face Warren just a little too quickly.

  Warren patted down his breast pocket and then the seat of his pants. “I’m fresh out of cards, miss.”

  Christy took one of hers out from a box next to her chair. Flipping it over, she handed it to Warren, with a pen. “Why don’t you just write your contact information here? Do you check emails?”

  “Yes, I do,” he said, with a lopsided smile, looking up to her looming over him. She didn’t trust the man. It was more than the creep factor she had with that dog Wayne. This man was pure cold evil. With authority and a gun.

  He wrote his phone number and email address neatly on the card and handed it back to her. Again, his cold stare chilled her.

  “Now your turn.” She presented the pen and card to Carlisle, who leaned back so as not to touch it.

  “It would be better if you just contact Warren. He’s lead on this,” he said, his eyes not returning her gaze.

  “Um hum. Just give me your contact info anyway. Humor me,” Christy insisted, her head cocked at an angle. She smiled to let him know she knew he was struggling and was asking anyway.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. That’s classified.”

  “How about your name—your proper military name.”

  “No, sorry, ma’am. That’s not appropriate in this case.”

  “Then next time, you can stay outside, sailor.” She put the card and pen on her kitchen countertop next to the stove. Warren was, fidgeting, looking unhappy.

  “If you will excuse me.” She motioned to her front door.

  The two men exited. Warren turned before he closed the door behind him. “We’re going to catch him and all his team members. Even you can’t deny that a rogue SEAL with a boatload of guns and explosives stashed everywhere is a danger to the good people of San Diego County. Way too dangerous for you to be playing with. You don’t want to get scooped up in this net. Trust me, you don’t.”

  I already am. Nothing I can do about that now. Only person who can pull me off is the guy with the three-toed creature tattoo.

  The security desk downstairs in the Infinity office rang her phone about a half hour later.

  “We got a Wayne Somerville down here. Says he has an appointment with you.” Jerry’s usual friendly voice was stiff and oddly cold.

  “Sure, send him up.”

  Jerry didn’t say anything before he hung up. She was going to thank him but got a dial tone in her ear.

  When she heard the ping of the elevator, she opened her door and watched as Wayne lumbered down the hallway in a suit that looked a size or two too small and that showed off his midsection girth. The difference between the layer of blubbery fat giggling as he moved and Kyle’s measured strides and chiseled abs was laughable, but she held it in and risked him thinking she was glad to see him.

  But in a way, she was. She’d been surrounded by men the last twenty-four hours, and there was only one man she wanted to see.

  She smiled and said, “Thanks, Wayne,” as he handed her the files. “I really appreciate this.”

  “No problem. I was going to bring you some flowers too, but thought it would, you know, remind you of the incident and of that bad guy.”

  She knew he was making excuses for being cheap. Why bring flowers if you weren’t sure it was going to pay off?

  “How thoughtful. Thanks again. You want to come in?”

  “Sure.” Wayne’s eyes bugged out of his head, growing to saucer size.

  “You want some coffee?”

  “Sure, Christy. Thanks,” Wayne said as he poked his head in her bedroom doorway, and then did a 360 in her living room. “This place is really nice. I’ve sold a couple of units here, but I think this one is way better.”

  “Yeah, my mom left it to me.” She started grinding coffee beans.

  “Free and clear?” He whirled around to look at her.

  She was offended, of course, that he wanted to know how well off she was, but today she felt generous and had already dished out her quota of frost this morning. And Wayne didn’t really deserve the sharp end of her patience.

  “Yes. I have no mortgage.” She smiled to the brewing coffee—that pleasant smell she loved lying in her bed when she knew Kyle was in the next room, waiting for her to awaken.

  “Wow. That’s nice. Wish I had a rich relative.” Envy lurked like a snake between his words.

  “She wasn’t rich. It was the only thing she had, and she’d saved her whole life to buy the place. Used some money she got when my dad passed away.”

  “Oh. Good for her,” he said distractedly as she handed him his mug. He peered down into the creamy brew. “Thanks for the cream.”

  “Two lumps of sugar, too.”

  “You remembered. That means a lot to me, Christy,” he said as he lowered his voice, his gaze lowering to her chest.

  “Funny how I remember little details like that.” She sat on Kyle’s chair. “Have a seat.”

  Wayne repositioned the pillows so his hefty frame would fit on the couch and then sat, leaving little space for another person.

  “Who was your mom’s Realtor?”

  “She bought it from the builder. A grand opening special, I think.”

  “Jeez. Talk about timing. Good for her…and for you, too.”

  She was letting his lack of transparency amuse her this morning, a morning without very much good news.

  He sipped his coffee and put it on the table in front of him. Leaning forward, he pressed his palms together. “I’m sorry we got off to a difficult start. I was hoping we could be…friends.” He had blushed, and Christy thought it looked more like unwelcomed sunburn.

  Everyone wants to help me. Do I look that helpless?

  Yes. She decided she did. Damn it. That was going to have to change.

  “I suddenly have lots of people offering to help me.”

  “Oh, yeah? Who?”

  He was probably wondering if another Realtor was in the picture.

  “Well, there’s the local police, and the San Diego County Sheriff’s Department, and some Naval policeman or something. Forgot what they call him.”

  “MA. Navy term for MP. Wonder why all of them are so interested. I mean, I can see why they’d be interested in you, but…”

  “The triple homicide.”

  “You were unlucky. I’m sure they’ll figure it out soon enough.” Wayne frowned and added, “They think he’ll continue to strike until he gets caught. Death by cop sort
of thing, I guess.”

  This worried her.

  “Just how well do you know this guy, Christy?” He squinted his eyes and waited for her answer.

  “We’re friends.”

  “Be careful. You’re playing with fire, Christy.”

  Tell me about it.

  Chapter 21

  It wasn’t wise, but Kyle knew he would call her. He wasn’t even sure which was more important, his worry over her safety or his need to talk to her for his own personal reasons. And it didn’t matter.

  She picked it up on the first ring.

  “Christy’s house of good times.”

  Kyle didn’t quite know what to say. He heard the bitterness in her voice, but something else.

  Pain.

  He remembered himself, and his reason—at least the reason he’d given himself—for calling. “Christy, I apologize for my behavior.”

  “You seem to be repeating your sorry routine an awful lot, sailor. I’d say you’re pretty practiced in it. Impressive.”

  “Actually, I’m not. I don’t usually have to.”

  “Well, you don’t have to now.”

  “What I mean is, I don’t usually get involved.”

  Now it was Christy’s turn to pause. “Is that what we are? Involved?”

  “Yes.” There. He’d whispered it. Had she heard? “I told you before, this wasn’t a pit stop. You’re a nice lady. You deserve more than I can give right now.”

  “So exactly what is this thing between us that you won’t describe—this thing that isn’t what you can give me right now?”

  “I care about what happens to you.”

  “Get in line.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Let’s see. Where do I begin? I get scared out of my gourd at the gym last night with some strange guy walking past my sauna door when I’m lying there buck naked. I decide maybe I’m being foolish, but no, the San Diego PD is here this morning asking questions about some fire and a triple murder, thinking you’re involved. He wants to help. A Deputy Sheriff stops by with one of your Navy buddies…”

  “The sheriff’s department was there?” This wasn’t a good sign. But what did he expect?