Somehow.
With regret, he dressed in two minutes. She’d made him a turkey sandwich, tucking it and an apple in a brown paper bag she handed him. He’d finished off his coffee and the granola yogurt mixture.
“So, when?” she asked as she fingered his T-shirt that ribbed at his neck. He could still feel her pert nipples through her robe through his tee.
“Can’t say. But I’ll call you.”
She nodded.
“Christy, you have to be very careful. Watch everything. Notice everything. I don’t want something to happen to you while I’m gone.”
She nodded again. “Promise.” She cocked her head to the side and smiled. “But I like being punished when I’m a bad girl.” She held up the silk tie.
Her eyes stopped sparkling when she saw his serious expression. Kyle saw she was waiting for her dose of medicine.
“Honey, I don’t want you anywhere close to danger. You’ve got to stay away from Armando’s house, maybe even me for a while. They could be following me. And now, they could be following you.”
“How do you know this?”
“Well, look at all the attention you’ve attracted already.”
She nodded. “Because of you.”
“They want something from him, and yes, maybe from me, too.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If they’d wanted to kill him, they would have. We’d already have found his body by now. Those guys always leave a calling card like a neon sign for anyone else to read. There’s something else they want.”
“What?”
“I can’t say. Please, it’s not that I don’t want to tell you, but I need to keep you out of this.”
“Do I have to stay physically right here?”
“With the gates and guards, this is probably the safest place to be.”
“How about the gym?”
“I’d say no.”
“But it’s inside the complex…”
“Christy, someone could have gotten a temporary pass key. You were right about that place. I can’t defend you if you’re not right here.”
“I’m sure it was my imagination. This place is tougher than Fort Knox to get in.”
“I got in without any trouble.”
Her eyes grew wide. “How?”
He pulled out a spare scan key from his pocket. “I took the Realtor’s key she left in the door when she was distracted with your shameful behavior.”
“That’s where my other card went. She must have mine.”
“Promise me you won’t go anywhere for a few days.” He leaned in close, next to the side of her head, and said softly in her ear, “Please? Just for a little while longer. When this is all over…”
His cell phone chirped.
“Hey, Fredo. What’s up?”
“Not good. Not good at all. They want you for questioning.” Fredo’s voice was calm, measured, but laced with tension. It brought reality back like a cold wave.
“What about the help from locals?” Kyle asked.
“Not even on the horizon until you answer their questions about the bodies.”
“They really think a bunch of SEALs would off some local muscle? Besides, those thugs that took Armani used to be military. I’m sure of it.”
“Who the hell knows?”
Kyle scanned his choices.
“So what now?” Fredo asked.
“Well, I’m not about to oblige them. I’m not going anywhere near a police station.”
“Thought you’d say that, boss.”
Kyle felt his choices drying up by the minute. Armani, anytime now. Another message would be great.
“Boss, something new. Coop got intel from his Fed connection there’s a gang working with some Special Operators, bringing in some illegals, drugs, and guns. There’s a hint there’s some official cooperation for protection.”
“Not possible it could be team guys.”
“You and I know it and Cooper knows it. Timmons is shit-kicking mad and says you gotta comply. It’s bullshit, man, but hey, the locals are working with the Navy regulars. Having some jurisdictional catfight I’d actually like to see.”
Kyle thought about the thorn in his side: Carlisle. He could smell the ill intentions of this cretin from miles away. And Carlisle wasn’t stupid, either. He’d heap it on, for sure. Tell them what a fuck-up Kyle was. How many reprimands and citations Kyle had been issued. How Kyle was such a loose cannon. Yeah, he could see that happening.
“Only one thing to do, then.”
“Yup,” Fredo agreed.
“Meet me at the Scupper in a half hour.”
“How you gonna get there?” Fredo asked.
“Fly. What do you mean?”
“They impounded your Hummer, Kyle. Found all your gear, filled with enough guns to worry the locals. Shoulda brought ’em with you, bro.”
“I was entertaining a…” Kyle looked over at Christy. Her body spilled out from the silk robe she’d neglected to secure. She was watching him, her smile as missing as water in the Sahara.
“Well, it’s not looking good, man. Maybe they know about her, too. You better think about that, man.” Fredo’s staccato burst of words hit Kyle. Square in the middle of his gut. Christy said there’d been two sets of officers, regular SDPD and a deputy sheriff.
Damn. How did this happen?
“You gotta get out of there, Kyle, before they come in and get you. Get you both.”
“Thanks. I’m on my way.” He was about to hang up when he thought of something. “You bring the razor wire back, or was that in my bag?” Although he knew he’d wiped the metal down as best he could, he didn’t recall putting it anywhere. It wouldn’t be good to have blood in his bag match the bodies.
“Dude, you don’t remember that?” Fredo sounded irritated with him.
“No, I don’t. I think I stuck it in my bag.”
“Then the cops have it. You’re in some sorry shit, man. You better get your ass over here.”
Kyle hung up and wanted to throw a chair through the window. How could he have been so fucking stupid? And it would be only a matter of time before the cops came for Christy, too. His prints and hair were all over this place.
Christy came up behind him and leaned into his back, wrapping her arms around his waist. He stiffened. She jerked in response and abruptly stopped stroking his chest. He grabbed her hand before it could start to travel again down to his groin. He turned around to face her. There was going to be no easy way to say tell her the bad news And he had no time to do it properly.
“I screwed up, Christy. They want me for questioning.” He saw her eyebrows rise up into little tents, saw creases form in her forehead. She cocked her head, then shook it from side to side.
“Just level with me. Tell me what’s going on.”
He could see the beg on her face, the urgent plea to become part of his life. All of his life.
“I can’t. I can’t get you involved.”
“But I am involved, Kyle. Can’t you see that?”
He walked to the sliding glass door but didn’t go out on the veranda. He spotted two police cars with lights flashing down below. Several others were approaching, with sirens wailing.
“I gotta go now. The guys are waiting.”
Kyle picked up his keys and jacket, turning to face her. He placed his palms on either side of her face. “I’ll call you. Stay here. Don’t go out.”
“What if the police…”
“Obey the police but no one else, you got it? I’ll try to call you on your cell. And don’t talk about me to anyone. Anyone. Only the San Diego PD.”
He was out the door and on the fire escape when he heard the elevator doors ping open in the background. He ran down the stairs all the way to the street level.
Kyle burst into a lobby full of police. Outside the building, police cars had been parked at odd angles, as more were expected to arrive. A crowd was gathering, along with a news crew. A white coronor’s van was parked n
earby, its doors open. Something awful had happened, and Kyle knew there was a dead body somewhere in the building. Although he wished he could stay, he knew leaving was the best thing he could do to protect Christy.
Chapter 23
Kyle ran a full mile and then hailed a cab to the island, headed for the Scupper. Once there, he found the SEAL bar dotted with tourists, taking pictures of all the SEAL memorabilia and of themselves in front of team insignias. Later on the joint would fill up, like any good meat market, revving up to go on until the wee hours of the morning. Weekends were for when the locals liked to think they could safely mingle with his crowd. The wanna-bes. Truth was, most of the real team guys would never be caught there on Friday or Saturday nights, except when they needed an emergency pickup to push something out of their minds. Kyle had done it a time or two. Amazing what an anonymous night of sex could do. And the girl usually liked it, as well.
He scanned the room, catching a few long, lusty looks from several of the female population and “man up” gazes from some of the guys, but he didn’t catch the eye of anyone familiar. But he heard a whistle over the din, then saw Cooper, his lanky frame towering a good foot above everyone else, near the exit sign in back.
“We were beginning to get worried,” Cooper said as he backed through the rear door, ducking.
Kyle shook his shoulders and checked the sky. It was refreshing to be outside again. Even the brief crowd of innocents made him nervous now. Being in the Scupper felt more like spending time in a jail cell. And maybe that’s because he worried he’d be landing there very soon. Until the Hummer had been hauled off, at Christy’s condo, no less, he’d thought they were close to ending the caper. Mia was safe. All they had to do was find Armando. Now a whole new chapter had erupted. Things were spiraling out of control.
Think, dammit.
Kyle saw Fredo and Cooper leaning against the block wall of the vacant warehouse behind the Scupper, watching him, arms and legs crossed in an exact mirror image to each other.
“Dude. You have shit for brains, man.” Fredo began. “Never seen you so spaced. Whatever she did to you, carve it out right now. No place for it here, or you’re gonna get us all killed.”
Fredo spoke the truth. It wasn’t fair these two would suffer for his lack of judgment. They had to have their wits about them, like they did on the job overseas.
“Let me just say one thing—”
“Shut up. Let’s get going,” Cooper said as he punched Kyle’s arm. “What’s the plan?”
Plan? What fucking plan? How could he plan when he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing? He’d spent the last twenty-four hours dreaming of a life he could never have. For the first time in his career, he had no plan.
Well then, make one up, asshole. He knew if he could just get into action, readjust his course, it would be easier to correct any mistake he’d made
“First, I got to tell you something’s gone wrong at Christy’s condo. I passed a flock of black and whites.” He scanned Fredo and Cooper. “And the coroner is there.”
Fredo whistled. “Your lady know about it?” he asked.
“Not when I left her. But I’m betting they’ll make sure she’s fully clued in.”
Now both of them stood with their legs wide, arms folded on their chests. Watching him. They wouldn’t ask and he wasn’t going to tell them what they wanted to know. Just like he wasn’t going to tell Christy what was really going on, either.
“If it goes bad, I want you guys to know I’ll take the fall, and I’ll say I acted alone. I don’t want you two or Gunny mixed up in this.”
“That’s the most ridiculous fucking thing I’ve heard you say,” said a voice from behind him. Gunny joined Fredo and Cooper, and now all three regarded Kyle with suspicion.
“Gunny, you shouldn’t be here.” Kyle didn’t need another innocent’s blood on his hands.
“Shut up. You’re wasting time,” Gunny barked back. “Cooper asked you already. What’s the plan, boss?” Gunny’s eyes looked surprisingly clear and blue.
Chapter 24
Christy leaned against the door she’d just shut and closed her eyes, reliving the sight of Kyle jumping into the stairway.
He’s gone.
When the knock came on her door, she almost opened the door without checking, hoping Kyle had changed his mind. Through the peephole, she saw Sergeant Mayfield’s large frame, along with the woman officer. Woodward.
She cinched her robe, put on her game face, and opened the door.
“Morning, ma’am.” Mayfield was all smiles today. A little apologetic, she thought.
“Sergeant. You two like to come in?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said as he passed her. The creak of leather from his belt and all the equipment he wore sent a shiver up her spine. Woodward whispered a curt “Thank you” as she passed by. Christy could smell cigarettes on her clothes.
“I made coffee a bit ago. Let me go make some more…”
“That won’t be necessary, Ms. Nelson.” Mayfield looked ridiculous, armed to the teeth, in the middle of her living room. His flack vest looked uncomfortable, with his arms and legs protruding from under the heavy layer like the parts of a turtle protruding from under its shell. Unnecessary protection. He didn’t seem happy to be here.
“All right.” She joined them and motioned for them to sit down, which they both ignored. “Okay then, would you please tell me what this is all about?”
Mayfield took out the little book from his vest pocket and flipped through white lined pages. “You know a Marla Cunningham?”
Christy found Kyle’s chair and sat. Her stomach felt vacant. Her heart pounded. Little black dots began swirling around, clouding her eyesight.
“I can see you do.” Mayfield was stern. Suddenly unfriendly.
“She’s my trainer,” Christy said as she looked up to his face. She felt all the blood rush from her cheeks.
“When was the last time you saw her?”
Christy had to think. It had been after the open house. “Sunday night. I took a spinning class from her.”
“Seems that she called into a crisis hotline to report a possible attack.”
“When?”
“Two days ago.”
“Oh.”
“You know about anyone who had a thing for Ms. Cunningham?”
“No. We never talked about her personal life. Just about mine.”
“And so now I gotta ask you about yours. Your SEAL boyfriend…”
“Look, he’s not…” But she was lying now. Kyle had said cooperate with the police. “What does my personal life have to do with…just what exactly are you saying? Is something wrong with Marla?”
Did she want to hear this?
“She’s been found dead.”
Christy’s chest caved. She couldn’t find the air to fill her lungs. Black spots played checkers before her eyes, obscuring the large officer and the lady.
Dead?
She pulled herself back together. They had not offered condolences. Both of them were watching her. She wrapped her arms around her torso to stop the shaking and the buzzing in her head that was like a dentist’s drill.
“Where?”
“And what difference would that make?” Mayfield was cool as he frowned. Woodward was checking out Christy’s pink toes.
“Well, I was supposed to meet her at the gym Thursday night. She never showed.”
Mayfield and Woodward looked at each other.
“She was found in her office,” Mayfield answered.
Now Christy remembered the light under the office door. Poor Marla might have been fighting off her attacker at that very moment. Christy could have helped her. But instead she’d run. Run to safety. And now her friend was dead. She had to ask the question. “And why do you think Kyle is involved?”
“I can’t say, exactly, due to the investigation.” Mayfield put his forefinger into his collar and stretched it loose. “Seems Marla kept a journal of her activities and se
ssions at the club. Her entry for Sunday night was interesting in light of what we found today.”
Christy looked at the woman, who was having difficulty keeping eye contact. This was going to be bad.
“She wrote that you’d had an altercation yourself. That a crazy showed up and restrained you, and then let you go.”
“It was a misunderstanding,” Christy said, the defiance in her voice putting a chill in the room.
Woodward shot her a look that told her the officer had heard it before and hadn’t believed it then, either.
“We’re thinking it was the same person.” Mayfield let it sink in. Christy was starting to get sick to her stomach.
“Why?” She had to force herself to ask it. This was not going to be something she really wanted to know.
“The method of restraint. The man who killed Marla used pantyhose.”
Chapter 25
Mayfield was surprised to see Deputy Hilber at the crime scene, since it wasn’t the sheriff’s jurisdiction. The little prick from the Navy was dutifully at Hilber’s side. Mayfield hoped like hell the man never applied to work in his department and he made a note in his book to check the test roster to see if he’d qualified for consideration. Had to be some way to lose Carlisle’s application, if he was stupid enough to have submitted one.
“I imagine this is a little different than checking cars at the guard shack on base, sailor.” Mayfield had years of practice looking stern. The young MA might not pick up on the twinkle in his eye.
“Fascinating, sir, watching them work,” Carlisle said, scanning the crew from the coroner’s office, the photographer, and forensic team. “Just like on TV.”
Mayfield made a mental note this time. The guy was digging the gore, and the details of a murder
Hilber was another story. He was admiring the angle of broken fingers protruding up from the body of Marla Cunningham, whose hands were secured in place by a pair of black pantyhose. He noticed the pantyhose were tied in a bow.
Accidental SEAL (SEAL Brotherhood #1) Page 20
