by Justine Davis, Amy J. Fetzer, Katherine Garbera, Meredith Fletcher, Catherine Mann
Josie saluted without stopping. “Good morning, sir.”
“I didn’t expect to see you back so soon, Captain.” Bridges returned the salute. “You were given extra time to regain your balance for a reason.”
And let the investigation into her test crash go on without her supervision? Uh-uh. “I would prefer to keep busy.”
She didn’t trust him not to pull another stunt while she was gone. Did he perhaps feel even the least bit guilty over his scheduling change? As much as she wanted to think she could have saved the craft in flight, chances were she would have died instead.
Except she wouldn’t have left behind a spouse and a child. She couldn’t even bear to think about that other baby who would never see its father, or she would be a mess all over again.
She almost couldn’t contain her hatred for Mike Bridges, loathing made all the worse by the fact she didn’t detect the least hint of culpability on his handsome features. Just an odd blankness, as if he didn’t want her reading him at all.
What was he covering?
The sooner she started searching for answers, the sooner she would be able to prove whether Bridges had been responsible for more than a schedule change. “Well, I need to get to my office.”
She started to turn.
“Oh, Captain?”
“Yes, sir?”
“It’s fortuitous that you came in. It actually saved me a call. General Quincy wants to see you.”
A meeting with the general? Her skin burned with foreboding. Maybe she’d gleaned some of Diego’s feel-the-plane instincts after all, because she couldn’t escape the sense that she was headed for a crash and burn.
Chapter 15
Josie stood outside the office and listened to the general’s aide announce her. Her mind raced through the million things General Quincy could want to discuss with her. Some positive, like maybe they’d already traced the problem in Craig’s flight and it was a tragic accident but not her fault so all would proceed on schedule now.
Fat chance.
Other more reasonable options loomed darkly. That somehow in spite of all her careful planning, she’d screwed up and Craig’s death was truly and completely her fault.
She braced herself and entered. The general oversaw squadrons and detachments at a number of bases, and this office was simply the one he used while in town. Minimal extras lent a spartan air, just a big desk, a few chairs, a computer—and of course, flags.
Major General John Quincy filled the leather chair with his presence more than size, a fit man in his fifties with a full head of blond hair fading to gray. He wasn’t known for his enlightened views on women in the military, but at least there had never been so much as a whisper of him ever hitting on a female service member. All encounters with him at formal military functions showed an apparently happily married man with twins nearly her age.
She didn’t completely trust him to look out for her welfare in the workplace, but at least she didn’t have to worry about him grabbing her ass.
Josie snapped her salute. “Captain Lockworth reporting as ordered, sir.”
“At ease, Captain.” He returned the salute then steepled his fingers under his chin.
Her arm lowered but still she stood, meeting his eyes now. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m sorry to have to call this meeting so close to the events with Captain Wagner. But a situation has arisen that involves you.”
“In what way, sir?”
“I’ll let these pictures speak for themselves.”
He opened a file and tossed down an array of five photos—all of her kissing Mike Bridges. Her leaning forward as if to deepen the kiss with the scum-sucking bastard, when she knew damn well she’d only been leaning to shove past him without kneeing him in the balls. Even though she knew the events had unfolded in a disgusting case of Bridges breaking protocol, the pictures seemed to suggest something different.
Only years of military training kept her rigid stance from crumbling. Her fingers itched to snatch the pictures from his desk and shred them. Shannon must have snapped shots of her with Bridges before catching her with Diego, probably a whole roll of film that she’d neatly stashed somewhere besides her camera bag.
Why hadn’t she seen a flash? Could her anger have been that blinding? No matter how it had happened, the pictures were there and somehow Shannon had captured angles that made Josie seem the aggressor.
General Quincy scooted the photos into a single stack. “As you know, a certain television correspondent has been working on a special about Athena Academy graduates, showing whether or not the grant money funding the all-girl’s prep school is paying off. A sort of ‘where are they now’ focus.”
Where was she now? From the picture on top it appeared she was working Bridges toward a hotel romp. Who would have thought disgust could look so much like passion?
She forced herself to listen rather than shout in her own defense. She needed to stay calm and logical.
“I’ve already met with Major Bridges to question him. He says you expressed an interest in him the first day you met.”
Damn Bridges and his quibbling. She may have glanced at him before she knew his rank and position. But she’d never once made a move toward him.
Josie kept her head high, much preferable to staring at herself in compromising photos that brought the disgust of that encounter roiling through her again. “The photos and Major Bridges are lying. He came on to me, sir. I was on my way in today to file a Memo of Record to begin documenting a pattern of behavior.”
“But you haven’t already done so?”
Frustration and the first hints of fear smoked through her. “No, sir. There hasn’t been time with Captain Wagner’s crash.”
“I see.” The general rocked back in the office chair. “Do you have any evidence or witnesses in your defense?”
“Diego Morel walked into the event in question, sir. He knows what really happened.”
Already the general was shaking his head. “A jealous boyfriend? I’m afraid you’ll have to do better than that. Of course he believes the other man was at fault. That isn’t going to help you, Captain. I would advise you to stop talking now and contact a lawyer.”
Fear mushroomed into a toxic cloud inside her. She would rather face combat than this. “A lawyer?”
“Yes, you can make the call here or once you’re confined to quarters.”
“Quarters? Excuse me, sir, but I’m not following.” Confinement to quarters was extreme for a charge like this, which expanded her fear. But she had no recourse to argue his decision.
“Captain,” the general said slowly, as if to a dense child, “this is a court-martial offense and charges have been filed. As much as I would like for it to go away for the good of the air force, this—” he shook the stack of photos “—makes a quiet resolution impossible. You are being confined until the mess is settled. If you lived on base, we could keep you under guard there. But you don’t. So you will be held in the Visiting Officer’s Quarters over at Edwards Air Force Base. Much better than a prison cell, don’t you agree?”
As though she had a choice. Cold realization hit her with leaden force. “Will I be allowed visitors?”
“Of course.”
Did she even want Diego around right now? No. Definitely not. She’d be in his lap naked and crying again in a heartbeat.
Unacceptable.
But she would need help given the extreme measures already in the works by confining her. She would start with contacting her Athena network to find…something, anything to make this right.
She kept her shoulders squared, military posture intact even as the world around her tumbled out of control.
“Captain.”
“Yes, sir?” She forced herself to focus through the dizzying haze.
He relaxed forward on his elbows signifying an us-against-them shift to the meeting she couldn’t afford to trust. “Fraternization rules are important, but I understand human nature. I’ve been around f
or many years and battles. My guess is that very likely there will be a deal put on the table.”
She knew better than to think a deal would leave her unscathed. “And what kind of deal might that be, sir?”
“You’ll probably be offered the chance to resign your commission in exchange for all charges being dropped.”
Denial howled through her. A few weeks ago she hadn’t been certain about staying in the air force after the test project wrapped up, and now she couldn’t imagine leaving. What a bittersweet way to find out how much the uniform meant to her. “Not an option for me, sir. I’m innocent.”
“Captain, pressures have been intense for you lately.”
A spidery tingle started over her as she sensed his logical direction.
“Take this time to level out and plan your life so family patterns don’t repeat themselves. Choose wisely, Captain. There are plenty of other ways to serve your country. None of which will be possible if you’re in prison or have a dishonorable discharge hanging over you.”
He reached to press the buzzer on his phone and the door opened again. Footsteps sounded behind her just before two SPs—Security Police—fanned to her sides.
The general stood and returned their salutes. “Escort Captain Lockworth home to collect some personal belongings before you see her to the VOQ.”
Military training assumed command and she functioned, registering her own automatic reactions, a salute, a precisely executed pivot toward the door with her escorts ever present.
Josie shuddered even imagining how her parents would feel about this and the old wounds it might open for her mother. As frustrated as she was with her father sometimes, she had tried to demand as little as possible from them given their own difficult times.
She couldn’t think about that now. She had to get her butt out of this sling. Fast. With every second wasted, the trail grew colder on how that flight had gone wrong.
Now more than ever she believed someone was gunning for her. Personally. If the crash wasn’t accidental, then Craig’s death proved they didn’t care who went down, as well.
She stepped outside, mid-morning sun blinding her until she slipped her aviator glasses in place. She couldn’t escape the crushing weight of her own flaws. She’d been so focused on losing Craig, on the defeat of her program, she’d all but forgotten about the incident with Bridges. And that brief lapse in defenses had been too costly.
No more emotional weakness.
She climbed into the back of the SPs vehicle, the demoralizing moment making her all the more determined.
Pressure?
Hell, yes, she was under pressure, and she was learning something about herself. She thrived on pressure because damn it all, that was just challenge in another form.
She tugged out her cell phone and her e-mailer. She needed to get in touch with a lawyer. Athena grad Selena Shaw Jones, with her law degree and current position as a CIA legal attaché, would recommend the best. Diana would need to know, too, so she could troubleshoot with their parents.
Josie considered calling Diego, after all—the man she’d run from, leaving just a paltry note. But the reasons for stepping back from him still applied. Besides, this was her mess, not his. If she called, he would come. And help. And then she would lean at a time she needed to hold strong more than ever.
Josie gripped her cell phone and called her sister.
Straddling his humming Harley, Diego scanned the desert road stretching out of the testing facility. If he had his timing right, he should be seeing a certain vehicle come his way any minute now.
Thanks to the heads-up from Diana Lockworth.
Josie would be pissed as hell when she discovered her sister had sold her out. But Diana had been scared spitless of what would happen to Josie in the hours it would take Diana to get on a plane and head back to California.
In Diana’s own words, Josie would never put herself first, and right now somebody needed to. She trusted that he would do what was best for her sister.
Diana was right.
He didn’t give a shit about rules and fighting fair, and he sensed that perhaps Diana Lockworth might skirt a few rules herself on occasion. Their rebel kindred spirits recognized each other and together they would make sure people like Josie, pure of spirit and intent, were protected.
He figured he had two options for straightening this out—take on Mike Bridges or Shannon Conner. The decision cost him less than a quarter of a brain cell.
Bridges was the weaker of the two.
Diego gave the idling Harley another pulse of gas, the hum, rev and growl echoing the one inside him, anticipating Bridges emerging into view.
And if not? Diego kept one foot planted on the ground, the other on the bike. Well, he was a patient man when it came to righting the wrong done to Josie. Yeah, he was torqued with her for walking out while he slept, but the emotion definitely took a back burner to dealing with Bridges.
An SUV peeked into view, drawing closer, clearer on the road empty but for the SUV and his own Harley. It was him. Bridges. Diego revved his engine, waited for just the right moment to—
Swing his Harley out into the middle of the road.
Diego roared his way out, cranked into a turn, sliding, forcing the SUV to swerve onto the shoulder. Sand spewed from Bridges’s tires. The vehicle jerked to a halt.
The door flung open. Bridges stepped out in a cloud of sand and fury. Aviator glasses did little to hide his anger. “What the hell was that about? I almost killed you, you crazy son of a bitch.”
Diego swung off his bike. “I wanted to make sure we had a chance to talk without interruptions.” He advanced toward the uniformed man with slow, deliberate steps. “And I didn’t trust that a weasely bastard like you wouldn’t whimper for help on base or back at your place when we have our talk about what you did to Josie.”
“Whoa, hold on there.” Bridges held up two hands. “You don’t want to make this any worse for your girlfriend than it already is.”
“No.” Sun had baked the sand into a hard, cracked surface, pretty much like his anger. “Things are going to be just fine for her once I tear you apart.”
“Kill me and everything’s better?” Bravado starched up the man’s noodle spine now that the shock had worn off. He strutted forward.
“It would be for me. But that’s not what I’m talking about. You’re going down one way or another. I’m only giving you a chance to set this right so it goes easier on Josie.”
“How big of you. But you can pound the hell out of me and it won’t change my story. You went through the same POW survival camp training I did. I’m not impressed with your fists or your mind games.”
“No mind games.” Diego stood his ground, watching Bridges strut and posture—and fidget. He had the guy on the run. “Facts. See, I figured pretty quick that you’ve probably got a history with this sort of thing.”
A flicker of unease whispered across Bridges’s face before his cocky assurance slid into place again like a shield. “You don’t have jack-shit on me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. You seem to have forgotten Josie’s sister works military intel for the army. That lady can wring things out of the system you would think were impossible to squeeze free,” Diego continued with a slow-blink stare, studying for the right moment to break the man. “If there’s a whisper on you anywhere—on file, in print, even so much as a suggestive e-mail, she’ll find it. If that’s not enough for you, think on this name for a minute. Kayla Ryan.”
Shields slid away to reveal pure wariness. Everyone had a weak spot, and apparently Kayla was his. Bridges stayed silent. Smart man.
“She was a teenager when you seduced her, you bastard. There’s no denying it since your daughter’s DNA and age proves you did it. You’ve managed to keep it quiet with your timely child-support payments and damned good luck that the woman didn’t decide to skewer you. I won’t be so generous.”
“You’ll be hurting Kayla and Jasmine.”
Like Josie wasn’t already hurting? He refused to feel guilt over this man’s mistakes. “You scum. You don’t even know they call her Jazz.”
“Jazz?” Remorse flickered, fast, but there. “Damn it, leave my kid out of this. Josie would never go for dragging Kayla through this.”
“Josie won’t have a choice. I’ll do damned near anything before I let her lose her commission, much less go to jail.”
“She won’t forgive you for interfering.”
A lone car hummed in the distance, neared, passed by.
“Then that’s the way it will have to be, Bridges. But make no mistake, I’m going to pull apart your reputation layer by layer. Once Josie’s side becomes public, then with Kayla’s story, as well, there will be enough questions to start people talking. Maybe even give other folks confidence to speak up. Now, if you don’t have more skeletons in your closet—”
“Fine, damn it,” Bridges spit out, muscles bunching and jumping under his flight suit. “Just leave Kayla and Jasmi—” He paused, frowned. “Jazz. Leave them out of this.”
Possibly the guy really did care what happened to them. Maybe he had a human bone in his body after all. Diego wrestled with the surprise revelation. But then scumbags weren’t always clear-cut evil. Still, even knowing there was some good buried deep—way down deep—wouldn’t stop Diego from delivering one last message.
“Hey, Bridges?” Diego advanced, slowly, stalking.
“Yeah?”
Diego jabbed his fist up into the bastard’s gut. Bridges grunted, doubled over, stumbling back against his SUV. Diego pressed his forearm over the gasping man’s neck.
“How does it feel to be pinned against this car? Not so great, huh?” He flexed his arm a few millimeters deeper into the guy’s Adam’s apple. “And by the way, that was from Josie, the punch you deserved from her in the parking lot. If you ever hurt her again, I swear I will kill you.”
She was free.
