by Low, Gennita
“How’d you manage that?”
“We’re Cutter’s team too. Zoe’s a Marine Corps brat. She knows how important it is to all of our careers. She knows the score.” Maybe too well.
“Is she protecting everyone’s career or just Cutters?”
Was it just her brother she was protecting? “I don’t know.”
Lang’s brows rose.
“We’re not—We haven’t—” Hawk drew a deep breath. “Her mother asked me to look after her. I won’t break that trust.”
Lang’s smile held a wry twist. “That’s an admirable position, but I’ve seen the way you look at her, my friend. And I’ve seen how she looks at you, too.”
He couldn’t deny the attraction that ricocheted back and forth between them, but Zoe wasn’t going to act on it. He had a gut feeling about that. “She doesn’t want to get drawn back into the life. Her Dad was killed in Desert Storm and now Cutter’s—” He swallowed. “And there are other issues.”
Lang raised one thick brow. “Her leg?”
“Yeah.” Hawk rubbed his jaw and tried to relax the urge to grit his teeth in frustration.
Lang’s gaze grew sharp. “I wouldn’t have thought that would matter to you.”
“It doesn’t matter to me,” Hawk said his tone certain.
Lang frowned. “Shit.”
That just about said it all.
Hawk grabbed his pack. “I’ve got to go.”
“Call when you’re ready to head back to the hospital. I’ll be at the administration building.”
“Thanks.”
Hawk limped across the parking lot. A knoll of ground separated the cars from the range. He followed the path to the top of the shallow hill. BUD/S trainees lay on the ground shooting at distant targets with AK47s. The cacophony of sound assaulted his ears as they fired.
Doc O’Conner paced back and forth behind the men watching as they practiced. As Hawk drew close, Doc’s haggard look became evident. Blood vessels lined the whites of his eyes like tributaries and lines of stress dug crevices around his mouth.
At Hawk’s greeting, Doc’s smile appeared strained.
“How’s it going?” Hawk asked.
“This batch seems better than most,” Doc said during a lull in the noise. “Ensign Jeffers, the guy at the end, has sniper training. He’s lethal every time.”
Hawk watched the trainee for a moment. “Did you have a party and not invite me, Doc? You look a little rough around the edges.”
Doc grinned. “No party. Well at least not one more than two people attended.”
Was it really just a late night with a woman? Or something else?
“How’s, Zoe?” Doc asked.
“Still spending twelve hour days at the hospital. We need to talk about Cutter. When will you be through here?”
“Something happen?”
“Yeah.”
Doc glanced at his watch. “It’ll be about an hour before we’re relieved.”
“Is Bowie around?”
“Yeah, he’s walked down to the head and will be back in a minute.”
“Bring him along. I thought Flash was here, too.”
“He’s down at the administration building keying in a report.”
Hawk nodded. “I’ll give him a call on my cell.”
Doc’s brow furrowed and dread took up residence in his eyes. “Is Cutter worse? Is he—?”
“No. But I need to speak with you about him. I’ll be on the pistol range when you’re done here.”
Hawk sauntered down the field past multiple long distance training ranges to the sheltered pistol range and spoke to the range master to set up his target. Between the barrages of fire, he made a quick call to Flash on his cell and promised to meet him at the administrative building in an hour. He lifted his pack upon the narrow shelf that marked his firing position and separated him from the field.
What if they were all somehow involved in what had happened? His team. He flinched inwardly. Whether they were or weren’t, he already looked at them differently. He’d viewed these men as part of his family.
God, he hated this.
He removed his nine-millimeter Sig Sauer and several clips of ammunition and placed them on the shelf. He slid the bolt back to check the weapon’s chamber and finding it clear, slapped in a clip. He slid on his protective headgear, thumbed off the safety, raised the handgun, and waited for the next signaled burst of fire.
Squeezing the trigger and boring holes in the distant target helped relieve some of his frustration. Temporarily.
After he finished his practice, he stood atop the shallow plateau above the range and watched other personnel cycle in and out.
Thirty minutes later, Doc and Bowie arrived in a military Humvee. As they exited the vehicle, he studied each man’s expression. Would it have been better if he’d talk to each alone? They’d faced BUD/S together. If they had a choice, they’d faced the charges, the disruption to their careers together. Hawk rolled his head to loosen the taut muscles in his neck.
“Hey, LT. What’s up?” Bowie asked.
“They’re still looking into Cutter’s accident and I wanted to touch base with you on it. Do either of you remember Cutter behaving differently before we were called up on the mission?”
Bowie shook his head. “No. He was joking and jacking around just before the drop. We were talking about going out with twin sisters he’d met when we got back home. If they were still available.”
Hawk remembered the conversation. “He hadn’t been complaining about headaches or any other physical problems?”
Doc and Bowie each shook their head.
“He’d been working out some with Derrick, not as obsessively as Strong Man, but just enough to get some definition,” Doc volunteered.
“How was he with Strong Man and Flash? Did you pick up on any tension between him and either of them?”
“No,” Doc said.
Hawk studied Bowie’s frown. “Is there something you remember?”
“It was nothing. Flash said something to him about minding his own business the day before the drop.”
“What about?”
“I don’t know. It sounded like he was just giving him some advice about something.”
“Anything else you can think of?”
“Why would Cutter go back into the building after he’d already gotten out?” Doc asked.
Hawk frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I saw him climbing back through the window after he should have completed his run.”
He’d gotten out of the building, then turned around and gone back in. Why would he do that? Had he heard or seen something? Forgotten something? Not a chance with their training.
There were three blonds on the team. Cutter, Strong Man, and Flash. Had it been one of the others? Strong Man had radioed Cutter’s absence. Flash had been positioned on the roof diagonally from the target location. If it hadn’t been Cutter climbing inside the building, then who? Could Strong Man have radioed from inside the building?
“Are you sure it was him, Doc? Could you see the guy’s hair?”
“No, it was too dark. Who else would it have been?”
“They don’t think it was an accident.” Bowie’s tone was as flat as his gaze.
“No, they don’t.”
Doc’s eyes widened. “Jesus—”
Bowie’s features grew taut. “We’re all under suspicion, aren’t we?” He stepped close into Hawk’s space. “What the hell did you put in your report, Hawk?”
Hawk braced a hand on Bowie’s shoulder and met his gaze. “I wrote exactly what I found when I entered the building. Cutter was out cold and stuffed behind a cabinet, the side of his head bloody. The position of his body suggested that someone had put him there so he wouldn’t be seen.”
Bowie’s features slackened in surprise and he stepped back. He and Doc exchanged a look.
“It wasn’t either one of us, Hawk. Neither of us had a reason to hurt Cutter. He was—”
Bowie paused, “is our buddy. We’d never even had words about anything.”
Hawk studied Doc. Something was going on with the man. He seemed distant, dazed. “Is that true for both of you, Doc?”
“It’s true.” The man’s gaze met his. “I’d never do anything to hurt Cutter. Never. I did my best to keep him alive until we got back to base.”
The man’s sincerity had him taking a relieved breath. His gut told him they were both telling the truth, but could he still trust his instincts. And what the hell was going on with Doc?
“All right. I want both of you to think back on the days before the mission. Every conversation, every observation, anything at all that you noticed about Cutter. And Doc, think back on the guy you saw going in through the window. Anything you observed about him.”
“You don’t think it was, Cutter?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Why would Cutter turn around and go back in once he was clear? And if it wasn’t him—” He left it hanging. “Write it all down, it may help you to think it through. If either of you remember anything at all you feel is relevant, call me. We have to figure this thing out.” He looked from one to the other. “I’m not going to let team loyalty stand in the way of finding out what happened. Neither of you should either.”
Bowie’s hands clenched and released in an open characteristic of stress, but his anger seemed to have passed. “Aye-eye, LT.”
Hawk glanced at his watch and bent to pick up his pack. “I need a ride to the admin. You guys ready to go?”
Doc nodded, the action subdued, tired. “Yeah, we’re ready.”
Silence, oppressive and painful, pressed down on Hawk as they drove from one location to the other. As Doc wheeled into the parking area, Hawk spotted Flash leaning against a car in the parking lot of the admin building waiting for him.
“Stay icy. We’ll figure this thing out,” Hawk said as he opened the door and got out.
“Damn straight,” Bowie said, his tone hard.
Doc threw up a hand as he pulled away.
Hawk returned to the gesture and he turned to face Flash.
“How’s the knee?” he asked before Hawk reached him.
“It’s coming along.”
“Good. What’s up? Has something happened to Cutter?” Flash’s brows rose then converged in a show of concern.
“No, he’s about the same.” Hawk studied Flash’s narrow face.
“You had a bird’s eye view on the whole mission. Did you see Cutter come out of the building then go back in?”
“No. All I saw was you going in after him right through the front door. That was the God damnedest thing I’ve seen since I’ve been a SEAL. Then a few minutes later when you burst out the front door and the muzzle flashes started flaring as all the tangos fired at you—” He shook his head at the memory. “You were born under a lucky star or something man. I still don’t know how you kept from getting hit.”
Uncomfortable with the memories Flash’s observations dragged up, Hawk shrugged. “Just plain lucky I guess.” He shifted his pack over his shoulder to a more comfortable position. “Did you change position at any time?”
“Not once I settled in.”
“I want you to write down everything you saw that night, Flash.”
He frowned. “I already wrote my report for Lieutenant Commander Jackson.”
“Well I want you to do it again. But this time I want you to write down everything you can remember Cutter saying or doing in the days before the mission. There are some questions about what happened to him that have to be answered before Jackson will let it go.”
Flash frowned and his jaw tensed. “All right. What’s Jackson looking for?”
“Cutter was down before I found him. He wants an explanation.”
“Shit, Hawk. Anything could have happened to him. He could have tripped and hit his head or fallen. We’re never going to know what happened.”
Was Flash hoping they wouldn’t find out? “You can go in and tell Jackson that the next time you’re at HQ.”
Flash swore beneath his breath. “I’ll try and remember what we talked about before the mission. But it’s been over a month.”
The strain of reading into what his men said, and looking at every word with suspicion, had his gut tightening painfully. Hawk swallowed against the sensation. “Do what you can.”
“All right.”
Flash’s sullenness sparked Hawk’s resentment. He drew a deep breath in a bid for patience and reached inside his pack for a copy of the CD the hospital had given him. The small subterfuge he had planned gave him a twinge or two of guilt. If Flash’s findings were different than Lang’s, would it prove anything?
“You’re good with images. I’d like you to have a look at these and see if you can figure out who this guy is. He came out of Cutter’s hospital room just before Derrick arrived.”
Flash grasped the disk case. “Will do. I’ll get right on it and call you later tonight.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Would he be so eager to get on this if he were the one on the tape? If he was, would he try and cover it up somehow? “Have you seen Lang around?”
“Yeah, he was inside talking with Lieutenant Russell.”
“I’ll catch you later.” Hawk turned.
“What happens if we never figure out what happened to Cutter?” Flash asked.
Hawk looked over his shoulder at him. Feelings of betrayal, guilt, and frustration rose up to color his words with emotion. “We’re fucked.”
Chapter Nine
‡
Zoe laughed as she watched Langley Marks, wearing an apron that read “Fireman in Training”, flip burgers at the grill. His wife, Trish, stood beside him with a small cup of water to douse the flames thrown up by grease on the charcoal.
Zoe drew in a deep breath of the chlorine-laced air and tried to relax the tension in her shoulders. God, she and Hawk had both needed to get out of the house and away from the hospital for a few hours. Since he’d gone to the shooting range the day before he’d been quiet and distracted. Who had he talked to? What had they said? Damn the Navy and damn this closed mouth policy. She was going to get him to talk to her as soon as they got home.
Zoe’s attention wandered back to Trish as she pointed at something on the grill with her left hand while the fingers of her right lingered against her husband’s nape. Langley turned to look at her, a smile playing across his wide expressive mouth. An intimate look passed between the couple.
“Incoming!”
Hawk’s shout had her looking around just as he hit the surface of the water, his body tucked in a cannonball. A fountain of water splattered the three children sitting on the side of the pool. They squealed and immediately leaped in to splash him.
Watching him play with the children, her smile reemerged. He was more than good with them. She didn’t want to think about that either.
Trish Marks placed a glass of ice tea on the table in front of her with a slice of lemon floating in it. “You’re awfully deep in thought, Zoe.”
“I’m just watching the children.”
Trish sat down across from her and folded a napkin to act as a coaster. “What’s the news on your sister and the new baby?”
“They released my sister and the baby to go home a couple of days ago. The baby is doing well. She weighs seven pounds ten ounces, and according to my brother-in-law, Turner, eats like a pig.”
Trish smiled, her freckled face wholesome and pretty. “That’s great. And your sister?”
“She’s very sore and moving slowly, but she’s going to be all right.”
Trish nodded. “That’s good.”
Zoe’s gaze traveled to the three tow-headed children in the pool as Hawk passed a beach ball with them. “Hawk’s really good with the kids.”
“Yes, he is. He even babysat with Anna and Jessica one night when we had to take Tad to the emergency room with a stomach virus.”
Zoe grinned and patted the area over her heart as tho
ugh it were fluttering.
Trish laughed. “He’s going to make someone a dandy husband one day.”
With an effort, she kept her tone and expression carefully neutral. “Yes, he will.”
“How are you and he getting along without Clara?”
She swung her attention back to Trish. “Fine.”
“But—”
Zoe bit her lip to keep from smiling. “No buts.”
“But—”
She laughed. “I bet you’re really good at work.”
Trish smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ve been told I can get the most hardened gang member to talk. That’s part of being a good social worker, getting people to reveal what’s bothering them.” Her expression grew serious as she leaned her elbows on the table. “I was only teasing. I wasn’t trying to pump you for information.”
“Sure you were.” Zoe shot her a look of understanding. “You’re obviously close to Hawk and are trying to look out for him. Getting people to talk is part of my job, too. Sometimes it’s easier to get other people to talk, than it is to talk about yourself.”
“But—”
She was silent for a moment as she studied the other woman’s face. “I’m waiting for someone who’ll look at me like Langley does you.”
Trish’s blond brows rose. “The fellow in the pool might be a candidate.”
Zoe looked back at the pool and caught Hawk looking at them, his pale gray eyes light against his tanned skin. His hair, slicked to his skull with water, looked as dark as a seal’s pelt. He flashed a smile. A beach ball bounced off his head and he keeled over in the water as though the ball had knocked him out.
High-pitched squeals of glee rang out as the children descended on him. For a moment it was questionable whether the youngsters were trying to rescue him or drown him until they started to tug him to the side of the pool.
Trish rose, her attention on Langley at the grill. “Why don’t you join Hawk and the kids in the pool while I see if I can avoid a culinary disaster at the grill? I’ll loan you a suit. It’s hot as Hades out here.”
Anxiety shot through Zoe and she shook her head, though sweat rolled down between her breasts and along her sides. “I’m all right. Can I do anything to help?” She started to her feet.
