The SEAL’s Ward

by Katie Knight

  His SEAL buddies were still digging through the guy’s background and while he did think the boat thing was an honest mistake on Kevin’s part, there was still something about the guy that didn’t sit right with Jed. At the time Kevin had asked to buy into the timeshare for the Freedom, he’d told Jed that he’d had some inheritance money sitting around from a grandma who’d died, but now Jed doubted that was the case. If he did have some cash stocked away in a bank account somewhere, why the hell wouldn’t he use it to buy himself a better place to live, in a nicer neighborhood?

  He turned onto a residential street and parked near the curb in front of a two-story red brick building, his suspicions growing stronger by the second. Something was definitely off here. There was a rickety baby carriage parked near the front door and trash strewn about. Jed double-checked the number before knocking on the door to the right.

  Moments later, the door opened to reveal a very different Kevin from the one he was used to seeing at the warehouse. At work, Kevin was always clean and pressed and professional. Here, today, he was dressed in torn jeans and a stained white T-shirt with some weird Celtic design on the front. His feet were bare.

  “Jed, what’s going on?” Kevin held up his hand in greeting. “Sorry, wasn’t expecting company.”

  “No problem.” Jed glanced past Kevin into an apartment that didn’t look much cleaner that the street outside. Plates and empty food wrappers were strewn about and the scent of stale cigarettes and musty socks wafted out the door toward him. “Uh, I stopped by to see if you got those cameras fixed yet. I really need them running and installed before the tour on Friday.”

  “Oh, yeah. Sure.” Kevin stepped back. “C’mon in. I’ll get them for you. They’re ready to go, I just forget to bring them with me the other day. Excuse the mess.”

  Jed stood in the middle of the small living room while Kevin closed the door behind him then walked over to a small desk against the far wall. A quick glance around showed a normal bachelor pad beneath the trash—beige walls, beige furniture, no decorations or pictures to speak of.

  Odd since Kevin had a kid.

  He remembered back to that day in the work truck, when Kevin had pulled out that picture of his daughter. At the time, Jed hadn’t given it much thought, but now he didn’t recall seeing much resemblance between Kevin and the little girl. Not that that meant anything in and of itself. He and Nala looked nothing alike, yet she was the daughter of his heart, if not his blood. Still, it was one more thing on a growing list of red flags for Jed where Kevin was concerned.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Kevin asked as he stood at the desk fiddling with the small digital cameras. “I’ve got water and iced tea. I’d offer you a beer, but you’re working so….”

  “Yeah. No. I’m fine.” Jed walked over to the desk to stand beside Kevin. The guy was a few inches taller than Jed, so when he turned slightly, the nape of his neck was practically shoved in Jed’s face. In a spot that was usually covered by the collar of his uniform shirt, Jed saw the black ink of a tattoo.

  His heart lurched. It could be a total coincidence, his rational mind said. The fact that Kevin had a tattoo on the back of his neck, the same spot as the man Nala had drawn of the guy she’d seen in her parents’ driveway the night before they died.

  His instincts said otherwise.

  He squeezed his hands at his sides to relieve some stress and took a deep breath to ease the constriction in his throat. “What’s your ink?”

  “I’m sorry?” Kevin glanced back at him over his shoulder, his gaze wary.

  “The tattoo on your neck. What’s it of?”

  “Oh, that.” Kevin smoothed his hand down the back of his neck as if trying to hide it. “Just some stupid thing I got as a teenager. Started running with the wrong crowd and thought it made me look tougher. Trying to grow my hair out now to cover it up.”

  “Huh.” He didn’t want to spook the guy until he had more proof, so he played along. “Yeah. We all did some pretty dumb crap as kids, eh? Live and learn.”

  “Exactly.” Kevin turned and handed him the cameras. “Here you go, boss. Good as new.”

  “Thanks.” Jed glanced over and at the desk and saw Kevin’s cell phone sitting on it. It buzzed and Kevin grabbed it and unlocked it, frowning at the screen for a moment before setting it back down on the charging pad. “You know,” Jed said, “I think I will take you up on that drink before I get back on the road. Iced tea sounds great.”

  “Awesome. Be right back.”

  Kevin walked into the kitchen, still chattering away about his day off and having to deal with some personal stuff while Jed snatched the cell phone off the pad before the screen went black. Thumbs flying, he quickly got into the settings and turned on the GPS location before taking out his own phone and creating a quick network to connect them wirelessly. If he was right, and Kevin was behind the deaths of Nala’s parents and the threats against the little girl, then he damned well wanted to know what the guy was up to. He managed to get it done and turn Kevin’s phone off, tossing it back onto the charging pad just as the guy walked back into the living room with two glasses of iced tea.

  “Here you go,” Kevin said, handing Jed a glass. If he noticed anything odd, Kevin didn’t show it. Then again, the guy was a SEAL, just like Jed. They were trained not to show their emotions. They stood near the desk, drinking their tea, but Jed could’ve been drinking battery acid for all he noticed. His mind was racing with new ideas about Kevin and how he might be involved in all this. When would he and Martin have crossed paths? What grudge did he have against the Jacksons, and why?

  For his part, Kevin watched Jed over the rim of his glass, his gaze narrowed with interest. A car backfired outside and Jed jumped, the loud noise far too close to gunfire for his comfort.

  He needed to go. Now. He needed to contact his SEAL buddies and let them know what he’d seen. He needed to contact Owen at the FBI and tell him to add Kevin Walker as a person of interest. He needed to go home and make sure that Nala and Tess were safe. But first, he needed to get back to the warehouse and get these damned cameras installed so he could keep Steenman happy.

  Jed downed the rest of his tea in one long swallow then set the glass aside, fumbling his way backward toward the door to keep Kevin in his sights. It wasn’t that he thought the guy might turn violent. Or maybe he would. If Jed’s instincts were correct, the guy had played a part in the deaths of two people already. What was one more?

  “I, uh, need to get back to the office.” He patted the pockets of his suit coat where the cameras were stored. “Thanks again for fixing these. I owe you one.”

  “Yeah, you do,” Kevin said, his flat tone at direct odds with the smile he gave Jed. The disconnect sent a cold shiver up Jed’s spine. Did the guy suspect something? What he’d done to his phone should be undetectable. He’d done it numerous times on SEAL missions and not one person had known the difference. But Kevin was a SEAL himself.

  Dammit.

  It was too late to do anything about it now except pray that it wouldn’t be noticed and that Jed might get some valuable insight into what kind of dangerous game Kevin Walker might be playing.

  “I’ll see you around,” Jed said, giving a quick wave as he hurried out the door.

  Kevin walked over to watch him as he rushed over to his SUV and climbed inside. The last thing Jed heard before he slammed the vehicle door was Kevin calling, “Count on it.”

  Twenty-Eight

  “More mashed potatoes?” Tess asked that night over the dinner table. Things had been even tenser than usual tonight, with Jed spending most of his time locked in his office since he’d come home from work. Tess had gone ahead and cooked for them all—pork chops, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Nothing fancy, but hearty stuff for a chilly autumn night.

  Jed didn’t answer her right away, too busy staring at his phone, which seemed glued to his hand tonight.

  “Jed, she’s talking to you.” Nala giggled. “You always yel
l at me for bringing my iPad to the table.”

  “What?” He looked up, his expression going from confused to contrite in two seconds flat. “Sorry. Lots going on, sweetie. But you’re right. It’s rude to stare at screens instead of the people around you while you’re having dinner.” He put the phone away in his jeans pocket then gave Tess a weary smile. “Did you ask me something?”

  She wanted to say that she’d asked him what was wrong, but instead went with the truth. “I asked if you wanted more potatoes.”

  “Oh, uh. No thanks. I’m full.”

  “You barely ate anything.” Tess glanced down at his half-full plate then back to his eyes. Emotions flickered there—guilt, need, worry, hurt. She longed to move around the table and pull him into her arms and tell him that she didn’t care if he never loved her, that her love was enough for both of them, but she couldn’t do it. She’d made up her mind to give her notice and move to DC with her friend.

  No wavering this time.

  She set the bowl back down on the table and wiped her mouth with her napkin before reaching for her glass of milk. “Nala passed her spelling quiz today. One hundred percent. Later, I even gave her a couple of algebra equations for good measure, just to see where she was at, skill-wise, in other areas.”

  Nala made a face. “Ew. Algebra. All those letters and numbers get all jumbled up. Yuck.”

  Jed snorted. “That’s the general opinion about algebra.”

  “I liked math,” Tess said, standing to take her empty plate to the sink, then turning to grab Nala’s dish as well. “But I was better at geometry than algebra.”

  “Back in high school, I had a teacher who said most people were good at one or the other, depending on which side of your brain was more dominant.”

  “Your brain has sides?” Nala asked, clearly skeptical.

  “It’s got two halves. They work together to control your body. Right brain controls the left side, left brain controls the right. They coordinate so well that you never notice the separate parts. They become one.” Tess looked over to find Jed watching her with that icy stare of his and heat prickled her cheeks. Too bad they couldn’t have worked so seamlessly together. “People say the right half is more creative, so if you’re an artist or you’re left-handed, then you’re right brain dominant. If you’re more analytical or right-handed, then you’re left brain dominant.”

  “What about reading?” Nala asked. “Which brain half does that?”

  “Both, I think.” Tess finished rinsing their dishes and put them in the dishwasher. “Why all this sudden interest in brains tonight?”

  Nala laughed. “I like science. What can I say?”

  “You can say you’re going upstairs to get ready for bed,” Jed said, leaning over to tickle her, making Nala squirm and laugh harder. “Get moving, young lady.”

  “Stop.” Nala grinned. “I want to stay down here with you guys. It’s like we’re a real family again.”

  The words were like a scalpel to the heart. Tess sucked in a breath and turned around to face the sink. A few weeks ago, she would’ve been over the moon to hear Nala say something like that. Now, it just hurt too damned much to bear. If only Jed would see that he was worthy, that he was good enough, that they could be a real family. If only….

  “Up to bed you go,” Jed said, pushing to his feet. The sound of Nala’s footsteps scampering away reverberated through the kitchen. “Tess and I have stuff to talk about.”

  “You guys are gonna kiss again, huh?” Nala called from the staircase.

  “No, we’re not,” Jed said, his tone sounding a bit sad. He moved in beside Tess and placed his dishes on the counter. “Upstairs.”

  Nala’s footsteps faded away and Tess’s cheeks flamed hotter as memories of her and Jed doing far more than kissing flooded her mind. She took the plates from him as he cleared the table, murmuring her thanks without looking at him. Once they’d gotten the table cleared and dinner put away, Tess wiped down the counter then draped the dishtowel over the front of the sink to dry. Now would be as good a time as any to tell Jed of her plans to leave, but for some reason she couldn’t seem to make the words come out.

  “We need to talk,” he said at last from behind her. He stood close enough for her to feel the heat of him through her jeans and sweater, yet far enough away that they weren’t touching at all. Her gut cramped at the edge to his voice. Maybe she wouldn’t need to tell him anything at all about DC. Maybe he was going to kick her out here and now. She closed her eyes and gave a small nod, preparing herself for the worst. All the memories of Theo’s death rushing back—the call from her co-workers at the clinic, the solemn expressions on their faces, the haunted looks in their eyes. The way her universe had imploded, not with an explosion, but with one sentence. Your fiancé committed suicide.

  Instead, Jed said the last thing she’d expected to hear. “I think we’ve got a good idea who might be behind the attacks on Nala and her parents.”

  Tess blinked a couple of times, absorbing the words. “What?”

  Jed cocked his head toward the living room and they moved in there to take a seat on the sofa. He peered up the stairs to make sure they weren’t being spied on, then continued. “Early today I ran over to Kevin’s house to pick up a couple of faulty security cameras he was fixing for me for the warehouse. Do you remember the drawing that Nala did a while ago about the man from her dream?”

  “The one of the bald guy with the tattoo?”

  “Yep.” Jed exhaled slow and scrubbed a hand over the top of his head. “I have reason to believe that man might have been Kevin.”

  “What?” Tess’s eyes widened, and she bit her lips then lowered her voice. “Sorry. What? How could Kevin be involved? I thought he was your friend.”

  “He’s my employee. There’s a difference.” He shook his head. “But yeah, I trusted the guy. Had no reason not to until today.”

  “Did he attack you or something?”

  “No. Nothing that obvious. But he’s got a tattoo, like the one Nala drew. And there’s some other things about him that have bothered me for a while. Like he told me he has a kid, but there are no pictures, nothing in his house for his family at all. I mean, he’s divorced, and he said his ex-wife took the kids and moved to California, but still. Look at all the stuff of Nala’s I’ve got around here and she’s not even mine. Not technically anyway.”

  She could be.

  Tess bit back those words and instead leaned against the sofa cushions, thinking about the information she’d just learned. “Huh. Maybe the tattoo is just a coincidence. I’m sure more than one person has one on their neck.”

  “True, but not all those people were SEALs.” He sat back too, his leg brushing hers as they settled in. “My buddy at the FBI said they’ve determined that whoever cut the brake lines on the Jacksons’ car had ties to the military and the SEALs. He also thought it might have been a hired hit.”

  Her heart dropped to her toes. “You mean someone paid money to have Nala’s parents killed? But why?”

  “Still trying to figure that out. Me and the guys went over all our old missions after I got home tonight. We conference called. It makes no sense. Sure, sometimes an assignment would go sideways, but that’s just life—none of my guys were ever considered at fault. Martin Jackson was a good man. Always looking out for others. Always shining a light into the darkness. Always trying to do what was right. What could anyone have against a man like that?”

  A sickening idea occurred. “Maybe that’s what got him in trouble. Do you think he could’ve blown the whistle on the wrong person? Maybe stuck his nose in where it didn’t belong?”

  “No clue. We went over all of the missions and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Not long before Martin’s discharge, we had a couple of humanitarian missions in Afghanistan, a rescue mission in Vietnam, and a hostage rescue in Iraq.” He sighed, lowering his head. “That last one was rough. We lost a couple of guys on that one. Not from my team, but from another SEAL unit. Th
eir leader, Scott, died a hero. Got the Medal of Honor and everything, posthumously. He was Nathan Steenman’s son.”

  “Oh, wow.” Tess took that in. “That’s…wow.”

  “Yeah. When I met with Steenman a week or so ago, he mentioned his son dying a hero, but I didn’t put it together until now. That’s why he does all his charitable work, he said, to keep his son’s memory alive.” Jed rubbed his eyes. “Anyway, that’s why he hires a lot of vets too. Kevin’s been with his company a few years. But there’s something not right with Kevin. I can feel it.”

  “So, what are you going to do?” Tess wanted to reach over and take his hand but refrained.

  “Besides what we’re already doing, we’re going to just watch the guy as close as we can and try and catch him when he slips up. Until then, I need you to be extra careful, okay?” He met Tess’s gaze, his eyes filled with concern. “If something happened to either of you, I’m not sure what I’d do. If you see or hear anything that looks suspicious, please let me know. Promise?”

  “Promise.” She hugged her arms around herself against the sudden chill while warmth suffused her at his words. He didn’t know what he’d do without her. She felt the same way, and yet she was prepared to leave. She opened her mouth to tell him about her plans, then stopped. Tonight wasn’t the time, not with the bombshell he’d just dropped. Tomorrow. She’d tell him tomorrow. More troubling thoughts cluttered her head. “Do you think what happened on the boat was deliberate?”

  “At first, no. But now, I’m not writing anything off. Looking back, all of the things that have happened could have easily been written off as simple mistakes or accidents unless you looked closer to connect the dots. But there are a few threads that tie back to him. He recommended that restaurant we went to in DC—when I thanked him for the suggestion, I told him what night we had reservations. He could have known when I wouldn’t be home and planned for the attack on Nala that night.” Jed let his head fall back against the cushions and stared at the ceiling. “Now, I’m seeing Kevin as the bogeyman lurking around every corner. I need to get my head clear, so I can approach this rationally. I need to keep control.”