by Regan Black
“She did.”
“Well, it could be worse, son.” Ben opened the office door. “Could be Christmas.”
Chapter 11
With twilight creeping along the beach, Grace Ann sneaked a glance at Derek as her family relaxed on the deck. Seated at the other end of the picnic table, he was handling the chaos of her family like a pro.
Her nephew Caleb, fifteen now, was talking her ears off with a play-by-play of his latest soccer tournament. The kid was definitely headed for an athletic scholarship if he kept up the hard work. She found it hilarious, considering how much her brother Matt preferred American football, but was now a soccer dad.
“Are you surfing in the morning, Aunt Gracie?”
“Rain or shine,” she told him. Her rash guard and board shorts would hide the worst of the bruising on her hip and leg from her family. “You’ll probably want to sleep in.”
“No way.”
Overhearing her son, Bethany snorted. “Why is it the only time I don’t have to drag you out of bed is when we’re at the beach?”
“Surfing is more fun than geometry.”
Caleb ducked when she tossed a marshmallow at him. He flashed the sweet grin the Riley boys always used to get out of any trouble. Grace Ann recognized it easily. Her brothers had applied that same expression to wear down their mother when they misbehaved.
“He comes by it naturally,” Grace Ann said to Bethany when Caleb heeded a summons from his uncle Luke down on the beach below.
“Don’t I know it.” Bethany rested a hand on the first hint of a baby bump under her loose peasant top.
Grace Ann smiled at the telling motion. As much as her dad teased her mom about it, the truth was the entire family was eager to dote on Bethany and the new grandbaby. She couldn’t wait to spoil her new niece or nephew from day one. While none of them blamed Bethany, they were all making up for time lost.
“Grace Ann?”
“Sorry.” She gave Bethany her full attention. “Zoned out for a sec. What did I miss?”
“I was complimenting Derek. Mark told me he survived the office visit with Ben.”
“He did. Though I got the impression your arrival saved him.” Grace Ann hadn’t had a chance to hear what they’d spent nearly an hour discussing, though she had a good idea. “We’re sleeping together,” she said without thinking. “Sharing a room, I mean. In case Mark didn’t mention that, too.”
“If you’re looking this way for censure or judgment, you’ll be disappointed.”
“Thanks for that,” Grace Ann said. Bethany had been an instant friend and a welcome addition to the family. “I’m an adult,” she added. “Dad doesn’t need to give him the third degree.”
“He can’t help it,” Bethany said, patting her hand. “He’s concerned, especially after the hunter targeted you.”
“Hopefully Hank will show up soon with some news to put us all at ease.” And her luggage. She kept a few basics here, but Derek didn’t have anything other than the clothes on his back. Way to make a hard situation worse. She aimed the thought in Hank’s direction.
Bethany scooted closer and lowered her voice. “The person pulling the strings is dangerous, Grace Ann.”
“I’m aware and taking it seriously.” She rubbed her aching hip. It was time to go for another walk. “It’s like a puzzle without a border,” she mused. “He obviously wants Dad to suffer. I’d like to take him out with my bare hands for that alone.”
Bethany murmured an agreement. “If he thinks any of the Riley kids are weak links, he’s in for a rude awakening.”
Grace Ann sipped the peach tea in her glass. She feared that she was the weak Riley and would fail the next challenge. Oh, she wouldn’t intentionally turn on her family or compromise her father, but a PTSD breakdown or being found guilty of misconduct would put a serious stain on the general’s otherwise sterling reputation.
“Grace Ann?”
She blinked several times, until her gaze focused on Derek’s face. He’d crouched in front of her, his friendly smile setting butterflies loose in her belly. She hadn’t even heard him approach.
“Care to take a walk with me?”
“Sure.” She popped to her feet, regretting it immediately when her leg protested the quick move. Derek moved close, hiding her bobble and wince from the others.
Once she got moving, her muscles loosened up and the little dig of pain eased back to a dull ache. “I need to remember it doesn’t take long for me to stiffen up,” she said when they were down on the beach and out of earshot.
“You haven’t told anyone but Hank about getting hit by the car?”
She shook her head, then realized he might not have seen the movement in the fading light. “Not much point.”
With the ocean rolling in, the breeze in her face and the sand squishing under her bare feet, she felt calmer. “This was a good idea,” she said.
“I have them once in a while.”
He laced his fingers through hers and she glanced around guiltily. Why did such a casual touch feel so out of place after the far more intimate acts they’d shared?
“Want me to let go?” he asked.
“No.” She didn’t like needing him, but his touch pushed away the loneliness and worry about what they might have to face when Hank showed up. “Did my dad put you through the wringer?”
“Not exactly. Matt, however...”
She stopped short when his voice trailed off. “Oh, I can take him,” she said. “He forgets I fight dirty.”
“You do realize you’re adults?”
“We’re barely two years apart,” she said, helpless against the warm burst of affection for her brother. “Conflict is what we do best.”
Derek started walking again, continuing down the beach. “To an outsider, the Rileys look pretty united.”
She hoped it stayed that way. “Matt’s no saint. You don’t have to put up with any crap from him.”
A low laugh rumbled out of him.
“Why is that funny?”
He laughed harder. “Now I’m offended on his behalf. As an older brother myself, I feel a certain solidarity.”
With a snort, she shook free and moved closer to the line of moonlit foam gleaming on the sand. The water was cool yet, but it felt good rolling up over her toes and ankles.
“It doesn’t make you weak to need someone.” He stood just behind her, the heat from his chest radiating warmth against her back.
“I know that.” The army was about working as a unit, each person pulling their weight. She knew the value of teamwork. “Fear is eroding everything that makes me feel strong,” she admitted.
His arms came around her, his hands loosely stacked at her waist. He was giving her room to make her choice. She could lean into his support or step away with minimal effort.
She leaned back into him. “I keep seeing H.B.’s face,” she said.
“Hard not to,” Derek replied. “Needing a break from what you do best doesn’t make you weak, either.”
“Give it up,” she said. “Bingham already tried and failed to convince me the suspension had a silver lining.”
“You sure about that?” He brushed his lips to her shoulder, followed the curve up her neck. Her nerves tingled in response, all the way to her fingertips and down her spine. “Would we be here otherwise?”
No. Guilt cast a shadow over every sensation and thought. His brother’s injury. Her father’s reputation. His stable life. All of that was in jeopardy because a madman had taken aim at her.
“Shh. You aren’t the cause or reason for any of this trouble, Grace Ann.” He nuzzled her shoulder as she stared out over the black expanse of the ocean. “You are strong. Don’t let a vengeance-induced crisis blur the truth.”
This tenderness was a new layer of him she found addictive. His words floated over her skin, s
eeped into her system, soothing all the places left raw and aching from recent events. She turned within the circle of his arms and simply stared into the shadows of his face. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, letting her come to him. Curling her hands behind his neck, she brought his mouth down to hers. In the kiss she told him everything she couldn’t say out loud. Not yet.
He made her feel whole and beautiful. He gave her a hope that had gone missing somewhere in the dust of that hollowed-out school. In him she found a love she craved, a love that would last and last. The minute this was over, she’d tell him.
His hands splayed across her back, down over her hips and he boosted her up. On a wordless plea, she wrapped her legs around him, clinging like a burr as the kiss spun out. Feasting on the dizzying sensations, she let everything else fall away. The world contracted to this moment. Her heartbeat originated with his; her breath came from his lungs.
“Don’t let go,” she said, her lips following the striking line of his jaw. “Don’t let go.”
“Never.” He stood strong, giving her more than she had any right to ask.
She tossed back her head and a flash of heat lightning streaked across the water to the south.
“We should get back,” she said as thunder rolled, closer than she expected. “We’re likely to get soaked.”
She took his hand and started off at a brisk walk until the first drops splattered against her shirt. Bumping up the pace, they jogged side by side on the softer sand just above the tide line. The rain caught up with them, dousing them as they scrambled over the path through the dunes to the house.
The lights were still on at the corners of the deck, but everyone had wisely moved indoors as the storm rolled in. They came in, laughing and dripping on the rug inside the sliding door, and she felt her entire family staring at them.
Bethany was tucked under Matt’s arm on the love seat. Caleb, Mark and Luke were on the floor, the colorful video game frozen on the television. Her sister and mother had turned away from whatever they’d been doing at the kitchen island. Hank stood with her father in the open door of his study. “Hi?” she ventured.
“Welcome back.” Patricia waved them in. “You’d best get into dry clothes. Hank and your father have news.”
Grace Ann’s bright mood plummeted. Maybe she and Derek weren’t meant to have more than private moments squeezed in between crises. “We’ll be right back down.” Before anyone could say anything else, she led Derek up the back stairs to the bedroom they would share.
They changed clothes without a word and Grace Ann gathered up their soaked clothing and dropped it off in the laundry room. She appreciated his stoic silence almost as much as she appreciated his fast kiss loaded with encouragement before they returned to the family room.
Hank immediately waved them into the office, closing the door behind them. “First off,” he began, “Kevin’s doing great and sends his best.”
“You saw him?” Derek asked.
“He asked to see me after his interview.” Hank tucked his hands into the pockets of the windbreaker he hadn’t yet removed. “Sounds like that went well. The investigator did ask him about the fictional MP you mentioned for the sake of the bugs in your house.”
“Fake news travels fast,” Derek muttered. “You protected her against any blowback, right?”
Hank cocked an eyebrow, relenting when Derek didn’t back down. “I did. That confirms someone listening to the bugs fed the intel to a legit investigator. The JAG office has been made aware of our effort to identify and trap the Riley Hunter.”
“Stop calling him that,” Grace Ann grumbled.
Hank ignored her. “Unfortunately, while we’re a step closer, there is more bad news.”
Grace Ann crossed her arms over her chest, waiting.
“H.B. is dead.”
The words didn’t register at first. “You’re mistaken,” she protested. “Bingham would’ve called. He was stabilized. The burns were bad, but...but he’s at Walter Reed. Stable.”
“Gracie, I’m sorry.” But Hank didn’t look sorry. He looked as though there was even more he didn’t want to share.
“How?” Her dad stepped over to offer comfort and she held up a hand, stopping him. “When?”
“A few hours ago. We’ve kept his death quiet while we investigate,” Hank explained. “He was stable. This morning, he told his care team he wanted to make a statement about what he saw last night. Because Bingham and I have been in contact since you were suspended, she arranged for me to see him.”
Bewildered, she just sat down. “His doctor approved that?” she asked, shocked.
Hank nodded. “But he died before I got there.”
Grace Ann didn’t know who to look at or where to turn. Part of her mind retreated to the dark beach and the sweet place where nothing could intrude on her time with Derek.
“An autopsy has been ordered. Bingham allowed me to go through his desk and computer files in the office. We got lucky when we found his personal laptop was in the office as well. I’ve searched that, too.”
Based on his grim expression, he’d found something damaging. Although Hank had a mile-wide serious streak, he knew how to cut loose. She was trying to remember the last time she’d seen him relax since taking the lead on the team searching for the Riley Hunter.
“You think H.B. was the inside guy,” Derek said.
“What?” She reached for Derek’s hand on instinct. Hank’s raised eyebrows brought her attention to where she’d sought comfort. She didn’t pull away. Derek was involved now, and for better or worse, she wasn’t ready to deal with whatever came next without him.
“Derek’s right,” Hank said. “H.B. was a traitor to your unit and someone used him against you specifically,” Hank explained, his voice strained. “He wasn’t acting alone.”
Ben muttered an oath.
Hank turned toward Derek. “According to files I found on H.B.’s personal laptop, he received instructions on how to create the malfunction that resulted in the helo crash. Reviewing the logs from the training exercise, he wasn’t able to get back to the flight line after Grace Ann was benched.”
Her stomach pitched. She let go of Derek and dropped her head to her hands. “It should be me in recovery.”
“It shouldn’t be anyone!” the general bellowed.
Grace Ann jumped. She hadn’t heard him raise his voice in anger since Mark and Luke got caught trying to hot-wire a jeep during her senior year of high school. Her dad stalked around his desk and dropped into the chair, his face mottled with fury.
“Someone, presumably the Riley Hunter, turned him against you,” Hank said again. “I don’t have the full picture yet, but it’s clear he was involved. He carried out some orders and passed other orders along to someone else.”
“It couldn’t have taken much. H.B. and I were like oil and water,” Grace Ann said. “We could barely pry him out of the office on that last deployment and he hated how I volunteered for every off-base outreach opportunity.”
“He wasn’t at the school in the village when it was bombed?” Hank asked.
“Are you kidding?” She shook her head. “He probably wet himself reading the report.”
Hank sat on the window seat and extended his legs, crossing them at the ankle. “He filed the report of your misconduct. I found a copy of the letter on his computer, claiming he witnessed you prioritizing civilians over military personnel.”
“That doesn’t make sense. I mean, sure he hates me, but to fabricate those charges is a little much, even for him,” Grace Ann said after a moment. “If he’d been caught his career would’ve been over, too.”
“True.” Hank rocked a little, thinking. “The Riley Hunter wouldn’t care about the fallout.”
She couldn’t stop the quick shiver as dread trickled down her spine. Derek propped his hip on the arm of her chair and she
leaned closer to him. Every new detail nipped at her confidence, her certainty that the Riley Hunter could be found and caught.
“Did H.B. have a tattoo on the inside of his wrist?” Derek pointed to a spot on his arm. “The person who attacked her in the stairwell had a tattoo right about here.”
“No tattoos,” Hank and Grace Ann said in unison. “I’ll pass that on to the team picking through H.B.’s effects.”
“So the attacker in the stairwell was someone the Riley Hunter hired?” Grace Ann asked.
“Probably.” With a glance toward Ben, he continued. “H.B. left a letter claiming responsibility for the bombing.” He held her gaze. “His letter explains that he planted a device built by someone else that was delivered to him at a predetermined location.”
“She’s still in danger then,” Derek said.
“You both are,” Hank said. “H.B. had a file on you and had recently searched through Kevin’s personal data. I’d like to tell you nothing will come of it, but I don’t know what to expect next.”
Hank sighed as Ben continued to fume. “We know the Riley Hunter is the mastermind pulling the strings and we know he uses mercenaries. However he felt about you, these actions seem extreme. I need to find out what our madman had on him. H.B.’s confession bothers me most. Why, when he had no expectation of being hurt, would he leave that kind of damning evidence behind?”
“He expected to die,” Derek said into the quiet. “Maybe not at the bomb site, but soon. He’d failed at the helicopter and he had to know the accusation and suspension would eventually backfire. He might have been having second thoughts about what he’d gotten into. Or maybe he was covering his bases, knowing the bomb was his last chance.”
“You’re saying he was murdered for being a screwup?” The idea was so dreadful, though she could see the logic. She had to hold her muscles tight when they wanted to tremble.
“That lines up with my theory,” Hank said. “Everyone expected him to survive his burns. We’re going over the surveillance footage, searching for a likely culprit.”
