Protecting Jenna (NCIS Series Book 8)

by Zoe Dawson

  “Sounds like you had an idyllic life.”

  He hesitated, then said, his voice quiet, “It was, for the most part. My mom had a firm hand, but she’s the one who taught me to surf. We lived on the ocean, but my mom couldn’t bear the memories of the house, and she sold it and moved to a town house a year ago. She still does the holidays up and loves to cook, so homemade meals are always waiting for me.”

  “I think I would like your mom very much.”

  “She’d love you.”

  Avoiding her gaze, he carefully tucked her hair behind her ear. He finally spoke again, his tone gruff. “The worry about him not coming home was written on my mom’s face every day. When she lost him, she was devastated, and it made me glad that I wasn’t in the Marines anymore. Her worry transferred to me when I was serving. She was really scared after the embassy takeover, but I was determined to be career. But, as you know, that all got waylaid.”

  Cupping his jaw, she stroked the curve of his cheekbone with her thumb. “You’re still in a dangerous profession. Does she worry about you being an NCIS agent?”

  “Some, but not as much. At least I’m not a world away with a whole country trying to kill me.” He smiled and she smiled back at him. “My sisters are there and have been since my dad died. It’s one of the biggest reasons I wanted to come back to California. I was lucky to get the San Diego posting but had to spend a couple of years in Minnesota. Brr.”

  She nodded and shivered. “Brr, indeed.”

  “I’m sorry about you losing your family, Jenna. Talk about hard.”

  “Yes, terribly. My dad was wonderful, but overprotective. My mom died while she was overseas working on an architectural project. She owned her own firm, but my dad sold it outright when she died. He was devastated. I was the spitting image of her, and I think sometimes he’d look at me and think if he wrapped me up in cotton wool, I’d be safe. He’d be livid to know that Robert became an ambassador and took me all over the place. But Ja’arbah was by far the most dangerous of his posts.”

  Covering her mouth in a drugging kiss, his fingers snagging in her hair, Austin caught her by the hips, drawing her fully on top of him, then settled her between his thighs, running his hands along her rib cage until he reached her breasts. His touch sent spirals of sensation through her, and Jenna closed her eyes. “I never want to be controlled like that again. Ever,” she whispered, yielding to his mouth.

  Afterward, Austin had drifted off, but she was unable to sleep for the fluttering of anxiety churning in her gut. This was a fantasy come true, but at some point she was going to be forced to deal with her life. She couldn’t stay in El Centro—there was nothing for her there anymore—and this trip had been temporary. She had finally figured out the path she wanted to take in her life. Working to give the gift of reading to anyone who wanted it filled her with joy and purpose. Kids like Dustin would be able to reap the benefits.

  But this time with Austin was a gift, and she wanted to hold on to that for as long as she could. She was realistic enough to know that there would be countless hazards along the way, and any one of them could destroy something so fragile and new. That realization filled her with such cold hard dread that it sat like a rock in the pit of her stomach.

  And there was Austin. He was worried about both of them falling victim to the adrenaline and heat they had generated under dire circumstances, concerned that after things evened out, so would the passion.

  The only thing that was for certain was the here and now. She had made up her mind that she was going to celebrate the gift she had been given for as long as it was hers to hold. She would make the most of what she had today and worry about tomorrow…tomorrow.

  She dozed fitfully, woke up from a nightmare to the warmth of Austin’s body. He snuggled her close, murmuring something that she couldn’t make out. It comforted her to have him beside her. As soon as he dozed off again, she slipped out of bed. It was early, about six, and she figured the man downstairs guarding them was probably hungry.

  She showered and then dressed. When she came out of the bathroom, Austin was on his back, snoring slightly, his hair mussed, his golden lashes thick on his cheeks. She walked around the bed and pulled the covers over his naked chest, then bent down and kissed him on his slack mouth.

  Exiting the room, she went downstairs. At the sound of her footsteps, a tall, dark man came into the foyer. Geez, NCIS was a handsome-man magnet. His face smoothed out when he saw her. “Ms. Webb, good morning.”

  “Agent Fitzgerald?”

  “Vin. It’s nice to meet you. Where’s Austin?”

  “Still sleeping.”

  He chuckled. “That California boy slacker.”

  She smiled. “He’s actually a hardworking guy.”

  “I’m sure.” He grinned. “I was just kidding.”

  She nodded. “I thought you could use some breakfast. How would you like your eggs?”

  She needed to stay busy to keep her mind off Sarah’s murder, Robert’s possible involvement in it, and the very delectable Austin.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Austin woke up to an empty bed—a bad start to his day. He was already used to having her warm body against him, and he wanted it to stay that way. Dammit. He pushed away the memories of his loneliness and sat up.

  He had more pressing matters to deal with. Like what a complete idiot he was. He’d acted like a love-starved teenager last night, but that dress… Damn that dress and her delectable body in it. The minute he saw her, he’d wanted to do her up against the wall.

  Her ex-husband had been fuel for that fire, like he’d said last night. He wanted to mark her with his scent. Make Webb understand that she was his. Austin shook his head and ran his hand through his hair.

  She was his—for now. Who knew what would happen after she went back to DC? She might decide that everything had been out of control and their relationship was based on nothing but hormones, the need to feel safe, and adrenaline.

  Throwing back the covers and snatching up his clothes, his anger at himself already enough to make him jerky, he slipped out of her room to his and threw his clothes on the floor. He should hang up the jacket, but he instead went to his laptop and opened it. He was about to dial NCIS when he realized he was stark naked. Wouldn’t that surprise the hell out of Drea.

  He went to his suitcase and donned a loose pair of charcoal sweatpants and grabbed the black tee he’d worn last night. Smoothing down his hair, he sent the call through.

  Drea’s face appeared as soon as the screen showed the office.

  “Hey, how’s DC?”

  “Cold and rainy. Did you finish looking into Webb’s financials?”

  With a disappointed look, she nodded. “There’s no large withdrawals, Austin. Nothing. I also checked with the airlines and he didn’t leave DC.”

  “Great,” Austin muttered, anger churning. “Phone records?”

  “Nothing suspicious.”

  He swore loud and long. Drea turned to look over her shoulder while she was cuing the volume control on her remote to Low. Austin rubbed his hands over his face and sat back against the headboard.

  “This case has no damn leads. None. I’m positive he’s behind it. If he didn’t leave DC, he hired someone to kill Jenna. If nothing on his phone is suspicious, then he’s using a burner. He’s behind her getting trapped at work, hunted like an animal. I want him!”

  Drea stepped closer to the screen and said, her voice hard, “Then this isn’t the way to go about it, Austin. You need to keep your emotions under control. I know from experience that losing it doesn’t help anyone. Not you, not the victim, not the family members. Get a grip and get it now. Kai is not happy about any of this. She’s ready to pull you out. So calm down.”

  He took a breath and had to admit that he’d needed that stern talking-to. She was right. He was letting his frustration and anger get in the way of solid investigation and reasoning. He took a breath, then let it out. Looking away from the screen, he wrestled wit
h his annoyance. When he looked back to the screen, Drea relaxed her frown. “Thank you, probie, for that. I needed a dose of cold water.”

  She nodded. “Look, if you’re sure about him, I will keep digging. But right now, there’s nothing to charge him with. When are you coming back to California?”

  “Tomorrow. We have a morning flight.”

  “Okay. Hopefully I’ll find something between then and now but do the interviews for his alibi. Stick to process.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  One corner of her mouth quirked. “I’m not going to address you as ‘sir,’ so you can forget it.”

  He laughed half-heartedly, still peeved.

  “In the meantime, don’t go over to Webb’s house with rubber hoses or brass knuckles to get a confession.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I won’t, and I don’t need rubber hoses and brass knuckles. A good, old-fashioned fist to the face would make me feel a whole lot better.”

  “Curb that.”

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Have some good news for me.” He slammed the laptop lid closed and gathered up clean clothes. Frustration eating him up, he undressed and tossed the clothes out the open door near his suitcase. He turned the water on full blast, then stepped in. He roughly soaped himself, then closed his eyes and let the water beat down on him, using the stinging spray to ease the tension left over from his conversation with Drea. Bracing both hands on the wall of the shower stall, he bent his head and made himself let go of the tension, focusing on the hammering spray and the heat. He was on borrowed time here. If he didn’t come up with a solid lead, Kai was going to pull him off this case. It could go cold or even worse, Jenna could—

  He cut off that thought. That wasn’t going to happen.

  He’d make damn sure of it.

  The hot water was starting to fade when he finally got out, and the room was full of steam. He made a cursory effort to dry himself, then pulled on a clean pair of pants, not bothering to do up the snap. Avoiding his reflection in the fogged mirror, he reached for the can of shaving cream, his mood no better.

  There was a knock at the bedroom door, and he said, “Come in.”

  Jenna poked her head in and smiled at him. “I heard the shower. How would you like your eggs?”

  “Over easy.”

  She eyed him. “Talk about easy on the eyes.”

  He draped a towel around his neck, then smiled, absently rubbing a drop of water off his bare chest. “Why don’t you come over here and say that?” His voice was husky.

  She gave him a soft chuckle and shook her head. “Do I look like I was born yesterday? You’ll have me tied up and there won’t be any eggs to eat.”

  “Mmm-hmm. Tied up. I like the sound of that. I do have my handcuffs.” His voice was even huskier.

  “You are a very bad man.”

  Amusement tugged at his mouth, his frustration and anger were pushed away. He couldn’t seem to hold on to them when she was near. A flood of sensual memories poured over him.

  His eyes must have broadcast what he was thinking. She blushed. “I’m going to make you breakfast now. You’re getting bacon,” she called over her shoulder before she closed the door.

  “I love bacon,” he yelled back.

  The flight back to San Diego was behind them, and they pulled up to Jenna’s apartment. Austin got their luggage inside and took her hand.

  “Let’s sit down for a minute.” He was still irritated, still sure it was her ex-husband, but Kai would get testy soon enough if he wasn’t following other leads. He’d go through the motions if it got him more time with Jenna to protect her from a threat he was sure was very real. Technically, they were walking a thin line here. She was a civilian and the actual target. No one at NCIS would bat an eye if the agency wanted to turn over the protection of Jenna to the local cops. But Austin couldn’t leave her knowing that a killer, a hired gun, was actively stalking her.

  She took off her coat and hung it up. Settling on the sofa, she started to smile when he sat on the coffee table across from her. But he gave her a stern look.

  “We couldn’t find a thing on Robert, Jenna. No suspicious withdrawals or phone calls. His alibi is airtight. All four of the people I talked to remembered he was there at the fundraiser. Drea is going to keep looking, but we’re going to have to move on to different suspects.”

  “How do we do that?”

  “That’s where you come in. I want to know about anyone who you feel might want to do you harm. Anyone come to mind?”

  “No. No one has threatened me.”

  “Anyone paying you overt attention?”

  She bit her lip, and he leaned forward. She looked pensive, then said, “There’s a customer at the library. He’s harmless, though. He’s been pestering me for a date. I tried to be nice at first, but he got angry when I wouldn’t say yes.”

  “What is his name?”

  “Billy Dyer.” He rose, reaching for his cell phone. Jenna rose with him. “I don’t think he could hurt a fly, Austin.”

  “We’re checking it out, Jenna. Have a seat.”

  Her eyes emitted blue flames, but he wasn’t going to leave one thing to chance when it came to her life.

  She sat down with a plop, and he sent a call to Drea. It only took her a moment to get the address. He then dialed Detective Morton. Two uniforms showed up about fifteen minutes later. Jenna’s face was a stony mask, but Austin and Detective Morton left even with Jenna’s protest, telling him again that Billy was not the guy. He realized he was being high-handed, but he was in charge of protecting her life. It was in his hands, and he wasn’t going to fumble this. With the conviction that he was buying time and sure that the real suspect was back in DC, he followed up on the lead. It was routine police work. Check out everyone and everything.

  When they arrived at Billy’s house, Austin knocked. He noticed a pretty nice blue-and-black Charger in the driveway. It was vintage and tricked out. A guy with glasses and a bad combover answered the door. He was shorter than Austin’s six feet and he blinked at them as if he hadn’t seen the light of day for some time. The house behind him was a mess, especially the computer station, where Austin could see a popular game up on the screen.

  “Billy Dyer?”

  “Yes. I’m in the middle of a raid. What do you want? I ain’t interested in what you’re selling.” He went to close the door, but Austin stopped it with his boot. When he flashed his badge and Detective Morton did as well, Billy swallowed hard. “What is this about?”

  “Jenna Webb.”

  He looked excited for a minute. “What about her?”

  “Have you been harassing her? Making unwanted advances?”

  His eyes went wary and his voice dropped. “No. I asked her out a few times. I didn’t do anything illegal.”

  “We need you to come down to the station with us, Mr. Dyer.”

  “What?” His small eyes popped, his mouth agape. “Are you arresting me?”

  “No, we just have some questions for you.”

  Billy protested all the way to the precinct, demanding to be read his rights, saying they couldn’t arrest him without reading him his rights. That was the law, he said, and he knew that because he said he saw it on Law & Order. Once they were in the interrogation room, Billy sat there as if he was on death row. He was fidgety and nervous. “Do I need a lawyer?”

  “I don’t know, Mr. Dyer, do you?” Detective Morton said. He was standing near Billy, an intimidation tactic, while Austin reclined in a chair across from him.

  “Why are you asking me? I’ve never been arrested before.”

  Detective Morton gave Austin a pained expression and sighed. In a weary voice, he said, “For the last time, Mr. Dyer, you’re not under arrest.”

  Billy hunched over the small table. He ran his hands over his thinning hair; even with his eyes wide and nervous, they were too small for his face. His yellow-and-orange-checked shirt had stains on the front, the short sleeves revealing his pasty white, flabby ar
ms. “Feels like it, and that Navy guy is giving me the evil eye. I don’t like him.”

  Austin was feeling exhausted and mean. “I’m not Navy. NCIS is a civilian agency. You can address me as Agent Beck,” Austin bit out.

  Dyer just gave him a hostile look. “I missed my raid because of this,” he muttered.

  “Ms. Webb’s cousin, Sarah Taylor. Did you know her?” Austin set down Sarah’s Navy photo and Billy looked at it.

  He pushed it back. “She came to the library a couple of times, but I didn’t say anything to her. She was talking to Jenna. She was a pilot, huh? That’s cool. But I didn’t kill her.”

  Austin got a text message. He looked down to see it was from Drea. She told him to check his tablet; she’d found something on Dyer’s car. Opening the tablet and pulling up the email, he saw Billy’s Charger parked on the curb across from Jenna’s apartment building with a direct line of sight to Sarah and Jenna’s apartment and Billy behind the wheel. Drea had been going through surveillance footage from the bank across the street ever since the murder. She’d remembered the car.

  Austin turned his pad around. “Is that you, Billy, sitting outside of Ms. Webb’s apartment?”

  “Yeah, so? It’s not against the law to park in the street. I was getting doughnuts.”

  “My associate found more footage of you. You were there in that spot. A lot. There are stalking laws in California, in case you were unaware. It states that if you willfully and repeatedly follow or harass another person with intent to do bodily harm, that’s stalking.”

  “I wasn’t stalking her.” He pushed up his black-framed glasses. “I didn’t do anything to her,” Billy whispered. “I wouldn’t hurt her. I like looking at her.”

  “And that’s not creepy,” Detective Morton muttered.

  “It’s not. She’s beautiful and sh-sh-she’s nice to me. I like her.”