Protecting Jenna (NCIS Series Book 8)

by Zoe Dawson

  Something in his tone, something in his eyes, set off a fierce ache in Jenna’s chest, and her throat got so tight that she wasn’t sure she could swallow.

  He cupped her face, then with a heavy sigh, he lowered his head and gave her the sweetest, softest kiss. Releasing another sigh, he lifted his head and gazed at her, something in his eyes making her shiver. She smoothed her hands up his back and murmured against his mouth. “I’m going to miss you, too.” She ran her hands over his stubble, then into his silky hair. “Go to sleep. You’ve got a drive to make and it would be better if you had some sleep under your belt.”

  He closed his eyes, but dragged her closer, and she couldn’t stop the burn of tears that finally let loose as she cried silently against his shoulder.

  The next time she woke up, a heavenly smell was coming from the kitchen. She got up and slipped a sweatshirt over her T-shirt and dragged on a pair of jeans. Her stomach took a nosedive as she saw Austin’s open suitcase at the end of the bed. When she came out of her room, she found him in the kitchen.

  “Whatever you made, it smells delicious.”

  “Good timing, lady. It’s almost ready. I was about to wake you up.” She took a deep breath as he dished out two steaks, potatoes, and green beans. He offered her the plates as he went to the fridge and poured them each a cup of iced tea.

  At the table they started eating. “I see you’re not packed yet.”

  “I took the liberty of throwing some stuff in the washing machine. It’s almost dry.”

  She nodded. Twilight settled into darkness, and they sat in companionable silence as the wind that seemed to have picked up moaned at the window sash. They talked about where he lived in San Clemente and how close his very nice apartment was to the beach.

  “I could teach you to surf if you come to San Clemente.”

  She smiled and nodded. “I would love that.”

  After they finished their dinner, Jenna cleaned up, and Austin went to pack. She worked at trying to disconnect from the cold, hard reality that Austin was minutes away from leaving. She had the dishes in the dishwasher, and everything wiped up by the time he rolled his suitcase out of the bedroom to the front door.

  He stood there, and she caught her breath, wavering for a minute, then realized how disappointed she’d be in herself if she caved in and let people take care of her. She had to find her own footing. She had to do it without Austin’s wonderful presence.

  She tried to brace herself for what was coming, but nothing could soften this reality. He was leaving, and she had to let him.

  “You going to give me a hug and one last kiss before I go?”

  She was across the kitchen in seconds, her arms around his neck, the chill of being without him already settling into her bones. She closed her eyes against it, her heart suddenly too big for her chest. As if he sensed her reaction or felt the same way, he tightened his hold.

  She hugged him hard, hanging on to him for as long as she dared, then she physically pulled herself together. She wasn’t going to make a scene, and she wasn’t going to make it any harder on them than it already was. She had made her choice. Now she had to learn to live with it.

  Then he kissed her, his mouth fiercely gentle. “Keep in touch, Jenna. I owe you a surfing lesson.”

  This was the second time she was saying goodbye to him. Hugging herself, her throat so tight she couldn’t answer, she nodded.

  He stared at her for an instant, the muscles of his jaw bunching. Then he was gone, the door closing behind him.

  She stood there for a moment, not sure what to do. At a total loss. She wanted to run out the door, chase him down and beg him to stay. But he had a job to get back to, and she had her life to figure out. Instead of doing something foolish, she went into the bedroom and packed up all her clothing except her nightclothes and what she was wearing tomorrow. Then she went into the bathroom and ran a bath.

  Settling into the tub, she lit some candles and leaned back to let the heat work at the pain of having to say goodbye to the one man on this earth she never wanted to let go of.

  When she was ready to get out, she reached for a towel, rising from the tub as water sluiced off her body. She stepped out and dried off.

  As she reached for her robe, the lights went out.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jenna stood frozen in the semi-darkness, her gaze darting to the bathroom door. The wind outside swelled, the moaning getting under her skin and making it buzz with pinpricks of uneasiness. It must be the wind. It had knocked down a power line, caused a transponder to explode.

  She tightened the belt around her waist and went into her bedroom, planning on grabbing her phone and calling Scott to find out. But when she got to her bedroom, she realized she’d left her phone on the counter in the kitchen.

  That was where the flashlight was, as well. Going back into the bathroom, she picked up a candle, careful not to spill the wax that had accumulated on top as she’d soaked. She swallowed hard. What had Sarah thought when the lights had gone out for her? She hadn’t had the benefit of a candle to light her way when she’d gone to retrieve the flashlight.

  When she came out of her bedroom, she stopped dead. A man was standing in her kitchen, and he was talking on the phone. She glanced at the front door and started to move toward it.

  Then she recognized his voice. It was Scott. He was already here? She frowned. She got close enough to hear what he was saying.

  “Yes, this is Jenna Webb calling. The power has gone out in my apartment—again. Could you come and fix it?” he said in a falsetto voice. Then he started talking in a normal voice. “I’m sorry, Ms. Webb. You’re not going to need any light where you’re going.”

  His face looked cold and empty even in the glow of the candlelight. She backed up. “What is this about?”

  He chuckled. “I’m here to finish the job I was paid to do.” He pulled a Bluetooth mic away from his ear.

  “You called your own phone and answered with the Bluetooth. That was your alibi.”

  “Yeah, pretty effective. This thing has an amazing reach.”

  Tucking it in his pocket, he pulled out some flex cuffs. “I made a mistake. First time in my life by the way. Usually when I’m hired to snuff someone out, I get it right the first time. You caused me a big mess, Jenna. But I believe in second chances, don’t you?”

  He advanced on her and Jenna reacted. She threw the lit candle at his face. He screamed as she reached for a lamp and clobbered him across the face with the base. Then she was running for the door, but before she could get there, it burst open, the bright light from the hall illuminating several uniforms, Jack and…Austin. All of them had their guns drawn, but there was no need to subdue Scott Posner, her super.

  He was out cold on the floor.

  Austin holstered his weapon as Jack and the uniforms headed for Scott. She headed for Austin, and he wrapped her up in a strong embrace.

  Ambassador Robert Webb’s Residence

  Washington, DC

  Hours later, Jenna stood outside what had once been her home, alongside Austin and Agent Beau Jerrott. Austin glanced at her and she took a big breath. He knocked. Marta opened the door, her face as dour as usual.

  All the way to DC, Jenna had stewed over everything. Austin hadn’t believed that Mitch Campbell was Sarah’s killer. He hadn’t spent the time at the precinct at all. Of course, Austin hadn't wanted to alarm her. If it turned out that Mitch had been the killer, he wouldn't have had to get involved at all. But if the killer was someone else, he would be prepared. He’d bought a security camera, a very small one, and positioned it across the hall from her, up on the ceiling to monitor her apartment door. He’d put a plainclothes El Centro policeman on Scott, convinced that he was the man who had killed Sarah. He knew the phone call from Sarah’s phone to him could have been staged. He’d been betting it was. With no way to prove Scott had been present in the apartment, Austin had set a trap for him. He had apologized to Jenna, wanting her to know, b
ut not wanting to worry her. He needed her genuine responses when setting Scott up.

  After Austin interrogated Scott for most of the night, he confessed that her ex-husband had paid him to kill her. He’d had no choice but to confess; his blood, collected at the library where he’d attacked Jenna, would match, as well as the indentation from his ring that had left a distinct bruise on Sarah’s face. The thin latex gloves couldn’t mask the distinct impression. The call from his colleague Drea had confirmed he’d been on the right track. The medical examiner had matched the ring to the bruise. Scott said Jenna’s ex-husband’s instructions had been succinct. He’d wanted Jenna to die in the dark through strangulation, in the kitchen where she belonged. No other way would suffice, and the second half of Scott’s payment hinged on his instructions being followed to the letter. Robert had hired an assassin to pose as the super to gain access to the apartment to kill her.

  She felt sick to her stomach. Scott had confessed that he had mistaken Sarah for Jenna. He’d sent Sarah the tickets, expecting her to be thrilled to get to go see her favorite artist, but he’d underestimated how much she’d been dedicated to the Blue Angels.

  Billy died because Posner couldn’t take the chance that Billy could identify him. Scott had been on the phone to himself to set up his alibi when Billy's peeping caught him in the glow of Sarah's phone. Austin had already put it together that Scott had called his own phone, using Sarah’s.

  Poor Mitch. He had been totally innocent. Scott told Austin that he had knocked the guy out and tied him up. Then he’d gone to Billy’s house and killed him with Mitch’s gun. Then once back at his apartment, he’d forced the man to kill himself. If he didn’t, Scott would make sure that Tina died as horribly as he could manage it. They’d never find her body. Mitch’s autopsy revealed that he’d been struck on the back of the head. The suicide note was written to Tina, not Jenna. Scott hadn't realized the note was meant for Tina, since it wasn't addressed to her and he didn't really care. But Mitch’s self-sacrifice at least wouldn’t be in vain.

  Now they were back at her ex-husband’s, and Jenna couldn’t seem to contain the overwhelming rage that surged within her. Agent Beau Jerrott was with them from the DC office, as the law dictated only law enforcement from the resident state could make an arrest of the suspect.

  When Marta saw Jenna, her eyes widened. “Mrs. Webb.”

  She had plans to change back to her maiden name but hadn't quite done it yet. She was determined to start the process as soon as possible. “Don’t address me that way, Marta. I’m not Mrs. Webb anymore, and thank God for that. Is Robert home?”

  “He’s having his breakfast.”

  “Oh, good. He’s not busy.” She breezed past the woman and ignored her strident protests. Robert looked up at the commotion, his eyes narrowing and his mouth pinching. “What are you doing here, Jenna?”

  “You son of a bitch,” she said, her tone low and fierce. She pulled out a cell phone and pressed a number. A phone began to ring.

  He glanced at his suitcoat, his eyes wide. “Aren’t you going to answer it?” she asked with a cold, twisted smile.

  He closed his eyes, his face going pale, disappointment and hatred in his expression. “I want my lawyer.”

  Austin stepped close to Jenna. “You’re going to need one, Ambassador.” He squeezed her arm, then went around the table and hauled her ex-husband to his feet. Austin cuffed him and started to read him his rights.

  Agent Jerrott said, "You're under arrest, Mr. Webb."

  Something broke in her, and something cold and deadly started to unfold. She stared at her ex-husband, her eyes unwavering. Jenna marched forward and drew her hand back and slapped him across the face as hard as she could. The pain from the blow reverberated up her arm into her shoulder, her palm stinging. Her tone deadly quiet, she said, “You killed Sarah. I hope when they shove you into that cell, they throw away the key.”

  She slapped him again and turned away in distaste, the muscles of her jaw rigid. God, he made her sick. She gripped the table, then bent over and clenched her jaw so hard, her muscles cramped.

  Minutes later Austin was back. He reached for her, but she stepped back. “Thank you for letting me come along. I’m sorry. I’ve got to go. I appreciate everything,” she said, her gut full of ice and bitterness.

  She brushed past Austin and left the house that had been the host of so much unhappiness. She got behind the wheel of her car, blindly drove to her town house and went inside. She was safe now. Safe, but Sarah was dead, and it was all her fault. She clutched her stomach and sunk down against the front door, reliving the awful feeling that had churned through her when Austin had come out of the interrogation room and told her that Robert had hired a hitman to kill her. Scott had had strict orders to make sure it was in the dark, helpless with her hands bound. He was supposed to deliver a message. I will always be your master. I will take your life and leave you alone in the dark like you left me.

  But because of a twist of fate, Sarah had died in her place, her young life snuffed out. Jenna braced her head against the back of the door, finally giving in to the intolerable pressure in her chest. It was also the accumulated strain of years of worry and moments of heart-stopping unhappiness. For years, she had shoved constant anxiety to the back of her mind, refusing to give in to it. But now, bereft, guilty and alone, huddled on the floor, it took her under, as if, after months of stockpiling the fear and the panic and the frightening uncertainty, her own internal dam had broken.

  It seemed like an eternity before she cried herself out, her harsh sobs dwindling to the occasional ragged one. Pressing the heels of her hands against her throbbing, swollen eyes, she forced herself to dredge up some control, then she pushed up from the floor, went to the bathroom and doused her face with cold water. She wiped it, blew her nose, then closed her eyes and tipped her head back, waiting for her emotions to settle. Her cell rang, and she pulled it out of her purse, but when she saw it was Austin’s number, she couldn’t bear to talk to him. She shoved her phone back into her purse.

  She spent a terrible, fitful night and in the morning after she’d unpacked, her eyes still swollen, she started working on Sarah’s funeral. Her body would be arriving at Reagan National Airport in two days. When Jenna ran into red tape at Arlington Cemetery, she got so angry she couldn’t see straight. Without hesitation, she called one of her friends on the Hill and unabashedly pulled strings.

  After that phone call, things flowed smoothly, and two weeks later, Jenna went out to Arlington, turning down Elise and Tom’s invitation to drive her. When she arrived, a lump in her throat at all the white grave markers, she almost lost it again. But today, she owed Sarah her courage and her commitment. She was going to get through this with dignity. Spring was erupting all over the DC area, the promise of the cherry blossoms adding a pink glow to the trees in the cemetery as they prepared to burst into vibrant color. Sarah’s final resting place would be beneath one of those magnificent trees.

  As she arrived at the chapel at Joint Base Myer-Henderson Hall, where she met with the funeral director, many guests arrived and filled the pews. Sarah’s flag-draped coffin was to her right and before she sat down, she touched it, saying a soft goodbye to her wonderful cousin. A man came up behind her, and she turned toward him. He wore Navy dress blues, his eyes swollen, red-rimmed and moist. Behind him, Commander Henry J. Washington and several of the Blue Angels saluted her in unison. She nodded to them.

  “Hello, Ms. Webb. I’m Lieutenant Ben Torres. I was—” his voice broke as he looked at the coffin “—in love with her. I know she didn’t tell you about me, but she mentioned you. She was so thrilled to have you in her life. I hope that brings you peace. Thank you for arranging all of this. She deserved it.”

  Jenna wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly as he broke into sobs. She was glad he came. She had notified everyone on Sarah’s contact list to let them know when the funeral would be.

  She kept herself together during the
beautiful service, performed by a chaplain, and Sarah’s casket was moved back into the hearse by eight sailors in dress whites.

  Music sounded as the Navy band in front of the hearse began to play. Elise slipped her arm through Jenna’s right and Tom took her left as they filed behind the white hearse. She longed to have Austin here to support her, but she hadn’t returned any of his calls—she’d been so raw with guilt and worried she would beg him to come to DC. She had to stand on her own two feet.

  They walked at a moderate pace to the gravesite, where chairs were available for comfort. As Sarah’s casket was unloaded, the chaplain, Commander Washington, and the rest of the officers saluted, and the pallbearers brought the casket to the burial site, lowering it to the ground. All saluted again. The chaplain said a few words while the pallbearers held the flag above the coffin. The cemetery official asked them to rise for the presentation of military honors and Commander Washington saluted, shouting loudly in the quiet of the grounds, “Present arms!”

  Once the sharp, staccato sound of the Twenty-One Gun Salute echoed away, the sound of taps filled the air. Elise squeezed her arm and Jenna looked up. Austin, a bugle to his lips, stood in his dress Marine uniform—black coat with red piping, his medals, white belt, and cover on his head. He looked so official.

  Her eyes met his, and she couldn’t hold on to her numbness. Pain seeped in, and before she knew it, tears streamed down her face. How could she have been so blind? She didn’t have to go through this grieving alone. Austin would never treat her like Robert. Austin was her rock, her support, and she needed him in her life. But she had so many things to do before she could even think about making that a reality.

  From a distance, the sound of jet engines drowned out other sounds for a moment as four planes screamed above them. Jenna’s throat and chest tightened as one of the blue-and-yellow Hornets broke off and rose above, disappearing into the clouds. “Goodbye, Sarah. Rest in peace,” Jenna whispered.