by Leslie North
Ted chuckled. “True. And he was. Just off his nut, that’s all. And armed. Never give a crazy guy a gun.”
“Words to live by.” Felicity pulled out her own sunglasses and shoved them on her face. Truth was, she’d kind of liked Jace Stevens too. More than she wanted to admit. He’d seemed attentive and honest and genuine. Didn’t help that he was gorgeous, with his shaggy surfer-esque, sun-streaked honey hair and those twinkling brown eyes that hinted at all sorts of naughty mischief. He was definitely better looking in person than in his pictures. She sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe we’re approaching this whole thing wrong. Maybe we shouldn’t have gone there.”
“Jeez, lighten up. We asked the guy a couple of questions. It’s no big deal.” Ted switched lanes to pass a slower moving car ahead, heading for the small coastal town of Ortega, California. “But I admit I don’t get this whole connection you see between the deaths and Brothers In Arms. Yeah, they were all SEALs, but otherwise it seems like a dead end.”
“I wanted to talk to him, see if he’d confirm what we already knew or give us something more to go on. Plus, Jace Stevens is the guy who flunked Kevin Quinn out of the SEAL program. That’s got to cause some resentment on Quinn’s part.”
“Maybe.” Ted shrugged, slowing down to take a sharp curve in the road. “Why not let Stevens talk to the guy then? Get him riled up. Maybe Quinn will slip and say something.”
“Getting Quinn riled up is exactly what I don’t want to happen yet. If Stevens goes in there, guns blazing, and intimidates Quinn, he’ll take off and we might never find him again.” Felicity threw up her hands in exasperation. “That’s why the more I think about it, the more I think going to the compound was a huge mistake.”
“Stop being so hard on yourself, okay? You’re going to bust an artery or something.” Ted shook his head and slowed again as they entered the outskirts of Ortega. “There’s nothing we can do about it now, so sit back and see what happens okay, partner?”
Felicity rolled her eyes and slumped in her seat, staring out at the passing scenery. Ortega was a scenic delight, all mission-style architecture and white-washed ease. In the distance, the Pacific Ocean sparkled and danced and seagulls swooped and called from the blue skies above.
It seemed so idyllic, it made her teeth ache. She exhaled and leaned her forehead against the window as they headed for their budget hotel. Felicity hadn’t always been such a pessimistic hardass. Back when she was a kid, she’d been a real practical joker, always spoofing people and pulling pranks. Then one day, when she was ten, she’d locked her baby brother in the neighbor’s shed as payback for a stunt he’d pulled and pretty much ruined her brother’s life. To this day, he’d never really forgiven her.
Fun and games led to pain and tragedy. Better to be serious and stoic and play it safe.
No matter how suffocating safety could be.
They were staying near the heart of the small town and Ted signaled as they approached the lot beside the building. Felicity straightened and rolled her stiff shoulders. “You hear anything back yet on your teaching application for Quantico?”
“Nope.” Ted found a spot near the side entrance. “Probably won’t until this case is over either. Another reason for us to sit tight and see what happens. All I want is to get out of this one alive, so I can spend the rest of my days until retirement sitting on the sidelines. Please, don’t blow this for me, partner.”
“Fine.” Felicity sighed as she got out of the SUV. The fly in the ointment in this though was the fact they may have to take some risks to bring whoever was killing these Navy SEALs to justice. The fact some sicko would murder America’s heroes was bad enough. Worse, they tried to shame their deaths with the stigma of suicide.
It made her blood boil. She joined Ted on the sidewalk. Still, Ted was a good friend and a great partner. She didn’t want to risk his future in pursuit of her case, but not doing anything rankled.
As they walked inside and headed up to their third-floor rooms, Jace’s face flashed into Felicity’s mind again. Ted liked the guy. Truth was, she did too. She hoped he wouldn’t do something stupid like try to go after Kevin Quinn on his own. Quinn had friends in very high places and knew lots of powerful people. If the public’s perception of Brothers In Arms was on shaky ground now, she shuddered to think what would happen to the business if some of Quinn’s political friends got ahold of it.
Too bad her gut told her Jace Stevens was about to do exactly what she’d warned him not to do. If he did, Felicity planned to be there to stop him.
3
“Tell me you played nice with the FBI,” Mark said over the phone.
Jace scrubbed his hand over his face and leaned back in his chair. He contemplated lying, then decided against it. Mark would only find out anyway because he always did, then Jace would catch shit for a different reason. He shook his head and stared out the window. He loved his old team buddies, but there were times…. “It was fine. Really. They wanted to ask me a couple of questions about Trevor.”
“Shit.” Mark sighed loud over the phone line. “I’m still sorry about that, man. I know you and Fellis were close.”
“Yeah.” Jace swallowed hard against the hard knot of sorrow that never seemed to fully dissolve since his friend’s death. All the suicides had been bad, but this one hit far too close to home. Trevor Fellis had grown up in a similar neighborhood and under similar circumstances to Jace—single mom, little supervision or money, rough streets. Only difference was, where Jace had been lucky enough to escape the gang life, Trevor hadn’t. He’d been forced to join to survive and had only gotten out after he’d gotten busted for a string of petty thefts. At least a forward-thinking judge had offered Trevor a choice—a year in jail or a stint in the Navy. Trevor had chosen the military and his fate had changed forever. Two years in and he’d applied for the SEAL training program. Jace had kicked the guy’s ass into shape and Trevor had become one of the most loyal and most talented soldiers on their team. “He’s been dead fourteen days and I still can’t stop myself from expecting him to call or stop by or something.”
“Me too.” Mark said, his tone solemn. “So, did the agents say anything else?”
“The one agent had a theory about who might be doing the killings.” He left out the part about his unwanted attraction to Special Agent Felicity Belasko. It didn’t mean anything. He hadn’t dated anyone for months and couldn’t remember the last time he got laid. That had to be it. “You remember a recruit named Kevin Quinn? Came through about a year and a half before our discharge. Mousy-looking guy, always complaining. Acted all paranoid, like the world was out to get him.”
“Nah,” Mark laughed. “But based on your description, I’m guessing you weeded him out pretty fast.”
“Yep. Flunked him good. You know I can’t stand whiners.” Jace forced a smile, still unable to shake the persistent feeling that maybe somehow he’d caused all of this. Perhaps if he’d been nicer to the guy or let him stay in the program a little longer, Trevor might still be alive. That thought cut him to the core. “Anyway, I just finished this afternoon’s classes, so I thought I’d take a little ride out to the address I found on the Internet for the guy. See what he’s up to these days.”
“I don’t know, man. We’ve got enough problems at Brothers In Arms as it is these days. We don’t need you crossing purposes with the FBI too.” As if on cue, the pipes in the attic moaned loud, and Jace cringed. “I heard that,” Mark said. “You call the plumbers yet?”
“No, not yet. Too busy. And give me some credit, dude.” Jace scowled. “Trust me, if I don’t want Kevin Quinn to see me coming, he won’t even know I’m there.”
Mark gave a resigned exhale. They’d been friends long enough for the guy to know that once Jace had made up his mind, there wasn’t much anyone could do to change it. “Just be careful, okay? And call the goddamned plumbers.”
“Will do.” Jace grinned. “And you hurry up and get that hand back in shape. I’m getting lonely aro
und here.”
“Any word from Vann on when he’s coming back?”
“Nope. He’s still with Mercy in New Mexico for some restaurant meeting. Won’t be back until the end of the week at least.”
“You okay holding down the fort by yourself?” Mark asked. “Cause if you’re not, I’ll be there. Just say the word.”
“I’m fine. Besides, I don’t want Geneva coming down here and kicking my ass because I made you go against your doctor’s orders, dude.” He chuckled. “Enjoy your rare downtime and get back in here once the doctor and PT release you, right?” Jace checked his watch then stood. “I need to go. Talk to you soon.”
“See ya. And watch yourself out there.” Mark ended the call.
After locking up the office and checking all the compound buildings to make sure they were secure, Jace headed for his beater pickup truck with the logo from the local garage where he worked part-time. Bright yellow letters proclaiming Burrell’s over the picture of a tow truck contrasted with the vehicle’s dark green paint and rust. The thing looked like shit, but thanks to Jace’s skills with anything mechanical, it drove like a frigging Porsche. He started the engine and headed toward Ortega.
This late in the year, the temps were cooler than they had been in the summer, though the weather was nice all year around. It was California, after all. He rolled his window down to let in some fresh sea air and propped his elbow on the truck door, cranking his favorite hip hop jams higher. It wasn’t until he’d reached the courthouse, smack in the middle of the small town, that he noticed a now-familiar black SUV two cars back, tailing him.
Well, shit.
Mark had warned him not to get into bed with the FBI and he wouldn’t. That didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun either. Especially with Belasko. Felicity. The name suited her, he thought, as the light turned green and he continued through Ortega, heading toward an older mobile home park on the other side of town. That woman was locked up so tight, it would be one hell of a challenge to get her to relax. He glanced in the rearview mirror, noticed the SUV still following behind him. Looked like she was driving this time, and alone.
Jace smiled. Good. He liked Ted, but he liked Felicity more.
She was pretty, beautiful even, yet she seemed to dress and groom herself to downplay that—no makeup, plain hair slicked back tight, androgynous, black, standard FBI uniform. Maybe she did it to compete in what was still the male-driven world of the intelligence community. Which made no sense to him. He’d always thought there should be more women operatives. They looked at things from a different perspective and used their intuition much more than their male counterparts, giving them better insight and instincts. Hell, just look at them now. While her male partner was off elsewhere, Felicity was hot on Jace’s tail. She’d known he wouldn’t listen and keep his nose out of their case.
Smart woman. Just one more thing he found attractive about her.
He signaled and turned into the Shady Pines Mobile Home Park and then weaved through the maze of ramshackle trailers and junk-filled yards toward the back, searching for lot one-seventy-four before stopping and parking a safe distance away to avoid any suspicion.
Kevin Quinn’s trailer was a double-wide and better kept than most. There was no junk in his yard, just freshly mown grass and a non-descript compact car parked off to one side. The mobile home itself was painted white with blue trim and looked like it had gotten a fresh coat or two recently. No lights were on, though the presence of the car suggested someone was inside. Maybe Quinn worked third-shift at a factory or something. He regretted that he’d not asked Felicity much about her suspect earlier.
Jace got out and walked to the front of his truck, using the binoculars he’d slung around his neck to peer at Quinn’s mobile home closer. There was a small plastic utility shed out behind the trailer. First priority—get in there and see what Quinn was hiding.
The quiet thump of a car door closing sounded behind him was followed by the crunch of footsteps on gravel. He braced for war. Next thing he knew, Felicity Belasko stood beside him, so close her heat penetrated through his camo green T-shirt. She smelled like flowers and sunshine and he had the sudden urge to kiss that dark frown off her face, just to see her reaction.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” she hissed. “Are you trying to get arrested?”
He gave her a side glance before raising his binoculars again. “Calm down, darlin’. No need to get the cops involved.”
“I wasn’t talking about the cops.” Her fists were clenched so tight her knuckles were white. “I was talking about me. Federal agent, remember?”
“How could I forget? You keep reminding me.”
“Enough with the bullshit, cowboy.” She pulled out her cell phone and held it up. “I’m warning you, Mr. Stevens. Back off my case or I will throw your ass in jail for interfering with a federal investigation.”
“Jace.” He dropped the binoculars against his chest and faced her at last. Her cheeks were flushed and her dark green eyes glittered with irritation, and he didn’t think he’d ever seen a prettier sight in his life. “I told you to call me Jace. All my friends do.”
“I’m not your friend.”
“You could be.” He grinned, knowing he was getting under her skin but having far too much fun to stop. “I’d like that.”
“I bet you would.” She pushed past him to scan the area around Kevin Quinn’s trailer then grabbed his arm and yanked him hard. “Get down!”
“Ow! What the—” Jace frowned. “I like the rough stuff too sometimes, but we hardly know each other, dar—”
Felicity pulled out her gun. “I swear to God if you call me darling again right now, I will end you. Now shut up. Quinn’s coming out.”
From around the front corner of his truck, Jace spotted the man in question. He didn’t look much different than he had years ago in SEAL training. Medium height, medium build, brown hair. The glasses were new, as was the muscle. Kevin Quinn must’ve started working out. Too bad he hadn’t put in that much effort to get into the SEALs. He might not have gotten kicked out so fast.
Jace’s gut clenched tight. If what Felicity had told him this morning was true, then Trevor’s killer was standing not more than thirty feet away. His fingers itched to grab the gun holstered at her waist and put a bullet in the guy’s head dropping him where he stood before he even realized what had hit him.
Except that would be too good for the son-of-a-bitch. No. If Kevin Quinn really had killed Trevor and all those other SEALs and was behind Mark and Vann’s accidents, then he deserved to suffer long and hard. Jace made it his personal mission to make sure that happened.
“Shit.” Felicity scowled as Quinn stopped near his car and peered over in their direction. “If he sees us or thinks we’re on to him, this is all over.”
They held their breath as Kevin looked around the area for a moment, then unlocked his car and climbed behind the wheel. Jace didn’t exhale until the guy had pulled out of his driveway and rumbled past them toward the trailer park exit.
“God, that was close. Too close.” Felicity slumped back against the side of Jace’s truck and rubbed her eyes “Seriously, do you see why I can’t have you poking your nose in around here? Quinn is paranoid enough as it is. He gets wind we’re tailing him and he’s gone.”
Jace straightened and stalked over toward Quinn’s trailer.
“Where the hell are you going now?” Felicity demanded, her tone exasperated as she jogged behind him. “Which part of leave now did you not understand, cowboy?”
And then, because he couldn’t help it, because he liked the way her eyes flashed when she was irritated, he said, “Trust me, darlin’. You’ll want my help on this case.”
4
Trust him? Yeah, right. She didn’t trust this guy any farther than she could see him.
Felicity looked around to make sure they didn’t have an audience as she ran after Jace toward Kevin Quinn’s property. He stopped abruptly
before a shed and she had to dig in her heels to keep from running smack into him. She put out her hand to brace herself against his broad, muscled back and tingles of awareness zinged up her arm from the point of contact.
She quickly withdrew her hand and held it close to her chest, as if it was burnt. His skin, his heat, his head snapping toward hers, as he turned those warm brown eyes on her, showing off that devilish twinkle again— all of it was just too…much.
And then he’d had to go and call her darling too. An unwanted flutter went through her at the way he said it, with a slow, sexy drawl, his deep voice slightly husky and wanton, making her imagine him calling her that in a different situation. Like naked, in her bed, their bodies entwined in the twisted sheets, him stroking her, taking her, driving them both to the brink of ecstasy…
Jesus, Belasko. Get a fucking grip, girl.
This man was a Navy SEAL, a source of information for her case, nothing more. Time to remember that and pull her head out of her stupid fantasies. Jace Stevens wasn’t boyfriend material, not for a woman like her. She was all about her career, all about catching her killer.
“Following me again, eh?” he said, glancing back at her over his shoulder as he crouched before the shed to study the heavy padlock securing the door. “Isn’t stalking against the law?”
“I am the law,” she said, her tone harsher than she’d intended, but dammit. He made her hackles rise. “And I’m not stalking you. This is my case. I’m the only one of us who’s actually supposed to be here, remember?”
“Right.” He reached into the back pocket of his tight, faded jeans and removed a small black leather pouch. From it, he took two tools and proceeded to pick the lock. Within seconds the padlock clicked open and the heavy chain links rattled free. Jace straightened, towering a good foot above her own five-two frame, and tucked his tools away once more before winking. “Told you I’m handy to have around.”