The Grayce Walters Romantic Suspense Series

by Jacki Delecki

  “I’m not up for James’ wisecracks right now.”

  “Honey, I love the way you blush. Makes me want to skip the ballet and take you home.”

  “Oh, no. I’m not missing a performance of the American Ballet Theater. They’re my favorite ballet company, after Seattle’s company, of course. This would be like skipping out in the third inning when Felix Hernandez’s pitching.”

  “Whatever you want, I’m just happy to have you to myself for an entire week. I did speak with Hunter Hines earlier today. Do you want to hear his update, or would you rather not think about it tonight?”

  “I want to hear,” Grayce said.

  “Brandon Billow’s lawyer is pleading insanity. Like being bad and disappointing your rich parents is mental illness. Brandon knew full well that he was doing something criminal, an “insanity defense” isn’t going to fly—but Hunter thought he might cut a deal with a prosecutor.”

  “He’s not going to prison?”

  “Oh, he’s going to prison, but for how long is the question. Gator—well he’s on his own. Three hots and a cot for a while. Though I don’t think he’s going to be charged, like Brandon will be, with kidnapping. I think he’ll get charged with attempted murder for tampering with your car—and maybe reckless endangerment and mayhem. Not sure mayhem is a crime.”

  “But Brandon planned to blow up Pier 69.”

  “Yes. He did. The FBI is trying to find evidence that he had connections with Islamic militants in Malaysia. If that bomb had gone off, it would have been worse than the Boston Marathon, because he had weapons grade plastic explosives.”

  They walked around the side of the building to the backstage door. Davis stopped and pulled Grayce into his arms. “Honey, I’m sorry I brought up the conversation. Let’s forget it for tonight.”

  “I agree. No more discussion. I’m enjoying being away from Seattle. Makes the unreal, grim experience seem further in the past than two weeks ago.”

  Grayce turned and spoke to the guard at the door. They were escorted into a bare, dimly lit, backstage area—a striking disparity from the audience’s experience in the Center with lush, red velvet curtains, elegant chandeliers, and a sweeping staircase.

  “Tell me again how James knows this dancer.”

  “James is friends with a lot of the boys at Pacific Northwest Ballet. Andrew was in the corps in Seattle, but left when he was offered a solo position with ABT. It’s a big career step for him. He’s an amazing dancer and an incredible actor. His talent is going to be used very well by ABT, which values both technical skill and emotional connection.”

  “Do I need to be jealous? And why do you call him a boy? How old is he?”

  “No, you don’t need to be jealous of Andrew. I’m not his style. And ballet company members are called boys and girls. It’s tradition.”

  Andrew, a young lithe man, was dressed in sweats with a hoodie and down booties. He came from a stairwell behind them. He had taken class to warm up before the performance. He moved with energetic grace.

  “Grayce, darling, it’s wonderful to see you.” He held her hands. “I’m sorry James isn’t with you. I’d love for him to see me perform at the Kennedy Center. Not bad for a boy from Everett.”

  “Davis and I are thrilled to be in the audience. And thank you for taking time to show us backstage.”

  Andrew inspected Davis from his black Italian loafers to his Armani tie. “James didn’t exaggerate.” He held his hand out. “Nice to meet you, Davis.”

  “Grayce, I can’t believe it. James told me how you stopped a bomb threat and found a missing war veteran who was on the streets. He said you’ve become Law and Order of Seattle.”

  Grayce felt both her face warming and an urge to yell at James for spreading stories and exaggerating her talents. “I’m sure whatever James has told you, you should take with a giant—enormous—grain of salt.”

  She glanced at Davis with wide eyes, in a look of Can you believe James?

  “James suggested I talk with you about a problem at PNB. A principal dancer believes someone is poisoning another dancer’s pets to get promoted in the company. James said you’d be happy to help.”

  Grayce and Davis both let out a groan. “James!”

  Men Under Fire

  Book Three in the

  Grayce Walters Romantic Suspense Series

  by

  Jacki Delecki

  Hollie Thomas, the feisty, tattooed office assistant to Grayce Walters, has come a long way from living on the streets. Along with finding a job she loves, she’s found friends and safety. When her new life unravels, she faces dangers that dwarf her troubled past. Fighting to survive, she discovers that sometimes what you need the most might be found in the one person you failed to see coming.

  Returning home from the war and struggling to find his way, Sergeant Nick Welby, and his bomb-sniffing golden lab, use their skill set in the last place he’d ever imagined—Seattle’s Waterfront. To protect the one woman who matters, Nick and his trusty canine partner will risk everything to rescue her and Seattle from disaster.

  Embroiled in Grayce Walters’ most perilous case—a terrorist plot with the threat of deadly explosives—can Nick and Hollie work together to save themselves and each other before it’s too late?

  Chapter One

  Sergeant Nick Welby forced himself to look up at the plane roaring above him and ignore his primitive instinct to break into a run. His heart punched against his chest in painful thuds. A Boeing 737—not enemy fire. Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood—not Afghanistan.

  He took a calming breath and then another. The hipster neighborhood, filled with buzzing cars and rushing crowds, ratcheted his already revved-up nervous system, making every sound and movement chafe against his jangled nerves like an open wound.

  Talley, Nick’s military partner, a bomb-sniffing canine, strained against her lead.

  The golden lab, like him, was tense and hyper-alert, waiting for disaster to strike. Both he and his dog were on sick leave. A month had helped to heal their physical injuries, but neither had made progress in calming their stress reactions. They both saw and felt danger everywhere, every day.

  He stared up at the refurbished warehouse situated on the waterway to Puget Sound. Adrenaline surged through his body at the idea of walking into the unknown building. He was sweating heavily, as if he were still in the heat of the Registan desert instead of the August summer day in the Northwest.

  A white-and-black sign hung on the warehouse: Grayce Walters, DVM, Animal Acupuncturist. He bent and petted the attentive dog. Talley’s soft chocolate eyes echoed the feelings stuck in his throat. “I don’t like it any better than you do, but this doctor will help you.”

  Nick didn’t have a lot of hope for his own recovery, but he couldn’t let his partner suffer. Doc Samson, the Welby family’s veterinarian, had sworn by the amazing skill of this doctor. He paused and blew the air out of his constricted lungs and then pulled the door open. He’d do anything to help his partner heal from the IED explosion that had almost taken both their lives, even walk into this dangerous unknown.

  * * *

  Nick’s mind and body were at ease after the hour with Dr. Walters. Doc Samson was right-on—the tiny woman had special gifts. Having been raised on a horse farm, Nick had immediately recognized the veterinarian’s intuitive connection in relating to and comforting animals.

  Simply being in Dr. Walters’ presence was restorative, as evidenced by Talley sleeping soundly on the floor. As Talley’s handler, he was connected to the dog at a level most people couldn’t understand. When his partner relaxed, he felt the same.

  Dr. Walters looked up from her note taking. “I’d like to treat Talley once a week for the next three months. You live in Auburn. Will it be a problem to drive into Seattle?”

  “Not a problem, ma’am. I’d do anything for this dog.”

  She leaned across her desk. “Do you swim, sergeant?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He didn’t
get what swimming had to do with acupuncture.

  “I’d like you and Talley to start swimming in a lake or deep river. It’s important you do it together.”

  “Lake Young is close by our family farm. Talley and I can swim there.”

  “Water will soothe Talley’s ratcheted up nervous system.”

  Why did he feel as if the doctor wasn’t talking just about Talley?

  “Don’t do any training around the swimming. Talley needs a real break from her work. Her senses, especially her focus and her nose are working overtime. She’ll have a break in the water.”

  He nodded. “It will be great to swim after our morning runs.”

  “Sounds like we’ve got a plan. Let’s see how the swimming works.” Dr. Walters stood from her desk and walked toward the door. “I can hear that my assistant is back. She’ll make your appointment for next week.”

  Talley woke up with the doctor’s movements. With her front paws planted forward, the usually hyper dog stretched her spine and then slowly hoisted herself to follow Dr. Walters. He couldn’t explain exactly what had happened, but, like Talley, he felt a deep sense of relaxation. For the first time since he had arrived stateside, he could breathe calmly and catch glimpses of the contented man before the war. He and a tranquil Talley followed the doctor to the outer office.

  Dr. Walters stopped suddenly in the doorway. A young, curvaceous woman was balanced on the stool, reaching into cupboards, as she sang the painful lyrics from Nirvana’s song “Sliver.”

  When she stretched her entire body forward, her short black skirt inched higher, giving him an incredible view of her sweet, rounded backside. He swore under his breath at the tempting sight. She wore fishnet tights and thigh-high boots that were right out of every red-blooded male’s fantasy.

  His whole body tightened, not in danger but in hunger. Lust and need hummed through him, an invigorating feeling that he hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

  He and Dr. Walters stood frozen. Dr. Walters didn’t want to startle her assistant. Nick didn’t budge as he reveled in the almighty view.

  As if sensing his stare, the young woman turned and jumped off the stool in one graceful movement despite her high-heeled boots. She turned and faced them with a big smile. She had no idea what fantastic torture he suffered. Her tight World of Warfare T-shirt hugged her amazingly stacked body. Heat and anticipation drummed through his body.

  Her dark, slanted eyes and her full lips matched her perfect body. He couldn’t believe there could be such a beautiful woman. Dumbstruck by her appeal, he stood and stared.

  She stared back as if trapped in their electric connection.

  “Hollie, can you make an appointment for Talley and Sgt. Welby?”

  Dr. Walters’ voice startled him to attention. He had been overcome by his primeval response to the young woman despite Dr. Walters’ presence.

  Her name was Hollie—a prickly flower, like her piercing above her eyebrow; her red lips vibrant and lush like the berries in the long winter months.

  Hollie turned toward Dr. Walters. “How long will you want to see them?”

  “I’d like to see Talley once a week for the next twelve weeks.” Dr. Walters smiled at him before walking back into her office. “You’re in good hands now. I’ll see you and Talley next week.”

  Hollie then bent and petted Talley’s head. The golden lab, usually fully on guard, didn’t flinch or react to Hollie’s touch. In fact, Talley leaned into her hand. It appeared both he and Talley felt the same about Hollie. Nick watched her black-painted nails rub along Talley’s head.

  “She’s a beauty.” Hollie’s voice was low and caring.

  Nick couldn’t believe he was about to say aloud: you’re the beauty. His entire world was spinning sideways—first the acupuncture by Dr. Walters and now this incredible woman.

  “What day next week works for you, Sgt. Welby?” Her voice was husky and sexy as hell. He was a goner. How could this woman get any better?

  He stepped toward her. His need to get closer was overpowering. “Call me Nick.”

  Hollie had a flush of pink on her cheeks as if she could read his thoughts, his needs. Her clothes and stance were bold, but there was something vulnerable in her eyes. She fluttered her thick eyelashes, and the moment was gone. “Nick, Dr. Walters has openings next Tuesday afternoon.”

  He angled his body into a protective but possessive posture—unbelievable for him since he never got near to anyone. You never knew who had a bomb strapped under their clothes. With this woman, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to touch her, to run his hands through her long, dark hair. “Talley and I can come back whenever. We’re flexible.” Suddenly the words rang true. He might be able to break away from his lonely, rigid schedule to make room for…

  He tried to not stare at her chest but at the World of Warfare logo with the mystical fairy creature. He pointed to the character on her T-shirt. “Galachel?” He liked that she hadn’t chosen one of the avenging, angry, war-hungry goddesses.

  Hollie’s perfect skin reddened. She whispered in shock, “You know Galachel?

  He looked at her chest again. Oh man, he shouldn’t have done that. “Are you a girl gamer?”

  Her striking eyes flashed. “Yeah. What about you?”

  “I played a lot when I was deployed. Not much else to do on the off hours.”

  “Yeah, I played more when I was…” She stopped herself and looked down. “It must have been hard…you know being away…” Her voice got quiet, filled with sympathy.

  Did she know about the IED explosion? He didn’t want her to think of him as wounded. He didn’t like thinking of himself as wounded. “Talley and I should be heading out. But we’ll see you next Tuesday.”

  And like a good soldier, he knew it was time to retreat.

  Chapter Two

  Hollie refolded the T-shirts on her friend’s vendor table at Pike Street Market. A group of Scandinavian tourists from the Alaskan cruise ship had totally demolished the carefully organized display. Why a group of white-haired women with canes and walkers wanted to examine and touch the World of Warfare T-shirts, she hadn’t a clue.

  Their interest in the next stall, showcasing Lonnie’s potholders made from retro fabric, was understandable, but the elderly women’s interest in mythical creatures from a video war game was incomprehensible. Like their marauding Viking ancestors, they had gone down the entire row of day stalls in Pike Place Market, invading and pillaging.

  She straightened the stacks of Galachel, the T-shirt she had been wearing when she’d met Sgt. Welby. She refused to think of him as Nick since that would be crossing a boundary of their client relationship. She had told herself repeatedly he was a client and nothing else when she remembered his blue eyes and the crinkles around the bright orbs from too much sun. She had already spent too much time analyzing her unusual reaction to the hunky soldier.

  She smoothed the pile of her favorite Ellie design: Play like a Girl in bold red letters. Splayed across the T-shirt was an avenging war goddess with a spear in hand.

  Ellie had modeled the goddess’s image after Hollie’s dark, slanted eyes, black, curling hair, and her tough personality.

  Hollie smiled at a male Japanese tourist. The young dude held up a T-shirt with a red dragon flying across a netherworld of purple skies.

  “Blood Fire from World of Warfare,” Hollie said.

  He smiled and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet.

  Hollie nodded.

  Obviously not fluent in English but fluent in video games, the kid bought the T-shirt.

  Hollie searched the crowd for Ellie bringing their lunch. She hadn’t eaten much of a breakfast and was desperate for a square slice of DeLaurenti’s pizza.

  She spotted Ellie making her way through the narrow aisle filled with humanity. Ellie held the cardboard box close to her chest. She skillfully weaved in and out of the sea of tourists, a plastic bag filled with their Cokes hanging from her arm. Hollie’s mouth
salivated at the sight of the pizza box and the anticipation of biting into the thick, chewy crust and the melted cheese.

  Opening the box that Ellie had handed her, Hollie took a deep whiff of the garlic tomato sauce and breathed a sigh of blissful nirvana.

  “Long line?”

  “Yeah, out the door and onto First Avenue.”

  Hollie took a bite of the pizza. Her taste buds exploded with the heavy garlic. It was even better than she’d expected.

  Ellie pulled the two stools together behind the stall. Hollie perched on the edge of the stool and placed the familiar box on her lap. Ellie took a big bite. “How did you do while I was gone?”

  Hollie unscrewed the top of the Coke bottle and took a big chug. “Better now. I was starved.”

  “Thanks for coming down and giving me a break. I really appreciate it.”

  “I don’t know how you can stay so nice and polite. I’d start screaming and raving if I had to deal with all the cruise ship passengers who have no intention to buy but have to touch everything.”

  Ellie snorted. “No, you wouldn’t. You just like saying all those badass things.”

  Hollie snorted. “I am a badass. Have you forgotten how I took that motherfuck-hole Zane down?”

  “It was the first time I saw you in action—the way you roshamboed him was fricking awesome. You were the only one willing to stand up to him.”

  Hollie didn’t want to remember Ellie’s abusive boyfriend who’d pimped her out to keep his heroin habit going. “It was all about pure rage. I sure had a lot of anger back then.”

  “After you kicked him in the groin and then sucker-punched him, you looked just like Badb, the Irish war goddess. You know, the goddess with black hair and black eyes who took the form of a crow.”

  Hollie spoke around the pizza in her mouth. “I’m not sure the image of a crow is a compliment.”

  “My life changed when I met you.” Ellie’s voice trembled. “And look at me now.”