“May I remind the senator,” Boland said just as sharply, “that you are not a prosecuting lawyer in front of a jury flaunting your courtroom tactics. This is a hearing, not a trial. When you can ask a civil question without inflammatory indictment at Corporal Fremont’s or my expense, then I’ll answer it.”
Who the hell is he? Roman almost shouted. He yanked his head to the left, glaring at Fredericks. He wanted him to put the bastard in his rightful place. The room came alive with titters. Fredericks sat pretending nothing had happened. Roman turned his attention back to the officer. He’d have his ass for this. A couple of well-placed phone calls to the Pentagon would effectively squelch Boland’s career.
Roman decided to home in on Fremont. She wasn’t capable of thinking on her feet like the Marine captain. And for the next two hours, Roman relentlessly pursued her.
It was nearing the noon adjournment when William Wendell entered through the doors of the hearing, pale and shaken. In his hand, he clutched a piece of paper. For a moment, he stood motionless, as if trying to decide whether to talk directly with the chairman of the hearing or move to his vacant seat at Fremont’s table. Wiping his brow, the normally unflappable attorney steered himself in the direction of the table and sat down.
Wendell took Captain Boland’s mike. “Senator Fredericks, I’m sorry to interrupt this hearing, but something tragic has just occurred that affects this hearing.” Wendell glanced apologetically at Cathy and then continued in a strained voice. He held up a piece of paper in his right hand. “Dr. Leonard Tucker called a page and told him to ask me to come to his hotel room immediately.” Wendell closed his eyes and then opened them, his words coming out hoarse and strangled. “When I entered his hotel room, the door was partially opened. I went inside and found Dr. Tucker lying on the floor with a bullet through his head, victim of an apparent suicide. The detectives and the medical examiner are there, now. They allowed me to leave to come here and tell you what has occurred.”
Cathy gasped, nearly coming out of her chair if not for Boland’s restraining hand. Her eyes widened.
“No!” she cried, her voice cracking. “No!”
The entire room shifted from disbelief into a slowly moving crescendo of voices and movement of TV cameras as they angled to get a better shot of the distraught attorney.
Wendell held the paper higher. “He left a suicide note and some medical reports, Mr. Chairman. Those reports show definite proof that WLF Private Simmons may have been shot to death and not died in a grenade accident we previously indicated during boot camp. I request a recess in light of this new evidence left by the doctor.”
Stunned, Fredericks nodded and banged the gavel once. “This hearing is recessed for the remainder of the day.”
Louise kept herself on a short rein. Tucker! The bastard! Her mind raced. How had he gotten hold of an unaltered death certificate on Simmons? Hadn’t he changed all copies to reflect the official cause of death? Her blue eyes turned black. She broke out into a heavy sweat, realizing with pulverizing finality that Tucker must have saved some evidence from the Simmons case that could link her indirectly to the murder. That worm of a man had screwed her. Oh, no…And then, Louise began to try to think of ways to deflect the damaging testimony. She wouldn’t be able to fully vindicate herself. No…it was Tucker’s evidence against her word, that was all. With Kay and Hayes dead, no one knew Simmons had been murdered. It was all circumstantial. Feverishly, Louise tried to find a way out of Tucker’s evidence as she watched Wendell hand the chairman the inflammatory paper. Her fists knotted.
Senator Al Fredericks had difficulty containing his shock as Wendell came forward to produce Tucker’s original notes from the medical report, which indicated he had detected a possible hole in Simmons’s body. Glee raced through him as he hungrily read the brief but indicting scrawl that Tucker had left behind as his legacy. Finally, he had something on Major Lane. And with Hayes talking to Fremont about the Simmons murder, the entire case against Lane was wrapped up. And Roman was looking stunned, a rarity for the salty bastard. Roman was going down with a sinking ship. But the public wouldn’t accept Lane’s murder of a recruit. And it was looking more and more like murder every moment. With this evidence, Fredericks knew they could exhume the body of Simmons and prove Tucker’s observations one way or another.
Tears choked off Cathy’s breathing and her vision blurred as a swelling roar surrounded them. The only touch of reality was Jim’s hand around her waist as he pulled her to her feet. Tiredness, almost a year’s worth, swept over her and she leaned wearily against Jim for support. Buck Arnley was there, his hand on her left elbow, to help form a vanguard against the mob of reporters and television cameras.
CATHY HUNCHED over, the hot July sun beating down through the spruce and evergreens that sat on the edge of the creek. The music of water rushing over the rocks blended with the raucous cry of a pair of blue jays sitting nearby scolding them. A smile tugged at her lips as she helped Jim clean the four freshly caught trout.
The sun dappled through the boughs, casting blue highlights over his black, military-short hair. He’s gained back much of his muscle mass and weight, she thought. So have I. And then the soft sound of laughter came from her slender throat as she got up to rinse out the belly of the rainbow trout.
“What’s so funny?” Jim asked, lifting his head. He rested a moment on one knee, watching Cathy dip the freshly cleaned fish into the icy coldness of the Rocky Mountain stream. She had allowed her hair to grow long, the ginger strands loose and free around her shoulders. The smile on her face warmed him and he felt his body hardening with want of her once again.
Cathy twisted around, her green eyes shining with gold flecks. “I’m just happy, that’s all.”
Boland finished cleaning his two fish and joined her at the stream, washing the catch thoroughly. They would make a good lunch, pan-fried in butter. “Good,” he murmured, sharing her smile. The fuchsia-colored blouse and blue jeans emphasized her femininity. There was a flush of pleasure staining her cheeks and a sparkle dancing in her emerald-colored eyes. This was the real Cathy Fremont, the woman he had sensed existed but which had never had an opportunity to blossom forth. “I thought you were laughing because you caught three out of four of these trout,” he teased, setting them back into the creel.
Cathy shook her head, taking his hands when he offered them to her, and she got to her feet. Jim brought her into his arms and she was content to lean against him, a willow compared to his oak-hard body.
“I can’t believe it. Major Lane was indicted as an accomplice to Simmons’s murder.” She sighed and closed her eyes and held Jim tightly to her. “Leonard didn’t die in vain. His notes convicted her. That and the autopsy on Debby Simmons’s body. They found the bullet hole.”
“I thought you were going to leave all that Hill intrigue behind us?” urged Jim, kissing her hair. “You’re a civilian now and no more hearings—”
“No more media stalking us twenty-five hours a day,” she added, smiling.
Jim smiled with her. “Did you read the morning paper before we came up to the cabin?”
Cathy pouted playfully. “The one lying on the restaurant counter? I thought we agreed to forget TV, radios and papers for the next thirty days?”
“I couldn’t help it,” Jim admitted, trying to look properly apologetic and barely succeeding. “When I went up to pay our check, it was sitting there, just begging me to look down and read the headlines.”
With an exasperated sigh, Cathy set her mouth. “Okay, what was the headline that you’re dying to tell me about, Boland?”
“Mackey is now retired. And he didn’t get his general’s star. He retires as a colonel, so he got his hand slapped but good. And his career meant more to him than anything.”
“He got off light, compared to Dr. Tucker and Major Lane,” Cathy murmured. “Senator Fredericks escaped unscathed and is now considered a hero of the whole thing. It won’t hurt his career.”
“No star for Mackey, and Fredericks continues to gather momentum for his run for the presidency.” He studied her for a moment and then asked, “Congress let the WLF experiment go to ground. Nothing changes. Women still aren’t allowed into ground combat. They’ll look at it again in the future.”
“I was never against women being in combat. That wasn’t the issue,” Cathy said. “And there are women who can do it, Jim, just as well as any man can. And I’m sure this experiment will be put in some Pentagon vault, never to see the light of day again.”
He grimaced. “A woman can die just as easily as a man. War is gender neutral as we well know. I think someday, maybe twenty or thirty years from now, the military is going to open up the combat slots to women. We’ll be around to see it happen.”
Cathy whispered, “Lane saw the disbandment of the WLF, so that has to hurt her. In another way, she was a catalyst for the whole question about women in combat.”
“It was just the way she went about it that was wrong,” Boland growled.
“There are people celebrating this turn of events and there are others who aren’t.”
“With the lack of men volunteering for the military, they’ve had to rely more and more on women volunteers, anyway. Maybe this was just something whose time had come.”
“We’re a part of that history, Jim.” Cathy gave him a wicked look filled with teasing. “I wouldn’t have met you otherwise, so something good came out of all this.”
“To hell with all of them. You’re right. Let’s concentrate on our vacation,” he muttered. “You’re the only thing in that sordid mess that was my light at the end of the tunnel.”
Cathy grinned mischievously, seeking and finding his strong, male mouth. “And you got an early discharge for fraternizing with an enlisted person—me.” Jim had been court-marshaled and given a general discharge by the Marine Corps. Fraternization between an officer and enlisted person was never allowed. Jim seemed glad to leave the service. Instead, he’d started his own engineering consulting firm in Gunnison, as he’d planned all along.
Jim nibbled at Cathy’s lower lip, running his tongue across the surface of it, tasting her sweetness. “I’ll never regret that decision. I’ll have your beautiful body to come home to every night…”
“Is that all I am to you? A body?”
“A beautiful body,” Jim corrected, drinking hungrily of her willing mouth. After kissing her, he drew her inches away from him, studying her in the silence.
Cathy drowned in his gray eyes alight with amusement laced with tenderness.
“You have a beautiful heart that never stops giving, a laughter that’s music to me, a sultry look that drives me crazy as I make love with you, an awesome intelligence that is forever surprising me with your insights into people and situations…shall I go on?”
With a delicious moan, Cathy slid her arms around his neck. “Forever,” she whispered, placing a series of small kisses down his neck.
He was content to keep Cathy in his arms. Everywhere he looked, there were craggy mountains encircling the valley. Jim tunneled his fingers through Cathy’s hair, thinking how much he loved her. She had shown the hearing nothing but her continued courage under the questioning after Tucker’s suicide. It was more like a cross-examination at times, Jim admitted bitterly, as she gave the details of Hayes’s version of the Simmons story. The tragedy and loss of Tucker had torn Cathy apart. The suicide letter he had haphazardly typed out admitted his guilt and association with Lane. At the end of the letter, he had asked Cathy’s forgiveness; he could no longer carry the weight of guilt of what he had done to her and the destruction of his medical career.
In her own way, Cathy had forgiven Tucker, understanding the man’s dreams—it was simply how he executed those dreams that had been his painful downfall. Jim studied her serene features, from the thick, dark lashes resting against her freckled cheeks to her crooked nose and finely flared nostrils to the vulnerable smile shadowing her mouth.
“We’ve come through a lot together,” he told her quietly.
“And we’ve survived.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
Cathy lifted her lashes. “Why shouldn’t I be?”
Jim kissed the tip of her nose. “Because Valkyries are immortal, that’s why.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Well, this Valkyrie is tired of her battle garb. But I wish the women who want to become Valkryies the best. They belong in every part of every service and no career door should be shut in their face. If they want to go into combat, and they possess the physical ability, it should be their choice.”
“I agree. Women can do it all, no holds barred.” Boland smiled up into her pensive features. Cathy was gung ho about women having equal rights and he knew she was glad to play a part in that happening within the military. “And what does this retired Valkyrie want to do the rest of her life?”
Cathy looked up into his clear gray gaze, the smile dissolving from her lips. “She is looking forward to her up-and-coming marriage, having at least one child and then living to a grand old age with him.”
Jim’s arms automatically tightened around her. “This mortal would like nothing better.”
“You’ll be happy to have a Valkyrie for a wife?”
His smile deepened. “It will be one promise I’m looking forward to fulfilling with you. And God help us if we end up having a red-haired, green-eyed daughter,” he teased gently. “She’ll be a Valkyrie, too.
“Or a son who follows in your footsteps? What if he wants to go into the military? Would you stop him?”
“Our children will decide their own path in life.”
“And if our little red-haired, green-eyed daughter wants to go into the military?”
“Then I’ll back her a hundred percent because if that’s where her heart is, that’s where we’ll support her. Fair enough?”
Cathy reached up, her palm resting against his stubbled cheek. “Fair enough.”
Jim pulled her close. “We’ll make it work because first, we’re best of friends, and we care enough about the other to put our own petty needs aside to work out our joint problems.” There was tenderness in his voice as he pressed a kiss to her sunshine-warm hair. “Our love has already stood the tests, babe. All we have to do is live one day at a time together. That’s something I’m looking forward to.”
SEQUEL: DOWN RANGE, HQN, December 2014, is Marine Corps Captain Morgan Boland’s story.
Two USA TODAY bestselling authors in one book!
Two deadly missions have these men in uniform putting their lives and their hearts on the line for service, duty and love.
Look for COURSE OF ACTION next month,
featuring Out of Harm’s Way
by Lindsay McKenna
and Any Time, Any Place
by Merline Lovelace.
Only from Harlequin® Romantic Suspense!
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Also available from Lindsay McKenna and HQN Books
High Country Rebel
The Loner
The Last Cowboy
Deadly Silence
Deadly Identity
Guardian
The Adversary
Reunion
Shadows from the Past
Dangerous Prey
Time Raiders: The Seeker
The Quest
Heart of the Storm
Dark Truth
Beyond the Limit
Unforgiven
Silent Witness
Enemy Mine
Firstborn
Morgan’s Honor
Morgan’s Legacy
An Honorable Woman
Selected books by Lindsay McKenna
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
@His Duty to Protect #1691
@Beyond Valor #1739
Silhouette Romantic Suspense
Love Me Before Dawn #44
^Protecting His Own #1184
Mission: Christmas/“The Christmas Wild Bunch” #1535
@His Woman in Command #1599
@Operation: Forbidden #1647
Silhouette Nocturne
*Unforgiven #1
*Dark Truth #20
*The Quest #33
Time Raiders: The Seeker #69
*Reunion #85
*The Adversary #87
*Guardian #89
HQN
Enemy Mine
Silent Witness
Beyond the Limit
Heart of the Storm
Dangerous Prey
Shadows from the Past
Deadly Identity
Deadly Silence
The Last Cowboy
The Wrangler
The Defender
Lindsay McKenna is proud to have served her country in the U.S. Navy as an aerographer’s mate third class—also known as a weather forecaster. She was a pioneer of the military romance subgenre and loves to combine heart-pounding action with soulful and poignant romance. True to her military roots, she is the originator of the long-running and reader-favorite Morgan’s Mercenaries series. She does extensive hands-on research, including flying in aircraft such as a P3-B Orion sub-hunter and a B-52 bomber. She was the first romance writer to sign her books in the Pentagon bookstore. Today, she has created a new military romantic suspense series, Shadow Warriors, which features romantic and action-packed tales about U.S. Navy SEALs. Visit her online at:
www.LindsayMcKenna.com
www.twitter.com/lindsaymckenna
www.facebook.com/eileen.nauman
Danger Close (Shadow Warriors) Page 43