by Terri Reed
As Ian drove them to the northwest end of base, he asked, “Do you know what your father was working on prior to his death?”
Startled by the question, she shook her head. “He never divulged his cases to me.”
Ian remained silent for a moment. “Do you believe his death was an accident?”
She stared at his profile. “He fell off a ladder cleaning the gutters of the house.”
Yet even as the words left her mouth, the nagging thought she’d had since the moment she’d seen her father lying on the ground roared to the surface.
Graham Monroe had been an extremely cautious man. He would never have gone on the sloped roof without either someone holding the ladder, or without hooking a safety harness to the metal rung he’d attached to the roof. So why hadn’t he tied off to protect himself from falling that fateful day?
Dread filled her. “Are you telling me my father’s death wasn’t an accident?”
Had her father been murdered?
TWO
“Dude, what were you thinking?”
Linc’s pointed question stabbed at Westley. They were friends so Westley didn’t take exception to the tone or the probing. Taking Felicity into his arms was a huge slip in judgment. He knew the rules. Fraternization with a subordinate could get him and her bounced out of the air force.
A stupid move.
But in that moment, she’d looked so vulnerable he couldn’t stop himself from comforting her. The fact that she’d felt so right snuggled against his chest burned a hole through his heart.
She fit him...they fit together—just as he’d imagined.
For the past six months, ever since she’d walked into the training center as a newly promoted staff sergeant, her blue-green eyes sparkling and her infectious grin shining like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, he’d been struggling with his attraction for the rookie K-9 trainer.
It had to stop.
Hadn’t he been telling himself that every day he worked with Felicity? Yes. And every night when she would slip into his dreams.
He didn’t understand it.
Not liking her should have been easy.
She was so annoyingly optimistic and bubbly. Her rookie mistakes sent his blood pressure skyrocketing and her ability to calm the dogs, though surprising and admirable, grated. Which made no sense at all.
The dogs trusted her from the get-go. And that fact told him about the type of person she was. The dogs sensed her kindness, trustworthiness and gentleness. But letting himself show any emotion regarding the rookie trainer was out of the question.
He’d even been harder on her than anyone else so no one would think he liked her. But that had only upset her, and in return made him angry at himself. He couldn’t win.
All those things made his lapse in judgment minutes ago that much worse. And he had no reasonable explanation for taking her into his arms.
He had no room in his life for her. Period. He wasn’t interested in forming any type of emotional bonds. He learned not to growing up, because ties only break and when they do they hurt.
He cast his eyes down, not knowing how to answer. Before he could, the tech sergeant spoke again. “Leaving the debriefing without permission wasn’t cool, man,” he said.
Oh. That. Yeah, the base commander, Lieutenant General Hall, and Captain Justin Blackwood, Westley’s supervisor, would no doubt chew him up and spit him out with a reprimand. Westley sent Linc a sidelong glance. Did that mean Linc hadn’t witnessed the embrace between Westley and Felicity?
He blew out a breath of relief.
If Felicity hadn’t stepped back when she had, they’d both be in deep hot water.
“I wasn’t thinking,” he admitted to his friend. He ran a hand through his hair. “When I heard Felicity’s name called off that list of Boyd Sullivan’s potential targets, all I could think of was getting to her.”
He couldn’t let another person he was responsible for be hurt. Not after losing two last night.
“Excuse me?” Linc shook his head. “I don’t think I want to have heard you right.”
“She was supposed to be on duty last night, but she and Tamara swapped shifts.”
Linc’s eyes widened with understanding. “I see. Make sure you tell Lieutenant General Hall.”
Westley barked out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. I will.”
And he’d also have to find a way to protect Felicity and, in doing so, keep them both out of trouble.
* * *
As Ian brought the SUV to a halt in a parking spot in front of the base-command offices, Felicity stared at him. Her heart pounded in her chest as the implications bounced around her mind. “You didn’t answer my question. Do you think my father’s death wasn’t an accident?”
“There’s no evidence to suggest foul play. But the timing seemed odd,” Ian admitted as he turned to face her. His eyes were troubled. “Your dad was working on a case that was highly sensitive, but we can’t find his case notes or his laptop.”
Anxiety slammed against her ribs. “His office was packed up and brought to the house, but I didn’t see any files or his computer.”
She thought back to the box that had held pictures of her, chronicling her life from a young, gap-toothed kid to her official BMT graduation photo in her dress blues. There were the many photographs she’d taken over the years with her beloved professional-grade camera and gifted to her father to decorate his office. And, of course, all of his framed awards and certificates, a custom-made penholder and other paraphernalia that wasn’t worth much beyond sentimentality.
“What about his home office?” Ian asked.
She shrugged but couldn’t shake the dread crawling up her spine. “I can look. But Dad was as well-ordered and uncluttered as they come. I sorted through his desk and file cabinet searching for his will, which was filed under W. I didn’t see any folders or files that looked official or had anything to do with his work.”
She’d also found her parents’ divorce papers, which had added to her sadness in the days following her father’s death. Calling her mother in San Francisco with the news had been hard. Hearing her mother, usually so in control, sobbing on the other line had pierced Felicity’s heart.
Her parents had still loved each other even though they’d chosen to go their separate ways. Neither had remarried. As a teen, she’d secretly hoped they’d reunite, but that had never happened.
“Are you investigating my dad’s death?” she asked.
For a moment, Ian was silent, but her heart beat so loud in her ears, she was sure he heard it as well.
“Not officially,” he finally replied in a measured tone. “I am looking into your father’s last case. But I’m having to start over. Now with the Red Rose Killer on base, everything else will have to be pushed to the back burner.”
Her chest tightened with a wave of grief. “What was my father working on?”
Ian hesitated. “A hit-and-run off base. A witness reported seeing a Canyon Air Force Base decal on a motorcycle. Your father was trying to identify the bike and its owner.”
“That’s not much to go on,” she said. “Many airman and officers ride motorbikes.”
“True. But the last message I had from your father suggested he had a lead.”
“And that person might have killed him and made it look like an accident.” Sourness roiled in her stomach.
“Possibly. But keep this under wraps, okay?”
“Of course.”
Digesting what Ian had told her, Felicity slowly climbed out of the SUV. Her mind spun with possibilities. Was her father’s death not what it seemed?
She tripped slightly over her own feet. Everything she’d heard, everything that had happened today, was all so overwhelming.
“Steady there.” She recognized the deep voice, and felt a firm hand gripping her arm.
Surprised, Felicity looked up to find Westley waiting on the walkway with Linc, Star at his heels.
Westley’s touch was gentle but she shrugged off his hand, hating that he’d glimpsed her clumsiness. “I’m good.”
“We dropped Tiger off at the training center,” Westley told her as he fell into step with her. Linc, Star and Ian walked behind them.
They headed inside the base-command building. The four-story structure housed the administration staff as well as the photo lab and the OSI offices. Stepping into the elevator, Felicity felt dwarfed by the three men.
Even the dog made her feel tiny.
Ian, on her right, was several inches taller than her five-foot-six-inch frame, while Westley stood at least six feet tall. Behind her, Linc towered above her and Star’s breath created a hot spot on the back of her leg.
Silly. She hadn’t suddenly shrunk, but she stood straighter, as if an extra inch would matter. But once again, her world had been shaken and being average height wasn’t enough. She wanted to be taller and stronger to better protect herself, her coworkers and the dogs.
The elevator doors swooshed open. All three men and the dog waited for her to exit before falling into step behind her. It was like leading a procession of three giant trees as they approached the base commander’s office.
His assistant met them in the reception area and led them to a conference room.
“Staff Sergeant Monroe,” Brenda said with a soft smile directed at Felicity, “I’m glad to see you safe and sound.”
Felicity kept her expression neutral, but inside she cringed. She was trained by the best in the air force, but so were Tamara, Landon and Chief Master Sergeant Lockwood, who’d all died last night. “Thank you, ma’am,” she replied politely.
“Lieutenant General Hall will see you now.” She opened the door to the conference room and announced them.
“Come in.” Lieutenant General Hall rose from where he sat at the end of the long oval conference table. Tall and imposing, with his back ramrod-straight, the base commander was a force to be reckoned with. Felicity’s dad had thought highly of the officer. They were on the same bowling team. Lieutenant General Hall had given the eulogy at her father’s funeral. The reminder had her swallowing several times to ease the ominous tightening in her throat.
After Lieutenant General Hall returned their salute, he said, “At ease.”
Felicity dropped her salute and took a position with her hands tucked at her back. Her gaze landed on another man, who had risen from his seat at the table. He was dressed in a grey business suit, but something about him led her to believe this wasn’t a man to trifle with. His green eyes regarded her with curiosity and speculation.
Lieutenant General Hall resumed sitting, as did the stranger. The lieutenant general’s intense grey eyes landed on Westley for a moment then moved to Felicity. “Do you know why I asked to see you?”
Refocusing on Lieutenant General Hall, she said, “Sir, I assume because of the Red Rose Killer.”
“Yes. It seems Boyd Sullivan is back.” There was no mistaking the hard edge of anger in his tone. “He’s killed three people so far.”
Another wave of grief hit her. “Yes, sir. I’d heard that.”
She needed to see Maisy and offer her what comfort she could. Though having just lost her own father, Felicity knew there wasn’t much comfort to be had. Losing a parent was devastating.
Lieutenant General Hall tented his fingers. “We just received word that more people have received a rose and note like the one found in your mailbox.”
Felicity sucked in a sharp breath. “Who, sir?”
“We’ll get to that,” he said. “First, I’d like to introduce you to Special Agent Oliver Davison of the FBI.”
Oliver rose and nodded. “Since this is a federal case, I will be working with OSI and base security.”
Ian stepped forward and shook Oliver’s hand. “Glad to have the backup.”
Felicity exchanged a confused glance with Westley. Why were she and her boss included in this meeting?
A knock sounded. Brenda opened the conference-room door. “Captain Blackwood and Lieutenant Webb have arrived, sir.”
The two men, along with their canine partners, walked in. Brenda retreated and closed the door behind her.
The dogs sat at attention while the men saluted.
Lieutenant General Hall returned the salute and instructed them to relax.
As the only female soldier in a room full of handsome and higher-ranking men, Felicity’s shoulder muscles tensed. But she would not allow herself to be intimidated. This wasn’t the first time she’d been surrounded by men, nor would it be the last.
It’s a man’s world. You’ll never fit in. Her mother’s words when she’d learned that Felicity had enlisted echoed through her mind, but Felicity refused to accept her mother’s pronouncement. Sure, Felicity had experienced some sexism over her four years of service, but it only made her more determined to prove herself worthy.
Westley stepped closer to her side. The overwhelming sense of camaraderie his nearness generated surprised her. He may be miserly with his praise and exacting in his teaching style, but her boss had her back. Which was confusing, distracting and, she had to admit, comforting.
“All of you take a seat,” Lieutenant General Hall instructed.
When Westley moved to pull out a chair for her, she gave him a pointed look. He retreated but nonetheless sat in the chair beside her. The last thing she needed was him showing her deferential treatment because she was in danger.
Or was it because she was a woman? Did he see her that way?
She narrowed her eyes at him. No, that couldn’t be. He was too hard on her at work for her gender to be an issue.
He raised a questioning eyebrow.
She refused to be coddled by anyone, especially Westley. She looked away.
The other men took seats, with the dogs settling behind their chairs. Ian remained standing.
“We’re waiting for a few more people,” General Hall said. “Would anyone like some water? Coffee?”
Everyone declined the offer.
A few moments later, Brenda escorted in three women.
When Maisy Lockwood walked in, Felicity’s heart jumped. The preschool teacher’s pretty eyes were red-rimmed and her countenance, usually so cheerful, was somber. Felicity gripped her chair’s arms and fought for the self-control not to rush to her friend’s side.
Behind Maisy came First Lieutenant Vanessa Gomez in her green nursing scrubs. Her dark hair was caught up in a clip at the back of her head and her brown eyes glowed with worry. Last to file in was Airman Yvette Crenville, the base nutritionist. The willowy blonde stopped and, with one look at those gathered in the room, seemed ready to bolt. There was no mistaking the pinch of fear in her pretty face.
After the formal greetings, the three women took seats at the table.
Lieutenant General Hall’s gaze filled with sympathy. “Miss Lockwood, we are all grieving over the loss of your father.”
Maisy sniffed and nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
Lieutenant General Hall’s gaze moved to Vanessa and Yvette. “Thank you also for coming in. You both, along with Staff Sergeant Monroe, received a red rose and threatening note from Boyd Sullivan, aka the Red Rose Killer.”
Stunned, Felicity turned her gaze to the other women. After Felicity’s date with Boyd, he’d moved on to Yvette, who’d also been in their BMT. The pair had dated until his discharge, when she’d publicly broken up with him. But as far as Felicity knew Vanessa, a critical care nurse, had no connection to Boyd. She’d been in officer training at the time.
“Base security will be on high alert, especially at the preschool, hospital and base housing,” Lieutenant General Hall said.
“You think Boyd will come after me?” Maisy’s v
oice rose.
“Your father was my friend,” Lieutenant General Hall stated, his voice tinged in sadness. “I won’t take any chances with your safety.”
“I don’t understand, sir,” Vanessa said. “Why would Boyd target me?”
“That is an excellent question, Lieutenant,” Lieutenant General Hall stated. “One I will leave to Captain Blackwood and his team to uncover. Until then your safety is our priority.”
“Thank you, sir,” Yvette said, her voice wobbly. “This is so scary.”
“Not to worry, Airman Crenville,” Lieutenant General Hall replied in a soothing tone. “Boyd will be captured quickly.”
Yvette shivered. “I hope so.”
Sweeping his gaze over the female personnel, Lieutenant General Hall said, “The four of you are dismissed.”
Felicity rose with the others but paused as Westley stood and touched her arm.
“Wait for me in the hall,” he said in a low voice.
She blinked at the request. She wanted to ask him why, but her desire to talk to Maisy overrode her curiosity. She nodded and hurried after Maisy. She snagged her friend by the elbow once they were in the hall. “Oh, honey, I was so sorry to hear about your dad.”
Maisy’s eyes filled with tears. “It was horrible.”
Felicity drew Maisy to a bench along the wall as Vanessa and Yvette walked away. “Here...sit.”
Maisy sat and wiped at her eyes. “I don’t understand how this could happen.”
Neither could Felicity. The whole thing seemed surreal. Boyd Sullivan escaping prison, getting on base in the dark of night and killing three people and terrorizing three more. She prayed God would bring Boyd to justice quickly.
“He took my dad’s cross necklace,” Maisy said, drawing Felicity’s attention.
That was odd. Boyd hadn’t collected souvenirs from his past victims. At least not that Felicity recalled. What did it mean when a serial killer changed his MO?