Locked, Loaded and SEALed

by Carol Ericson

  There hadn’t been many toothbrushes perched on the edge of the sink like this in her life. When she dated, she tended to keep the guys away from her apartment. It had taken her a long time to have a space just for herself after all the foster care living, and she didn’t take it for granted.

  Still—she dropped Austin’s toothbrush next to hers in a cup—that one looked right.

  She showered in a matter of minutes, keeping her hair on top of her head. She dressed in front of the mirror and shook out her hair, the black locks dancing loosely around her shoulders. She ran her hands through the strands, keeping the messy look. She didn’t want Austin to think she’d tried too hard with her appearance.

  She gathered her sweats and tucked them beneath one arm. Poking her head out of the bathroom door, she called out. “Just give me another fifteen minutes to pack up a few things.”

  “Take your time.”

  She sniffed the warm, buttery aroma in the air and stepped into the living room, still clutching her dirty clothes. “Did you toast another bagel?”

  He came out of the kitchen with a plate in one hand and waving a fork in the other. “I made some eggs, too. Sorry, I was starving. Do you want some?”

  “No, thanks, and you don’t have to apologize for eating.” Her gaze tracked over his solid form. A bod like that needed more than a half a bagel to fuel it.

  “I’ll be done before you finish packing.” His eyes widened and he pointed the fork at her. “You look...more relaxed. Are you feeling better?”

  “Not much.” She pressed a hand to her belly. “When I think about Dr. Fazal, I feel sick to my stomach.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” He dropped his gaze to the plate of steaming scrambled eggs. “I understand.”

  His low voice vibrated with emotion. He must’ve lost a few of his fellow SEALs in combat.

  “But if we can do something to find his killers—” she hugged her clothes to her chest “—that will make me feel better. Justice is sweet.”

  “Justice is...justice.” He stabbed a clump of eggs with his fork. “Start packing.”

  She accomplished the task in twenty minutes and when she came into the kitchen, Austin had washed and dried all the dishes.

  “Wow, a navy SEAL and handy in the kitchen. Thanks.”

  He snapped his fingers. “Nothing to it. I grew up on a ranch with three brothers and two sisters, and we were all expected to do the chores—outside and inside.”

  “A ranch?” She nudged one of his cowboy boots planted firmly on her floor. “That explains these. Where’s the ranch?”

  “Wyoming.”

  “Never been there.”

  “You’re a city girl, huh?”

  She shrugged. “Never had a chance to be anything else.”

  “Ready?” He took the handle of her wheeled suitcase. “My hotel first, and then I’ll drop you off at the office. We’ll get you there by twelve fifteen.”

  “Hang on.” She charged across the room and swept the framed photo of her and Dr. Fazal from the TV stand and stuffed it into the side compartment of her suitcase.

  As they got to the door, she turned and took in her small apartment, her first place all to herself, her refuge.

  “You’ll be back.”

  The reality of her situation hit her again when Austin crouched beneath her car to search for bugs. He popped up, brushing the seat of his jeans. “Just want to make sure they weren’t busy in the night.”

  “And were they?”

  He spread his empty hands in front of her. “Not this time.”

  He slid into the driver’s seat since he’d be dropping her off. It felt strange giving over so much control to someone so quickly, but she almost felt like her life depended on it—and maybe it did.

  As they got closer to downtown, her stomach tightened into knots. Could she return to the place where someone had shot and killed Dr. Fazal?

  Her phone buzzed and she peered at the screen. “I think it’s the Boston PD.”

  “Answer it.”

  “Hello?”

  “Ms. Grant? This is Detective Marvin.”

  “Yes, hello, detective.”

  “We’re done collecting evidence in the office, and you’re free to return.”

  “One of the nurses already told me. We’re all meeting there after noon.”

  “Good. Let us know if you come across anything.”

  “We will.”

  “And, Ms. Grant?”

  “Yes?”

  “Dr. Fazal shot himself.”

  “No!” Her hand curled around her phone so tightly, the edges cut into her palm. “That’s ridiculous. You saw the office.”

  Austin had put his hand on her thigh, his eyebrows raised to his hairline.

  “I said he shot himself. I didn’t say he committed suicide. We’ll look at all possibilities.”

  “Nothing you say will make me believe Dr. Fazal killed himself after upending his own office.”

  Austin had sucked in a breath.

  The detective ended the call and Sophia reported to Austin what he’d said. “Someone could’ve shot him and then placed the gun near his hand, right?”

  “Yes. Without seeing the evidence report, it’s hard to figure out what happened.” He squeezed her leg. “It’s like I said before, Sophia. Dr. Fazal would’ve taken his own life before he’d allow himself to be questioned and probably tortured.”

  “Before he’d give up what they wanted? Because we know they wanted more than his death. You said that yourself.”

  “I still believe it.” He tapped the windshield. “I’m in the next block.”

  He wheeled her car into the circular front drive of a large chain hotel. “I’ll check with the valet to see if we can leave the car here for thirty minutes.”

  Austin exited the car and cleared things with the valet before waving at her. Seemed as if the attendant had a hard time saying no to Austin, too.

  Austin popped her trunk and the valet lifted her suitcase and laptop from inside. Austin pressed some money into the valet’s hand and grabbed her suitcase.

  They breezed past the reception desk and landed in front of the elevator. He punched the button and looked over his shoulder. “That’s another good thing about having you stay here. You don’t have to check in and leave a trail.”

  What was the other good thing? She let that question pass as she stepped into the elevator. “Leave a trail? You mean, like a credit card? I know enough not to use a credit card if someone’s following me.”

  “Doesn’t matter if you pay with cash. It’s that interaction. Until we know who we’re dealing with, we have to expect a high level of sophistication. They’ve already identified and bugged your car, located and broke into your apartment. These are no amateurs.”

  “And killed Dr. Fazal.” She slumped against the wall of the elevator car.

  “They’re not going to get away with it.” His jaw tightened and a glitter of anger sparked in his green eyes.

  She could almost believe him, but people got away with stuff all the time. She’d had a couple of sets of foster parents who’d gotten away with plenty.

  The car finally stopped on the fourteenth floor, and the doors whisked open. She pressed the button to hold the doors open as Austin wheeled her bag out of the elevator. She followed him halfway down the hallway, and he stopped in front of a room across from the ice maker.

  He fished a card out of his pocket and held it up. “Home sweet home for the time being, although I’ve spent all of ten minutes here.”

  He slid the card home and pushed open the door, holding it open for her. When she crossed the threshold, her gaze skimmed across the king-size bed. Was this the other good thing about having her stay here?

  He parked her
suitcase in the corner and transferred her laptop from the top of the suitcase to a desk by the window. “That sofa folds out to a bed, by the way, and I’ll be bunking there.”

  She shouldn’t have expected anything less from this chivalrous cowboy, even though she’d never met anyone quite like him.

  “It’s your room and you’re a lot bigger than I am. You keep the bed and I’ll take the sofa bed.”

  “We’ll figure it out later.” He shrugged out of his jacket. “Right now I’m going to shower and change. We have an hour before you need to be at the office.”

  “We’ll have plenty of time. The office isn’t far from here.” She stood at the window, pressing her forehead against the glass. Somewhere out there, Dr. Fazal’s killers lurked, waiting for their chance to strike at her. Could she trust Austin to protect her?

  Biting her bottom lip, she turned to watch him pulling clothes out of his suitcase. Right now she didn’t have a choice.

  He glanced up, folding his arms over a pair of jeans. “Are you okay? I won’t be long. You can help yourself to the minibar, courtesy of the US government.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ve had enough from the government. I’m good.”

  He disappeared into the bathroom, and she plugged in her laptop and powered it up. She scrolled through her emails and tripped across another one from Tyler, the guy she’d stood up last night.

  They’d been chatting back and forth for a few weeks and had met face-to-face over coffee. She at least owed him an explanation. She composed a quick email letting him know a friend had passed away unexpectedly and they could reschedule later if he was still interested.

  She clicked Send and then buried her chin in the palm of her hand as she wedged her elbow on the desk. Was she still interested?

  Everything about Austin Foley had overwhelmed her senses from the second he popped up in her back seat. Of course, Austin wasn’t real. He’d appeared like a knight in shining armor just when she’d been plunged into darkness and despair—and he’d disappear just as suddenly once he learned what he was here to learn. She’d probably still be dealing with the darkness and despair once he’d vanished. Dr. Fazal was gone.

  The bathroom door opened behind her, followed by a burst of citrus steam. She twisted around in her chair.

  Austin peered at her from the folds of the white towel engulfing his head. “I left my shirt in here.”

  Lucky her. As he toweled his hair, she tried not to stare at the muscles that rippled across his bare chest and abs.

  He tossed the towel onto the bed and crouched in front of his suitcase, pawing through the contents. “I’m glad I packed some long sleeves and flannels. It’s still cold even though spring’s right around the corner.”

  She took in his back and the way his broad shoulders narrowed to his waist in a perfect V. The man didn’t have an ounce of fat on his body.

  He twisted his head over one of those broad shoulders and heat crested over her face. She turned back to her laptop on the desk. “Yeah, cold for spring.”

  He whistled some tuneless melody and slammed the bathroom door several seconds later.

  She covered her still-warm face with both of her hands. She needed to get a grip. Austin probably had a wife and children—he still looked young. Navy SEALs had families, didn’t they? He would. He seemed like the God, country, family type all over. She’d already checked out his bare ring finger, but that didn’t mean anything. He probably removed his wedding ring on assignment. Hell, he probably used his stellar hotness to gain cooperation from female witnesses like her.

  She spun around when he returned to the room, his coppery brown hair damp and shiny, his face freshly shaved.

  “How often do you do assignments like this?”

  “Assignments like this?” He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

  “You know.” She flapped her hands in the air. “Skullduggery and protecting unsuspecting witnesses and...investigating stuff.”

  “This is my first and most likely last time.”

  “Really?”

  “Sophia, I’m in the US Navy. I’m supposed to be operating overseas on missions approved by the Department of Defense. I am absolutely not supposed to be conducting any type of surveillance or covert actions on home soil.”

  “So, why are you?”

  “I was asked...ordered by higher-ranking personnel than my commanding officers. I thought I had made that clear. I report to some faceless woman—or at least I think she’s a woman—named Ariel. I’m here because I’d been instrumental in spiriting Dr. Fazal out of Pakistan.”

  “If you got caught by the police, would these high-ranking personnel stand by you? Bail you out? Or would they hang you out to dry?”

  “I’m not going to get caught by the police—or anyone else.”

  He’d just answered her question. He was on his own, and the same authority figures who’d ordered him stateside to protect Dr. Fazal would disown him in a second to protect their own backsides. He knew it...and didn’t care.

  She tapped her computer screen. “It’s almost twelve o’clock. Are you ready?”

  “Shoes.” He swept up a pair of running shoes from the floor and sat on the edge of the bed to put them on.

  “No lucky cowboy boots today?”

  “Lucky?” He grinned in a kind of aw-shucks way, and an answering smile tugged at her lips.

  “I don’t know. We’ve been having pretty good luck with you wearing those boots.”

  “These might be lucky, too.” He tied one shoe and stomped it on the carpet. “Might have to do some walking this afternoon.”

  “There’s a coffee place about a half a block down from the office building.”

  “I noticed it before. That’s where I’ll be when you finish cleaning up the office.”

  It didn’t take them long to get from the hotel to the medical office building, and Sophia used her parking card to get into the lot. She directed Austin to a different level from where she usually parked just in case her stalkers were looking out for her car.

  When they stopped at the elevator, Austin held out his hand. “Let me have your phone. I’ll put my number in your contacts, but I’ll be waiting for you at the coffee place, so just come on over when you’re done.”

  He tapped his number into her phone and held it out to her when he finished.

  She glanced at the new contact. “Supreme Dry Cleaners?”

  “That’s me.” He raised his right hand. “Just in case someone ever gets hold of your phone.”

  A little shiver zipped across the back of her neck. This espionage stuff was getting too real for comfort. “Got it. See you in about an hour.”

  He pushed through the metal door to take the steps to the street level, and she stabbed the elevator button to call the car. As she watched the door slam behind Austin, her stomach flip-flopped just like it had last night when he’d left her before the cops arrived.

  In less than twenty-four hours, Austin Foley had become a crutch for her, a security blanket, a required accessory...like a cell phone or a purse. She didn’t like it.

  When the elevator doors opened on the floor of the office, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before stepping out. If the other residents on the floor had been rubbernecking into Dr. Fazal’s office, they must’ve gotten their fill already because all the doors on the hallway were firmly closed. Of course, not many of the doctors worked on Saturday.

  A crumpled ribbon of crime scene tape pooled on the floor in front of the office, and she stepped over it as she entered the waiting room. She released a noisy breath as Ginny, in jeans and tennis shoes, jumped up from the floor.

  “Oh, my God, Sophia. I can’t believe this happened.” Ginny wrapped her in a hug, rocking her back and forth. “I know how close you were to Dr. Fazal, and y
ou had to find him. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for all of us.”

  Sophia patted Ginny’s back. “I-it’s terrible. Have you called all the patients?”

  Ginny gave her a final squeeze before releasing her. “Don’t worry about that. I called everyone who had appointments this week. I referred them all to Dr. Bishop, and I talked to him, as well. I’ll take care of the rest of the patients later.”

  “Morgan and Anna?”

  “Morgan’s in the back and Anna’s not in yet.” She swept her arm across the waiting room. “I’ve been cleaning up the reception area. There wasn’t much out of place in the waiting room, but then all we have are magazines and pamphlets up here. Still, they rifled through those, too. What in the world were they looking for among our magazine racks?”

  “Obviously not drugs.” Sophia pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to give anything away about the motive for the killing, but some things were obvious.

  “Maybe his killer was already drug-addled and just went crazy.”

  At least Ginny wasn’t spouting the ridiculous suicide theory. “Have you seen the cops yet?”

  “I was here when they finished gathering their evidence. You know Dr. Fazal’s computer was stolen?”

  “I told the police that last night.”

  “And all the drugs.” Morgan poked her head out of the supply room. “So, maybe Ginny’s theory is correct. Some junkies broke in here, grabbed the meds, maybe demanded more and when Dr. Fazal didn’t give them up, they shot him.”

  “There was nothing to give up.” Sophia squeezed the back of her neck. “What else could Dr. Fazal give them?”

  Morgan shook her head. “I don’t know. It looks like they searched through everything. I suppose you’ve seen your office since you were here last night. That must’ve been horrible.”

  “It was.” Sophia brushed a hand across her eyes. “I’m going to see what’s what in my office. If Anna doesn’t show up, I’ll help you with the rest when I’m done.”