by Patti O'Shea
“From what I’ve heard, Kend—Captain Thomas had to take care of her family’s obligations and finances even as a child. Responsibility is ingrained in her.”
Alex nodded. That was something he wouldn’t have gleaned from any personnel file, but it was an interesting piece of information. “So we have two usually reliable officers acting out of character. It happens, especially when sex is involved.”
“Normally, sir, I’d agree with that—if it were two other people.” Before Alex could interrupt, Cantore continued, “But it’s more than personalities. Captain Montgomery was worried about Captain Thomas while we were out in the field. He told me something had her scared and that he’d asked Captain Hunter to watch out for her while we were gone.”
Alex went still. “Did he tell you what had her alarmed?”
“Marsh didn’t know, Colonel. That was part of what had him so antsy to get back to the city. Captain Thomas doesn’t frighten easily. If something had her worried, it was big.”
Instead of responding, Alex studied the man standing in front of his desk. Cantore needed a haircut and a shave too, but the fact that he was the chief warrant officer of a Special Forces team said a lot. And despite what Alex had said about the men being a disgrace, it was far from true. Montgomery had a topnotch group and their records were exemplary. The only point that had him hesitating was Cantore’s obvious need to protect his captain. He might be exaggerating the situation.
“There’s one more thing, Colonel.”
Alex returned his attention to the chief and waited.
“Yesterday evening, I was sitting on Marsh’s front porch. As I was waiting to talk to him, I saw Captain Thomas hurry by and she was headed east. When I told my captain that, he muttered a curse and took off after her. I haven’t seen him since then, and neither has anyone else we’ve asked.”
With a scowl, Alex considered what the chief had said. First point was that Montgomery’s team had been doing their own investigation into their captain’s disappearance. He wasn’t surprised by that—these men were obviously a close-knit group—but he didn’t like it. The second thing undermined the chief’s position, though he clearly didn’t believe it would. Montgomery had taken off after Thomas and disappeared. It definitely sounded as if he’d hooked up with her and gotten lucky.
“Anything else to add, Chief Cantore?”
Alex didn’t miss the way the man’s jaw tightened. He’d figured out that his arguments hadn’t swayed Alex’s opinion. “No, sir,” Cantore said brusquely.
“Then you can join your men at the barber. I want all of you in my anteroom at oh eight hundred; that hasn’t changed.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Dismissed.” The noncom saluted and pivoted to leave. “Chief, if you or your men find any evidence as to the whereabouts of either Captain Montgomery or Captain Thomas, I expect to be informed. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” the man gritted out tightly.
The door closed with a snap behind the chief, but not hard enough for Alex to take issue with it. His lips quirked. Expressing disapproval that subtly took skill.
A knock wiped the smirk off his face. “Enter.”
Sergeant Foster walked in with a handheld computer. The tablet was wafer thin and lightweight but still a powerful machine. “Sir, HQ is having a tech glitch—they can’t transmit. They had this tablet with Captain Thomas’s file brought over for you.”
“Thanks, Sergeant,” Alex said, taking the computer and placing it square on the blotter atop his desk. “That’ll be all.”
After his aide exited, Alex fired up the tablet. The first thing he saw as the screen lit up was an image of Thomas. His heart rate doubled.
But sir, it’s important.
Son of a bitch. Maybe it really had been important. She’d chased after him and hadn’t backed down until he’d practically taken off her head. Now he had to give some credence to Cantore’s insistence that the two captains weren’t off screwing each other’s brains out.
Alex pinched the bridge of his nose and stared at the girl’s picture. Shit. He might have been the last person to see Captain Kendall Thomas before she disappeared.
*** *** ***
Alex dragged his feet as he walked down the elaborate marble hallway. Even though he’d decided Brody was almost good enough for his sister, it went against the grain to consult with his brother-in-law about anything. Too bad he was the one person Alex trusted to be honest with him about Montgomery. He needed some answers before he decided how to approach the case. Brody was friendly enough with Montgomery to be able to give him some insight, but not so friendly that his opinion was suspect.
He scowled. It was late, he was tired and he hadn’t been home since yesterday morning. He just wanted to call it a day and get some sleep. Instead, he’d been snarled at by his sister when she’d told him where to find her husband and now he had to chew the guy out for angering Ravyn.
Without knocking, Alex opened the door to the private sitting room. To his left was an enormous table surrounded by twenty intricately carved chairs. That side was empty. On his right was a sitting area with an overstuffed sofa, several matching seats and a low table. Alex spotted Brody lying on the floor next to his son. They were creating something with old-fashioned wooden blocks. He didn’t doubt for a minute that his brother-in-law knew he was there, but the man kept his attention on what he was building with Cam. For a minute, Alex smiled fondly at his nephew. Ravyn and Brody had their hands full—the kid had a mind of his own—and Alex guessed it would only get worse as the boy got older.
A clumsy move by Cam toppled one of the blocks on the castle tower, sending it rolling across the floor. The boy’s lower lip quivered, but only for an instant. Alex felt someone tapping into the planet’s energy, directing it, then the block sailed through the air and settled back into its original position. I did not see that. Cam did not telekinetically move anything. “It’s sleep deprivation,” Alex muttered softly.
His nephew looked in his direction, and with a squeal, ran over to say hello. Alex picked the child up and got a grin, then a hug. Damn, he loved this kid—even if he was the spitting image of his dad.
Brody pushed to his feet at the same time Cam demanded, “Down!” Alex lowered the boy to the floor and the toddler hightailed it back to the blocks. For a two-year-old, he had an unusual level of intensity and focus, not to mention stubbornness. That last trait he’d gotten from Ravyn—no question about it.
Alex glared threateningly at Brody when his brother-in-law reached him. “What the hell did you do to piss off Ravyn?”
“I’m not the one she’s mad at.”
Something in the man’s bland tone tipped off Alex. “Me? What did I do? I haven’t seen her in at least three days.”
“A few hours ago, Stacey came up to the house looking for you.” Brody tucked his fingers in the front pockets of his jeans. “Did you forget she had a special dinner planned?”
For an instant, Alex was nonplussed; then he remembered. He’d promised Stacey he’d be there no matter what came up, and instead, he’d spaced out completely. “Oh, shit.”
“Watch the language, Colonel,” Brody warned him with a frown before glancing at his son.
Alex looked over too, but Cam was busy building a wall, oblivious to the conversation between them. “He’s not paying attention to us; don’t worry about it.”
“You’d be surprised how much he hears. Ravyn doesn’t want him to start swearing.”
Shaking his head, Alex said, “That’s an uphill battle. Not only is this an army post, but the kid has you for a father.”
Brody grinned. “Hey, I’m doing my part. The bruises on my shins were incentive enough to watch what I said.”
It was a struggle, but Alex kept from smiling. Damn, he didn’t want to like Brody, but it was hard not to. All Alex had ever wanted was for Ravyn to be happy and treated well. Her husband filled both those requirements admirably. Hell, the man’s whole world revolved around
Ravyn and their son. “My stepsister has you wrapped around her little finger.”
“If anyone would know that, it’s you.” Brody’s grin broadened. “She had you wound there first.”
“No, she had my father there first. I held out for a full day.” Alex stopped fighting the smile. “Your wife is dangerous. You know that, right?”
“By the time I figured it out, it was way too late.” But Brody didn’t sound as if he minded. “What’s up, Colonel?” he asked, sobering. “You didn’t come here to talk about Ravyn.”
Before he could answer, the door opened and his sister came in. She ignored him, which told Alex she was still angry. This was the biggest drawback to his relationship with Stacey. Ravyn and Stace were best friends and he usually took the heat on both fronts when he was in the doghouse with one of them.
“Time for bed, Cam,” Ravyn said.
With perfect diction, his nephew replied, “Oh, shit.”
Alex felt his face heat. This was not good.
Ravyn scooped up her son before turning and glaring. “Damon,” she growled, voice low.
“Don’t look at me, sweet pea.” Brody held up both hands. “I’m innocent.”
“Alex!” Ravyn stormed across the floor without jostling Cam even a bit. “Can’t you control your mouth for five minutes?”
He considered telling her the same thing he’d told her husband—that if he were surrounded by soldiers it was merely a matter of time before the boy heard hard language—but when he saw the sparks jumping in his stepsister’s eyes, he decided not to argue. If he used that as a defense, she’d clean his clock. “Sorry.”
“Sorry,” she muttered. “As if that’s going to erase the word from his vocabulary. Thanks a lot.” And with one last glower, Ravyn left, closing the door sharply behind her.
“You gave me up damn fast,” Alex complained.
“Colonel, there was no way in he—heck I was taking the heat for your mistake, not when I sleep with her.” Alex frowned, but Brody ignored it. “Look at it this way, Ravyn isn’t half as mad as Stacey. You’ll be facing much worse when you go home.”
“Don’t remind me.” Stacey was slow to anger, but once her temper was ignited, it smoldered. He decided not to think about it until he had to. “I need to ask you a few questions.”
Brody sobered. “Is this about the murder? I don’t know anything, but I hope you find the son of a bitch soon.”
“So do I.” Alex rubbed his forehead for a second—fatigue was catching up with him. “I’ve put my best soldiers on the investigation—they haven’t come up with much yet. But Hunter isn’t who I wanted to ask you about.”
“Who is?”
“Wyatt Montgomery.”
“You think he’s responsible? Not a chance in hell.”
Alex was tempted to remind Brody about his language, but it wasn’t worth it. “No, I don’t think he killed Hunter, but he’s missing. You know the kid, if he’d finally scored with the woman he’d been chasing for four months, would he go AWOL?”
“No.”
Closing his eyes for a second, Alex took a deep breath before he pinned Brody with a hard look. “I need you to think about this carefully.”
“It doesn’t matter how long I think about it, Montgomery is levelheaded and responsible. He’d never go AWOL. Sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear, but you asked for my opinion. If you want your own ideas parroted back at you, there are plenty of ass-kissers around. Go find one of them.”
Brody was right. “Shit,” Alex said quietly. “This means I have two missing officers to find.”
“Hunter and Montgomery went through Spec Ops school together—they were buddies.”
“You’re suggesting that Montgomery’s disappearance might be linked to Hunter’s death? I’m considering that. Especially with one of the pieces of information I was given today.”
Hell, it had to be tied together. Montgomery asks Hunter to watch over Thomas. Hunter gets his throat slit and Thomas and Montgomery go missing. It had to center on the girl—on whatever had her scared. Alex wished to hell he hadn’t blown her off. She’d wanted to tell him something, and maybe that something would have solved the murder.
And maybe prevented two other deaths.
Just because no one had found bodies, that didn’t mean Montgomery and Thomas were alive. The Old City was huge. It was estimated that between twenty-five and fifty thousand people had lived here when the aliens had inhabited it. There were only six hundred Western Alliance troops present, leaving a lot of unoccupied ground—and a lot of places to hide a couple of corpses.
“Shit,” he said again.
Brody knew better than to quiz him, and Alex didn’t volunteer any info. When he met with McNamara tomorrow morning to give her an update on the situation, he’d have to mention that the problem might be bigger than one murder. The post commander had already given him hell over Hunter’s death, and the last thing Alex wanted to tell her was that things might be worse than they’d thought. She’d really push him now.
“I’m going home. Try to sweeten Ravyn up, will you?”
A few moments later, Alex stopped right inside the door of the house he shared with Stacey and watched her. She sat at the table, picking at the edge of a sugar cookie. The plate was covered with small crumbs and he guessed she’d taken more than one apart.
For an instant, he thought about when he’d met her, the way she’d faced him down. Back then her hair had been strawberry blond, and long, flowing halfway down her back. Now it was auburn and cut to shoulder length. But the changes didn’t matter to Alex. Stacey was special. With her, he didn’t have to pretend to be someone he wasn’t, he didn’t have to watch every damn word he said, or blunt his personality. He didn’t intimidate her in the slightest and that freed him. She chewed him out when he deserved it and hugged him when he needed someone to hold him. And she’d given him something he’d never had in his entire life—contentment.
She looked up, hazel eyes hot, and Alex almost smiled. He was going to catch hell, but that was okay.
“So you finally made it home.”
“Stace, I’m sorry.” He still hated apologizing, and the words never came easily to him, but he’d learned how to say them in the three years they’d been together.
Standing, she tugged the belt of her pale green robe tighter and left her fingers tangled in the bow. “Answer one question for me. Did you miss dinner because of some breaking event in the murder investigation?”
Alex had always been honest with Stacey and he wasn’t going to start lying to her now, not even to make things easier on himself. “No, there was nothing that couldn’t have waited until tomorrow. I should have been here.”
With a nod, she pivoted and left him standing flat-footed. He wasn’t sure how to read her; this wasn’t usual behavior for Stacey. Normally, she’d be ripping him up one side and down the other and he deserved it. Alex chased after her. He caught up with her as she stood in the doorway to their room. “Stace?”
“This house has four bedrooms. Use one of the others.” She closed the door in his face.
*** *** ***
Stacey stepped onto the back porch and set her teacup on the small table. She walked to the stone railing and looked out over the backyard. There was a patch of grass, some low bushes and flowering plants. The grounds weren’t large, but they were beautifully landscaped and surrounded by a tall stone wall for privacy.
Even after living here for years, there were still times she looked at this perfection and was unnerved. Nothing ever needed to be trimmed or mowed. No dust ever settled and no bugs or animals made their way inside the city. Every building, every bench, every fountain remained as flawless as if they’d been created that very day. If she were on Earth, there would be birds singing and a breeze to ruffle her hair. Not here, though, and Stacey felt a pang at the absence—and a stronger ache as she realized, despite its oddness, she’d miss the Old City.
She ran her hands over the front of he
r khaki trousers and returned to the table. Thinking about what she’d miss, who she’d miss, was a pointless endeavor. After adjusting her chair, Stacey rotated the teacup in its saucer so that it was at an exact right angle to her body. Normally, she wasn’t this meticulous, but the precision was a way to hold herself together.
A way to keep the tears at bay.
It was over.
She couldn’t do it anymore. Three years spent trying to break through the fortress surrounding Alex Sullivan was all she could take. Last night had merely been the last straw.
If he’d missed dinner because of something related to the murder, Stacey would have shrugged it aside—that would have been too important to put off. But when she’d asked him if that had been the reason, he’d said no. Maybe she should be grateful that he didn’t lie to her. At the same time, though, she couldn’t help wondering whether he’d told the truth because her response didn’t matter to him. Maybe it was indifference, not respect.
The only place Stacey felt like she had Alex—really had him—was in bed. When they had sex, he didn’t hold back much of himself, but that was the one time she didn’t sense the distance he kept between himself and the rest of the world.
She bobbed the string from the tea bag slowly up and down, then pulled it out and let it rest on the side of the saucer. Her hands weren’t entirely steady as she took a sip.
Herbal tea. For a coffee addict. It was a good thing Alex had cleared out before she’d woken up this morning.
Oh, she’d tell him about the baby. He deserved that and so did their child, but she wasn’t sharing it with him now. After she returned to Earth and had her own home established—and her emotional equilibrium back—she’d give him the news.
It didn’t take much thought to anticipate Alex’s reaction—he’d ask her to marry him. Too bad it would be for all the wrong reasons. She didn’t want him this way. If he ever proposed, she needed it to be because he loved her. He might utter the words now, but they wouldn’t be true. Alex was very goal-oriented; he’d do and say whatever he had to in order to bring her around to his way of thinking.