by Karen Anders
Sia’s speed diminished and finally slowed to a walk. She was giving him sidelong glances as if he would suddenly explode. He was partly angry and partly frustrated she hadn’t trusted him with this information. They walked in silence to the exit that would lead them from the flight deck back down into the belly of the ship.
They reached the point where they had to part ways and, without preamble, Chris grabbed Sia’s good elbow and steered her into a shadowed alcove. “You have a lot of nerve.”
“Me?” Her chin angled with challenge and her voice was brittle. “You wouldn’t take the easy way out. You never do, Chris.”
“I’m in command here, Sia. You will not withhold information from me again. Is that clear?”
She breathed a heated sigh and faced him defiantly. “Not now, Chris. Not here.”
“Yes, now. Yes, here. Not everything is on your terms!”
And just like that she exploded. “I answer to the Navy, not to NCIS, Chris.”
He didn’t miss the fact he’d said almost those same words to her. Throwing them in his face only made his ire grow. “I was there when your commanding officer gave you a direct order, so for all intents and purposes you do answer to NCIS. You answer to me.”
“What?” she scoffed.
“This isn’t a joke, Sia.” She shoved at him, but he didn’t let her push him away.
He knew she was tired, the kind of tired you didn’t get from one difficult day. But he had to be tough with Sia or he would lose ground with her. She was much too strong a personality to back down when she thought she was right. But he wasn’t perfect. He lost his grip a little, too. “You could severely damage your JAG career by being insubordinate.”
“Is that a threat?” she shouted right back at him. “Are you going to write me up, Chris? For doing my job! Right now I care more about the truth then I care about my JAG career.”
“That’s evident,” he shot back. “But you will heed my authority.”
“I chafe at your authority. NCIS is a civilian agency. You don’t have anything but a fine thread of influence. This should have been my case. It all started with me and me alone. That’s where it should end.”
“I was there when it started. Don’t forget that,” he said flatly.
“How can I forget that? How can I? It destroyed my life.” Her words were precise, old fury barely reined in. “Not a day goes by I don’t think about it and how it eviscerated me.”
He flinched and took a step back at the anguish in her voice. The pain was as sharp as ever, as sharp as a razor blade that had ended his dream of a Navy career, lost him the love of his life, deprived him of the best friend who’d been so like a brother to him, destroyed his hope for a family. It sliced at his heart, mocked him with its cruelty, tried to sever his strength.
Regret burned like acid in his throat, behind his eyes. He clenched his jaw against it, whipped himself mentally to get past it. But it all came rushing back, breaking out of its six-year-old prison. And with it came the sound of his father’s voice. His father had been a mean, drunken, good-for-nothing bastard who had told him time and again he would never make anything out of himself. Never be anything. But he’d been smart, smarter than he’d let on, because his father would have taken away every opportunity he had to excel. He would make sure his father never saw his grades. Not that his father ever cared. As soon as he could, he applied to and got accepted into the Naval Academy in Annapolis with his eye on Top Gun and becoming a fighter pilot. The tests were a piece of cake, and the training fit him like a well-worn glove. He had owned the skies for a brief time, as fleeting as the burst of fireworks as they lit up the night sky. It wasn’t long before he plunged to earth.
“Oh, God, Chris. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.” She brought a hand to her mouth to hold back the cry that tore through her, but the tears still flooded and fell. He struggled with the burden of his guilt. He braced his shoulders against it, trembling inside.
“Chris,” she said softly. “I lost so much and it’s built up for so long. I never got the chance to tell you how angry I was with you. How devastated.”
He closed his eyes, the pain and longing had haunted him for so long, closer to the surface than they had ever been. She touched his shoulder, gripping him as if he were her lifeline, but he knew better.
“You have a right to your feelings, Sia.” But God, it hurt, because she might not have meant to say it, but she was most definitely feeling it.
Then she cupped his face. He opened his eyes and the glistening of her tears totally did him in. He wished he could go back to that day and perish with Rafe. It would have been so much easier to have just simply died.
Her eyes softened as she stared up into his face, remorse as clear as the fine brandy color of her eyes. He wanted far, far more than either of them could give at the moment.
He ran his thumb along her lower lip, watching her eyes darken under his touch, wishing like hell her dragons had already been slain.
But he knew he was one of those dragons.
“We have to keep everything in perspective. We just agreed up on the deck we were in this together.” His voice sounded raw and misused.
Sia dropped her gaze and took a moment to gather herself. Breathing deeply, she wiped at her eyes. “I’m always so damn angry. It serves me well in court, but it’s murder on relationships.” She tried to laugh, but it was half-hearted.
“We owe it to those pilots, Sia. If they were victims, we need to bring out the truth and put a stop to the murders.”
She nodded. “We’re in total agreement about that.”
“About our past, we should bury it and try not to let it interfere with our investigation. I understand how you feel, but you have to abide by the orders you were given.”
Temper flared in her eyes, but she banked it. “I’ll participate in the investigation.” She didn’t give an inch and he accepted that. They would probably clash again, but for now the storm was over.
Then without warning her arms went around his neck and she hugged him hard. He stroked her hair and kissed her temple and some of the pain she’d inflicted leeched away.
Sia was so torn, so confused. Their private and professional lives were at odds, but her emotions—damn, they were making her crazy.
Dumping on him had been so wrong, but it released a lot of pressure inside her. It was all so much—unburdening herself, trying to reconcile her feelings for him and her anger toward him, then this…overload of sensations with him holding her, caring about her.
He tipped her head back so their gazes could meet. She trembled a little, wanted to be strong enough to scoot away, but had the presence of mind to finally admit to herself this felt good. It was time they hashed out their past. It was time it was dealt with and then she could walk away and have it resolved.
They held each other for several minutes. Like a fog settling over her, the gray of his eyes held her steadfastly and all she could think was she wanted to be able to look into his whenever she wanted to. Like this, intimate and personal, or across a crowded room, when nothing more than a quick smile would say everything that needed to be said between them. She had lost that and that loss left a deeper hole than anything else.
She started to speak, to try to find the words, but he tucked her against his chest then, and she knew there’d come a time when she would say what was on her mind, no matter how painful. Reality had a way of intruding to keep her locked up in a situation that seemed to have no end. But she was on the scent now and she wouldn’t let up until the truth was revealed. She had to have that. Lieutenants Washington and Saunders deserved that. And her sweet, strong, funny brother deserved that.
It was a just cause.
When he finally shifted away from her, she only felt it was too soon.
He kissed her temple, then her cheek.
His expression wasn’t readable and that gave her pause. “Go and get cleaned up,” he said.
“Is that an order?” she asked,
a smile playing with the corners of her mouth.
He shook his head and his lips curved a little, too. “Meet me in the officers’ mess when you’re ready.”
“Should I salute you before I go?”
In response, he lifted her hand up to his lips, kissing the back first, then the palm, before curling her fingers in to seal it there. It was a simple gesture, both intimate and heartbreaking, and because she wanted to hold on tightly to both of those things, knowing what lay ahead, she kept her fingers tightly curled as he responded.
“Get going, wiseass.”
Back in her stateroom, she took a quick shower and dressed in her uniform, eager to get to the mess and food. She was starving. She was also ready to continue with the investigation. She mentally reminded herself to check her email to see if there had been any news from her legalman.
Stepping outside, she slipped her briefcase strap over her shoulder and turned toward the mess.
Sia was jostled by several crewmembers as she made her way to the mess. A lot of hungry sailors were crowding the companionway and the ladders. Sia got her bearings and turned toward the ladder. The way cleared a bit and Sia started down. Suddenly, she felt hands on her back and someone gave her a shove.
Losing her balance, Sia began to fall. Only the quick reflexes of the sailor in front of her kept her and him from falling the rest of the way. She apologized and he smiled and told her it was no problem. Once she righted herself, she glanced over her shoulder, but all she saw was the glimpse of dark clothing disappearing down the companionway, getting lost in the sea of sailors.
Had someone just pushed her? It had felt as if the hands had applied force. Maybe it had been an accident and the sailor was afraid Sia would reprimand him or her. She shrugged it off and reached the deck where the mess was located.
She saw Chris near the door to the mess and she stopped on the stairs. She’d forgotten how handsome he was. Age had only tempered those looks, taking him from overtly brash to silently lethal.
He was sorely testing her sense of balance. Their bond, it seemed, was still strong, unexpected as it was unwanted. At least on her end. She found him to be annoyingly irresistible, but she had to be careful not to feel those old feelings and get confused. She could so easily let herself become more attracted to him.
She remembered how he had held her when they’d had that terrible fight after the run on the flight deck. He’d been so solid as he cradled her against his strong chest. It calmed her, soothed her pain in a way that was completely unexpected. He had helped her so much in that moment it caught her off guard and made her realize the strength of their connection.
At that moment, someone he must have known when he’d served aboard the McCloud greeted him with a hearty handshake. Chris smiled. It did something magical to his face, disarming her and making her sigh. What would it take for him to smile like that at her? Too many memories flooded her and her regret was never more poignant than it was at this moment. The man moved on but the smile in Chris’s eyes lingered.
When he turned and saw her, it diminished some, but didn’t completely fade. With a small smile of her own, she made her way over to where he stood.
They went inside, got their food and sat down. She opened up her briefcase and handed him Lieutenant Saunders’s autopsy report. “I won’t say anything until you finish reading it.”
He nodded and as he ate his eggs, his eyes fastened to the pages. Sia still resented her commanding officer’s orders. She didn’t want her hands tied in handling this investigation. But she had been right when she’d told Chris he didn’t have that much of a hold over her.
So what if she was reprimanded. She was going to do what it took to finish this once and for all.
Chris looked up from the pages, his eyes a strong, steady gray, unique and compelling. “They found nothing in his tox screen.”
“Right, but look at this.” She pulled out the report from the flight boss and handed it to him. Forking up some fluffy eggs, Sia said, “The lieutenant was complaining of dizziness and then he went incoherent.” Sliding the fork in her mouth, she chewed and swallowed.
Chris accepted the report and looked at the testimony. “That could have been hypoxemia, caused by a bad oxygen mix.”
Sia nodded. “It could have, but then there would have been evidence of that on the report—his lungs or brain or even the oxygenation of his blood would have revealed that.” She tapped the autopsy report. “The ME cited nothing in the report that would have indicated he was oxygen-starved.” She flipped to the final part of the autopsy. “In fact, Lieutenant Saunders’s cause of death is drowning. But if he was impaired during the flight and it didn’t have anything to do with hypoxemia, then it had to have been something else.”
Hard and sharp, his gaze cut to her. “Like what?”
She met his eyes and shrugged. “Well, an allergy to something he hadn’t been exposed to before is possible.” She paused for a moment and said, “But it could also be caused by ingesting a drug.”
He reached out and snagged his coffee cup and took a sip. “What drug?”
She leaned back in her chair in frustration. “I don’t know. I confiscated an over-the-counter irregularity product from the master chief’s locker, but the bottle was lost after he took it from me.” She could still see his smug smile and she was convinced the man had been harboring more than the secret of what was in the bottle. It was possible he could have been killing pilots. Or know the person responsible, if there was such a person.
“So what makes you suspicious that Saunders was drugged?”
Pushing away the emotion that was distracting her, she reached for logic. “That’s the kicker. The master chief himself. When he talked about the accidents, he shook the bottle. I got permission to search his rack after Saunders’s wingman swore an oath he saw the master chief touch Saunders’s coffee cup. So he had the opportunity to put whatever was in that bottle into Saunders’s coffee cup.”
Chris closed the autopsy report and handed it back to her for safekeeping. “Still, all the evidence we have is circumstantial at this point, along with some healthy speculation.”
Sia nodded. “Playing devil’s advocate?”
He shrugged. “You did enough mock trials in law school to know about that. There’s always somebody who can trip you up if you’re not prepared.”
She nodded, remembering those lessons from the simulated jury trials she’d participated in as a law student. “I know it’s circumstantial, but my gut tells me there was or is a liar and a killer on this ship. Lieutenants Saunders and Washington were only the latest victims. I think that you or my brother somehow got caught in that same killer’s sights.”
“A conspiracy? Is that what you’re thinking?”
“I don’t know.” She tucked the report back into her briefcase. “Yet. But I’ll find out.”
“We will find out, together.”
The inflection on the word together held a deeper, more intimate meaning. There was a time she welcomed that meaning, but now all she wanted to do was put distance between them. It kept her focused and sane.
She shivered a little, thinking about how he’d tasted, how he’d kissed as if no time had passed whatsoever, as if they knew each other in a more profound way than even on a physical level. No, she firmly decided. No more of those thoughts. A couple of kisses was already two too many. But she found her eyes falling to his mouth. He didn’t miss the movement and his gray eyes went steamy.
She decided the best bet was to ignore it completely. “I couldn’t go to court with this kind of evidence. But Chris, even if he had a bottle that was run-of-the-mill medication, it doesn’t mean that’s what was actually in the bottle.”
He smiled, but it didn’t diminish one whit the heat in his gaze. “That is true. I don’t take anything at face value.”
She mused for a moment, a thought coalescing in her brain. “All this negative evidence does add up to something.”
“You have a th
eory.” He rose and gathered up his dirty dishes and she did the same. “It’s not a bad thing to talk out alternatives. You never know what correlation we might draw, or be able to put together some other lead we might have missed. Speculation isn’t a bad thing, even if it’s wrong. So let’s hear it.”
Dumping her trash and placing her dishes in the proper place, Sia turned to him. She wanted to be mad at him, even though she realized it was just an excuse to focus her feelings of helplessness on something tangible. Or someone. Instead, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing herself to relax. Getting worked up wasn’t going to help matters any. Besides, she’d already gotten worked up enough for one day. Her gaze slid sideways across the busy mess as Chris’s hand cupped her elbow to steer her through the crowd. It was more of a mechanism to keep them together so he could hear what she was saying. The warmth of his hand shouldn’t affect her so, but it was like a jolt of electricity. She reined in her thoughts. “In lieu of any evidence the pilot was impaired or his system was faulty, the Navy will rule it pilot error and close the books.”
Chris’s lips thinned and his voice rasped out. “And a killer goes free.”
Her eyes solemn, Sia nodded. “And a killer goes free.”
Chapter 6
Chris followed Sia up the ladder, unable to keep his eyes from her shapely backside. He remembered what it was like to cup her there, to hold her hips against his, giving him the leverage he needed to thrust deep inside her. His gaze traveled up the surprisingly unwrinkled and fresh uniform to her shoulders, remembering how creamy they were, how soft her skin was, so smooth and warm. When Sia looked back down pensively, he hesitated and turned around to look behind him. “You all right?” he asked, meeting her eyes.
She dropped her gaze, and said, “Yes, I almost fell here on the way to meet you at the mess.”
“Lost your footing?” he said, his gaze steady on her.
“I must have,” she said with a shrug.
He stepped closer to her and he noticed how her body tightened. “You don’t sound certain.”