The Marine's Temptation

by Jennifer Morey

  Someone had opened a tall, double-wide overhead door, and two men stood there talking. Stephen’s car was parked in front of the building beside another one. There was an SUV on the other side of the big door.

  “Which one is Stephen?” she asked.

  “The man with light brown hair. The taller one.”

  The other man with him wasn’t that much shorter, but his stomach was fatter and he was going bald.

  A delivery truck with no markings on the sides drove into the empty parking lot. Four more men appeared from inside the warehouse. She watched with Carson as the truck backed up to the open garage door. The driver got out, and Stephen and the fat man met him. They carried on a discussion.

  The driver of the truck reached into the truck and came out with a backpack. He handed that to Stephen, who unzipped the top and inspected the contents. When he nodded, the fat man waved to the four standing in the open door. They went to work after the driver opened the back of his truck.

  Georgia watched with Carson as crates were loaded into the truck.

  “Drug dealing?” Carson said.

  “What were you expecting? A nuclear warhead?”

  He glanced over at her with a wry smirk. “My commander said Stephen Chow did jail time for drugs. If he’s after the data he was supposed to deliver in Myanmar, I’d think he’d be busy trying to get it back.”

  He’d just told her something he probably shouldn’t have.

  When he looked at her again, she saw him realize that. “Talking to you is too easy.”

  She was beginning to feel that way, too, as if she could say anything to him and it would be okay. “Just don’t tell me what the data is.”

  “That’d be treason for sure.” He grinned.

  “Your secrets are safe with me.” She half hoped he’d tell her.

  He didn’t. Instead, he started taking pictures with his cell phone.

  A half hour later, the driver of the truck slid closed the back door, and the four men disappeared inside the warehouse. Stephen waited until the truck was driving away before slinging the backpack over his shoulder. The bald man went inside the warehouse.

  Stephen was about to do the same when he saw them.

  Georgia went stiff with tension. Had he seen them? They were about forty yards away and there were trees along the chain-link fence, not thick enough to hide them, though.

  “This Mercedes sticks out like a sore thumb,” Carson said.

  “Can he see us?”

  “Yes, but probably not who we are.”

  “He could take an educated guess.” Mercedes. Who else would be driving that?

  Carson drove away from the garage, turning to go back down the alley. Stephen watched them until they turned toward the main road. Then he walked into the warehouse.

  At the main street, Georgia saw that the truck was just now turning into traffic, which was heavy and backed up from two stoplights a block apart. Carson drove up behind the truck, a few cars back.

  They followed the truck onto the freeway and up to the next exit. This neighborhood was much nicer than the last. The houses were around three-to four-thousand square feet and had neatly trimmed lawns and luxury vehicles in driveways.

  “He makes a good living selling drugs,” Georgia said.

  Carson backed into an empty driveway where it looked as if the occupants were away at work. From here they had a good view of the truck driver’s house. Two other men came out of the inner door of the three-car garage and began to unload the crates. The third stall was left closed, and that’s where they stored the crates.

  “What’s he going to do? Sell it out of his house?” Georgia asked, and then she saw Carson using his phone, looking up the address.

  “It’s on the market.”

  Georgia looked toward the house. “Does he have a real estate license?”

  “If he does, I have his name now.”

  His name would be listed with the posting.

  “This is going to happen quickly,” Carson said. “Unless the owners already moved.”

  “The house must be empty unless he arranged a showing,” Georgia said.

  A van appeared at the house, one of those tall, windowless white vans. It backed into the driveway and four crates were loaded onto it. Money exchanged hands. Carson got it all on video using his phone.

  Over the next two hours, three more vehicles showed up, and then the sale must have been complete, because the driver of the truck paid the other two men and then everyone drove off.

  Carson followed the truck again. The truck driver stopped at a storage facility, where he dumped the truck and got into a BMW SUV and left. Forty-five minutes later, they arrived at a beachfront condominium complex with a cut roofline and white pillars.

  Carson parked and watched the man climb some stairs to an upper-level unit. Then he turned to her. “You might want to wait here. This could get messy.” He worked with his phone, getting the recording ready. He was going to use it to make the man talk.

  Georgia looked around. What if Stephen arrived and saw her alone? “I’d feel safer if I went with you.”

  He didn’t argue. Together, they walked up to the door of the man’s condo. After a couple of minutes, the door opened.

  “Tyler Jones?” Carson asked.

  The man looked from him to Georgia with a low brow that creased the skin above his nose.

  Carson held up his phone after starting the video of the drug deal going down.

  The man watched for only a few seconds and then turned to Carson.

  “We have something to discuss,” Carson said, parting his jacket to show him his gun. “Are you alone?”

  Tyler reluctantly opened the door wider. “Who the hell are you?”

  Carson stepped inside, and Georgia went in after him. He stopped and guided her to stand next to him and in front of a wall, away from windows or doors. The whole wall facing the beach was nothing but windows, but inside the open living room, an arched hall led to bedrooms, and the kitchen was adjacent to the far side of the living room. All the walls were white and there was very little adorning them. Big trim, high ceilings, dark furniture and plenty of light were enough.

  “Someone who’s going to turn this over to police if you don’t tell me about your business with Stephen Chow.”

  Tyler met his look for several seconds. He wore dark green slacks with a white polo shirt. “You saw my business with him.”

  “What do you know about him?”

  He gave off a sarcastic frown and spread his hands wide. “I buy from him.”

  “How did you meet him?”

  “We hang out at the same club.” He told them the name. “He goes there after every big deal. He’s probably there now.”

  “Has he ever talked about his interest in North Korea?”

  That lifted Tyler’s brow. “What kind of an interest?”

  “Technology. Nuclear.”

  Tyler whistled with mock awe. “Stephen?” He chuckled. “He’s a little weird but...nukes?” He chuckled some more. “He ain’t that smart.”

  “Why do you say he’s weird?” Georgia asked.

  He looked at her and shrugged. “He’s all into politics, always talking about how this country is failing and nobody’s doing anything about it. It’s more than an opinion, you know. He’s obsessed. The guy’s delusional.”

  He turned to Carson. “That why you’re after him? He do something against the country?” Tyler laughed, a gravelly sound. “Plan a bombing or something?”

  Neither she nor Carson returned his humor.

  “What happened with his job in Albuquerque?” Carson asked.

  Georgia looked at him. What job?

  “I didn’t know him then. My business with him is recent. He did mention he quit some technology company where he was a janitor and then moved here.”

  “Do you know why he moved here?”

  Tyler cocked his head. Stupid question. Southern California. Drug trade.

  Stephen
hadn’t talked about the data. Tyler wouldn’t be able to help Carson. They left him calling after them, asking, “What are you gonna do with that video?”

  * * *

  Two Peaks wasn’t a strip club, but the cocktail waitresses barely wore any clothes. Carson noticed Georgia’s shock as they entered and found a table. It didn’t take long for him to spot Stephen. He sat with two women with dipping necklines. They smiled, one with a drink in her hand and the other on his lap with a hand on his chest. He was talking to another man at the table, who was with another woman. She wasn’t making a spectacle of herself.

  “Wait here,” he told Georgia.

  “And have one of these hoodlums hit on me?” She got up from the chair. “No, thanks.”

  Carson put his hand on her lower back, more of a message to say that they better not hit on her.

  Stephen saw him approaching, and instant recognition flattened his smile. He lifted the girl on his lap and put her on her feet. Then he gave both women an order that had them withdrawing and leaving the table.

  His friend looked back but remained seated. That told Carson he was an important player in Stephen’s dealings. He did say something softly to his woman, who kissed him and got up and left.

  Carson stopped at the table. Stephen looked at Georgia beside him and then returned his gaze to Carson.

  “It was you I saw today, wasn’t it?” Stephen asked.

  “What did you expect?” Carson wasn’t the type to lie down and let things roll over him.

  Stephen made a show of searching the bar. “Where’s the rest of your SWAT team?” Then he tipped his head up with a drawn-out “Oh,” and said, “That’s right. One of them died.”

  Stephen had killed him. Carson held on to his cool.

  “I could have had you arrested,” Carson said.

  “Well, why didn’t you?” He lifted a drink and sipped, shrewd eyes on him. His friend stood from the table. He was a big man, about three inches taller than Carson. Problem was, he stood too close to Georgia. She sidled next to him as though uncomfortable.

  Carson turned his head. “I suggest you step back.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or I’ll make it the last step you make for a long time.” He’d break his leg.

  The goon grinned lopsidedly, overestimating his brawn.

  Stephen watched the exchange and then held his hand up, telling the man to stand down. “Mr. Adair here is ex–Special Ops. He’s a big-shot MARSOC soldier. Don’t upset him, Lucky.”

  Lucky didn’t like being told to back off, but he did. Folding his arms, he took a step away.

  “Now that everyone’s place is established, why are you here?” Stephen asked.

  “Someone shot at me in the parking garage of my company.”

  “Oh? Too bad they missed.”

  “And again outside of Frederick’s restaurant.”

  “Missed again.”

  Carson waited for him to take this seriously. The length of time he took almost made him wonder if he hadn’t caught on.

  Then Stephen’s eyebrows lifted and he pointed his fingers toward his chest. “You think I’m trying to kill you?”

  He was playing ignorant. And why wouldn’t he?

  Stephen lowered his hands at that, calculation hiding whatever he was thinking. “Why are you here? You got what you were after in Myanmar.”

  Carson said nothing.

  As Stephen watched his face, he began to realize the answer to his own question. “You don’t have the data.”

  Still, Carson said nothing. Nether of them had the data.

  “If I don’t have it, why would I try to kill you?” Stephen asked.

  “Revenge.”

  Stephen nodded. “I did want your head on a stake after that. You cost me a lot of money. My friends don’t want to work with me anymore because of you.”

  There was a motive. Stephen had just handed it to him.

  “You have to resort to drug dealing?” Carson took out his phone and showed him one of the photos.

  “What are you going to do with that?”

  “I haven’t decided. Maybe it would help if you tell me what happened in Myanmar. What happened with the data you had?”

  Stephen stared at him for a long moment. “I told you. I don’t have it. And I’m not trying to kill you. If I were, you’d have been dead already. I would have killed you when I had the chance. Maybe in Myanmar along with your friend. I heard that you two were close.”

  “Who told you that?”

  When Stephen only smiled evilly, Carson surmised it must have been the media. There had been a fair amount of coverage after he’d been injured in North Korea. News that one of his teammates had been killed had leaked out.

  “You wasted your time coming here.”

  Carson didn’t agree. “I came here to warn you.”

  After a deep laugh, Stephen said, “I’m scared.”

  He should be. But he wasn’t thinking yet. Carson helped him out. “You’re going to be arrested. And when you are, they’ll ask you what I just did, only they won’t listen to I don’t have it. And after you tell them everything they want to know, you’ll be sent to prison.”

  Traitor.

  That wiped the smile off Stephen’s face. If Carson knew where he was, so did the government. Would he try to kill Carson again? Would he run? He wouldn’t get far because after today, Copeland would have Ops all over him.

  Seeing Stephen’s hand tighten on the glass he held on the table, Carson smiled, satisfied that he finally understood the predicament he was in. Satisfied, too, that he’d have some time to find the missing data. The only question was where would he start looking?

  Chapter 11

  Carson had to go in to work again today. Georgia had spent the morning reading. This had a surprisingly normal feel to it. Other than her opulent surroundings, she could be in suburbia somewhere and be utterly happy. The only thing that had ruined it was the message from Drake.

  He had texted her to let her know he had arrived in San Diego for his business meeting and would be here for a few days. He’d also asked if she would be available to meet him for coffee. He’d said she didn’t have to respond, just show up at three if she felt comfortable doing so. He’d also said not to feel obligated to meet him.

  Making peace with what had happened did appeal to her, and this felt like a good opportunity to do that. She didn’t have to bring him back into her life again. They could just talk, and she could let him explain why he’d done what he’d done. She did need to know that. She should just let him and then put the past to rest. Move on. Wherever that led her.

  Those thoughts were what had brought her downtown to the hotel lobby where he’d told her he’d be for one hour. If she showed up, they’d walk to a nearby café for coffee.

  Georgia entered the hotel lobby and spotted him right away. He sat on a chair in one of three seating areas, reading the paper.

  Seeing her, he put the paper down and stood, smiling the way he used to, which put her at ease.

  “Georgia.” He stepped toward her and reached for her hands. “Thank you for coming.” He leaned back to look at her. “Stunning as usual.”

  She’d worn a white shirt with crocheted bodice and sleeves with jeans and a tan floppy hat today. Turquoise loop earrings and a turquoise ring added just the right pop. Carson would have looked at her like that, too, only his look would have been much more appreciative and with a hint of amusement and affection. With Drake, it was pure animal attraction. She was a sex object when he liked how she looked. With Carson, it was the whole package. Her. Inside and out.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, not really meaning it. She didn’t like feeling like a sex object.

  “No, thank you, Georgia. I’m so glad you came. Let’s take a walk.”

  As long as she stayed in public with him, she saw no risk. She slipped her hands free of his and preceded him out the door. It wasn’t as if she’d go to his room with him. No.

  Th
e street was busy. People filled the sidewalks and cars clogged the street.

  “I know I already apologized, but I still feel like more needs to be said. At least, that’s the impression I get.”

  “Yes,” she said. “That’s why I came today.”

  The hint of a smile and softening of his eyes said he was glad. And hopeful. She recoiled against any hope he might have.

  Their feet tapped the concrete sidewalk and other people passed them going the other way. Georgia sensed him working up to talking about a difficult topic. It was difficult. But it needed to be said.

  “I should have known I’d shock you,” he started out by saying.

  “Terrify is a better word.” She didn’t go light on him.

  He slowed to a stop, and she did the same. Then he faced her. “I’m so sorry about that.”

  “Why did you do it?”

  “It’s just...how I like it. I don’t hurt anyone. Usually they’re willing and enjoy it.”

  S-M? She subdued her frown of distaste.

  “I should have known you wouldn’t like it. That it would scare you. I just... You’re just...you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You’re important to me, Georgia.”

  The last of what he said didn’t ring true. She didn’t know why. Georgia started walking again. She wasn’t comfortable being close to him anymore.

  He walked beside her. “I know it won’t be the way it was before.”

  How much else didn’t she know about him? His sexual preferences were so far off what she’d assumed, she felt certain there was much more he kept hidden. And it all stemmed from the way he was raised.

  “You didn’t tell me about your childhood,” she said. “Not everything.”

  He grunted. “Who’d want to talk about that? I wish I was from a different family. They embarrass me.”

  “You should have told me how you felt.”

  “Exactly why I called to apologize and why I asked you to meet me today. I should have told you a lot of things. I was afraid of scaring you away.” He grunted derisively. “Guess I ended up doing that anyway.”