“Do you think you can sleep now?” Lucas heard himself ask.
The question seemed to relax the set of her shoulders. “I think so.” She sent him a small smile. “Thank you, Lucas.”
Disappointment vied with relief. Apparently, Charlotte was as torn as he was.
“You don’t have to thank me.” He got up, freeing her to get back into bed.
“Yes, I do,” she insisted, as she lay down, carefully avoiding his gaze. “I’m going to find a way to pay you back for everything.”
Disappointment clawed at him, but he was grateful for her reluctance to deepen their intimacy. Clearly, she had plans for her future, and they didn’t entail getting involved with a SEAL.
“Sweet dreams,” he said, settling back into the armchair. “I’ll be right over here.”
“Sweet dreams.” Her tone was distinctly poignant. He could tell she was wishing he would hold her as he had the night before in Saul’s guest bed. But they’d moved beyond the stage that allowed for platonic comfort toward something far more complicated—a desire that had no place in the futures they’d carved for themselves.
Closing his eyes, Lucas allowed himself a moment to wallow in pointless longing. Then he rose above his yearnings and focused, instead, on the big picture.
They were here to find out what had brought Lloyd Elwood to Sabena. With luck, tomorrow they would do so—before the chief of police communicated with his brother-in-law.
It was a hot September day. So hot that it would take an afternoon thunderstorm to cool the steaming landscape. But there could be no relief for her and Lucas.
Setting the canoe paddle across her lap, Charlotte rested her tired arms and let Lucas, who sat behind her, row them the rest of the way across the river.
Following breakfast in Magnolia Manor’s elegant dining room, they had selected a canoe from the small fleet made available to the guests. Curiosity drove them to get a better look at the warehouse where Saul was undergoing a job interview while getting a look inside. As soon as his interview was over, he had promised to call them.
With workers on the pier preventing them from venturing too close, Charlotte and Lucas turned their canoe upriver and bird-watched. A pair of ospreys circled overhead, diving occasionally for fish. Charlotte spotted a blue heron standing as still as a statue at the water’s edge.
Flapping cooling air under her long-sleeved, fuchsia-colored blouse, Charlotte nonetheless basked in the peacefulness that came from being on the water. Even through closed eyes, she could see the sunlight glinting on its sparkling surface. The waves slapped rhythmically on the fiberglass hull, and one of the ospreys let loose with a keening cry that epitomized the sound of freedom.
For the hundredth time that morning, Charlotte relived the kiss she and Lucas had shared, and her heart lifted.
As kisses went, she had to admit she’d experienced nothing like it. The tender pressure of his mouth, almost reverent, had ignited a fierce quickening in her, which demanded something she couldn’t give—her heart and soul. Thank God she’d found the wherewithal to retreat into the bathroom in search of her common sense.
She could tell he’d been as shaken by the episode as she had, which was a consolation. At least he hadn’t been thinking about Monica while kissing her.
She craned her neck to glance back at him. Lucas was still paddling. Wearing his sunglasses, his hair ruffled by the wind, he sped them across the water with powerful strokes of the paddle. It was hard to tear her eyes off him. Her desire for him was building like the clouds she could see bunching up on the horizon.
Beyond their role-playing, what would be the point of getting involved in a real-life relationship, she asked herself? Her plans demanded all her energy and focus. After nine months of training, she would be sent abroad as a case officer. Nor was it practical to indulge in a temporary fling, certainly not with Lucas, who didn’t seem like the type. He’d be better off repairing his relationship with Monica.
The shrill ring of his cell phone fractured Charlotte’s painful thoughts. The canoe wobbled as he put the paddle down to answer it.
“Go ahead,” he said.
Charlotte looked back at him again. Saul had to be telling Lucas where to rendezvous because he was scanning the shoreline, looking for something.
Charlotte faced forward and looked, too.
“I see it,” he stated, just as she spotted a black sock tied to a branch hanging out over the water.
Putting his phone away, Lucas picked up the paddle again. Charlotte pitched in to help, and in less than a minute, they were gliding onto a flat bit of shoreline and into the cool shade afforded by cedar trees. Not a soul seemed to be watching them, but the sock indicated otherwise.
Hopping off the front of the boat, Charlotte tugged it far enough onto shore that Lucas could make his way up the middle and step out.
“Thank you.” Taking over, he pulled the rest of the canoe ashore, then turned to assess their environs. A squirrel scampered across the ground, and several birds darted in the branches overhead. Aside from the usual forest inhabitants, the place appeared deserted.
“Is Saul even here?” Charlotte asked, suddenly wary of a trap.
“Definitely,” Lucas assured her with a glint in his eyes. “Stick close,” he advised. “You’re not going to see him unless he wants you to.”
Hurt sliced through Charlotte as he turned his back and proceeded into the forest ahead of her. Yesterday, he would have taken her hand.
That was role-playing, she reminded herself, before trailing Lucas into the eerily quiet woods.
Fallen leaves crunched under Lucas’s tennis shoes, frustrating his ability to hear. It was broad daylight, for goodness’ sake, with sunbeams shooting through the branches to brighten the woods around him. He ought to be able to spot Saul before The Reaper could startle him.
To give Charlotte credit, she hung back far enough that she wasn’t adding her noise to his. Sensing an ambush, Lucas paused under a massive oak tree and turned in a slow circle, then nearly jumped from his skin as Saul materialized right next to him.
Charlotte, who must have received a signal from Saul not to give him away, chuckled at Lucas’s reaction.
Grinning, Saul, who looked like a woodsman, dressed all in khaki with his hair hanging loose about his shoulders, handed Lucas a piece of paper.
“What’s this?”
“Sketch of the warehouse. My interview didn’t go so well. Once I told them I was from Oklahoma, it was all over. They’re leery of outsiders. But at least I got a good look around.”
“And?” Charlotte rounded Lucas so she could see Saul’s drawing. “Oh, wow,” she exclaimed. “You call this a sketch?”
Saul’s artistic abilities were well known to the troop, who exploited his talent whenever taking photos wasn’t an option. His sketch was, in fact, a detailed blueprint of the parts of the warehouse he had seen. To Lucas’s way of thinking, there was only one reason why Saul would go to such trouble.
“Let me guess,” he said. “They’re not shipping marine parts.”
Saul’s hazel eyes narrowed. “Can’t tell for sure, but you’d think if they were, I’d at least see some propellers lying around or anchors and stuff, right?”
“But you didn’t,” Lucas guessed.
“Nope. Everything was in crates. Not boxes, mind you, but crates, the way weapons are packaged. What’s more, there’s an elaborate security system on all the doors.” Excitement tinged Saul’s normally laid-back drawl. “Get this. I asked who owned the building and the name I got was Lewis Blanchard, who’s cousins with the chief of police, who’s the brother-in-law of our very own Commander Dwyer. I think we’ve found Dwyer’s stash, sir.”
Lucas swung a stunned look at Charlotte, whose jaw dropped.
Behind the lenses of her black-framed glasses, her cherry-brown eyes went wide. “Lloyd must have realized it, too. No wonder they killed him.”
Lucas reeled. If they had, in fact, stumbled on the weapo
ns stolen by The Entity then the FBI deserved to know about it.
“We have to tell Fitz…but not until we’re sure,” he qualified as plans started to form in his head. “Chief,” he said, refocusing on Saul, “do you know if there’s a dive shop anywhere in this town?”
“There isn’t,” Saul replied. “Already thought of that. There’s only a general store selling end-of-season swimming equipment. Dang it, I knew you’d suggest we swim in.” Even though Saul was a SEAL, he detested dives of any kind.
“Swimming is the only way in if there’s a security system,” Lucas pointed out.
Saul considered the facts with a long-suffering expression.
Charlotte spoke up suddenly. “I’m going, too, right?”
The question threw a sudden wrench into Lucas’s developing plans. “Uh….”
“You can’t leave me alone,” she reminded him, a distinct flush under the foundation on her face. “Fitz told you not to let me out of your sight.”
Lucas looked to Saul for help but got only a sardonic eyebrow lift.
“Charlotte.” Lucas reached for her shoulder only to have her shrug away from his touch. “We’ve been trained to swim in the dark, where there’s a current—”
“Catfish and cottonmouth snakes,” Saul summed up, causing Charlotte’s determined expression to waver.
Then she brightened suddenly. “You could let me in once you’re inside the building.”
“Exterior cameras,” Saul countered, “Little John’s right. Only way in is to swim in. Open any doors, and the police will show up in minutes.”
Lucas sought to reassure her. “It’ll be okay. You’re safe at the inn. Dwyer doesn’t know we’re here.” At least, he hoped that was the case.
Eyes glinting dangerously behind her glasses, Charlotte notched her hands on her hips. “If you’re wrong and I’m taken again, I will never forgive you.”
Saul raised both eyebrows this time and waited for Lucas to say something.
“No one is going to snatch you away tonight,” he promised her. He wished he could hug her to reinforce his assertion, but she looked pricklier than a cactus at that moment.
“How do you know?” A bead of sweat rolled from her temple, informing him that the wig was uncomfortably hot.
“Because I’m leaving you my pistol and my HK. Just don’t shoot Mrs. Digges by mistake,” he added, hoping to bring a smile to her face.
When her mouth stayed in a firm, flat line, Lucas turned his attention back to Saul. “Pick up whatever gear you can get, Chief, and we’ll insert tonight. I’ll bring the reconnaissance camera.”
“Yes, sir.”
Charlotte interrupted. “How are you going to bring a camera through the water?”
They both responded at the same time, “It’s waterproof.”
With a sound of disgust, she wheeled away, pretending disinterest in the rest of what they had to say.
Lucas took one more look at Saul’s drawing. When the garage-type doors were raised, big boats could pull up inside to unload without anyone observing them. Sabena, accessible via the Atlantic Ocean and the Chesapeake Bay and situated two hours from Washington, DC, was the ideal spot to harbor the weapons The Entity had been stealing—weapons that were unorthodox and ruthless and normally used by unfriendly countries.
Like the SEALs, The Entity didn’t want America’s enemies getting their hands on the arms. Unlike the SEALs, they weren’t destroying the weapons or dismantling them. They were hoarding them to make America the mightiest nation of all. And that, in Lucas’s opinion, was a prelude to war.
“All right, Chief.” Having memorized the building’s layout, Lucas handed the drawing back to Saul. “Let’s rendezvous at the Manor, down where the canoes are kept, at 2200 hours. Call me if you need a pickup. All we’re going to do until then is eat and hang out.”
“I’ll walk there,” Saul volunteered. “This entire town is less than three miles across. And there ain’t no Uber out here, either,” he added with an intentionally thick dialect.
“Just the way you like it,” Lucas reminded.
“That’s right. See y’all. Bye, ma’am.”
“Bye, Saul.” By the time Charlotte turned around, he had disappeared. “Wow,” she said searching the woods for any sign of him. “You weren’t kidding.”
“Nope.” Lucas’s smile faded as he beheld the glint in Charlotte’s eyes. She was still stewing over the prospect of being left alone later.
“Come on,” he said, starting back to the canoe. “Let’s go whip up an appetite. Then I’ll take you out to lunch.”
Chapter 11
The late-summer storm that had been building all day broke soon after they returned from eating pizza. As Lucas kicked off his shoes and sprawled face-first across the bed to take a nap, Charlotte turned the armchair toward the window and watched the storm wreak havoc.
Thunderstorms had always enthralled her. The treetops foamed beneath a powerful breeze. Lightning jagged from a leaden sky, and thunder rumbled, shaking the old house with its force. She caught herself thinking, God is awesome.
It had been years since she’d contemplated God, let alone talked to Him. Thanks to Lucas, she had a new perspective about what had happened to her parents. Maybe God hadn’t turned a deaf ear to their cries. Maybe He’d been with them in their final moments, comforting them, giving them a sense of peace.
Looking back out the window, she envisioned her parents in heaven. Lucas was certainly right about one thing—they were at peace, now. Nor had death obliterated them completely. She could still feel them, still remember the sound of their voices. Moreover, she was sure that, one day, she would see her parents again, face-to-face. So, despite having blamed God for her parents’ passing, she still believed in eternal life, still believed in Him.
She would be forever grateful to Lucas for pointing that out to her. She wasn’t as alone as she’d thought she was. Maybe she should start talking to God on a more regular basis.
Bit by bit, the storm outside subsided, drawing in its wake a steady downpour that dimpled the surface of the river and obscured the other side. Guessing that a cool front had moved in, Charlotte touched the windowpane and ascertained she was right.
Lucas’s chiming cell phone woke him up. With a sharp breath, he rolled over and reached for it. “It’s Saul,” he said, looking alert and refreshed as he texted back.
“Are you still planning to go with the weather like it is?” Charlotte asked him.
He lifted his gaze to look at her. “Yes,” he said with a hint of apology.
“It’s like twenty degrees colder,” she pointed out. “You could get hypothermia.”
His handsome mouth quirked. “SEALs are trained to withstand cold temperatures. We’ll be fine.”
“Did you bring a swimsuit?” she persisted.
“No. I’ll have to swim in these shorts.”
“I just wish there was something I could do,” she lamented.
“There is,” he assured her. “Stay put and stay safe. I don’t want to have to worry about you.”
She glanced outside where it wasn’t yet dark. “What do we do in the meantime? It’s only six o’clock.”
Their gazes collided, and the room seemed suddenly much smaller.
“Know any card games?” Relieving the tension, Lucas jumped from the bed and opened the drawer of the old-fashioned secretary, lifting out the deck he’d spotted earlier.
“Oh, you are going down,” Charlotte warned, warming to his idea. “Where can we play?”
There wasn’t any flat surface in the room besides the bed. They both looked at it, then looked at each other.
“Down here,” Charlotte decided, sliding off the chair onto the floor.
With a groan, Lucas lowered himself onto the rug facing her.
With the rain drops pattering the windowpanes and the sky darkening, they played Egyptian Rat Screw with the slap rule and Beggar my Neighbor, both of which got slightly out of hand. In spite of
a fair amount of friendly bickering, Charlotte won the majority of the games, proving her boast to be correct.
They ate the pizza left over from lunch, then Lucas packed his suitcase in the event they would be leaving that night. That depended, of course, on what they found.
If The Entity was, in fact, storing weapons in Sabena, they would take their photographic evidence straight back to Virginia Beach, delivering their proof to Fitz’s office in Norfolk first thing in the morning.
“You need to pack, too,” Lucas said to Charlotte.
“I will.”
Packing would take all of ten minutes. Then there’d be nothing to do but stand at the window, straining her eyes in the hopes of glimpsing the SEALs do their thing. Any stray noises coming from the hallway would make her think Jason and Laura Dunn had tracked her down and were coming to abduct her again.
“Here.” Lucas passed her his Glock. “Show me what you know.”
She proceeded to impress him by removing and engaging the magazine and aiming at a spot on the wallpaper while he gauged her accuracy by standing behind her.
All the while, she was conscious of his proximity, his familiar and comforting scent. The urge to turn around and kiss him made her bite down on her lower lip.
“What about the HK?” she asked. “I could use a lesson on that.”
“You’re not going to need it,” he assured her. Nonetheless, he snatched it up and taught her how it worked before transferring it to her grasp.
Charlotte raised the butt of the surprisingly lightweight submachine gun to her shoulder and sighted down the barrel. “Yeah, this thing freaks me out,” she admitted, handing it immediately back to him.
He put it by his bag and glanced at his watch. “Ten till,” he said, stripping off his short-sleeved polo.
Charlotte went lightheaded at the sight of Lucas’s bare chest. She’d honestly never seen anything quite so impressive, not even in underwear commercials. Defined muscles rippled under a smooth layer of almond-colored skin. He sported no chest hair, apart from a dusky line of soft-looking down that bisected his abdomen.
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