Waiting... On You (Force Recon Marines)

by S A Monk

  Nick was watching her, as he had been since they had set sail. Even behind her dark glasses, her emotions played visibly across her sun-kissed face. She was seldom able to hide her feelings from him. “Thinking about Dylan?”

  “Yes,” she admitted sadly. “And about Lance.”

  Tears clogged her voice, and he knew they must be shimmering in her eyes as well. “We’ll find him, Hanna.”

  “Oh, I hope so, Nick.” Turning toward the sea breeze, she let the wind dry her tear tracks. “Unfortunately nothing will bring back Dylan.”

  “Finding his killer and getting justice for his death will help a little bit.”

  This time her I hope so was a silent prayer.

  Shelter Island wasn’t large, just a long finger of land that ran east and west. Most of the shoreline was nothing more than piles of wave battered rocks and sharply defined cliffs rising out of the ocean. The colony of harbor seals that called the island home were perched on the rocks on the western end. Signs that declared the island as a wildlife preserve were posted on the grassy cliff tops. Nick steered the dingy towards the eastern end, and brought it ashore on a small strip of sandy beach.

  Hanna helped him pull it up far enough onto the beach so the tide wouldn’t take it back out. Then they unloaded their gear. It wasn’t much— a big blanket, a wicker picnic basket, and a canvas beach bag that Hanna slung over her shoulder. It clanked and rattled when she did so, and she wondered what Nick had put inside. Some of his high tech military toys, no doubt.

  At the foot of a steep sand dune that was covered with knee-high beach grass, sand-dwelling wildflowers, and driftwood, he took it from her and slung it over his own shoulder. They climbed to the top, and a blue heron with a six foot wingspan flew from the far side of the dune, close over their heads. Startled, Hanna cried out with surprise, then laughter. Black oystercatchers scurried back and forth on the beach behind them, and when she turned at their distinctive calls to one another, she caught a distant glimpse of Hurricane Ridge, rising in the distance, on the mainland. Its snow-capped peak was often shrouded in fog, but today, it was clearly and breathtakingly visible. Hanna had lived here all her life, but its natural beauty never failed to enchant her.

  At the top of the sand hill, they saw Yancy Master’s house in the distance. It had been built at the turn of the century by a wealthy shipping magnate. It was a Georgian style, two-story house, connected to a four-car garage by a long partially glassed conservatory. The estate stood in the middle of a couple acres of tall, wind-swept grasses that were dotted here and there with knobby Sitka spruce. A ten-foot-high, chain-link fence, topped with barbed wire, enclosed the house and grounds. Hanna thought it was probably electrified, too.

  On the down side of the dune, Nick and Hanna hiked up another beyond it that was capped by a stand of trees. Shaking their blanket out, Nick laid it down on the grass between the trees. Once he sat down, he reached into the beach bag Hanna placed next to him and pulled out a small scope. Next a directional mike came out, equipped with an earphone, which he wedged into one ear. Last, he pulled out a telephoto lens camera.

  Hanna sat down next to him and peeked into the bag. There was still a big black handgun inside and the wicked-looking knife he called his Ka-Bar. She turned her interest to the equipment he was tinkering with.

  “What is all that?”

  Nick motioned her closer. “Come here, and I’ll show you how to use these things. You’re going to have to help me anyway.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  He handed her the telescope. “Sweep the area and see what you can find that looks interesting, then we’ll take a few photos.”

  Nick rolled onto his stomach, and Hanna followed his example, resting her elbows on the blanket as she looked through the telescope. So close beside her his shoulder touched hers, Nick showed her how to adjust the scope. It was more powerful than anything she had ever used. “Wow! I think I can even see through the windows, into the house, with this.”

  “And with the directional mike, I can pick up noise and conversations at really long ranges, even behind most walls. I should be able to hear anyone at the house, at least if they’re on this side.”

  “And that gun in the bag?”

  “Strictly defensive. I doubt we’ll need it.”

  “The security patrol might spot us.” Hanna looked for them, but found no one.

  “We’re just tourists picnicking. We’re not even on their property.”

  Nick turned on his listening device and got down to business. Lying on their stomachs for a good half hour, braced on their elbows, side by side, they silently watched and listened. For Hanna, the only distraction was Nick himself. One warm, bare muscled arm was pressed along hers. He was so close, she could smell him, even hear him breathe. At one point, his hard hairy leg moved against hers and stayed there. Hanna’s pulse sped up and perspiration trickled between her breasts, in spite of the fact it wasn’t even remotely hot.

  Nick finally turned over and jack-knifed into a sitting position. He was reaching for the picnic basket when Hanna turned and sat up more slowly next to him. She stared at him quizzically, wondering if he had felt her pulse racing.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked her, reaching into the basket.

  “Sure,” she answered, trying valiantly not to let her voice tremble the way her hands were as she helped him unpack the wicker basket, then make up two paper plates of food.

  “What do you hope to discover here?” she asked as she got a hold of her emotions and took a bite of her sandwich.

  Nick handed her a cold can of soda. “I don’t know. But Yancy’s Bar and Grill didn’t buy this estate.”

  “How about his gambling winnings?”

  “That paid for his bar, according to the title company that handled the purchase. He paid cash— no loans.”

  “He may have had some left over.” She opened the bag of chips and popped one in her mouth.

  “Not according to his bank statements,” he said after a long swallow of his soda. “In fact, he struggled the first year he was open, to the point that he almost lost the bar. He had no financial cushion.”

  Hanna was amazed. “When and how did you find out all of this?”

  Nick wiggled his dark eyebrows as he took a big bite of his sandwich. “I’ve learned all sorts of tricks on the computer over the years.” He grabbed a handful of chips from the bag she passed him and placed them on his paper plate. “When I take on a mission, I learn all I can about every detail of it. I do as much of my own intel as possible. I spent last week working at home on the phone and the computer.”

  “Impressive.” She went into the wicker picnic basket for the zip locked bag of oatmeal and raisin cookies that she’d made last night, knowing they were Nick’s favorite.

  “I’m still working on getting more info on Yancy, the sheriff, and good old Phillip. In fact, you and I are going to take a trip to Seattle tomorrow to see Kurt. He should have his background checks done on the sheriff and the police chief by then, and I’d like him to run one on Yancy Masters. I also want to take those fishing rod tubes with us.”

  “Why? They were empty.”

  He took a big cookie from the bag she handed him. “I want Kurt to see them and have some residue tests run on them.”

  “Why?”

  “Damn, Hanna, these are good!” He took another cookie as soon as he finished the first.

  Hanna laughed, pleased. But she sensed he was evading her. “Not ready to tell me anything yet, huh?”

  “All I have are hunches right now. I need to put together a few more pieces before I speculate out loud on possible scenarios.”

  Hanna shook her head and laughed softly. “I had no idea you liked to put together puzzles so much.”

  He finished off yet another cookie, then crushed his empty soda can in his hand. “I don’t like to speculate until most of the clues point in a specific direction.” Together, they cleaned up, disposing of their garbage in a pla
stic sack.

  Hanna looked around to make sure everything was put away. “Now what?” she asked.

  Nick rolled back onto his stomach to resume his observation position. “Come lie down next to me and help me conduct surveillance, Mata Hari.”

  She crawled over to him and settled next to him on her stomach, the same as before. She’d worn cut-off jeans and a halter top today. The blanket was soft and fuzzy beneath her bare midriff and legs. Nick shifted closer until his big hard body was touching hers from shoulder to elbow and all along their mostly bare legs again. Hanna was pretty sure he was making the contact deliberately. The fact that he wanted to be touching her like that was fine with her, but it was no less disturbing than it had been before lunch. And every time he moved slightly, which seemed to be quite often, his hair-roughened skin rubbed deliciously along hers.

  Hanna had to force herself to concentrate on the task he’d given her, which was to sweep the area for activity, while he listened and took photos. She could only hope she was as distracting to him as he was to her, and yet, except for his restless shifting, he seemed to have no trouble concentrating on his own tasks.

  A quarter of an hour later, two men rounded the corner of the house. Finally, they had something to watch and listen to besides the birds. Within moments, two more came from the opposite direction and joined them. Nick was getting something because he was listening intently and frowning.

  She peered closely through her high-powered telescope, but she didn’t recognize any of the security guards. She did note, though, that they had handguns tucked into their belts and rifles slung over their shoulders. They weren’t in uniform, just street clothes. She wondered why Yancy Masters needed armed security. What were they guarding besides a house?

  When they disappeared behind the building again, she lowered her scope and rolled onto her back. The clouds above were finger wisps of white floating through the sunny blue sky. She drew in several deep calming breaths of the sea air. It settled her nerves. The prolonged close contact with Nick’s body had really rattled her.

  Nick listened a few moments longer, then cursed and jack-knifed into a sitting position beside her. Startled, Hanna sat up, too. He gathered up all his equipment and stuffed it hurriedly into her beach bag. Then, he yanked off his t-shirt and stuffed it in on top of everything.

  “What are you doing?”

  Without a word of explanation, he grabbed her by her bare shoulders and pressed her back down onto her back, locking her in place with a muscled thigh thrown over her legs. The hard planes of his naked chest pressed against her breasts as he claimed her mouth in an explosive kiss that came out of nowhere. Hard and urgent, it consumed her in a blaze of heat and passion that Hanna sensed went way beyond whatever he’d intended. His tongue plunged past her lips, into her mouth, sucking any thought of denial from her. Not that she wanted to deny him anything, especially since she was ecstatically drowning in in his muscled arms.

  Amid the fierce possession of his kiss, he reached behind her neck to untie the top knot of her halter-top. Hesitation reared inside her, finally. She grabbed air into her lungs as he shifted his mouth to the arched column of her neck. Then his weight shifted as he began to lick his way down to the damp valley between her breasts. Good heavens, what was this all about?

  A startled cry died in her throat when his hand rose to mold itself to one partially exposed breast. His long kneading fingers felt so wonderful, she heard herself utter a little groan of delight. His reply was a deep-throated growl and the movement of his other hand to the waistband of her jeans. The snap parted effortlessly, then the zipper. Hanna actually squeaked when his thumb settled over the silk-clad juncture between her legs. God, she was already wet for him! How revealing! She could feel the deep flush of heat that rose inside her and warmed every inch of her flesh.

  What had prompted all of this? He’d given her no real warning, except the way he’d crowded her on the blanket. In spite of her pleasure, she was feeling bewildered and unprepared. Nick never lost control like this, except once three years ago.

  She tried to wiggle out from under him, but he held her fast and lifted his head to look over the rise of the hill. It was then that she realized someone was coming up fast over the sand in a vehicle.

  “Easy,” Nick murmured. “They’re just going to catch a couple making out on a picnic blanket. Stay behind me.”

  So it had all had been for show! Her heart sank, even as her body was still tingling with desire.

  “Hey, you two!” a man shouted.

  Nick sat up and reached around to nudge her behind him. “Yeah? What do you want?”

  “This is private property.”

  “Doesn’t look like it to me,” he argued. “This island is a wildlife preserve, open to the public.”

  Two men got out of the dune buggy, both as armed as Hanna had seen them earlier, only now their rifles weren’t on their backs, but in their hands, pointed at the ground as they came toward them.

  Nick rose to his feet. Hanna followed, careful to stay behind him. She retied her halter-top while she peeked around Nick’s arm to look at the men approaching them. Her cut offs were still unzipped. Both men looked around Nick at her.

  She was thoroughly embarrassed. But as she hurriedly zipped up her jeans and snapped them together again, she realized Nick had meant her half-dressed state to be a distraction to the men he must have known were approaching. His lovemaking had all been a ploy to cover up what they had really been doing on top of this hill, so close to Yancy Master’s house.

  Nick reached down and handed the beach bag to her. She slipped it over her shoulder and protectively under her arm.

  “Go find another place to get laid, buddy!” one of the security men growled as he raised his rifle a notch.

  Nick reached down to grab the picnic basket and the blanket. “Okay! Okay! Don’t have a stroke over it! We’re leaving.” He took Hanna’s hand. “Come on, honey.”

  As they walked past the two men, Hanna felt their eyes on her, sliding over her lasciviously. She gripped Nick’s hand more tightly, and he moved her in front of him, so his back was to the men as they departed.

  They were followed down the hill and up over the next, all the way to the beach where they’d left their dingy. The two men stood nearby as Nick loaded it, helped Hanna in, and then pushed it into the surf. At the mast, Hanna raised the sails and watched the men get smaller and smaller behind her.

  As the wind caught and sent them toward home, Nick looked over at her. “I’m sorry about all that. I heard them spot us, and needed to make it look like we were only interested in a little privacy.” He saw her blush a deep pink. With balance and agility, he stood up and leaned over to give her a quick kiss. “Can I make it up to you by taking you out to dinner tonight?”

  “You don’t have to do that. I’m okay.” She couldn’t look him in the eye.

  “That was embarrassing for you, I know. But I couldn’t think of anything else to do except kiss you.”

  She was hurt and even more mortified. “I hope it wasn’t too unpleasant of a task.”

  From his seat near the rudder, he leaned forward and caught her hand. “There was nothing unpleasant about it, Hanna.”

  She saw the heat in his eyes and melted inside. Maybe he hadn’t kissed her as just a diversion. Maybe those men had simply been an excuse. Intrigued with that line of thought, she smiled shyly at him, then looked quickly away.

  CHAPTER 11

  “I CALLED ONE OF THE DEPUTIES I talked to last Friday night at the hospital. Remember the two who came in with the teenagers from the car accident?”

  Nick had insisted they go out to dinner. Hanna was seated across the table from him in a little Italian restaurant downtown. “Yes, I remember them.”

  “They talked to the boy, and he told them his girlfriend got the heroin from a guy at the high school who graduated a year ago. Apparently, the kids who take drugs, get everything from him. He calls himself the Candyman.”
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  Hanna shook her head in disgust. “How sick! Are they going to arrest him for murder?”

  “I wish it was that simple. They’re going to put a tail on him, maybe run a sting. They don’t want him as badly as his supplier.”

  “The boy didn’t know who that was?”

  “No, but he did say that heroin was not a drug that had been available until lately. Since this town has such an atrocious coroner, we probably won’t know if the heroin was bad, laced with something lethal, or the girl just took too much.”

  “How is it that it’s being investigated at all with Sheriff Thomas at the helm?”

  “Because the girl died. He can’t sweep that under the carpet.”

  “I’ll bet he doesn’t know his deputies are sharing information with you.”

  Nick laughed. “No, he doesn’t. They aren’t telling him much of anything.”

  While they ate, Nick told her what the deputies had told him about the drug problem they had in the community, and what they knew about Sheriff Jeff Thomas.

  Hanna stared at him through the flickering glow of the candle in the middle of the table. The restaurant was softly lit, quiet, and romantic. It was so nice to just sit and look at him, to absorb everything about him, his handsome features, his deep baritone voice, his efficient gestures.

  The last time they had been out to dinner together had been six years ago. He’d come home on leave. She’d had season tickets to the Seattle Symphony. She and Lance had planned to attend one of their performances, but since Nick was home, they asked him to go with them. Lance had found him a date for the evening— a woman he was doing some boat renovation for.

  It had been hard to watch Nick with another woman, not that she hadn’t all through high school. He’d been dressed in his olive green Marine dress uniform, and he had looked so impossibly handsome. She remembered spending the night wishing she was the woman on his arm.