Waiting... On You (Force Recon Marines)

by S A Monk

  Nick had thoroughly enjoyed the classical music performance, though, and as a result, Hanna had bought him several compact discs and a portable disc player for Christmas that year.

  “So do you think it will snow tomorrow?”

  Acknowledging her distraction, she laughed. “I’m sorry. I guess my mind was drifting.”

  “Where to?”

  “Actually, to you,” she admitted. “To the last time we went out to dinner together. We went to the Seattle Symphony, remember? I can’t recall the name of the woman Lance set you up with.”

  “Neither can I.” His eyes were intently fixed on her face.

  She looked down at her wine glass, unnerved by the sudden intensity in his gaze. “Do you still listen to classical music?”

  “I do. My collection isn’t bad. Mostly Mozart; my favorite. His music helps me unwind after a mission or focus before one.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really,” he chuckled. “But I get kidded a lot about it. Most of my teams are younger guys. They like rock and roll. They’re always hassling me about being old because I listen to classical music. Of course I do it on an IPod now.” He signaled for the waiter to send over the bill. “Do you still get season tickets to the Symphony?”

  “Yes, but just for myself. Lance isn’t a classical music lover, although he’ll go once in the while with me.”

  “San Diego has a good symphony.”

  “Do you ever go?”

  “When I’m stationed there. Like you, I go alone.”

  That pleased her immensely, but she wondered if he really did go alone.

  Outside the restaurant, Nick asked if she wanted to walk for a while. She nodded yes, and they headed down the street. The older downtown section of Port George was a throwback to the nineteenth century. Victorian buildings and globe lamps lined the street. Nearly every renovated shop, museum, art gallery, and restaurant had colorful, twinkling lights strewn over their doorways and around their windows, while all the lamp posts had large pots of flowers hanging from them. It was tourist season, so businesses stayed open later and the sidewalks were busy, filled with people strolling leisurely, looking in the windows, going inside to browse.

  As it got darker, it got cooler. Hanna had worn a mid-calf length, cotton chiffon skirt and a sleeveless, lace-embroidered camisole. The skirt and blouse were very flattering, very feminine, but she’d forgotten her sweater and she was trying to hide her shivers.

  Nick was wearing jeans and a meticulously ironed, long-sleeved, black shirt. He didn’t seem to notice the chill, but he did see Hanna try to cope with it.

  “Cold?”

  “A little.”

  “Sorry, I don’t have a jacket to offer you. How about an arm?” he inquired, slipping it around her shoulders. “Better?”

  She was tempted to answer “infinitely,” but simply nodded instead.

  At the end of the street, they walked onto the pier at Point Hudson Marina. People were settling inside of their boats for the night or sharing a drink on deck with friends. The low murmur of voices and laughter, combined with the twinkling lights from the boats made it a captivating scene. A block over, many of the waterfront taverns were beginning to fill up with patrons. Louder conversations blended with the sounds of live bands.

  After a while, Nick straightened away from the railing and turned to the woman beside him. “Want to go have a drink at Yancy’s?”

  “It’s not my favorite place. But I don’t imagine you’re going there to enjoy the upstanding company.”

  They started to walk back the way they had come. “I’d like to put a listening device in Yancy’s office.”

  “Don’t you have to get some kind of permission to do that?”

  “Usually.” Nick tucked her close to his side. “But I don’t have time to get the evidence I’d need to request a wiretap or bug. I’ve been home for nearly two weeks and haven’t been able to find out what I need to, so I’m going to speed things up.”

  “You think Yancy Masters has something to do with your brother’s disappearance?”

  His large hand rubbed her arm up and down gently, from elbow to shoulder. “I don’t know. But the man’s got something to hide. Who keeps armed guards posted around his house in a community like this?”

  “What would he want with Lance?”

  “I don’t know that, either. But Dylan was investigating something that must have turned out to be more threatening than poaching. Lance went to have a look, and disappeared in the same area. So I have to ask myself: Why would that happen, unless they both came across something they weren’t supposed to see? And who has something illegal going on in the community they want hidden? My bet is on the guys who have unexplainable, large amounts of money. Money and crime always go hand in hand. And I’ll bet my Harley that the sheriff and maybe our police chief are involved, or being paid to look the other way. Neither one of their bank accounts showed anything extraordinary, although Phillips has a damn nice house and a couple of fancy cars that don’t seem to fit what he makes as a Chief of Police. Both lawmen’s lack of concern for the rising drug problem here is disturbing, not to mention their lack of interest in investigating Dylan’s death and Lance’s disappearance.”

  Hanna stopped and turned to stare at him. “Do you think drugs may be involved in all this?”

  “Possibly, but it’s just speculation at this point. I need more information to be sure. And that’s what I intend to get over the next few days.”

  “Is Yancy your prime suspect?”

  “No. He just feels like a good place to start. I’ll be looking at others as I get more information.”

  “What can I do?” When they got to Lance’s parked Jeep, Hanna turned to fully face Nick. “I don’t feel I’ve been too much help.”

  Nick smiled down at her as he dug the keys out of his front jean pocket. “You’ve been a big help. Just keep working with me. We’ll find Lance together.”

  Eight blocks down, they parked the Jeep between Port George Boat Haven and the shipyards, where Kellys’ Boat and Salvage was located. From there, they walked the block and a half to Yancy’s Bar and Grill. Trucks, cars, and a half dozen Harley Davidson motorcycles were parked out front.

  “No wonder you like this place. You fit right in with all these Harley enthusiasts,” Hanna commented as they walked through the array of bikes. “Your hair is a little too short, though, and you don’t have any tattoos. Do you?”

  “No, I never got into that,” he laughed. “But hey, none of these guys has a Hog like mine, either. I ought to bring it down here. I’ll bet they’d all talk to me then.”

  “Men and their macho toys!” Hanna rolled her eyes as Nick reached around her and opened the door to the bar for her. “Don’t you get enough risk on the job?”

  “You sound like Mom now.”

  “She’s a smart woman.”

  The inside of Yancy’s was smoky and crowded. The dining room was empty, but the bar was definitely full. Hanna groaned as she looked around for an empty table or booth. She spotted one in a corner, relieved that they could sit out of the mainstream. Nick followed her to the booth and slipped in behind her on the bench seat. A young woman in tight leather pants and a tiny leather halter-top came over to take their order. Hanna wanted to order wine, but this was not a wine type of place, so she ordered a beer, along with Nick.

  “This is the last place I saw Lance,” she told Nick. “We came in here for dinner after work one night, almost a month ago. We talked about how we were going to discover the truth about my brother’s death. He told me he was going out the next day to dive Discovery Bay and talk to Nat Simms again.”

  The waitress came with two mugs of draft beer. Nick paid her and waited until she left to respond. “Was Yancy in here that day?”

  “Yes. He served us, talked to us, asked about you.” She took a sip of her beer. “He told me he was sorry about Dylan.”

  Nick looked around the room as he drank his beer. “Too ma
ny coincidences. And I have never believed in coincidences.”

  After a few minutes of visual surveillance, he asked her if she recognized any of the men in the bar. “You did say the guy who stopped to help you with your flat tire was a biker, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” She adjusted her glasses and looked around the room. “It was dark, though, and I was scared. All I was thinking about was knocking him over the head with my tire iron if he tried anything.” Nick grinned at her. “I don’t recognize anyone here tonight. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Just keep an eye out and let me know if you do.” He took another drink of his beer, then set it aside. “Do you want to dance?”

  She gave him a startled look. He laughed, rose to his feet, and reached for her hand. At the jukebox, he put in a few quarters and made his selection.

  To Hanna’s surprised delight, it was the Righteous Brothers’ Unchained Melody; one of her favorites. She and Nick had shared their first slow dance at the senior prom to the soulful song.

  Apparently, Nick recalled that memory, as well. “We’ve danced to this before, remember?”

  He took her in his arms, and she murmured a barely audible ‘yes.’

  For the first few moments, Hanna listened to the words of the music, struck by the phrases. They seemed to fit her feelings so well. She certainly had hungered for Nick’s touch a long lonely time. And oh, how she had waited for him! Twenty years had gone by very slowly indeed.

  It was absolute heaven to be in his arms, dancing to such a romantic melody. She snuggled as close as she could get to his big body. The top of her head normally came up under his jaw, but with heels on, she was closer to his face— her head resting against his shaven cheek.

  He had one hand on her shoulder. The other held hers, tucked between them, just underneath her breasts. Slowly, the hand on her shoulder slid to the back of her neck to massage the tendons there before it moved into her hair, his fingers splaying wide to hold her head against his.

  Lord have mercy on her! There wasn’t any place she’d rather be than in Nick Kelly’s arms. He was so warm, so solid, and so big. All her senses were attuned to his wonderful masculine scent, his shifting muscles, his long legs brushing hers, his hand caressing the nape of her neck.

  Eventually, it slid down her spine, very slowly, pressing her closer still. At the waistband of her skirt, it stalled, then by degrees, reversed its course and inched up under her lacy camisole to climb slowly back up her spine. His fingertips stopped just below her bra.

  Hanna could feel his heartbeat. It was tapping out a strong, quick tempo. In step to the slow, sensuous music, he wedged a knee between her legs and the loose folds of her long skirt. The momentary pressure of his hard thigh against her pelvis made her throb. It also allowed her to feel his arousal.

  Shivers of pleasure skittered across her flesh. Thinking she was chilled, Nick tightened his embrace. Hanna melted against him, wanting to crawl into his skin. She also wanted another kiss, another taste of him, a long, deep, slow taste; an uninterrupted taste. It seemed the more he kissed her, the more she wanted him to do it again.

  He nuzzled her ear, his breath hot against her skin. Dispensing with the traditional dance position, he slid both arms around her and fit his hands to the curve of her hips. Her own rose to twine around his neck. Their new position arched her against him, pressing her lower body intimately to his. His arousal was much more noticeable than before, pressed against the lower half of her abdomen.

  They were simply swaying to the throbbing music now, barely moving their feet, their lower bodies rubbing up against one another’s. Hanna was immensely thankful the dance floor was cast in such deep shadows. The room began to spin for her. She pressed her forehead to Nick’s shoulder and leaned against his big body for balance. With a single fingertip, Nick lifted her face to his. The unmistakable desire she saw there startled her, but it also pleased her immensely. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips to hers.

  “Hey, buddy, mind if I cut in?”

  Hanna’s head snapped up. The man who spoke was big and burly, covered in leather and tattoos.

  “Hell, yes,” Nick growled over one shoulder. “Get lost.”

  When the intruder failed to step away, Nick swiveled to face him. Hanna stepped behind him. There was no way she going to dance with the Neanderthal confronting Nick.

  “How about it, sweet thing?” The man grinned at her. “Want me to show you how a real man dances?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Does it look like the lady needs anyone to dance with her?” Nick shot back. “She’s with me.”

  He turned to take her back to their table when the man put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Nick spun around more fiercely this time, and Hanna groaned. She hated fights. She looked around for Yancy. He had spotted the trouble and was on his way.

  “Hey, Piper, leave this couple alone!” Yancy snapped. “They’re friends of mine. You’ve had too much to drink anyway. Go home to your old lady.”

  “You kicking me out?” the biker challenged.

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m doing.”

  The biker named Piper stared at Yancy for a long moment, then finally shrugged and walked away. Hanna breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Thanks Yancy.”

  “No problem. The next round is on me.” With that, he motioned to his waitress.

  The woman came up to their table a few moments later with two more beers. Hanna held up her hand to prevent the woman from putting them on the table. “Could you bring us a couple of sodas instead?”

  When the woman left to change her order, Nick turned to Hanna. “Do you think you could get Yancy over here and keep him busy for ten minutes?”

  “Sure, but is that long enough to do what you’re going to do?”

  “Can you keep him talking for fifteen?”

  Hanna grinned. “Oh yeah. I’m a doctor, and people just love to talk about their aliments with me. Yancy loves to tell me all about his arthritis. I’ll just give him a little free consultation.”

  Nick’s smile broadened. “You make a good partner.” He stood up. “Tell Yancy I went to the bathroom or something. See you in fifteen.”

  “Be careful.”

  “Always.”

  His smile disappeared with him, and Hanna immediately missed it. When the waitress returned, she asked her if she’d send Yancy over.

  He came over quickly, and sent her an anxious look. “How are you doing, Doc? Hope Piper didn’t upset you too much. He had a fight with his old lady and has been drinking his sorrows away all night.”

  Hanna shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. No harm done, thanks to your vigilant intervention.” She motioned to the seat on the other side of the table. “Sit and talk awhile. You look like you could use a break.” When he grinned at the invitation and took her up on it, she asked, “So how’s your arthritis?”

  “Not too bad with all this warm dry weather, but my stomach sure has been giving me problems lately?”

  “Really? What kind of trouble?” Hanna smiled. This would keep him busy talking for fifteen minutes or more. Sure enough, fifteen minutes passed by and Yancy was still telling her all about his latest aliment. He had never even asked where Nick went. When Nick did return, though, he stopped talking about his stomach and asked Nick about his promotion and his next assignment, then about how things were going in Afghanistan. Finally, he asked if he’d heard anything from Lance.

  “Not a word.”

  “How’s your mother holding up?”

  Yancy seemed truly concerned, so much so that Hanna wondered if he really knew anything about Lance’s disappearance.

  “She’s not taking it well. Neither is his little boy. You know Christopher, don’t you? He’s handicapped.”

  “Yeah, I’ve met him. Cute little guy. I know Lance dotes on him. Damn, I sure hope he comes home soon. Do you think he could have drowned and his body just hasn’t washed ashore yet?”

  Hanna put her
hand to her mouth to quiet her gasp at Yancy’s bluntness.

  “Then why would his boat have disappeared?” Nick wondered.

  “A rubber boat isn’t as sturdy as a fiberglass or wooden one. It could have hit some rocks and sunk.” Hanna glanced at Nick, but he was staring intently at Yancy, who seemed to have had enough of this line of conversation. “Well, I gotta get back to work, folks. Enjoy the rest of the night. I’ll make sure you don’t have any more trouble.”

  Nick nodded, and Hanna pushed her hair behind her ear. When the bar owner was out of hearing range, she said, “How did he know that Lance’s boat was rubber? To my knowledge, no one’s mentioned that fact.”

  “How indeed,” Nick commented. “Interesting slip.”

  “Do you think he had anything to do with Lance’s disappearance? He mentioned drowning. Do you think he knows Lance drowned?”

  Nick heard the fear and desperation in her voice. “It’s too early to know anything, Hanna. Don’t lose hope. We still have no idea what happened to Lance.”

  A wave of sadness swept over her. It was awful to realize that fact was still true after four weeks. “Did you complete your task successfully?”

  “I sure did, without a hitch.” He stood up and reached for her hand. “Let’s go home. We need to get an early start tomorrow if we’re going to Seattle to see Kurt.”

  It was just past eleven o’clock by the time they pulled up in front of her grandmother’s house. Hanna asked Nick if he wanted to come in for coffee or tea.

  “No, not tonight,” he politely refused as he walked her up the steps to the front door. “Thanks for the help tonight, Hanna. You did a good job with Yancy.”

  “It was a nice evening, Nick.” She glanced up at him, then lowered her head. She’d known this man since she was six, but he could still make her nervous and tongue-tied.

  Nick chuckled. She always ducked her head like that when she was feeling unsettled. It was an endearing trait, a familiar one. “Hanna, do I make you uneasy?”