by Angi Morgan
However the Rangers wanted to refer to it didn’t matter. She couldn’t bear to think Victor was actually guilty. Judging him wasn’t her job. Pleading for his innocence and being his sister was.
“That’s why we need to get in there and find out what’s going on, sir.” Slate finished a very well-presented summary of their last week.
“Wade’s behind this. He asked you to look into another one of his hunches,” Major Clements muttered, but he didn’t demand an answer.
Would the man in charge call it quits if Slate admitted that Wade was behind reopening the case?
“As I said, sir, I began looking into this on my own time. I met Vivian when I had lunch at the restaurant where she worked. After we were attacked a second time, I asked Jack and Heath for help to look at the situation more closely. That’s when we discovered how many veterans had been affected.”
Facts. He stated facts without involving Wade.
“You brought it to me.” The commander leaned back in his chair, contemplating. “You know my hands are tied on this. I have to turn your findings over to the inspector general of the VA.”
“We assumed that but were hoping—”
“What? That I’d convince the OIG to let you interview their doctors and patients? That’s not the way things are done in government, especially at the VA.”
Slate nodded but stood straight. No hand gestures, no fidgeting. And no looking around the room at her or his friends.
Vivian stood perfectly still, too. Trying not to draw attention to herself was getting harder and harder. Her lip was raw from biting down on it. What would she do if the major decided against fighting for her brother? Shout? Scream out? Cry?
Do it herself? Alone?
She would if she only knew where to begin. In fact, she would have already. Slate’s comment at lunch about how far they’d come in the past couple of days was right. She’d been floundering on her own for months. Two days working with him and his friends, and they might actually get her brother freed.
It all depended on the man behind the desk. The man these rangers—standing around her, who had helped her—respected and trusted.
Major Clements rubbed his chin with his thumb and finger. “I respect you, Thompson. I’m going to make a couple of calls. No promises. And don’t think this debate about how you came across this case is finished.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Jack and Heath turned, pulled the office door open and both put a hand on her back for her to go in front of them. She walked through with no idea where to go until she caught Wade’s small hand wave in what appeared to be a break room.
“How did it go?” Wade asked under his breath, bringing his head close to hers.
“The major’s at least making the call to the VA. That’s hopeful.” She kept her voice down, too.
“Sorry.”
At first, Vivian didn’t completely understand why Wade would be sorry. Then she caught a glance of Slate’s expression. His eyes were drawn together, his brow wrinkled and strained, his lips pressed flat together...
Jealousy?
Wade winked at her and moved to the soda machine. Slate kept staring at him. And yes, it seemed like he was giving him the back-off evil eye. She’d seen the possessive look once or twice in her life. Just not recently.
It was a nice feeling and caused her to smile. She needed to be reminded that life went on, even if hers had practically stopped for the past year. She and Victor would come out of this ready to move forward. She’d be there for him this time.
She wouldn’t let anything come between a new relationship with her brother. Sadly, that included Slate. He had a younger sister. He’d understand why Victor would come first in her life.
Wade, Heath and Jack all had assignments they needed to work. Slate was officially on paid leave. Vivian fiddled with her visitor badge while Slate looked at his phone.
“Mom and Dad checked in to their hotel.”
“Glad they made it okay.”
Vivian wanted to talk about the plan to help the VA’s office find out what was happening within the study. Or talk about the look Slate had given Wade. Instead, she got into her head, thinking what would happen if she didn’t free Victor.
“Do you think you should interview Victor?” she asked. “He might have some important information.”
“Heath went to interview him yesterday. As the arresting officer, he set it up with that scumbag lawyer.”
Slate was right about Ned Stevens, and after her brother was released, she’d file a complaint with someone...somewhere. After. Everything was about after.
“Thank you. No matter what happens. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“Except the almost-getting-you-killed parts.” He swiped a hand across his face, covering his eyes from her.
“No.” She touched his hand, looking at him so he knew she meant it. “Those incidents made me remember where I’m from and where I’ve been.”
“Which is where? You’ve met my parents and seen not only baby pictures but also goofy teen pictures when I was sweating in marching band. You practically know my life story.”
“You know about the whole foster situation and I can’t tell you it was all grand. Being separated from my brother was a relief at first. I mean, I was only sixteen and he was eleven—completely my responsibility. I wanted to hate them for separating us, but couldn’t. But then I was crazy guilty. The only reason I joined the military was for the training and college opportunities. I couldn’t take care of Victor without a way to provide for us both.”
Their hands were still connected. He turned his palm up and laced his fingers through hers. It was comforting while they waited and got to know each other a little.
“I get the guilt. My story’s different, but I’m not taking over my parents’ dream. That’s a lot of to be responsible for. Back to your story.”
“Right. I stood in your living room more embarrassed than helpless. I served four years in the army. Basic was hard, but it toughened me up. I can fight, Slate. I won’t be huddled in the corner next time.”
He smiled and nodded as if he were wondering whether to believe her or not. This wasn’t the time or place, but she’d like to get him on a workout mat. She could show him a move or two.
It was close to five o’clock when Major Clements gathered them back in his office. Once again, she stood near the door in the background, hoping no one would object to her involvement.
“It’s a go. We’ve just got one hitch.” The major looked at each of the men. “You need to find someone who’s a veteran. We don’t have time to go through all the channels to set up a fake history.”
“What about James Diaz? Didn’t he serve in the military?”
“I think Taylor White was in the National Guard.”
“I can do it,” Vivian volunteered quietly. She wasn’t supposed to speak out. Doing so drew everyone’s attention to her. “I served in the army.”
“No way. The person behind this will know you on sight. What if you get programmed to shoot yourself?” Slate’s attitude was full of emotion. He’d controlled himself throughout the day and especially the afternoon. His reaction was unexpected.
“You’ll be with me to keep anything bad from happening. I’m the logical person, I know what to look for. And if it makes the person harming everyone run, then you’ll all be there to catch them.”
“No one has more at risk than her. And she’s right. She does have us to look out for her.” Jack spoke to the major, pointedly ignoring Slate’s outburst.
“Doesn’t it defeat the purpose of being undercover if the person we’re after knows her?” Slate tried again.
“We’re out of time, man.” Heath looked at his partner and then at his commanding officer. “Sir, she does have military background. It’s not the same as sending in an untr
ained civilian.”
Major Clements had crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her while the men argued. It was his decision and his eyes locked with hers.
“Will it work?” she asked him.
“There are risks. You aren’t law enforcement. Where did you serve?”
“Afghanistan for eight months and no, it wasn’t in the typing pool.” Everyone except Slate laughed. “I know my way around a weapon, but I won’t need one in the hospital. I can do whatever’s necessary. It’s for my brother.”
“Get it set up.”
“But, sir, this—”
“You may not like it, Thompson, but you need to make it happen and be thorough.”
“I’d like permission to accompany Miss Watts. I can go in as her fiancé or husband. If the person behind this knows who she is, it won’t matter if he sees me with her.”
“You’re right. As soon as he recognizes Miss Watts, he’ll know why you’re there. But being known as her husband would keep you close to observe not only her reactions, but the reactions of the staff.” The major clapped his hand on Slate’s shoulder.
“It’s quicker to get you the necessary documents fixed up so you look like newlyweds than military records.” Heath picked up his phone and made a call. “I suggest we give you a head injury, Vivian, and say you’re having trouble sleeping.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Slate tried again. “Give us an hour and we can find a ranger who is also a veteran.”
“It’s okay, Slate. I told you, I can handle it.”
“Will you keep looking for someone more qualified?” he asked Jack, who just shook his head. “She hasn’t exactly shown all this skill she claims to have.”
“This is the best way, Slate. Posing as her husband, you can be there with her for every diagnosis and plan of action. There’s no way we could set up that kind of scenario if it was Taylor White.” Heath was still on the phone but slapped Slate on the back. “You know this, man.”
“I might know it, but I don’t have to like it.”
Vivian stood next to Slate’s desk. She’d intended to fill Wade in, but Slate’s reaction had her confused. But she wouldn’t let wondering about his intentions mess up how excited she was to finally participate in helping her brother.
“So...you want to marry me?” she whispered, gently sending an elbow into Slate’s ribs.
“You might say that. But first we’re hitting the gym.”
Was he worried that she’d mess things up or worried that something might happen to her? Another crazy impression, but she got the feeling it was the latter.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“This isn’t exactly how I envisioned our first date.” Slate looked up from the floor mat into a pair of steel-gray eyes. “Can you change the color by changing your mood?”
“No. My eyes do whatever they want.” Vivian laughed and extended a hand to help him to his feet. “How much longer do I have to show you that I’m capable of defending myself?”
“I believed you the first time my back hit this mat.” He popped to his feet a little slower but ready to go again. “Nothing wrong with a little practice.”
“Okay, but there’s also a thing about rubbery arms if something happens for real.”
Each strike he threw, she blocked correctly. The kick he sent her way, she dodged predictably. It was later in the day. No one was in the gym except them. No one would interrupt.
Slate needed to catch her off guard. See what she would do in an impossible situation. He pulled her to him, dropping his guard with his arms circling her waist. He latched his thumbs through her belt loops, trapping her arms at her sides. She tried to break free. This time, he didn’t want her to get away.
“No fair.”
“Get free.” He tried to keep the smile off his face and laughter from his voice.
“Slate, attackers aren’t going to hug me.”
“Get free or say uncle.”
“Um... I don’t say uncle.” She twisted.
He kept her next to his chest.
She raised a knee. He blocked with his hip but still kept his grip. She pulled, twisted, jerked and moved in ways that were a complete turn-on...but she still didn’t get free.
Vivian brushed the back of her hand across his groin. He was expecting a reluctant word of surrender or apology when she tilted her face toward his and kissed him.
Thoroughly.
And again. Their mouths slashed, transferring the sparring energy from their bodies to their lips. Nothing but explosive energy between them existed. If his thumbs hadn’t been hooked in her belt loops, he might have stood a chance. But this way? He couldn’t untangle himself before she was paying him back for his torture of her the night before.
Exquisite torture he not only wanted, but craved.
Time and place didn’t matter much when it came to male body parts. Tight blue jeans might have helped him from immediately expanding, but the loose workout sweats gave him room to grow.
Damn it.
Stopping her was what he should do. Okay, so he didn’t really want to stop her, but this wasn’t what he had in mind. Vivian’s fingers skimmed over his collarbone. Then her fingernail scraped the outline of his earlobe.
When had her arms become free?
Vivian leaned into him, bringing her full body in contact with his. She turned her hip past the drawstring dangling from his pants. Full-blown erection. He had to keep her close in case someone walked in.
It didn’t help his erection any that he’d wanted Vivian since the moment he’d seen her in the chicken wing uniform.
Remembering how she’d reacted to his touches didn’t help his body respond any less either. He wanted to throw her to the mat and encourage those reactions again.
Their eyes met and he saw her smile—a smile of determination. No matter what she might say, she’d done that on purpose. But there were cameras.
“Uncle,” he whispered. “The owners can see us.”
They broke apart—too soon in his humble opinion—both still breathing rapidly.
He kept his mouth close to hers as he said, “I have to admit that was an unusual solution to your problem. No one I know would have approached it that way.”
“And not a move that would work on everyone. Honestly, I don’t know how that happened. I was thinking a head butt and the next thing I knew, I was leaning another direction.” She ran her fingernails up and down his back.
He freed his thumbs and circled her slender waist with his fingers. She was free, but didn’t move away.
“The head butt would have worked and was sort of what I was prepared for.” He brushed her lips one last time, putting space between their bodies. “This was much more pleasant.”
“I guess we should get cleaned up and head to the hospital. We don’t have time for anything else. Right?”
“Time? Yes. Should we? No.”
“Oh.” She backed away with a disappointed look and he had to catch her hand, circling her back to him.
“Will it happen? Yes, absolutely, don’t doubt it.” He kissed her long and sumptuously, putting more of himself into the effort than he had for anyone. “That’s a promise, ma’am. And I don’t break my promises.”
“Good to know, ranger.”
* * *
SLATE DIDN’T THINK this operation would go south. He knew it would. They weren’t prepared. They weren’t in control. And he was crazy about the woman sitting next to him. As in, so major crazy it would cause problems if she were in danger.
He couldn’t think straight and they hadn’t done anything except fill out some papers for the hospital.
Jack and Heath waited in their vehicle a couple of blocks away. Wade was still at Company B headquarters. Their plan of action was to go through the emergency room and get most of the preliminary ex
ams out of the way throughout the night.
Vivian had to be admitted the good old-fashioned way before their OIG contact could put her to the head of the line for the head-injury-specific tests. Tests that should be similar to those needed in the sleep study. Their contact would also make certain that the doctors performing those tests or exams were the same.
“I feel guilty taking time away from these men and women who need the care like my brother.” Vivian was doing a great job acting nervous...or maybe she just wasn’t pretending to be calm.
“What about the men and women who are a part of the study and not able to function in normal life? Just think about the three men who committed suicide and the many other innocent victims.”
“Done. We’re here for a purpose.” She looked around the room. “Greater than my brother now.”
“Damn straight.”
They waited several hours before the basic tests began. After being up all night, it wasn’t hard to look tired or be discouraged that they weren’t going home. Nine o’clock rolled around and they’d been in the hospital ten hours, seeing doctors for four of them.
No one could find anything wrong with Vivian. Of course, there wasn’t anything wrong.
“How ya doing?” Wade asked during a phone call for an update.
“They’re still digging around for answers,” Slate said from the waiting room.
“Well, the people working on Vivian’s case should be getting a couple of urgent care requests fairly soon.”
They disconnected. Vivian was resting her head on his shoulder, so he kept the phone in his hand. Someone with a clipboard walked by, pointed to his phone and shook their head. This was one rule he’d be breaking. They’d given Jack’s phone to Vivian in case they got separated.
God, he hoped this plan worked. Would they really be able to spook whoever was brainwashing patients? Hopefully spook them into running instead of doing something to Vivian.