Shooting the SEAL (Saving the SEALs Series Book 1) Page 13

  Anna perched on the edge of Beverly’s desk. “Did IT get anything out of Coran’s computer?”

  Leaning close, Beverly glanced around, and then said, “From what I hear, IT couldn’t even find Coran’s computer. It wasn’t in his office—and no one can find any backups.”

  Anna nodded. “No wonder everyone’s a little nuts.”

  “Yeah, and looks like I can’t help you here. N.T. Smalls has a general delivery box, and that’s all I’ve got.”

  Leaning over Beverly’s shoulder, Anna scanned the records, looking for what Beverly did have. “Not even a Social Security number? I mean, I could at least look her up that way.”

  “Nope—it’s blacked out for me. I don’t have security to see it, thank you, Mr. Williams. I swear IT is going to have to go through and undo all the passwords and access, but they’re dragging their heels on it. They don’t want to have Coran show up and fire all their butts for poking into his files.”

  Standing, Anna squeezed Beverly’s shoulder. “Thanks for trying. I owe you lunch.”

  Beverly gave her a smile. “Great—there’s a new deli I want to try.”

  With a wave, Anna headed over to HR. There had to be a way to access that information—and she was betting HR might have access.

  She knocked on Julie Ferguson’s door, got a smile from Julie, and had the same thought she always did when she saw Julie—the woman was wasting her cheekbones sitting behind a desk.

  Mocha skin, high cheekbones and startling green eyes would have put Julie on top in the modeling world. She had a slim figure, long legs and hands, and Anna itched for her Hasselblad—she’d love to get some photos of Julie.

  Julie, however, smoothed her suit, stood, shook hands and got straight to business. “We want to confirm you’ve recovered. And this is a release form, stating you’re fine and you have no intention of filing for disability.”

  Glancing at the forms, Anna lifted her eyebrows, but she started to sign. “Is everyone okay?”

  Julie folded her hands on her desk. “Mostly. Marcella’s the only one not coming back this week.” Julie’s mouth tightened. “I’m sending her paperwork over to her today by messenger.”

  “And if she doesn’t sign—no more spa days?” Anna asked, glancing up from her own release forms.

  Julie simply smiled. Anna bent over her papers again. “What about our authors? Any of them nervous or thinking of bailing with Coran still absent?”

  She looked up. Julie’s glance slid to her computer and back. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

  Nodding, Anna knew she had to get a look at Julie’s computer. She gave a small cough, then a larger one, started fanning her face, and in a hoarse, choking voice asked, “Water?”

  Startled, Julie stood. “Sit tight.” She left the office and Anna leaned over and hit a key. The computer woke and the screen brightened. Anna pulled out her phone, snapped a photo of the information. She’d figure out later what she had. Hearing steps, she started coughing again, bumped her papers so they fell off the desk.

  Julie handed her the water, and Anna sipped, cleared her throat and managed to spread her paperwork over Julie’s desk, knocking the keyboard. “I’m sorry. I’ve had this cough for days. Now I’ve made a mess—but I think I signed everything.”

  “Why don’t you plan to take a few more days off?”

  “Oh, I’ll be fine. Really. And there’s so much to catch up on.”

  Paperwork in hand, Julie smiled. “No, really. Don’t worry if you need some time off. I heard about the break-in at your new place. You just let us know what you need.”

  Smiling, Anna nodded, stood, and headed for the elevators. She had one more stop before Gage arrived.

  Heading to the top floor, she was surprised to see that much of Coran’s office had been returned to normal. The files that had been thrown around were now tucked away in banker’s boxes. The debris had been cleared away, and workmen were putting the place back together. She glanced around. If Coran had a safe here, it would have been found—he had to have backups of his files somewhere, but it wouldn’t be here.

  Giving the workmen a smile and nod, she headed back downstairs, and glanced at her watch. Gage was now twenty minutes late—she was pretty sure Gage was never late to anything. She made it back to her cubicle, grabbed her purse and headed for the lobby. She found Gage stuck at security.

  Gage was arguing with them—and he looked about thirty seconds away from throwing a punch. She walked up to him. “Gage, there you are. You’re late. Thanks, Joe. I’ll take this.” She linked her arm in his. “Come on. I’m taking an early lunch today.”

  Throwing a last narrow-eyed glance at the guards, Gage told her, “We’re going to need your camera.”

  Chapter 19

  Twenty minutes later, Gage had Anna in his car, her purse beside her, her camera bag on her lap and her mouth pressed into a line. He kept his mouth shut, too. He was waiting for Anna to give him a sign, but she wasn’t talking. He glanced at his watch. The idiot security at Anna’s office had put him behind. He didn’t have time to drop her off and make the meet, so he was hoping she’d be great cover. He glanced at her. She sat prim in her seat, clutching her camera bag like it was her last lifeline.

  Say something, idiot. But he didn’t trust himself to open his mouth.

  He worked his jaw and finally loosened his tongue. “We’re headed to the meet with Commander Brighton.”

  She glanced at him, parted her lips to say something—which only made him want to kiss her—and shook her head.

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he told her. “I’m not sure I trust myself to keep you safe. I just want you safe.”

  “And what about what I want?” She sounded more tired than angry, and Gage was going to hope that was a good sign. But he didn’t know what to answer. What she wanted mattered—but not if it compromised her security.

  D.C. at least had plenty of public space—the question was whether to go for crowds which made it harder to be spotted, or spot someone following, or to choose open space where everyone stood out. They’d opted for something in between.

  With over four hundred acres and ten miles of roads, the National Arboretum offered space and high ground, the highest ground in D.C., which had once been marshland. Gage took the long way around, heading up 295 and then coming back on 50. He parked, paid for admission and took Anna’s hand. “Get out your camera. We’re tourists.”

  He let Anna snap a few shots, and slowly led her towards the Capital Columns. The place looked like some kind of Greek ruin—just columns, no roof, no building to hold up. A shallow pool reflected back the twenty-two Corinthian columns. The columns had originally held up the east portico of the Capitol Building—then the dome went up and everyone realized the sandstone wouldn’t hold up under the weight of that iron structure. So they’d been moved, and had been put down in twenty acres of open land known as the Ellipse Meadow. The government didn’t like waste.

  Gage glanced around. He couldn’t see Scotty or Spencer, but he knew they had to be here, covering the spot. Scotty preferred a custom .300 bolt-action Winchester, but Spencer stuck with his issued MK-11. They’d come early to secure the spot—nothing from them meant everything was looking good. They also had two escape vehicles ready. Gage spotted Kyle walking around with sunglasses on and a guide book in hand. Anna’s camera kept clicking. Gage glanced around again. The sky was blue with a few clouds, but a sharp wind off the Atlantic was keeping the crowds to more indoor tourist spots. He couldn’t help but tense at every footstep—even a kid running around the columns and laughing had him turning fast.

  “Is that him?” Anna asked. She’d lifted her camera and was looking through it. Gage followed her shot. A man in his late fifties, in loafers, khaki shorts, and a polo shirt stood between the center columns at the bottom of the steps that led down to the reflecting pool, hands tucked into his pockets. A baseball hat was pulled low over his eyes, the Yankee’s logo standing out in bright y
ellow. He held a bag of what looked like bread on one hand, and seemed to be feeding the ducks gathering around him.

  Gage wandered toward the spot, stopped and said, his voice low, “Commander, it’s good to see you, sir. This is Anna Middleton.”

  Brighton glanced at Anna. “Get any good shots?”

  She smiled and aimed her camera at the reflecting pool and the ducks. “Beautiful spot like this, how could I miss?”

  Brighton kept his gaze on the ducks. “I’ve got lunch at two, so better make this fast.”

  Gage did. He kept to the facts. The commander listened, and at the end of it asked, “So, Becks is alive? You actually saw him? The man was labeled a firebug. I met him once. He always had some sort of lighter on him and was constantly playing with the flame. It’s ironic that he ended up burned—at the time, made me wonder if he caused the fire playing with chemicals. As for Coran Williams, he was a private defense contractor for more years than I can count. Successful. Next thing, he’s doing something entirely different. I always thought it was damned fishy. But this doesn’t sound like you have enough evidence to take anywhere.”

  “We have the files,” Anna said. She lowered her camera.

  Gage glanced at her. “Files?”

  Pulling something from her purse, she slapped it into Gage’s palm. “N.T. Smalls didn’t give Coran just one book file. I found another on Linda’s hard drive.”

  The commander glanced at her. “Just how did you get dragged into this Ms Middleton—and by the way, are you related to Eloise Middleton?”

  “My mother. And I wasn’t dragged—well, I was, but it was by a fake cop who kidnapped me.”

  Gage filled the commander in on how the fake cops who’d been at Anna’s apartment seemed to be military. Brighton’s frown deepened. “You hang onto that evidence, Lieutenant. If you’re seeing Navy personnel—and I don’t care if they’re ex or not—involved then I can’t guarantee the security of my office.”

  He glanced around. “That damned investigation team is howling for blood right now. I’ll do what I can on my end, but I need evidence—hard facts that will hold up to scrutiny. And I think it’s best if you keep working on this from the outside.” He glanced from Anna to Gage and back again. “Good luck getting some nice shots. And both of you, stay paranoid. It’s not really clear if Becks is working with Williams, or if he’s holding Williams, but either way, a man with that much money is a dangerous person.”

  With a smile, the commander tossed the last of the bread at the ducks, wadded up the plastic bag and walked off. Gage put his hand on the small of Anna’s back and led her back up the steps.

  Anna glanced up at him. “Where now?”

  “We meet up with the others.”

  She glanced behind them and back to Gage. “And then what?”

  He shrugged. “Think I’ve got a plan here? Come on—lunch sounds pretty good right now.”

  ***

  They headed back into D.C., and to Ben’s Chili Bowl—a place that looked more like a dive to her than anything with gaudy red and white stripes and more yellow and red over the front window.

  Of course, she’d heard of the place. It was an institution by now, dating back to the late 50s, and the building went back even further to the early 1900s. Harry Beckley, one of the first Black police detectives had converted a silent movie house into a pool hall, and then it had become Ben’s. Eloise had never allowed her daughters into such a low-brow eating establishment.

  “Best hotdogs in town,” Gage told her, holding open the door for her. She stepped inside and was hit with the smell of onions and spices. Gage ordered the half-smoked beef and pork, with mustard, onions, and the homemade chili. Anna decided to go for the rice bowl. Gage stared at her. “Seriously?” She gave into that stare and added an all-beef dog.

  They headed to the back, found Spencer, Scotty and Kyle already waiting for them, the wreckage of their lunch a pile of paper and napkins. Anna slipped into the chair next to Kyle and Gage snagged a chair from a table where the customers were just leaving. The place was all hard surfaces and noise, but Anna had to admit Gage was right—the hotdog was heaven. Spicy, moist and just enough kick to get her attention.

  As she ate, Gage filled the others in on his conversation with the commander. He glanced around the table. “Ideas for what we do next?”

  Anna finished off the dog, and remembered the photo on her phone. She wiped her fingers on a napkin and pulled out her phone. “This might help. It’s blurry, sorry about that, but I didn’t have much time to get a good shot of HR’s computer screen—and it’s also the only address I’ve seen for N.T. Smalls, other than general delivery.”

  Gage took her phone. “It’s a lead at least.” He glanced around the table. “We should split up for a few days.”

  The others nodded. “Meet up at the usual place in two days?” Kyle said. They all nodded.

  Spencer and Scotty stood. Scotty stopped next to Anna and nodded at Gage. “He won’t tell you this, but I will. You did good.” With a glance at Gage, he headed out. Spencer followed him.

  Kyle stood as well. He glanced from Anna to Gage. “You better remember what I said.”

  Gage nodded. Kyle also nodded and then left. Anna fixed a stare on Gage. “Remember what?” she asked.

  “You done here?” She nodded. If Gage didn’t want to tell her anything—well, she couldn’t make him. But the hurt rose anyway.

  Outside, he took her hand. She wanted to pull away, but his grip felt warm and comforting. She hung on. He helped her into the truck, but instead of starting the engine, he turned and faced her. “Talk to me.”

  “About what? You’re leaving, aren’t you? You’ve got N.T. Smalls—Natalie to find. And you’ve got an address now.” She pulled at the strap to her camera bag. “I could go with you.”

  He put up a hand and cupped her cheek. “Becks won’t come after you. The commander’s got him targeted, and Becks got what he wanted. For now. But…what do you want?”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “You’re asking me?”

  He nodded. “I could use your help—but I could use it more if you’re here, working at your office, keeping an eye peeled. We do need someone on the inside. You proved that today. And…and I’d like you to be safe.”

  “With my mother?” She huffed out a breath.

  He shook his head. “I was thinking—I’ve got a townhouse over in Capital Riverfront. My place could use some looking after. And…well, they allow pets. Romeo would like it. I…you might like it.”

  Anna swallowed. Her mouth had gone dry and her heart quickened. “You…are you asking me to move in or house-sit?”

  Gage scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m screwing this up.”

  “No…no.” She put a hand on his arm. “You’re doing fine. I…you…”

  “Dammit, Anna.” Reaching over, he pulled her to him across the bench seat. “I know it’s fast—probably too fast. We should date. Take our time, but I’m not sure how much we have.”

  Anna grabbed the back of his head and kissed him. Twisting her tongue with his, she ordered herself to enjoy every moment she had with him. She let go when she had to come up for air. Gage stared at down at her, eyes dark. “That help you figure out what I want? I want you, Gage. And I’ll take you anyway I can get you.”

  “Now, do you think we could go back to the hotel so I can rescue Romeo from the staff, and maybe get you naked while I can?” Reaching for the hem of his shirt, she slid her hand underneath the cotton and stroked his chest.

  He put one hand over hers. “Keep that up and we’re not going to make it anywhere.”

  “So drive already.”

  They headed back to the hotel room. Once inside, Anna tore at Gage’s clothes. He had her jeans undone and off her before Romeo could even yowl. They fell into bed, and Gage stroked her, leaving her quivering. Her body came alive under his hands, and she knew she’d do anything to keep this—to keep him.

  She rolled with him so she lay o
n top of him. She could feel him shaking beneath. She tipped her hips and guided him into her. She wanted…oh, she wanted. She wanted more and she wanted him.

  Tension spiraled higher through her, warming her, centering in her. She gave into the pleasure—into him. Moaning, he kissed her, holding her hair back. She came with a jolt, a sharp gasp startled out of her, and in the next instant, she felt him spill into her.

  She lay in his arms, breathing hard, sweating, her body cooling. Romeo’s piteous meows pulled her upright. “I’ve got to feed him—and probably get him a litter box.”

  Gage pulled her back down. “Already took care of it with the hotel staff. Don’t listen to him—he’s had salmon for lunch and his litter box set up and changed twice.”