40. Savannah
Kat stood at the front of the conference room and clicked through slides, reviewing the team’s final after-action report. The last part of the presentation was the saddest for me because justice hadn’t fully been served.
Devlin Masters was in a psychiatric hospital. After his arrest, he’d been diagnosed with brief reactive psychosis. He’d had a psychotic break.
“He already had mental health issues, as evidenced by months’-long behavior and his confessions to the WCI staff,” Bond said, diplomatically avoiding mention of the pivotal role I’d played in his delusions. “With each higher level he joined within the organization, he was subjected to more coercive control, including food and sleep deprivation, demands to provide more money for Anson’s coffers, accusations of ruining WCI’s mission with his failures.”
“Unfortunately,” Kat said, “while we can connect the dots, that’s not the way Devlin is phrasing his confession, so we don’t have enough actionable evidence to pursue WCI for those abuses.”
Thus far, Devlin refused to implicate the organization or Anson in anything that had happened to Ben, me, or Lamp;M, either. Thus, once his doctors declared him fit to stand trial, he and he alone would be charged with embezzlement, kidnapping, attempted murder, and a whole host of other crimes.
Ben kissed my hand. “At least he admitted you had nothing to do with it, so he won’t take you and the company down with him.”
That was cold comfort when Taylor Stewart was in the wind, and Howard Anson was on the lecture circuit. And the money Devlin had siphoned out of the company was gone for good, disappeared into the deep pockets of Anson and his cronies, although I’d never be able to prove it.
In better news, Ben’s preliminary testimony about Anson, Stewart, the bomb, and their part in his kidnapping had lit a fire under someone at the Department of Justice, and X was already finding it easier to get warrants to dive deeply but quietly into WCI. Pasco was a happy man.
After the debrief, the team moved into the lounge. Jason Jensen was behind the bar with Pasco, concocting something no one wanted but everyone would drink. I would partake, too, because I’d come to realize this was a team bonding exercise. And although my anxiety stomach plus total lack of applicable skill sets meant I would never be an official HEAT agent, I would always be an unofficial member of this team.
Mai introduced me to both her partners, her work wife, Cynthia, who was a badass blonde agent, and Chase, who was a hot blond businessman. “You have a type,” I told her, and immediately began swapping embarrassing Mai stories with them. When X walked into the lounge with a hunky dark-haired man, I learned he was Cynthia’s significant other, Derek, a master spy who was still a legend at HEAT. He was also Chase’s brother.
“Proof that siblings can work together,” Mai told Ben, who pretended not to hear her.
Kat entered the room with another unofficial team member, Gage. From her closed office, Mr. Whiskerbottom Fuzzypants and Miss Whisperbottom Fancypants made it known that they enjoyed a good party, too.
“I think that’s everyone,” X announced. “Can everyone gather around?” When we were quiet, she continued. “First, I want to congratulate all of you on the successful rescue of Ben Hayes.”
We clapped and cheered.
“And now, I’m going to turn over the floor to your fearless leader. Kat?”
We cheered again.
“Hold up,” Pasco said. “If we’re making speeches, we need drinks so we can toast.”
He and Jensen carried trays with silver champagne glasses and handed one to everyone. I looked down at the liquid and had no idea what it could be. Which was usually the point of the Jensen/Pasco mixtures.
Lang stared down at the purple drink, then looked up at Ben. “Is this about you, Purple Haze?”
Kat arched an eyebrow at Pasco and Jensen. “Thanks for stealing my thunder. I’m not going to ask how you got this information, but the three of us will have a chat in my office tomorrow morning.”
Jason took a bow, and Pasco lifted his glass. And I realized theirs was a bromance story like Ben’s and Ryan’s.
“In case there’s anyone in the room who hasn’t figured it out, Ben Hayes has accepted a permanent position here at HEAT.” Kat lifted her glass. “Welcome, Ben.”
“To Ben!” We all toasted.
We sipped our purple drinks. An explosion of sour cherries and black olives and something vile that was unnamable assaulted my tongue. Mai spit hers back into her glass. Several people choked down some of the drink, then set down their glasses and backed away.
Kyle drank his down in two gulps.
Logan scowled at Kyle. “That comes back up and we’re going to have a problem.” He pointed at me. “It’s only cute when she does it.”
Ben eased his arm around my shoulders. “Sorry, the vomit comet is all mine.”
“Ben!” I fake-slapped his chest.
“Medical conditions are no joke, Hayes,” Bond said. “You’d do well to remember that, as HEAT’s head medical officer, I can make you retake your physical fitness certification at any time.” When Wheeler opened his mouth, she held up her hand. “And I can make you join him.”
Someone turned on the music. Wheeler asked X if they could install a karaoke machine. She refused. Logan asked someone, probably Ben, if they were going to have a problem. And the whole thing devolved into a raucous party.
Chase nudged my elbow. “What would you be doing tonight if you were back in Vallejo?”
“Nothing this fun.”
“I heard you’re promoting your assistant operations manager to run the California branch while you restart the Maryland branch.”
I glanced across the room at Mai. “I wonder where you heard that? Yes. First, though, I have to evict a group of cult members from the building, who, it turns out, I’ve been paying for six months.” I shook my head. He didn’t know the details of the HEAT operation. “I’m sure that sounds crazy.”
He held up a hand. “I’ve learned not to ask questions about things related to this place. But I am interested in looking at your business plan. Derek’s a high-end whisky snob, and he’s been harassing me for years about finding an investment in that area.”
I smiled. I liked him for my friend. “Thank you, Chase. That’s very nice, but you don’t have to go on a pity business date with me.”
“There’s no pity about it,” Derek said as he joined us. He handed me a tumbler with two fingers of whisky in it. “My favorite.”
I sipped it. “Mm, a Macallan fan.” I took another sip. “I haven’t had this vintage before, though.”
“It’s an Edition Number One. I bought it at auction. My brother wasn’t lying about us wanting to invest in your market space. Let’s take a meeting. How’s tomorrow for you?”
“Afternoon is fine,” Mai said. She walked over to us, dragging Ben with her. “But tomorrow morning, these two have a very important appointment to see a condo. I’ll be there, by the way.” She winked at me. “I have to make sure to tell the realtor we’ll need an extra key cut for me.”
Ben took my hand. “Tell me she’s kidding.”
Chase patted his back. “She’s not.”
Something rumbled over the gym floor. We all turned to see Kyle pulling a large, black box by the handle into the lounge.
Across the room, ryan turned his wide smile on X and pressed his hands together, as if pleading. “We kind of already bought the karaoke machine. We can return it tomorrow, if necessary.”
X scowled, then glanced at Kat. “Your house. Your call.”
Kat rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. “I know I’m going to live to regret this, but—”
“Yes!” Kyle and Ryan said in unison and high-fived.
A minute later, the box was set up and plugged in, and the crowd had cleared away from a corner of the room that would serve as the stage. Ryan picked up the mic as Kyle headed in our direction.
“Our first song tonight is very, very special to one of our teammates.” Ryan laid a hand over his heart. “And I know he wants to sing it to all of you.”
“No.” Ben shook his head at Kyle, who now gripped his shoulder and pushed him toward the stage.
“Come on!” several of his teammates called to him. “Let’s hear it!”
“We won’t leave you hanging,” Ryan said as Kyle, dragging Ben with him, reached the stage corner. He turned to the crowd. “How would you like to hear a special serenade from tac and log ops teams? Lang, you’ll join us, right?”
That earned him two middle fingers up from Logan, but I thought I saw the curmudgeonly logistics lead grin ever so slightly.
“Right, then,” Kyle called out. “How about a trio?”
When the opening chords of Never Gonna Give You Up, aka the rickroll song blasted over the speakers, we gave a spontaneous cheer.
Ben scowled at Ryan, but did take the mic offered to him, and Kyle and Ryan each took their own. There was no screen connected to the machine to show the newly bonded teammates the lyrics, but they didn’t need them. All three of them know every single word. And the entire room, even X and Lang, sang along to the chorus.
Hours later,we finally slipped out of the party and snuck upstairs. Ben locked my apartment door behind us and sighed. “Ah, that’s bliss.”
“What is?”
“The quiet.”
“Yeah, I didn’t want to say anything,” I grinned at him, “but you were a little pitchy.”
He growled as he lunged for me, but I slipped out of his grasp and led him to the sofa. I made him sit so I could check the bandage on his temple.
“Don’t screw up Bond’s handiwork,” he said, but he was actually focused on unzipping my dress.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea for your concussion.”
He grinned. “I’ve been medically cleared to resume my duties as a fiancé.”
“Did you bring a doctor’s note?”
His face fell.
I laughed. “Sometimes you’re too easy.” I held out my hand. “Come on. You can tuck me in.”
In the bedroom, he pulled me into his arms. “I’m surprised you didn’t catch me on a technicality.”
“What technicality?”
“Well, I’m not officially your fiancé until you officially accept my proposal.” He tried my dress zipper again, and this time was successful. “You told me to ask again when I didn’t have a concussion.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
He slid my dress off my shoulders and hung it on the back of the chair. “Ohhh, black and lacy.” He ran his finger over the front of my bra. “Is this new?”
“You know it’s not. Now, when is this proposal coming?”
“Are you anxious to marry me or something?” He kissed the base of my throat.
“When you do that, absolutely.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “That sounds like a proposal to me. I graciously accept.”
“Sneaky!”
“Je ne regrette rien.”
“Neither do I. And yes, I’m proposing to you. Benjamin Hayes, will you do me the honor of becoming my lawfully wedded husband?”
His face turned serious, and he pulled me in for a long, slow kiss. “There’s nothing I want more in the world. Well, that and your babies. If that’s something you want.”
“I think I knew I wanted to have kids with you the minute Bond handed me a pregnancy test, although I had to get past the shock. So, how about”—I kissed his neck—“we set a wedding date. Something small.”
“And something soon.”
I pulled off his T-shirt and kissed his chest. “Very soon,” I agreed. “And then we’ll figure out a schedule for having babies.”
“Agreed. But there is one more very, very important thing we need to discuss now.”
“Which is?”
He backed me up against the bedroom door and placed a hand on either side of my head, the way he’d held me against the car that day in the airport parking lot. My belly fluttered, and my lady bits clenched in anticipation of what was to come.
“I need you to answer a very important question.” He nibbled my neck, pressed the full length of his body against mine, and whispered in my ear. “Where are your blue stilettos?
Ready to read more about Ben and Savannah’s happily-ever-after?
Catch up with the happy couple four months later in the Believing Ben Epilogue.