Chapter Six #2
“I know.” She closed the subject and punched in the code on the keypad.
The door clicked open and she stepped into home, sweet home.
The blue throw she’d used while reading the night before their wedding lay skewed over the edge of the sofa, but everything else was in place.
She moved toward the kitchen, arranging a to-do list for cleaning, shopping, and decorating in her head.
“Stop!” Behind her Hunt dropped the bag, shut the door, and pulled his weapon in one split-second maneuver. “Come back to me.”
She didn’t huff, argue, or stand her ground. When Hunt used his urgent tone of voice, it meant danger. She hurried to him. Staying silent, she waited for him to explain.
He used his arm to shift her behind him. He motioned for her to stay and went forward, clearing the house like he would on the job. What had he sensed? She shifted quietly and opened the drawer in the credenza by the front door. Her eyes widened. It was empty. Where was the weapon?
She couldn’t utilize months of training with Mackey to back up Hunt without one.
Her husband disappeared into the hall, doors opened and closed in barely discernable noise.
Back at their bedroom, he opened the door and disappeared into the space.
She watched, waited, strained to hear. He came back to the doorway, shook his head, and walked to her. “Stay with me.”
She followed him through the dining room into the kitchen – again nothing disturbed. He stopped and opened the drawer by the back door. His expression said it all. She went on tiptoes to peek around him. Gun was gone from there, too.
Hunt opened all the drawers, face getting darker and more set as he went. He signaled for her to stay in the kitchen and cleared the laundry room and family room, then backtracked to his workroom.
Key in hand, he unlocked and opened the door.
His mean face was a scary sight to bad guys around the globe, but not to Cait.
She accepted every part of who he was, but somebody must have breached his workroom.
The room was a no-fly zone for many, many reasons, including the gun safe, the weapons, and other professional gear locked away for safety and security.
But the most important one was Hunt valued his private space.
His work room and their bedroom were not accessible to strangers.
He came back to the kitchen and stopped next to her. “Somebody’s been in the house and in my safe, took guns, ammunition, and clothes.”
“Who? Theft?”
Hunt shook his head. “This house is protected better than most mansions. I can’t imagine someone got in that QM didn’t identify.”
“So it was a QM person?”
Hunt went silent. Neither of them wanted to even voice the idea – those people were their friends, their colleagues, their family.
Cait turned. “You haven’t cleared the garage.”
“Let’s do it.” Once again, he put her behind him and opened the door. A smell of gas and sulfur had her pulling back. Hunt hit the switch to raise the garage door, flooding the space with light and much needed fresh air.
Cait gasped. “Quaid’s car? Oh my God.”
She tried to brush past him, but he blocked her. “Let me check first.”
“What? Is Quaid dead in the front seat?” The shrill in her voice gave away her fear. Not Quaid. Please. The man was her anchor when her husband was in deadly territory.
Hunt went down the two steps, weapon raised, and slowly maneuvered around the first aid supplies and exercise equipment.
She couldn’t stop herself. She moved to the first aid boxes, prepared to jump in when Hunt gave the word.
He eased his stance. “He’s not here, honey. No one is. Bullet holes. Some blood. But no body.”
Cait’s breath escaped in a long sigh, and she sagged against the first aid boxes. “Christ, what happened?”
Hunt put his gun in the holster at his waist and walked around the car as much as he was able. “Multiple shots. Handgun here.” He pointed to the headlight. “The other holes are a sniper rifle.”
“Two different shooters?”
“Or two guns. You better call QM and Frank.”
Cait huffed and swiped away tears, choosing anger over fear. “These men and their secrets are messing with my safe space. What’s my number one rule?”
Hunt’s eyes widened. “We go home.”
“Okay, number two rule.”
“No blood.”
Cait hissed, the air escaping clenched teeth. “Okay, rule three.”
Hunt fought a smirk. “Don’t bring war into your kitchen.”
“Exactly.” She kept the swear words to a minimum and fished her phone from her back pocket.
&&&&&&&&&&
Somebody kicked him.
Quaid cracked an eye, tried to focus, failed, and rolled over. He knew this narrow sofa had been a bad idea.
“You will wake up.”
A woman’s voice – “Alanna?”
“Nope, try again.”
“Elizabeth?”
“Nope.”
He rolled to sitting and reached for eyedrops. Alanna had been right about his contacts.
“What the hell were you doing at my house?”
“Cait.”
“And I’m asking nicely. Hunt is with Harrison and Mackey in Operations.”
The moisture from the drops let him keep his eyelids open. Cait sat across from him in one of the green-patterned swivel armchairs. Dressed in jeans and a blue-striped button down shirt, her white coat and stethoscope were reassuring.
“Have you checked Alanna?”
“Yes. I’m waiting for the records from the hospital to review her ear examination. Answer my question.”
“Cliff notes or full story?”
“Cliff notes for now.”
“Parking lot. After wedding. Shot at. Didn’t want to try to get back inside. Too many people still here cleaning from your wedding. Took my car to your house, got armed. Niles has all of it.”
“So you brought this assassin to my house.”
“No, we’d lost him before we came to your neighborhood.”
“We?”
“Williams was with me.”
“Alanna?”
He huffed at the interruption. “Yes. She was in the parking lot. She thought they were after me and took me out of the line of fire.”
“Brave woman.”
“Yes. Without a doubt.” Quaid stood to stretch out the soreness in his muscles. “I’m sorry. As Mackey and I discussed, it might be time to put other drop boxes in place for emergencies.”
“My house is your house. Except you left our home defenseless, and I couldn’t back up Hunt while he was clearing the house.”
“I forget you’ve trained for backup.” At her expression, he tacked on more. “Honest. Sorry.”
She dropped back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Somebody should kick you harder than I just did.”
His office door opened. A dangerous Navy SEAL filled his doorway with Harrison, Mackey, Niles, and Frank behind him. Hunt face showed neither friendship nor care. When he was pissed, he could wipe his face of all emotion. Quaid had learned that in the one mission they’d done together.
He stood and held out a hand to the one man he owed a longer explanation. “I’m sorry. I was grasping at straws and trying to get us armed and to safety.”
Hunt accepted the handshake, but Quaid knew from his expression the questions weren’t over.
“How long were you in the house?”
“Eight minutes and change. Car was in the garage within 60 seconds. We’d lost the guy before we arrived, but he knows which neighborhood.”
“How’d you leave?”
“Uber. Black Nissan.”
“And went where?”
“Coronado Patton. I have a black Suburban there. Well, currently it’s at the LA Downtown Regency Patton.”
“Yet, he found you again at the hotel. Planted an explosive on your food cart.”
“Yeah, I have no explanation. Barker is working the scene. And he’s not after me. He’s after Alanna. She knew his face and a name. We don’t have the full story yet. She’s been down.”
The other men stayed silent even though Frank shifted like he wanted to jump in.
He owed the cop some time later, but for the moment, he’d throw him a bone.
“Frank, my car is at Hunt and Cait’s, in the garage.
You can tow it.” He winced. “See what you can find with forensics, but the guy never touched it.”
“Noted. His bullets did, though. Might find one embedded.”
Hunt rubbed his face. “Harrison said Williams was down, but we need to talk to her. Because the problem is…I recognize him, too.”
Quaid sucked in a breath. “How?”
Hunt’s expression stayed blank. “I can’t tell you.”
His gut clenched. “Please tell me she hasn’t stepped into some black ops thing.”
“I can’t. I need to review the exact context. You’ll have to let me check in at the office.”
That excluded all of them. Classified was classified. SEAL missions stayed secret. Coronado SEAL Operations was off-limits.
Mackey broke the silence. “We are searching downtown for Daniel Whittaker, our lead to the assassin. Delaney is helping. We’ll take a team out and do some searching this evening, same as we did when we hunted for Delaney.”
Cait stood, her tablet in hand. “I have Alanna’s results from the hospital. Let me go talk with her, but she’s down for at least another day. We have to do what we can to protect her hearing.”
“She can talk, though.” Harrison’s tired face was as blank as Hunt’s. SEALS.
Cait rolled her eyes. “Yes, she can talk. I’ll ask if she can manage some questions. Everybody needs to sleep. Doctor’s orders. And you should have called us when this happened.”
A lecture was coming, and Quaid took the friend route. “We wanted you and Hunt to have an undisturbed honeymoon. We covered you, but again I’m sorry.”
Hunt stepped to him and gripped his shoulder. “I’m just glad you’re okay. If it helped, it’s always there to use, just leave us a note next time. And leave one fucking weapon in one of the drawers.”
“Understood.”
Mackey added the last piece. “The FBI has nothing on this man. Alanna saw him once, in high school, with Whittaker. That’s the piece where we need every detail. Delaney is friends with Whit. I’m hoping he’ll be able to shorten the search.”