Chapter Twenty #2
She hadn’t called him at all. But she’d called Hunt?
His mouth wouldn’t stay shut. “You have your own girl, Hunter.”
Cait snorted.
Hunt shrugged. “Sounded serious. That’s all I know.”
“How’s Whit?” He knew Alanna would ask as soon as she found out Cait had dropped in.
“He’d be recovering faster if he accepted his limitations. He’s still not happy about being shot.” She glared at her husband.
“He should have stayed out of the line of fire.” The whole op was constantly debated. At this rate, they’d be using the scenario to train their operatives.
The Operations door jerked open, and Alanna came in with an urgent stride – FBI Badge ID around her neck, gun at her hip, no jacket, hair escaping from her braid, and strain on her face.
He rose to greet her. “Are you all right?”
She grabbed his hand to keep him at the table, took a deep breath, and cupped his face, kissing him before answering. “Yes, I am. Mostly.”
She turned to Hunt, then paused to measure her words.
“Problem?” Hunt straightened in his chair.
“Out straight. We found Mercer’s hide. PD did anyway. We have his kill book. Take a walk with me, Lieutenant Commander.”
“Lani?” Quaid did not like the way this sounded.
She raised a finger. “Hunt only. Please.”
Hunt eyed her with practical concern. “Is this something you’re going to get in trouble for?”
Her eyes held a fury he hadn’t seen since the night she’d shot Mercer. “Fuck it. Don’t care. Come with me.”
Hunt followed her. Quaid stayed in place, trying like hell to respect the need for the secrets. The door closed behind them.
“Oh, this is going to be fun.” She kicked Mac’s chair and woke him. “Any coffee left around here?”
He pointed across the room at the pot. She rose, patting Quaid on the arm as she went by. “It’s okay. You can trust him with her.”
Trust wasn’t the issue. Deep secrets and complications were.
Celissa poked her head in the room. “Quaid, State Attorney General is on line one.”
Quaid wanted to call back, but they had a contract and he was the front man. Government navigation was complicated enough without blowing them off. “Tell Lani I had to take a call.”
Mac nodded and held the fort.
&&&&&&&&&&
Alanna stepped onto the roof terrace off the sixth floor and made sure they were alone. The bare space needed the party atmosphere from Hunt and Cait’s wedding to revive its energy. She went to the roof edge and gazed across the cityscape.
“Spill it, Williams. Brief me.”
“I had about two hours with his kill list before NCIS took the book. I imagine Army Intelligence is teed up for a turn, too.”
Hunt usually managed his facial expressions, but today he wasn’t covering the leery reaction. “Why?”
“Military people, dozens of them. Navy SEAL Lieutenant Commander Stephen Riley, your friend. Yes?”
Hunt’s brow creased. “Yes. He was collateral damage in an assassination a few years ago.”
“He’s number 92 in Mercer’s assassination book. Not collateral damage. He was the target.”
Surprise streaked over his face. He didn’t try to lock it down.
“Someone paid $30,000 to have him killed.”
“What? Why? Who?” Hunt spit out the questions rapid-fire.
“Entry is coded, and we haven’t uncovered any of his financials yet. His computer is locked tight with destruct instructions. I can’t answer those questions. And now NCIS has the book. There’s so many more that are coded military, it’s disgusting.”
Hunt stared off in the distance, making a valiant effort to contain his anger. His wasn’t working any better than hers were.
She tapped the edge of the balcony trying to expel her pent up emotions.
“Let’s say someone has been analyzing, searching, even asking questions about Riley’s assassination.
I wouldn’t say stop, but be mindful of what’s at stake.
Whether you or someone else is searching, be careful.
Somebody out there isn’t going to want this information out. ”
“Did you make a copy?”
“I have a picture of the page. I’ll send it to you. A copy of the whole book. No. We were given the civilian killer book. NCIS took the assassination one.”
“He had two?”
She nodded. “We haven’t gone through everything yet. One would hope there were only two, but I’m not laying bets on it. He was seriously prolific.”
“Was your friend in the civilian book?”
“Yes. Right after her? My name, coded as unfinished business.”
Hunt shut his eyes. Honestly, his reaction was more subdued than hers, but that wasn’t saying much.
She struggled to keep her tone even. “He booby trapped his house, Hunt. Bomb squad found seven bombs that would have leveled the whole neighborhood. Family next door has six kids with a fourteen year old daughter. If you think I’m not pissed…”
“I know you are. Dump site?”
“No. Nothing there.”
“Maybe he has someplace else he keeps the bodies and more information.”
“We won’t know until a directed search begins. It’s going to a task force now, and I’ve opted out.”
“Why?”
“I’m not impartial anymore, and it’ll take me away from Quaid. I need to put this away. But I’m here to help if you need it.”
“Thanks. I have to talk to my commander. Can we keep this between us?”
“On this end, yes. But do what you need to.” She texted him the picture as they left the balcony.
“Got it. Dump the picture off your phone, Alanna.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Ryker know?”
“No.”
Hunt nodded, then went silent.
Back in the conference room, Quaid was gone.
Alanna sat next to Cait. “Where’s Quaid?”
“He had a business call. He’ll be back.” Her eyes were on Hunt. He’d stopped to talk to Harrison. They went into his office.
“What happened? He’s pissed.”
Alanna studied Harrison’s closed door. “I can’t say. But stick close. He might need someone to lean on later.”
“Copy that.”
Quaid came to the Operations glass door, his phone still at his ear. He signaled her. She left Mac and Cait and went to him. She needed to hand off her phone to Kerry to be wiped, and then…go to a safe, quiet space for a long while. That was Quaid. That was home.
&&&&&&&&&&
Alanna woke and couldn’t hear the ocean.
She turned her head on her pillow so her right ear was toward the window. There it was, and Quaid was lightly snoring, a sound she expected to hate, but was a reassurance of sorts. She’d have to reschedule her ENT appointment in the morning.
She rose, tugged a white San Diego Zoo sweatshirt over her head, and slipped into a pair of cream-colored yoga pants.
On the quietest steps, she left the room and went down the back stairs to the kitchen.
She was breaking the bed etiquette rules, and she knew it.
The light on over the stove was more than sufficient to find her way to a glass and the chocolate milk in the fridge.
She stood staring at the contents of the shelf before sweet won out over nutrition.
To her credit, she heard the house monitor’s footsteps – miracle – and didn’t gasp. “Conners. Do you lurk around in the dark all the time?”
“No, I was in the office and heard you. Everything all right?”
“Yes. Restless, work on my mind, and wanted chocolate milk.”
He smiled slightly like he knew, but she never met a man who understood a woman’s cravings. Oh, they could observe and respond, if they paid attention, but truthfully appreciating the first swallow – a woman’s thing.
“If you need anything, I’m in the office.”
“Only you, tonight?”
“No, Tane is outside doing a sweep.” He left her alone.
Why didn’t this house have a guard dog, a moat, a bridge troll? All random, irrelevant questions at two a.m.
She levered herself onto a stool at the counter with a soft, gray blanket from the kitchen table chair, her drink refilled, and a package of graham crackers pilfered from the pantry.
You’re struggling, Alanna.
She hated when her subconscious talked to her.
She should be struggling. She’d killed a man.
But after today, after that house, after another round of anger…
she wasn’t concerned about the kill so much as that she had no remorse, no feeling about his death other than satisfaction that the bastard was cremated and gone.
She could finally put ‘the end’ on that chapter. Needed to.