At His Command (7 page)

She turned away from the emotion that darkened his eyes and set his mouth in a grim line. “What is your gut telling you?” The lack of sleep, the quick trip to Pearl and her injuries were beginning to take a toll. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed at her tired face.

Chris didn’t miss the movement and his intense eyes studied her. “That somehow, some way, the two incidents might be connected.”

For an instant her heart stopped. Now it was racing. “Do you remember Master Chief Walker from the
McCloud
six years ago?”

Chris shook his head. “The people who serviced the planes were never really on my radar. I lived to fly and my focus was always on that. When Rafael and I hit the cockpits, we flew for the Navy, but it was pure joy. It’s tragedy enough to lose one pilot, but two in such a short span of time is…suspect.” His voice was reflective and sad. The sound of it squeezed her heart.

She was finding sympathy in all the tragedy. She was feeling some of the guilt that Chris must have felt when her brother’s plane had been destroyed. Although she had no emotional ties to Lieutenant Washington, she regretted any action that she hadn’t taken to ensure that no more deaths attributed to Master Chief Walker occurred. Then she realized the truth. It couldn’t have been Walker. He was dead. What did that mean?

“Oh, damn, there’s one flaw in our suspicions.” She folded her arms and tucked herself back into her seat, some of her doubts beginning to surface.

Chris held her gaze. “What is that?”

“Master Chief Walker died before Lieutenant Washington crash-landed his jet. There can be no way he was involved in the death.” Dammit, this was so puzzling. Why had the man tried to kill her? What did Washington and Saunders have in common that they were both targeted? Sia was convinced they both had been. The manner of their “accidents” was too similar and the same exact issue with the radar couldn’t have been a coincidence. The Navy was meticulous in maintaining their aircraft. Safety was about protecting their investment in the pilots who flew the sleek fighter jets and the amount of money that was tied up in each piece of high-tech machinery.

“There would be if he tampered with the plane before he died.”

She hadn’t considered that. But what was irking her was the incoherency of the pilot. “That’s a possibility, but why didn’t Lieutenant Washington correct the position of his plane before he landed? Any seasoned pilot would have. Lieutenant Washington has executed dozens of carrier landings. His behavior doesn’t jive with his training and skill. If a drug was administered, then the master chief would have had to be present in the wardroom before Saunders took off.”

Chris considered her words, pressing his back to the bulkhead. “There is information we don’t have right now, like the autopsy and the condition of his plane. We’ll wait for those before we start building conspiracy theories.”

“Well, at the very least, the tie I was hoping existed between my brother’s death and Lieutenant Saunders’s accident could still be viable, but I’m not sure what it means that we have another similar accident within only a day of Lieutenant Saunders’s.”

Chris straightened. “You suspect Walker had something to do with sabotaging my fighter?”

“I think he had some beef against pilots. Who knows? Maybe he was a wannabe. But I believe he sabotaged your jet.”

“Why do you think that?”

“He told me so.”

Chris leaned on the small table, his eyes intent and a bit angry. “He told you? He said he sabotaged my plane? He is directly responsible for Rafe’s death? Why didn’t you tell me this information before?”

She shook her head, holding up her hand. “Wait. No, he didn’t exactly tell me that. He just hinted at the information he had no intention of sharing with me that your pilot error was the same as Lieutenant Saunders’s. That he somehow had something to do with it. The rest is my conjecture.”

“He could have been baiting you. We can’t jump to conclusions.”

Sia knew he was in charge and the yoke of that rankled. But she wasn’t going to shut up just because he thought her ideas were speculation. It was a way for her to work out her cases. Too bad if he didn’t like it. “It’s possible he could have tampered with your plane,” she insisted, getting satisfaction at the way his eyes snapped.

“It is possible. He was on the
McCloud
when Rafe and I were stationed here. But we have a lot more investigating to do before we come up with an answer.”

“I know that. I’m convinced it’s worth trying to get them to reopen the case.”

“It’s a tall order, Sia. The Navy isn’t going to be thrilled to rehash an incident that’s already been ruled as pilot error. The report states I’m guilty of channelized attention and it substantially contributed to the mishap.”

There was a limit to her patience. Sia was well aware of Chris’s ruling. His attention had been so consumed with the radar problem it kept him from recognizing and correcting the airspeed and flight path errors and led to his crashing into her brother’s plane. Chris was able to eject to safety, but her brother had been unable to do so in time. They had found him in his plane, still strapped in the seat.

“They will if I have new evidence or a confession from the killer,” she snapped.

He noted her anger with a mocking glance, skepticism in his eyes. “That’s true, but you have to be prepared to accept the fact they made the correct ruling. I was examined by a doctor and he found nothing wrong with me physically. Both Rafe and I were guilty of pilot error. It cost Rafe his life. It cost me…everything.”

A wave of exhaustion hit her. She wanted him to see the possibility, but he was trapped in what the Navy had told him. Sia just wasn’t convinced. Her voice rose a fraction. “Nevertheless, even if there is a small possibility, I won’t rest until justice is served.”

Chris scrutinized her pose, her expression, the passion in her voice, and smiled wryly. “You were born to be a prosecutor, Sia.” His gaze intensified, sharpened, as if he had sensed something in her. Slowly he closed the gap between them until he was a little too close.

“You’ll help me get the evidence I need, won’t you, Chris?” Even though it was a question, Sia had no intention of accepting anything but his acquiescence.

Chris shrugged, avoiding the penetrating stare she turned on him. “What does it matter, Sia? I’m no longer part of the Navy and I’ll never fly a fighter jet again.” His voice was low and smoky like his eyes, laced with old bitterness.

She crossed her arms and scowled at him. “I care. I want my brother’s name cleared.”

“Your voice is like a loaded gun, Sia.” Chris’s gaze melted over her, lingering on her mouth. She just realized he had boxed her in.

“Take it any way you want,” she said flatly, and pointedly extricated herself from the tight space he’d cornered her into. “But I would think you would jump at the chance.” She was all crisp business and haughty demeanor now. It helped to hide the hurt and disappointment that shouldn’t be as crushing as they were. “My brother didn’t have a chance to defend himself. He didn’t have a voice in the matter. I will be that voice for him.” She moved back into the main part of the cabin with a deliberate calm that cost her more than he’d ever realize.

“I’ll do what I can.”

Sia’s jaw tightened fractionally. There was still the thread of disappointment he hadn’t been more supportive of her plan. He hadn’t been there when the master chief had told her he knew something but wasn’t telling her anything. That he expected her to go to her grave knowing the two men she loved most in the world hadn’t been responsible for the accident. She wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him and make him question every aspect, every memory of that day. But he seemed resigned to his fate and hadn’t even considered something else could have been at fault. And, as irrational as it might be, that hurt. “That’s all I can ask,” she said grudgingly.

“I think we should focus our attention fully on the case we’re investigating right now, Sia. Saunders and Washington deserve that.”

Sia nodded. “They do.”

“Do we have Saunders’s autopsy yet?”

Sia shifted her eyes away from his and hedged. She hadn’t meant to lie to him, but unless he directly asked Billy about when she received the report, he would never know she had it in her briefcase. She was just being contrary and she knew it. Being under his thumb for her every move on this case rankled. “I’m not sure. Once the case closed and I was sent home, I really didn’t have a chance to follow up.” All true.

“Well, that needs to be one of our priorities. NCIS agents always follow up.”

She nodded. “Agreed. I could look into that right now. I’ve just got to find Billy.”

“Sia, he’s probably turned in. It’s late.”

“It is?”

“Yes, and you’re dead on your feet. Let’s put this on hold until tomorrow when we’ll both be rested. We need to organize how we’re going to tackle and untangle this mess. If Walker is responsible for all three deaths, then we need to figure that out. If not, we need to either confirm the pilot-error ruling or negate it. There’s more at stake here than proving innocence or guilt.”

“What is that?”

“There are families involved. People who want to know what happened to their loved ones. They need to have answers to put them completely to rest,” he said gently.

He opened the cabin door and Sia stepped out. He followed and secured the door. He turned and headed down the corridor and she followed.

It must have been the weariness leeching at her body. His words caused a storm of emotions to rise in her, the remembered pain of her brother’s death and shame that it had been deemed his fault, never knowing the real answers, not being able to forgive or forget Chris’s part in his death. The tantalizing clue from Walker that he had the real answer, but had no intention of giving her that peace. Her eyes filled and she stumbled on the ladder, which was just what the Navy called the metal stairway that led to the various decks of the ship.

With lightning-quick reflexes, Chris caught her and the movement jostled her sore shoulder. She cried out at the painful twinge. Chris responded by steadying her and swinging her up into his arms. Against her protests, he carried her the rest of the way to her quarters.

The memories whirled around her and intertwined, mixing in a braid of pain and longing that had pulled at her for six long years. To feel his touch again was torture. To have his arms around her again confused her, but was still wonderful.

He was sorely testing her sense of balance. Seeing him again was both unexpected and unwanted. At least on her end. She was going to have to endure working with him—she didn’t have a real choice, but she could ill afford to let herself rekindle any of the feelings she’d had for him. She couldn’t risk it. Besides, their forced contact was temporary, so there was no point. All she had to do was resist the temptation—the very potent temptation.

“Put me down,” she demanded for the third time. Defiantly, he held her against his warm, muscular body. “It was unnecessary.”

“You’re dead on your feet and this was faster.”

His voice had gone rough like whiskey and smoke with a touch of black satin sheets. Sia’s body responded swiftly and automatically to those softly uttered words, nonsensical as they were. He might have said anything in that voice, and she feared her response would have been the same—an instantaneous quickening, a flash of warmth, reduced lung capacity. His breath was warm against her cheek. “I don’t need you to rescue me.” She clenched her teeth at the breathless quality to her voice.

“You were always fiercely independent.” A wicked gleam sparkled in his eyes, curling the corners of his delectable mouth. He leaned close as he easily held her in his strong arms, his thumb rubbing against the exposed skin between her sleeve and the sling. The feel of his skin against her sent a shower of sparks through her.

“Damn straight,” she said as his gaze intensified and there was more fire in his eyes than smoke. With little effort, he caught her gaze, held her prisoner.

“And stubborn,” he breathed, leaning closer still, his lips just brushing the shell of her ear.

She gave him a look that made better men back off and ground her teeth when he only smiled at her. She wiggled against him and he sighed deep in his chest. Finally, he let her go with a slow slide down his body. For far too long, he kept one arm wrapped around her, as if he couldn’t quite bear to let her go.

He had often accused her of being obstinate, and those words brought a rush of bittersweet emotion so strong Sia had to take a moment to compose herself. She was finding it almost as difficult to move out of his embrace.

“My independence has served me well,” she said.

“I have no doubt.”

He fell silent again, and maybe it was her own mounting tension over the swelling emotional war she was playing with herself that made the air between them seem to crackle. But, at least from her perspective, the awareness and anxiety were operating on another level, as well.

He turned as if to go and she risked a quick sideways glance at him then; she couldn’t help it. His profile was solemn, his jaw hard and set. His gaze was fixed on a point at the end of the passageway. This emotion she felt could be totally one-sided. Chances were, he didn’t want or desire anything from her other than her collaboration on this case.

She was thankful no one had witnessed her momentary breakdown. She leaned against the door frame and tried to tell herself all the reasons why being disappointed with that probable reality was a really dangerous way to feel.

“Sia, there’s no shame in accepting help.”

It was a struggle to find her composure. He was far too close, and every facet of her equilibrium was threatened, physically, emotionally, intellectually. “There is when I’m an officer in the Navy and in an official capacity aboard an aircraft carrier. I didn’t need to defend my professionalism before you showed up at JAG and hijacked my case.”

“I didn’t hijack your case.”

“Yes, you did. When you hijacked it, you wouldn’t back down or reassign someone else. You refused. Now we have this…”