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Authors: Pamela Clare

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary romantic suspense

Striking Distance (26 page)

BOOK: Striking Distance
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“Thanks, man.” Javier shook Childers’s hand. “Sorry to keep you so late.”

“No problem. It was good to see you again, Ms. Nilsson.” Childers gave Marc and Julian a nod and left.

It was then Laura remembered her manners. “I’m so sorry. Please make yourselves at home. Can I take your coats, get you something to drink?”

Marc and Julian shook their heads.

“Don’t worry about us,” Marc said. “We’ll be heading out in a minute.”

She looked at the three men. “So will one of you please fill me in? The TV news isn’t saying much. A shooting in LoDo. One man dead. Another wounded.”

Javier slipped out of his coat and sat on the sofa, drawing Laura with him, Marc and Julian sitting across from them. She listened as Javier told her what had happened, feeling sick to think that he would be dead right now if the man who’d fired at him had simply been a better shot.

“He was laughing?” Chills shivered down her spine

Javier nodded. “It was the damnedest thing I’ve ever seen. He had this look on his face like he was having fun. And when I shot him, he looked . . . surprised.”

“Was he psychotic?”

“We hope to have some answers soon.” Julian got to his feet. “Old Man Irving sent homicide to execute a search warrant at his residence this evening. In the meantime, the firearm he used has been sent to the lab.”

Marc stood. “It looked to me like someone had painted the tip to make the weapon look like a toy. It could be the shooter
wanted
to fool you, Corbray. That way he’d get off the first shot.”

“If his aim had been better, it would have worked.” Javier touched a hand against his wounded side.

“How did they know where to find you?” Laura didn’t understand that part. The grocery store wasn’t usually part of Javier’s routine.

“My guess is he knew I went for a run every morning and planned to catch me on my way back. When I took a detour to the store, he followed me.”

“That’s as good an explanation as any.” Julian stood. “We’ll let you know what the search warrant turns up.”

Then Marc and Julian left, leaving Laura and Javier alone.

Laura checked to make sure the door was locked and turned to find Javier standing behind her. “The media are going to pick this up. My paper will pick it up first. Someone on the news crew will remember your name, and they’ll connect you to me. Then the national papers will grab it and the TV news stations. I’m so sorry.”

He nodded, a muscle clenching in his jaw. “It’s not your fault.”

“Your commander can’t penalize you for defending yourself, can he?”

“Probably not.”

“You’d be dead if you hadn’t fired back.”

But Javier’s thoughts seemed to be elsewhere.

He reached for her. “I killed a man today,
bella
. I’ve killed men in combat, but this was different. I had no choice. I know that. He tried to kill me. But why?”

“I’m so sorry.” She sank into his embrace and held him as tightly as he held her, one thought running through her mind, the same thought that had haunted her all afternoon.

She’d almost lost him. She’d almost lost Javier.

That simple realization had cut through her, opened her eyes to the truth. Despite all that had happened to her, despite the terrible situation with Klara, she had something precious in her life now, something beautiful, something she could not bear to lose.

And that was Javier.

She loved him.

He drew back, a hand against his injured side. “You think you can help me find a way to take a shower without getting this wet?”

She smiled up at him. “I bet I can think of a thousand ways.”

It was only later, when she and Javier lay in bed together on the brink of sleep, that Laura remembered what she’d discovered about Ali.

She would call Zach tomorrow.

CHAPTER

24

LAURA RAN NAKED
into her office and booted up her computer, then rushed back to her bedroom and grabbed something out of her closet. It turned out not to be the blue dress she’d aimed for but a blue blouse.
“Helvete!”

Javier stood in the hallway naked, apart from the dressing on his side, glancing down at the watch in his hand. “You’re not going to make it. It’s zero-nine-hundred and thirty seconds.”

She slipped into the blouse, buttoning it as she ran back toward her office, still totally bare from the waist down.

“Is this your new professional look, because, I gotta say,
bella
, I like it.”

Torn between laughter and irritation, she glared at him as she passed. “This is your fault, Javier Corbray.”

“My fault? Hey, you started it.” He followed her. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy to be your morning lollipop, but I need to eat, too.”

Her simple good-morning blow job had turned into a round of crazed sixty-nine that had sent pillows flying—and was about to make her late for work. Oh, but it had been worth it. Her body was still purring.

She sat at her desk and clicked on Skype, doing her best to work the tangles out of her hair, the clock on her computer telling her that she was now a full minute late for the I-Team meeting. She grabbed her notepad and was about to log on when she realized Javier had followed her into her office. “Go, or my editor is going to see you naked!”

Chuckling, he disappeared out the door.

A click and a few rings later, she found herself staring at Tom’s face.

“Nice of you to join us, Nilsson.”

“Sorry I’m late.” She felt the urge to laugh, knowing that to him she looked normal—a bit less polished than usual, but normal—when she was only half-dressed.

“Hey, Laura!” That was Sophie.

Tom went on. “Harker, can you indulge Nilsson’s tardiness by repeating yourself?”

“I’ve got an e-mail trail of two city council members who appear to have been taking kickbacks from a labor union. I’m guessing twenty inches with head shots.”

“Alton?” Tom’s gaze shifted.

“Windsor became the tenth Colorado town to ban fracking. I’d like to pull something together on the lawsuits challenging the bans and include the latest EPA studies on air and water pollution at fracking sites. Joaquin got some great shots of the rigs out along the Poudre River. I’d need probably fifteen to twenty inches.”

Tom looked into the camera. “How about you, Nilsson? Make any progress on that VA story?”

“I have an interview scheduled for later today with the regional VA director, and then I’ll be ready to pull it together.” Laura had never quite gotten the hang of thinking in column inches. She did a bit of mental math. “It will be a good twenty inches.”

“What about photos?” That was Syd.

Joaquin answered. “I’ve got shots of most of the soldiers she’s interviewed as well as the PTSD coordinator.”

“Carmichael—your turn. What’s the latest on the bombing investigation and last Thursday’s shooting?”

“That depends.” The camera moved until Laura found herself looking at Alex, who had a black eye and lacerations on his cheek. “Any word from the DPD as to whether yesterday’s shooting of your SEAL friend is related to the attacks on you?”

He already knew.

“No.”

Alex looked directly into the lens. “Are you sure about that?”

“Of course, I’m sure.”

“I’d really hate it if some other paper scooped us on any of these stories because you held out on your own coworkers.”

Laura’s face flamed. “If I knew something and sharing it wouldn’t place my life or his in danger, I would tell you. In this case, I haven’t heard anything. The shooter might have been just a random psycho.”

She understood now why Alex got punched in the face so often.

Alex looked up at Tom. “Javier Corbray, the SEAL who’s shacking up at Laura’s, was shot yesterday in broad daylight on Nineteenth Street between Chestnut and Wewatta. Minor wound. Corbray fired back and killed his assailant with two slugs to the chest. DPD is being very close-lipped about it. Also, my sources with the FBI says they’re getting close to making an arrest in the bombing.”

“What?” Laura hadn’t heard that. “Who told you that?”

But Alex ignored her. “I’m looking at six inches on both pieces.”

Laura was glad when the meeting was over. She walked to her bedroom to finish dressing, then found Javier sitting in his running pants on the sofa staring out the window at the mountains, his cell phone on the coffee table across from him.

She sat beside him. “Did your commander call?”

He shook his head, one hand coming to rest on her thigh. “I called him. I decided it was better he hear it from me than the newspapers.”

That made sense.

“What did he say?”

“He wants me to fly back to Coronado this afternoon.”

Laura felt the color drain from her face. She stood, turned her back to him, walked to the kitchen. “So . . . you’re leaving.”

“Laura, I—”

“It’s probably for the best. Since you got here, you’ve been filmed and photographed, had your name in the paper. You’ve been shot at—twice. You were almost killed yesterday.” She averted her gaze, not wanting him to see how upset she was. She’d never cared for women who used their emotions to blackmail. Javier needed to do what was right for him without pressure from her. “You came to Colorado to recover, not to get sucked into my mess.”

“I did not get
sucked
into anything.” He walked over to her and took her hands. “I made a choice,
bella
, and that choice was to stand by you. I’m not leaving now.”

She stared at him. “But your commander—”

“He didn’t give me an order. It was more like a strong suggestion.”

“A suggestion?” Laura shook her head. “I don’t want you putting your career on the line for me. You’ve already done so much for—”

He pressed his fingers to her lips. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m staying here with you until my leave is up.”

Laura sank into his open arms and held on tight, hoping with all of her heart he wouldn’t have a reason to regret his decision.

* * *

JAVIER LOOKED OUT
over the rooftops of Denver, trying not to feel anything as he spoke. “We came across a shepherd and his two sons on our way in. You know the choice—kill them or let them live and risk them giving us away. I did what I felt was right. We gave them chocolate and water, even fixed blisters on one boy’s foot. The moment we left, they must have hightailed it to the village. We were ambushed by Taliban fighters. Eighteen men died.”

“You can’t blame yourself.” Nate stood beside him in his fleece barn jacket, cowboy hat pulled low to keep the wind from catching it. “I’d have done the same thing. Most of us would.”

Nate had called shortly after Javier and Laura had finished breakfast to say he’d heard about the shooting and was on his way over. The two of them had retreated to the rooftop so as not to distract Laura, who was still on the clock.

“That’s what I tell myself.” He’d been telling himself that for more than five months. “My squad agreed with my decision. No one wanted to put a bullet through those kids, man. The boys couldn’t have been much older than nine or ten. But then I see that helo flying in, getting blown to bits along with medics inside . . . They died trying to save our lives.”

He could still hear the rotors, feel the blast wave, smell the burning fuel oil.

“I tried to help Krasinski hold on, but . . . I took another round, lost consciousness, woke up in a hospital. In my dreams, Crazy K is lying beside me, bleeding out in the dirt.”

“Just like your brother.”

Javier nodded, his throat tight. “Krasinski trusted me. He was a tough kid, a hard charger. He gave it a hundred and ten percent. He was a warrior. I guess he reminded me of Yadiel—that enthusiasm, that deep loyalty, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

Javier drew a deep breath, then turned to look at his best friend. “You were right. I’ve been acting like an ass. I’m sorry, man.”

“You got no reason to apologize. You’ve always been there for me. I just wanted you to trust me enough to let me be there for you. I know it’s not easy for you to admit that you need anything from anyone. Thanks for opening up, for letting me in.”

And Javier finally understood.

He’d tried to be the one that everyone could count on, the one who didn’t need help. He’d felt that’s what he’d had to do to be strong. But this kind of brotherhood—it was a two-way street. It had been arrogant of him to try to help Nate when he refused to let Nate help him.

“Thanks, man.”

“You going to see a therapist when you get back?”

That was a completely different question. “I don’t know. The nightmares have always stopped eventually. If they don’t . . .”

If they didn’t, he might talk to someone then.

The conversation drifted. Nate shared his news. Megan had gotten into law school and would be starting at the University of Colorado School of Law in August. Jack was getting ready to head out for a forty-fifth reunion with his platoon of Army Rangers. Emily had lost her first tooth.

Then Javier told Nate about the commander’s phone call and his refusal to return to Coronado until his leave was up.

“He asked me if I was trying to make a name for myself as an individual by hanging with a celebrity. After fourteen years of service, a Silver Star, two Purple Hearts, and a half dozen other medals, I didn’t feel I deserved that kind of bullshit.” A handful of SEALs had risen to individual prominence in recent years, giving the Pentagon a headache when it came to national security, but Javier had never sought to cash in on his Trident. “I got pissed, told him I wasn’t doing this so someone could buy the book rights. I love her, Nate.”

Nate grinned. “Tell me something I don’t know. How does she feel?”

Javier wasn’t entirely sure. He knew she trusted him more than any other man. He knew she cared about him, felt sexual desire for him. She wanted to stay in touch after he left. For now, that was enough.

“She cares about me. She was really shaken up yesterday.”

“I don’t blame her.”

Javier’s cell rang. He fished it out of his pocket. “It’s McBride.”

“On my way over,” McBride said. “A couple of these puzzle pieces just came together.”

* * *

LAURA DIALED TED
Hollis’s number to complete the interview that had been cut short by the car bomb and was relieved when he answered on the second ring. “Hi, Mr. Hollis. This is Laura Nilsson from the
Denver Independent
.”

“Hello, Laura. It’s good to hear your voice.”

“It’s been a while since we last spoke. I’m sorry our interview was interrupted. I meant to get back to you sooner, but things have been busy.”

He laughed. “You couldn’t help that.”

“How are you doing these days?”

“Oh, I’m hanging in there. I’m still having nightmares. I tried to quit drinking myself to sleep, but that just meant I didn’t sleep.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that. I called to see if you had anything else you wanted to add to your interview.”

“Oh, well, I can’t remember what we talked about. How are you? You’ve had a lot happen in your life since we spoke. The bomb. Some guy trying to shoot you. That must be very scary. I watch the news at night. I saw your interview and saw how afraid you were when they showed you that footage. I never did like Gary Chapin.”

“I’m doing fine. The U.S. Marshals are keeping me safe.”

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it.”

Javier appeared beside her.

“McBride is here,” he whispered.

She said a quick farewell to Mr. Hollis, thanking him for his willingness to share his story with her readers, then ended the call. “Did they say why he’s come?”

He shook his head. “He’s waiting for you.”

She was glad he was here, regardless of the reason. She needed to speak with him about Ali. She got up from her desk and walked with Javier down the hallway. “Alex said this morning in the I-Team meeting that the FBI was close to making an arrest in the bombing case. Maybe that’s what they’ve come to tell us.”

She found Zach sitting in her living room.

He stood when she entered. “Sorry to interrupt your work, Laura, but I’ve got some news for both of you.”

She sat, her hand instinctively finding its way into Javier’s, his warm fingers closing reassuringly around hers. “Go ahead.”

“First, I wanted you to know that Derek Tower might pull through after all. He’s been upgraded to critical but stable. He hasn’t fully regained consciousness, and he’s not yet breathing on his own. Hopefully, we’ll be able to question him soon.”

That was good news.

“How’s Janet?” Laura hadn’t had time to call and check on her this morning.

“She may be looking at another surgery, but she’s recovering.” Zach took a photo out of a file folder and slid it across the coffee table toward Laura. “We’ve identified the man Corbray shot yesterday. Do you recognize him at all?”

Javier leaned in. “That’s him, all right.”

Laura looked at the image, feeling revulsion to think that this was the man who had tried to kill Javier. She looked at the man’s lifeless face and vacant eyes. He had lost most of his hair, his face fleshy, his mouth gaping open. “No, I don’t. Should I?”

“He was Sean Michael Edwards, age forty-one,” Zach said.

Sean Michael Edwards.

The name sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t say why.

Zach went on. “DPD sent a team to do a search of his residence last night. They completed that search this morning, and what they found will interest both of you. In addition to an arsenal of
toy
firearms, we found an AR-15, an M110 sniper rifle, and two double-deuce pistols. We also found a wall covered with photos of you, Laura.”

“What?”
Laura’s stomach sank.

Javier gave her fingers a squeeze. “So he’s not just some random nut job. He’s a part of this somehow?”

“We can’t be sure of anything yet, but it certainly seems that he had an obsession with you. He had photos dating back three years. They’d been cut from newspapers and magazines and stuck on a bulletin board until they overlapped—dozens of them. Also, the rifle in the surveillance footage from the parking garage was an M110. It’s hard to imagine this could all be a coincidence.”

BOOK: Striking Distance
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