Awaken to Danger (10 page)

view—no ratty Nike runners, but rather
leather loafers?

Not the standard student gear around this school. So where was Billy Wade?

The male stood, Special Agent David Reis emerging from behind the cubicle wall. The last person she

expected to see here, and one guaranteed to scare the bejesus out of her.

Her stomach bolted up to her throat. What was he doing
here?
And on a Saturday?

Willing her nerves to settle, she dropped her grade book, papers and text on the table to give herself an

extra second to regain her composure around the investigator. Thank God he didn't have handcuffs in

sight.

"Is there something I can help you with, Agent Reis? Did you receive the e-mail I sent to your office with

a list of all Gary's friends?" Babbling. Not good, but she couldn't stop the tumble of words from her

mouth. "I also forwarded a copy of the post Gary sent me that night, inviting me to join him at

Beachcombers."

"I got it, but that's not what I'm here for." Reaching back behind the cube wall, he lifted a paper bag.

"Here is your purse back. I'm sorry to say we have to keep your clothes for evidence."

And why bring it here? Unease tickled up her spine in spite of the lack of handcuffs. She took the sack

grateful they'd let her have her credit cards and license that first day. Her clothes, however, they could

keep forever. "I could have come to the base to pick it up."

"Thought I would save you the trip since I already had business out this way." He shoved his hands in his

pockets, fished out a pack of gum, offering her a piece—she shook her head—before folding a stick in

his mouth. All the while, he never took his eyes off her.

She resisted the urge to fidget like a bug under a science lab microscope. But wait? He already had

business out here? "You've been questioning people I work with?"

"That bothers you?"

"Of course it does." She tossed the sack onto the round table with such force it slid to a stop against her

grade book. "I've already been put on a leave of absence at the junior high because of this mess. I need

my work back—"

"I'm sorry for any financial inconvenience."

His expressionless stare reminded her of a circling shark peering through that microscope, and sheesh

what a mixed-up image that was. She really needed to air out her brain before she returned to work

full-time.

And to do that, she needed to help Agent Reis however she could. "It's not about the money. It's about

my students who need consistency. It's about how much I love my job."

"It's also about a man who lost his life."

"I understand that better than most, wouldn't you think?"

"Then you'll appreciate why I'm here." His shark stare warmed with a hint of human compassion.

"Actually, coming here could well clear you."

"Clear me? Gary never came here."

"As I told your major friend when he came to my office, I have to consider that someone may have gone

after Owens because of you."

As much as she wanted to rejoice over any option that cleared her, she cringed to think that she could

have caused Gary's death, even inadvertently. "Who? I can hardly wrap my head around this."

"I can't discuss details of an ongoing investigation."

Even being a suspect brought such a total lack of privacy she felt exposed. Her hands twitched to check

her sapphire button-down shirt with her black slacks. She hated the vulnerable gesture, the near

irrepressible need to be sure she was totally covered.

She forced her hands back to her sides and hoped Reis hadn't noticed—only to realize the shark-eyed

investigator hadn't missed a thing. In fact his gaze was still locked on her clothes.

On her body?

Okay, now she was totally feeling exposed and completely freaked out. He couldn't be interested in her.

Could he?

He was an intriguing man, no doubt, handsome in a dark and serious kind of way. Which made him

completely not her type since apparently she had a real weak spot for fair-headed charmers. But how did

she discourage this guy without embarrassing both of them? Provided she was even reading him right.

Thank God Billy Wade Watkins chose that moment to amble through the library entrance, silver chains

on his baggy clothes jangling. "Ms. Price? Sorry I'm late. I had to drop off my dad at some church

meeting thing so I could use the truck."

"Over here, Billy Wade." She backed away from the investigator. "Agent Reis, thank you for bringing my

things, but I have to get to work."

"Of course. Let me know if you remember anything more." He leaned closer, his eyes over her shoulder.

"Be careful. Schools aren't the safest places to hang out these days."

He brushed around and past, leaving behind his Double-mint gum scent and unwelcome doubts about her

students, as well as questions about that whole strange once-over moment from Reis that still totally

creeped her out. She'd been so looking forward to this tutoring session, yet suddenly she wanted nothing

more than to rake pine straw with Carson.

And that unsettled her as much as the prospect of Reis prying in her personal life.

* * *

cracker in exchange. If only adults were as easy to figure out as the pint-size versions. "There ya' go,

kiddo."

The chubby-cheeked child snatched the treat and shoved it into his mouth in a shower of crumbs and

cuteness. Carson ruffled the fella's dark curls, wiped the drool off the dog tag and climbed back up the

ladder in the Price kitchen to replace the battery on the smoke detector.

He'd already checked every battery, furnace filter, window and door lock, and still it wasn't enough.

Nothing would be enough until Nikki was in the clear and he knew exactly what happened the night Gary

Owens died.

So he worked to fix what he could.

After leaving Nikki and her too-tempting rake, he'd run himself into a stupor until three in the morning.

Not that sleep came easy with her eyes haunting the back of his eyelids. By sunrise, he'd decided his idea

to spend more time with her may have been ill-advised. He would return to his original plan to check in

with her family and Reis.

Except halfway to the marina for a day of sailing, he'd turned toward her parents' place to ask her to join

him—just to keep her occupied and cheer her up after her forced sabbatical. Right.

Wrong.

Jesus. He hadn't been led around by his libido like this since high school. Still he waited for Nikki rather

than simply leaving. And actually, hanging out with her mama and short stuff wasn't a great hardship. He

suspected there were a lot of clues to what made Nikki tick to be found in this ivy-stenciled kitchen.

Rena reached into the cabinet and pulled down two Mason jars like the others perched on her

windowsill. Water and plant clippings filled each glass container, some stems sprouting new root webs.

"You're really going above and beyond in your acting commander duties."

He folded the ladder and propped it beside the fridge.

"The squadron's only at half power with the rest deployed overseas." This house brimmed with so much

life—plants, kid, pregnancy, even rising bread—he could hardly take it all in.
Take.
He hated that word

and was trying his damnedest not to be a
taker
like his parents.

She twisted on the faucet and slid a jar underneath the gushing flow. "Even at half power, you're still

dealing with quite a load if you're giving everyone this much individual attention."

Of course she would know better. He was doing his job and pulling overtime, but even that didn't involve

multiple home visits in a week. "These are extraordinary circumstances. Besides, J.T. and I have history

from crewing together. He would look out for my family in the same way—if I had one."

Out of smoke detectors and furnace filters to fix, he dropped his restless butt at the table. For years he'd

never questioned his decision to stay single, but parked in this kitchen, he couldn't ignore the regret

tugging at him as strongly as the toddler yanking on the dog tag on his boot again.

The water overflowed. "Do we have reason to worry about Nikki?"

He held out his hands to the little guy on the floor to buy himself time to think. Plunking the kid on his

knee, Carson tugged the dog tags from around his neck and passed them over. "I wish I had the answer

to that one, Rena, but I honestly don't know."

She shuffled the jar to the counter and filled the other, then tossed two fern clippings inside before placing

them on the sill. "She only tells me the basics about what happened with Gary Owens, so I worry all the

more."

"The OSI agent leading the investigation seems sharp."

Rena sank into a chair across from him, nudging a line of tiny Tonka trucks across the table toward her

son who ignored them in favor of his new favorite teething toy—dog tags. "So the worst that could

happen is that Nikki—" she paused, swallowed, then continued "—killed him in self-defense as opposed

to an accidental death."

The worst? Someone could be gunning for her, far worse.

And there were two women and a child here with just a college kid for protection. He didn't like this at

all. To hell with worrying about treading warily while rebuilding a friendship. Damn straight he was

concerned and he intended to talk to Reis about protection options. This would be easier if Rena and J.

T. Price lived on base, except this whole mess had started on base. So if someone else had killed

Owens, that someone had access to military installations.

All serious concerns, ones a pregnant woman didn't need. He studied her face as she rubbed her swelling

belly.

"How are you feeling?"

She swung her feet up onto a spare chair. "Like I'll go stir-crazy sitting still for four more months."

"Seems to me there's plenty going on around here." He slid a discarded piece of junk mail across the

table and started folding. "Don'tcha think, little guy?"

Jamie flashed him a gummy grin broken only by a few baby teeth and the remnants of graham cracker.

Damn he was cute with all that dark hair and those saucer-wide dark eyes, in fact resembled the baby

pictures of Nikki packing the house.

"You're good with children." Rena interrupted his thoughts.

Uh-oh. He knew that matchmaking tone well. He folded faster. "Uncle on-the-job training."

"You'll be a good father someday once you find that right woman."

He needed to put a stop to this line of conversation as quickly and politely as possible. He cranked a

smile. "Why do all women assume a man's only single because he hasn't met the right woman?"

Her face pinked in sync with her embarrassed grimace.

"I'm sorry. That was presumptuous of me. Blame it on the inquisitive counselor not getting to log in those

hours at work—" The phone chirped from the wall, interrupting whatever else she'd been planning to say.

Passing the kid the folded paper airplane to keep him quiet while Rena talked, Carson used the moment

to gather his thoughts before the woman managed to wrench God-only-knew what else out of him. He

definitely had too many secrets to let down his guard around her. He'd all but forgotten she was a shrink,

she'd put him so at ease. Probably why she was reputed to be such a good one.

After the shoot-down and rescue in the Middle East, he'd been evaluated at a base in Germany. He'd

managed to sidestep the head examiners over there, a skill honed in his childhood.

Hindsight showed him his mistake. His alcoholism had flared after his return until he'd hooked up with

A.A.

However sharing details in a therapeutic setting was totally different than spilling his guts to Rena Price.

He was coming to terms with his childhood, but that didn't mean he wanted to take out a billboard about

all his neglectful parents had forgotten to do for him and all the things their coked-up friends had tried to

do
to
him. He couldn't understand how his sister managed to trust her genes enough to marry, much less

procreate.

Procreate?

He could almost hear Nikki teasing him for his stuffy word choice. She was every bit as full of humor and

life as this house.

Rena tucked the cordless phone under her chin and reached for Jamie, clutching him close with an

urgency that spoke of maternal fear. "I'll track down your brother to pick you up, sweetie."

Pick Nikki up? "What's wrong?"

She fished the paper airplane out of Jamie's mouth, hugging him tight again. "Nikki's stranded at the high

school, car trouble."

Relief slammed through him. A simple spark plug or flooded car. Except wait, J. T. Price, a proficient

mechanic, had taught his kids well. Premonition pricked a second before Rena continued.

"Someone slashed Nikki's tires."

* * *

pitiful little truck with its deflated tires, currently being loaded on a flatbed tow truck.

Billy Wade shuffled from foot to foot, his baggy clothes defying gravity by staying on his body in spite of