Navy Justice (Whidbey Island, Book 5) (18 page)

Brad remained silent.

“Let’s go over what you remember from Monday morning.”

Brad’s anger seemed to emanate in waves off his body. Her hands longed to clasp his, to comfort him and let him know he wasn’t alone. That she was here for him, no matter what.

It’d been barely forty-eight hours. Yet she wasn’t the woman she’d been a week ago. Or two days ago.

She’d changed the minute Brad pushed open her kitchen door on Monday morning.

* * *

“Y
OU
NEVER
MAKE
things easy for anyone, Brad.”

“I don’t get paid to make things easy.”

Brad watched Mike’s expression go from angry to apologetic. He’d seen it before, whenever they’d been out in the field and an op was about to fall apart without any explanation. He’d been the one who’d talk then-Lieutenant Mike Rubio down from the ledge, remind him that they were a team and that the entire SEAL team would work together. He used to tell Mike he didn’t have to be such a damn loner. Now it was Mike talking to him as though Brad was the one about to explode.

Or implode.

“Tell me what happened.” Mike’s glance shifted to Joy, no longer dismissing her but still not completely trusting her. Brad clenched his fists. He didn’t like the almost uncontrollable protective urges he had around Joy. He’d worked with other women and been able to treat them as part of the Navy team, no problem. But Joy... Joy was different.

You’ve fallen for her.

“I don’t have to tell you anything.” His harsh words came out more in response to the war between his heart and his head than any annoyance with Mike, but he wasn’t about to back down.

“I can leave if you need me to. It’s not a problem.” She sat next to him, strong and steady.

“Stay, Joy.”

“Will I get a biscuit if I do?”

He couldn’t risk looking at her, not when he had to keep his focus on Mike.

“Can it, Joy.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” It was barely audible but loud enough. Even stone-faced Mike had to fight to hold back his grin—Brad saw his upper lip twitch.

“There’s not a lot to tell you, Mike. I thought I was in fine with the cell suspects. They were planning to recon the area, find the best places to get on base. I was going to call in a report Sunday night. But on Sunday afternoon they arranged an impromptu meeting. All of us. Together.”

“Together?” Mike’s eyebrows rose, and Brad saw that his boss and former shipmate finally got it.

“Yeah. I knew they were about to do something bigger, so I hedged my bets and went to the meeting. It was late at night on the beach and their faces were covered with hats and scarves, even in the heat wave.”

“Typical.”

“Yes. I stayed quiet unless spoken to directly. That’s how I’ve always done it. One of the guys, not the lead, mentioned that they’d found the house of the person they’d been searching for. Another guy said he couldn’t wait to finally tell their ‘chief’ that revenge for his family had been completed.”

Mike nodded. “Go on.”

“That’s when I had my team here run down all military personnel in the area who’d served over there, as you know. About a month ago.”

“And they came up with Grimes.” Mike spoke quietly, his initial indignant attitude gone.

“Right. I knew Grimes would be adequately protected once I called in, and I wanted to catch these dirtbags in the act. If I’d had even the slightest idea they had serious weapons that could take down an aircraft or incapacitate the Naval Air Station’s operations, I would’ve called for backup. Especially with the Naval exercise about to kick off.”

Mike sighed and leaned back, the first sign that he was as frustrated as Brad was by what they faced.

“How did you happen to be on the water at the same time as the shooter?”

“One of the suspects said he’d have an observation boat in the water by daybreak, from the boat launch on West Beach. The head honcho of this group told me to stay on the beach and watch what happened—and take a video of it. Somehow they’d learned about the exercise, but I don’t know their source. I assume they’d been eavesdropping on sailors at the local bars. I told them I’d hunker down on West Beach, posing as a photographer. They told me the video I captured would be critical to their success. I realized then that they were planning something big. With the way terrorists use social media these days, I figured that’s why my video was going to be so crucial.”

Mike whistled under his breath. “Did you get any video?”

“No. I stood watch all night, and when I saw one of the suspects pull up to the boat launch with a pickup and a small fishing boat, I followed him. He never knew I was there.”

Mike smiled and slapped his hand on the table, startling Joy.

“Hey, you’re the man!”

Brad nodded. “I think you know the rest. I had my rifle loaded and ready. When I saw the SAM I didn’t hesitate. As soon as the suspect picked it up and prepared to fire, I beat him to it. I shot at the missile first, to distract him. As soon as he’d dropped his aim toward the water, I killed him. The warhead still exploded but not in the air.”

Mike rubbed his face. “You saved at least a flight crew, Brad, and you made it out alive. More good news is that we caught the terrorists you’ve been embedded with.”

He felt Joy stiffen next to him and surreptitiously placed his hand on her thigh under the table.

“How?”

“Two were caught as they surveilled the perimeter of the Naval Air Station, and Canadian Customs apprehended the third at the border.”

“Why hasn’t this shown up on the news?”

“In case there are any more out there. We haven’t finished our debriefs yet.”

“Do you really think there are more? I never heard of any loner, and I was with these guys for six months. I think I would’ve heard if they had another accomplice.”

Mike grunted. “Remember, they operate individually first. The fact that they came together was a huge sign that they’re taking orders from a single source. I have to admit they’re some of the dumber suspects we’ve observed.”

“Still smart enough to kill innocents. And the question remains—how the hell did they get that SAM?”

“The Navy and US Customs are on it.” Mike didn’t have to say the CIA was involved. They all knew it and knew not to mention it.

They sat quietly, everyone except Joy, who drummed her fingers against her porcelain mug.

“I have good news, Brad. You’re free to go, buddy. Once you debrief the team on the base, you’re done with the op and you can report back to the office. I’d suggest you take some leave. You’ll need it once you come off the adrenaline rush.”

“That’s it? All that work, months undercover, and Brad’s free to walk out of here? He’s not at any risk?” Joy’s voice was incredulous, and she gripped the side of the kitchen table. He recognized the defense mechanism; he did it, too, whenever he had to stop his hands from shaking.

“Joy, it’s okay.” She didn’t understand that closing a case was often anticlimactic.

“No, it’s not okay! Please tell me the FBI has a decent debrief for this man who saved your ass by putting
his
at risk. All so he could take down what you call the terrorist ‘B’ team. Tell him that he’s one hundred percent safe. Guarantee that he’ll not be held liable for anything that happened, and that his name won’t be dragged through the mud. That there still isn’t some crazy out there waiting to get him.”

Joy’s eyes sparked with anger at Mike, and Brad would have laughed if she wasn’t so serious. For his part, Mike played it cool. “Your concerns are reasonable, Joy, but it’s in Brad’s job description. He’s better than anyone else at it, and he’s certainly aware of the risks involved.”

“It’s okay, Joy,” Brad said again. “Really.” He attempted to put his hand on her arm, but she pushed her chair back and shook off his arm.

“I can see that neither of you needs my services at this point. Brad, you know where everything is. Help yourself to whatever. I’ve got a new job to get to.”

* * *

H
E
WATCHED
J
OY
all but stomp out of the room.

“Some real interesting tension between you two, huh?”

“Go to hell, Mike.”

They were back on friendly terms, which was a relief to Brad.

“I didn’t know if you trusted me, Mike. Not considering how quickly it could’ve gone bad. I never expected the SAM.”

“Stop beating yourself up. None of us saw it coming. We’ve always known it’s a possibility, but still...” Mike stood beside him as they looked out from the sunroom over West Beach. Joy was still doing whatever last-minute prep she needed before she went to the law firm.

He wondered if that included sticking pins in an effigy of him. He could’ve told her more, given her more details, but he’d had good reason not to reveal everything. Sometimes the less you knew in this business, the better.

He looked back at Mike. “It did turn on a dime, but that’s nothing we haven’t faced before, right?”

Mike ran his hand through his hair, and Brad wanted to tease him about how much longer it was than when they’d done SEAL ops. He didn’t have a leg to stand on, though, since his was inordinately long for undercover work.

“Like I told you, I was afraid I’d really lost you for a while there, Brad.”

“What made you realize you hadn’t?”

“I didn’t think you were so stupid as to be in a boat with a SAM. NCIS sent out a report that concluded the SAM’s warhead had been detonated before it launched. I put my money on your sharpshooter skills.”

“Who apprehended the cell members?”

“Two guys from your team, along with several local LEA agents and officers. I had to convince them you were alive, to keep anyone from losing it when they took the cell into custody.”

Brad suppressed a grin. “That’s my team.”

“Once we figured out that Joy Alexander lived close to where your cell phone went missing, it wasn’t exactly a challenge to find you.”

“Then you sent out that ragtag group of LEA posing as Oak Harbor PD to Joy’s door.”

Mike grinned. “She’s a bulldog, Brad. They said she looked like she was gonna tear them limb from limb.”

“I’ll bet she did. But still, how could you be so sure she’d help me out?”

“She went out on a limb for you before, remember? And you’ve never talked about her. You always talk about the women you meet
unless
they mean something to you.”

Brad let Mike’s observation sit for a moment.

“So your time with Joy—has it brought up anything other than memories of Norfolk? And I’m not talking about the case.”

“No, nothing. We’re not like that, Mike.” Mike would know he was lying but he said it anyway. Mike would understand that it was too touchy to talk about. “I respect her and felt I could trust her. That’s why I came here. We’re friends. She’s on her civilian career path now.”

“So are you.”

“Who are you trying to kid? I don’t call working for the Bureau a civvie job, and you don’t, either.”

“I’ve been thinking it’s time to make some changes. Not with my job, but my personal life.” Mike never spoke about his personal life. Neither of them had ever had much of one, and whenever they did, it hadn’t worked out.

“Have you met someone?”

Mike shook his head. “No, no one who’d have me. Yet. When you were out there, and I thought this could be the one time you didn’t come back, I realized that I don’t want to wake up twenty years from now and have nothing to show for it except my job.”

“It’s a damn fine job.”

“It is, it is. But it doesn’t keep me warm at night, and it doesn’t carry on my family name.”

“Mike, I do believe you’ve taken a hit to the head.”

“Brad,
you
need
a hit to the head. If you let Joy get away...”

“That ship’s not even going to leave the pier, buddy. It’s not going to work.”

They stood for a few more minutes, during which Brad heard the familiar sound of Joy’s heels clicking on the hardwood floors. She didn’t come into the sunroom, though. The next thing he heard was her front door opening and then closing.

She hadn’t even said goodbye.

She was obviously ready to let him move on.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

J
OY
WATCHED
P
AUL
speak to the staff and wondered how quickly he’d fire her if he knew she’d harbored a potential fugitive this past week, and that she’d had confidential government case files in her possession.

“Our workload has increased exponentially since last year, and it shows no sign of slowing down.” Paul’s tone was factual, without a hint of pride or arrogance. She really liked her new boss.

Uncomfortable with her questionable moral standing, she turned to look out the huge picture window in the conference room. Sunlight fell through the tall firs and created intricate patterns on the mossy ground. Whidbey was never short on soul-restoring scenery.

How could it be only a few days ago that this had been the long-sought conclusion of her search for a home, a community, a place to finally settle?

Since Brad had shown up, she’d begun to question everything she’d done over the past year. More important, what she
hadn’t
done.

“Because of the increase in construction, our real estate group is going to need extra help. I’m planning to hire two more attorneys over the next six months.”

“What’s the reason for the increase?” She had to at least appear to be paying attention.

Paul nodded toward her. “Glad you asked, Joy. It’s the local real estate market. Between new-builds and sales, Whidbey is booming again. There are always rumors that the base could close, but for the foreseeable future, we’re looking good.”

Base closure.

It was a worry in hard economic times, and whenever politicians needed a way to trim the budget. If the base closed, so many other businesses would be at risk, including Paul’s law firm.

“The local community would never let the Naval Air Station go without a huge fight.” Serena sounded thoughtful. She’d been through a lot, first as an Army wife, then an Army widow and single mother. Now she’d found new happiness as a Navy wife. For several years, her life hadn’t been easy. Maybe Joy didn’t have it so bad.

“Exactly.” Paul stood up.

“That’s it for this morning. Everyone clear on what they need to get done before the end of the week? Remember, I don’t want anyone in the office on Friday. I want you to take a long Labor Day weekend. Come back on Tuesday ready to hit it hard.”

Murmured affirmations from the staff seated around the oak table reminded Joy of all-officer meetings, AOMs, in the Navy. The difference was that here no one felt obligated to rise when Paul did, or to tell him what they thought he wanted to hear. He paid his staff—attorneys and administrative—to be honest with their opinions. She’d been fortunate, as she’d had commanding officers who were solid. They hadn’t needed ego-stroking or sugar-coated reports. Of course, she’d been a JAG, and the JAG Corps was a bit different from the rest of the Navy. Their job was to keep the Navy justice system running smoothly, all in support of the operators—those who flew the aircraft and drove the ships. The men and women who were the backbone of the Navy.

She quickly called Dennis, but his voice mail picked up. “Dennis, it’s Joy. I want to thank you for everything, and to tell you that the suspects have been apprehended. My person of interest is free and clear. There’s nothing left to be concerned about.”

Saying anything more specific in a recorded message was ill-advised, and besides, Dennis understood her well enough to know she destroyed the notes he’d given her.

Her coffee had gone cold, but she didn’t want to take the time to get a fresh one. She told Dennis the case was over.
Was
it? Her chance to form any kind of relationship with Brad certainly seemed to be.

What would Helen do?

The sudden thought made her stomach flip-flop. That reaction was followed by a rush of relief.

Of course!

Her first boss had been a “mere” lieutenant commander during Joy’s initial JAG tour. Helen Bolling. Unlike Joy, Helen hadn’t gone to the academy, and she’d had a successful civilian legal career before she joined the Navy. She’d come into the JAG Corps hoping not only to serve but also to see the world and had ended up on the fast track to admiral. Helen had pinned on her second star two months ago.

Helen could expect to be appointed to the highest position a JAG could hold.

Yes, she could call Helen, who knew Joy better than anyone professionally—and had also become a good friend. She could be counted on to have useful insights into Joy’s reluctance to believe the case was closed simply because the known members of the terrorist cell had been placed in custody.

But would she be putting her mentor and friend on the spot?

A quick internet search and a few phone calls later, Joy ascertained where Helen would be for the weekend and planned to meet her there. Helen’s schedule was tight, so it was up to Joy to go to her. The long weekend Paul was giving his staff was the perfect opportunity.

She fingered the printout of the electronic airline ticket she’d just purchased. Maybe the ability to request someone’s help had started when she’d had to ask Dennis to get her the case files. It wasn’t so daunting, after all.

* * *

B
RAD
LEFT
THE
NCIS office at the Naval Air Station around lunchtime and drove toward Joy’s office, his heart pounding.

After Mike had driven off, Brad had spent the morning with the dedicated NCIS agents and local LEAs they’d called in for his debrief. A debrief was paramount; it ensured that everyone had the same updated information about the suspects and their apprehension and what they knew about each step of their thankfully failed operation. Yet this morning had dragged like no other, and when it looked as though it might spill over into an afternoon of war stories, Brad pulled his trump card.

“I’m beat, guys. I’ve got to get back to my place in Seattle and to the office before close of business today. I can come back up next week or you can send me a text with anything else you think of.”

All eyes were on him. The younger agents and police officers nodded, eager to show that they understood what he’d been through.

The more seasoned vets looked down at their notepads and phones, making sure they hadn’t missed anything. They knew that as soon as Brad left, this op would become one of many in his mind. The crispness of the facts and the nuances of the case would fade away.

They could miss something that might prove fatal later on, like an additional thread of the investigation they’d skipped entirely.

Still, he held the winning hand with his exhaustion plea. And they already had three of the bad guys in custody.

“How soon will the suspects be brought to trial, in your estimation?” The head of Whidbey NCIS asked the question, his gaze frank. Like Brad, he was experienced.

“This will move more quickly than other criminal cases, you know that. Terrorism charges go to the front of the judicial line.” Lots of head nodding, men and women sipping coffee. Brad knew how they felt; he knew they had a new sense of purpose.

“On behalf of the FBI, I have to thank all of you for your cooperation. From everything I’ve heard and seen, this entire team has worked together flawlessly. Well-done.”

“Thank
you
for your work, Agent Iverson.” A young female NCIS agent spoke up, her gaze inquisitive. “It had to be a hardship going undercover for so many months and then hiding out these past few days.”

“All part of the job. But you’re welcome. Any further questions for me?”

Prayers hadn’t been in his repertoire since he’d lived with Marci’s addiction to drugs, but damned if he wasn’t saying a silent prayer that none of them had any more questions or comments.

“No? Great.” He stood up and made a point of shaking the hand of every officer present.

They’d done a good job, and he was again reminded why he’d sworn an oath to the FBI after having served for so many years as a SEAL. This was what it was about—keeping everyone safe, military, law enforcement and, of course, the public at large. Problem was, he was tired of it all. It was a slow ache in his bones, one that didn’t come from the fatigue or emotions of the past few months and days.

It wasn’t burnout. He’d had that, too, and come back from it more than once.

The way he felt now was an intuitive understanding that he was done with this kind of work. For whatever reason, his life’s path needed to change.

You know the reason
.

He had to be crazy, but since Mike had pronounced the case more or less closed, he hadn’t been able to think about anyone or anything other than Joy. About what he had to do to make a fresh start with her.

As he closed the distance to her office in General Grimes’s Wrangler, he told himself,
You have to do this right
.

He couldn’t go to Joy and say “hey, the case is closed, let’s get together.” She deserved to be wooed, to be treated like the woman she was. Full of integrity. Honest. Funny. Sexy as hell. Beautiful.

“Well, son of a bitch.”

Gravel spewed from under the Jeep’s tires as he made an immediate U-turn and headed back to Deception Pass Bridge. Off the island, toward Seattle.

* * *

“T
HANKS
FOR
MEETING
me on such short notice, Em.”

They sat at the diner on Highway 20 that specialized in grilled cedar plank salmon sandwiches with its own secret roasted red pepper sauce. Sunlight warmed her back as a gentle but chilly breeze came in off the Sound. The rays made Emily’s eyes seem luminous, almost angelic.

She’d proven to be an angel to Joy on numerous occasions over the past two years.

“I’m just glad I had the time off today. I’m on a three-day break, which, believe me, I need.”

“What’s going on?”

“Work’s been insane. You know the theory that more babies are conceived during a rough winter because people are stuck at home? Well, last year was no exception. All those cold winter nights are being celebrated in Labor and Delivery.”

Joy laughed. “How many babies are you delivering?”

“Usually it’s eight to ten a week, give or take. The last two weeks we’ve delivered thirty-two.”

“Wow! Sounds intense. I’ll stick to my files.”

“Yes, but I get to see the happy side of it, with the start of a new life. You have to deal with the not-so-nice parts of divorce and the ensuing child custody issues.”

“True, but when your job goes bad...” She didn’t want to finish her comment. Naval Hospital Oak Harbor and Em had suffered a terrible loss last spring when a baby didn’t make it.

“Well, that’s part of my job, too. When that happens—yes, it’s very, very sad.”

“Too risky for me. I like to know everything’s going to be okay.”

“You don’t look like it’s all okay right now. Want to tell me what’s up?”

Joy pushed her sweet potato fries around in the paper-lined basket. Even her favorite junk food wasn’t enough to lift her spirits.

“I was helping a friend, a colleague I worked with in Norfolk during a tough trial two years ago. He was here taking care of some...business he had on island. He’s based in Seattle.” She wasn’t sure how much to say about the terrorist cell; nothing was the best option, since she didn’t want to reveal anything she shouldn’t.

“And?”

“Well, he and I, we...”

Em waited.

Joy gave in and told her the truth.

“I think I care a lot about him. And I thought he might care about me. But now his op is over and he’s gone, and I’m not sure I’ll hear from him again. Just like before.”

“His
op
?
Like before?
”

Briefly, Joy filled Em in on what had happened between her and Brad since Norfolk. She explained that Brad was FBI—that couldn’t hurt. Joy told her everything, including her own feelings for Brad, hoping against hope that Em might help her understand, decide what to do. Help her see that Brad wasn’t the man she needed. See that she had to cut her losses and move on.

When she finished, she took a deep breath and an equally big gulp of her iced tea. “So, what are you hearing me say?”

Em put her sandwich down, wiped her mouth and folded her hands in front of her.

“Joy, how old are you?”

“Um, thirty-four. But I don’t see how that’s relevant. Brad’s the same age.”

“I get the sense that you can’t or don’t want to share everything he’s doing work-wise. That’s fine. But honestly, it’s the twenty-first century, and there’s this new way of finding out whatever you need to know about practically anything or anyone.”

“If you tell me to go to counseling, I’m going to scream.”

“Nothing that complicated, Joy. You can find out where he lives—use the information you have—and just show up. You don’t know why he’s not reaching out, but from what you’ve told me, my bet is that he believes he’s protecting you from something. His life, his job, maybe his crazy personality.” Emily pointed a finger at Joy. “Because let’s get real. You have to have some crazy in you to even
think
about being a SEAL. And he was one for how long?”

“Fifteen years?” She wasn’t exactly sure. Discomfort at how little she knew about this man she’d been ready to give up everything for made her skin crawl.

“Go find him, Joy. Show up at his doorstep if you can. Rock his world. Let him know you’re not going anywhere. A guy like that isn’t used to a woman who’s willing to be there for him through thick and thin. He’s gun-shy, sweetie. That’s all.”

“A gun-shy former SEAL and current FBI agent?”

Emily didn’t budge. “You know what I’m talking about. How many Navy guys have you dated, Joy?”

“Several dozen. It’s why I don’t want a relationship with one.”

“
Seriously
dated, I mean. One drink during happy hour doesn’t count.”

Joy groaned. Emily was always so exacting in her discussions, whether the conversation was about a knitting stitch or about men.

“One or two, maybe three. There were some civilian guys in there, too.”

“Let’s focus on the military guys, and you’ve worked alongside them for as long as I have. They act one way at work, but off duty, alone, they’re a different animal. Statistics show that most of them are actually introverts.”