Navy Justice (Whidbey Island, Book 5) (13 page)

“Do we need to go over everything again?” Joy looked at the microwave clock. “I have to get to work. General, can Brad use your phone to call me when you two are done here?”

Grimes shrugged. “Leave him here all day. It’s as safe a place as any for now.”

* * *

“I’
LL
WALK
YOU
OUT
.” Brad was beside her in a flash. She suspected he didn’t want to give Grimes the chance to prevent their private conversation.

Back on the gravel driveway, Brad reached over and took her hand. “Thank you for what you’re doing.”

“No thanks needed. It’s the right thing to do. I have to admit I’m not thrilled about leaving you here with General Tough Guy.”

Brad chuckled. “He’s a badass, isn’t he? But there’s nothing to worry about. He’s wrong about Mike, you know. It’s his way of feeling involved when he’s not part of it anymore. I understand how he feels.”

“We both do. It’s never easy leaving the military, whether it’s after a few years or a lifetime.”

They stood in silence, gazing out over the wooded area around General’s deck.

Brad squeezed her hand. “Go. He’s more apt to say something useful with just me here.”

“I don’t disagree with that. He doesn’t like me.”

“He’s just as tough on me, Joy. He’s a ballbuster.”

“Maybe. Promise you’ll call me at the office if you need anything.” Her voice broke, and she blinked. Where were these emotions coming from?

She looked at the lines that radiated from the corners of his eyes, his sun-darkened skin, his rough beard. His placed his fingers under her chin, and she raised her head. She didn’t want him to see her tears but needed the eye contact.

“You’re the only person who’s ever done so much for me, Joy.”

“It’s my job.”

“Not now, it isn’t.” His gaze shifted to her lips.

“Brad, not here...”

He gave her a quick, firm kiss.

“I can damn well kiss you if that’s what we both want. We’re equals in this.”

* * *

J
OY
DROVE
TO
the office with the taste of Brad on her lips, grateful that she’d only be thirty minutes later than her start time of nine o’clock. Paul had given her a lot of leeway as a newbie and she was willing to take advantage of it. She used the showers allocated to the attorneys, since she didn’t want to waste time going back home to get ready. Fortunately, the small shower room was empty, and she was able to enjoy the hot water for a good ten minutes.

As she sat in front of her computer and worked on the firm’s caseload, her mind kept drifting back to the conversation with Grimes. The man had never been one of her favorites, but Brad was right. Grimes’s assessment of the situation was most likely correct.

She immediately picked up her desk phone when it rang two hours later. “Joy Alexander.”

“Joy, it’s Dennis. Your package arrived a few minutes ago. Do you want me to bring it to you?” Dennis’s voice was as steady as if he was talking about a book order and not classified information that she wasn’t privy to anymore. Well, only for the next few hours.

“No, I can come back to base.”

“I don’t think that’s the smartest course of action.”

“Oh?”

“We’re basically in lockdown until they find out who was responsible for the explosion. It’d take you an hour to get past the initial check at the gate.”

She put her hands in her lap and leaned back from her keyboard. Yesterday’s base security had already been tight. She couldn’t wait that long.

“Okay, I’ll have to meet you somewhere. What’s convenient for you?”

A brief pause. Odd, because Dennis had never been the type to hesitate.

“How about the parking lot near Deception Pass, right off the highway?”

Joy looked at her computer’s clock. “I can be there. What time?”

“Noon.”

Dennis ended the connection, and Joy replaced her phone. In less than an hour she might be able to crack open this case for Brad.

* * *

“I’
VE
COPIED
AND
pasted the pertinent parts. I didn’t want you to have anything that could get you in trouble, like the date and time stamps.”

They stood outside her car in the small lot for Deception Pass Park. Cars pulled in and out as other workers took advantage of the beautiful day to have impromptu picnics and walks.

Dennis was in running gear, no doubt using his lunchtime workout to bring her the case notes. He looked strong and fit, his fresh-faced attractiveness unmarred except for the small worry line between his brows.

She’d worked with Dennis long enough to know when he was stressed.

“Thank you so much, Dennis.” She reached through the car window, took the large envelope and placed it on her passenger seat.

“I just hope he’s worth it, Joy.” Sincerity reflected in the depths of his eyes and for about the hundredth time, Joy wished they’d had some kind of chemistry between them.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out for us, Dennis. You’re a true friend.”

“Aw, that seems to be my role in life. The male friend.” There wasn’t any self-pity in his comment. Only a self-deprecating smirk that revealed his own regret.

“You’re a good man. There’s a lucky woman out there who’s going to find you.”

They’d had so many discussions when they worked together—about life after the Navy, whether they wanted to have families, what their favorite pastimes were. In the end, Joy had resigned her commission, and Dennis had received the promotion she’d dreamed of getting when she’d started out.

“How’s the new job going so far?”

“I can’t say I’m, uh, completely immersed in it, not yet.”

Dennis nodded. “Understood. Promise me one thing, Joy.”

“Anything.”

“Let me know when you find whatever you’re searching for. And if it doesn’t work out with this guy, let me take you to dinner.”

“That’s two things, Dennis.”

“I mean it, Joy.”

“I know you do.” Impulsively she reached up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I’ll call you when all’s said and done.”

She walked around her car and slid into the driver’s side, looking back only once to see that Dennis was watching her car pull out.

Why couldn’t the nice, safe, steady guy be the one she had all that chemistry with? She turned onto Highway 20 and headed south toward Oak Harbor.

As a sailor she’d give her life for any of her shipmates, hands down. But as a civilian, as a woman with her heart on the line, there was only one man she’d consider risking it all for.

Brad.

CHAPTER TWELVE

H
ALFWAY
THROUGH
THE
AFTERNOON
, Joy slipped out to her car for her coffee break. She smiled at a couple of other office personnel who were out enjoying the day. Serena, too, was outside, seated on one of the patio chairs arranged on a side deck of their building. Built like a home, the legal office looked inviting, and yet it maintained an air of professionalism and quiet authority.

Leaving her windows down to enjoy the warm breeze, she thumbed through her old case notes, looking for her personal commentaries on Farid’s, Brad’s and Grimes’s statements. If she located her personal observations first, she’d be better able to compare them with their testimonies.

She wondered if the authorities were monitoring Dennis. It’d be a stretch, but with the explosion and the focus on terrorists, and his request for the files on another terrorist trial, it was possible he’d set off some sort of communications security trip wire. And it would be her fault.

He’d been smart by copying only what she needed and leaving his official copies on base. He could record the destruction of the files he had and send the report to headquarters. It wouldn’t be the first time a JAG had looked into a past case to double-check the facts. If necessary he could claim he’d asked for the wrong case numbers.

It didn’t take her long to reread her entries. At first glance, she didn’t think she had anything she could use.

“Secure the villages...”

Grimes’s words from this morning reverberated in her memory.

She scanned the court documents for Grimes’s statements on the witness stand. He’d kept his answers short and succinct, just as he had when she’d interviewed him beforehand. The mark of a flag officer—he was used to his subordinates hanging on his every word.

The hours talking to him, feeling as though she was talking to a brick wall, came rushing back. He’d been monosyllabic in his responses wherever possible. He’d never given her one damn personal insight into what had really gone on when his Marines had entered the villages shortly after Brad’s SEAL team had secured them and declared them safe.

Any GI who saw his buddy shot down by the enemy was bound to have a problem with local nationals. At least until that GI was away from the battle and able to sort out the difference between extremists and ordinary, law-abiding citizens.

And while Grimes had led troops into battle with a nearly perfect record, not all his troops were pristine examples of the United States Marine Corps. War crimes against civilians had, regrettably, been committed by both sides. Grimes was famous for routing out any Marine who didn’t live up to the highest moral standards expected by the Corps. Any illegal incidents had never touched Grimes’s career. They shouldn’t have; although he was accountable for all the actions of those under him, he couldn’t be held responsible for the behavior of a few rogue Marines. Surely he carried the weight of those disreputable actions in his heart, though.

As she continued to reread her notes, she realized that Brad, General Grimes and Mike had all replied with the same answer to any questions that concerned Farid’s village. Brad and Mike’s SEAL team had been instrumental in securing the village, but there was a lapse that evening, between the time they’d secured it and a full Marine force had come in and fortified what they’d accomplished. During those few hours, the Taliban had plundered the village.

“They told the villagers that if they were even suspected of talking to the Americans, their entire families would be tortured and killed.”—Lieutenant Michael J. Rubio, USN

“It was heartbreaking to see Farid’s entire extended family harmed in one fashion or another by the Taliban after we’d promised them they were safe.”—Senior Chief Petty Officer Bradley Iverson, USN

“It’s a peril of war. We can’t always protect those who need it most.”—Major General Jeremiah Grimes, USMC

Hands shaking, she highlighted her own written reactions. After the trial, she’d found out that the members of Farid’s family who’d survived had been given political refugee status and allowed entry to the US. Like Farid, they were offered safety under the WSP, but whether they’d accepted it or not she didn’t know.

She’d have to call Dennis and thank him profusely. He didn’t realize it, but by copying what he knew was pertinent, he’d helped her focus on an area that would’ve taken her hours to get to otherwise.

A chill of premonition raised goose bumps on her arms, despite the warmth of the car. Cracking the mystery of the international terrorist who was—presumably—behind this domestic cell wasn’t a job for sissies.

She longed for Brad to be here. She needed his expertise, wanted to bounce her thoughts off him. There was no one else she could trust to discuss this with...except for a former boss and mentor, Helen Bolling. But she hadn’t contacted Helen since she’d decided to resign her commission. Besides, this wasn’t anything she felt comfortable discussing over the phone.

“Great place for a break, isn’t it?” Paul’s voice yanked her from her disturbing thoughts, and she discovered him leaning into her open window. She smiled and tried to act nonchalant as she shoved her case notes into a plain canvas grocery tote.

“It’s fabulous. I didn’t know there was a place like this to eat lunch and work.” She jerked her thumb toward the deck as she raised her windows and opened her door.

Paul straightened as she got out of the car. “We had that put on this spring. Since so much of what we do is on laptops, I thought it’d be nice. Next year I’d like to add an awning, maybe screen it in, so we can use it when it rains, too.”

She managed a laugh.

“I’d love that at my house, too. I do have a sunroom, but I’m not planning to put screens in—too windy.”

“You’re on the shore, right?”

“Yes. I lucked out, that’s for sure. Found a smaller place that fit my budget.” Even so, it had taken most of her savings.

“It’s all in the timing.” They walked back to the building, and Joy felt like the lowest worm. Paul was the most gracious man, and he was her boss. She felt blessed. And how did she repay him?

By sneaking around and lying during her first couple of days on the job.

Back inside and sitting at her desk, she vowed to make a dent in her newly assigned caseload. Serena was still outside on the deck, and the office was blissfully quiet, unlike her mind. Joy became immersed in her civilian work, which was a welcome break after reliving the Norfolk case.

“Joy?” Serena called her from the office door, keeping her voice low.

“Hi, Serena. What’s up?”

“There are three men here to talk to you.” Serena took a half step into Joy’s office. “They’re some kind of law enforcement. FBI or maybe NCIS. They didn’t say.”

“Really? Okay.” Doing her best to look surprised, she got to her feet and smiled. “Probably about what happened offshore yesterday.”

Serena nodded. “You have a view of West Beach and the water, don’t you?”

“Yes. It’s usually a beautiful scene, but yesterday it was a little more exciting than usual.”

“They don’t seem to have learned anything new, at least according to CNN.”

“Are the agents in the conference room?”

“Yes.” Serena sat down at her desk. Joy wished she could explain it all to her; she seemed level-headed and didn’t have any of the emotional involvement that could be skewing Joy’s own judgment. She sighed. There’d be plenty of time for explanations later, after she and Brad had figured out the who and why of his predicament.

As she walked down the short hallway, she braced herself, trying to appear as noncommittal and professional as possible. There was a good chance one of the men in the conference room was Mike Rubio, whom she’d met in Norfolk, during the trial. Until she had more answers, everyone was a suspect.

She entered the firm’s meeting room. “Joy Alexander?” A tall blond man with dark eyes flashed his badge at her. Joy leaned in far enough to see that he was FBI.

“I’m Agent Barrett, and these are Agents Cruise and Gordon. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“Sure. Have a seat.” She sat in one of the leather-cushioned chairs, forcing them to sit, too. Reminding them that they were on her turf. Or her boss’s, at any rate.

“What is your relationship with Bradley Iverson?”

She blinked, tilted her head. Thank God for her interest in theater. She’d started to brush up on her skills lately, hoping for a role in one of the community performances once she was more settled. Otherwise she would’ve started to sweat.

“Do you mean Chief Iverson? The SEAL?”

Agent Barrett’s eyes narrowed, and she saw his nostrils flare. Not stupid, this one. He didn’t appreciate her playing stupid, either.

“Yes.”

Hoping to score points with the other two agents, she looked at each of them and smiled. “Is he always this warm and hospitable?”

Agent Cruise didn’t flinch, but she caught the twitch at the corner of Agent Gordon’s mouth.

Score!

“Answer the question, Ms. Alexander.”

She made a point of glancing at her watch. “Drawing on my Navy experience, shouldn’t you be asking these questions on base? Wouldn’t the base or persons related to the base be the obvious targets of a terrorist act?”

Agent Barrett didn’t move, but she had the distinct impression that he wished he could reach across the table and force her to focus on his questions.

She sighed audibly. “Yes, of course I know Brad. We worked together on the Farid case almost two years ago. He was getting out, wasn’t he? Said something about wanting to start his own business.”

It was scary, how easily the lies came once she started.

“A business?”

“Yes, he talked about a used bookstore that specialized in military history and fiction.”

“When was the last time you saw him, Ms. Alexander?” Agent Cruise’s jovial tone validated her guess that he was the “good cop.”

“Let’s see, we finished the case and I left Norfolk the next day. That was last year—maybe thirteen months ago.”

“We have reason to believe Iverson was near your property within the last twenty-four hours. Have you seen him?”

Agent Garrett wasn’t screwing around.

Neither was she. Not with Brad’s life. Or this op, which had undeniably become her op, too.

“Why would I see him? We’ve had no contact since the trial.”

“Did you witness anything out of the ordinary on the beach yesterday morning?”

“Besides two Growlers, a P-8 and a P-3 overflying my house, followed shortly after by an explosion that could be terrorist related? No.”

“Did you report what you saw, Ms. Alexander?” Agent Barrett’s method was familiar to her but no less annoying. She had the distinct impression that he suspected Brad had been in her home. But he had no evidence. The fake OHPD officers who’d shown up at her door had not seen Brad. Even a heat signature wasn’t proof that Brad had been the person staying at her place.

“Yes. I spoke to an officer from the Oak Harbor PD yesterday, right after I saw the explosion. Officer Katie Dade, if memory serves.” She looked at them as if that should end the conversation. Agent Barrett kept staring at her.

“Then I saw the media reports and realized I didn’t have anything to add to the observations—it seems we all saw the same thing.” Thank God General Grimes had flicked on his TV. She’d recognized several of her neighbors speaking to reporters.

“Did you notice anything unusual last night? Any attempt by anyone to enter your home?”

“No, except for the Oak Harbor Police Department showing up in the middle of the night, claiming they had reports of an assailant in the area. I told them I’d had no problems.”

At least that was truthful.

“OHPD?” Agent Cruise’s comment received a sharp look from Agent Barrett, while Agent Gordon’s face remained stoic.

Judging by their reactions, her assumption about the OHPD “team” who’d shown up at her door last night was correct. Moreover, they must’ve been FBI if these agents knew about it. Agencies didn’t always share information when it came to undercover ops. Hadn’t Brad said as much?

“Yes.” She kept still, playing the part of innocent bystander to the best of her ability.

Agent Barrett flipped a business card in front of her. “Call me if you remember anything else.”

“Will do.”

They all rose, and Joy smiled. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful, gentlemen.”

“Are you?” Agent Barrett’s eyes missed nothing. She wondered if he saw the route she’d already worked out in her mind to reach Brad. Hopefully before these guys got to him. Her concern over their taking Brad into custody, if only to get him back to his office in Seattle, remained paramount. She was determined to help him find his answers and close out this case before he had to go back to his desk job. She wanted him to be
able
to close out the case properly.

With the bad guys behind bars.

“Yes, Agent Barrett, I am.”

She held his gaze until he turned and left the room. Agent Cruise followed. Agent Gordon paused at the threshold and winked at her.

“It’s been a long two days,” he said.

Joy nodded and gave him an understanding smile.

Only after she was sure they were gone did she make a beeline for her desk. Her fingers burned to call Brad.

A memory of her and Brad hunched over Farid’s printed testimony flickered in her mind, and she found herself yearning for the synchronicity they’d experienced during the case. The two of them had been a solid team, and against all evidence to the contrary, they’d freed Farid. It was a shared history that would bind them forever, regardless of what happened over the next few hours and days.

But if Grimes was correct and Farid turned out to be a double agent, they’d both been duped. And they could both be dead before they had a chance to rectify their misjudgment.