One of the Boys (7 page)

Maura found herself caught up in the excitement and cheered as loudly as any of the onlookers when the teams raced out onto the field, laid out the heavy hoses and aimed pressurized streams at targets well down the field. Vehicle maneuvering followed the hose-laying contest, then pole climbing. Sweltering
in their protective gear and laden with ropes and axes and oxygen bottles, the firefighters scrambled up poles in the ninety-degree heat. Watching them gave Maura a new appreciation of the rigorous training these men and women had to endure.

Recalling the image of two heavily suited rescue personnel climbing up to release Jake from the Stealth canopy, she shivered and hoped she never had to see these fire-protection personnel in anything other than a friendly contest again.

 

At midafternoon they wandered back to the center of the festival grounds. Jake stopped at a booth and insisted on making a purchase.

“Your nose is getting red.”

He leaned down to give the body part under discussion a quick kiss, then settled a gray-blue visor on her forehead. The logo depicted a large, dancing fish with knife and fork in one fin and a pennant proclaiming this year's Mullet Festival the best ever in the other.

“Thank you. I'll treasure this forever.” Laughing, Maura surveyed the souvenir booth. “You could use a little cover yourself. Here, try this one.”

The straw Stetson fit perfectly. It also shaded Jake's eyes and cast the high angles of his cheeks into sharp relief. Maura gulped at the picture of pure masculinity he made.

She insisted on paying for the hat, informing him
that she'd decided to take his conservative wardrobe in hand, and this was the first step.

Jake linked his arm through hers and they headed for the central pavilion for the introduction of honored guests. The senior commanders from the base were onstage, as well as the local politicians and, of course, the Mullet Festival Princess and her court. Since this was an election year, the dignitaries' comments tended to take on a distinctly campaigning flavor.

After the speeches, the guests dispersed to mingle with the crowd. Some time later a surprisingly talented vocal group from the local community college summer program gave a medley of “golden oldies.” Jake swept her into his arms, and as they swayed to the music, Maura marveled at her contentment.

A few short months ago, she would never have pictured herself dancing to the dreamy strains of “Deep Purple” on a swept dirt dance floor while afternoon sunlight filtered through tall, spindly pines. Closing her eyes, she let her head drift down to a warm, muscled shoulder. She felt cocooned in a web of happiness, part of, yet apart from, the cheerful, sweaty crowd that jostled around them. Tightening her arm around Jake's neck, Maura fit her body into his.

 

They spent the rest of the afternoon at the festival. Lisa checked in, then disappeared once more
with Tony. The shy glow in his daughter's eyes had overcome Jake's reservations about her companion.

A tired, contented trio headed home after a late supper of more hush puppies and, of course, mullet. Maura had a napkin-wrapped chunk of leftovers in her purse for Bea, and the scent of fried fish filled the Jeep as they wound their way out of the traffic.

Jake headed for his bayside house to drop Lisa off first. Maura was entertaining fantasies about a late-night repeat of their spectacular performance in the cool waters of the bay when they pulled up behind a rental car parked in Jake's circular driveway.

“Who's that?” Lisa asked.

“I don't know,” her father replied, then blinked in surprise as a slender, petite brunette opened the front door.

“Hello, Jake. I hope you don't mind. I let myself in.”

“Mom!” Lisa jumped out of the Jeep and threw her arms around the smiling woman. “What are you doing here?”

“I was at a regional auction in Mobile, so I thought I would drive over and see how you're doing. I miss you, sweetheart.”

Maura held back while Jake and Lisa greeted their unexpected visitor. Suddenly she could feel every drop of dried perspiration and every particle of dust she'd acquired during the long, hot day. Beside this exquisitely groomed woman in her white linen pantsuit and gold jewelry, she felt clumsy and definitely worse for wear. Nor did it help when the newcom
er's slightly mocking gaze slid from Maura's fish-bedecked visor to Jake's straw hat.

“Going native, darling?” she asked with a bland smile.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. And enjoying it. Anne, I'd like you to meet an associate of mine, Dr. Maura Phillips.”

Anne McAllister's penciled brows arched delicately at the title. Obviously Maura didn't quite fit her image of a physician, or any other kind of doctor. Resisting the urge to wipe her sweaty palm on her skirt, Maura held out her hand. She also managed not to squeeze Anne's limp fingers, although she detested weak-wristed, two-fingered handshakes.

In fact, Maura thought as she ran her eyes over the brunette's slim figure and stark, high-cheeked beauty, there wasn't a whole lot about this woman she liked at all. Recognizing pure, unadulterated jealousy for what it was, Maura gave herself a mental shake.

“How long are you staying, Mom?” Lisa asked eagerly. “I've got lots and lots to tell you.”

“Just this evening. I thought we might all have dinner together.” Her glance swept over the trio. “If you don't have other plans, Jake.”

“We've already had dinner, but we'll go with you if you haven't eaten yet,” he replied easily. “You don't mind a late dessert, do you, Maura?”

“Oh, no, Jake. You three have lots to talk about. I'll just go on home.”

There was no way she intended to share a table in some restaurant with this elegant woman. Not in her dusty clothes and displaying her shiny, sunburned nose.

Both Jake and Lisa tried to convince her to join them, but she resisted. “Seriously, after all that mullet, the only activity I can handle now is lying in the lounger on my back patio.”

Jake conceded with good grace. “I'll take Maura home and be back shortly,” he informed mother and daughter.

The atmosphere in the Jeep was considerably different from that of a quarter hour ago. Jake was distracted, and Maura felt a curl of unaccustomed jealousy.

“She's lovely,” she finally offered, as much to break the silence as to give in to that perverse need to scratch a fresh sore.

“I suppose so.”

She scratched a bit more. “So how long were you married?”

“Almost twelve years.”

“Does it still hurt? The divorce?”

“At times.” His voice was low, reluctant. “Anne and I stopped loving each other long ago. What hurts is knowing that two reasonably intelligent adults who started out caring so much for each other could let their feelings just…drift away. We didn't even realize they were gone until it was too late.”

The sore was open and running now. Maura wrapped one arm tightly around her waist.

“I was too busy to see it coming,” Jake admitted. “I went from test-pilot school to flying secret missions at a classified site, and then to the Pentagon. If I had any time with Anne and Lisa on Sunday afternoons, it was a rare occasion. It took me a long time to realize I was getting more fulfillment from the air force than from my marriage.”

He stared out the windshield, as if seeing the years behind instead of the road ahead.

“Anne was just as busy. She started her own antique business and built it into an exclusive consulting service. When I left the Pentagon, she decided to stay in Virginia. She'd acquired a distinguished clientele and enjoyed her work. More than she enjoyed our marriage. More than either of us enjoyed it by then.”

“So you both used work as a substitute for love.”

“Guess we did.”

“Even then, it must have been so hard to end the marriage. There was Lisa….”

“Yes.”

“And all you and Anne had invested in each other. I can't imagine how difficult it was to pull up stakes and start over.”

Jake glanced sideways, a faint smile lifting one corner of his mouth. “This from the woman who changed jobs on a whim?”

“That was different. I needed a change, and I believe in following my instincts.”

“Well, your instincts were certainly right in this instance.” His countenance lightened as he pulled in to the narrow crushed-shell drive beside her cottage. “Just think, if you hadn't followed them, you might have gone all through life without tasting mullet.”

He slewed sideways in his seat and pulled her gently into his arms.

“Jake, I'm a mess!”

The halfhearted protest didn't deter him. He folded her against his chest and brushed her lips softly, over and over, with his own.

“You taste great,” he murmured. “Better than hush puppies and cold beer, even.”

He nibbled at her lips, sucking the soft flesh into his mouth. “I'm glad you followed your instincts. I'm glad you're here, in my arms.”

Maura lifted a trembling hand to stroke the planes of his face, hovering close above hers. Gathering her courage, she took a deep breath. She wasn't sure this was the right time. It surely wasn't the most romantic spot, nor was she quite dressed for the moment. But she knew if she didn't tell this man of the feelings constricting her heart, she'd burst.

“I love you, you know.”

He brushed his lips across hers once more. “I know.”

“You do?” She straightened in his arms, needing to see his face. “How could you? I didn't even know myself until yesterday.”

Jake smiled down at her. “You wear your every
emotion on your face. I've watched your eyes fill with laughter and blaze with passion. And I've seen them shimmer with love. I've known for weeks you're not the kind of woman who can indulge in a lighthearted affair.”

Thoroughly disgruntled that Jake knew her better than she knew herself, Maura pushed herself away.

“This is great. You read me like an open telephone book, and I'm lucky if I can coax more than a grunt out of you, and that's only when you…when we're…you know!”

“I know,” Jake laughed.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Okay, McAllister. Let me put it in terms even an oxygen-starved, brain-damaged jet jockey can understand. In every romantic novel I've read, when the heroine declares her love, the hero usually admits he's head over heels, too.”

“I'm head over heels.”

Jake tugged her back into his arms. This time he pulled her fully into his lap and wrapped a firm arm around her waist to hold her in place. His other hand reached up to lift her chin. His eyes held laughter and a raw emotion that made Maura catch her breath.

“I'm head over heels, over knees, over every other part of my anatomy.”

As romantic declarations went, it wasn't the most articulate. But it would do, Maura decided. It would do nicely. For now.

 

By the time she disentangled her limbs and climbed out of the Jeep, she ached with desire in every part of her body. So did Jake, judging by his taut muscles and reluctance to let her go.

Maura let herself into the house, fed Bea the mullet she'd brought home and headed for the shower. Lifting her face against the water's tattoo, she leaned back against the tile and willed the tension that held her in its grip to ease.

In retrospect, she supposed she could have stage-managed things better. Maybe waited until she and Jake were having a cozy, intimate dinner or until they were caught up in a blaze of passion before she admitted how she felt about him. If she'd been thinking clearly, she certainly wouldn't have sprung it on him when his ex-wife was waiting for him at home.

Grimacing, Maura soaped her body. Her nerve ends still tingled and her nipples ached from Jake's attentions. Sexual tension still rippled low in her belly. She'd lie awake tonight, she knew, thinking of Jake and what they didn't finish out there in the Jeep.

But tomorrow night…

A slow smile curved her lips.

Tomorrow night, he'd be all hers.

“C
olonel McAllister?”

Jake rose from behind his wide oak desk as the gray-suited, earnest young man entered his office.

“I'm Special Agent Dennis Thompson, commander of the Office of Special Investigations here on base.”

“Right. I knew the previous OSI commander, but haven't had a chance to meet you yet.”

Jake shook Thompson's hand and glanced down at the shield and picture ID the young man held out. Leading him to a round table in one corner of his office, he waited patiently while the investigator took out a small black notebook and flipped through its hand-scribbled pages.

“I'm sorry we had to meet in these circumstances.” Thompson raised serious brown eyes to meet Jake's squarely. “The accident investigation board is still reviewing the data from your in-flight incident. Although they're far from finished, preliminary results show a faulty stress analysis on the modified mounts that held the missile.”

“I'm aware of that.”

“The accident-board president called me this morning. He told me that you suspect the faulty analysis may be deliberate.” Thompson looked at him soberly. “He said you believe we're dealing with a case of sabotage.”

The single word hung over them like a thick, noxious miasma. Jake had forced himself to articulate it yesterday, when he spent the day alone, agonizing over the evidence. Yet spoken by someone else, it had an ominous ring.

For days the pattern of the near crash had tugged at Jake. He'd buried his doubts in Maura's welcoming warmth the night of the accident and forced them to the back of his mind on Saturday, when he'd taken her and Lisa to the Mullet Festival. But even as he'd relaxed in the sun and pigged out on fried fish, the questions had simmered in his head.

Despite an almost overwhelming desire to spend Sunday with Maura and follow up on her surprising declaration of love, Jake had found himself back at the secure conference room in the Operations Building. As he played and replayed the videotapes and
spent hour after hour reviewing the team's work, his nagging uncertainty changed to reluctant suspicion, then to gut-clenching surety. It was late afternoon when he made the call, and late Sunday night before he made it home. Now Special Agent Thompson was here to follow up on that call.

“Can you tell me what you base your suspicions on?”

Jake took a deep breath, strangely reluctant to take the next, irrevocable step. He'd been involved in enough investigations during his years in uniform to know the devastating impact even a hint of wrong-doing could have on a unit.

Taking a firm grip on himself, be leaned forward and voiced the ugly suspicion. “I think someone deliberately altered the code in the release sequence of the missile.”

Thompson listened intently as Jake went into detail about the modification project. Capturing what he could of the technical issues, the special agent finally turned to the question of the personalities involved.

“You realize that this puts the members of your own team under suspicion?”

Jake's eyes narrowed to slits. “Yes, I know that. They're not the only ones who had access to the analyses, however. The contractors, our in-house engineering branch, even the load crews worked with the designs.”

Thompson nodded. “I'll need a list of all your
contacts, everyone who's been cleared into the project.” He paused a moment, thinking rapidly. “I worked the counterespionage branch at headquarters before I assumed command of this detachment. The standard procedure, if there is such a thing in cases like this, is to assemble a special team of agents and dedicate them full-time. Given the fact that the Stealth is involved, my bet is they'll be here tomorrow, at the latest.”

 

Jake spent the rest of Monday morning and most of the afternoon working with Thompson and his deputy. Both had to be granted special clearances, but once that was accomplished, they dug in like bull terriers, shaking apart and worrying over every bit of information Jake could supply.

They also assembled the background dossiers and security clearances of all the Eglin personnel. Thompson had already combed through the dossiers in preparation of the interviews he'd conduct with each team member, but wanted Jake's assessment of their qualifications.

Jake shrugged off a feeling of betrayal as he provided objective, incisive comments on the various members of his team. He'd worked with these men and women for more than a month now. He knew their strengths, their few weaknesses. They were the best and brightest Eglin had to offer, and he couldn't accept the idea any one of them was responsible for sabotaging their own project.

Dennis Thompson understood and respected Jake's feelings. Not being as close to the team, however, the younger man was more willing to look for evil, to find holes in their backgrounds. Rubbing his forehead, Thompson sifted through the folders once more. His suit coat hung on the back of his chair, coffee cups left rings on the once-polished tabletop and the stack of notes had grown considerably.

“I'm sorry, Colonel McAllister, but I'll have to ask you to explain this personal relationship you say you have with Dr. Phillips.”

Jake nodded. He'd known before this started, Maura would be one of the suspects. And he also knew, with every fiber of his being, she couldn't have produced the faulty analysis. He'd trust her with his soul. He'd already trusted her with his heart.

 

Late that afternoon, Maura sat at her workstation, her hands clenched tightly in her lap to still their trembling. A deadly, freezing fear filled her veins, racking her body with tiny shivers.

The office was deserted, most of her co-workers having left for the day. Maura's gaze was glued to the blank computer screen, as if the words echoing in her mind would appear on its opaque screen. She kept hearing them, over and over, like the low, deadly hiss of a cobra.

You have the right to remain silent.

You have the right to consult with an attorney. Your attorney may be present during this interview.

Should you decide to answer our questions, your statements may be used against you in a court of law.

Wrapping both arms around her middle, she rocked back and forth in her chair. The dull green screen blurred before her eyes.

You have the right to remain silent.

You have the right to consult with…

“Maura, are you all right?”

Blinking, she looked up to see Pete's white face hovering above her.

“Did you get called in?” he asked her.

Swallowing, she nodded slowly.

“Me, too.” He moved a hand through his hair. “Man, I couldn't believe it when they suggested sabotage. How in the hell could they suspect one of us?”

“I don't know.”

Her voice sounded as frozen as she felt. Still fuming, Pete collapsed in the chair beside her wide worktable.

“After all we've done for McAllister, working night and day on his damned project, how could that bastard sic the OSI on us like that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn't they tell you?” His lip curled in an angry sneer. “Your lover boy is the one who thinks the accident was no accident. I guess he couldn't stand the thought that he just might have screwed up, that maybe he's not such a hotshot pilot after all. He's the one who told them to open this investigation. He's
probably trying to salvage his career by blaming this whole incident on one of us.”

Maura recoiled at the venom in his voice. “I don't believe that.”

“Oh, no? Ask the boss. Ask McAllister himself, if you don't believe me.”

“I will.”

Grabbing her purse, Maura stormed out of the building. Once in the parking lot, she made her way to her car. She felt dazed, as if she were walking through some unknown terrain with shifting, unfamiliar landmarks.

Late-afternoon sun beat down unmercifully, filling her small vehicle with muggy heat. Maura slid inside and opened the driver's-side window, but she couldn't bring herself to turn the key in the ignition. Her hands shook too badly to trust them with driving. Instead she sat in the hot car, shivering.

You have the right to remain silent.

She hadn't remained silent, of course. After the first few moments of stunned surprise, she'd answered all their questions. Even the embarrassingly personal ones about her relationship with Jake.

Maura shook her head in dazed confusion. She'd worked in the defense business since the day she finished graduate school. Before, actually, since some of her doctoral research involved the composite materials now used in advanced aircraft. In all those years, she'd held the highest security clearances. Her background investigation was updated
every five years, and she was convinced there wasn't anything about her public or private life the Defense Investigative Agency didn't know.

But as she answered Special Agent Thompson's skilled questions, she gradually realized he was working from a shattering hypothesis—that she had seduced Jake McAllister to earn a place on his Stealth team.

Maura finally took a firm grip on the steering wheel and forced herself to start the car. Tiny rivulets of sweat ran down her neck, beaded between her breasts, yet still she shivered. Grimly determined, she drove home.

 

“Hello, Maura.”

Jake's deep, steady voice penetrated the stillness of the night. It was late, almost ten. Maura had been waiting for him since early evening. She looked up from the lounger to see his long, lean form framed in her patio doors. Moonlight gleamed on the aviator's wings on his chest and shone dully on his polished silver belt buckle. Except for those pinpoints of light, he was a still, shadowy figure.

When Maura didn't speak, Jake moved out of the shadows, into the full light of the moon. His features slowly resolved into a face that until this afternoon, she thought she knew. His crisp blue air force uniform suddenly looked official and threatening. Moving with the controlled grace so natural to him, he slid a folding lawn chair across the small concrete slab and sat down next to her.

Still Maura couldn't force a sound through her constricted throat. Nor, now that he was here, did she know exactly how to open this painful conversation.

Jake took the initiative, watching her closely. “I understand the OSI spoke to you this afternoon.”

His blue eyes glittered in the dim light. She managed a small nod.

“I know how intimidating those kinds of interviews can be. Did it upset you?”

Anger began to replace some of the ice that had been clogging her veins all evening.

“Upset me? Why should it upset me?” She formed each word slowly, deliberately. “Just because they suggested I'm having an affair with you as a means of getting on the Stealth team? Because they seem to think I'm some kind of a modern day Mata Hari, using my body to keep you in thrall?”

To her stunned amazement, a smile flitted across Jake's face. Her anger blossomed into fury.

“I'm glad you find this amusing, Colonel. I found it debasing, humiliating and incomprehensible.” Swinging her legs off the lounger, she faced him directly. Searing rage washed through her. “I've all but been accused of being a traitor to my country, of sabotaging our defense efforts!”

“No one's accused you of anything.”

“How the hell do you know? You weren't there.”

Quivering with fury, she jumped up and planted herself in front of him.

“You didn't hear them questioning me about my motives for coming to Eglin! You didn't hear the insinuations that I had some ulterior reason for wanting to get back into Stealth work! You didn't have to try to answer their sly questions and ugly suppositions.”

“Yes, I did.” Jake stood slowly. “They asked me about our relationship, too.”

“And what did you tell them?” she sneered. “That I moved here on a whim? That I wormed my way into your confidence through Lisa? That I'm such a good lay that you couldn't help pouring out everything you knew about the Stealth every time you came?”

“Stop it, Maura.”

Jake took her arms in a hard grip, but she jerked out of his hold.

“You should let me rant and rave. Maybe you'll learn something your damned investigators missed this afternoon.”

“I know everything about you I need to know.” His voice was low and taut, a sharp contrast to her shrill anger.

“Oh, is that so? What did they tell you? How many men I've slept with? How I like doing it in the water? The bay or the shower, it doesn't matter which. Oh, wait a minute. You already knew that.”

She flung the accusations wildly, searching for something to hurt him like she'd been hurt.

“They didn't tell me a damn thing.” The rasp in
Jake's voice suggested her rage was testing even his iron control. “I told
them
all they needed to know.”

Her lip curled. “Like what?”

“Like, I love you.”

She waited, anger still swirling hot and furious. “That's it?”

“That's it.”

“And that's supposed to make up for siccing the dogs on me?”

She knew she was being irrational. Knew Jake was obligated to take any suspicions about sabotage to the authorities. Still, the fact that he hadn't trusted her enough to share those suspicions ate at her insides like a vicious, gnawing beast.

“Just calm down, Maura. I know damn well you didn't have anything to do with any faulty analysis. You're too open, too vulnerable, too passionate, too… Oh, hell!”

Jake could see his arguments weren't getting past her hurt and anger. His own feelings were still raw enough that he acted without thinking. Whipping out an arm, he yanked her forward and bent her backward with the force of his kiss. She clutched at his shoulders to keep from toppling over. For a long, heart-stopping moment she clung to him, then reached back a sandaled foot to whack him in the shins.