Читать книгу His Soldier Under Siege - Regan Black - Страница 14

Being called to the commander’s office wasn’t completely out of the ordinary, but it wasn’t an event Grace Ann categorized as fun. Hugging Derek in the hallway couldn’t have raised any eyebrows. As Kevin’s brother, he was unit family and offering him support or comfort was completely normal under the circumstances.

Maybe the Lieutenant Colonel wanted to put her on a new assignment or a special project. She was always up for a change of professional scenery and she’d happily dive into a task that would fill the hours between shifts and keep her mind off those relentless ghosts haunting her and the madman hunting her siblings. Only one way to find out. In the elevator, she took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts, prepared to give an update on her patients, as well as Kevin.

H.B. was shutting down his computer for the day when she walked into the suite of administration offices. “Go on in,” he said. “She’s ready for you.”

“Thanks.” She tried to pick up a clue about this meeting from his expression, but he might as well have been playing poker. Rapping on the door, she announced herself.

“Come on in.” Lieutenant Colonel Bingham waved her forward. “Have a seat,” she said. “It’s been a long day for all of us.”

“It has,” Grace Ann agreed. The pleasantries did nothing to settle her nerves. There was a hard gleam in the commander’s usually kind brown eyes. “I just came from Kevin’s room. He’s resting comfortably.”

“That’s good news.” Bingham’s gaze raked over a paper on her desktop before she looked up. “There is no easy way to say this,” she began. “I just received notice you’re under investigation for misappropriation of Department of Defense medical supplies.”

The absurdity of the statement left denials and protests tangled up between Grace Ann’s brain and her mouth, making her momentarily mute. There had to be some awkward, horrible mistake. She’d been stateside for two years, serving with her unit here at Walter Reed day in and day out. The only exceptions had been temporary assignments for training exercises elsewhere. Until the Riley Hunter’s actions prevented her participation.

“I beg your pardon?” she managed. “I would never—”

“Of course, I don’t believe it for a minute,” Bingham said. “I do, however, have to take appropriate action. The report claims you broke the rules during outreach efforts on your last deployment.”

Who would start pointing fingers now over a deployment two years done and gone? “The school,” she murmured as the devastating memories burst free of the boxes where she tried to keep them.

The ghosts took shape, flowing around her, the happy faces of children she’d come to know and love a little. She wasn’t in the office. Not even in the States. She was back in that dusty village where boys and girls, eyes sparkling with life and energy, would dance and sing and giggle during the team’s visits. One by one those faces withered, the eyes staring into nothing, all that life snuffed out.

“Major?”

Grief was an open, festering wound. Her mouth went dry, recalling the dust that coated everything and everyone. Her heart seemed to stall in her chest, aching more with every beat, her ears ringing as they had in the aftermath. Wouldn’t it be nice to curl up and turn her back on the world with all its horrors?

She yanked herself back to the present before the past dragged her under permanently. “Yes, pardon me.” Slowly she opened her hands, stretching her fingers, which had balled up in defense.

Bingham hadn’t been their commander on that tour and Grace Ann wasn’t sure what she might or might not know about the incident. When she had control of her voice, she explained, “We regularly conducted wellness visits at the village school. It was a high point in the tour for all of us. Until it was bombed.”

Legally, DOD supplies could be used to treat locals in cases of blindness, loss of limbs, or life-threatening trauma. On the day of the bombing, she and the team had gone out to conduct routine checkups with the schoolchildren. There hadn’t been any trauma supplies on hand to be used, appropriately or not.

Someone must have misinterpreted the team’s actions in that crisis. Why pin it all on her? Needing information, she forced herself to ask questions. “Is that the incident being investigated? Who accused me?”

“The whistleblower’s name is redacted in my report,” Bingham said. “As well as specifics.”

The name wasn’t important. Grace Ann was confident she’d guessed right. “That has to be it,” Grace Ann murmured to herself. “The school was the biggest, most publicized community outreach effort in our area,” she explained. “I suppose our time there, the improvements we were making, turned the village into an irresistible target for terrorists.”

“You know better than that,” Bingham said. “It had nothing to do with us. Terrorists habitually go for the jugular in a community. Positive growth isn’t tolerated.”

Bingham was right, but Grace Ann couldn’t shrug off the weight of blame. She’d come home, debriefed and reestablished a healthy work-life routine. And still when she closed her eyes to sleep, the children who would never grow up were with her.

“I don’t like this, Major Riley.” The commander glared down at the paper again, closed the folder with a snap. “However, my responsibility is to cooperate for the integrity of the investigation, regardless of how ridiculous it is. To that end, your security clearance has been suspended—”

“Pardon me?”

“—and your access to medications and controlled substances is revoked. Due to those status changes, you’ve been removed from the schedule until the investigation runs its course and you’re cleared.”

“Ma’am?” Grace Ann stared at her commander, dumfounded. The words wouldn’t fall into any sensible order. How would she fill the hours without her work? “I didn’t do anything wrong over there.” Who had she offended so badly that they’d file a false report?

“I know this comes as a shock,” Bingham continued gently. “Your first call should be to the JAG office. After that, I recommend you take a real vacation. According to your personnel record, you haven’t taken much more than a long weekend since your return from Afghanistan.”

“There was a week in Key West,” she said absently. She could hardly mention her secret trips with Derek every few months. “We all met down there to celebrate when my parents picked up their boat.”

Most of the time she filled her days off between short jaunts to the Rileys’ new beach house in North Carolina or rambling through nearby state and national parks with Derek. Surrounding herself with activity was the only way she’d found to mute the agony of that day and keep those vicious memories locked down.

“Your scattered days here and there aren’t nearly enough downtime to balance how much you give us here, Major Riley,” Bingham said. “Consider the extended time off a silver lining to this frustrating and inconvenient situation.”

“How long?” She blurted out the question before she had control of herself. “I mean, yes ma’am.”

Bingham narrowed her gaze. “If you want my opinion, no one who knows you is putting any stock in this. Still, the investigators are obligated to follow through.”

“Of course.” Transparency and accountability were the catchphrases these days. That logic was no comfort to her while her career deflated like a popped balloon and her heart cowered in her chest.

“I did try to keep you on the rotation,” Bingham said. “They wouldn’t have it. I anticipate you’ll be cleared and back with us just as soon as the initial interviews are over.”

Her head pounded. They were conducting interviews already. On a violent incident that had taken place on the other side of the world. She couldn’t think of a single person who would set her up this way or a single witness who might verify this outrageous claim.

“I’m free to go?” She should feel lucky she wasn’t in handcuffs.

Bingham nodded in the affirmative. “Major Riley. Grace Ann. You are a trusted, valued member of the Army Nurse Corps. I do not believe there is anything credible in this accusation. Take some time to yourself and let the system sort it out.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” It meant a great deal to be trusted, to hear that she was valued.

Unfortunately, the confidence and compliments wouldn’t change the sudden abundance of free time looming in front of her. Hours and hours with no distractions, no work to exhaust her physically or mentally, posed a terrifying and untenable prospect.

She couldn’t even invite Derek for a quick weekend away. He needed to be here with his brother.

Guilt and grief tied knots in her belly. She should be the one recuperating from spinal surgery—would have been if the Riley Hunter’s antics hadn’t kept her off that exercise. Now another storm cloud was throwing random lightning bolts into her life, threatening her career. She had no idea who she was without the army, without nursing.

Derek rubbed his palms together briskly, determined to stay awake. Overtired, now that he had a decent meal in his belly it was hard to keep his eyes open. He could sleep later. With so many things that could, and often did, go wrong in a hospital he was driven to keep watch over Kevin.

He and his brother held vastly different memories of the days their dad lingered in ICU after the car crash. Kevin had been old enough to understand the concept of serious complications but still young enough that Derek sheltered him as much as possible from the increasingly grim updates.

Yes, Kevin’s situation was different. Medicine had made huge advancements since they were kids. And unlike their father, Kevin had squeezed his hand once during Derek’s brief visit to the recovery area and periodically roused enough to remind Derek he’d be fine. Now, while Kevin slept, Derek had only his thoughts and the incessant beeping of various monitors for company.

The television had been more annoyance than diversion. He’d called his office in Baltimore and updated his assistant that Kevin would recover fully, explaining it would be a few weeks yet before he could manage day-to-day tasks on his own. She’d promised to pass the information along as needed and keep him up-to-date on issues at the office. He was in-house counsel for a medical supply company, so there weren’t any pressing cases to juggle.

Though it was selfish, he wished Grace Ann would come back. Her confidence in Kevin’s recovery made it easier to believe life would return to normal again someday. Just knowing she was in the building gave him something positive to think about when the clinical sounds and smells overwhelmed him.

Eighteen years ago Derek had changed up his life and adjusted his personal plans to stay home and get Kevin through high school. The few weeks or months ahead of them were simply another drop in the bucket. Derek would telecommute or...

His thoughts evaporated when he caught a glimpse of Grace Ann hurrying by the open doorway. He’d expected her to pop in again after she dealt with whatever had called her away, had been counting on her return. He started to stand up and follow her and forced himself to stay put. Though Kevin didn’t need him right now, he didn’t have to trail after her like a lost puppy.

He pushed to his feet again. He should apologize for being rude when she’d been trying to help. An apology was a valid, mature reason to interrupt her and it had nothing to do with wanting to spend another few minutes in her company to store up that soft scent of her skin. She was intelligent, witty and kind and she’d managed to make this never-ending day almost tolerable.

Although, as he hustled down the hallway, he had to concede everyone here had been nicer than expected. The weight on his shoulders lifted with the silent admission. Kevin frequently joked about Derek’s colossal bias against the military. His prejudice wasn’t even based on his own experiences or an inherent philosophy. No, Derek’s problem boiled down to a pervasive unease about Kevin’s inevitable deployments to dangerous and remote locations.

His little brother had no idea how much Derek didn’t want to be the last Sayer on their family tree.

At the intersection of two hallways, he looked around, having momentarily lost sight of Grace Ann. She was a little taller than average, a fact he appreciated whenever they kissed and when he spotted her dark head moving against the sea of scrubs. He almost called out her name before he remembered where he was and that shouting wasn’t a smart idea.

He rushed forward, determined to catch her before she reached the employees-only doorway. He skidded to a stop as someone wearing a combat uniform—he couldn’t be sure if it was a man or a woman—rounded the corner, grabbed her and shoved her into the stairwell.

What the hell?

Catching a glimpse of the shock on her face, he moved on instinct and bolted after them. Through the narrow window in the heavy door, he saw the uniform held Grace Ann in a chokehold, pressing her back over the railing. She fought back, twisting and straining to break the grip, while keeping one foot hooked around the back of the attacker’s knee for leverage. Or balance.

Derek’s heart slammed into his rib cage. He couldn’t lose her. Soldier or not, she wouldn’t deal with this alone—he wouldn’t let her. Shouting for help, Derek surged forward and grabbed Uniform’s collar and hauled him back.

The person under that boxy uniform put up quite a fight. Closer now, Derek could see it was a man by the big hands dusted with hair wrapped around Grace Ann’s neck. The edge of a tattoo on his inner right wrist peeked from under a sleeve. Derek struggled, pushing and shoving, determined to get the man off her.

She continued to scrape and grapple, using the distraction and shifting momentum to break the chokehold at last. In a lightning-quick maneuver, she pinned Uniform’s hands helplessly to his side and struck the man hard on the jaw with her elbow.

Uniform’s head snapped back, but he didn’t give up. Backpedaling, he thumped Derek into the wall with his body and lunged for Grace Ann again. The element of surprise gone now, she smoothly ducked under the attempt to corral her at the railing and raised her leg, tripping Uniform. He pitched forward, tumbling down the slope of concrete steps.

Uniform hit the first landing with a thud and a low groan before he scrambled to his feet and kept running, pinballing between the wall and the rail in his haste to escape. When Grace Ann moved to follow, Derek caught her, holding her back. “Let him go.”

“He can’t get away with this.”

“He won’t.” Derek hoped his promise wouldn’t become a lie. “Let’s take a look at you.” He leaned back so he could look her over but she turned abruptly into his embrace, her body quaking with shock as Uniform’s boots continued to pound against the stairs.

“We should call security.” He held her close, needing the assurance that she was alive and well. He kept breathing in the soft clove scent of her shampoo, imagining they were back at their last campsite, under the stars. Anything to block that moment when he was sure she was going over the rail.

“We should.” She didn’t move, her hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt as the sound of a door clanging open and closed echoed up the stairwell.

Would she now be in a heap at the bottom of the stairwell if he hadn’t come along? Jerking his gaze away from the unforgiving concrete at the bottom of the stairwell, he shifted them closer to the door and safety as the tremors rolling through both of them subsided.

“Thanks,” she said, stepping out of his embrace. “I’m better now.”

He wanted to believe her. His gaze fixed on the red marks circling her throat above the neckline of her scrub top and his heart lodged in his throat. “You sure?”

She suddenly bent over, her hands braced on her knees, and sucked in slow, measured breaths. “Just need a minute.”

“Take your time.” He stroked her back with his palm, soothing, willing her to be okay. “Did you recognize him?”

Still doubled over, she shook her head. “The name on the uniform was Smith. The rank was PFC—private first class. That’s all I got.” She coughed, the rough sound making him wince.

“He had a tattoo on one wrist.” Straightening, she arched an eyebrow. “I only caught the ink,” he explained. “Not enough to identify an image.”

“So he might as well be invisible,” she said, then fell into another spate of coughing.

“We need to call security,” he repeated. He patted his pockets, couldn’t find his cell phone. “They can pull more information from video feed.” He’d spotted surveillance cameras above the stairwell door and high in the corner. “And you need a doctor.”

“I’m fine.” She handed him her cell phone and rasped out the code for security. “I should have known this kind of thing was coming,” she muttered.

“What are you talking about?” he asked while he waited for someone at the security desk to pick up. If someone was harassing her, the hospital, with all of the protective measures, identity checks and people coming and going, seemed like an audacious place to launch an attack.

She reached for the door, held it for him. “It’s a long story.”

“Good thing I have plenty of time on my hands,” he said. “Which way to the base security office?” he asked as the phone kept ringing.

Her reply was interrupted by the person who’d finally answered his call. In low tones, he gave an explanation of the incident and promised they would both head straight over to give a full report.

“You need to stay with Kevin,” she said when he returned her phone. “I’ll go over and handle the report. If they have questions for you, I can share your cell number with them. Assuming that’s all right.”

Let her out of his sight after that? Not a chance. “You’re not going anywhere alone,” he told her. His heart hadn’t yet returned to a normal rhythm.

“But—”

He cut her off with a look. “Wait here. Please,” he added as he ducked into the room. Returning after grabbing his cell phone and jacket, he was glad to see she hadn’t left without him.

“This is silly. You know I can handle myself.” Her chin lifted in defiance, making the red marks on the delicate skin of her throat stand out in stark relief.

“You can,” he admitted. She probably would have hog-tied the assailant with her stethoscope and dragged him down to security by his bootlaces if Derek hadn’t interfered. Instead, he’d jumped in and the guy escaped. “You can,” he repeated. “But you don’t need to.”

“Derek.” Clearly exasperated, she made his name sound like an oath.

“You’ve said it yourself,” he pressed. “Kevin just needs time to recover. No one’s attacking him.” He leaned close. “From where I’m standing, it looks like you need me more than he does right now.”

“Fine.”

Relieved it hadn’t required more of an argument, he followed her to the employee area for her floor, waiting outside the door. She returned within a minute or two, a tote over her shoulder and a jacket zipped up to cover the marks on her neck. It only sent more questions rolling through his mind, but he held them all back for a later time. She was clearly irritable and he didn’t want to stress her voice any more than necessary.

“I wish you’d let a doctor look you over.”

She glared at him and shook her head. Her phone chimed with an alert and she checked the smartwatch on her wrist. The glare turned into a fierce scowl.

Whatever the message was didn’t improve her mood. “Problem?”

“My brother,” she replied with a dismissive shrug. “He’s mad I refused a formal protective detail.”

“More of that long story?”

“Yes,” she replied with a grimace.

At the security desk, a base police officer took their detailed statements of the incident in the stairwell. Though she refused medical evaluation, they swabbed her throat for any possible DNA from her attacker and took several pictures of the marks left behind. Before they left, the officer assisting them pulled up the video from the nearest cameras and promised to try to track down the soldier who had attacked her.

On the surface Grace Ann appeared satisfied, but Derek’s gut instinct told him there was something more going on. On their private trips, he’d learned to read her pretty well. The tension was there in the way she kept nipping at her lip and working her thumb over her index finger. Those little habits would fade during their time together, only to resurface when she had to head home.

Maybe the two of them should have been sharing more than superficial, steamy outdoor getaways these last couple of years. He’d kept secrets for both of them. Didn’t she know she could trust him with anything?

“What next?” he asked.

“I’m going home,” she said. “Hot tea and an ice pack.”

Whether he blamed it on the traumas past or present, he couldn’t bear the idea of her heading home alone. What happened if the anonymous soldier returned? “Let me help. At least until you’re settled.” He intended to stick close until he got the whole story out of her.

She shook her head. “That’s overkill.”

“Maybe I could use a friend,” he suggested. He’d been running on fumes before witnessing her attack. Time outside the hospital with her would be a welcome change of scenery.

“Uh-huh.” She rolled those big brown eyes and he could tell she was close to giving in. “You’d do better with a friend who isn’t in trouble.”

What kind of trouble? He’d been around the unit long enough to know that time and again she put others ahead of herself. It had been obvious from their first introduction when she’d left her meal unfinished to take over in the serving line so another soldier could eat with his parents. “Probably,” he said. “But you’re right here.”

“Convenient.” Her lips twitched into a shadow of a smile. “For both of us.”

Pouncing on the opportunity, he convinced her to let him drive her home. They took the base shuttle to his car and she programmed her address into his navigation app. During the short drive to her house, she sipped on a water bottle she’d pulled from her tote, staring at the neighborhood passing by.

He appreciated the silence as his thoughts were swirling with doubts and nerves about this move. Since agreeing to explore the potential of their first kiss, they’d deliberately avoided crossing the line between neutral-territory casual hookups and personal space.

Living in separate cities, about an hour away from each other, helped. Although they’d agreed dating other people was okay and that either one of them could bow out gracefully if a date took a serious turn, here they were. He hadn’t dated anyone else in over a year. So he kept circling back to her, and her to him, every few months for a long weekend of hiking or rafting or some other outdoor adventure. It was the perfect solution.

No one else captivated him the way Grace Ann did and few had shared his interests with the same intensity. Unique, confident and strong, she was practical with an unexpected side of whimsy that cropped up at the oddest times. Despite the inherent risks of her career choice, she lived life large. He admired that, though he couldn’t cope with it day-to-day over the long-term. On the rare occasions when he pictured his future wife, she didn’t wear camouflage or follow orders to assist in a crisis overseas.

Pulling into the last driveway on her block, he studied the clean lines of the redbrick house on the corner lot with a one-car garage and a cherry tree in the front yard. He wondered if she had help with the well-kept lawn. As long as they had been together, he should know if she enjoyed yard work.

“Nice place,” he said.

“Thanks. I’ll get the garage door so you can pull in.” She opened the door and slid out of the passenger seat, tote slung over her shoulder.

She punched a code into a keypad beside the door and a moment later the garage door rolled up. He put the car in Drive, but she didn’t move. He couldn’t pull in without hitting her and the garage interior was too dim for him to see beyond her. Turning off the engine, he climbed out of the car and walked up to stand beside her.

Shards of glass were scattered across the cement floor. His gaze followed the glinting trail to a broken window in the back corner. He reached for his cell phone, but he’d left it in the car. “Call the police,” he said quietly.

“No.” She swallowed. “It was just wind.” She dropped her tote bag to the floor. “I didn’t get the tree branches trimmed back when I should have.”

He hadn’t heard anything about damaging winds, having been indoors for the majority of the past two days. “You sure?”

“What else?” Moving forward with stilted motions that bore no resemblance to what he remembered as the fluid, energetic woman he’d gone kayaking with a few weeks ago, she walked over to the wall-mounted pegboard and pulled down a broom.

“Hold up.” Derek stepped into her path, noticed her eyes had glazed over and her knuckles were white where she gripped the broom handle. With a gentle shake of her shoulders, he broke through the strange haze. “Grace Ann, you need to call the police. Now, honey.”

A shiver rippled through her and her big brown eyes brimmed with tears. She blinked rapidly before they could spill over. “Why? I can’t tell them anything.”

Derek had never before felt this drive, this need to rescue a woman. Being there for Kevin had been his primary focus and he studiously avoided drama and troubling entanglements. Whatever Grace Ann was facing, he was determined to help.

“I’ll make the call,” he said. “We’ll report this as a possible break-in.” Thank goodness he’d insisted on bringing her home. “Take a look around,” he said, using her phone to look up the nonemergency number for the local police department. “Is anything missing?”

She was so obviously overwhelmed he wanted to cuddle her close and assure her it was just another lousy moment in a bad day. His mind on the attacker who’d escaped, he couldn’t help wondering if both instances were related. Briefly, he considered closing the garage door and taking her to a hotel. Preferably a hotel on the other side of the country.

Instead, he called the police department, gave her address and explained what they’d found. While she looked around, Derek took stock as well. There were a few items of value, but nothing other than the window seemed to be disturbed or vandalized. He glanced to the steps leading to the house, wondering if someone might be hiding inside. Although the hole in the window wasn’t big enough for a person to fit though, he wasn’t taking any more chances.

“Come on, we’ll wait in the car.”

She aimed a watery smile at him. “You should go. To your hotel or back to the hospital. I’ll be fine.”

Like hell he’d leave her to handle this alone. “Sure, I’ll go. Is there a neighbor you’d like to come over to wait with you?” he asked innocently.

“Just go.” Temper flared in her eyes. “I’m a big girl, Derek.” She paused to clear her throat. “This isn’t the first bad day I’ve had.”

He’d bet good money it was among the worst she’d had in a long time. At least he hoped days like this weren’t the norm. He moved her tote aside and tugged her down to sit on the steps with him.

“You might not have heard, but I’m coming off a pretty bad day myself,” he said, keeping his voice light. “The experts promised that my worst nightmare isn’t going to strike this time. Which gives me time to help you out.”

“What’s your worst nightmare?” she asked, pressing her hands together between her knees.

“Being alone.” It wasn’t a fear he’d ever confessed or tackled head-on. When had he come to trust Grace Ann so much? “I don’t dwell on it,” he added. He lived his life, managed his career and kept himself distracted with hobbies.

“Ah.”

“Ah?” he echoed. “Meaning?”

She exhaled, her breath fluffing her bangs away from her forehead. “You know I’m second of five kids,” she reminded him. “An army brat. My family seems to grow a little more every year through military connections alone. I’m not sure I have a grasp of the kind of loneliness you’re afraid of.”

Her answer painted a clear picture of how little he knew about her and filled him with a strange urgency to learn more. “Do you have a roommate?”

“No. I enjoy living by myself.” A wry smile curved her lips. “Of course there’s always a sibling or friend I can call, to vent or lean on when needed.”

He supposed that’s where he fit into her life. Someone she called when she needed a break from solitude or work. “Why don’t you call your family now?”

“I should.” Elbows propped on her knees, she rested her head on her hands. “I will once the police are done. No sense worrying everyone until we have more facts.”

“You’ll tell them about the attack in the stairwell, too?”

She rubbed her temples. “I hate to worry the family but I will tell them all of it,” she muttered.

“What else are you dealing with?” He smoothed a hand across the bunched muscles of her shoulders.

“Stupidity.” She picked up her cell phone, turning it around in her hands, lips pursed. “I got suspended today,” she said. “Someone reported me for misuse of Defense Department supplies and my security clearance is suspended while they investigate.”

Whoa. Work was everything for Grace Ann. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

She picked at the knees of her scrubs. “Some guy was strangling me.”

“Your family can help with this, right?” She was the daughter of a highly decorated general. Surely he still had connections.

“They shouldn’t.”

He draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her close. “You have to tell them.”

“I will.” She leaned into him. “Again, better to have all the facts,” she said.

“Do you need an attorney?” He didn’t have the right legal expertise, but he had friends in all areas of law practice.

She frowned. “I didn’t think you took private clients.”

“I can help you find someone,” he replied. He didn’t even have to think about it, though it meant calling in a favor with a friend or two with more experience in military law.

She pushed up from the stairs, arms folded over her middle as she paced the width of the garage. “You’re too generous,” she said.

It didn’t sound like a compliment. “You’d change your mind if I sent you a bill.”

In the glare of the overhead light, he saw that her rusty laugh didn’t quite reach her eyes. He really should have a ready solution—other than sex—to help ease her distress.

What began on a whim at his first family picnic with Kevin’s unit could have been a sturdy foundation. In that soft evening light, away from the noise of so many happy, reunited families, he’d found contentment. Her wide, accepting smile and her doe eyes framed by long dark eyelashes drew things out of him too easily. With her, on that secluded path, all of his wishes and dreams were possible.

That one kiss had led to...nothing. Not right away. They’d exchanged numbers and after some careful planning, they’d spent a weekend hiking the gorgeous trails in the Shenandoah National Park. There, they’d developed a no-strings, friends-with-benefits arrangement that was the best of both worlds.

Now he felt as if they’d shortchanged all that early potential.

“I appreciate the offer,” she was saying. “The accusation is bogus and the investigation will bear that out soon enough. I won’t be out of work long.”

He heard the faintly hopeful note in her statement and kept his opinion to himself. Waiting out bogus accusations was one thing, but adding in the attack at work and now the vandalism to her home, his uneasiness cranked up. “You think these are all just unrelated, unfortunate incidents?”

“Yes.”

Her fierce, whispered reply wasn’t convincing. He couldn’t challenge her or ask for more details because the police cruiser pulled up, parking on the street.

“You can leave,” she said as the officers approached. “I’ll be fine.”

“In a minute.” He stood with her, not close enough to touch, unless she reached out. As much as he wanted to console her, it would be better if it was her idea.

The two officers introduced themselves as Willet and Radcliff. Willet, hair going gray at the temples, carried a bit more weight than the wiry, youthful Radcliff. Together they patiently listened to Grace Ann’s account of finding the broken window, Willet taking notes. They asked about her security system and nodded in resigned acceptance as she explained there was only a motion-detecting floodlight at the back corner of the garage.

“Not much help in daylight,” Officer Willet remarked.

“Any signs of trouble inside?” Radcliff queried.

“We haven’t gone in yet.” Grace Ann tugged at the high collar of her jacket. “It seemed prudent to wait for you.”

“The door doesn’t show any sign of damage,” Derek said.

“I never lock this one,” she admitted glumly.

“Understandable,” Willet said. “It’s the same at my house. Radcliff will take a look around outside to check for any evidence or concerns.” With a nod, the younger man strolled off. “Once I clear the house, the three of us can walk through.”

“I appreciate your time,” Grace Ann said.

Officer Willet examined the doorjamb closely before entering the house, one hand on his holstered gun. “Just give me a few minutes,” he said.

They stepped back to wait in the center of the garage. Officer Radcliff returned before Willet. He reported that other than a small, narrow footprint, there wasn’t any other evidence to be found.

“Do you think the tree limb broke the window?” she asked.

“Not to my eye,” Radcliff said. “I called for a crime scene tech to come out and gather whatever they can find.”

She pressed her fingertips to her lips and nodded, accepting the assessment. Derek had never seen her so rattled. Of course he’d only really spent time with her on weekends, far from any real pressure. “Have there been any similar crimes in the area?”

“We always see a bump in burglary complaints when school starts up,” Radcliff answered. “Pure vandalism comes and goes.” He shrugged. “We’ll run it through the system for any similar incidents when we get back.”

Derek couldn’t be sure what Grace Ann thought, but in his mind that added up to more trouble aimed directly at her. “You don’t sound hopeful about catching the vandal.”

“It’s unlikely,” Radcliff admitted. “No sign in here or out there of the object used to break the window.” He shrugged again. “Probably a kid on a dare.”

Derek hoped the officer was right. Because of the different jurisdictions, no one was likely to connect the attack at the hospital, on federal property, with this incident in her civilian neighborhood, unless Grace Ann suggested it specifically. Something he knew she was not ready to do.

“House is clear,” Willet declared from the doorway. “I don’t think anything is out of place, but you’ll know best.”

“That’s good news,” Grace Ann said.

“Come on in and take a look.” Willet waved them closer. “Thank you for your service,” he added.

Color rose in Grace Ann’s cheeks. What had the police officer seen inside? She hadn’t yet given them more than her name, and there was no insignia on her jacket. He waited near the kitchen, as inconspicuously as possible, while she and the police officer walked the house.

With a full view of the spacious front room, Derek decided he liked her home. She’d chosen comfortable furnishings, nothing fussy and cluttered or too sparse and sterile. He noticed the framed flag and a shadow box with an award of some sort on the shelves flanking a big-screen television. He didn’t go closer, unwilling to tread on her frayed nerves. On the counter she had a framed picture from her last deployment in Afghanistan. She stood next to his brother, both of them grinning, surrounded by the rest of their team. The date was engraved on the frame. He’d seen a matching piece at Kevin’s house.

“Everything is still here,” she said when she came back into the main room.

Once again he fought the urge to gather her close. “That’s a relief.”

“It is.” Her smile lacked any real enthusiasm. “It was a long day at work,” she told the officers.

The officers promised to look into any connected complaints as Grace Ann walked them out. When they were alone again, Derek caught Grace Ann staring at the broken glass.

“Go on inside,” he said. “I’ll sweep this up and cover the window for tonight.”

“You’ve gone above and beyond already. It can wait until morning.” She glared at the mess. “It’s not like I have anywhere to be.”

She had yet to sit down with the hot tea and ice pack, and he knew she needed both. Needed to unwind. Though he expected resistance, he had no intention of leaving just yet. “Are you hungry?”

She tugged at that high collar again before meeting his gaze. “A little.”

“How is it I don’t know if you like to cook?” Camp cooking wasn’t the same as enjoying the process of building a meal at home.

“We’ve never had reason to discuss it.” Her lips twitched. “I don’t enjoy it much. Unless cookies and brownies count.”

His mouth watered. “From a mix or from scratch?” Homemade brownies were his favorite.

“Scratch.” Her sharp chin lifted in a way that made him long to nip and taste. “If you’re mixing up ingredients, might as well do it right.”

“That counts.” Baking was one thing he’d never mastered after stepping into a parental role with Kevin. Even with boxed mixes, he’d always managed to mess something up.

He pulled out his phone before she could try to send him away again. “I’ll order a pizza and you can make dessert while I clean up the garage.”

“How is it I didn’t know you’re so bossy?” She said it with a sweet smile that made him want to steal a kiss. He resisted. Barely.

“Lawyer.” He tapped the wide-bristled broom to the cement floor. “Comes with the territory.” He set to work, smiling when he heard the door close quietly behind her as she went inside.

Lawyer, pseudo-parent, oldest child: he supposed he came by his bossiness naturally. In this instance, with a woman with such vivid pain haunting her gaze, he counted it as a helpful trait rather than a hindrance.