At His Command (16 page)

“We have a lot of work to do. Foremost being looking into those other deaths and getting the details. We will need to be calm and prepared when we talk to her again. You can’t come barreling in here and accuse her of a murder where we have no proof. Get ahold of yourself, now!”

The conflagration of her anger dissipated, leaving a small, burning ember inside her. He was right. She had lost it. After so many years of grief and loss filling her up, she’d snapped. Her bottled-up feelings had broken free and if not for Chris, she could have jeopardized this solid case against Susan Cotes. It was a good thing he was here.

She took a cleansing breath and headed for the door. When Chris didn’t move, she tossed him a chiding look. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Where?” he said, eyeing her warily.

“To the captain. We have to search her bunk.”

He nodded and opened the door, “Now you’re talking. After you.”

* * *

Sia donned gloves after they entered Susan’s berth, the one she shared with Lieutenant Maria Jackson. Sia started with her locker and Chris worked on searching the bunk.

Without thinking about it, she went straight for the socks and began pulling them apart. After the forth pair a familiar bottle dropped out. Sia looked down, her stomach twisting. Bending down, she picked up the bottle and gasped.

“What is it?” Chris asked.

“This is the exact same bottle I found in the master chief’s berth. What appears to be a simple over-the-counter irregularity aid.”

“How do you know that?”

“The label was torn in the exact same spot. You find anything?”

“Yes and no. I found her yellow tunic stuffed under her mattress. I bagged it to test for gun residue. But no gun.”

“One more question to ask her.”

“Let’s get this cataloged as evidence and get it to Math. He’s still at Hickam. In the meantime, we need to slog through the information your aide sent us regarding those deaths. Let’s get to it.”

“Yes, sir,” Sia said.

After getting the sample off to Math, they returned to her cabin for her laptop, went to the legal office and printed out all the information her aide had sent her. They decided that it would be more comfortable working out of her own stateroom and returned there.

If they were going to tie these murders to Susan Cotes, there was a lot to go over. She was also still waiting on the information regarding the master chief.

“What was her connection to the master chief?”

“He was sleeping with her?”

“He was old enough to be her father.”

“Maybe she’s looking for a father figure. All we know at this point is he tried to protect her. I think that’s why he tried to kill you.”

“It’s possible. I told him I was going to dig into my brother’s death. That could have been the trigger.”

“You couldn’t have known he was connected at the time, Sia.”

“Yes, well, I almost signed my own death warrant.” She looked down at his notebook. “You’ve got a lot of notes there. Care to share?”

“All nine pilot murders involve pilots stationed aboard the
McCloud,
” Chris said.

Sia was surprised no one had put the pattern together, but more than one agent had handled the deaths.

“The first death resulted from a fall from an upper deck of the carrier. It had been windy and storming and the death was ruled accidental. One was during shore leave. The man had been stabbed and left for dead outside a bar in Hawaii. NCIS investigated and classified it as a robbery/homicide. No suspect had ever been found in that crime and it’s now considered a cold case.” He flipped over a page and continued. “The next was a chopper pilot who had crashed into the ocean and drowned. The ruling had been accidental.”

Sia wondered if the pilot had been drugged.

“Then your brother was killed, ruled pilot error. Two more pilots had gone down on a routine mission, but their jets and bodies hadn’t ever been recovered.”

“Then that left Saunders and Washington,” she said, looking over his shoulder.

“Your aide is very thorough.”

“That he is. He’ll make a very good lawyer one day.”

Chris’s phone trilled, he flipped it open and said, “It’s a text from Math. Get him up on the two-way.”

When Math popped up on the screen, he said, “You two look as tired as I feel.”

“What do you have for us?” Sia asked.

“For you, sweetheart, anything you want.” He wagged his eyebrows.

“Math,” Chris growled.

“Oh, right, you have a claim on her.”

“Shut up and give us the information.”

“Which is it, man? Shut up or talk?”

“Math,” Chris said, lower and more menacing.

“All right. The drug in the bottle is Gamma-Hydroxybutyric acid, commonly known as GHB.”

“The date-rape drug?” Sia asked.

“Yes. GHB is also used in a medical setting as a general anesthetic, to treat conditions such as insomnia, clinical depression, narcolepsy and alcoholism, as well as to improve athletic performance.”

“But it wasn’t prescribed for her. It was in an over-the-counter medication bottle.”

“That’s correct. We can surmise from that behavior she meant to conceal the drug. So if we can infer that, then we can conclude she used it to drug Washington. It would explain his behavior the night he crashed and his inability to eject.”

“But there was no evidence Washington had been drugged.”

“GHB is colorless and odorless and is easily added to drinks that mask the flavor. A urine test is the best way to detect the drug in the system, and that is problematic, if you’re not specifically looking for it. The drug leaves the body about eight to twelve hours after ingestion. Quite frankly, the ME could have missed it, since it is sodium-based and occurs naturally in the central nervous system.”

“Is there a way to detect it after death if you’re specifically looking for it?”

Math smiled. “You would have made a good forensic scientist, Vargas. As a matter of fact, there is. GHB can be detected in hair for months after ingesting the drug.”

“And you already tested Lieutenant Washington’s hair?” Chris’s smile was easy and made her shiver inside as she became mesmerized by the way his mouth curved.

“I did. He had enough in his system to cause dizziness and drowsiness. I would say if Lieutenant Washington and your suspect were in the wardroom, she could have easily slipped it into his drink. Since he had coffee in his stomach contents, the strong flavor would have easily masked the taste.”

“And the tunic?”

“Well, you’ve really hit the jackpot with this woman. The tunic tested positive for gunpowder residue. She had fired a weapon, but I can’t say for certain if it was at you and the lovely Sia or at the pistol range. If you want me to do any tests on the other pilots who were killed, you’ll have to exhume the bodies. That’s always hell on the families,” Math said, shaking his head.

“It may be necessary. Their loved ones have a right to know what really happened to them,” Chris said firmly.

“You let me know, cowboy.”

“Roger that. Math, thanks as always. I appreciate the effort you made coming all the way from Norfolk.”

“Can I go home now?”

“Yes…after I get your reports.”

“Aw, damn, that’ll take me hours. Looks like I’ll have to sleep on the plane.”

“Well, you better get started.”

“Screw you, Vargas,” Math said with a chuckle. “Goodbye, pretty Sia.” He blew her a kiss and ended the conversation as the screen winked out.

“He’s a character,” she said.

“You have no idea. He’s brilliant, but eccentric. He loves the ladies.”

She smiled. “I can tell.” Her eyes locked with his. In this quiet moment, a moment of shared amusement, it was hard to think that six years had passed since she’d seen Chris. It was as if time hadn’t passed at all. As if they were in some kind of time warp transporting them back to when her life was full of this man, his kisses, his body, his love.

She couldn’t forget the past, but right now it seemed to recede some, to give her some solace in this moment.

Strands of hair slipped from her bun and swung softly against her cheek.

Chris reached out and brushed at it, letting the long strands filter through his fingers. Her hair was free from the bun by some stealth move he made and as it cascaded over her shoulders, Chris sighed. “My beautiful Sia.”

Nerve endings on red alert, Sia held his heavy-lidded gaze, his eyes as gray as smoke. It seemed amazing to her, the way her body came alive and aware of him. Her heart picked up a beat; her breasts grew heavy and tingled, her nipples drawing into hard, beaded knots.

Chris was tall and rangy, with strong broad shoulders and slim hips. Sleek skin over heavy muscle. The expression on his lean, tanned face was languid and powerful. He moved closer to her as his hand cupped her face. As he looked deep into her eyes, she remembered easily why she had fallen for Chris so quickly.

He’d been cocky and brash when she’d first met him. Imbued with that fighter pilot aura only a man with deep confidence and amazing skill could have and, damn, but he looked good in the uniform. He was first in his class at Top Gun and she hadn’t at first wanted to get involved with him. She had plans and he didn’t fit into them. But then she’d seen his sensitive side, when he would coax her mother out of her depressions and make her father laugh with his big whopping fighter pilot stories.

His moniker had been Streak, like lightning, like pure unadulterated speed. And he liked to move fast.

Like a flash, he had taken her breath away.

Moving fast had been in his blood, but it looked like he’d tempered that speed until only the promise of it lay in his dark, soot-smudged eyes.

He caught her first with the magnetic quality of those eyes, glittering with devilish lights, and then zapped her with that grin. She had never experienced anything like Chris Vargas’s grin. She felt as if he had turned a thousand watts of pure electricity on her.

His mouth was wide, his lips were sculpted, the sexy dip in his upper lip drew her eye and all she could think about was how he would taste.

He went to his knees on the bunk and cupped her face in both of his hands. His palms were warm against her skin and she closed her eyes as he ran his thumbs along her cheekbones. With a quick intake of air, he whispered close to her ear, “You trying to seduce me, sugar?”

She shivered at his warm breath across the sensitive shell of her ear. His fingers delved into her hair, caressing the nape of her neck.

“Why don’t you take your shirt off for me?”

She complied, but not before she slid her hands up his sides, up to the heavy muscles of his shoulders. Her buttons felt small compared to all that strength.

Her shirt off and discarded, Sia opened her eyes. The scent of him filled her nostrils with warm, aroused male, musky and virile.

That mobile mouth skimmed along her face with teasing kisses; the whisper of his heated lips almost made her beg for more contact. “Now the pants,” he ordered. And Sia knew, in this case, she was at his command.

She shifted and he shifted with her as if he couldn’t bear to let her go. She slipped out of her pants and knelt on the bunk in nothing but her bra and panties.

“Soldier on the outside…” he said as he deftly removed her bra and released her breasts; they ached for his touch. He hooked his fingers around the stretch of lace at her hip, his flesh hot against her skin. “All woman on the inside.”

He tugged. Slowly. Excruciatingly slowly. She wanted to tip her head back, close her eyes, and just focus on feeling every sensation, every ripple of pleasure. But she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She tried not to tremble so hard, but she couldn’t seem to stop. As he removed her panties, the warm cotton of his pullover barely brushing over her nipples, she cried out.

“Sia,” he said, his voice strangled. “You’re so beautiful.”

She watched as he stood and quickly undressed and donned protection. “Lean back and open your knees slightly,” he said, crawling back on the bunk. Sia complied, meeting his eyes in a head-on collision of passion.

He knelt before her again. This time his hands circled her waist and slid to her lower back. He put slight pressure there and she helplessly arched. He supported her back as his head descended to lick like flame against her collarbone. A puff of air blown across her nipple was a tease, sending red-hot ripples straight to her groin.

He licked one nipple, then the other and Sia groaned softly in her throat, aching for more contact with his hot, wet mouth.

She reached for him, sliding her hands over his taut, smooth skin, into the silk of his hair. With pressure on the back of his head, she brought his mouth hard against her breast. His mouth closed over it, working the beaded point with his tongue, his five-o’clock shadow pleasantly abrading her skin.

With urging, he clamped his lips over her other breast, suckling her until she thought the pleasure might kill her.

He slipped a hand between her thighs to find the tight, throbbing knot of nerves. Gently he pushed her back, his mouth still on her breast. When she was flat on her back, he slipped away from her, trailing kisses down her abdomen. As he slowly drew his tongue along her most sensitive flesh, Sia restlessly moved against him. Chris moaned as he continued his dedicated assault on her senses, tying her into sensuous knots. He slipped his fingers inside of her, his tongue never stopping its delicious swirling patterns that stole her breath. She buried her hands in his hair, gripping it gently as long moans, one after the other, poured out of her as he lifted her and settled his mouth fully against her.

Crying out, her mind reeling at the pleasure, at the pure carnal joy. Her hips arched and bucked, twisted for the best angle and optimum contact with his mouth.

Hot, wild bliss. Mindless ecstasy. Terrifying freedom from the bounds she had to live within. Her pleasure crested abruptly, strongly, wringing unrestrained cries from her.

Pleasure spiraled through her and she was in his arms, immersed in his embrace, lost in his kiss as that beautiful mouth covered hers. His touch unleashed a host of needs that had lain dormant inside of her for six long, lonely years. Now they leaped and twisted, wild with the prospect of freedom.