Authors: Karen Anders
The loss of her brother had torn her family apart, and she’d simply lost everything except work. The JAG Corps and her job sustained her and honed her into a legal killing machine. Focusing her thoughts back to the investigation, she asked the ship’s resident JAG to send in the next person for questioning. In this case, it was the pilot’s wingman.
The master chief hesitated when he saw Lieutenant Saunders’s wingman standing silently but attentively through their exchange at the door. Then he said something softly under his breath and strode off down the corridor, ducking through the hatch.
Sia focused on the man in front of her in his crisp khaki uniform and aviator’s flight jacket. “Lieutenant Russell, thank you for your time.”
“I hope it helped in the investigation.” His voice was subdued, the grief at the loss of his friend and wingman poignant. Unexpectedly, Sia’s throat filled as a result of the memories of the day she’d lost her brother all in one terrible fiery crash. It was the same day she had lost the man she loved, her brother’s wingman, who had ejected to safety. “Mal and I were more than wing mates. We were best friends.”
“I am very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
He stepped into the compartment and she shut the door. She indicated the chair in front of the table. “Have a seat.” When he was settled and she’d taken her own seat again, she said, “Can you tell me about Lieutenant Saunders’s state of mind yesterday when his jet crashed into the ocean?”
He smiled, his eyes brightening. “He was psyched. We always were when we got to fly.”
Sia leaned back in her chair. “Anything happen that was out of the ordinary?”
Lieutenant Russell frowned. “The only thing that happened wasn’t out of the ordinary.”
“What is that?”
He sighed. “Master Chief Walker always seemed to be in Mal’s face.”
“They didn’t get along?”
“No. The master chief was always using what we liked to call good-natured ribbing to put him down, and Mal just ignored his behavior.”
“Do you know why the master chief had this perspective?” Sia asked.
“No, ma’am. It seemed to manifest from the first day Mal and I were assigned to this ship.”
Sia looked down at the open folder. “I don’t see any reprimands in the master chief’s file.”
Lieutenant Russell shrugged. “Mal wasn’t like that. He held his own, he told me. He didn’t need to tattle to the Navy command because an enlisted sailor didn’t like him. He was as perplexed as I was as to why the master chief immediately singled him out for abuse. We revere master chiefs in the Navy. They know just about every damn thing there is to know. We just didn’t get it.”
“He should have reported him.”
Lieutenant Russell’s shoulders drooped and his voice grew strained. “I agree, ma’am. But, Mal is…I mean was Mal.”
“Is there any other information you can provide that might help the investigation?” She saw him hesitate and look down as he ran his fingers along the brim of his hat, debating. “Anything,” she prompted. “No matter how small and insignificant.”
He looked up. The anguish on his face twisted Sia’s heart. Her memories were still painful, as if her brother had died yesterday instead of six years ago. Fresh pain flooded through her. “Lieutenant Russell?”
“I hope I’m not talking out of turn, ma’am, but I saw the master chief near Mal’s coffee before we took off.”
“In the wardroom? Enlisted personnel aren’t allowed in there,” Sia said.
“No, Mal was just about to step onto the flight deck, and he was finishing it off.” He set his hat on the table and leaned forward, his voice dropping. “I don’t want to accuse him of tampering with it, but Mal was a top-notch aviator and there’s no way in hell he would have downed that plane like that.”
“Are you willing to sign an oath to that, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, ma’am. I will.” He held her gaze and never wavered, clearly a man who was dedicated to both his friend and the Navy.
Sia dismissed Lieutenant Russell and she moved quickly. She contacted the captain via the ship’s phone and requested a search authorization for the master chief’s rack, citing the evidence from Lieutenant Russell’s oath. With his permission, Sia made her way to the master chief’s quarters with a burly master-at-arms in tow. Once inside, she started to methodically search his locker. She found nothing. Sure that she had missed something, she started the search once again. As she went through his underwear and socks, she was about to give up. Her hand brushed against a sock and she felt a hard lump. Fishing out the sock, Sia pulled the garments apart and a bottle fell out onto the deck. Reaching down, she picked it up. When she turned the label toward her, she found she held an over-the-counter product for irregularity.
Her brows furrowed as she looked down at the bright yellow bottle. Why was this in his sock drawer and not in the medicine cabinet? Then it dawned on her. He was trying to hide it.
She would have the contents of the bottle analyzed against anything that was in Lieutenant Saunders’s bloodstream. She could be holding the murder weapon in her hand. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled and goose bumps ran along her back and arms.
She needed to detain the master chief and talk to the ME who was doing the autopsy right away.
She motioned for the master-at-arms to follow her as she headed to the legal office to log the evidence and contact the ME. She dismissed the master-at-arms once she reached the office.
When there was a knock at the door, Sia rose to open it. The sea rolled and as the carrier dipped, she lost her balance and got turned around. The door slipped out of her hands. When it popped open, someone shoved her from behind hard enough to send her face-first against the far bulkhead of the office. Her head struck metal with a clanging sound that reverberated against her skull, rattling her brain. Stars exploded behind her eyes. Before she could recover from the suddenness of the push, her assailant hit her with a stunning blow to the back of the head and Sia fell into darkness.
When she woke up, she could taste blood in her mouth and smell the sea air. She opened one eye; the other one, swollen and throbbing, took a bit longer. She focused on a man sitting cross-legged in front of her. Unlike her he was dressed for the weather and the rough seas. Along with his outerwear, he had taken precautions and donned a bright orange life vest. Her hands were tied with a piece of rope in a knot that any sailor would know and that was impossible to untie. Fear sliced through her like the icy wind that battered her hair and exposed skin. She’d never been this open to the elements on the carrier, and it seemed as if they could touch the dark, clouded night sky.
“Master Chief.”
“I’m afraid you’ve stuck your nose where it doesn’t belong and your actions have caused me to remember my duty. I’m sorry about this, but you’ll have to die.”
“Your duty?” Sia spit out. “Murdering an officer is your duty?”
“I can’t let you reopen old wounds. Your brother’s ‘accident’ was pilot error just like Saunders’s ‘accident.’” He raised his hand and shook the bottle.
Sia shifted and studied the determined man before her. He wasn’t telling her everything. She got that prickly feeling, only this time more urgently. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was in a terrible position.
“Are you saying you had something to do with my brother’s death?”
He set the bottle down with secrets in his eyes. “Nope. Not saying it. What I have to say doesn’t matter where you’re going.” He rose and jerked her up by her arm with a painful grip. He pushed her to the edge of the sponson, a platform hanging on the side of the carrier, just below the flight deck. It was a sheer drop to the ocean. The plunge would kill her instantly.
“How did you get me up here with no one seeing?” she asked breathlessly as the ocean churned below her.
He laughed. “I know this ship like no one else. I have my ways. Enough talking. Say hi to Rafael for me.”
Sia didn’t give the man a chance to push her over. She lashed back with her booted foot and caught Walker right in the kneecap. She heard the bottle roll away against the bulkhead. Walker howled, but the wind whipped the words away. No amount of yelling would bring anyone up here.
He tried to backhand her, but Sia was ready, balancing on the balls of her feet. She ducked, came up with her bound hands and jabbed him in the sternum. He swung widely, sending him off balance. Sia dodged out of the way and Walker’s momentum took him over the rail, his scream of rage and fear drowned out by the wind and the ocean.
* * *
The soft breeze off the ocean touched her face as she heard the screen door open and close. Remnants of her celebratory graduation party fluttered in the breeze on the table situated on the patio.
As she glanced over, she expected to see her father, but instead a tall, dark-haired man carved out a piece of her cake and sat down.
Sia studied the strong line of his jaw, the width of his broad shoulders encased in Navy khaki. Drawn to him, she sauntered over and he looked up, capturing her with gray eyes as elusive and intriguing as smoke. She said nothing as she straddled his lap, the sun warm on her shoulders, the texture of his uniform stimulating on her fingertips. He smiled, the hint of frosting on his lips tantalizing. Her head dipped down and covered his mouth, the sweet taste of the frosting and him sending her mind into a free fall.
Warmth filtered through her, his groan soft and uncontrollable as he pressed his body against her. His mouth was hot, the press of flesh erotic and needy. If only she could get closer, hang on to the sensation, maybe she could forget what he had done. Forget…
“Miss?”
Sia tried to swim up from the dream, the memory of his mouth on hers.
“Miss? Are you all right?”
The flight attendant’s worried face peered down at Sia.
“I’m fine,” Sia said, but then she moved and the sore muscles of her arms, face and right shoulder reminded her she wasn’t.
“Would you like some water? You were whimpering in your sleep.”
Sia closed her eyes to hide her embarrassment. She looked around. Right, she was on the flight back to Norfolk, Virginia. Feeling muddled from the pain medication she’d taken, Sia gingerly touched the huge shiner that ringed her eye, flinching at the pain. She’d looked at it in the washroom mirror before she’d fallen asleep. “Yes, thank you.”
The flight attendant left to get the water.
It seemed Sia could not get away from the man who haunted her, even in her sleep. All they had shared, gone in a matter of minutes. She didn’t want to think about him. What they had shared was over in the time it took for a fighter jet to break apart and plummet to earth.
The flight attendant returned with the water. Forcing her thoughts back to the
James McCloud
and the now-deceased Master Chief Steven Walker, Sia took a sip of the cool liquid.
Sia’s investigation had ended when Walker had gone over the side of the sponson, but she hadn’t been able to find the bottle and the ME still hadn’t finished the autopsy on Lieutenant Saunders. She was left with unanswered questions in both accidents. Additional statements from the crew confirmed a volatile relationship between the pilot and the master chief. Case closed.
Except Walker’s words wouldn’t stop eating at her.
Nope. Not saying it.
Did he have something to do with the accident that had taken her brother’s life, or was he simply cruel? And what was he talking about when he cited duty as his reason for killing her?
She landed in Virginia at 1700 and intended to go home, take a long soak in the tub and sleep for twelve hours straight. But just as she pulled up to her apartment, her cell chimed and she was ordered to report to the JAG office on Naval Base Norfolk. The crisp March sky, an intense cobalt blue, and the barren trees hinting at a spring that was only weeks away did nothing to invigorate her.
At headquarters, the day was just ending. Sia was greeted by departing coworkers who first were concerned about her injuries, then ribbed her about going the wrong way. As she made her way down the hall, she saw one of her closest friends approaching. Special Agent Hollis McIntyre was one of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service’s finest members. She was tough, smart and beautiful. The smile on her face changed to deep concern as they met.
“What the hell happened to you?” Hollis said as she took in Sia’s bruises and her arm in the sling.
“It’s a long story, one that will take several glasses of wine to tell.” Hollis didn’t know anything about her family or her brother’s death. It was time she confided in her.
“Well, I hope the other guy got what was coming to him.” Hollis sent her fist into her palm.
Sia nodded. “He did, but he left more questions than answers.”
“Sounds like a thoroughly dangerous and frustrating TAD.” Hollis touched Sia’s good shoulder, giving her a squeeze.
“It was. Hence the need for wine.”
Hollis laughed, but her eyes were still serious. She gave Sia a sympathetic and solemn look and said softly, “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Sia nodded and smiled at her friend. “What brings you to JAG?”
Hollis rubbed at her tired-looking face. Her curly blond hair was more messy than usual. “A dead seaman and the guy we caught who did it. Just tying up some loose ends. I’m heading home. Why aren’t you?”
Sia smiled wryly. “Boss calls and I answer like a dutiful soldier against injustice.”
Hollis laughed. “When can we get those glasses of wine and catch up?”
“I’ll give you a call when I’m finished here. Good?”
“Yes. That will give me a chance to go home, shower and change. Been on this case too long and it’s starting to…ah…get rank.”
Waving goodbye to Hollis, Sia entered the office space where all the junior grade and clerical staff sat. Around them were the offices of the JAG team. She stopped at the desk of her aide, Legalman First Class Gabriel McBride, a young petty officer from Seattle.
“Commander Soto, welcome back. I’ve already printed out the report you sent me, and it’s ready for the captain’s review.” He handed her a folder.