Authors: Catherine Mann
Tags: #Romance, #General, #Suspense, #Contemporary, #Fiction
“Hey, Sophie…” Madison gestured between them, her bracelets jingling. “Hey, wait. David, this is the Major Campbell you’ve been…uh…talking about from the case?”
Sophie lifted one eyebrow. “Talking about?”
David stayed diplomatically silent, because yeah, he’d griped about what a pain in the “briefs” she’d been more than once.
Madison laughed softly, too damn knowingly. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”
Simultaneously, David and Sophie agreed. For once.
“Just base business.”
“Only through work.”
Madison quirked a delicately arched eyebrow. “Okay.”
His thoughts shot back to that moment at the courthouse when they’d been tangled up together on the ground, his body revved by the feel of her soft curves
against him. The fire had been stirred all the more by the cheap thrill of touching her afterward, when she’d been disoriented. And how pathetic was that?
A flash of awareness sparkled in her eyes for an unmistakable moment before she turned to Madison, giving David a full view of her back,
her narrow waist, the curve of her hips
. “I understand my son wandered down this way.”
If she thought she could brush him off, she could think again. David frowned. “I thought they were at your house.”
“He’s not here?” Sophie paled under her tan.
All too well David understood the wayward nature of parental imagination. Worst-case scenarios could script themselves with little real provocation. She didn’t need more stress after their afternoon.
Madison fidgeted with her bracelets. “They were working together on a science project for the fair. They know not to walk along the water by themselves, so they must be on the sidewalk.”
The sound of youthful squeals carried on the gritty desert wind before the children came into view.
Sophie sagged, then stiffened. “David, I don’t want Brice to know about my concussion.”
Madison gasped. “Concussion? What happened?”
“I just fell, nothing big as far as I’m concerned. But since Lowell’s death, Brice is afraid something’s going to happen to me.”
“Oh, honey.” Madison leaned closer. “Have you taken him to see a psychiatrist? I can give you the name of a really good family counselor I saw after my second divorce.”
“Thanks, I’ll let you know. Right now, I just want to get my son home.”
“Of course.” Madison backed off. “He’s your kid.”
“Yes. He is.”
Sophie’s full lips curved into the first uncomplicated smile he’d ever seen from her. Maternal pride illuminated her face with the timeless beauty of a mother’s love for her child. She was so damn gorgeous, he felt like he’d been blindsided by a missile strike.
The roaring need to see her smile for him drowned out anything else.
Then she turned away to greet her son, leaving David more unsettled than ever.
Two bedraggled children raced into sight. Sophie walked up the driveway to meet them. Wind lifted her golden hair, exposing the vulnerable curve of her neck. She hooked an arm along her child’s shoulders just over his backpack. A silky curtain of hair slid forward and blocked her face as she listened to Brice.
David had the answer to his question regarding Sophie’s parenting. Her ease with her son was evident.
He would have been better off not knowing.
Madison elbowed him in the side. “Just base business, huh?”
Haley Rose catapulted forward, saving David from responding to a question he wasn’t sure he could answer.
“Hi, Dad!” She flung aside her backpack and locked her arms around his waist.
“Hey there, runt. Missed you today.” He tugged her trailing dark braid.
David patted her back and felt the same kick of love he’d experienced the first time she curled her tiny fingers around his.
He’d thought his daughter was happy. But now as he watched her with Sophie’s son, he couldn’t help but think
how his daughter was aching to replace the half brother she’d lost. Leslie couldn’t be bothered to get her kids together, and her first husband thought a clean break was better and to hell with how many times Haley Rose cried herself to sleep.
“Ouch, Dad. You’re squeezing too tight.” Haley Rose wriggled out of his hug.
“Sorry, kiddo. Did you get much work done on your project?”
Haley Rose snatched up her backpack and hitched it over her shoulder. “Me and Brice made a bunch of notes. Can he and his mom stay for supper so we can show you?”
He looked fast at Sophie and found awareness quickly replaced by panic in her eyes that said,
No way in hell.
He couldn’t agree more. And he hoped Sophie fully grasped how important it was not to let the kids misunderstand. He didn’t want either child to get matchmaking ideas.
His daughter was too fragile to take another disappointment right now. Sophie needed to hear just why it was so important. The sooner, the better. But not here where the kids could overhear.
He would broach the subject in private. And if he could wrangle some time to address the subject of Caleb Tate’s trial? Then all the better.
* * *
After tossing and turning all night, then court all day, the last thing she needed was extra paperwork in the office. At least the building was quiet after hours. She would make it up to Brice with a mother-son video-game tournament on Saturday—thanks to her military training
on the firing range, she could actually hold her own, something her son liked to brag about. She pushed aside questions about what David and his daughter did for bonding time on the weekends.
Focus on work. The man had already stolen enough of her concentration this week.
Sophie sat at her desk, searching through Captain Caleb Tate’s deposition for something she must have missed. She’d already reviewed Berg’s deposition and statements made by others who’d flown with Tate that day.
An empty to-go box held the stain of the taco salad she’d quickly downed for supper, along with two cups of coffee. A fresh cup of java steamed beside a photo of her son winning last year’s science fair.
Right now, her case straddled the fence. Tate had chosen a jury. Most likely betting on having another aviator on the trial who would sympathize with him.
Granted, for her, the burden of proof wasn’t as tough in a military court. The rules of evidence weren’t as strict as in a civilian trial. That didn’t mean she could—or ever would—slack off.
She could read the depositions on the computer, but for this kind of brainstorming, she preferred printouts and government contracts, using colored pencils and highlighters to draw connections and graph notes.
Thumbing through pages, she scanned past the questions about his name. His address. His time at the location. She paused at the part about his job information.
CAMPBELL:
State your occupation for the record.
TATE:
I am an AC-130 FCO—fire control officer.
CAMPBELL:
On that day, what type of sortie were you flying?
TATE:
We were flying an operational test mission of the new cannon mounting system.
CAMPBELL:
And what does that entail?
TATE:
The current gun mounting system on the AC-130 is from the Vietnam era. It requires a lot of maintenance to keep it running and a lot of crewmen to fire it. The system we were testing updated the stabilization gyros and aiming systems of the gun and took tasks that were manual and made them automatic.
Sophie reached for her coffee and sipped, shutting out the echoes of footsteps in the hall as people left for the day.
CAMPBELL:
Such as?
TATE:
The old gun was loaded by crewmen opening the breech and jamming a new shell in. The new system has an autoloader.
CAMPBELL:
What kind of round are we talking about here?
TATE:
It’s a cannon shell.
CAMPBELL:
What’s the difference between that and a bullet?
At that point in the deposition, Tate’s face had gone tight, his irritation showing through. Anger could be a good thing, since it made people slip up. She hoped maybe there was something in this next part she may have missed in earlier reviews.
TATE:
You don’t know the difference between a bullet and a cannon shell?
CAMPBELL:
For the record.
TATE:
The difference is a bullet kills with kinetics and a cannon shell blows things up.
Then, Tate’s lawyer had silenced him, reminding the young captain to keep his cool.
Did he have a quick temper?
She jotted “Quick to anger?” in the margin.
CAMPBELL:
On that day, the system under test fired a round that landed off the range, causing damage to a house and injury to a six-year-old boy. Correct?
TATE:
That is correct.
CAMPBELL:
Describe to me your actions from the firing of the last round on the range to the firing of the round which caused the mishap.
TATE:
After the last round on the range, I placed the master arm switch to
Off
and verified the safe light was green, showing the gun was disarmed. We received clearance to exit the range, at which point I verified again that the gun was not armed. And we exited the range and headed back toward Nellis Air Force Base. Approximately ten minutes later, there was a very loud sound that came from behind me, which apparently was the cannon firing off a round. I verified again that my switches were all in
Safe
and reported the incident over the radio to Nellis Command Post.
CAMPBELL:
So you’re telling me the gun just went off on its own. You didn’t touch any switches, turn any dials, push any buttons, nothing, nothing at all?
TATE:
I just said that, didn’t I?
CAMPBELL:
Would there be a way to prove that you didn’t pull the trigger on that gun by mistake? Any printouts? Any recording that would show that?
TATE:
Yes, ma’am, if we were on the range, we would have had all of that. But because the test was complete, we had turned off all the data recorders that would have shown that information.
Her eyes halted on the middle of the page. Hairs on the back of her neck rose along with the sense that she was being watched. It was late. And she was almost certainly alone. Uneasiness settled over her and she checked out of the corner of her eye.
David Berg filled her doorway. Silently, he stood watching her. God only knew how long he’d been there. Anger stirred—at him for not announcing his arrival and at herself for even caring.
Well, he could just wait until she was ready to talk.
* * *
David stood in the half-open door of Sophie’s office. After the way she had raced to leave his place yesterday, he figured he might not be welcome here. But he had to address the bad, bad idea of their kids hanging out together. He needed to have that talk away from his daughter’s little listening ears. He also wanted her to take a second look at Caleb Tate’s training records, to fully grasp his top-notch aviator skills.
All the same, he intended to keep a solid thirty-six inches between himself and Sophie at all times. No standing close enough for him to catch a whiff of her
shampoo. He’d already determined her perfume only had a radius of twenty-four inches as long as the ceiling fan didn’t swirl the air around too much in her little office. He spent a lot of time analyzing every detail of how Sophie affected him so he could do his best to resist.
With her prestigious diplomas on the wall, including a law degree from Duke, she could have worked at a high-powered firm and instead she’d chosen to serve in uniform. He had to respect that, even if she was on the opposite side with her current case.
Maybe she didn’t need the money, if her husband left a hefty estate. She radiated the perfect image of simple refinement, one he burned to muss.
Her hair was pinned up in a twist, no doubt to hide the bandage beneath. What other surprises did Sophie have hidden under that cool facade? The glimpses of her with her son still rocked his preconceptions of the killer shark of a counselor.
Thirty-six inches apart.
David rapped a knuckle against the door.
Sophie held up a quick hand for him to wait and finished reading the paper in front of her. “Be right with you.”
A scattering of books and folders littered her desk, proclaiming productivity without chaos. She restacked the sheaf of papers and set it aside.
The leather chair squeaked as she shifted to face him. “Hello, Major Berg.”
She spoke with a professional tone he appreciated, needed.
“Major Campbell.”
Rolling back her chair, she motioned for him to sit in one of the two chairs across from her desk. A full desk between them. Good.
“I’ll get to my questions about Captain Tate in a minute. But first, we need to get something else out of the way.” He needed to move this visit along faster before he did something stupid, like haul her in for a kiss and to hell with the consequences. “I don’t think our kids should play together.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “And your reason why?”
“Because I don’t want my daughter to get hurt.”
“It’s not like they’re dating.”
“If only it was that simple.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. He didn’t particularly relish trotting out his crappy personal life. “Haley Rose has been really, uh…” He searched for the right word. “She’s been really fragile since her mom left.”
Sophie’s shoulders relaxed and genuine sympathy lit her eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that. I understand how frustrating it is wanting to cushion a child from the harsh realities of life.”
“Amen to that.”
“Berg…David…” She leaned forward on her desk. “I’m not interested in a relationship. So your daughter is safe from thinking I’m going to step into her life.”
Whoa, wait. She thought he was here to make sure they didn’t have a
relationship
? “It’s more complicated than that.” He was going to have to spill it all. “My ex had a son from her first marriage. Haley Rose grew up with him, but when my ex left, Hunter went back to live with his biological father. It’s not healthy for my daughter to use your son as a substitute brother.”