The Navy's Ghost (Bad Boys of Beta Squad) (24 page)

“Chris. She thinks she drove you away and that’s why you don’t even come hang out with us when you have leave.”

“That’s bullshit.”

Todd shrugged. “That’s what I told her, but you never came around to back me up and it only makes me look like a liar. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Fuck you.”

“Can’t, not without Chris.”

Retro glower
ed.

Todd ran a hand over the back of his head.
“The way I see it, this is where you gotta figure out what’s most important, Jim. Your daddy’s issues, or the woman you love and need most. ’Cause, we both need you now, and drinkin’ ain’t gettin’ shit done. So man up and pull your head outta your ass, ’cause we gotta go get Chris and no one else can find her better’n us.”

Silence filled in behind Todd’s words, but he was done talking
, anyway. If Retro couldn’t get it together, more words wouldn’t change it. To be honest, Todd missed the camaraderie he’d shared with Jim, the easy teasing and friendship they’d had. With his marriage to Chris and Jim’s refusal of their offer, Waters had retreated and cut off his connection to them.
That shit’s gotta stop right now.

The silence stretched longer and
Todd cursed inwardly.
Guess I didn’t reach him after all.

“You want more coffee
?” He rose and stared down at his buddy, waiting for Jim look at him, or move. Hell, even breathe.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Retro held up the mug, but didn’t meet Magic’s gaze.

Todd shook his head and retreated, pouring out the cold coffee and replacing it with hot. He didn’t know what Jim would do now, but hopefully he’d pour out his liquor and get his head in the game. Todd returned to the living room with two full mugs and handed one to Jim.

“Thanks.”

Todd sat down, taking a fortifying sip. “You gonna be okay now?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.” Jim didn’t sound it, but Todd let it go.

“Good. When does the chief come in tomorrow?”

Retro g
lanced up at him blankly. “The chief?”

“Yeah, CPO Wolffe. What time does his flight come in?”

“Ooohhhh.” Retro scrubbed a hand over his face. “Oh-six-forty.”

Magic flipped his wrist and checked his watch. “So just over five hours from now.”

“Fuck.” Retro set down the mug and stood, fixing Magic with an oddly half-focused stare. “I’m gonna go take a shower. You wanna crash here tonight?”

Magic laughed a little bitterly. “Hell no. It stinks like puke and alcohol. I’ll sleep in my own bed, thanks.”

Retro grimaced. “Yeah. That would be better.”

Todd ignored the sorrow in his chest. He didn’t know if Retro meant about the stench or the Magic’s bed, but it still burned.
He fuckin’ chose this, not us.
“You good?”

“Yeah. I’m good. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Roger that.” Todd stood and headed for the door.

“Hey, Magic.”

Todd paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Thanks.” Jim didn’t move, but the tension in his shoulders translated his chagrin.

Todd nodded. “Welcome.” He took a deep breath. “You really think Wolffe can find Chris?”

Jim shrugged, but some of the old fire came back into his eyes. “I don’t know, but he’ll find clues we haven’t gotten yet. He’s the best chance at cutting down the search time.”

“Right. See you tomorrow, Retro.”

“Roger that.”

 

****

 

Jim braced his hands against the cold tile and leaned into the pounding water of his shower. His head thumped in time with his heartbeat, but the coffee had taken the edge off the nasty hangover.
Better drink more coffee or water, dumbass.

It sounded like something Todd would say, which brought up all the things he’d already said that night.
Fuck.
Jim closed his eyes and scrubbed his hair free of any remaining vomit residue from his hurling session. Damn, he was messed up.

But as much as Jim hated to admit it, Todd had a point. The question remained, could he take the relationship they’d offer
ed him after he’d ignored them for so long? Or was it too late?
What if she’s dead?

Jim’s gut rolled over and he had to grit his teeth to keep the last of the coffee down.

Shut the fuck up. It’s not over until the fat lady sings and I hear no arias.

He stomped down hard on the doubts and fears, shoving them deep into the locked box where he kept the memories of his father’s disdain. Todd was right. He had to decide what meant more to him, James Waters’ opinion, or the woman and best friend who’d run the gauntlet with him.

Jim shut off the shower and toweled himself dry in front of the mirror. He examined his haggard face, lined with age, experience, and strength. Not as pretty as Killian or Hunter, but still the face of a man and a damn good SEAL. His father’s ideals or beliefs no longer held sway. He was too old to believe everything his father told him. He loved Chris, and he wanted to share her with Todd. He’d do his damnedest to show her everything when they found her.

Even if she doesn’t want me when we bring her home.

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

There you are, you motherfuckers.

Magic found two flights, puddle jumpers, flown out of a small airstrip north of San Diego headed for Centralia and Olympia, Washington, the day before the squad had received the letters. Witnesses at the airstrip reported they’d seen the passengers loading odd packages into the cabin of a small Cesna. It had to be what they were looking for.

The door to the office opened and interrupted his thoughts as Retro came in followed by another man dressed in civilian clothing. Despite his attire, he carried himself just like the other men
of Beta Squad, his eyes scanning and cataloging the contents and personnel of the office.

Something about the newcomer brought Magic a sense of hope and relief, as if he carried the certainty of a saint with him.
This must be CPO Wolffe.

Todd rose to his feet as Jim led the
retired SEAL to the lt. commander and introduced him. Wolffe still wore the battle-readiness Todd saw every day and he didn’t look like he’d lost much in retirement. He had broad shoulders nearly dwarfing Retro and long dark hair gathered in a ponytail at the base of his neck. A goatee hid his expression other than a quick smile, but the light brown eyes the color of Todd’s grandfather’s bootleg whiskey zeroed in on Todd the moment Retro gestured at him.

“Nice to meet you,
Chief.” Wolffe held out his hand to shake, palm down.

Todd extended his own hand and Wolffe rotated his palm to clasp it.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice. What can you do to help?”

Wolffe laughed, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “Lt. Waters briefed me on the way. I need to see where you think the women were last; car, house, wherever. Then I’ll be able to get a handle on what it smells like.”

“Smells like?” Magic raised his eyebrows dubiously.

“Don’t knock it, Magic,” Retro said. “I’ve seen him sniff out, literally, a bomb before we even knew it was there. He’s got a sensitive nose.”

“Fine. I’m pretty sure Chris was taken out of our house. Car still in the drive and door jimmied, bed rumpled.”

“We’ll find her.”

“We appreciate any help you can give.”

Wolffe tilted his head
and inhaled long and slow. The golden eyes considered Todd for several heartbeats before a half smile curled Wolffe’s lips.

“You’re not convinced I’ll be of any help, are you, Chief?”

Todd grimaced and shook his head. “I gotta be honest. We’ve had the entire squad lookin’ for clues, not to mention NCIS and Intel. What can one guy, even a SEAL, do?”

Wolffe’s smile broadened, but not with derision.
“Sometimes a fresh pair if eyes, and a sensitive nose, makes all the difference. Tell you what, if I’m no more successful than you in finding your wife, Chief, I’ll jump right back on a plane and get out of your way. Deal?”

Magic
shoved all his frustration aside. They needed help and the SEALs were all about teamwork. It rankled that his squad and all their considerable abilities required outside assistance to find their women, but small shifts could turn the tide of any battle.
And Wolffe isn’t really an outsider.


Deal, Chief. Take a crack at it. We’ve come up empty so far.”

Wolffe nodded slowly, his expression
turning pensive. “Did you find anything where the other women disappeared?”

Bronco dropped into a chair at the table. “No. My wife’s car was still at the grocery store, locked up, with the
keys in the door and her purse on the front seat. Some good Samaritan turned in the keys to the manager.”

“Hmm. I want to see the car, too. What about Mrs. Killian?”

“Her car was found at the Gerry’s Gym on Linney Street and the front desk clerk of the gym said he saw her get into a black Mercedes with personalized tags that said
CRTAGNT
.”


Secret agent?” Wolffe snorted. “Arrogant much?”

“Yeah, we tracked it to a
Leon Jackson of San Diego,” Retro shot a look at Greg and the demolitions specialist frowned.

“Anyone talk to him yet?”

“No, next on the list.” Rubenovich tapped his Blackberry.

“I’d like to tag along. He might have been the last one to see Mrs. Killian.”

“We’ll have the local Law Enforcement Officers bring him in,” Retro said.

“No, better to go to him this time to take a look at his car.
It might give us more answers than the man.” Wolffe tapped his nose.

“How so?” Magic wondered why this guy seemed so sure of himself.
Definitely SEAL material.

“She was last seen getting into his car
. Might find something in there to give us a clue where she went or was going afterwards.” Wolffe shrugged nonchalantly, but Magic sensed his eagerness to begin. Or maybe it was his own.

“I’ll go,” Bam-Bam s
aid, rising.

“No, Chief. I need you here to
talk to the grocery store clerk where Mrs. Andrews disappeared.” Commander Whittleton nodded at Retro. “Lt. Waters and Chief Wolffe will visit Mr. Jackson and the Hunter house. Let’s get to work, gentlemen.”


Commander, we may have another lead. I think I’ve found some flights that left in our time frame.” Magic waved at the Whittleton.

“Good,
Chief. Show me.”

Despite the order, Magic watched Retro and Wolffe exit the room, his gut churning with his impotence.
Please, God, let them find something to tell us where the bastards took Chris.

 

****

 

Retro pulled up in front of the address they’d copied after they made a side trip to Bam-Bam’s base residence at Chief Wolffe’s insistence. He said it was to get a scent of Greg’s woman. Jim thought it weird, but didn’t question Wolffe’s mojo. They both stared at the swanky San Diego townhouse with its own covered carport. A black Mercedes SLS sat protected from the sun with the tag
CRTAGNT
displayed prominently and Wolffe rolled his eyes.

“Think he could be a little more pretentious?”

“Only if he claimed to be a SEAL.”

Wolffe
snorted. “How do you want to do this?”

“Do you need to get into the car?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go for the cop and the
excited rookie routine, see if we can shake him up a little.”

“Roger that.”

Jim got out and led the way to the front door. Wolffe ambled after him, looking for all the world like a young cop admiring a flashy car.

Jim knocked on the door and waited. It took longer than he expected and he knocked again, hearing grumbling from the other side. Eventually, the door opened revealing a dark skinned man still tying his robe.

“Yes, can I help you?”

“Mr. Jackson?”

“Yes?”

“I’m Lieutenant Waters from Coronado Naval Base and we’ve gotten a report that your Mercedes was used in a kidnapping. Are you aware of this, sir?”

“What?” The brown eyes widened and he leaned out his door. “A kidnapping?”

“That’s correct, sir.”

“Who’s been kidnapped?”


Leon?” The sultry voice called from behind him and Jim caught sight of a lovely Hispanic woman dressed only in a man’s dress shirt with tussled hair. “Is everything okay,
mi corazon
?”

“Yes, yes,
Natalia, just go back to bed. I’ll be back after I check something,” Mr. Jackson assured her as he stepped out. “Are you sure it was my Mercedes used?”

“Yes, sir. The r
eport said the tags read…” Jim checked his phone. “
CRTAGNT
. Those are your tags, correct, sir?”

“Yes, yes, those are mine.” Mr. Jackson led the way to his carport. “No, this can’t be right. My car has been here all night.
See? It’s still parked here.” Relief flooded across his face.

“Yes, sir. But the kidnapping occurred
two days ago in front of the Gerry’s Gym on Linney Street.” Jim leveled him an icy look. “Were you at Gerry’s Gym on Tuesday evening between the hours of seven and eight pm?”

“No, why would I be? I don’t even have a gym membership there. I go to
Ten Times Fitness on Wilson Boulevard.”

Jim pretended to make a note. “Where were you on Tuesday evening, then, Mr. Jackson?”

“Hey, what are you doing?” Jackson waved his hands at Wolffe, who peered into the tinted windows of the Mercedes SLS parked in the carport.

“Wow, th
is is totally the 2012 Mercedes. It’s like a two hundred thousand dollar car.” Wolffe stood and whistled as he shot a hopeful smile Jackson. “Does it have the gull-winged doors?”

“Yes, of course.” Jackson
’s expression filled with exasperation.

“Mr. Jackson, where were you on Tuesday night?” Jim interrupted.

“Can you open the doors?” Wolffe said, grinning hopefully. “Waters, you gotta see them open. They’re amazing.”

“No, I’m not going to open them.”

“Mr. Jackson—”

“Aw
, come on. Just once? I want to look inside. On my cop’s salary, I’m never gonna see one of these up close. Please?” Wolffe did his best puppy-dog face.

Jim bit the inside of his mouth to k
eep from laughing. “Mr. Jackson, Tuesday night?”

“Uhm, I was here at home.”

“Can anyone corroborate that, sir?” Jim made a note in his phone.

“Just once? Please?”
Wolffe raised his eyebrows, hopeful. “I just want look inside. I won’t touch anything.”


Can anyone else verify you were at home on Tuesday night?”

“Yes, I had a lady friend staying over.” Jackson
glanced back at the house.

“The same lady friend we saw in your house right now?”

“Uh, no. A different one.”

Jim just raised his eyebrows. “Does this lady friend have a name?”

“Where did you say you were from again?” Jackson gave Jim a suspicious look.

“Coronado Naval Base.”

He paled under his dark skin. “Are you a Navy cop?”

“Yes, sir. The name of your friend, sir?”

Jackson’s eyes flicked back to the car. “You said my car was used in a kidnapping, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That can’t be. I’ve had my car the whole time.”

“Can you open the doors, sir, so we can verify nothing was taken or stolen?”

“Yes, of course.”

He retreated to the house, Jim following to make sure
he didn’t run. Jackson fumbled in the coat closet just inside the door for a moment, then came out with a keyless fob. He returned to the carport and pressed the button. The winged doors opened soundlessly and Jim tried not to be too impressed.
Damn, that’s a sexy car.

Wolffe
caught his eye and winked before ducking under one of the wings to look inside.

“Damn,
there’s a Bose stereo.” Wolffe’s voice still sounded admiring, but his expression had intensified when Retro caught a glimpse of it through a window.

“I still need the name of your corroborating witness for Tuesday night
, Mr. Jackson.”


Uh…”


Oh, wow, there are seat warmers. That’s so cool.” Wolffe pulled back out of the car and grinned at Jackson. While the black man scanned Wolffe’s hands to make sure he hadn’t taken anything, Wolffe caught Retro’s eye and dipped his chin in a quick nod. “Thanks for letting me take a look, Mr. Jackson. That’s a sweet ride.”

“Thanks.” Jackson hurried around to look inside to make sure nothing had been planted or removed.

“One last time, Mr. Jackson, who was your companion on Tuesday night?” Retro eyed Jackson warily.
What did Wolffe find?

“Mrs. MaryAnn Killian.”

Retro’s blood ran cold.
Greg’s wife was with this guy all night? Shit!
Anger stirred, but something about the guy told Retro he hadn’t kidnapped the women. He was too worried about his cock-ride.


Did Mrs. Killian stay with you all night?”

“Yeah, you know how these bored army wives are.” Jackson closed the
gull-winged doors of his slick Mercedes. “Their husbands go off to war and someone has to keep them warm at night.”

Retro gritted his teeth.
We’re Navy, fuckwad, and while we’re saving your ass, you’re screwing our wives?
“When was the last time you saw Mrs. Killian?”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “What’s with that question?”

“Just a formality, sir. When was the last time you saw her?”

“Wednesday morning. I dropped her off at her car.” Then his eyes widened. “Oh
, my God. Has MaryAnn been kidnapped?”

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