Her brow furrowed.
“Other times . . . it was a lot like this.”
“This?”
“Yeah, a lot of waiting. Sitting around watching a place and waiting for shit to go down. Then, in the blink of an eye, everything could go sideways.”
Sometimes he still dreamed he was back there in a firefight, with mortars shrieking overhead. Even more unnerving were the roadside IEDs. Even when you were vigilant and knew what to look for, sometimes it all came down to shitty luck.
“I can’t imagine being in a place with bullets flying around,” she said.
“You get used to it. You’d be surprised.” He gazed through the windshield, surveying the area, as he thought back to all those long, dusty days. He looked at Kira, and something about her openness made him want to keep talking.
“When you’re over there, it’s different. You’re not afraid of death so much as failing. Not being there when your brothers need you.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to explain, but it’s like a family. Tighter than a family.”
“Do you have any real brothers?”
“Two,” he said. “But I’m closer to the guys I served with, when it comes down to it. Something about being over there together. Everyone depends on each other for everything. I miss that sometimes.”
He looked at her, and she was watching him closely. “So why’d you leave?” she asked.
She didn’t say “quit,” and he felt strangely grateful.
“Things were winding down. And there was an incident. Liam took a bullet.” Jeremy didn’t mention that the bullet was nearly fatal or that he personally took out the man who fired it. “Liam decided he wanted to get out and get something else going, and he asked me to be part of it.”
Kira’s gaze narrowed, as if she knew he was omitting a lot. But he didn’t want to get into it now. Maybe someday. Or maybe not.
He lifted the binoculars. “Heads up. We’ve got action.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
KIRA ZOOMED in on the car. It was a blue Mini Cooper, tinted windows, and she couldn’t see how many people were inside.
The car veered around a row of oil drums and pulled to a stop beside a double-wide trailer that looked to be some sort of operations center.
She shifted her focus to the other side of the lot.
The gatehouse was empty.
“Hey, the guard’s gone,” she said.
“He opened the gate three minutes ago and left his post,” Jeremy reported.
“How did I miss that?”
“You were talking instead of looking.”
She ignored the jab. “Think his being gone was intentional?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Damn it. I should have snapped a picture of him.” She lowered her camera and scanned the broader area. No more cars on the road. So was the driver of the Mini meeting someone? Picking someone up?
“Here, let me see those,” she said.
Jeremy handed over the binoculars.
She sighed. “I didn’t get a good angle on the license plate. Did you?”
“No.”
She lowered the binoculars and spotted another vehicle speeding down the road. It was a pickup truck, and its lights went off as it neared the gate.
Kira’s nerves fluttered as the truck turned into Xavier Shipping, where the gate was still open.
“This feels sketchy,” she said.
“Yep.”
The truck veered around the same line of oil drums and parked alongside the Mini. No one got out, and again, Kira didn’t have a good angle on the license plate.
“I want those tags.”
Jeremy looked at her.
“They could be important,” she added.
“Why?”
“A clandestine meeting exactly one week after Ollie was here running surveillance right before his murder? This has to be related.”
“You’re assuming a lot. This may not be a ‘clandestine’ anything. You don’t know for sure that Ollie was ever here. And this may not be a regular meeting.”
“What if it is? Look at them.” She nodded toward the property. “The guard disappears. Two cars show up. They’re sitting there waiting for someone. I need to know who they are and what they’re doing there.”
Jeremy rubbed his chin as he stared out the window. The beard was gone, but he had some major five o’clock shadow going tonight, and she was not going to think about how good he looked. She loved his sharp cheekbones and the intense expression in his eyes when he was on a job. There was nothing sexier to her than a man on a mission.
His overprotectiveness was starting to get under her skin, though. He’d trained in an elite military unit, and she didn’t have a shred of doubt that if it weren’t for her, he would be halfway across that field by now, stealthily approaching the action, so he could figure out what was going down.
“We need intel,” she said. “Let’s get closer and take a look at those tags.”
Even in the dimness, she could see his jaw tighten.
“Jeremy, come on. Otherwise, what are we here for? We’re wasting our time.”
He looked at her, and she saw the conflict in his eyes. She considered batting her lashes and flirting, but she had a feeling he wouldn’t go for that.
“You want to leave me here and you can go?” she asked.
“No.”
She’d known he wouldn’t agree to that. She simply looked at him and waited.
“We’ll get closer,” he said finally. “But we do this my way. Understood?”
“Roger that.”
“Don’t be glib.”
“I’m not.” She looped the camera strap over her head. “I’ll follow your lead.”
He waited another moment, maybe second-guessing his decision. Then he reached up and switched off the interior light before quietly opening the door of the truck. Kira followed suit. She walked around the front of the pickup and waited for instructions.
The August air was thick and humid, and the low hum of cicadas surrounded them.
“We’ll hug the trees to the west,” he said.
“Sounds good.” She had no idea which direction was west.
“Stay low, and don’t create a silhouette. Don’t talk. And keep close to me. Got it?”
“Yes.”
He set off into the knee-high grass and aimed for the nearest clump of trees. Kira followed, staying as close as she could without bumping into him. Cool water seeped into her sneakers, and it soon became clear that this “field” was more of a marsh. The air smelled faintly of fish and rot, and she hoped they weren’t traversing a septic field.
Jeremy moved briskly, staying low and close to the trees. He reached back and caught her arm as the ground sank abruptly and she nearly tripped. She eased closer and focused on keeping her footing while he navigated the way. Her ankles were underwater now, and bog seemed to suck at her feet. Her socks squished with every step, but Jeremy’s footsteps were silent, and she made a note to ask him how the hell he did that.
It was dark with only a half-moon to guide them, which should have been a good thing, but she was feeling a little freaked out as they moved deeper and deeper into the marsh. There had to be snakes in here. Moccasins or maybe copperheads. Stifling a shudder, she tried not to picture them slithering up her jeans.
Jeremy reached back, catching her again as she stumbled into him. Somehow he was able to predict her movements without watching her. She tucked her fingers into the waist of his jeans. His body felt warm against her knuckles, and he either didn’t notice or didn’t want to acknowledge her hand there.