Holiday Op

Chapter Two

The West Coast suited him. In less than ten hours since he'd defused the bomb, Devin was back on home base.

His best friend would tease him that there were advantages to playing badly with others. He was just lucky there had been no TV cameras to capture his behavior. If there had, life would be pretty different right now.

Getting a verbal berating was the worst of it, and he was grateful for that. He knew he wouldn't be so glib in the future. If it ever happened again, that he had to work with Blicksen, he'd follow the appropriate channels for reporting the guy. That was how the bureaucracy worked.

Bright sunshine warmed his skin. He grinned as he pulled his dolphin gray Porsche into the parking lot of the VONS grocery store on Orange Avenue in Coronado, California.

Checking the time on his heirloom Rolex, he noted he still had two hours before he had to be at the EOD training facility. His temporary change of assignment was going to be superb. Working at the Amphibian Base, teaching the ins and outs of EOD was right up his alley. He preferred it to the political pussyfooting he had to do when he worked with D.C. agencies. Courses on ‘getting along’ and diplomacy weren't his cup of tea.

The thought made him chuckle. He preferred coffee or beer-in other words, locating the source of the issue, taking care of it, and moving on. That was his forte. With the other agencies-anything that wasn't Navy-he had to share info, play nice, and be polite. He wasn't thrilled with the “I know, you know” concept. From his training, he'd learned “keep the Intel close.” This concept saved lives. He would gladly leave the issues up to his CO.

The punch in the face to Blicksen had landed him with a verbal reprimand, but nothing further. The new CO had written a small cock ‘n bull paragraph about stress and reassigning duties, and off Devin had headed to home base for a new assignment.

Ah, San Diego and its beautiful weather made up for a lot of long nights being stuck in snow and slush. If he became forlorn for the white stuff, he could drive to the mountains of Julian for fresh homemade apple pie, the local tourist specialty, or head up to Big Bear for snowboarding.

He exited his car and made his way to the back entrance of the grocery store. Lunch and H2O were pretty much the only items on his list, but it never hurt to walk the aisles. When he stepped inside, cool air bathed him and the scent of baked goods teased his nose.

Life was good!

Turning into an aisle, a woman smashed into him, covering his happy thoughts with… strawberry shortcake. Sticky, gooey, and messy stuff clung to his uniform.

"Oh, I'm soooo sorry!” Light green eyes held his.

He stared for a minute. It was she, the other woman from the picture. The incredible things this woman had done-raising money, donating to others-there was so much to admire. Her eyes had drawn him to the picture when he'd first seen it, and they mesmerized him now. “It's you!"

Her eyebrows crinkled. “I don't know what you mean. Do I know you?"

"Yes. No. I mean… I'm sorry about your sister.” Those words seemed to be verbal bullets that struck her body hard. She wobbled. Horror covered her face. Backing away from him, she dropped the rest of the cake to the ground.

There was only one way to go, the way she came. She disappeared into the store.

He didn't hesitate. Following the trail of shortcake and strawberry squish, it ended at the ladies bathroom. He knocked. No answer. Pushing the door open, he looked in. There was another door, and she'd used it.

Brenda Pente's sister had left the building.

What had she been thinking? Leaving the house for cake hadn't been a good reason. Not good at all! Anyone could have recognized her or said something and she would have freaked. She hadn't been ready. Why did I go?

Not more than an hour ago, the police had been here. Talking at her as if she were a toddler with a hearing issue.

Going to the freezer for the fiftieth time, she looked for something sweet to eat. Nothing there. Only frozen butter, ice cubes, and a box of baking soda. Nothing good was ever located there when she needed it most.

Closing the door, she leaned against the refrigerator. The pile of wrapping paper and presents mocked her. It was her sister's turn to come here for the holidays. They would go get a tree on Christmas Eve and decorate it.

Tears welled, spilling over. Her eyes slammed shut and she put her face on the metal. The cool surface eased the puffiness she could feel around her eyes. Pain eased back slowly.

An image popped in front of her eyes. That man.

Who was that guy? Did he know her sister? He wouldn't have just said something because he recognized the resemblance between Brenda and her, would he? He couldn't be that crude, could he?

Pushing back from the fridge, she didn't think so. The guy was in uniform. Unlikely he was a reporter. She was pretty sure she'd deck one of them if they'd startled her like that.

The guy… there was something. She shook her head. Maybe it was just the clothes. She always felt better, more comfortable, around members of the military. It was one of the reasons she lived in San Diego. Dad had been stationed here on Coronado for a while. He was a West Coast man through and through, and Mom was an East Coast preppy. They were no Ozzie and Harriet. Rather, observers would see their passion and designate them a Jolie & Pitt from Mr. & Mrs. Smith or the Robinson parents from Lost in Space.

Her whole life she'd wanted that kind of love and connection. Brenda wouldn't have that now. A knot formed in Kathryn Marie's throat. Tears that couldn't be restrained fell.

For a second time, she asked herself, should I have stayed instead of slipping out the back? That guy looked like he needed to speak with her. Did he know something?

Leaving the grocery before she had confronted the military man didn't give her any answers. That was one of the problems with splitting before you knew what the issue was. On the other hand, she was such a wreck she wasn't sure what she could and couldn't handle. Her brain felt hypersensitive. Like it could only deal with a few thoughts, and then it shut down completely and there was absolutely no reviving it and putting it back on track.

Sunburn gave her skin a similar reaction. Made it impossible to wear clothes. It was the only thing she could liken it to.

Did other people have these problems? Or, was she thinking randomly?

Was there a right way to grieve?

The tears stopped for now.

She shrugged. Second-guessing herself wasn't helpful. If she stayed on these thoughts, they'd continue to loop in her mind. Best thing she could do was let it all go. If she were meant to have answers, they would come. With the military guy, if they were meant to meet again, it would happen. She had to believe that.

Slipping out of her jeans and blouse, she pulled on her dad's old boxer shorts and her mom's sorority T-shirt. Navy SEAL on the bottom and a Tri-Delta on top, it was an interesting combination, no doubt. Of course, that's what Dad had been, Team ONE, and Mom was the looker and the sorority girl staying at the Hotel del Coronado on spring break. A chance meeting at McP's, and they'd fallen madly in love and had married by the end of the week.

Swallowing another rising knot in her throat, she avoided looking at the mass of pictures on the far side of the desk. Her parents had passed when their forty-foot boat had been caught in a storm. What a heart crushing blow that had been to her and her sister. Now, Brenda was gone. She was alone.

Knees buckled as she crumpled to the floor. Emotion grew like a tidal wave crashing over her, and tears flooded down. Sounds, guttural and harsh, poured from her mouth.

Pain. It was too much!

Death wasn't fair.

Oblivion dragged her into a blessed darkness.

Some time later, arms lifted her, picking her off the floor. She was disoriented, but warm. A feeling of safety swept through her system and she snuggled deeper against someone.

Daddy?

Whatever was happening, she refused to wake. Nothing was going to disrupt her first feelings of calm in a long, long time.

Eyes squeezed tighter, she relaxed more, drifting further into the dark. Sleep was a gift-oblivion was even better.

Devin sat on the lounge chair next to the bed watching her. A poinsettia was at his feet. He'd remembered his mom had liked them, so he'd bought one at the grocery store.

In person, she was prettier than the picture on her sister's credenza. But even then he'd felt a tangible pull toward her. He hadn't understood it then, any more than he did now. What were the odds that he'd meet her in person? If his mom were standing here, she'd say destiny had a hand in it. There were no accidents, only “mean to” moments. He missed his mom and dad.

Joining EOD had happened that way-mechanical skills combined with chance. He scratched his chin, thinking about those treasured early days with his dad. The times they had spent tinkering on all sorts of things. When his dad retired from the SEAL teams, Devin had been really young. Running every day, working out together, learning a multitude of skills from his dad had been a natural fit for them both. Until, his dad and mom died in a car crash.

Coupled with that turning point in his life-the day when he had disarmed a bomb at a grocery store-the Navy had approached him within twenty-four hours. They asked him to join up in exchange for a college degree, and he'd agreed. Joining the Navy made him feel close to his dad. He'd even achieved his master's degree in mechanical engineering, breezing through the classes and drinking in the theoretical information like it was soda. The Navy had been good to him. Different departments continued to seek him, but EOD remained his favorite spot.

If it weren't for the whole diplomacy issue, he'd still be in the field dismantling, defusing, and generally disarming stuff as well as sorting through the latest intelligence information, going on assignments, etc. Of course, the duty he pulled now was on the sweet side. Teaching-he really did enjoy it.

Checking his watch, his dad's SEAL Team Rolex, he had to leave soon. A buddy of his had taken the first class. He'd have to be there, though, in another couple of hours for some hands-on work.

In the meantime, a beautiful woman with eyes that glittered like pale emeralds lay in front of him. What was he supposed to do with her? His mind had a million ideas and his body was all too ready to hope those thoughts might come true. He closed his eyes and pondered them.

Smack!

He rolled flat to the floor without even opening his eyes. When they finally sprang open his gun was drawn and he was aiming the barrel at Kathryn Marie Pente. So much for falling asleep.

She glared at him. What was he supposed to do! He was required to carry a sidearm.

Her lips drew into a thick pursed pucker.

Man, she was beautiful! Staring daggers at him like Queen Boudica of the Britons, her anger was breathtaking. He'd always had a soft spot for strong, independent women, especially one's who made a difference in their community. Of course, the angel before him had golden hair and a melodic voice, unlike the queen who was known for her piercing war cry and her flaming red hair, as well as leading a tribal uprising to protect her people against forces of the Roman Empire. He'd loved that story from high school. Kathryn Marie made her own stand to save the world, as evidenced by those pictures in her sister's office. She was a powerhouse, a wee one he wanted to know better.

A smile spread his lips wide. He'd bet serious bucks this woman didn't know how pretty she was.

The green-eyed vision shook off the mantel of her anger and squared her shoulders. His smile must have done the trick, for her lips finally lost their tension. On her face was an expression of pure resilience and courage. “The gun."

"You first.” He nodded at the pillow she held at the ready.

Humor lit her eyes for a few moments. “No way. This is my house. Owner's privilege."

Devin holstered the gun. He backed up until he felt the chaise behind him and then he sat. “Fine, I'm game. But if you discharge that weapon, I reserve the right to… uh, duck."

Lowering the pillow, a smile slid over her lips before disappearing. But she followed suit, perching herself on the end of the bed. “Who are you? And what are you doing in my home?"

"My name is Captain Devin Walds. I'm an EOD expert and the one who disabled the bomb in your sister's office.” His eyes held tight to hers as he said, “I'm so sorry about the loss of your sister."

Her eyes filled with pain, but she didn't look away. According to what he'd found out, she was a Navy brat and must have met her fair share of sailors through the years. Her eyes held the contact and he watched a core of strength rise in her. It tightened her features and made her eyes glitter like diamonds. This woman had strength. He'd be loath to admit that to anyone, but he admired that trait. Especially when it came to holding one's ground. It said a lot about how a person progressed in life.

She nodded. “Thank you, Captain."

"Call me Devin or Dev."

"Okay. I'm-"

"Kathryn Marie Pente,” he completed.

"Yes.” Turning her head to the side, like a puppy trying to see the world from a different angle, she asked, “So how did you know me? Was it the picture of me on the news? Or, did you look me up?” Her breath caught and she gulped. “You haven't been watching me, have you?"

"No!” He reached toward her, but she pulled back slightly, causing him to retract his arm. “I wouldn't do that to you. I saw your picture… when I was in your sister's office. After I dismantled the bomb, I sat there waiting for my team to come up and remove it."

"Bren's office.” Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back. “She was my big sister."

He nodded. If she started crying, he wasn't quite sure what he would do. Should he comfort her? Gather her into his arms and tell her everything would be okay? That's what a woman wanted, right? But, he wasn't sure her life would be okay. No one had caught Brenda's murderer, and there still was no sign of the terrorist who set the bomb.

"Was it you who decorated the office? I see the same color scheme here.” His tone was soft, gentle.

She nodded.

"There's a serenity and comfort in the design.” Trying to give her more time to steady herself, he looked at her easel and scattered brushes, then continued. “Did you paint the paintings in her office, too?"

"Yes.” She swallowed, took several deep breaths, and found some steadiness. “I'd painted them at my grandparents’ beach house in Old Greenwich, Connecticut. My mom grew up there. A lovely place, it's right on the water. Only a stone's throw from the public beach, and yet our little piece of heaven was perfect. Big enough to entertain family and friends, sunbathe, paint, play with the dogs, swim, and sail off of…"

He couldn't keep his eyes off of her. He'd never been able to pin the word ethereal to a woman until this one. An inner glow seemed to light her countenance: her skin, hair, face, and eyes radiated.

"Please don't let me stop you.” He could listen to her for hours. “I like learning about you."

"Why? You don't know me, and I'm not sure I want you to know this much about me.” She mumbled a few words that sounded close to-at least not yet.

She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. “I should have called the cops the minute I awoke and saw you.” An emotion passed over her face. He wasn't sure what it was, but it seemed to be tenderness. Or did he just hope that's what he saw?

"Why didn't you?"

Rubbing her arms, she looked away. This was the first time he hadn't seen her confront her feelings. In her mind, she might still be in the process of making a decision about him, but her body language was there. Kathryn Marie liked him. A feeling he wasn't used to pulled at him at that thought.

He groped for a topic, anything to keep her talking. “I think we have more in common. Were you a SEAL pup?"

Her eyes widened as he used the term. “Yes.” The sun shone through her features like the light originated from inside of her. Even without words, he could tell she was proud of her dad, and never minded being called a SEAL pup. The term they gave Navy SEAL children had too much endearment attached to it.

"Where were you?” she finally asked.

"My dad was Team TWO on the East."

"I don't meet a lot of pups. Do you?” There was something she was searching for, needed to ask him. He'd make it easy on her.

"Just ask what you need to. I'm an open book."

"Okay.” Placing her hands on the bed, she braced herself and looked him in the eye. “What made you feel you had a right to break into my home?"

"I brought cake,” he teased. “And a plant."

But her jaw pushed out. Her expression grew stony and serious.

He didn't know what to do with her reaction. What could he say? That he'd researched her and knew her father was a SEAL too, or that he just wanted to assure himself that the connection he felt might be there-was. He sighed. Didn't she want the cake? Should he have gotten her a Christmas cactus instead? Why wasn't relating to women easier?

A mere six feet separated her from him. He wanted to respect her. She was vulnerable. Her clothes-the T-shirt and boxers-revealed sexy lengths of skin. Gold, tanned, and not a single scar, just long expanses of flesh. It wasn't right to think of her as sexy and desirable right now. She needed him to just be a friend, someone to lean on. He could do that.

He swallowed and shifted in his seat. Tucking his libido back into place, he concentrated on the woman before him. She'd been through a lot, and he didn't want to rush this. For some reason he couldn't shake this overwhelming feeling, a need to protect her, make her feel safe and secure.

"Okay. You're right. I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have just walked in. Though, until the person who killed your sister is caught, you should probably lock the door.” He nodded toward the front door.

"I did!” Kathryn Marie stood quickly. Every muscle in her body was tensed. “I never forget. Honest."

He was on the move before she could take another step. It was a small one-bedroom apartment with a balcony, and with his careful search he established it was definitely empty. “All clear."

Devin saw her eyes glance over the cake sitting on the counter in the kitchen. Momentarily, there was warmth, until she zeroed in on the desk.

A look of fear crossed her face.

Watching her walk to the old desk by the window set off his radar. There was a piece of brown paper with the message: “You're next! XoXo!” A lock of gold hair lay on top sprinkled with white flower petals. The shiny tress was almost the exact shade of Kathryn Marie's, only slightly different, and the petals were fresh and too white.

She looked at him. Terror filled her face. “Devin!"

The one word said it all. Then she slipped to the floor in a dead faint.

This time when she woke, Kathryn Marie didn't feel warm, comfortable, happy, or safe! Her head and neck ached and she was tucked into an overstuffed armchair. Devin stood nearby, looking down at her.

Seeing him within arm's reach made every Knight-in-Shining-Armor fantasy come true. Logically, she knew she should probably put all her trust in the cops, but there was something about him that she liked. They had common ground. A SEAL pup was worth believing in. Also, inside her-her inner voice said he was a good soul. She wanted to know him better.

Right now though as she came awake, a lot of people were in her small apartment. They looked like cops. She wished the thought of them eased her senses, but she didn't particularly enjoy law enforcement. She respected the need for them. It had to be a tough job. But, she was frustrated, thus far none of them had found her sister's killer; and until this moment, she hadn't personally felt at risk. Who was going to make the world feel safe again? Could she do it?

"Miss Pente? Are you aware enough to answer some questions for us?” asked a man in a highly-tailored brown suit. The dark brown of his Gucci tie was almost too much.

"You're not a cop, are you?” It wasn't subtle, but she didn't particularly care for souls who beat around the bush.

"FBI. I'm Agent Skylark.” He sat in a twin chair across from her. “I'd like to ask Mr. Walds to step outside while we speak."

"No,” she replied quickly. “I don't know you and I'm tired of the unknown."

"From what I've learned, you haven't known him very long either.” Agent Skylark studied her, his eyes traveling up and down.

"That's not your place to judge, that's mine.” She was done. Not a huge fan of law enforcement, she did the best she could. The feelings were left over from the death of her parents, but she tried to push past them. “Here's the scoop. I don't know anything. Take the flower petals, the note, and the hair, and see what you can find. Dust my doorknob, do the voodoo you need to do, and then please leave.” Standing, she nodded at Devin. “Can you stay until they go?"

"I… yeah. But I do need to go to work shortly.” Devin looked a little taken aback, but he flowed with it. Good man.

She crossed the room, entered her bedroom, and locked herself in the bathroom. Turning on the faucet, she splashed water on her face. The cool water refreshed her.

Was there really someone out to get her? Well, they could bank on this. She wasn't going down without a fight.