Red Sky at Morning

Chapter

Seventeen

KERRY FLEXED HER hands and peered at her laptop screen. Her report was almost done, the data cataloged neatly into columns that laid out in black and white the discrepancies she’d found. It wasn’t a smoking gun, she realized, more a pattern of carelessness and lack of accountability in moving funds from one account to the other, but the pattern was there, and if they got nothing else, would provide the government auditors a place to start.

If nothing else. Kerry rubbed her lower lip. Mark had taken the data storage cube back and secured it at the office, but the information they may or may not have gotten from there would have to wait for Dar’s inspection. Only Dar had the algorithms to unlock the tracks they’d copied, and those were tucked inside her head and nowhere else.

Kerry hadn’t asked her, yet, if she remembered what they were. It was a scary kind of question, and she knew concussions did strange things sometimes. She didn’t think the injury was affecting Dar, but it was hard to say; certainly her lover had been quieter and more withdrawn than usual since she’d been here.

She knew Dar was grateful for her presence. Kerry was equally grateful that she’d followed her instincts and did what she’d done, especially after Dar had told her this morning what had happened to her as a child. “That poor little kid.” She shook her head slowly. “I wish I’d been there for you, Dar. I swear I do.”

The room, of course, was empty except for her and her laptop. Dar had been taken down for another scan of her head and for a visit to the orthopedic surgeon. Kerry had offered to come with her, but it appeared her lapse into needing to be cuddled was getting to Dar, and her natural pride poked its head up in outrage and reasserted itself.

There were two sides to that, Kerry admitted. One, she was a little disappointed in being gently rejected. But two, it meant Dar was feeling better, and that was a good thing. She put aside the laptop and stood up, stretching out her stiff and somewhat cramped body. Sleeping sitting up hadn’t been restful, and the couch was less so. She strolled over to the window and looked out, resting her hands on the sill and leaning on them.

“What I should do is take a break and run the stairs a few times,”

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she decided. “Loosen myself up a little and get some exercise.” With a nod, she went back and closed her laptop down, turning it off and slipping it inside its padded backpack. She looked around, then shrugged and shouldered the pack, shifting it until it was comfortably centered on her back. “A little extra effort won’t hurt me any, either.”

She walked out of the room and straight to the stairwell, opening the door and letting it close behind her. Since they were on the top floor, she really only had one way to go, and so she started down the steps at a rhythmic, even pace. It was quiet in the stairwell, and clean. Kerry decided it probably wasn’t used much, since most of the movement between floors involved wheeled equipment or vehicles, which could get a little tricky going up or down stairs.

Halfway down, at the fifth floor, she met her first fellow walker, a young man carrying a thick bag, who smiled at her as he dropped down the steps alongside. “Hi there.”

“Hi,” Kerry replied, with a friendly smile.

“You new here?” the man asked. “Haven’t seen you around.”

Hmm. Kerry eyed him. He’s a cutie. The man had curly reddish hair and a lithe, athletic build. “That’s because I don’t work here,” she informed him. “I’m just visiting.”

“Oh yeah?” He looked surprised. “I figured you were an intern or something, with that book bag. Sorry.” He flashed her a smile. “Well, that’s too bad. My name’s Curt.” He stuck out a hand.

Kerry took it as they kept walking. “Kerry.” She produced her name. “It’s a computer backpack, actually. I work with them.”

“Yeah?” Curt released her hand. “You don’t see many visitors taking the stairs either.” He looked down and laughed a bit. “Or staff either, to be honest. I think you’re the first person I’ve seen in here in weeks.”

“You take them, though.” Kerry turned the corner on the steps and started down the next set. “Good exercise, right?”

“You bet,” Curt agreed. “I have to get in all the leg work I can. I’m training for the Olympics.” He grinned at her surprised expression.

“I’m a gymnast.”

“Really?” Kerry turned her head to look at him. “That’s wild.”

The man nodded. “Yeah. It is. I’ve been into it since I was a kid, but my folks could never afford me just going to school for that, so I’ve kept at it on the side. I’m going to the trials next year.” He glanced over at Kerry. “You look like you’re into sports.”

It suddenly occurred to Kerry that she was being flirted with. Hmm.

And by a really cute guy, too. It felt...kinda cool, actually. “Oh, nothing official,” she told Curt. “I just do some diving, swimming...climbing.”

She caught his very interested eye. “Martial arts, that sort of thing.”

“I thought so. You’ve got great muscle tone.” Curt grinned at her.

“Ever try gymnastics?”

Kerry suffered a flash of memory of her childhood, the arduous 278 Melissa Good hours spent trying desperately to balance on a four-inch chunk of wood.

“When I was younger, yes,” she admitted. “My parents thought it would make me graceful.” She adroitly dodged a pipe sticking out of one of the stairs.

“They were right,” Curt laughed. “Hey, I just have to drop this bag off...you interested in sharing a pop?”

Fortunately, Kerry was from the Midwest and realized he was talking about a soda, not proposing something indecent. “Wish I could.” She softened the words with an honest smile. “Thanks for asking.”

They’d reached the bottom floor, and he shifted his bag to his other shoulder and held a hand out again. “Maybe next time, okay?”

Kerry took it and returned his firm handshake with one of her own.

“Sure.”

He turned, pulled the door open, then ducked through and let it close behind him. Kerry regarded the door for a moment, then turned and leaned against the wall, folding her arms over her chest as she rested a moment before starting her climb back up. That was interesting, she mused, examining the sensation. It was nice, once in a while, to have someone think you were attractive, wasn’t it?

Other than your partner, of course, Kerry amended hastily. She’d never suspected Dar of thinking otherwise, had she? She thought about that, then blushed a vivid crimson, remembering a certain night not that long ago when she’d looked up from working on a report in her home office to find Dar watching her from the doorway, eyes half-closed, her thoughts very evident by her expression. No, she was pretty confident that they were both very much attracted to each other. But it was nice to have a stranger give your ego a pat on the head once in a while.

Kerry pushed off the wall and started up the steps. Besides, she grinned, he sure was a cutie. In fact, she thought, he reminded her of someone. Now who...ah. She nodded. That’s right—Josh. She’d gotten an e-mail from him that morning, saying he’d accepted her offer and was going to come to Miami.

Sorting through various other issues, Kerry kept jogging upward, catching her wind and falling into an easy rhythm as her body adjusted to the exertion.

THE MACHINE BUZZED softly. Dar kept her eyes firmly closed and spent the moments roundly cursing herself for being a stubborn jerk for not taking Kerry up on her offer of company. This was the third round of scans, and her nerves were beginning to twitch badly, wanting out of the machine and away from the cold, impersonal hands that invaded her personal space and moved her body.

Hands gripped her chin and she jerked, her eyes snapping open and pinning the doctor standing over her with an angry glare.

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“Okay, Ms. Rob—” The tall, willowy woman stopped speaking and removed her hands. “Sorry, did I startle you?”

Dar took a breath and forced her irritation down. “No. I thought this was about done.”

The doctor folded her arms. “Just about,” she agreed, wrinkling her well-shaped nose in thought. “You don’t much like being touched, do you?”

Dar scowled a little at being so easily read. “Not much, no,” she admitted. At least this doctor—Alison was her name?—wasn’t the usual condescending, iceberg type. “Sorry.”

“That’s all right, Ms. Roberts,” Dr. Alison reassured her. “Some people don’t. We’re so used to just grabbing what we want and pulling, we forget that sometimes. Could you tilt your head up and to the right?”

Dar complied, watching the woman make adjustments to the machine. The doctor was taller than Kerry but couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds, so thin that Dar was sure she’d blow away if the air conditioning cycled too strongly. Her white lab coat hung loosely on her, and the wrists that extended from it seemed barely wider than two of Dar’s fingers. The machine whirred again.

“Okay.” Dr. Alison looked down at Dar. “We’re done.” She pushed the machine arm back and leaned against the padded table on which Dar was lying. She had hazel eyes and a high forehead made all the more so by a hairstyle tightly pulled back into a knot. “Why don’t you sit up and let me take a look at your shoulder, okay?”

Dar obliged, tensing her abdominal muscles and pulling herself upright, then swinging her legs over the edge of the table. She hopped off and stood upright, startling the doctor, who took a step back.

“Oh.” Dr. Alison made a face, then smiled. “Somehow, patients always look shorter lying down. I didn’t expect you to be that tall.” She gestured toward a side room. “Why don’t we go in there so you can sit?”

Dar followed her in silence, taking a seat on a lower, but also padded bench in the examination room. She was still wearing her sling, but they’d allowed her Tylenol for the nagging headache, and she felt pretty good at the moment. “Well?”

Dr. Alison had been reviewing something on a computer terminal, and now she looked up over the screen at Dar. “Well, you want the bad news first or the good news?”

“Bad,” Dar replied instantly.

“You know, Ms. Roberts, I thought you were going to say that,” the doctor laughed. “Okay, well, the bad news is that you’ve got a lot of swelling in that shoulder. Aside from the bone bruise, you also strained some of the tendons and muscles around there, and everything’s pretty tense.”

Dar ran that over in her head and decided it didn’t sound life 280 Melissa Good threatening. “Okay.”

“You’re going to need to do a lot of physical therapy to get the blood moving in there and get the damaged bits out,” Dr. Alison told her. “It’s going to hurt.”

Pain was something Dar could live with. She’d worked through enough injuries in her years of martial arts, after all, and while she never enjoyed the process, she knew ways of getting past it. “And?” She watched as the doctor left her console and came over, carefully unsnapping the sling to release Dar’s arm.

“I need to see what kind of range of motion you have, okay?” Dr.

Alison waited for Dar to nod, then she took hold of Dar’s wrist and slowly lifted her arm. “Let me know when it starts to hurt.” She first flexed the arm at the elbow, then gently pulled upward, getting no reaction from her wary patient. “Okay, that’s what I thought. Now I’m going to move it out to the side; I think that’s where the problem is going to be.”

Dar nodded and shifted a little, straightening up as the other woman carefully extended her injured arm out to the side, then started to lift it. About halfway, Dar let out a sound somewhere between a cough and a hiss, and the motion stopped.

“Okay.” The doctor examined the angle. “Well, that’s not too bad, actually.” She sounded surprised. “Given what I saw in the pictures, that’s pretty darn good.” She put Dar’s arm back down and started poking at her shoulder, touching and prodding the skin with absorbed interest. “You have a very well developed deltoid here.”

Dar’s brow lifted and she eyed the woman warily. “Thanks.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen a structure like this on a female in a while,”

Dr. Alison added. “You’re not doing steroids or other anabolics, are you?”

Dar glared at her. “Absolutely not.”

“Just asking,” the doctor replied mildly. “No offense intended, Ms.

Roberts. A lot of people do, you know. In my line of work, I deal with an enormous number of athletes. It’s a standard question.” She walked over and checked her screen. “You have an incredible bone density, did you know that?”

How was she supposed to know that? “No,” Dar replied.

“Well, you do.” The doctor typed something. “That’s a good thing.

It’s what kept you from getting hurt worse. You take calcium supplements?”

Dar’s brow creased. Supplements? “No, I just drink milk.”

“Can’t stand the stuff myself.” Dr. Alison shook her head. “Well, good for you, Ms. Roberts. You weight train, correct?”

“Yes.”

The doctor nodded. “Okay, I just need to get some stats on you so I can send them to the therapist. Could you take your shirt off, please?”

It suddenly occurred to Dar why she’d always been more Red Sky At Morning 281

comfortable with male doctors, an interesting moment of self-revelation that almost made her start laughing. “What stats does a therapist need?” she asked, standing up and pulling her T-shirt off over her head one-handedly. It left her in a pair of gym shorts and nothing else.

“Oh, height, weight, limb len—” Dr. Alison stopped speaking for a second as she looked up. “Wow.”

Dar’s eyebrow went right up.

“You have great body structure,” the doctor continued enthusiastically. “You have almost perfect symmetry, did you know that?” She picked up a tape measure and trotted over. “Outstanding.”

Dar didn’t know whether to feel like a show horse on parade or what. She held her arms out when told and felt the tickle of the tape measure as it was run across her back.

“I thought so. Seventy-four inches.” The doctor towed Dar over to a scale. “Let me get your height and weight.” She pushed the height bar up and stood on her tiptoes to let the top of it rest on Dar’s head.

“Seventy-two and three-quarters. Yep, I knew it.” Next, she ran the weights across and nudged the smaller one back and forth until the arm balanced in the center. “One fifty-six.” She nodded and scribbled. “That about normal for you?”

“Give or take a few, yes,” Dar replied. “Why?”

“Just curious.” After measuring Dar’s upper and lower arms, Dr.

Alison finished her writing. “Okay, we’re done.” She looked up, reviewing Dar with an air of scientific satisfaction. “Very nice bones, Ms. Roberts. Congratulations.”

Dar picked up her shirt and slipped it on. “Thanks,” she muttered.

“But I think it’s my father’s fault.”

“Really?” Dr. Alison smiled. “Are you a daddy’s girl? Everyone tells me I am.” She straightened her papers and slid them into an envelope. “I hate that. Don’t you?”

Dar picked up her sling and looked at it, then glanced up at the doctor. “No,” she said. “I’ve always considered it a compliment.”

“Well, you’re just a lucky woman, then.” The doctor held a hand out and gripped Dar’s. “Good luck, Ms. Roberts. Keep up what you’re doing, and I guarantee you’ll be rock climbing into your seventies.” She nodded briskly. “Any questions for me?”

Dar cocked her head. “Yeah, one,” she drawled. “If you think what I’m doing is so great, why don’t you do it?”

Dr. Alison blinked. She glanced at herself, then at Dar. Then she laughed, a touch sheepishly. “I’m a doctor.” She grinned and shrugged.

“We never listen to our own advice.” With a wave, she left the room.

Dar straightened up and looked around at the now empty room.

Okay. She’d gotten her head examined several times, and apparently her arm wasn’t going to require amputation. A smile appeared. That meant she could get her ass out of here and go home. She went to the door and peeked out, seeing no sign of her solicitous orderly with his 282 Melissa Good ready wheelchair. “Heh.” Dar planned her route and slipped past the nurses’ station toward the doors.

“DAMN.” KERRY FELT the strain as she hit the seventh floor, her breath coming short and her legs starting to really burn. “That’s what you get for slacking off at the gym for the last month, Kerrison. You’re one lazy son of a biscuit when you want to be.” She sucked in a deep breath and pushed through the discomfort.

It annoyed her. She’d kept her running up, hadn’t she? Every morning, without fail, there she was at Dar’s side in the early-morning cool air. So, okay, she’d cut back on the climbing wall to let her shoulder heal, and they were between martial arts classes, but still. Kerry scowled. She’d even kept up with Dar lately... Hey. A thought occurred to her. Was Dar slowing down on purpose and letting her do that? Dar wouldn’t do that, would she?

Not to make Kerry feel better, right? White teeth chewed on a lower lip. Okay, but maybe she did it just to have company, how about that?

Dar would do that, right? Slow down so they could talk to each other, like they’d started to, using that time to go over problems at the office and plan their day.

Hmm. Kerry reached the eighth floor and turned the corner, feeling her heart rate starting to climb. So here she thought she was cruising along, doing so well. “Looks like I’m going to just have to try harder, that’s all,” she panted, forcing herself to leap up the next set of stairs two at a time. She rounded the corner and swung a little wide, a little out of control toward the door that led to the ninth-floor entrance. She put out a hand to steady herself, then suddenly blinked as the solid surface started to move toward her.

Kerry tried to stop, but her momentum was too great and she ended up crashing into the opening door, knocking herself senseless as she reeled backward dangerously close to the steps behind her. “Oh!”

She fought for balance, reaching out for the handrail, but the sweat on her hands betrayed her and she started to fall.

And then, just as suddenly, she wasn’t falling. She was caught and held in a powerful grip, and her senses scrambled to reconcile the abrupt presence of Dar’s distinctive aura surrounding her. “Ow.”

“Hey.” Dar’s voice confirmed her dizzy revelation. “Kerry?

Kerrison!”

Oh boy. Did I do something wrong? Kerry felt her knees buckle, and the next thing she knew, she was on the ground, its cold hardness pressing against her legs, with her upper body cradled in a nice, warm, very Dar-smelling nest. She blinked a few times. “Didn’t know seeing stars wasn’t just an old saying.” She stuttered the words out. “Ow.”

“Easy.” Dar’s voice sounded worried. “Take it easy. Why are you breathing so hard? Honey? Look at me, okay?”

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Kerry obeyed, tipping her head back and opening both eyes, very glad she did so when she was rewarded with Dar’s concerned face inches from her. “Wow.” She finally felt her heart rate start to calm.

“Are you ever a sight for sore eyes.” She lifted a hand and gingerly felt her forehead. “Or a sore head.”

Dar stroked her face gently. “What in the hell were you doing?” she asked. “You’re all wet.”

“You have that effect on me,” Kerry joked faintly, getting a halfhearted smile from her lover. “I’m all right. It’s just sweat. I was running the stairs.”

Dar tugged her shirtsleeve over and wiped the droplets of sweat out of Kerry’s eyes. It was warm in the stairwell, and the smaller woman was still breathing hard. “Can I ask why?”

Kerry took a long, shaky breath, then released it. “Seemed like a good idea at the time?” She gave Dar a wan smile. “I was just working the kinks out—getting a little exercise.” She settled her back against the wall and untangled her feet from Dar’s.

“And?” Dar shifted to a more comfortable position. “You decided to make it a decathlon event instead?”

“No.” Kerry dredged her self-disgust back up. “I was getting tired after seven measly flights, and it pissed me off,” she admitted. “I’ve been telling myself what good shape I’m in. Hah.” She forced a laugh and rolled her head to one side, gazing at Dar. “I’m a wuss.”

“Sweetheart,” Dar laid her good arm over Kerry’s shoulders, “our floors at work are eight feet high,” she said. “The ones here are twelve.

You just ran up the equivalent of about fourteen flights of steps at full speed.”

Kerry gazed at the steps, then tipped her head back and looked up.

“Oh.” She felt like an idiot. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm.” Dar gazed fondly at her. “So you’re entitled to be out of breath. I would have been.” She leaned forward and stuck two fingers into the collar of Kerry’s shirt, pulling it outward and peeking inside. “Besides, I really like the shape you’re in.”

Kerry looked down, then up at her. “Really?”

“Really.” Dar released the fabric, transferring her touch to Kerry’s face. She traced the rounded cheekbones and snub nose delicately, examining the crystal clear green depths of her lover’s eyes. “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever known.”

It was amazing. Kerry felt a little fuzzy happy ball settle inside her stomach, its tickling presence causing a smile to spread across her face, achieving an immediate echo on Dar’s. How could a sterile-scented stairwell be this romantic? “Thank you for telling me that.” Kerry leaned forward slightly and brushed Dar’s lips with her own, then made a more solid contact. “Especially since I feel like a slimy, skanky old pair of gym socks right now, so I know you’re just saying that to make me feel good.” She gave Dar a wry smile.

284 Melissa Good Dar studied her in silence, a tiny furrow appearing in her brow. “I most certainly wasn’t.”

“Dar, c’mon.” Kerry nudged her. “Don’t sit there and pretend I’m attractive sitting here all sweaty and covered in hallway dirt.” She held up a hand, which was almost black, then blew her disheveled hair out of her eyes. “I’m a mess.”

“I think you missed my point,” Dar replied. “Ker, you’ll always be beautiful to me, no matter what you look like.”

Kerry gazed back at her seriously. “Do you really mean that?” she asked. “No matter what? Even if I shaved my head, put on fifty pounds, and got a tattoo across my neck that said ‘Budweiser’?” She kept her tone light, but she felt the anxiety as she watched Dar’s face, twenty-five years of her mother’s voice hammering into her conscience.

“Hmm.” Dar cocked her head, giving the vision its due and sober consideration. “Nope. I think I’d have to draw the line at the Bud tattoo,” she said gravely. “Maybe ‘Corona’ I could live with.”

Kerry smiled and dropped her gaze, more relieved than she was willing to admit.

“But as for the rest, yes, I do mean that.” Dar tipped Kerry’s chin up and forced eye contact. “We’re not going to look like this forever, Ker. I don’t know how you feel about it, but I want you to know I don’t give a damn.”

It was ridiculous, Kerry decided, that they were having this absurdly critical discussion sitting in a hospital stairwell. But Dar’s speech deserved an answer. “All my life I’ve had it hammered into me that appearance is what matters,” she said. “And I’d always hoped that...” a slight shrug, “...being in love would mean more than just being physically attracted to someone.” She met Dar’s eyes. “For me it is.

There’s something about you that has captured me completely, and I hope it never lets go.”

Dar nodded slightly.

“So, I don’t give a damn, either,” Kerry went on. “I know I joke about it a lot. Maybe it was just that I bumped into a cute little gymnastic boy, and he stroked my ego for me.”

Dar eyed her. “When was this?”

“On the way down the stairs,” Kerry admitted. “He admired my muscle tone.”

“Ah.” Dar settled back against the wall. “Well, I just had a good-looking young woman tell me to take all my clothes off.” She eyed Kerry’s profile, which went suspiciously, suddenly still, save for the flaring of her nostrils.

“And?” Kerry asked.

“And I spent the next ten minutes being told what a lovely specimen I was.”

Kerry’s eyebrow lifted.

“Did you know I have dense bones and perfect symmetry?” Dar Red Sky At Morning 285

asked, arching a brow of her own.

Kerry half turned. “Who is this person?”

A puckish grin appeared. “The orthopedic surgeon.”

“Tch.” Kerry started laughing. “A lovely specimen, huh?”

Dar chuckled. “Nice muscle tone, huh?”

They both simply laughed for a minute. “Oh my God, Dar, I’m sweaty, and I’m tired, and I want to go home. Are they letting you out yet?” Kerry finally said.

“They’d better be,” her partner replied. “C’mon. Let’s go share a sponge and call Dr. Steve.” Dar stood carefully, and held onto Kerry’s arm as she joined her. “Thought I saw a tube of that bath soap in your bag.”

“The mango one?” Kerry put an arm around Dar’s waist as they climbed up the steps toward the tenth floor.

“Mm.”

“You thought right, my little subtropical perfect specimen.”

Dar snorted, then reached down and pinched Kerry’s butt. “Oh yeah, that’s nice tone all right.”

“Ouch! You wench!” Kerry felt her spirits rise into the bubbly range. “Wait ’til we get to that sponge. You’ll be sorry.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“SEND HER IN.” Commander Ainsbright twitched his jacket sleeves straight and folded his hands on his desk. Aside from the bandage taped over a gash on his left temple and a bruise the size of a mango on his jaw, he appeared the very picture of composed military dignity. He watched as the door opened and Chief Daniel walked in.

“Chief.”

The chief walked to the edge of the desk and saluted, then stood at ease.“Report,” the commander requested.

“It seems the training exercise caused a great deal of damage in three areas, sir,” the chief replied. “Primarily in the computer center, the telecom room, and the programming center.”

The commander nodded. “And?”

“I expect the systems will be down until we can replace about twenty percent of the hardware,” Chief Daniel said. “Apparently the backup systems were damaged as well, and we lost a good portion of our data storage.”

The base commander leaned back and propped a knee up against his desk. “All right,” he said. “Write up the damages, and I’ll charge the SEAL program for them. They had their instructions. They failed to follow them.”

“Yes, sir.” Chief Daniel kept her gaze firmly fixed on the desk.

286 Melissa Good

“Anything else you want to report, Chief?”

“No, sir,” came the quiet reply.

“Anyone asks you for anything, we don’t have it.”

“No, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

The chief turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Jeff Ainsbright sighed and shook his head. The phone rang, and he picked it up. “Yes?”

“Cleanup’s almost done,” a terse voice informed him. “We got lucky. Damn lucky.”

“Tell me,” the base commander snorted. “You get rid of everything? We’ll have a security team down on us at 0700 tomorrow morning.”

“Everything,” the voice answered. “Scrubbed to the bare steel. I brought a dog in just to be sure.”

Ainsbright nodded. “Good.” His eyes narrowed. “I’ve got those guards on court-martial for letting that damn bastard Roberts in here during off-hours. You know how close that was? They were in the goddamned computer center. I just hope we got everything.”

“We did.” The voice held infinite assurance. “She thought she was so smart. That data stream she has won’t tell her anything. We made sure of that.” A chuckle. “Don’t worry, Jeff. All they’ll find is some ruined equipment. I already reconstructed the database. It’s clean.”

“All right.” Ainsbright nodded. “It was too damn close, I tell you.

We should have shut down the minute that bitch came on the base.”

“You were supposed to take care of that,” the answer came back sharply. “You and that kid of yours, remember? He was supposed to distract her. Hell, I thought he’d end up screwing her—”

“That’s enough,” Ainsbright snapped. “Forget about it. We found another solution.” He checked his watch. “I’ve got to go. Chuck’s ship’s leaving, and I want to make sure he’s on it.”

“Right. Out of sight—”

“Out of my hair,” the commander snorted. “Bye.” He hung up the phone and took a deep breath. It had been close. Far too close, and the problems weren’t over yet. He wasn’t stupid enough to think he was rid of Dar Roberts, for one thing. She’d dug enough into the base to report back to Washington, and now it was up to his team to do damage control.

Negligence? Sure. Someone would be court-martialed for it.

Shoddy record-keeping, sloppy processes. Every base had them, and all it would generate was a damn study and recommendations as long as Roberts hadn’t found anything worse.

And she hadn’t. He was sure of it. All he had to do was get Chuckie out of here, then wait for the rep from DC. Thank God the damn JAG

had called to warn him. With a sigh, he put his hands against his desk and pushed himself to his feet, wincing at the ache in his bones.

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Too dark, he’d been told, to see who’d hit him. “Sorry, sir. It was just too dark,” the SEAL captain had maintained stiffly. Yeah? Too dark my ass, Jeff Ainsbright scowled as he circled his desk and headed for the door.

Only to find it blocked.

He stopped in complete shock and stared at the dark blue-clad figure standing silently inside the door. There hadn’t been a sound. How in the hell? He took a cautious breath. “Andy.”

Ice-blue eyes watched him steadily. “’Lo, Jeff,” Andrew drawled very softly.

Ainsbright took a step back. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

Frighteningly, that caused a smile to appear on the scarred face.

“Folks never do,” the ex-SEAL allowed. “That’s how come I stuck around this long.” Andrew moved forward toward the commander with a curiously smooth amble. It combined an economy of motion with an impression of prowling energy that caused the commander to take another step back, then turn and retreat behind his desk.

“What can I do for you, Andy?” Ainsbright forced a tense smile.

“I’ve got a meeting I’m due at.”

“On Sunday? You ain’t visiting the preacher now, are you?”

Andrew asked.

The commander hesitated. “No, no, just a lunch date with my wife.” He was very conscious of the cold menace radiating from his old friend who, though retired and with all that gray in his crew cut, still posed a very potent threat he knew he had no hope of countering.

Andrew had always been like that. A big man, made bigger by weight training and SEAL’s fitness regimen, with lightning reflexes and lethal combat skills. Cool in action, levelheaded, steady, reliable—but with a blind spot a mile wide all centered around his family and that damn stubborn pigheaded bitch of a daughter of his.

Dar was dangerous because she was so goddamned smart. Andrew was dangerous just because he was dangerous, and anything that touched or threatened his kid sent him past reason.

“We need to chat,” Andrew told him. “So sit yer ass down.”

Ainsbright sat down slowly and folded his hands. “Andrew, this ain’t a threat, but I can call the guards and have you taken out of here.

You’re not in the Navy anymore.”

“That’s all right,” Andrew told him. “When I’m done with you, you ain’t gonna be either.” He sat down on Ainsbright’s desk. “So if you have half a brain left, you will sit in that chair and start talking about what you all are doing here.”

Ainsbright looked steadily at him. “Andrew, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I think you need to leave.”

Andrew leaned closer. “Listen, you jackass. How’n the hell you think you got that crack on the side of your haid?”

Unconsciously, Ainsbright lifted a hand and touched it.

288 Melissa Good

“Ah took that damn gun you had out of your hands and smacked you ’cross the face with it,” Andrew continued, standing up and circling the desk, his temper rising. “So you will, sir, you will tell me what is goin’ on here that makes a career jack like you point a damn gun at mah kid!” The ex-SEAL’s voice rose to a low roar. “NOW!”

Ainsbright froze, staring at the dark form looming over him, seeing the fire in those pale blue eyes surging toward the edges, ready to consume him. Andrew’s hands were tensed and his body coiled, his center of balance up on the balls of his feet, full of a stillness that bore its own warning.

“Andy, take it easy.” Ainsbright kept his voice low. “I’ll talk.”

“Yes,” a low, fierce growl agreed. “You surely will.”

“DR. STEVE.” DAR inhaled, visibly holding her patience. “They’ve taken enough pictures to star me in the next Sears catalog. I’m fine. Let me the hell out of here.”

Dr. Steve patted her arm as he reviewed a chart. “Just hold on to your britches, rugrat. You’ve still got a ton of swelling up in that rock head of yours.” He made a mark on the chart. “We’re not taking any chances with you.”

Dar peered over the doctor’s arm to where Kerry was curled up on the daybed, watching. Her brow creased as she scowled. “I’m not spending another night in this place,” she decided. “I can sleep just as well at home.”

Dr. Steve didn’t even look up. “Ain’t got nurses there. Though you gave the ones here a story to spread around over the water cooler.”

Dar glared at him. “I don’t give a damn,” she growled. “They can kiss my ass.”

Dr. Steve looked up to see a pair of truculent blue eyes looking at him. “Lord, you must be feeling better,” he teased her, reaching over and chucking her on the chin. “That’s the Dar I know.”

Kerry watched in amusement, resting her chin on her forearm. She could see Dar getting more and more annoyed, and wondered briefly if her sometimes mercurial lover wasn’t better off going home. “Hey, Dr.

Steve?” she called out.

The doctor turned and put the chart down, walking over to her and looking down. “How’d you get that bump, Squeaky?” His fingers touched the side of her head cautiously. “That hurt?”

“A little,” Kerry admitted. “I had a close encounter with a door.

Nothing major.” She took advantage of his proximity. “Dr. Steve?”

“Hmm?” The doctor crouched down and continued to examine her bump. “You feeling all right, Kerrison? You look a little pasty.” Behind him, Dar sat up and peered over, her brow creasing.

“I’m fine, really,” Kerry assured him. “Just a little headache, and I haven’t had my lunch yet.”

Red Sky At Morning 289

“Mm-hmm.” Dr. Steve turned her face a little toward the light from the window. “Feel a little shaky?”

Kerry sighed. “A little.”

“Uh-huh. When was the last time you had your blood-sugar levels checked?”

That caught her by surprise. “Um...” She took a breath. “I usually don’t have a problem.”

“That’s not true,” Dar spoke up.

Kerry peered around the doctor’s arm, annoyed. “Dar.”

“It’s not.” The dark-haired woman gave a little shrug of her uninjured shoulder. “You get dizzy when you don’t eat, and you know it.”

“That true?” Dr. Steve asked.

Kerry sighed again. “Sometimes,” she said. “I try to make sure it doesn’t.” She met his gaze. “I ran out of granola bars today.”

Dr. Steve fished in his pocket and came out with a package of cheese and peanut butter crackers. He handed it over to her. “Here.”

She accepted them, then changed the subject. “Does she really need to stay here?” Kerry asked quietly. “I think she’d rest better at home.”

The doctor rested his hand on her knee and gave her a direct look.

“Would you go home if I said no?”

Kerry shook her head, opening her crackers and removing one. She put it between her teeth and bit down, chewing the salty snack slowly.

“Where she goes, I go.”

Dr. Steve let out a chuckle, then pushed himself to his feet and returned to Dar’s bedside. “Found you a good match, Paladar.” He shook his head. “Two of a kind, I can see that.”

Dar tore her eyes from Kerry’s face and looked at him. “What?”

The doctor picked up her chart and made a notation on it. Then he looked up as footsteps sounded outside, and a young man carrying an envelope entered. “Ah, that the last of them?”

“Yes, sir,” the man confirmed, handing over the envelope. He gave Dar a professional smile, then turned and left. Dr. Steve removed some papers from the envelope and read them, scanning over the first page and concentrating on the second. Finally, he grunted and folded them over.

“All right, rugrat.” He turned and put his hands on the bedrails.

“I’ll let you go, on one condition.”

Dar’s eyebrows hiked up in pleased surprise. “What?” She glanced over at the watching Kerry. “Name it.” The doctor’s attention to her lover had caused a twinge of unease, even though she knew Kerry was conscious of her body chemistry and usually had little problem with it.

She had seemed a little wrung out when they’d gotten back, but Dar had put that down to her stair-climbing.

“You,” Dr. Steve took hold of her chin and forced her to look at him, “will get your ass in bed and stay there for at least three days.”

290 Melissa Good Dar took a breath to answer.

“Promise me,” Dr. Steve stated flatly. “I mean it, Dar. This is no joke. You want to go home? Well, I’ve known you since you were born, and I know you’ll get more rest there than here with all them nurses poking at you. But you must—I’m saying must, Dar—stay in bed and let your body heal.” His manner was unusually no-nonsense. “Yes or no?”

The blue eyes flickered, then narrowed slightly. “Just stay in bed?”

she countered. “Not asleep?”

Dr. Steve warily eyed her. “Flat on your back,” he qualified. “No gymnastics or anything like that.”

Well. Dar sighed inwardly. That meant three days of using her laptop, but there was probably enough data and crap she had to sort through to keep her busy for at least that long. “All right.” She nodded.

“I promise.”

Dr. Steve looked relieved. He reached over and ruffled her hair lightly. “Okay. I’ll go process your paperwork.”

Dar watched him leave, then looked over at Kerry. “Hot damn.”

Feeling much better, Kerry finished up her crackers and dusted her fingers off. She got up off the daybed and went over to Dar, curling her fingers around the bedrails and leaning against them. “Three days, huh?”

“Three days,” Dar agreed. “You should get plenty done at the office with me stuck at home.”

“Mm.” Kerry made a noncommittal noise. “Well, let’s get you packed up.” She slid her hand through the bars and circled Dar’s wrist with her fingers, rubbing her thumb against the soft skin. “And get you into that waterbed.”

Dar smiled. “Keep me company there?” She waggled an eyebrow.

Kerry grinned back.

KERRY CHEWED ON a carrot as she watched the large pot of soup cook. Discharge had taken less time than she’d thought it would, and they’d gotten home before lunch was served at the hospital.

Which was, she reflected wryly, a good thing, because it was fish.

Now, normally Dar liked fish, and so did Kerry, but as Dar put it, she liked her fish to be of some identifiable species and not pasteurized processed cod-like fishcakes.

Ugh. Even the boiled smell coming down the hallway had made Kerry wince. So she’d been glad when the orderly showed up with a wheelchair to take Dar downstairs. Of course, it’d taken her ten minutes of arguing with her lover to get the stubborn woman to sit in the wheelchair, but they’d finally made it into the Lexus and away from the hospital.

Dar had been quiet. Kerry suspected she was in some pain, but she didn’t press her on the subject, theorizing that Dar had been poked and Red Sky At Morning 291

prodded and messed with almost past her tolerance the last twenty-four hours and would only resent the mothering.

She won’t resent the soup, though. Kerry poked a wooden spoon in and gave the mixture a stir. The spicy, rich scent of seafood gumbo wafted up, and she felt her mouth water in response. “Mm.” She lifted the spoon and took a taste. “Glad I had a container of this in the freezer, Chino.”

“Yawp,” Chino agreed, peering up at her hopefully.

“No soup for you.” Kerry took a biscuit from the dog jar and tossed it to her. “This would make you chuck up your Labrador guts all night.”

Chino crunched on her biscuit contentedly. “Growf.”

Kerry smiled, then turned and pulled two good-sized bowls down from the cupboard. They were sturdy, a nice shade of bone inside and a pretty cobalt on the outside. She and Dar had purchased them at the Mikasa outlet just a few weeks prior on a rare afternoon’s shopping together. That had been fun, Kerry mused, as she ladled portions into each bowl. Just a long Saturday that had started with breakfast at, of all places, McDonalds, and ended with dinner at the Cheesecake Factory.

“And you didn’t get any of that doggie bag, didja, Chin?” Kerry put the bowls on a small wicker tray and added silverware, then popped the door on the convection oven and removed a few buttermilk biscuits.

“Okay, let’s go bring mommy Dar lunch.” She picked up the tray and walked into the living room, where Dar had resumed her nest on the couch.

“Hey.” Kerry put the tray down on the coffee table. “Hungry?”

Dar lifted her head and sniffed at the bowls. “Is that gumbo?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Mm.” Dar smiled and settled back against the soft leather. She was dressed in her pajamas, with a fleece blanket tucked around her and her laptop resting on her knees. Now she watched as Kerry picked up one of the bowls and brought it over, settling it into her lap. “Where did this come from?”

“FedEx delivered it,” Kerry answered without a beat. “Didn’t you hear them?”

“On Sunday?” Dar asked.

“New service.” Kerry offered her a spoonful, pleased when Dar opened her mouth and accepted it. “How’s it going?”

“Eh.” Dar chewed a bit of conch and swallowed it. “I don’t know.

It’s...” She reached up and rubbed her eyes a little. “Hard to concentrate. My head hurts.”

Kerry checked her watch. “You can take a couple more Tylenol,”

she offered. “Or you could just—oh, I don’t know, lie down and get some rest.”

Dar considered. “Let me try the pills first,” she decided. “I’m really not tired.” She accepted the spoon Kerry held out and settled the bowl on her stomach. “Thanks for the soup.”

292 Melissa Good

“Any time.” Kerry ruffled her hair. “You know, you’re not nearly as bad a patient as I thought you’d be.”

Dar sucked on the spoon and regarded her lover thoughtfully.

“Would you like me to become an unruly curmudgeon?” she asked with a faint smile. “I could. But I figured it made no sense to have both of us be miserable.”

“I appreciate that.” Kerry reached over and gave Dar’s thigh a squeeze. “I just want you to know that I don’t mind taking care of you, Dar.”

Dark lashes fluttered. “I don’t mind letting you,” Dar said.

Kerry picked up her bowl and sat down on the couch, picking up Dar’s legs and sliding underneath them. She wriggled into a comfortable spot, then crossed her ankles and took a spoonful of soup.

“What are we watching?”

“Mpf?” Dar hastily swallowed, then glanced to her left. “Oh. I don’t know, I was just browsing and I—”

“Good grief, Dar, that woman is almost naked.” Kerry stared at the screen in fascination. “What in the hell is she doing with that stick?”

“Um.” Dar bit her lip. “I’m not sure. It’s one of those action things.

You know I never watch that stuff.” She watched anyway. “Hey, she’s pretty cute.”

Kerry glanced at her. “I guess.”

“Looks a little like you,” Dar went on.

“No she doesn’t,” Kerry laughed. “Not unless I spent twenty-four hours a day for six months in a gym, and got a serious haircut.” She watched the image on the screen. “Ooh. Nice kick.”

“Mm,” Dar agreed. “Nice outfit.”

Kerry’s eyebrows lifted, and she gave her lover a sideways look.

“Are you hinting at something?”

“Me?” Blue eyes opened a little wider. “Are you insinuating that I might want to see you in two strips of leather and a pair of floppy boots?”

A grin tugged at Kerry’s lips. “Would you?”

“Bet your ass I would,” Dar laughed.

Kerry reviewed the screen. “I’d look ridiculous.”

“You’d look mouth-watering.” Dar bit into a chunk of spicy fish.

“Can I have that for a birthday present?”

“Dar!” Kerry blushed, pleased at the compliment but embarrassed at the same time. “You sound so carnal.”

Dar chuckled, then jumped a little as her cell phone rang. “Crap.”

She balanced her bowl on her lap and put the spoon down, then picked up the buzzing instrument. “Yeah?”

“Dar!” Alastair’s voice boomed down the line. “Good gravy! What in the hell happened? Why didn’t you call me? Where are you?”

Dar held the phone away from her ear and grimaced. “When you’re done yelling, lemme know.” She waited, then, when no other sounds Red Sky At Morning 293

issued from it, moved the phone closer. “Good afternoon, Alastair.”

“Dar.” He sounded exasperated. “For Christ’s sake, they said you were in the hospital!”

“I was.” Dar stretched a little. “We ran into a little trouble on the base,” she said. “I got a knock on the head, they wanted to take some pictures. No big deal, Alastair.”

“That’s not what I heard,” her boss retorted. “I heard you were already hurt when you went down there and got knocked out by some jackass with a gun.”

Dar took a breath, then released it. “You told me to find a solution,” she said. “I found one.”

Alastair let out a gust of air. “What makes you think any solution or any problem is worth risking you? Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt, Dar? You think I give two shits about some half-assed piece of crap government contract?”

Dar was quiet for a moment. “Alastair?”

“What?” her boss bellowed.

“Thanks for caring.”

There was silence for a few heartbeats, then Alastair sighed. “Well, damn it all to hell, Dar.”

Time to take back control of this conversation, Dar’s more logical half asserted. “All right. Now that you’ve called, let me get this over with.”

She composed her thoughts. “We went down there trying to retain the data evidence. I told you that was the government’s concern, right?”

“Right,” Alastair exhaled.

“Well, I fucked up.” Dar had to pause slightly after saying that, so unusual was it for her to have to pronounce those words in reference to herself. “I didn’t find out what was going on first, and we walked right into both a military exercise and a setup.”

Alastair didn’t even say a word.

“Thank God my father was with us,” Dar went on in a quiet, unemotional voice. “They knew we were coming, and they were using the exercise to cover their tracks. With real bullets. If it hadn’t been for Dad, things would have been a lot worse.”

“So,” her boss’s voice sounded grim, “what’s your analysis?”

Dar watched Kerry’s profile as she sat moving her spoon around in her soup with her eyes on the television screen. “I was too close to the problem,” she said, watching Kerry’s movements still. “I should have backed out of it.”

“Ah.”

“We should have just dropped the results into the government’s lap and submitted our bill,” Dar went on. “Now we’re going to be involved in lawsuits at the very least.”

Alastair’s only comment was a sigh. “Anyone else get hurt?”

Dar remembered Jeff Ainsbright’s slumped form. “Not any of our people,” she replied. “I take full responsibility for this, Alastair.”

294 Melissa Good

“Mm,” her boss murmured. “You always do, Dar. I’ve never seen you do less.” He considered a moment. “Still and all, we did fulfill the contract, didn’t we? As far as that request for service?”

“Yes.”

“All right,” Alastair said. “Let’s keep things in perspective, Dar.”

“From a man who was yelling at the top of his lungs when I picked up the phone, that’s quite a statement,” Dar remarked dryly.

“Well, I was more concerned about you,” Alastair admitted. “The fact is, we achieved our goal, and we were just going above and beyond for the customer when things went badly.”

“Alastair,” Dar sighed.

“I’m not making excuses,” her boss snapped. “Easton took advantage of you when he asked you to intervene, and you know it, Dar. He was counting on your being personally involved, and he used that.”

Dar opened her mouth to refute the charge, then closed it again as her mind ran over what her boss had said. Had he? She looked up to see Kerry regarding her with a sympathetic look on her face.

“I don’t blame him for that,” Alastair continued hurriedly. “He was in a tight spot and saw a way out of it. I’d have done the same thing.”

Dar sighed. “Maybe.”

“So, take it easy, all right?”

“Alastair,” Dar replied, “you can tell me all day long I was within spec, but we both know I wasn’t.”

“Eh.” A verbal shrug came over the line. “We can talk about it later, Dar. How are you, anyway?”

Dar recognized a deliberate change of subject when she heard one, but didn’t have the energy to protest. “I’m all right,” she replied. “I had a concussion, and I messed up my shoulder a couple of days ago. It’s really no big deal.” Something occurred to her. “I do have to stay home for a few days, though. I’ll call in for the board meeting on Tuesday.”

“Great,” Alastair said. “Looks like the budget’s right on for the fourth quarter, and projections are up for next year, thanks to your network.”

Dar smiled. “Trying to cheer me up?”

A chuckle. “Is it working?”

Dar felt better for having told her boss what was going on. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

Dar held the phone against her ear and took a spoonful of soup.

“How’d you find out about me in the first place?” she asked, around a mouthful of shrimp.

“Your mother called me,” Alastair told her, a touch of smugness in his tone.

Dar stopped in mid-chew and almost snorted bisque out her nose.

“My mother?”

Kerry snickered. “Uh-oh.”

Red Sky At Morning 295

“I HAD TO do it,” Jeff Ainsbright stated for the tenth time. He was seated behind his desk, watching Andrew Roberts’s tall, burly form pace back and forth. “Andy, you don’t understand.”

“Hell I don’t,” Andrew snapped, turning to face him. “You had to sell your damn soul out? That what you’re saying?”

Ainsbright sighed and shook his head. “God damn it, Andy,” he said, “spare me your moralistic hogwash, will you? Maybe you never wanted to work your way out of that three-bedroom shack down the row, but I did.”

Andrew glowered at him. “Least what I had, I got honestly.”

“And what was that?” Jeff replied. “You couldn’t even afford to get your damn wife a new dress most of the time. You never had nothing, you never left her nothing; you couldn’t even send your kid to college.”

He stood up and poked a thumb at his own chest. “I wasn’t about to live like that. So yeah, when they offered me some good money to look the other way, you bet your ass I did.”

“Ah would not have, not for all the damn money in the US,”

Andrew stated flatly. “And what’d it get you?”

“A nice house,” Ainsbright answered. “A nice car. My wife’s a member of the country club and she loves it. My kid’s a ship captain.”

“You buy him that, too?” Andrew asked sarcastically.

“What’d you ever give your kid?” Jeff taunted. “A used tennis ball?”

“Care,” the ex-SEAL replied. “And knowin’ what was right and wrong.” He folded his arms. “I didn’t have to do nothing else. She made her own future without beggin’ me for handouts.”

Ainsbright rolled his eyes. “You’re a fool, Andrew. You always were.” He stood up. “All right, look.” A hand lifted. “Yeah, I knew about everything here. I knew about the shipments, and I knew they were covering them. But I never had anything directly to do with any of it, hear?”

Andrew studied him.

“I did what I did for my family,” Jeff stated. “To give them a better life.”“Now they ain’t gonna have nothing,” Andrew said. “With your ass in jail.”

Ainsbright snorted. “Not for bad record-keeping, Andy.” He managed a thin-lipped smile. “That’s all your brilliant little wunderkind is going to find now.”

Thoughtful blue eyes regarded him. “Think so?”

“I know it. I made sure of that personally,” Ainsbright snapped.

“Despite you getting your ass in the way, that is. I wasn’t after your damn kid.”

“You had a damn M16 with a scope.” Andrew closed on him again.

“Who were you after?”

“No one,” Ainsbright answered coolly. “It was all part of the 296 Melissa Good exercise.” He pointed at Andrew. “Which your daughter interrupted with an unauthorized breach of the base. If anything happened to her here, it’s her fault, not mine.” He paused. “For that matter, you better just hope I don’t bring you up on assault charges.”

Andrew blinked. “You do that, and ah will make sure you’ll have been assaulted for it.”

“That a threat?” Jeff snorted. “Get out of here, Andy. You’re out of your league, and you don’t belong here anymore.”

Andrew turned and walked to the window, gazing out at the grassy space before the building. “Ain’t that the truest thing you done said here today,” he rumbled. “If you ain’t the one who’s running this show, Jeff, who is?” He turned and eyed the CO, who remained silent. “They pay you to take the fall for them?”

The base commander shook his head. “I’m not taking a fall, Andy. I told you that.”

“’Cause you think you out-thunk my kid, is that it?” A smile twisted Andrew’s face. “Better hope you’re right. I sure never could.”

Jeff snorted. “I’m smarter than you are, Andy. We both know that.”

A slow nod. “That may be true, Jeff. But you ain’t smarter than she is. So you better be damn sure you’ve got all your tracks covered, or it’s your ass what’s going to be run up that there flagpole outside.” He turned and pointed, then turned back and walked over to the base commander, stopping within a pace of him. “Because she will nail you.”

Their eyes locked. “I’m sure,” Jeff finally said. “I’ve got good people who made very, very sure of that.” He turned and straightened his jacket. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Andrew, I’ve got a lunch date with my wife.” He gestured toward the door. “I’ll have you escorted to the gate.” He turned back toward his desk, then stopped dead.

The office was empty.

“Son of a bitch.” The base commander raced to the window and looked out, leaning out to look up and down. Then he pulled his head back in and searched the room with anxious eyes. “Where in the f—”

Cursing, he reached for the phone and lifted it, dialing a number quickly. “Security? This is the base commander. We’ve got an unauthorized entry. Send a security team to my office and put the base on alert.”