Forged in Ash (A Red-Hot SEALs Novel) Page 12

  Cosky had told the cops about them? Why? Talk about embarrassing. But after a second she frowned and shook her head. Cosky might be an absolute asshole in some respects, but he wouldn’t have dragged her into whatever was going on, unless he had to. And he sure wouldn’t have given them private, personal information about their activities of earlier.

  “What’s this about?” she asked.

  “It’s about when Lieutenant Simcosky arrived and departed your apartment,” the cop said with gritty shortness.

  Kait’s shoulders stiffened. Abruptly, she’d had enough of all the macho, alpha posturing surrounding her.

  “Jeez, you don’t have to get your panties in a twist,” she snapped back.

  His face tightened. Served the asshole right.

  “He was supposed to arrive at nine. But he was a little late, so maybe quarter past nine.”

  His face still tight, Officer Unfriendly jotted that down in his notebook. “And what time did he leave?”

  Kait shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t look at the clock.”

  “Estimate.” He didn’t glance up.

  “Fine.” She blew out an irritated puff of air. “Maybe quarter of ten. Around there.”

  The cop jotted that down. “And the reason for his visit.”

  Darn if her face didn’t heat again. The cop looked up, his brown eyes knowing, and suddenly she was furious—with herself, with this asshole in front of her, and with the bastard who’d barged into her life, given it a good shake, and left her to deal with the fallout. Like annoying questions from irritating cops.

  Why not? The cop was already thinking it and judging her.

  “He came for sex. It’s a standing arrangement.”

  Besides, no way was she telling him the real reason for Cosky’s presence. She could just imagine his snarky reaction to that.

  Officer Unfriendly stared back, completely expressionless. “Lieutenant Simcosky stated he came for a massage.”

  “Of course he did.” Kait kept her face bland. “I thought everyone knew massage was a euphemism for sex.”

  A dry expression touched the cop’s face. “Do you charge for these massages?”

  “Of course not,” she said righteously. “That would be illegal.” When the officer simply stared back at her, his face unreadable, she shrugged. “Ask Cosky. He’ll tell you he didn’t pay a dime.”

  At least not in money. The bastard.

  Temper flashed through her. “Are we done here? Or do you want a rating on his performance? Because that would be a big fat zero.”

  Or at least his after-sex performance had been severely lacking.

  “Yet you have a standing arrangement,” the cop responded, his tone suddenly dry, clearly indicating that he knew she was feeding him a line of bullshit.

  Kait released a deep, put-upon sigh. “I really do have things to do today. Are we done?”

  The officer snapped his notebook shut and slipped it back in the breast pocket of his uniform. “For now. If I have any more questions, I’ll be in contact.”

  “Lovely,” Kait said with as much sarcasm as she could muster, scowling as he walked off.

  She still didn’t know what had happened. Whatever it was, it obviously involved Cosky. But Officer Snippy had said he was fine. Frowning, she turned to the coffee cart. The line had dwindled to a handful of people. Demi must have heard what had happened. Once business died down she could ask her…or…she glanced down the sidewalk, recognizing familiar face after familiar face. Half her neighbors were milling about, watching. She could get the story from one of them.

  Her cell phone rang as she headed toward the group closest to her. She fished it out of her pocket and glanced at the caller ID, which stopped her in her tracks.

  You had to be freaking kidding…she stared down in disbelief…it must be a coincidence. There was no way in hell Wolf could have known…

  Aiden’s voice whispered through her mind. “We ran into a snag on our last insertion. Got stuck between floors. Wolf swept in and unstuck us.”

  Okay, so all things considered, he probably did know.

  Turning around she headed back into the relative quiet of the lobby. The phone rang repeatedly as she walked. She could swear the shrillness increased with each ring, until it seemed to buzz with sharp frustration.

  Once she was in the relative silence of the lobby, she took a deep, calming breath and punched talk. “Wolf. What a surprise.”

  “Are you okay, bixoo3etiit?” a deep voice asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  “What the hell was Simcosky doing at your apartment?” he demanded, his voice losing some of its velvet smoothness.

  Kait was so surprised she almost dropped the phone. “You know him?”

  There was a distinct pause. “I know of him.” His voice hardened. “Even more importantly, I know he’s mixed up in some pretty ugly shit. You need to steer clear.”

  Another fricking alpha male, butting into her life.

  “Didn’t we just have a conversation regarding you staying out of my personal life?” Kait snapped, her fingers tightening around the phone until they ached. “Good God, you’re worse than Dad ever was, worse than Dad and Aiden combined.”

  Dead silence hit the line. She could almost feel the frustration throbbing in that silence.

  “I worry, hico’ooteehihi,” he said simply, his voice gruff.

  Her irritation melted. “I know. But I’m twenty-nine, Wolf. I’ve been taking care of myself for years.”

  “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into with Simcosky,” Wolf said, steel creeping into his voice.

  “Yeah, well. You don’t need to worry about that. I’m not getting into anything with him.”

  “You’re not involved with him?”

  She could hear the frown in his voice.

  “God, no.” She tried to convince herself that the emphasis was due to relief, rather than disappointment.

  “Then why…” Silence, followed by, “His leg. Did the healing work?”

  She frowned and nudged a clump of grass in a crack in the sidewalk with her toe. “I don’t think so.”

  “Just as well,” he said gruffly.

  Kait’s eyes widened. He was glad the healing hadn’t worked? Glad that someone who’d been critically injured in service to his country—a true hero—wasn’t going to get the chance to recover from a possibly crippling injury? That didn’t sound like Wolf at all.

  Wow, he must be extremely worried.

  She’d heard there was some deep crap revolving around Zane, Cosky, Mac, and Rawls—a pending Department of Justice investigation for one thing. But she’d assumed they’d be eventually cleared of the charges against them. They’d acted in good faith, by all accounts. The hostages they’d rescued had come out in support of them. Hell, the news reports had been overwhelmingly supportive too.

  The DOJ wouldn’t actually charge them, would they?

  And how could such an investigation be dangerous to her?

  “How much trouble are they in?” she asked quietly.

  His silence tightened the muscles across her chest.

  “Surely the DOJ isn’t going to actually charge them? A slap on the wrist, maybe. But not actual charges…” The silence on the other end of the line went on and on and her belly clenched. “It’s not just the Department of Justice, is it? What’s going on, Wolf?”

  “Stay out of it, nebii’o’oo.” His voice was harder, more uncompromising than she’d ever heard it. “You aren’t equipped for this kind of shit. And so help me, if he’s dragged you into his mess, I’ll skin the heebii3soo myself.”

  Good God… There was no doubt in Kait’s mind that he meant it. Her mind flashed to Cosky’s lean strength. Not that her brother would have such an easy time doing it…but then again, Cosky was disabled to a certain extent.

  She swallowed hard, and instinctively stepped in to diffuse the edge in Wolf’s voice. “Well, it’s a good thing that the”—she dropped her voi
ce slightly, although there wasn’t anyone close enough to hear—“healing didn’t work. He won’t be back.”

  At least this was something she could be sure of.

  He must have read the certainty in her voice, because his tone relaxed. “Good.” He cleared the gruffness from his throat. “So how goes the new line of glass birds?”

  Kait scowled, turning to glare out the window at the fluttery green branches of the oak tree in the park. The tree was probably full of birds, and birds were the bane of her life at the moment. Well, after Cosky.

  She glared harder. “I’m not getting the proportions right. I’m not blowing the glass thin enough. So the sculptures look thick. Clumsy. Too heavy to fly. But when I try to blow it thinner, the glass shatters.” She rolled her shoulders, trying to shake off the frustration. “I should stick with a dodo bird or something.”

  It was a throw-away comment, but an image flashed through her mind—a fat, colorful, awkward bird. She frowned thoughtfully as the image clicked. Maybe she’d been approaching the subject wrong.

  A chuckle came down the line. “You’re too impatient. Too hard on yourself, nii’ehihi’,” he said indulgently. “Give it time.”

  Kait snorted and rolled her eyes. Easy for him to say.

  “I’m headed to the studio now.” The image of a clumsy, fat bird with an oversized beak, and bold, clashing colors had taken root in her mind, and she was eager to get it down on paper, and then birth it in glass.

  He laughed. “Why am I not surprised?” He paused. “Have you given more thought to that gallery’s offer?”

  Kait frowned. “Not really.”

  The gallery owner who had handled her Aunt Issa’s work had dropped by the workshop without invitation and taken a shine to Kait’s pieces. She’d apprenticed under Issa, so her aunt’s shadow was still upon her own pieces, although the similarities lessened every year. But she still wasn’t sure she wanted to open her art to the rest of the world and invite comparisons and criticism.

  “Let it rest. You’ll know when you’re ready.” Wolf’s voice fell into that deep-throated sageness she found so fascinating and annoying. “I’ve got to run. Another call’s coming through. You have my number if you need it.”

  With his customary lack of good-bye, he ended the call.

  By the time Kait stepped back outside, the line in front of the coffee cart was gone and Demi was standing around watching the crowd, looking bored.

  “Hey,” Demi said, straightening. “It’s about time you showed up.”

  “If you had a cell phone, you could have called me and filled me in,” Kait said, stopping in front of the milk steamer.

  “But then you wouldn’t have been in the position to gaze at the eye candy standing on the corner.” Demi nodded toward the parking lot with a smirk. “Although, from what I heard earlier, it sounds like you may have been doing more than gazing at one of them earlier today.”

  Kait groaned beneath her breath. She was absolutely certain she knew what, or more like whom, Demi was referring to. But she had to step up a few paces and crane her neck to look around the clusters of people clogging up the sidewalk to verify her suspicions. Sure enough, she got a quick glimpse of three familiar men.

  Cosky, Zane, and Commander Mackenzie. Rawls had to be around somewhere too. If Zane and Cosky were here, Seth Rawlings would be too. The three were inseparable, tied to each other’s shoelaces according to Aiden.

  Of course, if Aiden hadn’t gone wheels up, he’d have been over there too, or scratch that, he’d have been over here, interrogating her.

  She was just about to turn away, before they caught her staring, when the cop who’d interviewed her approached the trio on the corner and pulled out his handy-dandy notebook.

  Uh-oh.

  Her stomach dropped and crawled down to her toes. Somehow she just knew this didn’t bode well, at least for her. The cop said something to Cosky, who scowled. All three men turned to stare down the sidewalk, where they caught her watching.

  Resigned, she waved.

  Mac apparently had a seizure, at least of the verbal kind. He grabbed Cosky’s arm and his mouth started going a zillion miles an hour.

  Cosky’s face grew darker by the second, until it looked like he was going to shed lightning bolts and hail, maybe unleash a dust devil.

  The look he leveled on Kait would have flattened a corn field.

  A pang of hurt shot through her and then she stiffened. What? She wasn’t allowed on her own sidewalk when he was hanging around with his buddies? Well, screw him—at least figuratively.

  He was too far away to hear her verbal response, so she gave him the middle-fingered abbreviation.

  Demi snickered at the byplay. “So who’s Mr. Tall, Dark, and Grouchy?” Demi asked, stepping out from behind the coffee cart to give Kait a sly nudge.

  Great. Kait sighed and braced herself for a full inquisition. Wolf had nothing on Demi when it came to digging for juicy details. And she could hardly play dumb. The coffee cart was close enough to the security buzzer for Demi to have eavesdropped on the conversation through the speaker. Knowing her friend, she’d caught the entire conversation and committed it to memory so she could quiz Kait later.

  “He’s a friend of my brother’s,” Kait said as a white van with the logo HAVEN HAULING stenciled on the side cut across the street and pulled up next to them.

  Demi turned to glare at the van as a cloud of diesel fumes enveloped them. “What a moron.” She waved a hand in front of her face. “She’s nose to nose with oncoming traffic. And the place is full of cops. She’s just asking for a ticket.”

  Kait glanced at the vehicle and shrugged. “Must be dropping something off or picking it up.” She turned back to Demi. “So what happened, anyway? Why all the cops?”

  “You didn’t hear?” Demi asked, her brown eyes lighting up. There was nothing Demi loved more than telling a story. “So Tall, Dark, and Irritable comes out of the lobby—hey,” she dropped her voice. “You must have done a healing on him? He limped his way in, but not so much on his way out.”

  “Really?” Kait rocked back on her heels in surprise. “I didn’t think it worked.”

  “Oh, it worked. He was barely limping on his way out.” Demi grinned, and made a smacking sound with her lips. “And believe me, I watched him walk all the way to his car. An ass like that? It’s begging for eyes on it.”

  Kait didn’t doubt her for a moment. Demi did like her eye candy. And Cosky certainly fit the bill.

  “So what happened?” Kait prompted.

  “Yeah.” Demi shook her head. “It was the craziest thing. Some crazy lady tried to shoot him.”

  “What?”

  “Yep.” With a grimace, Demi waved away another plume of diesel exhaust. After an irritated glare toward the idling van, she nodded. “Tried to shoot him like three or four times.”

  Another cloud of diesel fumes rolled toward them, and Demi spun toward the van. “Come on, lady.” She stalked over to the driver’s door and pounded on the window, going up on her tiptoes to glare through the glass. “Either shut the damn thing off or park somewhere else. I’m choking on your fumes.”

  The woman behind the glass turned her head with mechanical precision and stared at the two of them, and then just as slowly faced front again.

  Demi stepped back, suddenly silent. “That’s weird,” she said after a long moment.

  Kait raised her brows at the odd tone in her friend’s voice. “What?”

  Demi backed up even farther. “The woman in the van. I think it’s her.”

  “Who?”

  “The crazy lady who shot up your friend’s truck.”

  Kait turned, in what felt like slow motion, and stared at the woman sitting hunched over in the driver’s seat. “Are you sure?”

  With a slow nod, Demi backed all the way up to her cart, as though she were afraid the woman was about to thrust open her door, jump out of the van, and attack. “I only saw her from the back, but she has the same
wild brown hair and heavy beige coat. I mean how many people wear wool coats in a ninety-degree heat wave.” She shook her head. “Crazy.”

  Kait took a cautious step forward, peering through the driver’s window. The woman was staring straight ahead with absolute concentration. Kait followed the woman’s gaze. One of the clusters of people down the sidewalk turned around and headed back into the lobby, which opened a path down the sidewalk. Cosky, Zane, and Mac came into view.

  Ice slid down the back of her neck, and the hair on her arms lifted. The woman was staring with fixed intensity at the three SEALs. There was something chilling about her unwavering focus. Something sinister. It was enough to convince her Demi was right.

  Turning, she headed at a fast clip toward the nearest cop, who happened to be halfway down the sidewalk, talking to a group of bystanders. If she yelled a warning, it might alert the woman, spook her into running. Better to notify the cops quietly and let them handle things.

  But she’d barely covered ten feet when the ominous roar of a revving engine rumbled behind her, and she knew with absolute certainty she didn’t have time to reach the cop. Instead she stopped dead and took a deep breath.

  “It’s her. In the van. The shooter,” Kait screamed the warning as loud as she could, hoping it would reach both the cops and the three men on the corner.

  And then she watched, with her heart in her throat, as the van swerved around the cop cars parked beside her. The scream of brakes and blare of horns from the oncoming traffic drowned her cry of warning. She cupped her hands to her mouth and yelled again.

  Swerving, the van’s front left tire hit the curb and popped with an explosive hiss of escaping air. The vehicle jolted onto the sidewalk, the front tire flattening with every rotation of its wheels. As it straightened out, its tail end swung left and clipped the front end of the first cop car. The cruiser bounced hard and pivoted on its rear tires toward the building, where Kait stood amid clusters of bystanders.

  As she leapt back, people scattered in all directions. Screams and curses lit the air. The van accelerated, riding the sidewalk with its left tires. A greasy cloud of diesel exhaust slicked everything, obscuring the van beneath a smoky veil.