Carol Ericson - Navy Seal Spy

Glancing at the gray skies, she turned up the collar of her jacket and crossed the quad. If it started raining, she’d have to abandon the meeting with Liam, and he’d have to reschedule it—or not. What did he want with her, anyway?

She slipped behind the building on the north side of the quad, put her head down and marched toward the gym that had a track behind it. Tempest had taken over an old high school for its compound and had remodeled most of the buildings on campus, even adding dorm-type living quarters for the recruits, but the track and the indoor pool had been maintained.

Employees were allowed to use the gym, but only before and after regular work hours. Tempest wanted to keep the agent recruits and the rest of the employees apart, unless the job directly involved the agents—hers didn’t, not yet, anyway.

A few people were jogging around the track, and she realized one of them was Liam. She settled on the second to last row of the bleachers and pulled out her lunch and a book. Ignoring the runners, she ate her sandwich with her book propped open on her knees.

Liam broke away from the track and started jogging up and down the bleachers. On one of his trips down, his pace slowed as he passed her. He panted. “Underneath the bleachers.”

She wadded up her brown paper bag and stepped down from the second row. She wandered to the trash can at the back of the bleachers, tossed away her trash and then ducked beneath the bleachers, stepping over the bars crisscrossing the open space. She could still hear Liam’s feet as they rang against the metal steps above her.

Less than five minutes later, Liam joined her beneath the bleachers, steam rising from his flesh, damp with sweat. His musky scent pulsed off him in waves, drawing her in, making him seem closer than he was.

His blond hair, away from the sun and surf, had darkened to a burnt gold, but his blue eyes still sparkled like the ocean on a clear day. She curled her hands into fists to squelch the urge to run her fingers through his hair.

“What do you want?” Angry with herself for responding to him in the old familiar ways, her tone came out as harsh as the raw, cold day.

“That guy, Patterson, died in his office on the fourth floor.”

She brushed a speck of dirt from the sleeve of her jacket. “Yeah, I know. I was at the same meeting as you.”

“You—” he leveled a finger at her “—were on the fourth floor of building S last night, flying down the staircase like you’d seen a ghost.”

“Well, I didn’t see Garrett Patterson, if that’s what you’re implying, and if I had, I would’ve reported his...death instead of chatting about old times with you in the stairwell.” She widened her stance and dug her heels into the rubber track beneath her feet.

“Old times? I don’t remember any walk down memory lane. You were too busy telling me to keep my mouth shut about knowing you...KC Locke.”

“Have you been checking me out?”

His eyes flickered. “If we’re going to pull off this pretense, I figured it was best if I knew what you were calling yourself.”

“KC Locke.” She stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

He took her hand and circled the inside of her wrist with his thumb. “KC, Kathryn Claire Locke—that’s the name you used when you were in the foster care system. How does Tempest not know that you started calling yourself Katie and changed your last name to your mother’s maiden name, O’Keefe, when you left the system?”

“Shh. I have friends in low places.”

“Yeah, more like you used your mad skills with a computer.” He tightened his grip on her wrist. “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here under an assumed name?”

She leaned in close just to catch another whiff of him. “I’m going to tell you that Garrett Patterson had a heart attack, and I wasn’t there when it happened.”

Dropping her hand, he lifted one shoulder. “Don’t play with fire, Katie.”

“You should’ve warned me about that two years ago in San Diego.” She hunched into her jacket and stepped out from beneath the bleachers.

With her hands stuffed in her pockets and her head down to ward off the chilly wind, she strode toward the track to cross it. Would he come after her? He couldn’t. They couldn’t be seen together out in the open.

She wandered across the track, sniffing back the tingles in her nose. Then a sharp voice interrupted her daydreams.

“Stop right where you are, or I’ll drop you where you stand.”

Chapter Three

All of Liam’s senses ramped up to high alert but instead of charging from beneath the bleachers to defend Katie like he wanted to, he flattened his body against the metal bars that crisscrossed his hiding place. He wouldn’t be doing either one of them any favors by rushing out to protect her. Besides, a Tempest security guard wouldn’t shoot an employee in cold blood...would he?

He peered through the bars, his heart hammering against his chest at the sight of Katie with her arms in the air, a weapon pointed at her back.

A woman’s voice cut through the air. “Meyers, put down that gun.”

The security guard lowered his weapon as he stammered. “I—I—I’m sorry, Ms. Spann, but civilian employees aren’t supposed to be out here on the track.”

Ginger Spann waved her long fingers in the air. “The infraction of that rule is certainly not punishable by death. Turn around, dear.”

Katie turned to face the duo, and Liam had to give her credit. She didn’t shift her gaze once in his direction, although she had to know he was still ensconced beneath the bleachers.

He couldn’t see her expression since the security guard was now blocking her face, but he could feel ice coming off her in waves, making the chilly air even crisper.

“What is going on? I come outside to eat my lunch in the fresh air and I’m held at gunpoint?” She shook her empty sandwich bag, which she’d pulled from her pocket, in the security guard’s face.

“I agree, KC.” Ginger tilted her head to one side. “It is KC, isn’t it? Down in programming?”

Katie worked in programming? That made total sense...and could be useful.

“That’s right, and you’re Ginger Spann. I just saw you at the all-hands meeting.”

“So sad about Garrett Patterson. Maybe that’s why we’re all on edge.” She turned to the security guard. “Meyers, apologize to Ms. Locke.”

Meyers shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry, ma’am. It’s just that we have strict orders about this area of the—”

“That’s enough, Meyers. You can return to whatever it was you were doing before you scared the wits out of Ms. Locke.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Meyers spun around, and Liam caught a glimpse of the man’s tight mouth as he walked toward the gym.

Seems he didn’t care much for Ginger’s tone, but then, who did?

His departure gave Liam a clear view of Katie’s face.

Her wind-tossed, dark hair blew across her face, and she scooped it into a ponytail, holding it over one shoulder. “I’m really sorry about venturing this far. After the news about Garrett, I just wanted to get out of the building for lunch and get some fresh air. I wasn’t paying any attention to where I was going, and when I looked up I realized I was way out here, so I just sat on the bleachers to eat my sandwich.”

Ginger raised her suit-clad shoulders. “No harm, no foul. It’s just that we have training going on out here for potential agents. You knew that, right? Everyone knows that, I suppose.”

“That’s the buzz, anyway.”

The wind gusted, and Ginger tugged at the lapels of her suit jacket.

She wasn’t dressed for a turn around the track in this weather. Had the security guard spotted Katie first before calling Ginger? If so, had he seen her emerge from beneath the bleachers?