Regan Black - His Soldier Under Siege

“Your family can help with this, right?” She was the daughter of a highly decorated general. Surely he still had connections.

“They shouldn’t.”

He draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her close. “You have to tell them.”

“I will.” She leaned into him. “Again, better to have all the facts,” she said.

“Do you need an attorney?” He didn’t have the right legal expertise, but he had friends in all areas of law practice.

She frowned. “I didn’t think you took private clients.”

“I can help you find someone,” he replied. He didn’t even have to think about it, though it meant calling in a favor with a friend or two with more experience in military law.

She pushed up from the stairs, arms folded over her middle as she paced the width of the garage. “You’re too generous,” she said.

It didn’t sound like a compliment. “You’d change your mind if I sent you a bill.”

In the glare of the overhead light, he saw that her rusty laugh didn’t quite reach her eyes. He really should have a ready solution—other than sex—to help ease her distress.

What began on a whim at his first family picnic with Kevin’s unit could have been a sturdy foundation. In that soft evening light, away from the noise of so many happy, reunited families, he’d found contentment. Her wide, accepting smile and her doe eyes framed by long dark eyelashes drew things out of him too easily. With her, on that secluded path, all of his wishes and dreams were possible.

That one kiss had led to...nothing. Not right away. They’d exchanged numbers and after some careful planning, they’d spent a weekend hiking the gorgeous trails in the Shenandoah National Park. There, they’d developed a no-strings, friends-with-benefits arrangement that was the best of both worlds.

Now he felt as if they’d shortchanged all that early potential.

“I appreciate the offer,” she was saying. “The accusation is bogus and the investigation will bear that out soon enough. I won’t be out of work long.”

He heard the faintly hopeful note in her statement and kept his opinion to himself. Waiting out bogus accusations was one thing, but adding in the attack at work and now the vandalism to her home, his uneasiness cranked up. “You think these are all just unrelated, unfortunate incidents?”

“Yes.”

Her fierce, whispered reply wasn’t convincing. He couldn’t challenge her or ask for more details because the police cruiser pulled up, parking on the street.

“You can leave,” she said as the officers approached. “I’ll be fine.”

“In a minute.” He stood with her, not close enough to touch, unless she reached out. As much as he wanted to console her, it would be better if it was her idea.

The two officers introduced themselves as Willet and Radcliff. Willet, hair going gray at the temples, carried a bit more weight than the wiry, youthful Radcliff. Together they patiently listened to Grace Ann’s account of finding the broken window, Willet taking notes. They asked about her security system and nodded in resigned acceptance as she explained there was only a motion-detecting floodlight at the back corner of the garage.

“Not much help in daylight,” Officer Willet remarked.

“Any signs of trouble inside?” Radcliff queried.

“We haven’t gone in yet.” Grace Ann tugged at the high collar of her jacket. “It seemed prudent to wait for you.”

“The door doesn’t show any sign of damage,” Derek said.

“I never lock this one,” she admitted glumly.

“Understandable,” Willet said. “It’s the same at my house. Radcliff will take a look around outside to check for any evidence or concerns.” With a nod, the younger man strolled off. “Once I clear the house, the three of us can walk through.”

“I appreciate your time,” Grace Ann said.

Officer Willet examined the doorjamb closely before entering the house, one hand on his holstered gun. “Just give me a few minutes,” he said.

They stepped back to wait in the center of the garage. Officer Radcliff returned before Willet. He reported that other than a small, narrow footprint, there wasn’t any other evidence to be found.

“Do you think the tree limb broke the window?” she asked.

“Not to my eye,” Radcliff said. “I called for a crime scene tech to come out and gather whatever they can find.”

She pressed her fingertips to her lips and nodded, accepting the assessment. Derek had never seen her so rattled. Of course he’d only really spent time with her on weekends, far from any real pressure. “Have there been any similar crimes in the area?”

“We always see a bump in burglary complaints when school starts up,” Radcliff answered. “Pure vandalism comes and goes.” He shrugged. “We’ll run it through the system for any similar incidents when we get back.”

Derek couldn’t be sure what Grace Ann thought, but in his mind that added up to more trouble aimed directly at her. “You don’t sound hopeful about catching the vandal.”

“It’s unlikely,” Radcliff admitted. “No sign in here or out there of the object used to break the window.” He shrugged again. “Probably a kid on a dare.”

Derek hoped the officer was right. Because of the different jurisdictions, no one was likely to connect the attack at the hospital, on federal property, with this incident in her civilian neighborhood, unless Grace Ann suggested it specifically. Something he knew she was not ready to do.

“House is clear,” Willet declared from the doorway. “I don’t think anything is out of place, but you’ll know best.”

“That’s good news,” Grace Ann said.

“Come on in and take a look.” Willet waved them closer. “Thank you for your service,” he added.

Color rose in Grace Ann’s cheeks. What had the police officer seen inside? She hadn’t yet given them more than her name, and there was no insignia on her jacket. He waited near the kitchen, as inconspicuously as possible, while she and the police officer walked the house.

With a full view of the spacious front room, Derek decided he liked her home. She’d chosen comfortable furnishings, nothing fussy and cluttered or too sparse and sterile. He noticed the framed flag and a shadow box with an award of some sort on the shelves flanking a big-screen television. He didn’t go closer, unwilling to tread on her frayed nerves. On the counter she had a framed picture from her last deployment in Afghanistan. She stood next to his brother, both of them grinning, surrounded by the rest of their team. The date was engraved on the frame. He’d seen a matching piece at Kevin’s house.

“Everything is still here,” she said when she came back into the main room.

Once again he fought the urge to gather her close. “That’s a relief.”

“It is.” Her smile lacked any real enthusiasm. “It was a long day at work,” she told the officers.

The officers promised to look into any connected complaints as Grace Ann walked them out. When they were alone again, Derek caught Grace Ann staring at the broken glass.

“Go on inside,” he said. “I’ll sweep this up and cover the window for tonight.”

“You’ve gone above and beyond already. It can wait until morning.” She glared at the mess. “It’s not like I have anywhere to be.”

She had yet to sit down with the hot tea and ice pack, and he knew she needed both. Needed to unwind. Though he expected resistance, he had no intention of leaving just yet. “Are you hungry?”

She tugged at that high collar again before meeting his gaze. “A little.”

“How is it I don’t know if you like to cook?” Camp cooking wasn’t the same as enjoying the process of building a meal at home.