Carol Ericson - Alpha Bravo Seal

“Should we—I mean, do you want something to eat? It’s after noon.”

“I can just run out and get something.”

Suddenly the thought of Slade Gallagher walking out that door and leaving her alone in this apartment gave her a jolt of terror. Someone had killed Giles, Lars and possibly Dahir. Was she next? Finding Lars’s footage and turning it over to this Navy SEAL might be the only thing to save her life.

Unless...the guys who killed her friends found the film first. Would they leave her alone then? What about the women she’d interviewed? If the film got into the wrong hands, those women could be murdered—or worse. Whether or not the people after that footage wanted it to ID the women or not, their exposure would just be an added benefit. She owed it to the women who’d trusted her with their stories to retrieve Lars’s film.

“How about it? Do you want me to get something for you, too?”

She glanced up at Slade, framed by the office door, Chanel wriggling in his arms. “We can eat here. My mom’s housekeeper, Jenny, thinks it’s her duty to keep the fridge stocked.”

“You sure?” He rubbed Chanel behind the ear. The dog immediately stopped squirming and got the most blissful look on her face. Slade must have some magic hands.

Nicole blinked. “Of course, but I don’t think Chanel’s going to ever leave you alone.”

“Not generally a little dog fan, but she’s won me over.”

“Looks like the feeling is mutual.” Nicole took a step toward the door, but her phone stopped her. She looked at the display. “It’s Paul.”

She tapped the phone to put it on speaker and answered. “Hello?”

“Is this Nicole Hastings?” He had a more pronounced accent than Lars’s, but not by much.

“Yes, Paul?”

“I got your message, and of course I’d heard about Lars. Damnedest thing. I had no idea he was suicidal. Did you? It wasn’t that whole pirate thing you went through, was it?”

She raised one eyebrow at Slade. “Absolutely not. I’m finding his suicide hard to believe. Had you talked to him recently?”

“No, but I do have something for you.”

“You do?” She placed a steadying hand over her heart. “What is it?”

“I’d rather show you. You’re in the city?”

“Yes.”

“Can you come by my studio this afternoon? It’s at my loft, where I had the party. Do you remember it?”

“I do, but not the address.”

Paul gave her the address of his loft studio, and they agreed to meet there in an hour.

When she ended the call, she cupped the phone in her hands. “That was easy. He’s just going to turn it over to me.”

“Let’s hope so, and then we have to figure out why it warranted the deaths of two, possibly three, people.” He set Chanel on the floor, and she promptly flopped over on her side.

Nicole walked up to the dog and nudged her paw with the toe of her sneaker. “You hypnotized her.”

“Yeah, we learn that in Navy SEAL training.”

She widened her eyes, and then pursed her lips. “Liar. We still have time for a quick bite to eat.”

“How far are you from SoHo?”

“It’s about a half hour in a taxi.” She plucked her neoprene running shirt from her chest. “I’m not changing. I never ran, anyway.”

“The guy takes pictures of naked people. I don’t think he’s going to care what you’re wearing.”

He hadn’t moved from the doorway, so she brushed past him and wished she hadn’t. She had to admit to herself that she’d been attracted to Slade from the minute she’d seen him pass by the door of the infirmary on that ship. She hadn’t told the guys at the time, but she’d had a feeling he’d been the SEAL sniper who’d rescued her.

They just would’ve laughed at her and accused her of falling for another adventure junkie. She’d had her share of mountain climbers, skydivers, big-wave surfers and even a Wall Street trader, but a Navy SEAL topped them all.

Once her pulse returned to normal, she called over her shoulder, “Sandwich?”

“Whatever’s easy. We need to head out of here soon.”

She slapped together a couple of sandwiches, and they finished them on the way to the lobby.

Leo jumped into action when he saw them. “Have a good one.”

“We will.” Nicole almost bounded to the taxi. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on that film and turn it over to the Navy or whoever would ultimately take control of it. Maybe they’d even return it to her one day so she could make that film and honor Lars and Giles.

The heavy traffic delayed them ten minutes, but Paul was waiting for them at his loft.

After introducing Slade as a friend and then shaking his hand, Paul gave her a long hug. “I can’t believe our Lars is gone.”

“Did he say anything to you when he left you the note for me and the footage?” She extricated herself from Paul’s bear hug.

He cocked his head to the side. “Footage? I just have the photos, Nicole.”

Her gaze darted to Slade and back to Paul. “Photos?”

“Of course. I thought you’d want them.” He crossed the large open room, his black-and-white photographs adorning the walls. He picked up a folder from a table and raised it in the air as he strolled back to her. “These.”

She flipped open the folder and bit down hard on her lip as she stared at a black-and-white photo of her and Lars, heads together, deep in conversation.

“I took those the night of the party, before we all got crazy.”

She shuffled through the remaining photos with a sharp pain piercing her heart. Hugging the pictures to her chest, she asked, “Was he in New York recently?”

“He was here a few months ago. Did you miss him, too?”

“I’ve been in the city for just about three weeks. Does that mean you didn’t see him when he was here?”

“I didn’t, and that makes me very sad, especially when I think I could’ve done something to help him.”

Slade stepped back from a collection of photos he’d been studying on the wall. “Do you know why he was in New York? Did he see any of your other friends?”

“Funding for his next project, I think.” Paul tugged on his earlobe, which had several piercings. “But he did visit Dave Pullman. You might remember him. He was at the party—dark curly hair, actor.”

“Davey. He was pouring the drinks.” A thrill ran up her spine, but she avoided looking at Slade to share her excitement. The less Paul knew about their mission, the better.

“Davey, yes. Lars and his nicknames.”

“Do you have Dave’s address and phone number?” As Paul raised his pale eyebrows at her, she stammered, “I—I have something I want to give to him, something I want to share. We didn’t have a chance to go to Lars’s funeral or a memorial for him, so it’s important for his friends to remember him.”

“Exactly why I wanted to give you those pictures.” He held up one finger. “One minute.”

He pivoted toward his desk, which must’ve doubled as his office, and scooped up his phone. He tapped it a few times and read off a phone number for Dave and an address on the Lower East Side. “I’m sure Dave will be happy to see you.”

“Thank you so much for the pictures, Paul.”

“Absolutely.” He narrowed his eyes as he looked her up and down and then turned his gaze to Slade. “Would you two be interested in doing some modeling for me?”

They both answered “no” at the same time.

Five minutes later, they stood on the sidewalk in front of Paul’s building. Nicole held out the folder of pictures to Slade. “Do you mind holding these while I call Dave? I don’t want them spilling out.”

“They’re good pictures. The guy has talent.”

“Not enough to entice you to pose for him?”