Radclyffe - Oath of Honor

*

At the tap on her partially closed door, Wes expected to see one of the WHMU staff. She half rose when she recognized Cameron Roberts.

“Sorry to bother you, Captain,” Cam said.

“No—please come in.” Wes walked around her desk and extended her hand. Roberts, dressed casually in gray trousers and a black sweater, entered and shut the door behind her. Her dark eyes bore the same intense focus Wes had seen in every photo of her. Remembering her from the wedding, Wes suspected the only time her gaze ever softened was when she looked at Blair Powell. A flare of envy caught her by surprise and she quickly doused it. “Wes Masters.”

“Cam Roberts. Do you have a moment?”

“Of course. Have a seat.” Wes indicated the chairs in front of her desk and sat down.

“What do you make of O’Shaughnessy’s autopsy report?” Cam asked.

Right to business. This was ground she understood, and after the upheaval on the personal front, welcome ground. She needed to get her head back where it belonged. “On the surface, there aren’t any red flags.”

“He was fifty-one. His last physical exam four months ago included a stress test. That was normal,” Cam said.

“Yes. That bothers me too.” Wes frowned. “ On the surface things look straightforward. An arrhythmia, on the other hand, could account for sudden death, and there are often no precipitating signs or symptoms.”

“And no way to tell on the postmortem?”

“Exactly.”

“Could an arrhythmia be drug induced?”

“Of course—although the most effective way would be by injection, and he’d likely be aware of that. You suspect his death was a homicide?”

Cam shrugged. “I don’t like coincidences. Len’s unexpected death happening when we have a security breach is a little too convenient to ignore.”

“What would be the goal? The WHMU has other capable medical team members.”

“Could be something as simple as disrupting the flow so any move against POTUS would be handled less than efficiently.”

Wes had used much the same reasoning when she’d agreed with Evyn they shouldn’t mix business with pleasure. Considered rationally, the argument was weak. “Seems like a big risk for small gain.”

“Agreed. The more likely scenario is that Len noticed something, or suspected something. Assuming he wasn’t our leak and his contacts decided to eliminate him.”

“Do you suspect him?”

“I suspect everyone,” Cam said flatly. “Except you. But Len—not really. I’ve been running extended checks on every member of PPD, the WHMO, and the WHMU. Nothing turns up for Len other than a quiet affair with one of the nurses.”

Wes straightened. “Who?”

“Jennifer Pattee.”

“Really.”

“What?”

Wes laughed wryly. So much for gaydar. “Never mind.”

“Do you trust your instincts, Wes?”

“Professionally, yes.” Wes thought of Evyn—she trusted her instincts about Evyn too. Evyn was totally worthy of trust and confidence, in all ways.

“So tell me what you think about Lieutenant Pattee.”

Wes hesitated, then decided her personal embarrassment was unimportant. “I had the feeling the lieutenant was more interested in female partners. I could be totally wrong in that—or maybe she’s bi.”

“Has she expressed a personal interest in you?”

“I thought so. As I said—”

“I’m just gathering information, Wes. As a newcomer, you’re more likely to make an unbiased observation. Anything that seems off to you might be important.”

“I understand.”

Cam sat forward. “A puncture site is pretty easy to miss in an autopsy, isn’t it?”

“Yes—very. And we won’t have the tox screens back for another week or so. Without some evidence of drug administration, we don’t have any reason to exhume his body. I’d hate to put his family through that.”

“I don’t want to do that either if it isn’t necessary. I’ll see about expediting the tox results,” Cam said.

“Excellent.”

“Could the injection go unnoticed by the recipient—say if he was distracted?”

“Possibly. Airjet injection is nearly painless.”

“Peter Chang was working out with Len the day he died. He would also have been Len’s most likely successor if Lucinda hadn’t insisted on going outside for a new chief.”

“I didn’t know that.” Wes tried to see Peter Chang as a traitor. She couldn’t, but she didn’t see anyone in the WHMU as capable of betrayal. “This is ugly.”

Cam’s mouth hardened. “We just have to see it doesn’t get uglier.”

*

“You can pull over here,” Evyn told the cabbie, pointing to a spot up the street from Louise’s. She paid the fare and got out, jumping over a mound of slush at the curb. The snow had stopped but the streets were still a mess. The wind was wet on her neck—the miserable weather fit her mood. Her life had gone from orderly and uncomplicated to confusing and crazy-making overnight. Literally. Hell, she’d gone to bed with Wes Masters. Worse, she wanted to again. Right now. Her body hummed like a live wire looking to ground out on the nearest surface. If she so much as brushed a hand over herself, she’d probably come. That was a first. She’d always had great control—being sexually in charge was like being captain of the team. Calling the game, knowing just when to pull the trigger for the perfect score.

Not so with Wes—all Wes had to do was look at her and she was ready to explode. The whole airplane ride had been torture—the sweetest torture she’d ever experienced. Wes had slept on her shoulder, something Gary had done a million times. Andrea too—a smoking-hot blonde who usually worked a different shift. Andrea had also slept in Evyn’s bed a few times, when they’d been coming off a detail in the ass-end of nowhere and killing time until they could get home. She didn’t get hot and sweaty and ache to come in her jeans when Andrea nestled her cheek against her shoulder. She didn’t long to slide her arm around Andrea and run her fingers through her hair either. Hell, she didn’t want that with Louise, which was maybe why she was standing in the foyer of Louise’s building right now.

She pressed Louise’s buzzer. Louise opened the door and gave Evyn a curious look. “Hi. Come on in.”

Feeling just a little bit foolish, Evyn followed her inside. “Sorry to drop by like this.”

“That’s okay. I was just about to open a bottle of wine. Are you hungry?”

“No, I don’t want to put you out—”

“Don’t be silly. It’s no bother.” Louise walked through the apartment to the kitchen, and Evyn followed, wondering why she had come and realizing what she was about to say was completely unlike her. Louise looked great in dance leggings and a tank top. She was barefoot, and her hair was loose. She was everything Evyn liked in a woman—smart, accomplished, great sense of humor, super body, and generous in bed. To make it even better, she was undemanding and independent.

So what was she doing here?

“Listen, before you pour that wine, I should probably tell you I stopped by to break our date.”

Louise turned, the wine bottle in one hand and a corkscrew in the other. She leaned back against the counter and gave Evyn an appraising look. “Okay. Usually people just call.”

“And I guess the excuse that I was just in the neighborhood really doesn’t fly,” Evyn said ruefully. She rested her shoulder on the doorjamb and ran a hand through her hair. “So, I’m feeling a little dumb here. You want me to go?”

Louise laughed. “No. I want you to stay and have a glass of wine and something to eat. How does stir-fry sound?”

Evyn’s stomach rumbled and she blushed. “Well, it sounds great, but—”