For the second time in a matter of hours, Jacey felt the rough asphalt against the palms of her hands. She held her breath, her heart thudding in her chest as fear cloaked her. What was going on? Sean had her pressed against the ground, his body covering hers. She listened as he spoke to the dispatcher, requesting backup to the parking lot near the south gate because of a shooter in the area.
Shooter? Gunshots? The sounds hadn’t seemed loud enough for gunfire. While deployed in Afghanistan she’d heard plenty, all of it loud enough to make her ears ring for hours afterward.
“Backup is on the way,” Sean said, his voice low and husky near her ear.
“You’re sure someone was shooting at us?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I believe the gunman used a silencer.”
Hearing the grim determination in Sean’s tone made her stomach twist painfully.
Sean was in danger now, too. Because he believed in her.
She hated knowing that she’d dragged him into her mess. Was this really all because she’d reported the lieutenant colonel?
It was hard to comprehend why someone on base cared enough about her allegation to try to kill her. That someone hated her enough to risk taking a Special Forces cop down, too.
“Do you think the shooter is gone?” she whispered.
“No idea, but we’re staying put.” The wail of sirens echoed through the night. Jacey thought that if the perp hadn’t left by now, he or she no doubt would after hearing proof that help was on the way. “Once we have the scene secured, we’ll look for evidence. I’m sure there are shell casings or bullets somewhere.”
She nodded, wishing Greta was here. Her K-9 partner had a great nose for finding the scent of gunpowder. Bombs were her specialty, but during training sessions, Jacey had tested Greta with bullets, as well. Greta had been incredibly accurate with even the smallest-size bullet, like those from a 0.22.
Red-and-blue flashing lights grew bright as additional Special Forces cops arrived. Sean didn’t let her up, though, until they were approached by two cops holding their weapons at the ready.
“Staff Sergeant Morris?” one of them asked. “You reported two gunshots?”
“Yes, I did.” Sean straightened and then held out his hand to help her up. “This is Senior Airman Jacey Burke.”
“Staff Sergeant Cronin,” the cop introduced himself. “What happened?”
“This is the third attempt to harm Senior Airman Burke in less than eight hours.” Sean’s voice was terse. “Earlier tonight someone shoved her in front of a truck, then her K-9 partner, Greta, was poisoned with antifreeze. I was planning to take her off base when I realized the two streetlights were out over the parking lot where I left my car.”
Staff Sergeant Cronin glanced up to see for himself, and frowned.
“I suspected something was wrong,” Sean continued, “but before we could move, I heard gunfire and felt a bite of pain along my upper arm. We dove for cover and called it in.”
“You’re hit?” Jacey brushed her hand along the side of his shoulder, appalled to find her fingers wet and sticky with blood. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I’m fine.” Sean brushed off her concern. “The gunman used a silencer. I heard two distinct shots before I was hit. They came in from the northeast. We need to search the area, find the spent shell casings or bullet fragments.”
“We’ll take a look around,” Staff Sergeant Cronin promised. “I’ll call the EMTs over to provide medical attention.”
“Don’t bother,” Sean said at the same time Jacey replied, “Yes, that would be good.”
Staff Sergeant Cronin nodded at Jacey. “I agree with Senior Airman Burke. That wound needs attention.”
“My arm doesn’t matter—getting Senior Airman Burke to safety does.”
“You’ll both be safe enough in the ER for a while.” The staff sergeant wasn’t taking no for an answer. “You should call Master Sergeant Hanover to let him know what’s happened. I’ll get the EMTs over here.”
“Your turn to make sure this gets documented by the ER doctors,” Jacey murmured. It was a lame attempt at a joke.
“I guess.” Sean didn’t look happy.
Twenty minutes later, they were in a different ER cubicle. Ironically, the same ER doctor, Captain Grant Simons, came in to examine Sean’s wound. The skin was furrowed where the bullet had skimmed by, and staring at it made Jacey feel sick at how close she’d come to losing Sean. A few inches more, and he’d be lying on an operating-room table, or worse.
Jacey took a seat in the corner of the room and dropped her head into her hands. Then she lifted her heart in prayer.
Heavenly Father, thank You for sparing Sean’s life, and I ask that You please continue to keep us safe. Please help Greta heal from her ordeal, too. Amen.
Another thirty minutes passed before a nurse came in to clean the wound and bandage it. Sean never uttered a complaint, even though she knew the jagged wound running across his biceps had to hurt.
At nearly five in the morning, Sean was officially discharged from care. They were getting ready to leave when Sean’s phone rang. He pulled it out and grimaced. “My boss returning my earlier call,” he said, before answering. “This is Staff Sergeant Morris.”
Jacey wished she could hear the other side of the conversation.
“Yes, sir, I’m fine but Senior Airman Jacey Burke was the real target here and I need a safe place to go for the next few days. We both live in apartment housing and that’s not secure enough.”
Jacey didn’t believe she was the shooter’s only target; Sean had been the one injured, not her.
“A motel is one option. I may have another one. I’ll keep you posted.” He disconnected from the call and looked at Jacey. “I’m going to see if there’s a vacant house we can use for a week or so.”
“I thought base housing was only for officers and difficult to get?”
“It is, but I happen to know of a place where a family moved out rather unexpectedly. I know it will get reassigned, but I’m hoping we can use it for a limited time.”
She narrowed her gaze. “You just happen to know this?”
“Yeah. I, uh, looked into alternative housing options when you refused to go off base to a motel.”
She nodded, understanding his concern. If there was a house available to use, they should jump on it. It was far more preferable than a motel off base.
Sean made two more quick calls, then returned to her side. “Everything is all set. We can use the place for five days. Ready to go?” Sean asked, shrugging into his jacket. The sleeve had a rip in it where the bullet had torn through.
“Yes.” She rose to her feet, feeling exhausted. “I need to shower and change before returning to the training center to talk to my boss about Greta.”
“We’ll take a cab to the apartment to pick up a few things, then grab a different cab to head over to pick up the key and take us to the house,” Sean said. “I want to be certain we’re not followed.”
“All right,” she agreed. “Let’s go.”
Jacey couldn’t relax during the cab ride to the apartment complex. Sean sat sideways in his seat so he could keep an eye on the road behind them. Even at 0500 hours, Canyon Air Force Base had come to life. Military personnel started work early.
“Is there anyone behind us?” she asked.
“Too many,” he replied glumly. He tapped the cab driver on the shoulder. “Will you circle the block?”
The cabbie shrugged. “It’s your dime.”
Jacey breathed easier once they managed to get into her apartment without incident. Sean waited for her in the living room, giving her time to shower and change. She quickly packed a bag, then rejoined him in the living room. “I’m set.”
“Good.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and she knew he was troubled by the back-to-back incidents from that night. “My turn.”
They used the side exit, avoiding the main areas, to walk over to Sean’s building. He couldn’t get his dressing wet, so he simply changed his clothes and packed a bag. He wore his official uniform, complete with the blue beret, and a wide utility belt that held a holster for his gun.
She thought he was handsome before, but wearing his full uniform he stole her breath.
Doing her best to hide her reaction, she kept her gaze averted as a different cabbie drove them to the small house off Webster, not far from the base apartment-housing complex. She could see the apartment building from the front window.
“Let me know when you’re ready to head over to the training center,” Sean said. “I’d like to talk to the staff who were on duty over the past twenty-four hours, see if they noticed anything unusual.”
“Uh, sure. I’m ready.” Jacey abruptly realized just how much time she and Sean would be spending together. He’d been nothing but professional, but ever since she’d seen the wound on his arm up close, not to mention seeing him in his full uniform, she’d found herself getting emotionally involved on a personal level.
She’d had a crush on him ten years ago, but that was then. This was now.
Best to figure out how to rein in her feelings before she made a complete and utter fool of herself.
Sean sensed Jacey was on edge as they took a third taxi to the training center.
“This is going to get expensive,” Jacey muttered as he paid the fare.
She was right, but there wasn’t anything he could do to change that right now. He didn’t dare use his personal vehicle, but planned to sign out a jeep from the base motor pool.
“Did you call your master sergeant?” he asked as they entered the facility.
“Not since I left him a message about Greta’s condition, but I’m sure he’s looking for me.” She led the way to the office area. “I hope he doesn’t blame me for this.”
“He won’t,” Sean said in an attempt to reassure her.
Jacey didn’t look convinced, and knocked sharply on the door of the corner office.
“Come in.”
Jacey grimaced and opened the door. She went in first and, while saluting wasn’t required, stood at attention. Sean did the same, waiting until Master Sergeant James told them to stand at ease before relaxing.
“Take a seat. What happened, Jacey?” Master Sergeant James asked, his expression full of concern.
Sean listened as Jacey repeated the events surrounding Greta’s poisoning. When he sensed she was going to leave it there, he interrupted.
“Sir? If I may interject here—” he paused and waited for Westley to nod “—there have been two attempts against Jacey over the last twenty-four hours along with the attack on her K-9 partner.”
“Who are you?”
Oops. “Staff Sergeant Sean Morris with Special Forces, sir. I came to offer first aid to Senior Airman Burke after she was pushed into the path of an oncoming vehicle, then later, after we took care of Greta, someone took a couple of shots at us. All of these incidents have been reported to my superior, Master Sergeant Doug Hanover.”
Westley James scowled. “I can’t believe someone poisoned Greta,” he said finally. He pinned Sean with a stern glare. “I need you to find the person responsible for all of this, understand?”
“Yes, sir. Believe me, I want to find the person who did this more than anyone.”
“Staff Sergeant Morris was injured by the shooter.” Jacey spoke up.
Westley’s brows leveled upward. “You’re okay?”
“Yes, sir. Just a flesh wound.” Sean hesitated, then asked, “I’d like to speak to the staff who were working in the evening hours of the training center yesterday.”
“Understood. Aiden Gomez was on duty, along with a few others assigned to shut down the kennel for the night. I’d start with him.”
“Do you have a log of everyone who was here last evening?”
“Yes.” Westley opened a file folder and removed a sheet of paper, then handed it to Sean.
“Aiden loves dogs,” Jacey said. “He’d never do anything to harm them.”
“I just want to see if he noticed anything unusual last night, that’s all.” That much was true, but Sean also knew that at this point in the investigation everyone was a suspect.
Even Jacey.
Not that he really believed she would harm her own K-9 partner, but he couldn’t afford to overlook any remote possibility.
Getting personally involved is exactly what had gotten him into trouble with Liz Graber. Thinking her ex-husband had gotten the message, he’d asked Liz out on a date. The night they’d dined at a local restaurant off base, Liz’s ex had followed them, and then he’d killed her. If Sean hadn’t asked Liz out on a personal level, she never would have died that night.
No way was he going down that path again.
“Staff Sergeant Morris?”
He snapped his head up to find Westley James staring at him impatiently. “Yes, sir?”
“When would you like to speak to Aiden Gomez? He’s here in the morning for four-and-a-half hours, then again in the late evening for three hours.”
“If he’s here, I’d like to see him now, if that’s okay.”
Westley nodded. “Very well. You can use the empty trainer office at the end of the hall. It’s next to Jacey’s.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Westley reached for his phone and gave a curt order for Airman Gomez to report to the office on the double.
“This way,” Jacey said, leading him down the hall to the empty office. She opened the door, then hovered in the doorway for a moment. “I’m going to spend a few hours working with a group of puppies, so there’s no need for you to hang around after you’re finished with Aiden.”
“I see.” Despite his internal promise to keep his distance, he was disappointed. “Will you do me a favor?”
She eyed him warily. “Like what?”
“Call me when you’re ready to leave. It’s not safe for you to be alone, Jacey. I plan to sign out a vehicle, so there will be no need to take taxis back and forth.”
She pursed her lips, then nodded. “Okay.”
He let out a silent breath of relief. “Thanks.”
Jacey looked as if she wanted to say something more, but then she glanced down the hall and smiled. “Hi, Aiden. How are you?”
“Not good—I just heard about Greta.” The young airman was visibly upset. “I saw she wasn’t in her kennel, but I didn’t realize she was sick. What happened?”
“We don’t know for sure but we think she was given something that made her sick,” Jacey said, and Sean was glad that she’d glossed over the cause of Greta’s illness. “That’s what Staff Sergeant Morris wants to talk to you about.”
“Come in, Aiden.” Sean gestured the young man to step forward. “What time did you work last night?”
“From nineteen hundred to twenty-two thirty.” Aiden glanced back at Jacey. “Greta was fine in her kennel when I left.”
“I believe you,” Jacey said.
“Aiden, I need to know if you saw anything unusual around any of the kennels. Any liquids or substances that aren’t normally around.”
Aiden frowned. “No, sir, I didn’t. We have very strict rules here because it’s our job to make sure the dogs are safe.”
“Okay, then, what about people?” Sean pressed. “Did you see anyone around who you normally don’t see that late at night?”
Aiden’s gaze turned thoughtful. “I did see someone wearing the usual battle dress uniform, but he or she had the collar turned up to hide their face, and had a hat on, so I didn’t see who it was. The person was slender—made me think it was a woman, but I can’t honestly say for sure.”
Sean’s pulse kicked up a beat and he pulled out the log, then glanced at Jacey. “Looks like both Misty Walsh and Reba Pokorny are on the log, although Misty left before twenty hundred.” He found it telling that Jacey’s name was not on the list, which proved it wasn’t foolproof.
“Misty is a trainer, and Reba is a caretaker, like Aiden,” Jacey said. “To be honest, it wouldn’t be that difficult for someone to slip past without signing the log.”
“You think the person I saw gave something to Greta that harmed her?” Aiden asked, his expression horrified. “I can’t believe Misty or Reba would do something like that. Especially Reba.”
Sean wondered if Aiden had a thing for Reba. “We don’t know that for certain, so don’t go around saying that, okay? It could be that the person you saw may have witnessed something, just like you did.”
Aiden’s expression cleared, and he nodded. “I understand. Everyone is considered innocent until proven guilty.”
That was true in a court of law, but in police work, Sean tended to view it the other way around. Everyone was a suspect until cleared by either an alibi or evidence to the contrary.
And the glimpse Aiden had gotten of a person hiding behind a turned-up collar and hat was his first clue.
He only wished there was more to go on than a vague description that could include just about anyone.