Locked, Loaded and SEALed Page 5

  He entered Fazal’s name in the search field of her inbox and went through those messages, but didn’t see anything that raised any red flags. It would be better to do this whole computer exercise with Sophia by his side.

  He checked the time in the corner of the computer display and closed out Sophia’s mail. The cops had to be done by now. He stowed away the laptop and dumped his trash in the bin.

  Calling out a thank-you to the bored fast-food workers, he pushed through the doors and into the cold Boston night air. He shoved his hands into his pockets, curling the fingers of his right hand around the handle of his gun.

  When he saw that the patrol car had left, he picked up his pace until he was jogging, his boots scuffing on the sidewalk. He went up through the garage to take a quick look at Sophia’s car. Arriving at her apartment door, he tapped once with his knuckle. She had a peephole and he expected her to use it.

  She must’ve been waiting for him because the door swung open immediately. “Well, that was a big waste of time.”

  “Was it?” He swung the laptop case from his shoulder and put it on the coffee table in front of the sofa. “What did they have to say?”

  “A whole lotta nothing.”

  She’d changed from her dark slacks and sweater into a pair of sweats and a Boston University sweatshirt. She’d pulled her dark hair into a ponytail and must’ve washed her face, as her dewy skin was devoid of makeup.

  “Looks like they left a while ago. I’m sorry. I should’ve come back sooner.” If he hadn’t been prying into her Spark emails...

  “They left about ten minutes ago and if they’d had their way, they would’ve left even sooner.”

  “Did they believe you?” He pointed to the kitchen. “Can I have some water? That coffee was pretty bad.”

  “I’ll get it.” In just a few steps, she reached the kitchen and poured him a glass of water from a dispenser in the fridge. As she handed him the glass, she said, “They didn’t say they didn’t believe me...but they didn’t believe me.”

  “Even with that messed-up bed.”

  “I know, right? Imagine what they would’ve thought about that crease in the bedspread.”

  “But they knew about Dr. Fazal’s murder?”

  “That’s basically why they came out. They thought I was just being jumpy, but they were okay. Stayed longer than they wanted to or had to.” She dipped down and patted her laptop case. “How about you? Did you find anything?”

  He felt a warm flush spread through his chest under her dark gaze. She knew.

  “I think you’re going to have to do the investigating. I don’t know what those patient files are supposed to look like and if there’s anything weird about them.” He tapped his chin and as his scruff scratched his fingertips, now he wished he would’ve shaved after he got off the plane this morning. “I thought about the patient you’d mentioned before—the one Fazal didn’t enter in the regular database.”

  “Yeah, his mysterious patient who didn’t need any follow-up exercises.”

  “Do you remember his name?”

  “Peter Patel.”

  “Patel?”

  “Indian, right?”

  “A very common Indian name.”

  “Like Smith or Jones would be in the US.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So, if an Indian man...”

  “Or Pakistani.”

  “If he wanted a common name, he might choose Patel.”

  “The mystery patient could’ve been a friend of Dr. Fazal’s.”

  “A friend he didn’t want to acknowledge for some reason.”

  “A friend from the past, from Dr. Fazal’s homeland, someone who knew what he’d done.”

  She twisted her ponytail around her hand and screwed up the side of her mouth. “Do you think Patel killed Dr. Fazal?”

  “If Peter Patel, or whatever his name is, was Dr. Fazal’s enemy, I doubt Fazal would’ve pretended he was a patient and protected his identity. I’m thinking he was a friend, someone who needed help.”

  “And that help may have gotten Dr. Fazal murdered—figures he’d think of someone else before himself.” She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand.

  Austin tipped his head toward the laptop. “Do you want to take a look now or are you ready for bed? It’s late.”

  “I’ll look now.” She sat on the floor in front of the coffee table and crossed her legs beneath her. “What are you going to be doing tonight while I’m...sleeping?”

  “Keeping watch.” He sank onto the couch across from Sophia, his knees banging against the coffee table.

  “Outside all night?”

  “If you don’t mind, I thought I’d camp out on your couch. I’m a light sleeper. If anyone tried to break in, I’d know it.”

  She tapped her keyboard. “Do you think someone might try it?”

  “Someone got in here before, and it doesn’t seem as if he found what he wanted. He’ll try again.”

  “Are you going to take up permanent residence on my couch?” She peered at him over the laptop lid.

  “Sophia, you’re going to have to get out of here. It’s not safe.”

  “Are you kidding? Where will I go? How will I afford it?”

  “I can take care of all of that. You’re a possible source of information for this case—and it’s a very important case. We’ll keep you safe.”

  “I’ve heard that one before.” She held up one finger. “Got him. Peter Patel, knee injury.”

  He hunched forward and she spun the computer to the side so he could see the monitor. An intake form filled the screen—name, address and other vitals.

  “Can you print this out?”

  “Done.” She clicked the screen and a printer across the room buzzed to life. “Are you going to pay Mr. Patel a visit?”

  “Since he won’t be coming back to the office, yes.”

  “Can I come?”

  “No.” He tapped the screen. “Do you see anything out of the ordinary?”

  “Other than the fact that this information wasn’t entered into our patient database? No.” She pushed up and crossed the room to grab the printouts. Then she slid them on the table in front of him. “Anything else you want me to check out?”

  “Let’s start with Patel.”

  She kneeled in front of the computer and her fingers flew across the keyboard. “My Spark date from tonight sent me an email. Said he understood if I changed my mind but asked if I wanted to try again.”

  “No.” He grabbed Patel’s paperwork and squinted at it as if it were the most fascinating data ever.

  Her dark eyes narrowed. “That’s rather intrusive considering you and I just met today.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to date random strangers—especially now.”

  “I’d been chatting with this guy long before Dr. Fazal’s murder, and we already had one date.”

  “Even if you weren’t a target for terrorists, online dating isn’t safe. You can’t meet guys the old-fashioned way?”

  Doubling over, she banged her head on the coffee table and snorted...or coughed...or maybe that was a laugh. Then she tipped her head back. “Old-fashioned way? You mean bars? I don’t do bars, don’t drink. Besides, online dating has become one of the most common and popular ways to meet people. Where have you been hiding?”

  “Umm, a variety of places around the world—wherever I’m deployed.”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.” She shut down her computer and snapped the cover shut. “Trust me. Online dating is the way to go.”

  “Seems kind of impersonal.”

  “You got that right.” She formed her fingers into the shape of a gun and pointed at him. “I’m going to sleep. I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow for the c
ouch. Should I take my .22 to bed with me?”

  “That’s okay. I’ll take care of the firepower.”

  “You don’t trust me? I’m a pretty good shot.”

  “That’s a handy skill to have, but I’ll keep watch. You go to bed and think about where you want to move tomorrow.”

  She put her laptop away and disappeared into the hallway for a minute. She returned with a folded blanket and a pillow from her bed in her arms with a toothbrush in its original package on top.

  She tossed the toothbrush to him. “Courtesy of my dentist.”

  “Floss, too? I’m a flosser.”

  Tipping her head to one side so that her ponytail swung over her shoulder, she said, “I figured you for a flosser. Top right drawer of my vanity.”

  “Thanks, Sophia.”

  She folded her arms, grabbing handfuls of her Boston U sweatshirt at her sides. “No, thank you. I really don’t know what I would’ve done—or where I’d be now—if you hadn’t appeared in the backseat of my car after...”

  Choked up by emotion or embarrassed by it, she spun around and made a beeline for her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

  He grabbed the toothbrush and took it with him to the bathroom. He knew where she’d be about now—sitting under some hot light, probably tied up and getting interrogated by some very bad people. He would never allow that to happen to her.

  After brushing his teeth he settled on the couch and flicked on the TV, his Glock beside him. Being on watch without his Win Mag always felt a little strange, but then everything about this assignment was strange.

  He’d been too late to protect Dr. Hamid Fazal, but not too late to protect Sophia Grant. Now that he’d met the woman with the sad childhood and the hard shell, he’d do anything to keep her safe.

  He’d never kept anything from his superiors before, but he just might want to conceal his crazy attraction to Sophia. Ariel, the woman he was supposed to be reporting to didn’t need to know, even though he’d never allow his emotions to get the better of him.

  That had happened only once.

  Chapter Five

  The next morning, Sophia tiptoed out of her bedroom into the living room, but she needn’t have bothered. Austin, sitting on the edge of the couch, the pillow and folded blanket at one end, was clicking away on his cell phone. A flosser and an early riser.

  She crossed her arms over the baggy T-shirt she wore to bed to match her equally baggy sweats. For the first time in about ever, she wished she had one of those filmy negligees to slink around in. Maybe she could actually get the man to notice when she walked into a room.

  She cleared her throat. “Good morning.”

  He jerked his head up. “Whoa. Why are you sneaking around?”

  “I thought you might be sleeping.” She tugged on the hem of her T-shirt. “All quiet last night?”

  “Yep.” He returned to his phone.

  “Coffee?” She strolled into the kitchen and grabbed the coffeepot. “Do you think the people after me know that you’re here?”

  He rose from the couch and stretched, his plain white T-shirt straining across an impressive set of muscles. “I think so, but whether or not they know who I am and why I’m here is a different story.”

  The water from the faucet had spilled over the top of the coffeepot and splashed over her hand while she’d been ogling Austin’s physique. She shut off the faucet and tipped the excess water into the sink. “Would they have any reason to believe you’d be here?”

  “Me, personally? No.” He crossed his arms and leaned against her kitchen table, dwarfing it. “But they might suspect that US Intelligence is onto them, especially after the murder of Fazal. They know there’s no way we’d let Fazal’s death go unnoticed and uninvestigated.”

  “Was Dr. Fazal doing any work for the intelligence agencies? I mean currently?”

  “Not that I know of, but then, I’m not privy to that kind of information. I protected the doctor once, and was called in on this assignment because he contacted an intelligence officer and because of the chatter.”

  “What kind of chatter?”

  Austin put a finger to his lips. “Top secret. Do you just drink coffee for breakfast or do you actually have food in that kitchen?”

  Holding up her hand, she ticked off each finger. “Bagels, cereal—the healthy kind—eggs.”

  “If it’s okay with you, I’ll toast a bagel. Cream cheese?”

  “Just butter.”

  “I can work with that.” He circled into the kitchen, immediately making the space feel even more small and cramped than it was.

  She pressed her back against the counter, sliding her hands behind her. “Bagels in the breadbox, next to the toaster.”

  Her phone buzzed on the counter and she checked the display. A knot tightened in her belly. “It’s Morgan O’Reilly, one of Dr. Fazal’s nurses.”

  “Aren’t you going to answer it?”

  “I—I’m not going to say anything about you.”

  “That’s right.”

  She blew out a breath and answered the call. “Hi, Morgan.”

  The woman sniffled. “Oh, my God, Sophia. I can’t believe it. Was it a robbery? Is that what the cops are calling it? They told me the office was trashed.”

  “It was, but I don’t know if anything was missing. I expect the cops will want Ginny to do an inventory of the drugs.”

  “We didn’t have that many drugs. I could think of a few offices that would have a lot more than us.” Morgan blew her nose. “We’re going in today, Anna and I. The cops told us we could come in after noon. Do you want to join us? You’d know as much as we would if something was missing.”

  “Yeah, yeah, if the cops said we could come in.” She reached across the kitchen and nudged Austin.

  “I think they want us to start picking up the pieces to see what’s what.”

  “I’ll definitely be there.”

  She glanced at Austin, who nodded as he dropped two halves of a bagel into her toaster.

  She and Morgan comforted each other with a few more meaningless words, and then she ended the call. “We’re all meeting at the office after twelve o’clock.”

  “Are the police going to be there? Is it still a crime scene?”

  “I don’t know. Since they gave us a specific time, maybe not.” She turned toward the counter and poured the coffee into two mugs. “Were you planning on coming along?”

  “I’ll go with you, but I’m not going into the office. I don’t want to explain myself to the Boston PD. Remember—” he pinched a bagel half between two fingers and tossed it onto a plate “—I’m not supposed to be here.”

  “Milk? Sugar?”

  “Black.”

  She carried both mugs of coffee to the table and sat down. “Do you have a car?”

  “It’s at my hotel. I walked to the office.”

  “Your hotel is downtown?”

  “Just a few blocks from Dr. Fazal’s office.” He sat across from her, putting the plate between them. “Do you want the other half?”

  She picked up one half of the bagel and bit into it. The butter ran down her chin and she swiped it away with her fingers. “What’s the plan?”

  “I’m going to drop you off at the office where you can have a look around with the others. If you see anything out of the ordinary, take a picture for me.” He tapped his chin. “More butter.”

  Her face warm, she jumped up from the table and ripped two pieces of paper towel from the rack. In her sweats and T-shirt with butter dripping off her chin, she must’ve presented an appealing picture. Not that she’d ever cared what kind of picture she presented before this hot navy SEAL had landed on her couch. Who knew she’d ever be attracted to a military guy, since she usually avoided authority fig
ures like the plague.

  When she returned to the table, she waved a paper towel in front of him and he snatched it from her.

  She wiped her chin with the other. “Where are you going to be while I’m sifting through the office?”

  “I’m going to pick up my laptop at the hotel before I drop you off.” He plucked the white T-shirt from his chest with two fingers. “Shower and change, and then I’ll find a nice Boston coffeehouse where I’m going to do a little research on Peter Patel.”

  “Then should we come back here?” Her gaze darted around her small apartment, which had been her first real home.

  “Absolutely not. This place is compromised.” He swallowed the last bit of his bagel and dragged the paper towel across his mouth. “You can stay at the hotel with me...for now.”

  She gulped a mouthful of coffee. “How long is this twenty-four-hour protection going to last? I have a life—sort of.”

  “Until we can figure out who murdered Dr. Fazal, why and what they want with you.”

  “Couldn’t that take years?”

  Austin’s green eyes flickered. “It’s not going to take years, and I know Dr. Fazal would want us to protect you so any life you have can be put on hold for your own safety.”

  “Maybe this is all some big mistake.” She collected the plate and her coffee cup. “It could just be a robbery turned deadly.”

  “Could be, but I doubt it. Not after the chatter we heard involving Dr. Fazal, not given Fazal’s background. I’m sorry, Sophia.” He pushed back from the table and took the dishes from her hands, his fingers brushing hers. “Why don’t you get ready, pack a bag, take what you’ll need for a week or two.”

  “A week or two?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “To be on the safe side.”

  He kept using that word—safe—but she didn’t feel safe at all, not when her world had just been turned upside down for the umpteenth time in her life.

  “Give me about half an hour, and help yourself to another bagel.”

  In her bedroom, she grabbed the new pair of jeans she had been planning to wear on her date last night and a red sweater. She slipped from her room to the bathroom and ran the water to warm it up. She dropped her sweats on the floor and then touched the edge of the toothbrush Austin had used last night.