Dangerous Attraction Romantic Suspense Boxed Set (153 page)

“I don’t smell dog,” he said.

“Fuck you, Fredo. Bay’s at home. He figured he wasn’t exactly welcome here.”

“Oh, he’s okay. It’s his dog hair and salt water-smelling pelt that isn’t,” Fredo said with a wince. He hailed the waitress for some coffee, and sat down across from Cooper.

“So, you want to hit Gunny’s after breakfast, or you get enough exercise this morning?” Fredo looked up at Coop under his bushy eyebrows. Creases on his forehead made him resemble a Shar Pei.

Cooper knew he deserved the ribbing. He’d neglected his best friend and constant companion. They commonly introduced themselves as twins. It never ceased to draw laughter from the fairer sex since there was more than a foot difference in their heights. Cooper resembled a Viking king and Fredo a Mayan priest.

“Sounds good to me. You eat?”

“You’ll be happy to know I did. Armani’s mom made some fresh salsa and I doused everything in it.”

“I’ll bet.” Cooper finished the last bite of breakfast and took a long sip of water. After grabbing several packets of sugar, stuffing them into his back pocket, he rose and brought his tag over to the cash register. Fredo followed behind.

“Let’s take the truck. You can get your scooter later. Or, do you want to scratch it up putting it in the back?”

“I’m leaving it right here. Safer than Gunnys’.”

Cooper opened the rusted green door to Fredo’s beater and climbed inside. He found the floor of the truck after brushing aside a few fast food wrappers with his canvas slip-ons. He flicked the hula girl stuck to Fredo’s dash and she performed for him.

The smoking truck made it down the quiet street, backfiring just before they turned right. After a short drive over the bridge to the Strand at Coronado, they drove a few more blocks until they crossed railroad tracks in an industrial area.
Gunny’s Gym
it said on the plate glass window. Below the lettering was a Popeye-like character holding a barbell, sporting an anchor tattoo on his forearm.

They pushed open Gunny’s glass front door, tinkling the little bell hung at the top of the doorframe. Gunny was reading the paper, but the TV was blaring a newstalk program. Two older well-built men were spotting each other with free weights. Cooper recognized them as retired SEALs from Team 5.

“Gents,” he said to them. He got a nod for his effort.

“Well, if it isn’t lover boy,” Gunny blurted out loud enough for the silver SEALs to hear. Cooper sighed and prepared himself for another ribbing. It was always this way. Everyone in the whole community knew he’d just lost his entire family. Knew he’d spent some time with a sweet young thing after he got back. Knew that Timmons had ordered him to stand down for a few days, and knew that the only thing he probably wanted to do was go back on deployment to forget about both situations.

They also probably knew that it could cost him his life if he didn’t pay close attention when he returned overseas. There was no way in Hell he would make it without the community around him, but he could be counted on to get himself right in the head so he wouldn’t be anyone’s liability.

Cooper was just going to do what everyone expected of him: do some PT, physical training, get some rest, keep his damn mouth shut, and deal with it.

Gunny threw white towels at both of them. It was going to be a hot day, and the ex-Marine was wearing a logo t-shirt with the sleeves generously cut out of it. As he bent over to wipe down a couple of benches and some of the rusty iron equipment, Coop could see the edges of Gunny’s tattoo inked right over the man’s sternum. He knew it read, “Already Gave,” which was a comment intended to address the sorry son-of-a-bitch who might try to harvest Gunny’s lungs in the event of his demise.

Cooper searched the rack of free weights while he wondered about Gunny’s health. It was widely held among those in the community that Gunny was just too ornery to succumb to his cancer. He was one tough Marine. One lung had been cut out a couple of years ago, and the other one was working overtime on half speed. Didn’t help that Gunny still occasionally smoked, in spite of the cancer.

Gunny didn’t have fancy equipment at the gym. Nothing digital, except for a scale. He’d been forced to get the new one because guys kept tinkering with the old manual one to cheat. The floor was covered with heavy black mats that smelled of plastic and sweat. That made it easy to throw down the barbells when a man was finished. That was one of the unwritten rules everyone followed here. Placing the barbells carefully back on their rack instead of throwing them to bounce on the mats made a newcomer stand out like a lamb in a stampede.

Kyle and Armando arrived, laughing about something so hard, they bumped into the side of the doorway. Armando swore as he rubbed his right shoulder, which had taken the brunt of the contact. Both of them stopped short when they saw Cooper.

“I’ll be damned,” Armando said. “Didn’t think I’d see you for another couple of days at least. What happened?” The Puerto Rican SEAL grinned, as his hands gripped his hips. Armando was shirtless, except for his dog tags.

Fredo offered an answer. “You know he’s got that dog. Small place. Ew!”

Even Gunny laughed at that one.

Cooper knew he wasn’t required to answer, but it was important he show he wasn’t overly sensitive. He knew Kyle was still assessing his mental state.

“She has to eat and shop some time.” He shrugged, figuring it might be believable. No sense drawing attention to their breakup.

“She’s gotta get rid of the fleas, first,” Fredo quipped. Cooper pushed him off the bench and the short SEAL fell backward on his rear.

Kyle came over and drew an arm over Cooper’s shoulders, which was difficult because of the difference in their sizes. “Good to see you here, sailor,” he said. “Armani here’s looking for houses for Mia this afternoon. I think he might need your opinion on all the gadgets.”

“Just what I wanted to do this afternoon,” Cooper returned. And why not? It was good to pretend things were back to normal. A year and a half ago, Armando’s sister, Mia, had been kidnapped and had just barely been able to bring a baby to term throughout the ordeal. The Team had rescued her and Armando, who had been abducted to ensnare their Team leader, Kyle, in a gun-smuggling ring. Afterwards, they’d done their 4-month workup and then deployed. Now everyone was getting on with their lives.

Cooper glanced up at the TV monitor. In the center of the screen was a picture of the Brownlee home with the red banner below that read
Breaking News.

Chapter Seventeen

Cooper, Kyle, Armando, Fredo and Gunny rode over to Libby’s house in Fredo’s four-door salvage beater. Cooper discovered he’d been rocking back and forth as he stared out the passenger side window.

Looking for what?

He wondered about so many things. The Team gave him a silent, wide berth as he thought about Libby and what they were going to face.

No.
He just couldn’t bring himself to think anything serious or permanent had happened to her.
What if she’s—?”

When they arrived, he noticed Kyle giving him the long look. Cooper had jumped out the door before their truck stopped rolling. Kyle, right behind him, slammed the rattling door of the old beater. Fredo and everyone else exited the other side.

Cooper was on his way to mounting the front steps two at a time to meet the yellow crime scene tape when Kyle grabbed his arm. “We wait for the Team, Coop,” Kyle reminded him.

Of course. This isn’t a single soldier mission or a suicide mission.

Fredo’s stance was rigid and wide as he whistled appreciation for the size of the Brownlee house. Blocking the street ahead of them was a large fire truck with two more parked just beyond.

“Her dad a rock star or some shit?” Fredo asked him.

“Doctor. Her dad’s a psychiatrist.”

The group stopped for a second and looked at Cooper like he was an idiot.

I am an idiot.

Fredo spoke the words Coop knew were coming. “Look, man. Something wrong with a man who would get snuggly with the daughter of a shrink who lives in
this
house. She’s got to be all fucked up, man.”

Coop reacted, but his liaison was quick to grab him from behind, keeping his arms pinned to his sides.

“Not helpful, Fredo. Your timing sucks big time.” Kyle shouted to his sharpshooter. He was struggling to keep Cooper restrained. He leaned into Coop’s ear and whispered, “You be careful, Coop. You know Fredo’s just jealous of your success.” Then his Chief laid a kiss on that same ear, which made Coop explode out of his restraints and whirl around to face his Team leader.

“Fuck you. Fuck you all,” Coop said as he sneered at their laughter. He usually didn’t mind the chuckles at his expense. But he didn’t like Libby being laughed at. Not today, when he wasn’t sure how she was doing and how he felt about it.

Well, he knew how he felt about it. He was scared he was too late.
She’s not the fucked up one. I am.
How the hell had he gotten so involved in such a tangled mess?

Coop rolled his neck and swung his arms around in the air to loosen his shoulder sockets. He felt Armando give him a big slap on the back, which started their forward momentum again.

“Don’t mind him, Coop. Fredo’s an asshole, and Kyle’s right. He’s fuckin’ jealous. Besides which, Mia turned him down again.”

“Now who’s the asshole?” Fredo shouted. Coop could see the embarrassment on his best friend’s face. The little Mexican SEAL was not very successful with the ladies. He acted like a teenager around Mia, Armando’s sister. Making matters worse, Mia kept forgetting Fredo’s name, calling him Frodo, which didn’t help the height-challenged Team guy.

“Alright, everybody chill,” came the command from their leader, Kyle. “We gotta focus on what’s going on. Then we’ll get the hell outa here. Just remember yourselves. We don’t really belong here.”

They came up to an African American uniformed policeman who stood just in front of the brick pathway to front door. On guard. The beefy guy gave Cooper a glare like he was the leader of a terrorist cell. Cooper saw he had unsnapped his holstered gun and was ready. His eyes softened when the officer got a look at Kyle, who stepped up to him and gripped his hand backwards and gave him a brief hug.

“Hey there, Lannie. You know these folks?” he asked.

“My medic does. There’s a girl inside he’s sweet on. She okay?”

Cooper winced but listened carefully.

The policeman grinned. “More than okay, I’d say.” He nodded in Cooper’s direction, “She’s fine.”

Cooper wasn’t liking the small talk. He was anxious to see her for himself. But he was relieved, just the same.

There wasn’t any smoke anywhere. “Please, can we go in?” Coop asked the dark officer.

With black gloves, the San Diego policeman nodded, adding, “Don’t touch anything, and if anyone throws you out, I wasn’t the one to let you in, okay? Say you snuck in behind me.”

“Got it,” Kyle said. “We’re known for being invisible anyway.”

The guard chuckled. The SEAL group made their way up the brick walkway to the front door like one crab-like creature. They walked in silence, carrying their chests tall, swinging their arms casually. Coop knew that on the inside they were ready for anything.

Maybe something to do with Libby’s mother, or Dr. Brownlee?
Whatever it was, it had to be bad enough to draw out three huge engine crews.

The front door was ajar, so Kyle let Coop step into the entryway. The acrid smell of burning upholstery and woodwork hit his nose and made him cough. He lead their little SEAL delegation and caught Carla’s attention as she was coming out of the kitchen. Her face was white, her eyes wide, and for a moment, Cooper thought perhaps something terrible had happened to Dr. Brownlee. The news hadn’t said anything about someone being harmed. But Cooper knew that a fire, if it was that, was no accident.

“Oh Cooper,” she said as she ran over and gave him a hug. Then she adjusted her hair and stepped back, embarrassed.

“Ma’am. These are friends of mine. This is my Senior, Kyle Lansdowne. There’s Armando, Fredo and this here’s Gunny.” Everyone took turns shaking Mrs. Brownlee’s hand. She was speechless.

“I’m surprised they let you in,” she said.

“Did two tours with your guard out front, Ma’am,” Kyle offered. “He lost part of an arm in Afghanistan.”

Cooper understood completely. He turned to Mrs. Brownlee. “Can you tell us what happened?” he asked.

Carla looked around to see who else might be listening and then started, “Someone set Austin’s office on fire. There’s not much structural damage, but it’s a mess. Fire’s out, I think.” She waved her hand in front of her face to swish remnants of smoke from her eyes.

“Anyone hurt?” He meant that to mean Libby.

“No, we’re all fine. Who would do such a thing, Cooper?”

“Not sure, ma’am. No offense, but I’m not the shrink here.” he answered.

She narrowed her eyes and leaned towards him. “Libby’s out by the pool.” She waited, looking into all the faces of Cooper’s Team. “You boys come on in, but stay away from the investigators. Coop, I think she’d want to see you, privately, of course.”

Of course he wanted to. But would she be happy to see him? He knew she’d be terrified. Suddenly he needed to get to her.

The guys sauntered through the entryway to the foyer, doing a double-take at the tall ceilings and intricate metal staircase leading to the second floor, as Cooper pushed by them on his way toward the kitchen and rear yard. He heard the squawk of police and fire radios.

Fredo ran to catch up to him. He didn’t need a nursemaid or a witness to whatever he was going to say to her, but a part of him was grateful Fredo had his back. As they passed by Dr. Brownlee’s office, three large yellow-clad firemen had their arms filled with boxes of smoldering papers, which they dropped on cue and began spreading out on the floor. A dark black streak went up the side of one wall of the study, originating from the opened window to the backyard. Dr. Brownlee was absent-mindedly wandering around the room, looking at various piles of manila folders and paperwork, generally making himself a nuisance to the firemen.