Crossfire. Jodie Bailey
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Josh sprang to his feet, his pulse quickening and driving hammers into the impact point on his cheek. He never should have forgotten why he was here in the first place. “Specialist Cameron. Where is he?”
The question barely ended before Andrea reacted. Eyes narrowed, nostrils flared, she stood gingerly and faced off, fists clenched. “What’s going on, Josh?”
* * *
Prickles of fear crawled up Andrea’s spine and spread into her fingernails. The boy she’d known years ago was now the man who happened into her office at just the right time? Two men bursting in to ask about the same young soldier? More than a dozen years had passed since she last laid eyes on Josh, and there was no way to tell what he’d gotten into in the intervening time. For all intents and purposes, he was as much a stranger as the giant she’d kicked in the face.
Andrea crossed her arms and squared her shoulders. Her mind whirled for a way to escape while her ankle protested enough to let her know in no uncertain terms that she couldn’t expect to make a run for it and get very far. Take control of the situation. Buck his authority. Let him know you’re in charge. “What do you want with Specialist Cameron?”
Perplexity floated across the brown eyes that locked on to hers. Josh’s eyebrows drew together in a V, betraying his confusion at her barely concealed accusation. “He’s one of my soldiers. Where is he?” His gaze darted around the room, taking in each corner.
“Clearly, he’s not here. And your friend who just ran out of here got the same speech from me. I won’t tell you the last time I saw Specialist Cameron, but I will tell you it wasn’t today.” Andrea held her breath and stiffened her spine, unwilling to believe Josh could be on the wrong side of this, but knowing she had to protect herself and Wade if he was.
“My friend?” He looked back to her, and a sudden flicker of understanding darkened his features. “Wait a second. You think I was with the punk who just busted in here and tried to tear you into pieces?”
“You’re both asking for the same person. That’s a little too much of a coincidence, don’t you think?” Indignation surged through Andrea, and she fought to hold it back. Her ankle might be throbbing, but her fists were ready to fly. She’d show this dark-eyed man he’d messed with the wrong woman if he so much as breathed too hard. He’d have more than a bruised cheek to worry about if...
She tilted her head. Had she actually given him that bruise? Smug warmth heated her face. Sweet. She still had it, even at thirty-two and after six years of sitting behind a desk.
Josh cleared his throat. “I have no idea what your first visitor wanted, but I can tell you that at approximately 1630 I watched Specialist Wade Cameron walk through those doors—” he jerked his thumb behind him “—and take a left turn.” His eyes scanned the lobby and lit on a door as his words evaporated into the muggy air.
Andrea tipped her head, still tensed for a fight. What was he talking about? “Wade never came in here. At 4:30 I was halfway through a fifty-minute session. With my receptionist Grace on vacation, Wade would have sat right here in these chairs and waited if you dropped him off here.” She stepped between Josh and the door he still eyed. “That’s a supply closet. The only other way out of this building is down that hall.” She pointed behind her to an opening near her office, on the opposite side of the lobby from the closet. “But that door’s always locked and it’s armed with a fire alarm. The only way out without making a racket is to unlock it and turn it off with the key, and only my receptionist and I have one.”
“He’s in that closet, then. I never saw him come back across the lobby, and there’s nowhere else in here he could be,” Josh muttered, moving to brush past her.
“Hold on.” Andrea planted a palm against his chest. It felt like a brick wall. Her hand burned against him. Liquid warmth seeped through her muscles, robbing them of their readiness. Was she crazy? The guy could be in league with the man who attacked her and she was noticing his chest? Maybe she should be the one having her head examined. She swallowed hard and willed her muscles back into fight mode. “Why did you bring Wade here?”
“You’re his counselor, I’m assuming? Alcohol abuse? He came to me and said he was struggling, that he’d slipped and started—”
“No.” Andrea braced her free hand on the reception counter. History couldn’t repeat itself. It couldn’t. They’d worked too hard to set him free. “There’s no way. Wade isn’t using again. That’s not possible.” Wade Cameron had come so far. He’d shown up in her office with an alcohol addiction so strong he couldn’t even get out of bed to go to physical training without a shot. When that didn’t work, he’d turned to marijuana. One hit, and he knew he’d gone too far. That was the day he’d shown up in her office, begging for help, ready to break the craving that was dragging him to his knees through the muck, threatening to ruin his career.
Josh softened. “He asked for help. He has a lot of respect for you. Not too long ago, he told me if anything ever happened to him I should see his counselor, Andrea. I had no problem bringing him here and waiting for him to come out again, only—”
“He never came out. But he never talked to me and there’s no way he got out the back door.”
* * *
Betrayal locked Josh’s back teeth together, shooting pain through the muscles in his injured cheek. He should never have teamed up with her brother to teach her how to defend herself. He took two steps toward the closed closet.
Andrea pushed herself from the counter and grabbed his biceps. “No. Give him a chance to come out before you go barging in. If he’s hiding, there’s a reason. Let him man up and face you instead of dragging him out like a child.”
Josh bit back a groan. Leave it to a therapist to play mind games. Fine. He’d call his soldier out, but he’d do it with every ounce of his authority. “Cameron!” The roar echoed off the walls.
Andrea jumped. “I didn’t mean so loud,” she muttered. “You make me want to hide in the closet.”
With a quick, amused glance in her direction, Josh took a deep breath and swallowed some of his ire. If he were a scared kid, he wouldn’t come out to bellowing, either. But any coward who hid while a lady fought off an attacker didn’t deserve much leniency in his book. Still, he’d humor her and lower his voice, but he refused to tone down the sternness. “Let’s go, Cameron. Time to talk.”
No sound leaked from the closet.
“You scared him.” Andrea wasn’t smiling anymore. “Let me handle it.” She stepped to the door. “Wade, it’s Andrea Donovan. The only two people out here are me and First Sergeant Walker. It’s safe.”
When nothing happened, Josh’s blood pressure soared. “This has gone far enough,” he muttered, his words drowned out by sirens from an approaching police car. Without wasting another second, he slipped around Andrea and yanked the wooden supply closet door open.
It was empty.
Wade Cameron had vanished.
TWO