even as the words left her mouth, the nagging thought she’d had since the moment she’d seen her father lying on the ground roared to the surface.
Graham Monroe had been an extremely cautious man. He would never have gone on the sloped roof without either someone holding the ladder, or without hooking a safety harness to the metal rung he’d attached to the roof. So why hadn’t he tied off to protect himself from falling that fateful day?
Dread filled her. “Are you telling me my father’s death wasn’t an accident?”
Had her father been murdered?
“Dude, what were you thinking?”
Linc’s pointed question stabbed at Westley. They were friends so Westley didn’t take exception to the tone or the probing. Taking Felicity into his arms was a huge slip in judgment. He knew the rules. Fraternization with a subordinate could get him and her bounced out of the air force.
A stupid move.
But in that moment, she’d looked so vulnerable he couldn’t stop himself from comforting her. The fact that she’d felt so right snuggled against his chest burned a hole through his heart.
She fit him...they fit together—just as he’d imagined.
For the past six months, ever since she’d walked into the training center as a newly promoted staff sergeant, her blue-green eyes sparkling and her infectious grin shining like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, he’d been struggling with his attraction for the rookie K-9 trainer.
It had to stop.
Hadn’t he been telling himself that every day he worked with Felicity? Yes. And every night when she would slip into his dreams.
He didn’t understand it.
Not liking her should have been easy.
She was so annoyingly optimistic and bubbly. Her rookie mistakes sent his blood pressure skyrocketing and her ability to calm the dogs, though surprising and admirable, grated. Which made no sense at all.
The dogs trusted her from the get-go. And that fact told him about the type of person she was. The dogs sensed her kindness, trustworthiness and gentleness. But letting himself show any emotion regarding the rookie trainer was out of the question.
He’d even been harder on her than anyone else so no one would think he liked her. But that had only upset her, and in return made him angry at himself. He couldn’t win.
All those things made his lapse in judgment minutes ago that much worse. And he had no reasonable explanation for taking her into his arms.
He had no room in his life for her. Period. He wasn’t interested in forming any type of emotional bonds. He learned not to growing up, because ties only break and when they do they hurt.
He cast his eyes down, not knowing how to answer. Before he could, the tech sergeant spoke again. “Leaving the debriefing without permission wasn’t cool, man,” he said.
Oh. That. Yeah, the base commander, Lieutenant General Hall, and Captain Justin Blackwood, Westley’s supervisor, would no doubt chew him up and spit him out with a reprimand. Westley sent Linc a sidelong glance. Did that mean Linc hadn’t witnessed the embrace between Westley and Felicity?
He blew out a breath of relief.
If Felicity hadn’t stepped back when she had, they’d both be in deep hot water.
“I wasn’t thinking,” he admitted to his friend. He ran a hand through his hair. “When I heard Felicity’s name called off that list of Boyd Sullivan’s potential targets, all I could think of was getting to her.”
He couldn’t let another person he was responsible for be hurt. Not after losing two last night.
“Excuse me?” Linc shook his head. “I don’t think I want to have heard you right.”
“She was supposed to be on duty last night, but she and Tamara swapped shifts.”
Linc’s eyes widened with understanding. “I see. Make sure you tell Lieutenant General Hall.”
Westley barked out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. I will.”
And he’d also have to find a way to protect Felicity and, in doing so, keep them both out of trouble.
* * *
As Ian brought the SUV to a halt in a parking spot in front of the base-command offices, Felicity stared at him. Her heart pounded in her chest as the implications bounced around her mind. “You didn’t answer my question. Do you think my father’s death wasn’t an accident?”
“There’s no evidence to suggest foul play. But the timing seemed odd,” Ian admitted as he turned to face her. His eyes were troubled. “Your dad was working on a case that was highly sensitive, but we can’t find his case notes or his laptop.”
Anxiety slammed against her ribs. “His office was packed up and brought to the house, but I didn’t see any files or his computer.”
She thought back to the box that had held pictures of her, chronicling her life from a young, gap-toothed kid to her official BMT graduation photo in her dress blues. There were the many photographs she’d taken over the years with her beloved professional-grade camera and gifted to her father to decorate his office. And, of course, all of his framed awards and certificates, a custom-made penholder and other paraphernalia that wasn’t worth much beyond sentimentality.
“What about his home office?” Ian asked.
She shrugged but couldn’t shake the dread crawling up her spine. “I can look. But Dad was as well-ordered and uncluttered as they come. I sorted through his desk and file cabinet searching for his will, which was filed under W. I didn’t see any folders or files that looked official or had anything to do with his work.”
She’d also found her parents’ divorce papers, which had added to her sadness in the days following her father’s death. Calling her mother in San Francisco with the news had been hard. Hearing her mother, usually so in control, sobbing on the other line had pierced Felicity’s heart.
Her parents had still loved each other even though they’d chosen to go their separate ways. Neither had remarried. As a teen, she’d secretly hoped they’d reunite, but that had never happened.
“Are you investigating my dad’s death?” she asked.
For a moment, Ian was silent, but her heart beat so loud in her ears, she was sure he heard it as well.
“Not officially,” he finally replied in a measured tone. “I am looking into your father’s last case. But I’m having to start over. Now with the Red Rose Killer on base, everything else will have to be pushed to the back burner.”
Her chest tightened with a wave of grief. “What was my father working on?”
Ian hesitated. “A hit-and-run off base. A witness reported
