Romancing the Crown: Kate & Lucas: Under the King's Command / The Prince's Wedding. Justine Davis
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If you ever change your mind, be sure to let me know.
“Lieutenant?” the sergeant asked.
“Yes, that would be helpful,” Kate answered belatedly.
She turned her attention to the papers she’d been given. She could handle this, she repeated to herself. No matter how difficult it was to concentrate, the situation was only temporary. As soon as Chambers was captured, this mission would be over and Sam would be on his way to his next one. Just like last time.
No, it wasn’t going to be like last time, not by a long shot. They were colleagues, that’s all. She wasn’t going to get drawn into a physical relationship with Sam Coburn again. She lifted her hand, her fingers touching the small bulge where her necklace rested beneath her uniform. When they parted this time, her life wasn’t going to take any painful twists. She was going to insure they had an easy goodbye.
The Montebellan policeman who was manning the tip line that had been set up for the public pulled off his headset and swiveled in his chair. “Lieutenant Coburn?” he called. “We have a development.”
Sam strode across the room. Kate hesitated only briefly, then set down her clipboard and followed him.
“A woman just called,” the policeman said. “I thought you would want to listen to this.”
Sam glanced at Kate, then waved away the telephone headset. “Put it on the speaker, Sergeant Chelios, so we can all listen,” he said.
Chelios nodded and punched a button on his console. “Go ahead, ma’am. Please repeat what you just told me.”
“Hello? Yes, my name is Sophia Genero. I’m worried about my son.”
“I’m Lieutenant Sam Coburn, United States Navy,” Sam said. “What seems to be the trouble, Mrs. Genero?”
“Armando’s only sixteen. He’s usually a responsible boy, but he didn’t come home for dinner tonight and I just know something is wrong.”
Sam glanced at the policeman who had taken the call. “Ma’am, this is a special police tip line. It sounds as if you should be talking directly to someone at—”
“No, you don’t understand. He’d been out sailing this morning, and his friends told me they saw him, uh, flirting with a strange woman on the beach around noon.”
“Flirting?”
“He’s only sixteen,” she repeated. “He’s a wonderful boy but not the kind a grown woman would be interested in. It didn’t sound right. He went back out in his boat after that, and no one has seen him since.”
“Your son has a boat?” Sam asked. “What kind? How large?”
“It’s a catboat. Only twenty-three feet.” The woman’s voice hitched. “We gave it to him for his birthday last month. He knows we don’t want him going far offshore with it.”
Sam looked at Kate. She could see by the hard set of his jaw that he didn’t think this was a case of an overprotective mother worrying about a wayward teenager. “Mrs. Genero,” he asked carefully. “Do you have a description of the woman your son was last seen with?”
There was a muffled sob. “That’s why I called this number. From what Armando’s friends said, she sounds as if she could be that woman on the news. The one who’s wanted for murder.”
The police helicopter swooped low over the headland. Shadows from the setting sun stretched across the sand and into the surf like camouflage stripes, making it difficult to focus on the change from light to dark. Sam kept the binoculars pressed to his eyes as he peered through the window.
The surveillance net wasn’t yet fully in place. Most boats had made it to their assigned grids, but there were still holes. Nevertheless, he believed Kate’s idea for a low-key blockade by civilian vessels was already proving to be a good one. Otherwise, Chambers might not have dared to come out of hiding so soon.
“We’re coming up to the beach now, sir.” The pilot’s voice came through Sam’s headset. “This was the spot where the boy was last seen, right?”
“Yes,” Sam said into his mike. “Can you drop your speed so we can get a better look?”
As the helicopter slowed, Sam continued his scrutiny of the area. There was a man tossing a stick for a dog, an elderly couple strolling along the tide line and a few cars parked in the lot on top of the bluff. The police were on their way and would arrive within minutes to do a ground search. This helicopter was the first on the scene.
“Do you see anything, Sam?” Kate asked, her voice crackling in his headphones.
“Not yet.” Sam didn’t lower his binoculars as he replied to Kate’s question. He knew she was peering through a pair of her own as the pilot headed along the coast. “What about you?”
“Two fishing vessels, a moored sloop but nothing matching the description of the boy’s boat. This could be a wild-goose chase.”
“That’s a possibility, but we can’t afford to dismiss it.”
“I agree. The boy’s mother sounded distressed.”
“I don’t blame her. Her kid was last seen playing touchy-feely with a woman in a bikini. Given the lure of sex, a kid that age would be willing to do just about anything.”
There was a silence. Sam could have kicked himself for bringing up the topic.
What he’d said was true, though. Men of all ages tended to put their common sense on hold when it came to sex. He was no different. It didn’t matter how many times he reminded himself of Kate’s disinterest, he still responded to her.
Well, if she didn’t want his interest, she should stop wearing that gardenia perfume, he thought irritably. And stop sitting so close.
He frowned. He knew he was being unreasonable. Neither of them had any choice in the seating arrangements in this helicopter. If they had, Kate would probably have opted for a perch on the landing strut. He instructed the pilot to fly a pattern of parallel sweeps that would take them progressively farther from the shore.
As the helicopter started its fourth sweep, Kate spoke. “I see something that looks like debris in the water about a hundred yards to starboard.”
The pilot brought the helicopter around in a stomach-wrenching one-hundred-eighty degree turn.
Sam felt Kate’s warmth as she leaned toward him to look past his shoulder. “Over there. Do you see the colors?”
Something red glinted on the crest of a swell. Sam adjusted the focus on his binoculars. Red, yellow and blue stripes flowed in a listless swirl on the surface of the water. “Looks like a sail. Fits the description of the one on the kid’s boat.”
The pilot brought them closer. The rotor’s backwash pushed the water into a circle of fuzzy waves.