Page 45 of Sighs By the Sea

The mustached man purses his lips. “He wouldn’t. This feels like a wild goose chase. We train elite teams here—Seals, Rangers, Delta Force. We have an entire city just for practicing urban warfare. We take security very seriously.”

Maggie nods. “And it’s an island,” she adds.

That brings a small smile to the Navy man’s face. “Yes, it is.”

“Let us chat with Courtney, and we’ll be out of your hair as quickly as possible.”

“Of course, ma’am.” We reach a dirt road where a Humvee is waiting. The Navy man opens the back door and helps Maggie inside. It’s clear that wherever we go, men are drawn to Maggie’s direct personality. It doesn’t hurt that she’s looking stunning in the green blouse Miranda lent her. The color makes Maggie’s entire face pop. I’m no expert in makeup, but she’s done something to her eyes that makes them look even more captivating. With so much excitement radiating from her, it’s nearly impossible not to be drawn in. As evidenced by every single muscled, tough military man ogling her. Thank God I’m here. Not that she can’t handle herself, but it’s easier if I lay some sort of claim. Just to keep them off her, of course. There’s no other reason. I take her hand when we’re both seated inside the vehicle. Leaning closer, I say, “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look in green?”

As intended, her face flushes red. “Mr. Cardenas, not in front of the boys.” The teasing goes straight to my core.

I nibble on her ear, and she turns, grabbing my face. Our lips meet in a quick but passionate kiss. It probably would have gone on longer and gotten much more inappropriate if it weren’t for the mustached man’s loud throat clearing.

Maggie giggles as she pulls back, only to bury her face in my chest, laughing into my shirt. I wrap my arm around her shoulders as the Humvee starts up and lurches forward. We’re driving at a speed that makes me uneasy, but the bumps and rocks along the dirt road jostling us every which way are even worse.

Finally, we pull up to a drab, nondescript building that looks older than I am. The officer gets out, leaving his gun in the passenger seat.

Without a word, we get out too. Following behind the man, whose name tape reads ‘Hobbs,’ I feel tension spike as soon as we’re inside.

“Shipmate! Up or down,” Hobbs barks at a sailor, pointing to his sleeves. The hall is full of service members, each in various states of undress, but they all part for Hobbs. He’s clearly a leader, though I have no idea what the gold leaves on his camo collar mean.

When we reach one of the last doors, an MP is waiting. “He’s inside, sir.”

“Stand post until they’re done,” Hobbs orders. The MP nods and steps aside to let Maggie and me in.

A man sits on the bed in blue camo pants and a navy-blue shirt, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he scrolls through his phone. A large skull tattoo on his forearm is wrapped around a snake, with his name inked beneath it.

Hobbs stomps over and rips the cigarette from his mouth, dropping it to the floor and crushing it under his boot. “No smoking in the barracks.”

Courtney immediately sits up, swinging his legs off the bed. “Sorry, sir. No excuse, sir.” What would it be like to have people bend to your every command? I’d like it, that’s for sure. Especially in the bedroom.

“Lars Courtney?” Maggie asks.

“Yeah, you the cop?” Hobbs kicks at Courtney’s boots. “Shipmate, we address our superiors with ‘Yes, Ma’am’ or ‘No, Ma’am.’ Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Courtney says, bobbing his head before turning to Maggie. “Ma’am, are you the officer I’m supposed to speak with?” His tone is sharp but not enough to earn another reprimand, thank God. I don’t know how much more I can take of seeing a grown man get berated for such minor infractions.

“I am. This is my associate, Grayson Cardenas. We just have a few questions about your brother.”

“What about him?” He eyes us warily until Hobbs clears his throat. “Ma’am?” he adds quickly.

“My associate got word that he was staying with you here.”

Courtney’s head jerks back like he’s shocked, but his eyes dart around the room. “How the hell would he get here?”

“Shipmate!” Hobbs yells, but Maggie steps in. “Maybe it would be best if you waited in the hall?” she suggests with a slight wince. Hobbs eyes Courtney warily but spins out of the room as only a military man can.

Once he’s gone, Maggie turns back to Courtney. “I’m sure the Navy would love to know as well.”

Courtney scoffs, leaning back against the wall. The room is bare and gray, with nothing but a green seabag lying on the floor. The twin bed barely fits Courtney’s large frame. “What’s your MOS?” Maggie asks, narrowing her eyes.

“Supply,” Courtney answers quickly, then realizes he probably shouldn’t have said anything. I have no idea why that matters, but Maggie seems to know what she’s doing.

“When was the last time you saw your brother?”

“Bailed him out of jail back in San Diego. That’s my home port. I’m just here on TAD.”

She nods, though the acronym is lost on me. “Was that on March 3rd for the B&E?”

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