Guardian Page 8

David forced a smile. “Coffee and doughnuts, on their way.”

  Subcontractor Keith Nelson barked, “Can we cut the chitchat, girls, and get back to work?”

  The old guy had a chip on his shoulder about flunking the physical to join the air force. He was an ass, no question, but a detail-oriented ass who was good at his job. Nothing got by him.

  Smooth jumped to the ground. “Any more news on Tate? The trial? Gage and Deluca said you really tore it up in the courtroom the other day. Fed that JAG her lunch.”

  “Lawyers,” Nelson sneered. “Fuck ’em. They always screw everything up, nitpicking every contract and document to pieces like we have a decade to waste waiting for them to process everything. How are we supposed to defend ourselves if whenever we come under attack, we have to consult the attorneys before we can even crank an engine?”

  Smooth laughed. “Don’t let the lawyers hear you say that.”

  Nelson scowled. “It’s not like they’re around to hear us.” He checked over his shoulder. “Are they?”

  More laughter bounced around like a football kicked into the rafters, and David wished he felt like joining in. “Coffee and doughnuts will be showing up shortly, just make sure you send some to us so we don’t fall asleep in the teleconference.”

  He would be joined for that boring telecom by Jimmy “Hotwire” Gage, Vince “Vapor” Deluca, and Mason “Smooth” Randolph. They had been on his crew in the old days when he flew the tests rather than ran tests. They’d been through a lot together, and now they were the old guys.

  Smooth hopped off the nose again and jogged over. “Everything okay, sir?”

  “Sure. Why?”

  “You just look tired.”

  “Neighbor had a break-in and I went over. Everyone’s okay.” He didn’t know why he withheld just who that neighbor was. “Have you heard anything from Tate?”

  Smooth and Tate had been hanging out lately since Randolph’s wife was overseas for six months as a contract police force. “Part of him wants to return to flying as soon as possible. Another part of him is freaking out that the accident was his fault, and if you put him in the cockpit again…”

  Some sentences didn’t need to be completed.

  “That’s a damn heavy load to be carrying.” David clapped Smooth on the shoulder as he left.

  They needed to get this trial behind them for a lot of reasons. Where the hell was the evidence to clear Caleb Tate?

  For the first time since he’d walked into that courtroom two days ago, his world steadied and he knew exactly what should happen. Rather than working against each other, he needed to work with Sophie Campbell. Starting at the close of business today, he had a whole weekend to work on finding those answers once and for all.

  * * *

  Slider was pissed.

  The break-in at Sophie Campbell’s didn’t seem to have rattled her in the least. Even though she had to have been up all night, she’d been steadier than ever in court today. Crisp. Driven.

  Sexy.

  He wove through the cars in the parking lot, searching for hers. He just wished he could have been there to see her face when she realized someone broke into her house while her son was there. He’d paid a Vegas street junkie a couple hundred bucks to break in. The edge of how badly that could have gone for Sophie and her family added a bigger jolt than if he’d been the one jimmying the door. Besides, he had to be certain he was not anywhere near the house when the B and E occurred.

  Clearly, he would have to keep the heat coming.

  Checking around the lot, he saw plenty of foot traffic, so no one would think anything of him being here. But no sign of Sophie coming out yet. Kneeling next to her sedan, he let air out of her tire with a slow hiss. Not enough air for her to notice, but enough for the tire to blow out on her half-hour trip home. Sometimes the simple tricks worked better than the fanciest technology.

  And if she actually died in the accident?

  Then the trial would have to start over, and he would have the time he needed to redirect the fallout from that accident. To be sure that when they pinned blame, there would be no questions. No trial.

  Game over.

  * * *

  TGIF didn’t even come close to describing how relieved Sophie was to see the end of this day. Stepping outside of the building that housed the military proceedings, she put her hat on, squinting against the sun.

  Aside from being exhausted from no sleep, thanks to the break-in, she’d found today’s court experience had been especially draining. The little boy injured in the accident had been in the gallery with his parents and, God, but it broke her heart in half every time she turned around and saw them. The Vasquez family had stayed away for the most part, not wanting to further traumatize their son, and she could understand that. But all the players also needed to stay focused on how damn important this case was.

  She stepped back for the Vasquezes to come through so they could speak outside, away from the packed halls and stuffy formality. Only six years old, Ricky struggled to handle the crutches, but he didn’t give up. His shattered leg was in a cast. The uneven thump as he made his way outside broke her heart all over again.

  He still faced two more surgeries. Doctors weren’t sure if he would walk without a limp, or if he would be able to run, to play sports.

  His parents stood on either side of him, Ricky’s father speaking up first. “Major Campbell, we cannot thank you enough for all you are doing to get justice for Ricky.”

  “It’s my job, Dr. Vasquez.” Although doing her job would clear the way for more lawsuits. If only people did the right thing without being forced by the justice system.

  Ricky’s father was a music professor at a local university. His wife had taught in the same department but quit her job to be with her son through his rehab from the injury. They were struggling to make ends meet with their income cut in half and their child facing so many operations.

  Mrs. Vasquez squeezed Sophie’s arm. “Your job did not include you coming to our house a half dozen times so Ricky wouldn’t have to answer deposition questions in a frightening office setting.”

  “Whatever I can do to make this easier for you. We all just want answers.”

  “Mrs. Campbell?” Ricky tugged the edge of her service blues jacket.

  His mother put a hand on his shoulder. “Sweetie, her name is Major Campbell.”

  “It’s okay.” She knelt in front of him. “You can call me Sophie.”

  His wide, dark eyes stared back at her earnestly. “I drew you a picture, Major Sophie.”

  “Thank you, Ricky.” She took the paper from his tiny hand. “I’ll put it on the refrigerator at my house, right next to a picture my son drew for me in art class.”

  She looked down at the crayon drawing—and struggled not to gasp. It wasn’t just some childish scribble of a playground or dinosaurs like her son would have made at the same age. Ricky had depicted his house with an airplane overhead and a large flash of light exploding outside his window. A fierce determination scoured through her. She would make sure this little boy got justice.

  “Thank you,” she repeated, sliding the picture carefully into her briefcase. She patted his face gently, then stood, shaking hands with his parents. She watched them walk away, her mind racing with thoughts, even though her exhausted body shouted for her to call an end to this day.

  “Sophie?”

  David’s voice reached through her fog and jolted her.

  Stirred her.

  She pivoted on her heel sharply and found him standing a few feet to the side, looking tall and invincible in his flight suit.

  “David? Were you in court today?” Certainly she would have seen him.

  “No, I’ve been out here waiting for you.” He rocked back on his green flight boots.

  A warm whisper of awareness rippled through her veins. “For me?”

  “We need to talk about the case.”

  His words cooled the heat in a flash. “Why would you think that?�
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  “Rather than working against each other, we should work together.”

  “Do you really believe you can persuade me that your guy’s not responsible?”

  “All I care about is finding the cause. Period. So no more kids like that,” he pointed to Ricky Vasquez being helped into the car by his parents, “get injured. All that matters is knowing what caused that accident. Isn’t that what you want? The truth?”

  Temper heated the ice inside her right up again. “Oh, right, I just need to want the truth. Why didn’t I think of that before?”

  “Funny. I get your point.” He canted closer. “But you haven’t heard mine. We need to look at the evidence together rather than just interrogating each other.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “Are you trying to wrangle information out of me for your friend?”

  He cupped her shoulder. “Sophie, I’m trying to find out what happened so it doesn’t happen again. That’s what a test program is for. If that means Caleb’s guilty of negligence on the job, then that’s something he and I both will have to learn to live with.”

  “And can you accept that?”

  “We protect innocents. Now let’s do our jobs.” He squeezed her shoulder once, lingered, then let his arm fall away.

  She couldn’t miss the intensity, the sincerity in his eyes. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

  “Complete immersion in the data. What those in the business world would call a ‘deep dive.’ Let’s put our heads together and pore over all the information. One of the most important things I’ve learned in the test world? Brainstorming with different people, in different combinations, can bring new answers.”

  Working together? She considered the ethics of that and quickly dismissed any problems. Anything she would share with him had already been seen by Caleb’s defense in the interest of disclosure. And David might have new insights to shed on data she might not have fully comprehended.

  His idea had merit, although she wasn’t so sure what they would uncover at this late date. She shifted her briefcase more securely in her hand. “Let’s make an appointment for Monday.”

  “Why wait? We have all weekend long to work together.”

  All weekend long? With David? “What exactly do you mean?”

  “I’ll come over to your place. The kids can play together while we work. I’ll even spring for pizza so no one has to cook.”

  “I thought you were worried about the kids playing together?”

  “Maybe I spoke too quickly. Playing with your kid may be helping her get past missing Hunter.” He clasped her elbow and guided her toward her car as if it was a done deal. “What is there to argue with? Everyone’s happy.”

  Happy? She wasn’t sure about that. But she couldn’t argue with his logic. Her case was teetering right now, with a verdict that could go either way without any real sense of certainty, of closure. They needed to uncover the truth.

  And she couldn’t delude herself into ignoring the flutter of excitement in her stomach at the prospect of spending more time with David.

  * * *

  David followed Sophie’s gold sedan, weaving through the Friday rush-hour traffic. Would their weekend together actually bring him the answers he needed? And would those answers convict Caleb? Or implicate someone else?

  He only knew that seeing Ricky Vasquez had swept away any reservations. This had to be done. It was the right thing, the only option left.

  And it wasn’t like he could act on the rogue attraction to Sophie anyway, not with two children and her grandmother underfoot. They would work all weekend long. Period. End of sentence. No more getting worked up over the scent of jasmine. For God’s sake, he wasn’t some out-of-control teen.

  He clicked on his turn signal and changed lanes. Billboards littered the roadside with everything from casinos to alien Area 51 propaganda. Flying test missions in this area was actually easy with so many wack jobs eager to write off anything out of the ordinary as an outer space phenomenon.

  If only he could write off Caleb’s flight catastrophe to little green men.

  Hauling his focus back to the present problem—a blond bombshell lawyer who drove like they were on the lawless roads of Iraq. He pinned his eyes on her car and stayed close to her bumper. Easier said than done between rush-hour traffic and tourists driving haphazardly. Even Sophie seemed to be weaving in her lane as she powered down the road. Was she still suffering ill effects from the bump on the head? She’d definitely missed most of last night’s sleep.

  Damn it, he should have insisted on driving her again. They were still fifteen minutes from home. He considered calling her cell…but that would be more likely to distract her.

  The stoplight turned red just as Sophie cleared the intersection. Shit. He hit the brakes and watched her surge forward.

  And swerve sharply.

  Her back tire blew out, sending her fishtailing into oncoming traffic.

  SIX

  Sophie snapped back in her seat, her vision full of air bag blossoming in front of her. Her car pinwheeled, then slammed into another car with the sickening crunch of metal on metal. Pain exploded through her hard and fast.

  And then everything went still.

  “Sophie,” David’s voice shouted from outside her car, on the passenger side. “Are you okay? Speak to me, damn it.”

  “In here. I’m all right.” Sore, but everything moved and nothing was trapped. She pushed on her door, except it was bent inward and didn’t budge. “I can’t climb out.”

  “Hang tough. I’m coming in.”

  Smoke tinged the air. Panic stirred. “Is the car on fire? Is anyone hurt?”

  “You’re going to be fine, and as far as I can tell, everyone’s stepping from their vehicles unharmed.” His steady voice came through over the creaks and thumps on the passenger door.

  She noticed he didn’t say the car wasn’t burning. What if he was injured pulling her from her crushed car?

  Bile stung her throat. She shifted to kick through the passenger air bag to the door, to help, to do something other than be helpless.

  The door groaned open. David filled the open space and she stopped short of kicking him. His arms thrust inside and he grabbed around her waist, hauling. A part of her brain registered it had to be bad if he wasn’t taking his time. Her heart in her throat, she angled over and gripped his shoulders. In a bumpy, painful drag, she was up and out of the car.

  Cradled against David’s chest. She gave herself three seconds to sigh in relief before she looked over his shoulder.

  Oh God.

  The wreck was worse than she thought. A trio of mangled cars wrapped around one another like a bad game of Twister. Smoke poured from the hoods of all three. Cars were parked willy-nilly on the highway with people talking on cell phones and helping the others in the accident. A teenage girl stumbled from one car, cradling her arm. An elderly couple walked away from the other car, seemingly unharmed, but the chaos in front of her still scared her.

  She’d caused this. She didn’t know how she’d lost control of her car, but there was no denying her memory. She’d been at fault.

  Her breath hitched.

  David looked down at her, concern in his deep blue eyes. “Did I hurt you? Do you think you can stand?”

  “I can stand.” Her teeth chattered. “I’m totally fine.”

  “You look it,” he said wryly, setting her on her feet by his Scout parked on the side of the road.

  “You’re a crappy liar.” She held on to his hands to make sure she didn’t stumble, the world still spinning.

  “That was sarcasm.” He stared into her eyes and checked the back of her head. “As soon as the police finish filling out their report, we’re going to the ER.”

  Not again. She’d had enough of hospitals to last a lifetime—when her father died, then her husband. “I just want to finish here and go home.” She turned back toward the car. “I should get my purse and my briefcase. They’ll need my insurance information.
And I don’t want to lose the picture Ricky drew for me.”

  “I’ll make sure they get them out before they tow the car.”

  “Provided it doesn’t blow up, you mean.”

  He cradled her face in his broad hands. “I’m just glad you’re okay, and I intend to make sure you stay that way. Your head has been bashed around twice now. We’re not taking chances. Once the tow truck arrives, we’re leaving for the hospital, and then you’re coming home with me.”

  “We are going to the hospital? We are going home together?” Where the hell had he gotten that idea? She grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away before she did something silly—like lean into him. “What makes you think you get to make these kinds of decisions for me?”

  “And what makes you believe you’re thinking clearly now? You’ve had a break-in and a car accident in two days.”

  “So I’m having a really crappy run of luck. I’ll lock my doors better and take a cab to work.” She bit her lips to keep from losing her cool. What was it about this man that got under her skin? “Thank you for your concern. But I’ll be fine.”

  “Odds are, you’re right and I’m worrying for nothing.” He stepped closer, crowding her and heating her at the same time. “But are you willing to put your son and grandmother at risk based on odds?”

  Her head snapped back. “You really know how to go for the jugular, Major.”

  “Maybe I should have been a lawyer, too.”

  And still his argument took root. Fear pushed through the numbed feeling she’d had since the accident. Her mind and her senses turned sharper. The scent of smoke on the air, the wail of sirens in the distance, all reminded her of how fragile life could be.

  She couldn’t afford to take chances, her son couldn’t afford for her to take the risk. “Fine, you win.”

  Nodding tightly, he opened the passenger door on his Scout. “Wanna sit down before you fall down? You can chew me out all you want on the way to the emergency room.”

  * * *

  “Thanks for letting us descend on you like this, Madison.” Sophie dropped her son’s overnight bag on the double bed four hours after the car accident. “Hopefully my security system will be in place by Monday and I won’t have to impose long.”