“Relax,” Sylvia said, settling into the chair by the sofa, resting her iPad on her knees.

“Easy for you to say.” Rachel clasped the soda can between her palms. “No one tried to blow up your home today or run you off the road.”

Poison one of her dogs.

Threaten her on the phone.

But hey, one thing at a time. No need to sound like a paranoid lunatic straight out of the gate.

“You’re right. My day was quite mundane until now.” She smiled again, pearly teeth flashing as the chilly gust of the air conditioner wafted around more of her subtle signature scent.

Sylvia smelled like expensive perfume and Rachel smelled of Liam’s soap. And Liam had appreciated her just fine when she’d been covered in grime, working an earthquake rescue. He didn’t need glam. She grinned inside.

Then remembered why she was here in the first place. “What happened to my condo?”

“The police are still investigating. But from what my people hear, it appears to be a kitchen fire that spread… quickly.” She assessed her with icy-sharp blue eyes. “Now let’s talk about what’s been going on for the past few weeks.”

“Talk?” Like chitchat over tea and finger sandwiches? While she trusted Liam, she didn’t know this person, and clearly things on this base weren’t as secure as they should be. “I’m not sure where to begin.”

“Wherever you wish. I’m here to listen and do what I can to sort through everything. I can also provide protection if need be. This is a win-win situation… as long as you tell me the truth.”

“This just seems so informal.” Rachel lifted the Coke, shifting on the sofa.

“I can assure you, I’m taking this very seriously.” Sylvia tapped her iPad. “Our session is being taped, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Ah, so you just officially informed me.”

“That I did.”

Rachel cocked her head to the side, starting to feel more than a little claustrophobic. “Should I have a lawyer?”

“This isn’t a civilian police setting.” Sylvia placed her iPad on the side table. “I have no jurisdiction over you. And nobody’s read you your rights. I understood from Liam—Major McCabe—that you want my help.”

“Of course I do. I’m sorry for acting paranoid. This has just been an insane couple of weeks where I’ve been let down by law enforcement. So forgive me if I’m overly cautious.” She rested a hand on her dog’s head, grateful they’d let her keep Disco with her. “Have you been able to track Brandon down yet? I’m worried about him.”

“As well you should be, and we’ve got people searching now.” She scooped up her iPad and, glancing down, tapped along the touch screen. “Let’s just review everything again, in your own words rather than via Major McCabe. It’s surprising what different people will pick up on or things that will come to mind for you because I ask a certain question.”

“Ask away, then.”

Sylvia tipped up her iPad, shifting her full attention back to Rachel. Not that she’d ever actually taken it off her. “Let’s start with this surveillance video of you breaking into Major McCabe’s Jeep.”

***

Liam leaned against the wall across from the observation glass, wishing he could listen in as well, but Captain Bernard had already gone above and beyond in letting him stay to watch. The guy was a butt-kisser to anyone who outranked him. Usually that grated on Liam’s every last nerve, but right now? He wasn’t sure he could have let Rachel out of his sight completely. While he trusted Sylvia, the rest of the world was still suspect. Until they had some answers, he preferred to keep Rachel front and center.

Although she seemed to be holding her own—staying alert and apparently not fooled one bit by Sylvia Cramer’s attempt to put her at ease and catch her off guard. Liam had watched his old friend often enough to know she was just giving Rachel a chance to calm down, to feel secure, and then she would attempt to rattle her story.

Or at the very least, shake new information free.

So he kept his eyes glued to the two women, unable to stop himself from comparing them. Sylvia—a sleek, sexy redhead he’d dated who should have been perfect for him. She was totally married to her job as a civilian employee with the OSI. She understood his lifestyle, the secrets, the long separations. She had the same in her job. They’d been a perfect—cool, chilly—match.

Zip for chemistry.

And then there was Rachel, with her uncontrollably wavy hair as wild as the way she attacked life. Even when it zapped her to the core, as the earthquake SAR in the Bahamas had. Rachel threw herself right into the fire all over again here, helping veterans wounded in such a deep way, it couldn’t possibly help but slice into her as well.

She was anything but calm. Anything but cool. And completely, sensually alive.

A hiss from behind him snapped him around quickly. Captain Bernard tensed, his hand slipping to his weapon strapped in an arm holster. A cipher-locked door opened—and two of his teammates stepped through.

Wade Rocha and Jose James filled the small observation room, both in uniform, but Rocha barely had the sleep wiped from his eyes, a mug of coffee in one hand and a candy bar in the other. The captain relaxed, his ever-ready smile sliding back into place.

Damn, but this long day was stretching into a long night.

Wade shot a quick assessing look at Bernard.

Liam smiled. “He’s my baby-sitter, guard, handler.” Also known to be a suck-up, but that was probably best left unsaid. “Take your pick.”

Bernard just grinned.

Wade pressed deeper into the room. “Good evening, Captain Bernard. I saw the base commander out in the hall, and I could have sworn she was looking for you.”

Bernard stood taller. “Really?”

“Yeah, Colonel Zogby’s just out there. If you hurry you can catch her. We’ll be right here while you speak with her. Can’t leave without going past you.”

“Right,” Bernard said. “Thanks.”

The captain rushed out the door, obviously eager for face time with a colonel.

Laughing softly, Wade pressed deeper into the room and clapped Liam on the shoulder. “What happened out there on the road tonight?”

“How did you know to find me here?” So much for security.

“We were called in by someone from the OSI. They didn’t say why, other than that you’d been in an accident.”

Jose stepped alongside them, an unregulation marathon T-shirt just visible through the open neck of his camos. “Major, saw your Jeep in the parking lot and it looks like shit.”

Liam winced. “I know.”

“I mean really shitty,” Jose said, whistling softly. “Totaled-and-headed-to-the-junkyard shitty.”

“Thanks. Wanna pour salt in the wound while you’re at it?”

Jose pulled his hand out of his pocket. “I thought you might want these before they tow it away.”

His fist opened to reveal the three garters that had hung from Liam’s rearview mirror.

“Not funny today.” Liam smiled tightly. “But thanks anyway.”

“Just worried about you, old man.” Jose stuffed the garters back in his pocket.

“Sorry for snapping at you. Having someone try to run you off the road has left me a little on edge.” He backed toward the one-way mirror, grateful they’d both walked away unharmed.

Wade stepped closer. “Are you okay?”

His swim buddy looked straight into his eyes, no doubt checking pupils to make sure they were equal, which is exactly what Liam would have done. That medic training came in handy.

“I’m good.” Liam brushed aside the concern. “Really. The Jeep did its job keeping us safe.”

“Us?” Jose’s eyebrows shot up. His eyes went to the one-way mirror framing Rachel seated across from Sylvia. “Hey now, wasn’t she with one of the search and rescue canine units back in the Bahamas?”

Liam nodded, the heat, the dust, the intensity of that time rolling over him again. “Great memory you’ve got there, Cuervo.”

“Memorable mission.” Rocha nodded. “You kept in touch with her all this time and didn’t mention it? I do believe my feelings are hurt.”

Before Liam could answer, Jose continued, “But your Jeep. How did you even drive it the rest of the way here after you got hit?”

As they tag-teamed him with questions, he just let it keep rolling. It was easier than answering, and it left him free to study Rachel and try to figure out why his teammates had been called in as well. “Guess it’s time to buy a new car.”

Rocha dipped his head closer. “Really, dude, what’s going on here?”

Was it even possible to whisper softly enough not to be heard in this place? Not really. And not that it should matter. Why was he suddenly second-guessing his decision to contact the OSI?

Since he’d found out the car chasing them was Rachel’s. Something he hadn’t discovered until after he placed the call to Sylvia. Whoever had accessed that vehicle had an in on base. Security was tight at the gates and a pass was needed to get through. It wasn’t as if just anybody could have picked up her SUV.

Although he still would have ended up here, even if they hadn’t been attacked. He just needed to be even more on guard since somehow, someone on base had been involved in the attack.

Monitoring the two women through the glass, he chose his words for his friends carefully. “Rachel’s had some trouble with a stalker.” Even thinking about those threats to her had his hands fisting at his sides. “She contacted me today for help, and the next thing we knew, someone tried to run us off the road.”

Wade nodded slowly. “Okay, fine, so why come here instead of going to the police?”

“There’s a military friend of hers involved, and the civilian cops haven’t been much help to Rachel so far.”

Jose scratched his buzz cut. “And why bring her to one of your ex-girlfriends for questioning? An especially hot ex-girlfriend, I might add.”

“Sylvia and I had an amicable parting of the ways. It was never serious.” And by now he was a frickin’ pro at how to handle a breakup.

Time to change the subject until he had a better handle on what the hell was going on.

His attention shifted back to Rachel. Her back stiff, her hand resting on her dog’s head, she looked strong and wary.

But alive. And he intended to do whatever it took to keep her that way.

***

If he had his way, they would all be dead before sunrise. But that wasn’t a wise strategy. And above all, he was a man who planned his next battle move very carefully.

Pitching a paperweight from hand to hand without so much as a glance, he studied the row of computer screens hooked to surveillance in the OSI building. This wasn’t his office, but no one would question his being here. He had access anywhere he wanted on this base.

Headphones in place, he listened to the interrogation in progress between Special Agent Sylvia Cramer and Rachel Flores. While on another screen he watched the video footage of the Flores chick breaking into McCabe’s Jeep earlier. When that tape had come to his attention, he’d backtracked through video feed until he saw her ditch her car. His people were supposed to have handled the whole situation, damn it.

How had such a well-planned operation become a cluster f**k so quickly because of one little lieutenant who barely had his head on straight?

Discrediting Brandon Harris’s claims had been easy enough at first. Although who could have predicted Harris would find such a persistent champion in a lady dog trainer? A lady dog trainer who apparently had some connections. But he refused to let them or anyone else stop him.

His own connections were far more extensive, and he wouldn’t hesitate to use them. He just needed to find more competent resources than the idiots he’d sent to torch Rachel’s apartment. They’d gone rogue in trying to run McCabe’s Jeep off the road and into the ocean. A staged accident was one thing. But gunfire in the middle of traffic, for God’s sake? All mistakes they would pay for. People only acted under his orders. Going rogue was not acceptable.