“Freeze!” a man shouted from somewhere beyond the patio “This is the La Jolla Police Department. Drop the weapon and get on the ground! Now!”
Kyla blinked. How was she supposed to freeze and get on the ground at the same time? Not that it mattered one way or the other since Wes still had an arm around her waist and didn’t seem interested in letting her go.
“There’s a sniper in the woods,” Wes shouted back.
Unfortunately, the police didn’t seem to believe that.
“Last chance,” the cop warned. “Let the woman go and drop the weapon now or we will shoot you!”
As he spoke, several red laser lines pointed their way, resting dead center on Wes’s chest.
Kyla tensed, ready to beg Wes to do what the cops were telling him, but her pleas weren’t necessary. Taking his arm from around her, Wes carefully placed the pistol on the patio and kicked it aside, then lay facedown on the ground. Kyla was about to join him, but all at once, there was a police officer at her side, whisking her away as another cop moved over to check on Nesbitt. Shaking her head, the cop stood and aimed her gun at Wes as two other officers put cuffs on him.
She expected Wes to tell them that he wasn’t the one who shot Nesbitt, but instead he kept saying she wasn’t involved in any of this, that he’d brought the gun and made her come to Nesbitt’s with him.
As the cops yanked him to his feet, Kyla opened her mouth to say that wasn’t true, that the gun was hers, but he pinned her with a look, his gaze telling her without a single word that she needed to stay quiet. And even though that made her feel like absolute crap, that was exactly what she did as two cops led Wes to a patrol car while another asked if she was okay.
CHAPTER THREE
ALL RIGHT, MARSHALL, let’s go. Someone paid your bail.”
Wes jerked awake at the sound of his name. He lifted his head from the wall he’d been resting it against, groaning as he attempted to work out the kink he’d gotten from trying to sleep sitting up on the hard concrete bench attached to the wall of the tiny holding cell.
“You coming, Marshall?” Outside the cell, the uniformed officer gave him an impatient look. “Unless this is your way of saying you’ll like to spend more time with us.”
Wes didn’t reply as he got to his feet. Damn, he was sore and stiff all over. He was starting to rethink that low rating he’d been planning to post on Yelp for the Air Force and their cargo planes. Compared to the San Diego County Detention Facilities, that pallet of mail was looking damn fine about now.
As a Navy SEAL he’d never been one to take freedom for granted because he knew what it cost to keep it, but he couldn’t even begin to describe how good it felt to walk out of that cell. That said, he’d gladly spend years in there if it meant keeping Kyla out of prison.
After locking the door of the cell, the cop led Wes along the stark gray corridor with its many holding areas similar to the one he’d been in. They’d taken his watch when they booked him in the hours right before dawn, and with no windows in this part of the detention area, it was impossible to know what time it was, but it had to be close to noon.
There was a lot of paperwork to fill out, initial, and sign in order to get his personal possessions back, including his belt and shoes laces. As he scanned through the paperwork, he looked for some indication of who’d bailed him out, but there was nothing on it. He still wasn’t sure why he’d used his one call to let Owen know where he was and what was going on instead of telling any of his teammates. Maybe because some part of him hoped the cops would simply release him and his boss would never have to know. But after his bail hearing that morning, no way was that happening now.
Which was why it wasn’t a surprise to see his team leader, Chief Petty Officer Chasen Ward, and Commander Mack Hunt, the man in charge of SEAL Team 5, waiting for him in the lobby. Crap, they looked pissed.
“Commander. Chief.” Wes gave Hunt a nod, then looked at Chasen. “I can explain—”
Hunt scowled. Tall with wide shoulders, his jet-black hair had a slight touch of gray at the temples. “Damn right you will.”
The drive to NAS Coronado in Chasen’s pickup was uncomfortable to say the least, mostly because they spent the first few miles in complete silence. Wes was wondering if he should launch into his explanation or wait until Hunt started asking questions, but he couldn’t do either until he knew Kyla wasn’t in jail.
“The cops didn’t arrest Kyla, too, did they, Chief?” he asked.
“No,” was Chasen’s curt reply.
Wes let out a sigh of relief. He’d been fairly certain the cops would let her go, but it was still good to hear.
“What the hell happened last night, Marshall?” Hunt demanded from the front passenger seat. “And no bullshitting. I need to know exactly what you told the police.”
Chasen caught Wes’s eye in the rearview mirror, giving him a nod. Not sure how much Hunt already knew, Wes decided to start from the beginning, giving the commander the background on Kyla, her father’s death, and the role Nesbitt played in it. Then he got into the details of what happened yesterday, from Nesbitt getting released to how distraught Kyla had been, and finally Owen and Andrew calling to say she was probably going after the former councilman.
Hunt half turned in the seat to frown at him. “You never thought of calling the police and letting them know Kyla was heading for Nesbitt’s place so they could have stopped her before things got out of hand?”
“I didn’t want the cops involved,” Wes said quietly. “She’s had things hard enough lately as it is.”
Hunt regarded him thoughtfully, eyes sharp. “Is there something going on between you and this girl?”
“No.” Wes did his best to answer as casually as he could. “We’re just friends.”
Hunt snorted. “Yeah, right. Okay, so what happened when you got to Nesbitt’s house?”
Wes told them about getting to Kyla’s side in time to stop her from shooting Nesbitt, and how the man had implicated Stavros and agreed to testify against him.
“A minute later, a sniper put a round through Nesbitt’s forehead,” Wes added. “I returned fire with the 9mm handgun Kyla brought with her, but at that range in the dark, it wasn’t very effective. The next thing I know, the cops showed up.”
Hunt’s mouth was tight. “And you told them the gun was yours.”
“Yeah.” Wes shrugged. “I didn’t want Kyla to get jammed up over this. She’s still in college and if she got arrested, it could mean the end of her financial aid. She might even have gotten tossed out of school.”
“And you naturally thought it would be better for you—a Navy SEAL with a Top Secret security clearance and responsibilities out the ass—to take the heat for a woman who you claim is merely a friend?”
Wes nodded, figuring saying anything else would probably on get him in more hot water.
Up front, Hunt cursed. “You recognize how bad this looks for the SEALs, right? First, there was a rumor some of my team helped take down Nesbitt in the first place. And now, the moment he gets out of jail, you’re there when he’s mysteriously murdered. The media is going to have a field day with this.”