Fleet Hospital. Anne Duquette Marie

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СКАЧАТЬ on,” he said. “Someone get her some water.”

      Michael sat her down and pushed her head between her knees. “Breathe deeply.”

      She breathed. Someone approached with bottled water, the lid already removed. Michael shoved it into Jo’s hand.

      “Here, drink this,” he ordered. Michael waited until she’d finished the water, and the color was back in her face. “Feeling better? I imagine you’re not used to taking the kind of photos we’ve requested from you.” Unless the fainting is an act to avoid answering my questions.

      “It’s not that. Being cross-examined in this heat’s what did it. I hate the heat.”

      “Really?” Surprise distracted him from suspicion. “Everyone loves sunny California.”

      “Not me. All I do is sweat. Plus…today…well, never mind about today. This whole place is one oven, isn’t it? How can you stand it?”

      “I don’t care for the sunbelt myself.”

      “That makes two of us.” Jo sat up and pushed her hair away from her face. “To answer your questions—yes, I’m feeling better. Yes, my equipment is from a pawnshop. No, I’ve never worked for AP before. And even though you haven’t asked me yet, no, I did not kill your cousin. Though I’d like to get my hands on whoever did.”

      Michael gestured for another bottle of water and again handed it to Jo, pleased that she’d answered his questions, after all. “You understand you’re a suspect in this murder?”

      “I know.” She met his gaze straight on, again confirming Michael’s gut instinct that she wasn’t a killer. “What can I do to prove I’m innocent?”

      “I’ll take you to Puripong. Give her your film, then answer her questions.”

      “Sure.” Jo started to stand, but Michael shook his head. “Sit down. Not just yet. Are you okay with all this?”

      “What do you mean?”

      “Everyone here is a trained member of the Navy, and most are in the medical profession. They know how to take care of themselves in extreme conditions.”

      “Oh.” A smile brightened her face. “You mean you’re worried about me? Even though I’m a suspect?” Her hand reached out and covered his—an action that shocked him because he found it comforting.

      “I’m a survivor. I grew up in the old housing projects of East St. Louis with drug dealers, pimps, hookers and gangs. I didn’t like it, but I dealt with it until I got out of there. Same with this. I don’t go to pieces—ever—until it’s safe to do so. You’re the one I’m worried about.”

      Her hand remained on his. Michael let it stay there only a few seconds more before he remembered he was in uniform, and in command, no less. Shows of affection were not allowed in uniform. He withdrew his hand.

      “This has to be hard for you,” she said.

      He nodded. “It’ll be worse if we don’t find her killer.”

      “Why don’t you let the chaplain help?”

      “No.”

      Jo’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t like him? Yet you listened to him when he told you about my pawned equipment—I overheard your conversation. Who is he?”

      She’s got brains. And a streetwise toughness I might need. Not to mention a very nice body… It was the first time he’d really noticed.

      “Our parents were stationed together in Pearl once. We never got along.”

      “No, it’s more than that. You’re enemies—or, at least, he’s your enemy. Why?” she asked bluntly.

      She’s a little too streetwise for my liking. I’ve never talked about Klemko to anyone—until now.

      “Let’s just say he’s a childhood ghost.”

      “Yeah, well, I don’t like him, either.”

      “Why not?”

      “I flirted with him a bit and he treated me like an Old Testament whore. I shouldn’t have, of course—flirted—but it’s not like I was serious.”

      “Then why do it?” Michael asked.

      “I wanted an interview. I wanted a big story for AP. I wanted everything except a murder. You know, you should have family here with you. Isn’t there anyone you can call?”

      “I already have,” Michael said, conscious of the personnel watching his every move. “Let’s go. Puripong’s waiting. Grab another water on the way. Keep yourself hydrated.”

      “I will.” She grabbed two and passed one to Michael.

      “So, you still feel that way?” he asked.

      “What—faint? Nah, I’m okay.”

      “Good, but I meant romantically interested in the chaplain.”

      “Never was! He’s not my type. I was just trying to be cute.”

      “Don’t. There’s no place for it in a murder investigation.”

      “I know. Besides, any flirting notions I might’ve had ended when I saw your cousin.” She uttered a harsh, vulgar oath directed at the killer.

      Somehow, her foul language made him feel better. It was exactly what he wanted to say himself, except he couldn’t—not while in uniform.

      That would be a Bad Thing.

      “Huh? You say something?”

      Michael shook his head. I’m losing it. I’ve got to go tell Sunshine. But then I’ll be back…and I’ll find Selena’s killer.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      Patrick and Sunshine’s home, San Diego

       Day 2, 8:00 a.m.

      THE SMELL OF THE BEACH and frying sausage—tofu sausage, she later discovered—met Jo as she stepped into the breakfast nook. Michael had refused any escorts last night when leaving Camp Pendleton, but he couldn’t order Jo around. Nor did he wish to forbid her presence. When she’d climbed into his car with him, he’d found her company more than soothing. He’d found it a necessity. Delayed reaction had hit him in the parking lot and he couldn’t insert the shaking key in the ignition slot; Jo had silently traded places with him and driven him home.

      All other personnel were to complete the exercise as originally ordered—in the isolation of the camp. Jo had been allowed to exit the compound after turning all her film over to Puripong. Jo’s night in the tastefully furnished guest room and lush bed hadn’t been restful. She’d had nightmares, but not about death. She’d seen her first overdosed druggie at age five in an alley, and her first gunshot victim at age six, right in her own schoolyard.

      No, her nightmares had been СКАЧАТЬ