Tall, Dark and Deadly: Get Lucky. Suzanne Brockmann

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СКАЧАТЬ she thought the braids on his sleeves meant he was some sort of officer.

      The living Ken—with all of his U.S. Navy accessories—somehow managed to squeeze his extremely broad shoulders through the door. He stepped into the room. “Lieutenant Commander Francisco asked me to convey his regrets.” His voice was a melodic baritone, slightly husky with just a trace of Southern California, dude. “There’s been a serious training accident on the base, and he was unable to leave.”

      San Felipe Detective Lucy McCoy leaned forward. “Is everyone all right?”

      “Hey, Lucy.” He bestowed a brief but special smile upon the female detective. It didn’t surprise Syd one bit that he should know the pretty brunette by name. “We got a SEAL candidate in a DDC—a deck decompression chamber. Frisco—Lieutenant Commander Francisco—had to fly out to the site with some of the doctors from the naval hospital. It was a routine dive, everything was done completely by the book—until one of the candidates started showing symptoms of the bends—while he was in the water. They still don’t know what the hell went wrong. Bobby got him out and back on board, and popped him in the DDC, but from his description, it sounds like this guy’s already had a CNS hit—a central nervous system hit,” he translated. “You know, when a nitrogen bubble expands in the brain.” He shook his head, his blue eyes somber, his pretty mouth grim. “Even if this man survives, he could be seriously brain damaged.”

      U.S. Navy Ken sat down in the only unoccupied chair at the table, directly across from Sydney, as he glanced around the room. “I’m sure you all understand Lieutenant Commander Francisco’s need to look into this situation immediately.”

      Syd tried not to stare, but it was hard. At three feet away, she should have been able to see this man’s imperfections—if not quite a wart, then maybe a chipped tooth. Some nose hair at least.

      But at three feet away, he was even more gorgeous. And he smelled good, too.

      Chief Zale gave him a baleful look. “And you are…?”

      Navy Ken half stood up again. “I’m sorry. Of course, I should have introduced myself.” His smile was sheepish. Gosh darn it, it said, I plumb forgot that not everybody here knows who I am, wonderful though I may be. “Lieutenant Luke O’Donlon, of the U.S. Navy SEALs.”

      Syd didn’t have to be an expert at reading body language to know that everyone in the room—at least everyone male—hated the Navy. And if they hadn’t before, they sure did now. The jealousy in the room was practically palpable. Lieutenant Luke O’Donlon gleamed. He shone. He was all white and gold and sunlight and sky-blue eyes.

      He was a god. The mighty king of all Ken dolls.

      And he knew it.

      His glance touched Syd only briefly as he looked around the room, taking inventory of the police and FInCOM personnel. But as Zale’s assistant passed out manila files, Navy Ken’s gaze settled back on Syd. He smiled, and it was such a perfect, slightly puzzled smile, Syd nearly laughed aloud. Any second now and he was going to ask her who she was.

      “Are you FInCOM?” he mouthed to her, taking the file that was passed to him and warmly nodding his thanks to the Coronado detective who was sitting beside him.

      Syd shook her head, no.

      “From the Coronado PD?” he asked silently.

      Zale had begun to speak, and Syd shook her head again, then pointedly turned her attention to the head of the table.

      The San Felipe police chief spoke at length about stepping up patrol cars in the areas where the rapes had taken place. He spoke of a team that would be working around the clock, attempting to find a pattern in the locations of the attacks, or among the seven victims. He talked about semen samples and DNA. He glared at Syd as he spoke of the need to keep the details of the crimes, of the rapist’s MO—method of operation—from leaking to the public. He brought up the nasty little matter of the SEAL pin, heated by the flame from a cigarette lighter and used to burn a mark onto the bodies of the last two victims.

      Navy Ken cleared his throat and interrupted. “I’m sure it’s occurred to you that if this guy were a SEAL, he’d have to be pretty stupid to advertise it this way. Isn’t it much more likely that he’s trying to make you believe he’s a SEAL?”

      “Absolutely,” Zale responded. “Which is why we implied that we thought he was a SEAL in the article that came out in this morning’s paper. We want him to think he’s winning, to become careless.”

      “So you don’t think he’s a SEAL,” the SEAL tried to clarify.

      “Maybe,” Syd volunteered, “he’s a SEAL who wants to be caught.”

      Navy Ken’s eyes narrowed slightly as he gazed at her, clearly thinking hard. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know just about everyone else here, but we haven’t been introduced. Are you a police psychologist?”

      Zale didn’t let Syd reply. “Ms. Jameson is going to be working very closely with you, Lieutenant.”

      Ms. not Doctor. Syd saw that information register in the SEAL’s eyes.

      But then she realized what Zale had said and sat back in her chair. “I am?”

      O’Donlon leaned forward. “Excuse me?”

      Zale looked a little too pleased with himself. “Lieutenant Commander Francisco put in an official request to have a SEAL team be part of this task force. Detective McCoy convinced me that it might be a good idea. If our man is or was a SEAL, you may have better luck finding him.”

      “I assure you, luck won’t be part of it, sir.”

      Syd couldn’t believe O’Donlon’s audacity. The amazing part was that he spoke with such conviction. He actually believed himself.

      “That remains to be seen,” Zale countered. “I’ve decided to give you permission to form this team, provided you keep Detective McCoy informed of your whereabouts and progress.”

      “I can manage that.” O’Donlon flashed another of his smiles at Lucy McCoy. “In fact, it’ll be a pleasure.”

      “Oh, ack.” Syd didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Navy Ken glanced at her in surprise.

      “And provided,” Zale continued, “you agree to include Ms. Jameson in your team.”

      The SEAL laughed. Yes, his teeth were perfect. “No,” he said, “Chief. You don’t understand. A SEAL team is a team of SEALs. Only SEALs. Ms. Jameson will—no offense, ma’am—only get in the way.”

      “That’s something you’re just going to have to deal with,” Zale told him a little too happily. He didn’t like the Navy, and he didn’t like Syd. This was his way of getting back at them both. “I’m in charge of this task force. You do it my way, or your men don’t leave the naval base. There are other details to deal with, but Detective McCoy will review them with you.”

      Syd’s brain was moving at warp speed. Zale thought he was getting away with something here—by casting her off on to the SEALs. But this was the real story—the one that would be unfolding within the confines of the naval base as well as without. She’d done enough research on the SEAL units over the past СКАЧАТЬ