Bullseye: Seal

The bartender placed their beers in front of them and Josh absently clinked his mug against hers. “What makes you think he’s alive now? Just because that violent individual in the alley told you so?”

“That’s not all. There have been a couple of other signs...messages.”

“From him?”

Her hand jerked at Josh’s harsh tone, and the beer sloshed over the side of the glass and ran down her hand. She plucked a cocktail napkin from the artfully arranged stack and dabbed her knuckles.

“A couple of texts using a...nickname that nobody else would know.”

Josh leaned back and took a gulp of beer. “Why would your husband text you? Why not call you or better yet, walk up to your mother’s place and knock on the door?”

She flicked the beer mug with her fingernail. How much should she reveal to this man she’d just met yesterday? Telling him the whole truth, that her husband and father had been involved in the drug trade and both had been killed at the same time in a planned assassination—would make anyone run for the exit.

That’s not something you just blurted out on a first date.

“It’s complicated, Josh. He wouldn’t be in a position to just come to me freely.”

“Sounds...dangerous.”

“It is.” She twisted her hair around one hand and then dropped it as the strands abraded the scrapes on her palm. “That’s why I don’t want to drag you into it from your safe and sane world of software development.”

“Yeah, safe and sane.” His lips quirked. “Sounds pretty far-fetched to me. Would you really go off with a stranger in search of your husband? Or did you know that man in the alley?”

“Never saw him before in my life.”

Josh shook his head. “I can’t believe a savvy woman like you, a cautious woman like you, one who carries a .22 in her handbag on a date...”

She touched the purse hanging over her knee.

“Yeah, I know you have it in there. Anyway, can’t believe someone like you would traipse off with a stranger promising to take you to your dead husband.”

“I...” She pressed two fingers against her lips. She knew she’d been taking a risk meeting that man in the alley, but she had to know if Ricky was alive. “You’re right, but he offered a compelling lure.”

“That’s exactly what it sounds like to me—a lure. That man in the alley wants something from you and figured the best way to get you to go with him was the story about your dead husband.”

Hunching forward, she grabbed his wrist. “But what if it isn’t a story? What if RJ’s father is alive? I have to know.”

“Forget about it, Gina. He’s dead.”

She flung his arm away from her. “You don’t know that. You don’t know anything. I’m sorry I told you.”

“Why, because you don’t want to hear the truth?”

“It’s a possibility. Don’t you understand that? I have to know for sure, for RJ’s sake.”

“He’s dead, Gina.”

“Stop saying that. How can you be so sure after hearing just a portion of the whole story?”

“I am sure.”

“Why?”

“Because I was there when your father and husband were shot and killed.”

Chapter Four (#u384220e4-1c6b-5e90-9906-f81936431ef2)

Ice water raced through her veins. She gulped against the sensation of drowning, but the air never seemed to make it to her lungs. She sputtered and gasped.

The stranger across from her squeezed her knee. “Do you need some water?”

“Water?” She gurgled. Why would she need water when the stuff threatened to overwhelm her?

“Gina, are you okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spring it on you like this.”

“Spring what?” She pressed her hands to her face, her skin cool and clammy beneath her touch. “Who are you? What do you want from me? Have you been the one sending those texts?”

His lying eyes widened. “Texts? Someone’s been sending you texts?”

She tried to hop off the stool but forgot her feet were hooked around its legs, and she fell forward instead. His arms curled around her, breaking her fall as she landed against his chest.

“I’ve given you a shock.” He gently lifted her from the stool and set her on wobbly legs. “A table opened up in the corner. Let’s grab it.”

She didn’t want to grab anything with this man, but she couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought, never mind launch some kind of offensive against him.

She allowed him to lead her to the table and she plopped down in the chair.

He placed her mug of beer in front of her. “Have a drink.”

Wrapping her hands around the heavy glass, she raised it to her lips and gulped down half the mug. Then she wiped the foam from her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Are you going to tell me who you are or am I going to whip that weapon out of my purse for encouragement?”

He had the nerve to smile, if that’s what that twist of his lips meant.

“I’m glad to see you’re coming around. You had me worried there for a minute.”

“Stop stalling, Josh Edwards, or whoever you are.”

“Josh Elliott—only a partial lie.”

She ignored the hand he held out to her. “That doesn’t tell me a thing. What are you and why are you stalking me and how do you know about my father and my husband and how they died?”

“I’m a United States navy SEAL.” He pulled out a wallet and snapped an ID card on the table between them.

Pressing her lips into a line, she poked it with her finger as if it could bite her. It looked official, but she knew all too well anything could be faked or forged. “And?”

“We assisted the CIA in Colombia when they took down the controlling members of the Los Santos drug cartel and the two terrorists they were meeting.”