Freefall. Jodie Bailey
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car. Imagine what this kind of carnage is doing to his soul.” He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over the rank on his chest. “He’ll get over it eventually. Think about it. The kid just bought himself legend status in the Division. He’ll forever be the guy whose car went up like the Fourth of July in the parking lot of the rigger shed. They’ll still talk about him when they’re in their seventies and swappin’ stories at the VFW hall.”
Straightening, Cassidy took the three steps across the room to the windows that looked down at the cavernous parachute packing area below, where Anderson huddled with several of his buddies by one of the long wooden pack tables. “You really think he’ll be okay?” Try as she might, she couldn’t always stop the mothering instinct as it surged in her.
“Yeah. I imagine as long as he didn’t have the bottle hooked up, insurance will cover most of it. He’ll get something new and shiny, and he’ll have a reputation to boot. He’s one bad dude now.”
She snickered and glanced over her shoulder at him. “Know what? I think it’s time we both got out of here. The fire’s out, Criminal Investigation Division is done and has released us to go. There’s no reason to stick around. Sergeant Jamison and Private Reynolds are locking up tonight. If you herd the rest of the crew out, you can get home to your wife.”
Mac straightened. “Works for me. See you Monday?”
“Yeah. Hopefully nothing will go up in smoke between now and then.” She waved as Mac rounded the corner into the main office, then turned her attention to the floor below. Normally, the warehouselike room was filled with riggers carefully inspecting and meticulously packing the parachutes that kept the “airborne” in the Eighty-Second Airborne Division. Now, after the excitement of this day, only a small knot stood between the tables and the door. From the looks of the small group, they’d ended the consolation portion of their day and had moved on to ribbing Anderson about his car. Circle of life or something like that.
Cassidy rested her forehead against the glass and studied them. In some ways, it felt like only a few weeks since she’d been a red-hatted rigger herself. Today, she felt every one of the days between then and now, days when she’d fought through quartermaster school, battled her private demons and emerged as one of the few females to ever sit in her position as Division Parachute Officer. Most days, it was an accomplishment that squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. Right now, the weight of her responsibility anchored her to the spot, too heavy to let her move.
“You and I both know nitrous isn’t flammable.” The voice over her shoulder yanked a gasp from her throat as her spine whipped straight.
Familiarity froze her feet to the floor before she could whip around. Not that voice. Not today. She’d spent years trying to let it go, to stop dreaming about it when she slept. The warm chills that washed over her in a haze of long-forgotten memories was almost as unwelcome as the blast that had corkscrewed this day sideways hours before.
Those were memories Cassidy should have released long ago and which should certainly not be drawing her in now. She gripped the ledge of the window so hard that her fingers burned against the painted cinder block. “When I turn around in three seconds, you’d better be a figment of my imagination.”
“I’d make that happen for you if I could, but today’s not the day. Cassy,” the voice dropped with a level of gravity she’d never heard before, “you have to listen to me.”
She shook her head, steeled herself against the sight of him and let go of the wall, her only anchor in a world rocking sickeningly out of control. The minute she turned, Cassidy wished she’d kept her grip. She couldn’t stop herself from noticing he’d filled out over the past few years. Brown hair still spiked forward over his forehead, but the green eyes she’d first fallen for had darkened and grown wiser. His Army Combat Uniform rode his shoulders in a way that spoke of lean muscle and sheathed strength. His jaw was squarer, his demeanor more confident. This older version of Shane Logan carried himself like a man, not an immature little boy playing dress up in a soldier’s body.
As always, the woman in her wanted to react to the man in him. It would take effort, but she’d choke that desire out in short order. Jerking her chin to the side, she called up her soldier facade. “And today’s not the day for my ex-husband to step back into my life.” She drew in a deep breath and tried to still the quake in her voice. “I’m pretty sure that’s a day that’s never going to come.”
A quick flash of something in his eyes was the one indication he gave that the bullet met its mark before he pulled himself a spare inch taller. “I understand that. And this isn’t by choice.” Shane took one short step into the room, but it was enough to back Cassidy so tight against the wall that she felt the window ledge press against her bones. “You’re not safe, Cassy.”
He had no idea. It took a strength she hadn’t had to rely on since her last combat tour, but she shoved aside the emotions his sudden appearance dragged up. On a normal day it would take too much energy to do battle with him. Today, too many reminders of war zone improvised explosives had stolen every ounce of her reserves. “Not as long as I’ve got cars blowing up in my parking lot and an ex who ought to be long gone sneaking up on me. I told you, Shane. Not today. Walk out, let another decade go by, and maybe I’ll feel more like listening to what you have to say.” With no little effort, she brushed past him and strode to her desk, where she shuffled papers in an obvious effort to ignore him. “You found your way in, you can find your way out.”
The quick thud of his boots didn’t give her enough warning. His fingers clasped her biceps and pulled her back around to face him before the sound fully registered against her ears. His gaze pinned hers with a force his grip couldn’t match. “Someone is trying to kill you.”
Cassidy jerked away, fighting the urge to step around her desk in an effort to use it as a barrier between them. Instead, she went against every instinct and stood taller, her nose inches from his. “Then they torched the wrong car.” Planting her palm against his chest, she shoved him out of her personal space, space he hadn’t invaded in years. “Did you come back from your last mission with posttraumatic stress riding your back?” Then again, the way her pulse was reacting to him right now, she was likely the one with stress issues. Why was she even letting him stand here? After what he’d done...
Anger flared at herself for letting him goad her senses. “Know what? Just go.” Cassidy rounded her desk, ashamed at herself for hiding. “I’ve had more than enough—”
“You’re missing a shipping container.”
The declaration choked off the rest of her words. “Wh—” Cassidy’s knees lost their strength, threatening to drop her hard into her chair. She knuckled the top of her desk. This was information she’d only just received that morning. “How did you know that?”
“It’s not important.” Shane flattened his palms against the top of her desk and leaned toward her. “Someone on the other side is packing your parachutes with heroin and shipping it back to the States.”
Cassidy stood and held her hands up between them to put a stop to this crazy train. Shane was clearly out of his head. “I don’t know how you found out about the missing CONEX, but that last part? You’ve lost your mind. You can’t come in here on a day like today and start messing with my head.” Her fingers wrapped around the receiver of her desk phone. “You’ve got ten seconds to get out before I call the MPs back here to have them talk to you.”
For a full half minute, Shane eyed her as though he were trying to judge the veracity of her threat, then his shoulders lost some of their squareness in acceptance. “Fine. For now.”
“No. For good.” Cassidy rounded the desk, careful not to brush her sleeve against Shane’s shoulder, and marched toward the door. “Ten years hasn’t been long enough for me to be ready to listen to you again.”
Before Shane could respond, motion from the outer office jerked Cassidy’s attention sideways.
Jackson Reese straightened from where he’d been leaning against the edge of the counter on