Shock Wave. Dana Mentink
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Sage again. “Why don’t you tell me who or what you’re really looking for?”
She started. “What makes you think I’m looking for something?”
His lip curled. “Your straight face isn’t too convincing, not to mention the fact that I don’t see any camera.” He thought she was going to let him have it, but she smiled that amazing grin that made something in the pit of his stomach flutter around.
“I knew I forgot something. Left my camera in the car.” After a moment, her smile slowly vanished.
He was not sure what to say, how to counter the shadow that hung heavily between them. Luis was the face that swam in Trey’s dreams, the civilian who had died on Trey’s watch. He’d been so right to protest taking outsiders into a war zone, dead right, but he could see in her expression that she still didn’t accept that, wouldn’t take responsibility for her part in Luis’s death. A creaking under their feet hinted that the old theater was settling again, sinking under the weight of unseen pressure.
“Isn’t safe to be in here. I’ll walk you out.”
“I’ll find Antonia first and tell her I’m leaving. She was here a few minutes ago.”
“This place is a death trap. We’ll go now and I’ll come back and find her after you’re outside.”
Sage moved back a step. “I’m not going and you can’t order me to. This isn’t the army, Captain Black.”
He fixed her with a stare. “You didn’t take orders even when you were in my platoon.”
“You never wanted us there.”
He felt the exasperation, the anger, bubble up again, fresh as it had been a year ago. “No, I didn’t and I was right. We were there to fight. There is no room in a combat zone for civilians.”
“Journalists.”
“Whatever.”
She shook her head. “Luis and I were there to bring attention where it most needed to be. Our stories brought the public right to the front lines, to show the world what war is really like. It was worth the inconvenience to your operation.”
He spoke softly, his words floating away into the darkness. “Would Luis’s widow agree with you?”
The wrong thing to say, again, though every syllable was the truth. This time she didn’t even attempt an answer. She pushed past him on the stairs, Wally prancing at her heels. Trey reached out and touched her shoulder, so small in his ham of a hand. “Look, I’m sorry. This isn’t the time. Fact is, I’m glad to see you, Sage.” I can’t stop thinking about you.
Good thing that thought stayed in his head where it belonged. She hadn’t missed him at all, judging from the way she snatched herself out of his grasp. “Nice of you to say. I’ve got a job to do here, so go ahead and see yourself out.”
The old building shuddered and swayed under the grip of another earthquake. The motion sent Sage off balance and he steadied her. “You’re not staying in here.” This time, she would not ignore him.
“I’m not leaving this opera house without talking to Antonia.”
“Every once in a while you should listen to reason,” he snapped. “Since you can’t seem to do that, I will have to be your personal escort.”
She pulled away again and flashed him a smile. “Only if you can keep up with me, Captain,” she said as the blackness closed around her.
TWO
Sage’s knees were shaking, but it wasn’t from an earthquake. Those mischievous eyes, the dimples carved into his cheeks, the lazy twang of his Southern accent. Trey Black could not be here in the wreck of an opera house. Worse yet, it was not possible that her stomach stirred at the sight of him, nerves jangling at the touch of his big hands.
No, no, no.
It was not right, her attraction for this man that started the moment she’d clapped eyes on him. Romance had no place in a combat zone. And it had no place now, when she wanted to forget she’d ever set foot in Afghanistan and finally had something important to focus on, something that might allow her to escape the smothering blanket of PTSD that nearly crippled her.
She could feel him, sense his big presence in the stairwell behind her, and she quickened her pace. It was a useless effort. Trey Black would not approve of her trotting off into a potentially dangerous situation by herself. A woman doesn’t belong around danger, he’d told her calmly with that half-teasing tone. Part of her was flattered, the other part was infuriated. He was a chauvinist. She was every bit as capable, or at least she had been before her self-confidence had blown away in an angry chatter of bullets. Way down deep at the bottom of her fury, she had the dreaded feeling that maybe Trey Black had been right.
Afghanistan had been a nightmarish combination of unbelievable courage and silent grief. She saw it in the eyes of the soldiers when one of their comrades fell and behind their stoic expressions when things went bad. And she’d forced herself in, obtaining approval by using her connections. So where did the blame really belong?
She shook her head to clear it.
Don’t go back there.
Her cell phone chimed and she answered it, still moving down the stairs.
A deep voice filled the line. “It’s Derick.”
That brought her up short. She could picture his fiftysomething face, still with that luminous big-screen quality and easy charm, the perfect thatch of sandy hair. “Hello. It’s good to hear from you.”
He blew out a breath. “I was worried. Are you all right? Just had another quake and the Imperial is a collapse waiting to happen. I was afraid you might be buried alive.”
She wondered how he knew she was at the opera house. “I’m okay. A chunk of ceiling came down.”
He gasped. “You must leave there immediately. It’s not safe and Barbara would never forgive me if something happened to you.”
She wished she could hear Barbara say those words. “I’m on my way out right now. What can I do for you?”
“I want you to reconsider staying with us here. I know Barbara wouldn’t want you to be in a hotel, especially with all these quakes happening. We’ve got plenty of extra rooms, even with Antonia staying in the guest house.”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“You’ve been worried about Barbara.” He laughed. “You think I’ve stuffed her away in some closet, I gather.”
“No, of course not,” she said, mentally berating herself for not taking things slower with Derick. “I just worry about her, with her pregnancy and all. It didn’t seem like a reasonable idea to take a trip when she’s due to deliver twins in a matter of weeks.”
He sighed. “Anyone who knows Barbara would agree that she is one headstrong lady. That’s what I love about her. It’s maddening, but we make it work for the most part.”
Sage didn’t know what to say about that. He sounded perfectly sincere, but he was an actor. It was his job to sound sincere. To hear him tell it, his career was in top form, but she’d heard rumblings of financial hardship, bad investments. Maybe it was just rumors. Maybe not.
“I just want you to know I received an email from her today,” he continued.
Sage’s heart sped up. Had she been wrong about everything? “That’s great. What did she say?”
“I’ll read it straight from the screen. ‘So enjoying my time in Santa Fe. Tell Sage to photograph only the front lobby of the Imperial. The rest is a wreck, too dangerous. Will call soon, love and kisses, Barbara.’”
The silence stretched between them until Derick spoke again. “Sage? Did you hear that?