Bravo, Tango, Cowboy. Joanna Wayne
“They haven’t found your daughter.”
“And you think you can?”
“Yeah. I do.”
This discussion had crossed a dozen lines she hadn’t seen coming. Did this man she barely knew really expect her to hire him to search for Lucy? A dull throb started at the back of her skull. Her stomach rolled.
The whole idea was ludicrous. Then again, what did she have to lose, other than her sanity, if she gathered hope again only to have it dissolve into emptiness? Or if she failed to give Brandon any kind of normal life because she was caught up in a revived investigation that would tear her apart on a daily basis.
And then there were the financial considerations. Hawk worked for Cutter and she was certain their services didn’t come cheap. A private investigation would require money she didn’t have because she’d already spent a large portion of Todd’s insurance on traveling the country that first year, putting up flyers and appearing on every TV station and talk-radio program that would let her plead for information about her missing child.
Yet if there was even a ghost of a chance…
She raised her eyes and met Hawk’s dark penetrating gaze. Something seemed to give way, as if the cords holding her together were beginning to fray.
“Exactly what are you suggesting, Hawk?”
“That I conduct my own investigation into Lucy’s disappearance. That you give me full access to any and all information you have or can get from the FBI. That you work with me and answer every question honestly. That you have a little faith in my ability.”
“And if you don’t find her?”
“You’ll be no worse off than you are now.”
And if he succeeded, she’d have Lucy home again. Unless…The possibilities swelled inside her and her breath burned as if she were inhaling pure acid. They’d found no trace of Lucy, but that had let her maintain the hope that Lucy was alive. What if she wasn’t? What if she’d died at the hands of some pervert? Could Alonsa bear knowing the certainty of that?
Hawk reached across the space between them and took her hands in his. “I realize you know nothing about me, Alonsa, that you have no reason to trust me, but you can talk to Cutter. He’ll vouch that I have a talent for smoking out facts where none seem to exist. I’m not bragging. It’s just how it is.”
Not bragging. Not arrogant. Just sure of himself. It went with the Special Ops territory, she suspected. It was his reason for being so quick to want to jump into this that she couldn’t decipher. And there was still the cost.
“Even if I want to hire you, I’m not sure I can afford you.”
“You won’t have to pay anything except reasonable expenses. An economy flight from time to time. A cheap hotel when the need arises. Frogmen aren’t used to first class.”
“You can’t work for nothing.”
“I can do what I want for now. Once I start the new assignment with Cutter my time for this will be limited, but I can move on this full speed until then. So the sooner we rev the engines, the better.”
He had answered all her questions but one. “Why, Hawk? Why would you do this for a virtual stranger?”
“I like the way you dance. And it’s the right thing to do.”
HAWK TOOK THE LONG way back to the Double M. Scenes from the past pummeled his mind as he drove the dark meandering roads through lonesome strands of pine. Flying over enemy territory searching for a fellow frogman who hadn’t returned from a mission. Swimming beneath the current with the body of a fallen buddy strapped to him like a second skin.
No man left behind.
He’d lived by that vow in the ragged mountains of Afghanistan and in Middle Eastern deserts so hot he’d felt as if his blood were boiling. Now he was back in America and out of uniform, but the vow seemed no less important. A little girl torn from her mother and dragged into who knew what. Didn’t Alonsa deserve to find her daughter or at least get some kind of closure?
A major concern right now was just how much of this was about him and what he needed. He’d been out of the service for months now and still he hadn’t found any kind of groove. That’s why he’d joined up with Cutter.
Becoming a SEAL had made him part of a team that tackled everything that was thrown at them with never a thought of failure. No one had been more surprised than he was to discover how much he missed being a part of that team and of something bigger than himself.
The only real drawback to taking on this case was the sizzling attraction that had hit the first moment he’d laid eyes on Alonsa. The way she’d moved on the dance floor. The way she’d felt in his arms when they two-stepped their way through the sultry country-western ballad. The way she’d looked in that chair, with her legs curled up under her. Even the way she’d poured him a cup of coffee.
Hell, everything about her turned him on.
But seducing her was not in the rules of engagement. It would make him less effective, might even complicate their relationship to the point where working together would become impossible. Worse, it would be taking advantage of her weakest vulnerability.
He’d just have to keep his libido under control, at least until the job was done. That would require seeing her without touching her on a regular basis and going home to cold showers and an empty bed every night.
And he’d thought the war zone was tough.
ALONSA RINSED BRANDON’S empty cereal bowl, placed it in the dishwasher and poured herself a glass of orange juice. She’d lain awake for most of the night, tossing, turning and vacillating between enthusiasm for Hawk’s offer and a dread that was pitted deep in her soul. A dread that made no sense.
She wanted her daughter back with every fiber of her being, prayed for it perpetually, had spent an entire year so consumed with finding her that she’d sinfully neglected her son. The belief that Lucy was still alive and that someday they’d be reunited was the glue that held her together.
But what if Lucy wasn’t?
“Mom, come see what I built.”
“Okay, sweetie. I’ll be right there.” She took her juice and ambled to the family room where Brandon had arranged his wooden blocks in a tower that reached his chin.
“It’s a skyscraped.”
“Skyscraper,” she corrected him. “A super-duper one.”
He laughed and knocked it over, scattering the blocks in every direction.
“All that work just to watch it fall?”
“Yeah. It’s fun.”
The hum of an engine in her drive sent a new wave of apprehension slithering along her nerve endings. She went to the front window and watched as Hawk climbed from behind the wheel and started for the house.
Amazingly he looked even more virile than he had last night. His jeans were worn, his shirt a black, collarless knit that hugged his hard frame, not the Western type so many of the local ranchers wore. But the boots and black Stetson insured that genuine, rugged cowboy look.
Yet something set him apart from the other men in the area. Maybe it was the cocky swagger or the determined set of his chin. And suddenly she knew why the apprehension had taken such hold of her.
Hawk was battlefield-hardened and success-proven. If he set out to do something, it wasn’t likely he’d stop until he succeeded. This time that determination would be directed full force at investigating her daughter’s disappearance. She’d finally get answers. She’d find out what happened to Lucy.
But what if the truth was more than her heart could bear?
Her fingers were clammy and her heart was in her throat when