Lincoln.” And she’d been grateful she’d never had to serve the duty of being a surviving family member’s sole link to the military during a time of such grief. Many of her friends had been CACOs and had found it emotionally taxing.
“It was a while ago, and Pepé and I have a good life here.”
“You said you were Army. Where were you stationed? What brought you to Whidbey?”
“The short version is that I’m originally from Texas. I had a long-lost relative here, and she and I reconnected. I inherited her home when she passed away. But initially I’d learned about Whidbey when Pepé and I attended a resort for Gold Star families on San Juan Island. You might have heard of it—Beyond the Stars. I fell in love with the area and started to research the feasibility of staying. And then, of course, there was Aunt Dottie... Anyway, I was looking for a new life for Pepé and me, and this proved to be it.” Serena restacked a pile of papers on her desk. “How about you, Joy? Are you planning to stay on Whidbey?”
“Yes. I’ve bought a house out on West Beach with just about all my life’s savings. My last tour was here. I requested it after coming up to Whidbey for a weekend break from the carrier.”
“Is there someone special here? Someone who gave you a reason to stay?”
The flush that was heating her face was impossible to stop. Until this morning, she would’ve answered with an unequivocal “no.”
Before Brad pushed open her kitchen door and pressed his body against hers...
“Um, no. No one special here. I made the move on my own.”
“That’s brave.”
“No braver than moving here after such a huge loss—with a child.”
“Touché.”
They shared a moment of quiet commiseration before Serena’s gaze went back to her screen. A few seconds later she spoke again. “Believe it or not, we almost met last year. I’m involved with someone you know.”
“Oh? I thought you looked kind of familiar.”
“We didn’t exactly meet but we were both at the Fords’ Christmas party. Winnie pointed you out, but I never got the chance to talk to you.”
Recognition dawned. “You’re with Jonas, aren’t you?”
It was Serena’s turn to blush. “Yes. We’re engaged and getting married at Thanksgiving. He told me you and he had briefly dated, and I didn’t want it hanging between us. He thinks the world of you.”
Stunned at the revelation, Joy stared at Serena. They were complete opposites physically. Joy had a boyish figure, and Serena was all curves. Serena’s hair shone black and straight, while Joy’s was strawberry blond and curly.
If Serena was Jonas’s type, Joy had never stood a chance.
Her laughter surprised her as much as it did Serena. At the wariness on Serena’s face, Joy said, “Please don’t take this the wrong way—but I’m relieved! I blamed myself for not being able to make it work with Jonas. We never got past the dating part, you know.” A kiss on the cheek was all she could give Jonas without reminding herself he wasn’t Brad.
Because, even then, thoughts of Brad were still with her, months after the last time she’d seen him.
“I didn’t even bother to ask him to recommend me to Paul.” Paul, her boss, was Jonas’s older brother.
“Jonas didn’t give me details about you two, and I’m not fishing for any. I just thought you should know.” Serena looked so happy, Joy knew it was the truth.
“There aren’t any details to tell you. We went out a few times. That was it. He’s a good man. You’ve got a keeper there.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I promise I won’t be such a chatterbox every day, Serena. Don’t let me interrupt your work.”
“It’s nice having you here, Joy.”
“Thanks.”
Joy settled into her chair and braced herself, trying to focus on her new cases without letting her mind wander back to Brad.
“Don’t worry about Paul, by the way. He’s the most easygoing boss I’ve ever had. As long as the work gets done and we satisfy our clients.”
Serena’s fingers were on her keyboard and her eyes on her screen as she spoke. Joy liked a woman who could multitask.
“Have you ever not done that?”
Serena’s luminous brown eyes blinked before her attention rested on Joy again.
“No, not yet. But there’ll be a first. There has to be. There’s always something waiting to go wrong.”
Serena had no idea how astute her observation was. In Joy’s case, something very large had gone wrong, or at least thrown her off her game. Possibly on an international scale. Involving terrorism.
Joy dove gratefully into her work. She felt a flash of regret that she couldn’t appreciate this day in its entirety, but she kept going. There’d be time to enjoy her new job later. After she’d helped Brad and his worries were behind him. Behind both of them.
Would that be it? Would Brad go back into the netherworld of her fantasy life, only a memory?
More likely she’d find herself in a deeper emotional pit than the one she’d been in after Norfolk.
As tears threatened to spill, she blinked and opened the top file on her stack. Usually she had no problem dredging up enthusiasm for her cases, no matter how menial. But she’d been a fool to think she could become invested in anything with the worry of Brad’s predicament looming.
But Brad’s problems were just that. His. She’d help him and then he’d leave. He wasn’t the settling-down type. And Joy was done with moving, as much as she was done with men whose work took them around the world.
She’d had enough of it as a child with all the State Department moves her Foreign Service parents had made. They were currently posted to France for the second time.
“Oh, Joy, I forgot to mention there’s a fresh pot of coffee in the break room. I’ve been making it every day after lunch, but now that you’re the most junior staff member, perhaps you’d like to take over?”
“Sure.”
Only someone as nice as Serena could point out so sweetly that Joy was the current low man on the totem pole.
Concentrating on something as mundane as coffee would keep her from drowning in the chaos that Brad had brought into her life mere hours ago.
* * *
JOY KEPT HER trip to the grocery store after work as short as possible, but she couldn’t skip it. Not with Brad needing to eat. She hurried through the crowded aisles, wondering what to feed a trained killer. Did that make her an accomplice to murder? He’d had to “take out” the man in the boat. The SAM shooter. Would he have to kill anyone else on this particular undercover mission?
Stop it.
He’d be hungry after a day at her place. She’d planned to get Indian takeout tonight, to celebrate her first day back at work. Instead, she was harboring a probable fugitive and wondering if she should stock up on canned goods in case they had to hunker down.
“Excuse me.” She pushed her cart through the pasta aisle, throwing boxes of elbow macaroni into the basket. From the dairy cooler she took a half gallon of milk and some cheese, then made her way to the meat case, where she picked out the leanest ground beef she could find. She hadn’t eaten red meat regularly in years, but she suspected Brad would wolf it down.
And she could freeze the leftovers for hearty meals later.
Later?
Her