Savage Peril: Military Romantic Suspense (Stealth Security Book 6) Read online

  “For October, it was a little cool,” Lori said. “But I won’t complain about seventy degrees and sunny.”

  “And how was the conference?”

  “I managed to give the speech, if that’s what you mean.” Lori took a deep breath. “I’m glad it’s over. It was really hard for me to face an audience so soon after my father’s death.”

  “I understand,” Sheldon said. “I still think you should have cancelled. You push yourself too hard.”

  “I couldn’t do that,” Lori said. “My father spoke at that conference every year, and what he planned to share was important. I couldn’t let him down.”

  Sheldon didn’t argue. It was touching that he cared about her. It seemed that after her father died, Sheldon had stepped up to take the fatherly role. Sheldon was fifty-nine, a couple of years older than her father had been when he passed. He did, indeed, seem fatherly.

  When Lori stepped out to the sidewalk, the heat hit her. It had to be eighty degrees. “And back to the warm L.A. weather.”

  Sheldon smiled. “How about a late lunch? I’m sure you didn’t eat on the plane.”

  Lori’s stomach growled, although she didn’t have much appetite. But it would be good to sit and talk for a while. “Sure, you pick. I’ll eat whatever sounds good to you.”

  “How about Top of the Town?”

  Lori linked her arm with Sheldon’s. “You don’t have to do that.” The restaurant was one of the most beautiful, perched atop a downtown bank tower with stunning views of the city.

  “Nothing is too good for my niece,” Sheldon said. “And maybe you’ll find a dish that you’ll actually eat.”

  Lori couldn’t deny that not much sounded appetizing. “Yes, maybe.”

  The prospect of lunch with her uncle boosted Lori’s spirits. She could relax in his company and talk about things. He would be proud of her for saving a passenger’s life. That would be a story to tell. Besides, Lori wasn’t anxious to go home.

  After her father died, Lori had moved out of her apartment and into his house—but it seemed so empty. Years ago, when her mother had passed away, the place had seemed too large for one person. But her father had memories there, and he refused to sell it.

  The house was Lori’s now, and she couldn’t bear to part with it. Yet living there alone—without even a fiancé to warm her bed some nights—was depressing. She had no one but herself to blame for that. Maybe after lunch, she would ask Sheldon to drop her at the clinic.

  There was an overwhelming list of tasks that Lori needed to tend to. She had put them off for long enough. Grief or not, she was in charge and needed to start acting like it. Work would be therapeutic. Treating patients and alleviating pain made her feel valuable and gave her purpose.

  Sheldon ushered Lori into his BMW, then stowed her suitcase in the trunk. He got in and turned to her. “I want you to know that if you need anything, you must ask. I realize that you want to be strong, and I respect that. I’ve always admired your strength and professionalism. But I understand how difficult it was to lose Robert…your father. I miss him too. We have to stick together.”

  “That is kind of you,” Lori said. “You are the only person I have that I can count on, so that means a lot.”

  Sheldon squeezed her arm affectionately, then he headed for the restaurant. Lori leaned back and closed her eyes. For a moment, she allowed herself the luxury of imagining that her father was still alive, that he would greet her at the clinic and share the latest patient crisis.

  Lori couldn’t hold on to the past; she had to move forward. When she opened her eyes, she would quit dreaming and face her responsibilities. But her father would always be in her heart; he would be with her in spirit if not in body. And she vowed to wrap up the details surrounding his death and put any nagging unanswered questions behind her.

  Chapter 2

  After lunch, Lori asked her uncle to drop her at the pain clinic. She wanted to get back to work and not dwell on her sorrows. Patients counted on the clinic, and the staff depended on her to keep the operations running, despite any personal upheaval.

  Uncle Sheldon had been impressed with Lori preventing the death of a passenger on the flight home. She relayed the story, leaving out medical data that he wouldn’t understand. The tale was electrifying, even Lori thought so as she told it.

  Her uncle had heard of Marco Bacci’s firm, although he hadn’t used his services. Since there was no specialty listed on his business card, she assumed Marco handled general legal matters. Sheldon didn’t have more to add. Lori mentioned that Bacci’s office was in Santa Monica, probably not too far from the clinic.

  Before getting out, Lori kissed her uncle on the cheek and thanked him for lunch. He tried to persuade her to take the rest of the day off, but she assured him that it would be better for her to work. She walked to the front entrance of the clinic, feeling better already.

  Waters Pain Clinic was etched into the glass of the sliding doors. Lori found the environment comforting, despite the stresses of caring for patients. The clinic was where she fit in, where she had a valuable role to fill. It grounded her in an otherwise tumultuous world.

  The lobby and waiting area were decorated in blue, green, and orange. Lori had chosen those colors to make the atmosphere cheerful. All white looked too sterile, and patients had enough to deal with. A small thing like feeling good in the space could make a difference.

  There was a framed photograph of her father on the wall in the lobby. Lori planned to leave it there, since he was the founder of the clinic. She could take over operations, but she had no desire to take her father’s place in patients’ hearts.

  Relieving pain was a vital medical specialty. From personal experience, Lori understood how pain could destroy a patient’s quality of life. Her mother had been brave, enduring years of discomfort, including acute and chronic pain.

  Her father had arranged for a variety of therapies and continued to embrace any new technologies that appeared promising. Patients didn’t solely rely on pain medication, although prescriptions were given as required, including nerve blocks in extreme cases.

  There was pain therapy, injections, implantable devices, as well as oral pain medications. As a clinician certified in the treatment of chronic pain conditions, Lori recommended behavioral and psychological therapies as well. Even lifestyle changes could make a difference.

  The check-in clerks were busy assisting patients, so Lori went to her office. She had a couple of urgent matters to handle, ones that wouldn’t take long to deal with. Then she would talk with the doctor on duty and find out how things had gone in her absence.

  Lori’s phone vibrated; it was her brother Nick. He was three years younger, but at age thirty-three he was very immature. She loved him, but he’d caused trouble for the family. In his teens, Nick had gotten in with the wrong crowd and had a drug addiction that was tough to break.

  Initially, drug rehab hadn’t worked. Nick was irresponsible and drifted back into old patterns. It took several attempts before he could overcome the addiction and function better. He had attended college but didn’t graduate. He had no career, due to a lack of motivation.

  Lori assumed that Nick wasn’t on drugs but was uneasy. She had no way of knowing for sure. His call might mean that he needed money, and this wasn’t a day that she felt tolerant of her brother’s failings. She would call him back later.

  Clinic matters would have to come first. Lori headed for the doctors’ station, but only a few steps down the hallway, she ran into Matt. She had hoped to avoid a confrontation, but from his expression, she feared that would be unavoidable.

  Lori held up a hand. “Not now, Matt. I just got in and I’m busy.”

  Matt looked handsome in a blue dress shirt under a tailored blazer. He had neatly groomed short brown hair that she had run her fingers through more times that she cared to remember. And his piercing blue eyes gave her pause.

  Despite Matt’s good looks and charm, Lori didn’t respond as she
might have. The emotions that he had been so adept at stirring within her weren’t there. She realized that she was over him. That had been a gradual process, so Lori wasn’t sure exactly when her feelings had changed.

  Matt was smart, athletic, and good at his job. He was a good catch for the right woman. But Lori wasn’t the one. His personality, along with his fine attributes, left her cold. She tried to envision how she’d agreed to marry him.

  “You didn’t return my calls,” Matt said, blocking her path.

  “If it was clinic business, you should have emailed.” Lori refused to look up. At five feet one, she didn’t reach his shoulder level. She wasn’t going to satisfy him by staring up and feeling submissive. She was done with that.

  “Would you have answered?”

  “You are the clinic director,” Lori said. “Of course I would reply to your email.”

  Matt put his hand on Lori’s shoulder. “Is that all we are to each other, coworkers?”

  “I don’t want to do this right now, Matt.”

  “But I do.”

  Lori brushed his hand away and stepped around. “Not in the hallway. This is uncomfortable, and I don’t have any more to say to you anyway.”

  Matt looked at her with pleading eyes. Lori recognized the expression. “It’s not going to work this time. I won’t give in. I’ve already told you that, and I explained why.”

  “You told me, but I don’t think that’s all,” Matt said. “After losing your father, I’d think you would want intimacy. It’s natural to reach out during grieving.”

  That was Matt: he wouldn’t listen. His way was the right way and explaining didn’t do any good. He couldn’t even see that was one of the reasons the relationship hadn’t worked out.

  “If you care for me at all, you’ll respect my wishes,” Lori said. “I have a lot going on right now, especially the loss of my father. I can’t deal with our issues. I’ve told you that.”

  Matt stepped closer. “Will you talk to me, please? I don’t think you want to do this. If you hear what I have to say, you might change your mind.”

  “I’m done talking.” Lori walked past Matt without looking back. She didn’t want to see his dejected look. It had taken a lot to break it off with him, and she couldn’t go back. Even though his pleading made her feel heartless.

  At the doctors’ station, Lori glanced down the hall, grateful that Matt hadn’t followed her. Yet she had no doubt that he hadn’t given up. She wondered if it was more about not getting what he wanted than how much he cared for her. Using wit and charm enabled Matt to finagle what he desired. And this time she was the target.

  Lori found Doctor Reed examining a patient’s chart. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”

  “My flight got in early,” Lori said. “How did it go while I was away?”

  Adam Reed had been with the clinic longer than Lori. He was forty and attractive. The female patients quite liked him. He had a warm smile and a gentle nature. “You don’t trust me?”

  Lori grinned. “You’re such a tease. Of course I trust you. If I’m not needed, I’ll just go home to a hot bath.”

  “I didn’t say that.” Adam proceeded to enlighten her about some difficulties with a patient, so Lori offered her opinion. While discussing the matter, he formulated a treatment plan.

  Afterward, Lori checked in on a few patients who had standing appointments and spoke with the nurse. Yet she wasn’t as focused as usual. Nagging worry over her father’s death distracted her, as she wrestled with thoughts that she couldn’t put aside.

  When Adam was free, Lori asked to speak with him. In his office, she took a seat in front of the desk.

  Adam leaned forward in his chair. “What is it you’d like to discuss?”

  Lori sighed, unsure how to approach this. “I know we’ve gone over this before, but I’d like to talk about it once more.”

  “Your father’s death?”

  “I can’t stop thinking…”

  “Lori, it wasn’t your fault,” Adam said. “I’m not saying that just to make you feel better. Your father’s death was due to respiratory failure. It was sudden and unexpected. I’m telling you that there isn’t anything you could have done to prevent it.”

  “On one hand, I agree with you,” Lori said. “But certain things bother me.”

  Adam waited for her to continue.

  “Before he died, my father had symptoms of a virus,” Lori said. “He experienced weakness, nausea, muscle aches.”

  “What else?”

  “Loss of appetite, stomach pain.”

  “Did your father express concerns that it was more than a virus?”

  “No, he didn’t,” Lori said. “But misdiagnosis is not uncommon, as you are aware. A variety of causes can have similar symptoms.”

  “That is true,” Adam said. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m not sure, and that’s what bothers me.”

  Adam steepled his fingers. “Let’s talk this through.”

  “The coroner stated the cause of death was respiratory failure,” Lori said. “Since my father hadn’t previously been diagnosed with respiratory issues, the incident was sudden and acute, causing death.”

  “Yes, I read the report,” Adam said. “An unknown allergy or a reaction to medication could result in respiratory failure.”

  “But that’s what I can’t get past,” Lori said. “The cause is undetermined, so that doesn’t resolve it for me. What allergy? What medication?”

  “That might remain a mystery,” Adam said. “Hospitals aren’t required to perform an autopsy. Insurers don’t pay for them. The coroner is routinely relied on to determine cause of death. Only a small percent of deaths need autopsies.”

  “I know that,” Lori said. “It didn’t seem necessary, so I didn’t ask for one. After his death, I was in too much grief to think clearly, and was involved with arranging the funeral, dealing with relatives.”

  “An autopsy won’t bring your father back,” Adam said. “Respiratory failure killed him, and discovering the impetus of that won’t change anything.”

  “Yes, unless…”

  Adam furrowed his brow. “Are you talking about malpractice?”

  “No, he self-treated. As far as I know, he didn’t consult anyone besides me.”

  Adam looked at Lori. The silence lengthened.

  It couldn’t be. Surely, Lori was off base, grasping at straws. There was no chance that…

  “Are you considering the possibility of foul play?” Adam gave her a minute to process that.

  “I’m sorry,” Lori said. “My mind is playing tricks on me. It’s not possible.”

  “I agree,” Adam said. “Your father was loved and respected. What motive could there have been to kill him?”

  “There couldn’t,” Lori said. “I need to wipe this from my mind. It remains a mystery I’ll have to live with. The family, friends, everyone has been through enough.”

  “You need to let it go.”

  Lori’s conscience weighed on her. Because her father had died prematurely, she felt responsible. He had been strong and healthy, except for the virus. She should have been more attentive, made him see another doctor when he hadn’t been feeling well.

  Only, she hadn’t—and now it was too late.

  *****

  Gunner Cantrell was in the business of close protection. The field of personal security was not for the fainthearted, as he had quickly learned. The unexpected was routine, and he had been trained to accommodate a variety of client requirements.

  While driving to the VA hospital, Gunner considered the protection business. It required mental agility as well as physical. He was fit for the job, except for a bad ankle. That was an annoyance but didn’t prevent him from working as a bodyguard.

  The night before, a celebrity client had required protection at the Greek Theater, near Griffith Park. Due to the smaller venue, watching the performance had been like listening to music in a friend’s backyard. Under other
circumstances, he would have enjoyed it.

  Concerts were scheduled there from spring into fall, and this time of year it could get chilly. The summer concert season had been the busiest, and Gunner had worked the venue a few other times. A big attraction was the pink hotdogs, but during the event, such things were mere distractions.

  Gunner’s job was to keep his client safe, and he was good at that. After college, he had joined the Navy and trained as a SEAL. He was physically fit for the demands of the job. As a linebacker in college football, he had broken his right ankle. Fortunately, the bone had completely mended, and he was accepted into the service.

  The Navy career had been challenging, which suited Gunner. He’d retired at the age of thirty-nine, still single and looking for a job in the private sector. Physical stress from many deployments resulted in issues with his joints, particularly his right ankle. The doctor informed him that the ankle was more vulnerable as a result of the old injury.

  For the most part, the injury didn’t interfere with Gunner’s life. He ran eight miles every morning and lifted weights to hone his muscles. At six feet one and two hundred and ten lean pounds, he had bulk on his side—which was an advantage as a bodyguard.

  Gunner was broad-shouldered and beefy, but all muscle. He had joined the Stealth Security protection team and took special assignments that required an intimidating bodyguard. Travis Hewitt had founded the company to provide protection to VIPs, which included celebrities, sports figures, and CEOs.

  Yet that wasn’t all Gunner handled. Ripley McConnell had functioned as the local security analyst before marrying and moving to Texas to be with his new wife. Rip worked remotely, and Gunner teamed up with him and took care of local needs.

  When it came to computers, Gunner understood them like he had invented them. It was second nature to take one apart and put it back together. His skills had been valuable in the Navy, as well as at Stealth Security.

  Gunner had been told that he was a bit of genius with technology. He didn’t know about that, but he was handy at investigations. He had an affinity for digging up information for the team, coupled with a physique that made him ideal for bodyguard duty. Mainly, he was just pleased to be part of a team of former SEALs in the civilian sector.