Page 70 of Near Miss

Nathan grunted. “Did Biller bring this to anyone else’s attention?”

“I don’t know—I don’t think so. Once I found the papers in Fred’s office and realized their significance, I took them to Lachlan and….” Her voice trailed off.

Metal scattered across the surface lot, the burning car, the blue tarp.

Lachlan squeezed her hand, but the touch was gone so quickly she might have imagined it.

“Sorry.” She took a sip of water.

Lachlan stared into space, a tic along his jawline the only indication emotion simmered beneath his surface.

Nathan leaned back and stretched his arms over his head. Sophia got a quick glimpse of muscled abs but winced when his spine gave a snap, crackle, pop. “I thumbed through reports from the Metropolitan Police’s homicide branch. Fred Biller was shot point-blank in the heart—a kill shot. The DC police have no leads on his killer, nor do they know why he was in Adams-Morgan alone, late on a Tuesday evening when he lived in Chantilly and had no known friends or acquaintances in the District.”

Sophia eyed the big man curiously. “How did you access the report on Fred’s death?”

Nathan smiled. “I have my ways.”

“Don’t ask. It’s better if you don’t know,” Lachlan said. He and Nathan exchanged a look.

Sophia suppressed a shudder. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who suspected Fred’s death hadn’t been random. Having those suspicions confirmed didn’t make her feel any better.

Lachlan spoke up, directing his comments to Nathan. “I sent a back-channel message to Ryder to let him know I’m alive and to monitor Burkette’s movements. He’ll have to see who shows up to retrieve those weapons on his own. I told him he could let his number two, Caleb Varella, in on the plan, so he had back up. You and I need to focus on whoever set me up and tried to kill me. Haider may be involved, but he’s not the mastermind.”

She waved a hand to get both men’s attention. “Hello? I can help.”

The dismissive look Lachlan gave her set her teeth on edge. “I don’t want you putting yourself in any more danger.”

Her heart stopped, then restarted with a painful thumping rhythm. She had to tell Lachlan about her meeting with the admiral and convince him she’d done the right thing. “I need to find a way to access LAI’s computers.”

“Nathan can do that.”

Nathan shifted in his seat and sent Lachlan a careful look. “I could get in faster if Sophia could access the main server and install a backdoor for me. I can tell her how to do it.”

“No.” Lachlan’s tone brooked no argument. “It’s not safe.” He turned his attention to her, his brows drawn low over his eyes and his jaw set. “I’ll have Nathan escort you to your condo to pack a bag. I don’t want you going back to LAI.”

“You don’t tell me you’re alive until now, and you snap your fingers and expect me to meekly do as I’m told? Really?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re a stubborn ass.”

A strange gurgling sound came from Nathan. She glanced his way to see him coughing into his fist. “I’ll rustle up some lunch. Sophia, you haven’t lived until you’ve had the Long family’s Hair-On-Fire Texas chili and homemade cornbread.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Lachlansenthisbootinto Nathan’s shin. Again. The former SEAL needed to keep his eyes above Sophia’s chin, cheeky bastard. Him and his bloody stories of his Texas childhood, flirting shamelessly with Sophia while Lachlan pretended to be fascinated with his lunch.

Nathan sent him a sly grin. Lachlan waited until Sophia’s attention was on her bowl before using his middle finger—and only his middle finger—to scratch the itch on his forehead.

The snort from Nathan had Sophia looking up, her head swiveling between Lachlan and Nathan as if she realized she wasn’t in on the joke.

Lachlan still was feeling a wee bit miffed at her refusal to see reason and had stayed quiet during the meal, despite both Sophia’s and Nathan’s efforts to draw him into the conversation. As the meal wore on, she got quiet. Her shoulders dipped. She didn’t laugh as freely at Nathan’s attempts to amuse her.

He sighed. He was being an arse.

“Lunch was yummy, Nathan. I’m impressed.” Sophia gathered her plates and silverware from the table and carried them into the kitchen.

Nathan followed. “My mama told me with the way I throw back food, I needed to learn to cook.” He gave Sophia a smile that made Lachlan’s teeth grind. Throwing a casual salute in Lachlan’s direction, he winked at Sophia. “I’m headed to my war room. Y’all play nice.”

Nathan’s office door clicking shut was overly loud in the strained silence. Sophia wandered into the living room and stood, staring out the sliding glass door to the deck.

The spicy chili sat uneasily in Lachlan’s stomach. He stood, cleared his dishes, and started a pot of coffee. Bitterness dug its claws into him. Sophia had believed in him—thought he was a good man even though she knew he was damaged. With her, he’d allowed the tiniest glimmer of hope to penetrate his defenses, to let down his guard and trust again. Contemplate a future that wasn’t all about penance and retribution.

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