Page 44 of Securing Jane

“Doesn’t matter. Wherever you are is where I want to be.” He saw her flush.

“You’re too good to me,” she said.

“No such thing,” Storm swore, then leaned down and kissed her briefly. “We’ve got to get to work or we’ll be late. I’ll follow you, like usual.” He loved that they left for work at the same time. He would’ve preferred to be driving her, but they really did both need their cars just in case they needed to go off base at some point in the day. Storm was looking forward to the day she’d feel comfortable taking his Golf when she needed to run an errand, but he’d deal for now.

“Okay. Drive safe,” she told him.

“You too, baby,” Storm replied, squeezing her hand once more before dropping it and heading for his car. He looked back once to see Jane watching him and lifted his chin in her direction. She gave him a small wave and headed for her Camry. When she’d come over on Friday night, the parking lot had been packed, and she’d had to park a few rows over from where his car was located.

Storm arrived at his vehicle and started it. He took a minute to glance at his email once more before putting his car in gear and backing out. He pulled around to where Jane had been and saw that she was already pulling out of the parking lot.

It was unusual for her not to wait for him to pull up behind her, but he didn’t think much about it. They were running a bit late, probably because he’d been reluctant to get out of bed and had spent an extra ten minutes simply holding her against him that morning after the alarm had gone off. She was probably just anxious to get to work and not to be late.

Storm headed out of the parking lot and caught up to Jane fairly quickly. Then he frowned—something seemed out of place.

It took him a moment to figure out what it was, and when he did, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

There was someone in the car with Jane. Sitting in the front seat next to her. He couldn’t imagine who she could’ve met and agreed to give a ride to in the thirty seconds or so when she’d been out of his sight.

When they stopped at a light, Jane didn’t look in her rearview window and wave at him, like she often did.

Something was wrong. He knew it in his gut.

And Storm knew better than to ignore his gut. It had saved his life more than once when he’d been a SEAL. He hadn’t felt this way in a very long time, but he’d never forget or dismiss the feeling.

Picking up his phone, he dialed a number he’d memorized a long time ago…just in case. The Navy police.

* * * *

Jane held on to her steering wheel and stared straight ahead, too terrified to do anything that would set off the woman sitting next to her. One second she’d been smiling and relaxed, remembering how sweet Storm had been that morning, and the next, a woman had opened her passenger-side door and shoved a knife against her side and told her to drive.

She would’ve bailed out of the car there and then because she knew better than to let a carjacker take her someplace where it would be easier to kill her and dump her dead body, except the woman said in a low voice, “This box in my lap has a bomb in it. If you don’t do exactly what I say, we’re both going to be blown to itty-bitty pieces, and no one will ever find all our parts.”

Somehow, Jane knew she wasn’t lying. So she put her car in gear and drove.

“I’m Jane. What’s your name?” she asked, thinking if they were on a first-name basis, maybe she’d be less likely to kill her.

“Not that it matters, since we’ll both be dead if you don’t do exactly as I say, but it’s Carlin. I saw you on TV,” the woman said nonchalantly as Jane drove toward the naval base. “I bet that CS gas hurt, didn’t it?”

Carlin seemed calm enough at the moment, but Jane couldn’t help glancing down at the box in her lap. It looked so…ordinary. But if she’d been able to rig a tear gas bomb, Jane had no doubt she’d be able to make something more deadly.

Her palms were sweaty on the steering wheel, and she wanted nothing more than to send some sort of signal to Storm, who she knew was behind her, but she was scared the woman in the seat next to her would catch on and do something drastic. So she decided to just try to stay calm and do whatever was asked of her…at least for the time being.

“Yeah, it sucked,” Jane said honestly.

Carlin shrugged. “It wasn’t meant for you,” she somewhat apologized. “Rear Admiral Creasy was the one who was supposed to open it.”

“Why?” Jane asked simply.

“Because he’s an asshole!” she said. “He didn’t even think twice about kicking my husband out of the Navy. Simon worked his ass off, and he was helping those pathetic locals overseas. He’d never steal money from anyone. His commanders had everything all wrong, and when he tried to explain, they wouldn’t even listen! Kicked him out without breaking a sweat. Ruined his life—and mine.”

Jane blinked in surprise. She remembered Dag and Storm talking about Lieutenant Simon Sandburg. At the time, they’d thought the person who’d sent the bomb was him, but evidence was currently suggesting otherwise.

“I’m sorry,” Jane said, not sure what to say to seem both sympathetic and empathetic at the same time. “Sounds like you’ve had a hard time of it lately.”

“Damn straight I have,” Carlin said. “I’ve worked like a dog to keep things going, all the while trying to encourage Simon to find another job, to do something. But instead he spends all his time—and our spare money—at the bar, drowning his sorrows. I told him we could hire a lawyer, prove that he was innocent, and the money was given to him by people who were so thankful someone was helping them, but he refuses.”

Jane wanted to roll her eyes. Could she really be that stupid?