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“Guy’s a wimp, afraid to take a chance,” Owen grumbled. “And he’s not seeing you clearly or your work. He doesn’t get that you’re an amazing reporter.”
She was just amazing in every way. He wished he could convince her of that because she seemed a little defeated by her conversation with Jude. She’d been riding a high after the interview, and now had come crashing down.
“I’m glad someone thinks so. But anyway, I don’t want to fight with you about Jude.” She turned back to her laptop. “I need to find another angle for this story. Something that I can substantiate. Something that doesn’t lead to a dead end.”
“Let’s go for a walk.” He reached for her hand. “We’ve been cooped up in here for hours. Exercise and fresh air will help you think, and I’ll be your sounding board. Bounce anything off me.”
“Does that include sticks and pine cones?” she asked, and he was glad to see a little of her fire returning.
“If that’ll help you, yes,” he agreed. He’d gladly take a few hits for her. Whatever she could dish out, he’d take if it meant he got a smile now and then.
They stepped outside into the evening air. It had cooled off and was almost chilly. “Hang on,” he said and ducked back inside. He returned with a sweatshirt for her—his favorite Navy one. It was old and fraying at the cuffs, but he loved it. Loved it more when she slipped it over her head and rolled the sleeves back.
“You know, I have sweaters, too,” she said. “You could have grabbed one of those.”
“This is a good one.” He straightened it across her shoulders. “It has positive vibes. Guaranteed to help you come up with a brilliant idea.”
“A magic sweatshirt?” her voice was light and teasing.
“Exactly, and I like how it looks on you.” He leaned in and kissed her, lingering for just a minute with his lips on hers. He’d been wanting to do that all day, but the timing hadn’t been right. He considered coaxing her back inside and making love to her until she couldn’t remember that she was writing a story. That would be a challenge he’d gladly accept. Unfortunately, it wasn’t what she needed. “Let’s take the trail that leads to the overlook. We should be able to catch the last of the sunset from there.”
They made their way through the forest to the spot where the rocky outcropping was bathed in golden light. To the west the sun was sinking into the horizon. Sophie stretched her arms overhead and bent forward in a yoga pose he’d seen people do. He didn’t speak, just let her be. She did a few more poses before coming to sit next to him on a smooth rock.
“Thanks for bringing me here.” She seemed refreshed by the open air. “You were right. It’s what I needed. I can think now.”
“I’ve been wondering about Wilson’s visit to the port,” Owen said. That was the part of the interview that caught his attention the most. “Is there some way you could verify he was there? It doesn’t sound like Razor’s pictures included Wilson, but maybe there were other cameras around. That would prove what Razor said, right?”
She thought about that for a moment. “It would. The port has security footage showing who came and went, I assume. Depending on how many cameras they have, it might even show Wilson bribing the customs agent. Wilson would be subtle. He’s sneaky as hell, but it’s possible that something is on film. The problem is getting access to that footage.”
“Can you request it through public records?”
“I can,” she said. “But all the port authority has to say is that they won’t share due to national security, and I’m sure any judge in the state would back them up on that. Ports are highly protected.”
He’d seen that during his time with the SEALs. He’d disrupted a few ports and protected others. The officials who worked in those places were supposed to be above reproach, though. That didn’t seem to be the case here.
“Besides, Wilson might catch wind of it through his contact at the port. He’s not above bribing someone to destroy the security footage, and we don’t know just how big his web is.”
“My research suggests it’s extensive.” The drug distribution end of Wilson’s business was far reaching, going beyond the confines of Virginia Beach and into other cities and rural areas. “Okay. It might be a place to start. We’ll come back to it. For now, let’s put it all aside and just watch the sunset.” He put his arms around her, liking the feel of her as she leaned back against him, with their faces angled toward the west.
It was a peaceful moment, a little romantic even, and he enjoyed sharing it with her. The truth was he just liked being with her and that included when she was mad at him or they were fighting. It most definitely included when they were making love.
The last of the sun’s glow was fading before she turned toward him and spoke. “Micky might be able to help with the port. He’s got connections.”
“Wilson has no idea who Micky is, right?” he asked.
“That he’s Helen’s father? I doubt it. Her parents go to museum events, of course, to support her. Helen’s told me that if Wilson is at those at all, he’s only paying attention to the board members and big benefactors. I’m not worried about Wilson making the connection, but I promised Helen I wouldn’t involve her dad. I asked her again the other day and got a firm no.”
Owen couldn’t help thinking that the stakes had changed since that conversation. They were quickly running out of avenues of investigation while Wilson continued to bring drugs into the country. In the meantime, Sophie’s, Helen’s, and Julia’s lives were stuck in limbo. “Maybe it’s time to override her objection.”
Sophie winced. “I hate to do that to her. She’s my best friend. With everything that’s going on with Wilson, plus the pregnancy, I don’t want to pile on more stress.”
“Ethan’ll look out for her.” His buddy was so happy to have his wife back and to know that his marriage was strong that he’d do anything for Helen and their unborn child.
“I know he will. I just…” She tilted her face up to his.
“You worry about her, and she worries about you. That’s what friends do. Do you remember early in the investigation when you didn’t want my protection and Helen overrode your objection?” He’d spent several nights watching over Sophie while she met with known drug dealers as she worked her way from the street level back to Wilson, trying to make the connections.
“You followed me around, ostensibly keeping your distance, but staying close enough that I knew you were there and that you had my back. I never thanked you for that, did I? It’s belated, but thanks for keeping me safe when I was too pigheaded to accept help.”
