Gabe (In the Company of Snipers, #8)(27)



Most closets smelled musty, but this smelled of cedar and men’s aftershave or cologne. She sniffed the pleasant fragrance wishing she’d had the chance to meet Kelsey’s husband. Alex Stewart must’ve been quite the well-dressed gentleman. He’d smelled good, too.

Shelby took extra care putting Kelsey’s few things away. Gabe had questioned her about Kelsey’s clothes, and now that she had the chance to really check Kelsey’s blouse, she agreed. She couldn’t tell by the jeans Kelsey had worn because they looked like any other pair of jeans, but the blouse had definitely been washed and presses. Maybe dry-cleaned, not at all the condition one would expect after a near fatal drowning.

She lifted it up to her nose before she dropped it into the hamper. It still smelled of detergent or fabric softener. Not a hint of sweat. Certainly, not filthy river water. And it most definitely was the same pale violet shirt Kelsey had been wearing the morning she disappeared. Shelby prided herself on her attention to details like that. She knew her clients.

Shelby busied herself by refreshing the bathroom towels. She wiped all the bathroom surfaces down with an antiseptic cleaner and folded the corner of the comforter down on what appeared to be Kelsey’s side of the bed. The poor woman had to be worn out. Sleeping in her bed would help.

Matching lamps adorned both nightstands, but the alarm clocks were different. Kelsey’s was a combination radio, clock, and iPod. Mr. Stewart’s was a plain clock radio from Radio Shack. Interesting.

Finding Kelsey had renewed Shelby’s confidence. She might not have been the one who actually found her, but she’d taken pride in the search efforts she’d organized that had kept everyone looking.


It didn’t hurt that Kelsey now had two bodyguards, but that posed another problem. Shelby hadn’t realized they were both ex-military until she’d overheard Mark’s comment about deployments when he’d brought Kelsey home. That was one detail she wished she hadn’t missed.

Both Agents Lennox and Cartwright seemed to think they needed to keep not one, but two weapons tucked into leather holsters under their arms, another thing she took exception to. Army guys with guns. Not her favorite combination.

She should’ve known. She’d seen Agent Cartwright’s weapons tucked under his jacket out there on the river the day he’d explained about skid marks. And that was another thing. Who knew simple skid marks could reveal so much about the events of an accident?

Built of hard muscle and bone, he’d been on the rude side of helpful that morning, but more interesting was the reaction of her body to his. Rude or not, like it or not, the rush of warmth up her arm when he’d cupped her elbow didn’t go unnoticed. Neither did her inexplicable tendency to lean into that warm, solid body of his.

That had to stop, and stop it would. She had better sense than to get mixed up with the likes of him. She’d never been around guns, not with intellectuals for parents, her father a university professor, her mother a researcher at the Environmental Protection Agency. They’d raised their daughter correctly. If only the world were as smart as they were. There’d be no need for guns and killing. No soldiers. No wars.

Of all things, she, Shelby Sullivan an outspoken advocate of gun control, was now housed with two guys who’d no doubt killed men, women, and children while they were—wherever they’d been. If her mother could see her now, Penelope Sullivan would’ve been fit to be tied. She’d faithfully steered her children toward academics, and Shelby most of all.

If you have to marry, marry a doctor or a lawyer. Aim high. People who say money can’t buy everything don’t know how to shop. And for heaven’s sake, steer clear of guys in uniform. They’re trouble.

Shelby couldn’t stand to live with anyone who believed in war and killing. Nonetheless, she’d come here to do a job, and she wouldn’t let Kelsey down again. Kelsey was the important one in this household.

Only Kelsey.





Chapter Nine


“Hey, Whisper. Hey, Smoke. You guys need to stretch your legs?”

Whisper, a black German Shepherd, and Smoke, a silver Malinois, were quiet as Gabe entered Kelsey’s backyard through the driveway gate. He’d barely finished another sweep of the neighborhood while Zack attended to lunch. For Kelsey’s sake, this guard duty needed to go down as routine and uneventful. Sometimes, boring was damned good.

Located in a sedate, older area of Alexandria, the simple brick home fit Kelsey to a T, but for the life of him, Gabe couldn’t envision Alex living there. He’d always pictured his boss in a mansion with servants at his bidding, maybe a couples-only condo.

This little house with a covered carport instead of a four-stall, heated garage provided an entirely different perspective. Alex might have been master of the universe at work, but at home he was just—a guy. He probably raked his own leaves and weeded his own flowerbeds, too. Who’d have thought?

Unlatching the kennel gate, Gabe released the dogs for a run in the fenced backyard. He took off the light jacket he wore when carrying and draped it over the kennel gate. Neighbors didn’t know he was armed. At the sound of the back door opening, he looked up to Nurse Sullivan’s sour face, her lips in a tight disapproving line. What now?

“Come on out,” he called, hoping to start fresh with this prickly woman. “They won’t hurt you.”

She started across the yard. Sullivan couldn’t be all bad—not given the way she’d commandeered the search and rescue operation. Blonde and capable. A little on the tense side, though. She needed to loosen up. Maybe a good game of catch with the dogs would help.

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