"So we're looking for a ghost," Rivera says.
"Not a ghost. Just someone very good at covering their tracks." The analyst closes the files. "We need a specialist. Someone who can dig deeper into the network architecture."
The Base Commander, who's been sitting quietly in the corner, speaks up. "I'll authorize whatever resources you need. NCIS has cyber specialists?"
"We do, but they're stretched thin. Multiple investigations." Rivera looks at me. "Captain, you have any contacts who specialize in this kind of thing?"
I think about my network. Most of my guys are boots on the ground, not keyboard warriors. But there's one name that comes to mind. Someone I worked with who, last I heard, was working in the private sector.
"Maybe. Let me make some calls."
The briefing wraps late afternoon. Gwen's exhausted, I can see it in the set of her shoulders. She's been answering questions for hours, maintaining that professional composure even as they pick apart every detail of her documentation.
"You did good today," I tell her as we walk to the truck.
"I just answered questions."
"You did more than that. You gave them everything they needed to build a case." I open her door. "Even Rivera was impressed. I could tell."
"Rivera doesn't look impressed by anything."
"Exactly."
We drive back to my place in comfortable silence. She leans her head against the window, watching the base slide past. I keep one hand on her thigh, thumb stroking absently.
"What are you thinking about?" I ask.
"How different my life was not so long ago." She covers my hand with hers. "I was living alone, working too much, avoiding any kind of relationship because it felt too complicated."
"And now?"
"Now I'm being protected by a grumpy Marine who thinks he's not sweet, working on a theft investigation, and sleeping in his bed." She turns to look at me. "It's a lot."
"Too much?"
"No. It's exactly right." She squeezes my hand. "Which is terrifying in its own way."
"Tell me about it."
At my place, I get food while she sits on the counter watching. Leftover Chinese because it's quick and I'm starving. She's wearing one of my shirts, stolen from the bedroom while I wasn't looking. It hits her mid-thigh, sleeves rolled up to her elbows.
"Domestic skills from a Marine," she observes. "Color me impressed."
"Someone had to cook in the barracks. Field rations get old fast. But I’m a sucker for a good Chinese takeout." I heat up the leftovers. "Suzy appreciated that I could cook; she couldn't cook to save her life."
"Do you think she'd approve of me?"
"She'd love you." I hand Gwen her plate. "She'd appreciate how you don't take any of my shit."
Gwen laughs. "High praise."
"It is." I lean against the counter beside her. "She'd probably have some choice words about how long it took me to make a move."
She sets down her fork, turning to face me fully. "You know this thing between us is happening really fast."
"I know."
"And we're in the middle of an investigation with people actively trying to hurt me."
