Scott went into the bathroom and came out with a few tissues, which she made good use of.
He sat on the desk and looked down at her. “Why do I think this isn’t just about me? Wesson’s been giving you a hard time, hasn’t he?”
She looked away, avoiding his gaze. “He gives everyone a hard time. I’m nothing special.”
“Kate...” He had that impatient-father tone in his voice.
“I don’t want to talk about Colt. I want to talk about you.” She reached up and tugged on his short beard. “I’ve never seen you with a beard before. You look different.”
It roughened the edges of his patrician features, making him look a little more rugged and not so clean-cut Nantucket.
A wry smile turned his mouth. “That’s the point.”
“And your hair is darker.”
“A little help from Just For Men.”
She took in the blue button-down shirt and gray slacks—neither of which were tailored and hid his well-honed SEAL physique behind bad pleats and extra fabric. She knew from her marriage to Colt that muscular,broad-shouldered guys needed to have their shirts tailored or they would blouse when they were tucked in, making them look a little Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.
The pleated dad-pants didn’t help, although she suspected that was the intention. Scott looked like all the other slightly paunchy, out-of-state businessmen in this hotel.
Okay, well, maybe not quite like them. Even with the ill-fitting clothes, he was strikingly good-looking. Ken to her Barbie, Colt had once accused.“You look like fucking Ken and Barbie Country Club edition.”
It hadn’t been a compliment—especially with the nasty way in which he’d said it. But Colt had been half-right. They did look alike, but there never had been anything romantic between them. Only love and friendship forged from a deep, unexpected connection.
Scott grinned, obviously taking in her scrutiny. “You like the outfit? It’s not Savile Row.”
She snorted. Like her, Scott was always impeccably dressed. She knew he had more than one bespoke suit from England. His wealth made hers look like pocket change. But most of the time he ignored it. It had brought him comfort, but not happiness. Only guilt. “Definitely not, but it does the job.” She paused. “Now, tell me what’s going on. Why are you here?”
“We have a lead. I told you about the reporter being attacked in Norway. Well, it doesn’t look like a coincidence. Her place in DC was ransacked. We’re setting up a sting to see if we can lure whoever is responsible out.”
Kate muttered a curse under her breath. “Brittany? I found out who was feeding her information.”
“You did?”
She nodded and filled him in. He swore a few times, but she wasn’t sure whether he was angry or pleased. She suspected a little of both. Her godfather’s interference had definitely made things harder on him, but he’d alsobeen the only one willing to stick up for them and not let their sacrifice be swept under the rug.
She also filled him in on the rear admiral’s suicide and what they’d learned from her godfather that made his involvement seem unlikely.
When she mentioned the woman in Iowa, he looked 100 percent angry again. “That was Jim Bob’s high school girlfriend.” At her look of confusion, he said, “Travis Hart. One of the young guys who made it out with us. Apparently it wasn’t as over as he led everyone to believe. You think someone in the government paid her off to keep her quiet?”
“Sounds that way, but I’ll look into it when I get a chance.” She suspected Colt was ahead of her on that.
Then she got to the difficult part. The part she wasn’t looking forward to. “My godfather said something else.”
Scott gave her a sharp look, something in her voice obviously alerting him. “Yeah? What’s that?”
She took a deep breath. “It was about Natalie.”
A look of acute pain crossed his grim-set features. But suddenly his expression filled with alarm, and he swore. “Does he know about the text? Does he know she warned us?” His voice lowered. “Not that it really makes a difference now.”
“No. At least I don’t think he knows about that. But with my godfather you never know. He worked in intelligence a long time before joining the Chiefs of Staff.” She paused, the biting of her lip betraying her anxiousness. “He said she was adopted when she was a child and that her real name was Natalya Petrova.”
It didn’t take him long to process the significance, and when he did his face darkened with rage. “No fucking way. Whatever it is you are thinking, it’s way off base. Nat didn’t have anything to do with this. She warned me, for fuck’s sake. She saved my life and five other men’s lives. I don’t care what her name was. She was bornsomewhere else. So what? A lot of people were. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s a coincidence.”
“All right,” Kate said quietly, knowing he was too angry and too shocked to think rationally right now. He was right, but this was too big a coincidence to discount.
“I mean it, Katie. Leave her out of this.”
