Gabe (Special Forces - Operation Alpha) - Riley Edwards Page 0,42

I’ll act like an asshole again—”

“Why do you always want me to eat?”

I hadn’t planned on bringing it up but since he opened the door I wasn’t going to miss my opportunity to ask.

A cloud of discomfort surrounded Gabe until it turned into a maelstrom of ugly emotions that filled the room.

“Um…forget I asked.” My hands went up in a way that couldn’t be mistaken as anything but surrender.

Because suddenly I didn’t want to know. Not with the profound sadness now rolling off of Gabe and slicing me to shreds. Yes, just the grief-stricken expression in his eyes cut deep.

Air whistled as Gabe exhaled, an outward sign he was relieved at my dismissal of the question.

“We better get to the office.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried,” I offered.

“I was a dick, you have every right to question me. With that said, I’m also an asshole. So if you give me an out I’m gonna take it.”

And with that, he walked to the door and opened it. My mind spun as I moved through the garage and got into his car. It was no less scrambled when he navigated the streets to the office.

Would he have answered me if I hadn’t taken back my question?

Did I lose my chance?

I figured the answer to both of those questions was yes. But I couldn’t get over his sadness. As much as I was curious I didn’t want to cause Gabe pain.

“What’s your thoughts on Aaron Cardon?” Gabe broke the silence.

“I think Owen’s on to something. His profile’s too clean. But something else that struck me as strange was the accident report. Of course, I’ve never read an AAIIB inquiry before. I assume the investigation board is similar to the National Transportation Safety Board here in the States. And it’s my understanding the NTSB takes more than forty-eight hours to complete an investigation.”

“You’d be correct.”

“Sometimes my imagination gets the better of me,” I admitted. “I’m a reporter and being such I’m supposed to report only the facts. But there are times when the facts don’t add up and when I examine them closer and find gaps, I automatically see cover-up instead of what could be completely innocuous.”

“What you call imagination, I call intuition. And you should always follow it. Part of investigating a case is questioning the evidence even if you’re the one who found it. You’ve got good instincts, Evette. Follow them.”

His compliment hit me square in the chest and stole my breath.

“You really think that?”

I didn’t care if I sounded like a fool for fishing. My self-esteem had been in the gutter ever since I screwed up and looked into Abrams. I’d made a thousand rookie mistakes that had landed me in hot water. So what if I needed a pick-me-up?

“I do,” he confirmed. “You’re smart and intuitive. You picked up on a thread and pulled until it started to unravel. And your assessment of the accident report is spot on. There’s no way the Cyprus Aircraft Accident and Incident Investigation Board could’ve completed a thorough survey of the accident site in two days. It’s simply impossible. According to the report, the plane exploded right before it hit the water. Collecting the wreckage would’ve taken longer than that. What’s surprising is the insurance company accepted the report and paid out.”

I hadn’t thought about the insurance companies. Surely the payout on a Cessna Citation would’ve been hefty. Then there was the money paid to the families of the six passengers on board. Accordion Textiles, the company Aaron worked for, didn’t pay out of pocket.

“I hadn’t thought about that. Do you think it was an act of terrorism?”

“Don’t know. The plane was headed to Turkey. All passengers were US citizens. But if it was terrorism, no one claimed the hit.”

“So probably not,” I surmised.

“Probably not,” Gabe confirmed.

The Naval Academy came into sight and I was riveted. I’d never seen the campus lit up at night. The way the lights reflected and danced on the Severn River.

“Wow.”

Gabe glanced in my direction and smiled but he let me soak in the beauty of the golden hue in silence. It wasn’t until we were over the bridge did he speak.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen it lit up at night.”

“When this is over we’ll have dinner at my place. I’ve got a great view of the bridge and the Naval Academy.”

Suddenly my mood plummeted.

When this is over.

What that really meant was—before you go back to your lonely life.

“So you…um…live around here then?”

God, I sounded stupid. He

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