Expired Cache - Lisa Phillips Page 0,39
the photo. She studied the image. Six men. How many were still alive? Her grandfather was the oldest out of them, a Lieutenant according to his shirt sleeves. The rest wore tank tops. Rifles and dog tags. Lounging against the Jeep in the Vietnamese sun.
She turned it over to read what had been written on the back. Last Chance Boys.
The first time she read the words, it sounded in her head like a threat. Like, “This is your last chance.” She shook her head. No, it was more likely that each of them had been local. Guys who grew up together and found themselves on the other side of the world fighting a war side by side.
But the town hadn’t been founded until after Vietnam.
It didn’t make sense.
One looked to be barely out of high school. The rest were college age. One had a cocky smile. None of them, save her grandfather, was familiar. Had Dean recognized someone in the photo or was it simply a reaction to the memory of being at war?
Dean was so low key about his path as a Navy SEAL that she wouldn’t even have known he’d been one. Not if several other people hadn’t told her. She didn’t think that was about shame. More that he was simply the kind of person who didn’t need anyone’s approval or their thanks.
He just did the right thing. On his terms.
Ellie took the photo to the desk and turned on her grandfather’s computer. His printer scanned in the image. She watched it load and tried to figure out how she would get the names of these men. Through local means or some kind of military information service. There had to be a way to find the history, the way people looked up who their ancestors were.
She saw him in the doorway. “Maybe you should knock, or at least announce yourself.”
He frowned.
She didn’t want him to think she was mad at being disturbed, so she said, “Because mere mortals usually make noise when we move. So if you’re going to go all superhero on me, maybe you could let me know you’re in the room somehow.”
“The coffee is doing its thing.”
“Great. Thanks.”
He sat back on the couch while she did some web searches. He pulled out a tablet from the backpack he’d brought in.
Despite what she’d said about him needing to let her know he was standing there, she was now completely aware of him. In an elemental sort of way, he was completely distracting to her concentration.
If Ellie was going to figure this out, she really did need someone to watch her back. But did it have to be a hot guy she had a crush on?
That got you in trouble before.
She bit her lip hard enough to make it hurt. Ellie had to find out what her grandfather wanted her to know, and she had to stay alive and healthy enough to do that. Dean’s presence couldn’t and shouldn’t be a distraction. After all, getting swept up in her feelings had resulted in her being hurt before. Every single time.
What was the point in going through that all over again?
Not that she thought he was the kind of guy who would even think about assaulting a woman. No like the other one had done. She even shook her head, though she said nothing. Of course Dean wouldn’t do that. But she wasn’t ever going to stop being careful. Ellie would never again let her feelings compromise her judgment.
“You okay?”
She glanced at him. “Huh?”
“Is everything all right?”
“Oh, yes. Lots to do, that’s all.” She tried to smile, but the past had come too close. All that stuff she’d moved on from and put away? It was a lot closer now. Near enough she could feel it crawl up her throat.
She stared at the monitor until her eyes burned, trying to remember what she was going to do online.
“Nothing happening at the cabin.”
“Oh?” She looked over, blinking away the sting. “You can tell from your tablet?”
“Jessica gave me the Wi-Fi password.” It beeped in his hand. He swiped the screen, then said, “I have to make a call.”
But he didn’t leave her. And she was grateful for it.
Ellie could pretend for a moment that she was working, when what she was actually doing was reassuring herself that someone capable was here to watch out for her. You took self-defense. But that didn’t protect her from rifle bullets. SEAL training hadn’t even protected Dean from that winch.
“Yeah, hey.” His