The Men In Uniform Collection. Barbara McMahon

      Her look was more suspicious than grateful.

      “You had questions?” he asked.

      She went to the fridge and got out her low-fat milk, then to the cupboard for a packet of sugar substitute. When the coffee was to her liking, she sat down across from him. “Tell me about you and Nate.”

      “We met at Fort Bragg. We’d both been recruited into the First Special Forces Operational Detachment, and we trained together. He became a team leader, I was the radioman. There were four of us, basically, and some UN personnel. We were all together in that picture I showed you. We did a lot of hairy missions. Never lost a man. Never fell short of the objective.”

      “Nate would never tell me what he did. Just that he was working for God and country.”

      Boone could hear him say just that. In bars, mostly, when he was trying to impress the ladies. As if he’d needed a line. The women fell all over him. Not that Boone had done so badly, but he’d never been the magnet Nate was.

      “Why are you smiling?”

      He hadn’t realized he was. “Just remembering.”

      Christie leaned forward, and he could see the hunger in her eyes. The need to hear about her brother, lost so young.

      “He was hell on wheels when we were out of pocket. It didn’t matter where we were. D.C. or Kenya or Panama. He’d own the room before we left, and leave them wanting.”

      She bit her lower lip, and he wasn’t sure if it was to stop from laughing or crying.

      “I can’t tell you how many times he’d fall back into his cot at three in the morning, totally AWOL, drunker than shit, then get up an hour later and outrun the whole team on the obstacle course. I still don’t know how he did it.”

      “God, he was just like that at home. Not the drinking part, he was too young, but he was always sneaking out of the house, and he never got caught. I ditch one day of school, and I’m on restriction for life.”

      “Sounds right.” He drank some coffee, more for the distance than the taste. He wasn’t here to get nostalgic and emotional. In fact, the last thing he needed was to care about anything but the job. He’d need to be on his game, and there was nothing that screwed up a man faster than letting his defenses down. “He talked about you.”

      “Yeah?”

      Boone nodded. “He worried about you. But he was proud. Real proud.”

      She turned to look at Milo for a long minute. The dog wagged his tail at the attention, then came to her for a pet. “He was a great brother, until a couple of years ago. Then, I don’t know.” She looked at Boone again. “He changed. He got paranoid, and he hardly ever called. When he did, he wouldn’t tell me squat. Just that he was in the middle of something. I only saw him the one time—”

      She stood up and put her mug in the microwave. “What were you guys doing in Kosovo?”

      “I can’t tell you that.”

      “Great. That’s just perfect. And I’m supposed to trust you with my life?”

      “Yeah, you are. And I’d hope you’d realize that my silence, Nate’s silence, was for your protection.”

      “Spy central. Jesus. Don’t you know your big-boy games can get people killed?”

      “Yeah. I know. But that’s not the issue now. What’s on the table is the stalker and how we’re going to stop him.”

      “Wait.” The microwave dinged and she came back to the table with the steaming coffee. “I’m not finished with the question portion. What’s with the pizza parlor?”

      Boone bit back his impatience. She was scared, she didn’t know him from Adam and he needed to make her trust him. “It’s got a special phone. One that monitors calls from the old team. Just in case.”

      “In case what?”

      “Things didn’t exactly end for any of us. Not for Nate, not for me. We needed a way to communicate with each other that wouldn’t get us noticed. So we have Gino’s.”

      “Didn’t end? You mean something bad went down in Kosovo, don’t you? Something that shouldn’t have happened. And someone isn’t happy about it, right? That’s why Nate left the service. That’s why he was killed.”

      Boone nodded.

      “Great. Are the feds going to bust in here and arrest us both? Because, while it would solve the stalker problem, it doesn’t seem like the best possible outcome.”

      “Now I really know you’re Nate’s sister. Don’t worry. No one knows I’m here. No one’s going to. And while this has been fascinating, we have work to do.”

      “What kind of work?”

      He leaned forward, glad the Q & A was over, although a little surprised she hadn’t pressed for more. “I’ve written an e-mail I want you to send. The geek installed key-logging software on your computer, and I want to use that.”

      “Wait, what?”

      “Do you know what key-logging is?”

      “Yeah. It’s for wives who want to spy on their husbands.”

      “And for stalkers who want to spy on their victims.”

      She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, her brown eyes were serious and determined. “Fine. Whatever it takes. I want him taken out.”

      “Can you use that gun of yours?”

      “Well enough.”

      “You hadn’t released the safety. When you came to shoot me in the hall.”

      “Oh.”

      “Can you defend yourself, hand-to-hand?”

      She lifted that right eyebrow of hers, and he had to admit, even with all that had gone down with her, she was still a great-looking woman. Too bad this was work.

      “You will.” He stood up, took his cup to the sink and rinsed it out. “I want to do that e-mail, then we’re going to the store. From today on, you eat, and you eat well.” He turned and gave her his no-excuses glare. “You’ll sleep, too. But mostly, you’re going to do everything I say. Got it?”

      TOUCHING THE COMPUTER WASN’T easy. Just knowing he’d been there. That he’d been monitoring every single keystroke. Looking at the sites she’d visited, checking out her Google searches. It made her skin crawl.

      It helped that Boone was right next to her, although that wasn’t all peaches and cream, either. Yeah, she needed the help, but doing everything he said? That was a bit much.

      Then again, her options were pretty damn narrow. “Okay, who do I send it to?”

      He gave her an address that seemed ordinary enough. And he scooted his chair closer. So close, his thigh brushed against the side of her butt. In a move both uncharacteristic and slightly humiliating, she felt her cheeks fill with heat. She concentrated on the typing.

      “Ready?” he asked.

      She nodded.

      “Hi, Gina,” he said, waiting for her to type the words. “Guess who’s back? Boone is here and he’s going to take care of everything. That problem I told you about is going to be resolved soon. Anyway, don’t worry, it’s under control. I’ll call you as soon as things are back to normal here. Take care, Christie.”

      She finished it up, then waited for the word to hit Send.

      Boone nodded, and she hit the key, knowing the bastard was reading about his own demise.

      “Why are we sending this?” she asked.

      “To get him to move