Page 10 of SEAL’s Paradise (Alpha SEALs Hawaii #6)
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R ILEY MOVED THROUGH the crowd at Coconuts Monday evening, her eyes landing on the familiar group of military men hanging out at the bar.
Their loud laughter filled the area, but she watched them with a critical eye.
Some of them had been on her original list of possibilities of the man involved in the illegal arms trade, in addition to Sawyer, and she needed to figure out if one of them could be the guilty party.
She’d wasted precious time following Sawyer around, incorrectly suspecting that it was him.
Had her perception been skewed by her attraction to him?
Riley was usually able to look at situations in a professional, unbiased matter.
To observe and analyze, not rush to judgment.
Yet from the moment she’d first spotted Sawyer, she’d been drawn to him, and she’d hated it because he’d seemed like such an arrogant womanizer, the type of man she’d never be with.
Had she wanted the traitor to be Sawyer just so she could label him as the bad guy?
She was losing her edge, if that was the case. Going soft. Emotions didn’t matter in this business—finding the enemy did.
Riley ran over the original intercepts in her mind, the intelligence she’d gotten about the man selling out his country.
The buyer had initially met the traitor right here in Oahu.
At Coconuts of all places. The job had practically fallen into her lap—and if she’d been more intuitive, maybe she could’ve stopped this entire mess before it began.
The first missiles were long gone, however, and she’d do whatever she needed to in order to stop the sale of more.
There’d been a new intercepted message early this morning, passed on to her through her DOD contact.
Fortunately, she’d been able to switch her schedule around at Coconuts and work tonight.
This was her chance to find the man who’d been in contact with the buyer, and she’d be a fool to mess up this golden opportunity.
Slip him the address tonight so he can collect a partial payment in advance.
Look for stripes and whiskers.
Stripes and whiskers.
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
All of the military men were usually clean shaven or with no more than a five o’clock shadow during the work week.
And stripes? Well, that could narrow it down some, she supposed, if one of the suspects walked in wearing something obvious.
That was the trouble though—Riley doubted anything about it would be obvious.
Besides that, who was slipping the traitor an address?
Not the buyer, given that he’d already met the guy.
He wouldn’t need a description of the man to meet him here, and she doubted he’d risk flying back to an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean when they could communicate through encrypted messages.
No doubt there could be a hired messenger, a man or woman otherwise uninvolved in the cash for arms scheme and potential terror plot.
Nerves skittered through her.
She needed to focus on waitressing and keep her ear to the ground.
Figure out what was going on. And if that wasn’t enough to worry about, Sawyer was coming over later.
They’d spent an hour together Saturday evening back at her place, Riley filling him in on the specifics of exactly what she knew so far.
She’d been shocked when he’d suggested a phony marriage, but in a way, it worked.
She’d get an ID and be able to drive into parts of base without question.
It would speed up her investigation, especially if he got deployed on an op.
She could fade into the background and search for what she needed.
Riley was skilled in collecting information, being who she needed to be.
She’d run assets overseas as a government employee.
Spied for her country—gathered intelligence and gotten the job done.
The idea of marrying Sawyer was somewhat preposterous, except it would benefit them both.
She was short on time and running out of ideas.
Working alone was a far cry from her government days, when she had endless resources at her disposal.
With Radley potentially joining up with a new organization, that would change both of their circumstances.
But in the meantime?
Riley was on her own.
She was putting Sawyer at risk if she married him.
He had to realize that as well. Suppose she snooped around base as his new wife and was spotted.
Questioned. She was skilled at what she did, but if she’d learned one thing, it was to also plan for the worst-case scenario.
Riley being caught where she shouldn’t be wouldn’t look good for him.
He could be suspended from his SEAL team—benched while they investigated what was happening.
Of course, a screw-up such as that would blow her own operation as well.
Riley’s DOD contact didn’t want the brass on base involved with this yet, which is exactly how it had fallen into her lap.
That led to further questions. Was someone higher-up involved? It could explain the cover up, with no alarm bells sounding about a missing U.S. missile or two. Surely someone must’ve noticed by now, but there’d been nothing but radio silence from the Navy.
She glanced at her phone again, looking at the intercepted message from this morning. Riley wasn’t sure what the address in the intercept related to. The previous transactions were wired payments, sent to offshore, untraceable accounts. What type of partial payment was being offered tonight?
There was something off about the entire exchange, and she felt like she was missing something. Something obvious.
Riley ran orders for the next several hours, keeping a close eye on the sailors hanging out at the bar.
Two of the guys were similar in build to Sawyer and among the original possibilities she’d floated when searching for the traitor who frequented the bar.
These two men weren’t in Coconuts as often as Sawyer and his teammates were, however, which made her hesitate to think it was them.
There were only a couple of other regulars who fit the description, and none of them were here this evening. Yet.
If a messenger was coming this evening, would the traitor definitely be here as well?
Frustrated, she cleared a table and carried the dirty dishes back behind the bar, heading toward the kitchen.
She really needed a vantage point out there.
She could very well miss whoever was handing off a message by going back and forth between the kitchen and restaurant and tending to her customers.
Riley had figured she’d seem more inconspicuous by changing her schedule and working tonight, but sitting at the bar nursing a drink or two might’ve worked better.
Except that was out of character for her persona as a waitress. She never hung out here when she wasn’t working, and perhaps that had been the wrong play.
She cast one last look at the military men she’d been keeping an eye on tonight.
“Riley,” the bartender said, shooting her a look.
“Let me know if those guys give you any trouble.” He nodded to his left, and Riley’s gaze landed on the men she’d been watching all evening.
No doubt the bartender had his own ideas about why she’d been keeping tabs on them.
He’d have no clue as to the real reason she’d been eyeing them warily.
“Will do, thanks,” she said, disappearing into the back kitchen with her heavy load.
The door swung shut behind her, and the scent of freshly grilled food and grease filled the air.
Her stomach rumbled as she moved through the busy, crowded space.
She’d get a break in another thirty minutes, but on nights she worked, Riley usually ate a late dinner after her shift ended.
It was probably a bad habit to eat right before bed, but she’d grown used to her strange schedule while here on the island.
She maneuvered around a waiter heading the opposite direction and set her own load down on an empty counter, instantly feeling the relief in her arms and shoulders.
It had surprised her how much hustle and muscle were involved in waitressing.
She’d caught on quickly, efficiently working and blending in with the other wait staff.
That didn’t mean it was a cushy job though.
She worked hard for her wage and tips. And she was getting paid handsomely for the real work she was here in Oahu for.
Her stomach did a funny little flip at the thought of Sawyer coming by her place later.
They had a number of details to go over in regard to pulling this off and making things official.
Except they really would have to go through with a sham ceremony.
Get a marriage license. A real marriage certificate, signed by an officiant.
And how would the “marriage” itself work, anyway?
Would they live together? It was hard to imagine seeing Sawyer first thing in the morning—all rumpled from sleep, that dark, sexy stubble on his jaw.
She swallowed. It’s not like they’d have to literally sleep together.
But what if he wanted to move in with her temporarily? Despite the fact that she’d made up a story about being a single mom, her place was a one-bedroom unit.
Nerves skittered through her once more.
Riley was attracted to Sawyer, sure, but having sex with her fake husband wasn’t exactly going to keep things simple. It would only complicate matters all the more when they eventually parted ways and continued on their separate paths in life.