“What the hell did he leave for then?” Blake asked.
“It’s a good question. The investigators believe he was supposed to take the admiral. Although one NCIS agent was shot immediately, others whisked Admiral Rice and Evelyn off to temporary safety. It’s possible the driver of the boat got spooked and left. The Coast Guard was immediately going after the yacht.”
“So it was a botched kidnapping,” Troy said.
“That’s a possibility. One of the gunmen jumped overboard after your team breached the ship. It’s possible he was holding onto the IDs or that they stashed them somewhere—or on someone—and they haven’t been found.”
“You think one of the hostages has the IDs and doesn’t know it?” Troy asked with a frown.
“They could potentially use them to get on base,” Jackson said, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “Someone could change their appearance to look like one of the naval officers or they could attempt to alter the identification cards.”
“Affirmative. They could try to breach our base security or another military installation. We don’t know if they have the IDs though. Admiral Rice is furious that this incident continues to drag on. Of course, he’s mortified for his daughter, but that is secondary to national security. She’s not in physical danger.”
“Just a hell of a lot of embarrassment,” Troy said.
“They could claim the photos were photoshopped,” Jackson said.
“Exactly. Nowadays, you can’t always believe what’s online. Although she admitted they were hers, the family is dealing with that in their own way. They can make a statement if they get leaked. It’s a separate matter. In the meantime, security will be stepped up on base.”
“What a clusterfuck,” Troy muttered.
“And on that happy note, we’ve got some other issues that have sprung up.” The CO began to brief them on several other incidents that were unfolding, and Troy tried to keep his focus. He couldn’t help but think Caitlyn was somehow in danger because of this, which was nuts. The yacht hijacking had been nearly a month ago. She hadn’t noticed anything suspicious at her office. They’d been spending their weekends together, and he’d talked to her on the phone every night.
Troy still felt uneasy though. What if she was in danger and they didn’t even know it?
Chapter 17
Caitlyn frowned as she looked through all the missed calls on her office phone that morning. It was normal to get a couple wrong numbers, but it looked like someone had been calling her office every thirty minutes for hours. Yet she had no messages.
Shaking her head, she logged in to her computer and looked through her emails. There were no unusual messages. Her coffee finished brewing, and she stood, walking over to pour herself a cup. Troy had been amused that she liked hot coffee first thing, but what could she say? She liked what she liked.
Her gaze tracked to her door as she took a sip, making sure she’d locked it. All those missed calls were making her feel jumpy for some reason. She hadn’t spoken to any of the investigators in weeks, and aside from Troy telling her about the missing identification cards yesterday, she hadn’t even heard any updates.
Crossing back to her desk, she sank down in her chair. She’d gotten in later than usual today—no thanks to Troy waking her up at five a.m. He’d kissed her softly all over, slowly waking her up before he made slow, sweet love to her. It was different than their frantic joining over the weekend. After she’d ridden him to ecstasy Saturday night, he’d woken her the following morning and made love to her twice more. Followed by another round in the shower. She’d been sore after not being with a man in so long, and he’d been extra gentle with her last night and this morning.
Goodness. Her cheeks heated just thinking about all the times she’d cried out his name. Troy wasn’t shy in the least, but he was always careful to make sure she liked whatever they were doing.
Her office phone rang, and looking at the time, she realized it was exactly thirty minutes from the last missed call. “Caitlyn’s Event Planning,” she said as she answered. “How may I help you?”
“Hi, what are your hours?” a man asked.
“Um, nine to five. Would you like to set up an appointment?”
“How late are you there today?” he asked impatiently.
Caitlyn wanted to roll her eyes. She’d literally just told the caller her business hours. “Until five. What type of event are you interested in planning? We can schedule something and see if I can be of assistance.”
“A party. Let’s set something up for tomorrow. I’ll call you then to make arrangements.”
He disconnected the call, and she resisted the urge to groan. Flaky people like that were the worst. She supposed any business probably got calls with people asking random questions or not understanding the concept of setting up an appointment ahead of time. Hadn’t Harper dealt with demanding brides like that? They didn’t want to schedule an appointment; they wanted help immediately. As if their wedding was the most important thing in the world.
Grabbing her cell phone, she called Harper. She still hadn’t found out what the deal with Harper and Logan had been yesterday. Although she’d texted her best friend to make sure she was okay, Harper had simply responded that they’d talk later and to enjoy her night with Troy.
Harper answered on the third ring. “Tell me you had a good night with that gorgeous man of yours,” she said.
Caitlyn laughed despite herself. “I did, aside from you ditching us at dinner. Want to tell me what that was about? You and Logan talked for two point three seconds before looking like you wanted to kill
