All Due Respect Read online

  “Good. I’ll be in touch.” Seth turned and walked toward the parking lot.

  Julia watched him go, unsure if his asking twice about Karl meant Seth knew what happened or he was fishing to find out. If she asked, he would tell her. Seth never lied. But she didn’t want that Pandora’s box opened. And maybe that wasn’t what had her uneasy. Maybe it was the angle of his head or the stillness in him, getting to her. Maybe it was because he had delivered the news about the Rogue she had helped design now being in hostile hands or the possible corruption on Home Base, a project not yet even developed. Or it could be that tidbit about terrorists using flashlights to house explosives.

  Or it could be just the man himself.

  Damn it, it could be. He was special. He always had been special, and that made him dangerous.

  In the last three years, she had come a long way on the road back to becoming more of her old self. A very long way. But she hadn’t come far enough, or remained innocent or unchanged by her experiences enough, to risk trusting another man.

  Not even Seth.

  Men with good intentions could get you killed just as fast as those with bad intentions. And it was all but impossible to tell the difference between them. Hadn’t she married Karl Hyde believing he was a good man? A really good man? Hadn’t he seemed kind and gentle and loving—all the things she wanted in a husband? And hadn’t her experience with him proven that any man could deceive any woman he chose to deceive?

  It had. Karl had seemed all those good things and more, and he had ended up being a heartless bastard with a black soul. He’d ended up in jail. And, thanks to him, she had barely escaped with her life, and she was still being threatened.

  Those truths made the bottom line with any man the same. Give him your trust, and odds are good you’ll end up dead.

  That was a lesson learned she would never forget. And it applied even to Seth Holt.

  Chapter Two

  A week later, Seth sat in his office as perplexed about what had triggered the massive changes in Julia’s life as he had been before he had gone to Grace.

  All his life, he had done his damnedest to avoid asking for favors, but he had searched for her on his own since she’d left, and he had failed to find her. When he had noted irregularities on the project, he’d had no choice but to go to the OSI, meet with Agent 12, and ask for his help to locate her.

  Though neither publicly acknowledged it, Seth and Agent 12 had a history. Before Seth had left active duty in the Air Force and had gone civilian to work in the lab, he and Agent 12, who had been Lieutenant Colonel Matthew Grant back then, had worked in Special Forces together. Because the Rogue was loose and in hostile hands, and because Seth had invoked the crunch-time code they had used on covert operations in critical circumstances, Matthew had agreed that Julia could be trusted and they needed her to help Seth save their asses, and he had told Seth where to find her: Grace, Alabama.

  Julia, teaching first grade in a tiny gulf coast town that didn’t warrant a pinprick on most maps and could never offer her the opportunities she’d had in his lab.

  Seth cranked back in his chair and lifted his feet to the corner of his desk. She had often surprised him, but this move confounded him. Julia was bright; a genius gifted with common sense and vision. Reserved, in a way, and beautiful, though she had never been a wrench-your-neck-looking-at-her kind of woman. She was too serious, smiled too seldom for that. But she had this way of making a man feel important, strong and weak at the same time. By the time he figured out she was strong and vulnerable, she’d snagged him. And she’d snagged plenty. Half his engineers, contractors, and all of the guys in the lab had been crazy about her. Oddly enough, the other women hadn’t seemed envious. They had been protective of her. Seth never had figured that out.

  Now, she had the same somber brown eyes. The same sleek, stubborn chin, and chestnut-brown hair the sun streaked gold—every bit as beautiful as the day she had last walked out of his lab—but for someone miserable enough to leave the research-and-development work she loved to “pursue other professional endeavors,” she hadn’t seemed a damn bit happier. Less rigid, but no happier. And if she wasn’t happier, then why had she left?

  And why had she nearly gone into cardiac arrest when she had seen him on the beach? She’d looked . . . haunted.

  Too much just didn’t make sense. Matthew had access to Julia’s Intel reports and would have enlightened Seth, but his commander nixed that by reclassifying her file Eyes Only. Seth couldn’t slot the logic for that smooth move, and Matthew couldn’t explain, but Julia had been distant and secretive at Grace. Actually, she had been damn scared. She had never been afraid of Seth, and he didn’t like her being afraid of him now. What triggered her fear?

  One thing was clear. Speculating wouldn’t give him any answers . . . but talking to her might. It was worth a shot. He lifted the phone and dialed her number.

  She answered on the third ring. “Hello.”

  “Julia, it’s me, Seth.” He thumbed the pages of a magazine. “Notification came in today. The contract has been awarded.”

  “That’s terrific.”

  She sounded down. Julia didn’t get down, except maybe when alone. “The realtor’s ready to hang me, but I finally found the right apartment for you. It’s ready and waiting.”

  “When do I need to be there?”

  Worried. Definitely worried. He tossed the copy of Scientific American onto his desk and frowned at the cover. “What’s wrong, Julia?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  Right words, wrong tone. The woman was anything but fine. “Is it Jeff?” She had said that student was special to her. Whether or not she knew it, she loved the boy; Seth had heard it in her voice. And even knowing Jeff had been abused and needed loving, Seth envied Jeff Julia’s love, and condemned himself for the envy.

  “I’m worried about him,” she said. “He’s not supposed to stay alone after school.”

  A latchkey kid? In first grade? “Isn’t that against the law?”

  “Yes. He has to be twelve,” she said. “I wrote his father a note about it, but Jeff came to school again today with his BAMA key ring. William Camden ignored the note.”

  So Jeff was a fan of the Alabama football team, too. Seth mentally stored that detail. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “An observer joined us on the playground, and Jeff said some crazy-sounding things. Until this incident, I thought it was part of the grief. His mother died a few months ago.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He asked the observer if he was mad at me. The man said no. Jeff looked at me and said, ‘If he gets mad, just yell. I’ve got my listening ears on.’”

  “Nothing crazy about it,” Seth said. “Grief-stricken kids don’t think mad men hit. Abused kids do.”

  “You’re right. I talked to Jeff for a long time.” Strain muted her voice. “He is being emotionally abused.”

  Curious about Jeff’s special-to-Julia status, Seth had done some checking on the boy and had sensed abuse—he’d seen shades of himself in Jeff—but the confirmation still made him sick. “What have you done about it?”

  “Reported it to the school counselor, who reported it to the authorities. Now Camden’s out for my blood and my job. I’d give him both, if he’d just stop hurting Jeff.”

  She would. Jeff was lucky to have an ally. Seth hadn’t, and making his way on his own had been hell.

  “Now Camden’s really ticked off, and he knows I’m leaving. What if he takes out his anger at me on Jeff?”

  “He won’t.” Seth stared across his office at the glass-panel wall. The inner lab was dark; the glass reflective. Cold determination lined his face. “Call Jeff for me, Julia. I’m going to see him.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Of course I can,” Seth said. “I am.”

  “But you don’t have any authority—”

  “I don’t need any,” Seth interrupted. “Jeff needs a friend. I’m going to b
e one.”

  “Camden will have a fit. He’ll blame Jeff for your interfering, and things will get worse.”

  “I’ll handle Camden. You just prepare the way for me with Jeff, so I’m not a stranger. He’ll be nervous around me.”

  “You’re a big man, and Jeff is tiny. He thinks all men get mad, and mad men hit.”

  “Then don’t you think the sooner he learns different, the better?”

  She hesitated, then said, “Okay, I’ll call. But be careful. I don’t want Camden coming after you, too.”

  Julia’s concern felt good. Too good. “I will.” Seth beat down the hope that Camden would come after him. He’d welcome any excuse to give the man an attitude adjustment.

  “You’re special for caring, Seth.” Her voice dropped low, husky. “You’ve always been special.”

  Seth started to respond, then thought better of it. For five years, he had loved this woman and never had said a word because she was happily married. From his parents, Seth knew happy marriages were a rare and special thing. The world already had too much ugliness in it for a man to deliberately ugly up a rare and special thing. Still, he would remember her “you’re special” for a long time to come.

  Only on the gulf coast could a kid play shirtless in his front yard in November.

  Seth leaned against the Lexus and glanced away from Jeff down the oak-lined street. Nice neighborhood. Pretty two-story, white clapboard house with a wide front porch and a hurricane fence enclosing the yard. At least Jeff wasn’t going home alone after school to a rough neighborhood. Not that his safety was assured here, but his odds seemed better.

  Jeff tossed the football up in the air and then caught it. He hadn’t yet noticed Seth, and that worried him. The boy could be taken by surprise. But Seth liked seeing him play as if he didn’t have a worry in the world, and he wished down to his bones that was true.

  Julia had been damn upset, scared Camden would lash out at Jeff over her report. Seth had calmed her down but, during every minute of their conversation, he had gotten more and more angry at Camden. For hurting a defenseless kid, and for upsetting Julia.

  Jeff dropped the ball. When he picked it up, he saw Seth and grinned from ear to ear. “You’re Dr. Seth,” he said, running up to the fence. “Dr. Julia told me you were coming to see me.”

  “Dr. Julia?”

  Jeff nodded. “So we don’t get her and Mr. Warner mixed up. He’s a teacher, too.”

  “Ah, I see.” Julia had paved the way, all right, including a photo or Jeff wouldn’t have recognized him on sight. Where had she gotten one? Regardless, Jeff didn’t seem at all wary of Seth, and for that he felt grateful. “I wanted to talk with you. Dr. Julia was a little worried about you bringing your house key to school.”

  “I have to have it when I get home to get in.”

  “Didn’t she send your dad a note about that?”

  “I gave it to him.” Jeff looked up at Seth, round-eyed. “I promise.”

  “Well, what did he say?”

  Biting his lip and avoiding Seth’s eyes, Jeff swayed side to side. “I dunno.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  A resigned sigh hiked his slim shoulders, and Jeff shuffled his feet in the sandy dirt, kicking up a little cloud of dust. “Do I have to tell you?”

  “Yes, you have to tell me.”

  Blinking hard, Jeff tucked his head to his chest and mumbled, “Goddamn your mother for dying, and goddamn you.”

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry for cussing, Dr. Seth, but that’s what he said.” The boy’s cheeks blistered, and his eyes filled with tears. “I hate it when he cusses.”

  What Jeff hated was his father cussing him. Seth didn’t give a tinker’s damn for it, either. He’d never in his life hugged a kid, but he wanted to hug Jeff. How many times had Camden pulled this stunt, damning them? “Losing your mom’s still hard, isn’t it?”

  “I miss her.”

  Three little words, but ones so powerful they threatened to knock Seth to his knees. “I know. My mom died when I was six, too. I still miss her.” And he still felt guilty about her death. At least Jeff had been spared that.

  “Dr. Julia’s sure Mom misses me, too.” Doubt riddled the boy’s voice. He pushed away from the fence and stared down at the dirt. “But I think she might be too hurt to miss me.”

  Confused, Seth pressed him. “What do you mean, buddy?”

  “My mom’s burning in hell.” Jeff studied the sand-crusted toe of his sneaker. “Dad says she’ll burn there forever.” He choked down a sob rooted in hopelessness. “Every time I close my eyes I see her on fire.”

  The depth of the kid’s suffering stabbed through Seth’s heart, and every instinct in his body urged him to beat the hell out of Camden for doing this to the boy. But that was a selfish response. Seth had to focus on what was best for Jeff.

  He squatted so they could see eye to eye. “I have a question for you, Jeff. It’s not a test or anything, just a question,” Seth said. “Do you believe in God?”

  The boy rolled his gaze. “Everybody believes in God. They gotta cuz He’s everybody’s father and Mom said.”

  Universal, Mom being the ultimate authority on everything. “What else did she tell you about Him?”

  “That He loves us and always will, no matter what.”

  So far, so good. “I think she’s right.”

  “She was real smart.” Pride tinged Jeff’s voice.

  Seth smiled to lend weight to what he was about to say, hoping the boy would find comfort in it and maybe, just maybe, a little peace. “What she told you is how we know she’s not burning in hell, Jeff.”

  Hope filled his face, but doubt quickly chased it. “Then how come Dad said she was?”

  Because he’s like my father was. He’s a cruel and selfish bastard who has no idea how much he’s hurting you. Because even if he did know how much he was hurting you, he wouldn’t give a tinker’s damn. Because making you feel worse makes him feel better. Stronger. Like more of a man.

  Seth thought it all, and said none of it. Instead, he searched for a reasonable explanation that wasn’t hard on Jeff’s dad. If Seth came across hard, the boy would feel compelled to defend his father. Sad, but that’s the way it always worked. The parent abused, the kid protected.

  “When somebody you love dies, you miss them. Your dad hurts way down deep, but he can’t go around crying all the time, so he acts angry with your mom for leaving you both.”

  Jeff’s jaw dropped open, and his eyes stretched wide. “You mean, Mom wanted to die?”

  “No, she loved you too much to ever want to leave you.” Sensing Jeff’s doubt and confusion, Seth lifted a leaf from the ground and then dusted away the grains of sand clinging to it. They showered against his shoes. “It’s like this leaf.” He pinched it between his forefinger and thumb. “It was green and on a tree limb up there.” He pointed to a wintering oak. “But when it was time, the leaf turned brown and fell off.”

  Understanding dawned in Jeff’s eyes. “Grass turns brown, too.”

  “In a way, everything does.” Seth smiled. “People are born, and, when it’s time, they die.”

  “But the leaves and grass don’t burn in hell. Just people do.” A frown creased the skin between Jeff’s brows. “So if God loves us, then how come He’s burning Mom?”

  “He isn’t, son,” Seth said softly. The little skeptic shrugged, and Seth countered, offering logic. “Think about it. If God is everybody’s father, then He’s your mom’s father, too.” Seth slung an arm over his bent knee. “Now if you were a father who loved your children—no matter what—would you make them burn in hell forever?”

  Jeff didn’t hesitate. “No.”

  “Neither would God, Jeff,” Seth said. “Your mom isn’t burning in hell, son. She’s watching over you from heaven.”

  Confusion muddied his relief. “But Dad says—”

  “I know. But you’ve thought this through for yourself now. You know the truth in her
e.” Seth gently touched Jeff’s chest through the fence, felt his heart pound against his fingertips. “People say and do all kinds of things when they’re in pain. They keep hoping something will make them feel better.”

  Jeff’s lip trembled. “It makes me hurt.”

  Rage threatened Seth, but he swallowed it back down. More rage, Jeff did not need. “Your dad hurts you?”

  “When he says stuff.” Jeff dragged in a deep breath that lifted his chest. “He doesn’t love me. I don’t know why.” Jeff glanced at Seth. “Is something wrong with me?”

  “No, it’s just grief. It’s not your fault.”

  “Maybe it is.” He bowed his shoulders and stared at Seth’s shoes, as if confessing the most shameful, unmentionable sin. “Dad says only Mom wanted me and then she died. Now, he’s stuck with me.”

  Camden was a real piece of work. A bastard, through and through. “I don’t know a lot about kids, Jeff. But I know a good one when I see one, and you’re a good one. Don’t you ever let anyone tell you different.”

  “It’s hard to remember.”

  It was. Particularly when you heard you were lousy a lot more often. Seth’s voice went thick. “Are you scared he’ll hurt you, buddy?”

  Jeff stared off into the pin oaks. The wind slicked his hair back from his face. “Maybe. He—he used to hurt my mom.” Turning, Jeff stared hard, willing Seth to believe him. “But he was always real sorry. Mom told me he was.”

  Seth sincerely doubted it, but he kept his opinion to himself. Jeff needed the lie. “Okay, but no more nightmares of your mom burning, because she’s not. She never was. I said so, and I never lie.”

  “Dr. Julia told me.” A weak smile touched Jeff’s lips, and he swatted at a mosquito buzzing his neck.

  Seth’s smile froze on his face. It wasn’t just dust and dirt, Jeff was bruised. Even under the armpit. He’d been grabbed and jerked. Hard.

  The front door creaked open, and a man stepped out onto the porch. Had to be Camden. Mid-twenties, brown hair, CPA slump in his shoulders. He topped out at about five-eight and moved with a giveaway swagger that pegged him as a severe sufferer of the little big-man syndrome. So you’re short. Act tough, bluster and bully, and people will consider you important.