Flipper lifted his gaze to find his commanding officer and the admiral staring at him. “I assume this is the person naval intelligence believes is the traitor.”
“Yes,” Admiral Martin said. “She’s my goddaughter. I am Godpop 1.”
“She’s my goddaughter as well,” added Commanding Officer Shields. “I am Godpop 2.”
Flipper’s gaze moved from one man to the other. “I see, sirs.”
Admiral Martin nodded. “Her father was part of our SEAL team and our best friend. His name was Andrew Jamison.”
Flipper had heard that Commanding Officer Shields and Admiral Martin were part of the same SEAL team a number of years ago.
“Andrew was the best. He lost his life saving ours,” said Commanding Officer Shields. “He didn’t die immediately, and before he died, he made us promise to look after his wife, Leigh, and his daughter, Swan.” The man paused and then said, “Over twenty-eight years ago, when we were taking some R & R in Jamaica, Andrew met Leigh, who was a Jamaican model. They married a year later, and he moved her to Key West, where our team was stationed. After Andrew was killed, Leigh returned to Jamaica. When Swan graduated from high school, she returned to the Keys and moved into her parents’ home.”
“How old was she when her father was killed?” Flipper asked.
“She was fifteen,” Admiral Martin said. “Swan was close to her dad. Leigh was so broken up over Andrew’s death that she didn’t want to live in the States without him, which was why she returned to Jamaica. She passed away two years ago.”
Flipper’s commanding officer then took up the tale. “Leigh sent for us before she died of stomach cancer, asking us to look out for Swan after she was gone. We would have done that anyway, since we always kept in touch with both Leigh and Swan. In fact, Swan rotated summers with us and our families even after Leigh returned to Jamaica. We took our roles as godfathers seriously. We were even there when Swan graduated from high school and college.”
“Did Swan have any American grandparents?” Flipper asked.
He saw both men’s lips tighten into frowns. “Yes. However, her paternal grandparents didn’t approve of their son’s marriage to Leigh,” said Commanding Officer Shields.
“So they never accepted their granddaughter.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“No, they never did,” Admiral Martin confirmed. As if it was a topic he’d rather change, the man added, “We’ve been given some time to find out the truth, but not much. Luckily, Swan’s Godpop 3 has a high-level position at naval intelligence. Otherwise, we wouldn’t know about the investigation. We have thirty days to prove Swan is not a traitor and identify the person who is. That’s where we need your help. Instead of releasing you to go home as we’re doing for the other members of your team, we are assigning you to a special mission, Lieutenant Holloway. You are being sent to Key West.”
Key West, Florida
Swan Jamison was beside herself with excitement as she opened the huge box on her desk. Although it contained only her jewelry-making supplies, the package served as affirmation that while rebuilding was still taking place in certain areas, the majority of the island had recovered from the hurricane that had hit eight months ago.
“Anything for me?” Rafe asked, sticking his head through the office door.
Her shop was in a very trendy area so she could capitalize on the tourists visiting the island. To help with high operating costs, she leased out one of the large rooms in the back. Rafe was her tenant, who’d converted the back room into a tattoo shop. On some days, he got more customers than she did.
“Nothing for you, Rafe, just supplies for me.” She checked her watch. “You’re early today.” Usually he didn’t open up until noon.
“I have a special appointment at ten thirty and I need to ready my ink.” And then he was gone. Rafe didn’t say a whole lot except to his customers.
The door chime alerted her that she had a customer. Jamila, who worked part-time and usually only in the mornings, had taken time off for a day of beauty—hair, nails, pedicure, bikini wax, the works. Her boyfriend worked on a cruise ship that was due in port tomorrow. Swan was happy for Jamila and happy for herself as well. The cruise ships always brought in tourists who wanted to purchase authentic handmade jewelry.
She walked out of her office as a man perused her jewelry display case near the door. That was good. While he checked out her jewelry, she would check him out.
He had a nice profile. Tall, broad shoulders that looked good in a T-shirt and a pair of muscular thighs that fit well in his jeans. He had diamond-blond hair that was neatly trimmed and his hands were the right size for his body.
There was something about the way he stood, straight and tall, that all but spelled out military man. And the way his legs were braced apart, as if he had to maintain his balance even on land, spelled out navy.
Too bad. She didn’t do military men. In all honesty, lately she hadn’t done men at all. Too busy.
And then there was the issue of Candy’s divorce. Swan knew she shouldn’t let what had happened to her best friend darken her own view, but Swan was known to claim whatever excuse suited her and that one did at the moment.
And speaking of the moment, she had looked her fill. She needed to make her first sale of the day. “May I help you?”
He turned and looked at her, and every cell in her body jolted to attention.
Wow! She’d seen blue eyes before, but his were a shade she’d never seen. They were laser blue; the intense sharpness of the pupils captured her within their scope. And his features... Lordy! The man had such gorgeous bone structure! There was no way a woman had ever passed by him and not taken a second look. Even a third, while wiping away drool.
“Yes, you can help me.”
And why did he have to sound so good, too? The sound of his voice—a deep, husky tone—made her throat go dry.
“All right,” she said, walking over to him. She knew she had to get a grip. Her store had been closed for two months due to the hurricane, and now that the tourists were returning, she needed to catch up on sales.
“And how can I help you?” She didn’t miss the way he was looking at her. She saw interest in his eyes. There was nothing wrong with that. She took pride in her appearance because she had been raised to do so. Leigh Rutledge Jamison, who’d been a Jamaican model, had taught her daughter that your appearance was everything.
Pain settled in Swan’s heart. She missed her mom so much.
“I’m looking for a gift for someone.”
Swan nodded as she came to stand beside him. Not only did he look good and sound good, but he smelled good as well. She glanced down at his hand and didn’t see a wedding ring. He was probably buying a gift for his girlfriend or soon-to-be fiancée.
“What do you have in mind?”
“What do you suggest?” he asked her.
“Well, it depends,” she said, looking into those gorgeous eyes.
“On what?”
“What the person likes. I make jewelry from stones, but as you can see, there are a number of them, in various shades, colors and styles.”
He smiled and Swan felt a tingling in the pit of her stomach when a dimple appeared in one of his cheeks. “I honestly don’t