Next To Die by Marliss Melton

Author:Marliss Melton [MELTON, MARLISS]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC027020
ISBN: 9780446198752
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2007-08-01T04:00:00+00:00

“You’re late!” barked a male voice, booming out of the confusing blend of multiple conversations, rumbling bowling balls, and crashing pins. “You missed the warm-up. What part of eleven hundred hours didn’t you understand, PO2?”

Lia realized that it was Vinny who was being yelled at, by a man in his late thirties with a streak of silver in his black hair and eyes of such a pale hue they were opalescent. She looked at Vinny to see how he would answer the charge. To her surprise, she found him grinning. “Come on, Senior Chief, you know I don’t need to warm up.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Where the hell is Teddy?”

“Teddy’s not coming.”

“What? This is a tournament, not a goddamn practice.” A V-shaped vein appeared on the senior chief’s forehead.

“Easy, McGuire.” With affable authority in his voice, another man stood up to tower over everyone. Lia gaped, awed by his height and breadth and his all-American good looks. “What’s Teddy doing?” Mr. Sports Illustrated demanded.

“Nate’s got him looking at houses,” Vinny explained with an inner-city shrug.

“Christ,” swore the senior chief, looking disgusted. “I knew it was a woman.”

Lia raised an eyebrow at the misogynistic comment.

“But I brought someone to take his place,” Vinny added. “This is Lia Price. Lia, meet Lieutenant Lindstrom and Senior Chief McGuire.”

“Nice to meet you,” she murmured. “I haven’t played in years,” she hissed in Vinny’s ear. “I can’t be in a tournament!”

“We just want to play,” Vinny answered persuasively. “We don’t care if we lose.”

“The hell we don’t,” the senior chief started to mutter, but Lieutenant Lindstrom cut him off.

“We need a fourth player or we have to forfeit,” he pointed out.

“So come on,” said Vinny, taking the man’s observation as permission to proceed. “Let’s get our shoes.” He tugged her to the rental counter, where she grudgingly requested a pair of size sevens.

The atmosphere, complete with music from the fifties, made Vinny’s eyes sparkle. His enthusiasm was contagious. Lia felt her pulse quicken.

She watched Senior Chief McGuire place a pitcher of beer and four plastic cups on the table behind them.

“His code name’s Mako,” Vinny divulged, following her gaze.

“As in mako shark?” she asked. With the silver streak in his hair and his pale eyes, he looked just like one.

“Yeah, but don’t worry. His bark’s worse than his bite. Or rather, his bite isn’t all that bad,” he amended to keep from mangling metaphors.

“You’re up first, Vinny,” Lieutenant Lindstrom called. “And then you, ma’am.” He nodded at Lia.

Ma’am again. Weren’t there expectations of behavior that went with that word?

“Here’s a ten-pound ball for you,” Vinny said, dropping one in her lap. “Let me know if it’s too heavy.” He hefted his own, heavier ball and stepped onto the wooden platform to launch it down the lane.

Lia watched, enjoying the way he cocked his hips and took aim. The ball whipped down the lane, arced at the last second, and slammed into the pins, landing him a strike.

The lieutenant high-fived him as Vinny returned to his seat, grinning.

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