Free The Guardian's Wildchild by Feather Stone Page A

bent down to her ear and whispered, “Hope you’re not leaving, Sidney. You should see the sun outside. It’s a beautiful day. Better stick around.”
    Sidney took a deep breath and opened her eyes. It shocked everyone. Waterhouse didn’t know what had possessed him to say what he had. The words had come tumbling out of his mouth. For a few seconds, Sidney gazed at his face and held onto his hand. Then she closed her eyes.
    The comlink badge on Waterhouse’s coat sounded an alarm. He let go of Sidney’s hand and activated the device.
    “Captain Waterhouse.”
    “Sir, Lieutenant Commander Smart. We’re well on our way to Acapulco. Weather report update indicates severe weather heading our way. We’ll be in rough seas by thirteen-hundred hours, sir. Gives us two hours to ready the ship and crew. Readings predict gale force winds by twenty-one-hundred hours, sir.”
    “Any chance of going around the storm?”
    “No, sir. It’s affecting the entire Pacific, right to Hawaii.”
    “Notify the on duty officers. I’ll meet with you in half an hour. Waterhouse out.” He flicked off the voice link and stepped into the main infirmary. “Number one, Captain Butchart, there will be no execution tonight. Number two, you’re welcome to remain on board for the duration of the sail to Acapulco. Is there anything you require in the meantime?”
    Butchart was momentarily stunned by Waterhouse’s decision. He lowered his voice so only Waterhouse could hear. “Careful, Sam. There’s more at stake than just that broad.”
    Waterhouse let the remark go. He waited for Butchart to ramble on, knowing the officer’s ego was likely to reveal more than he intended.
    Butchart glanced in Sidney’s direction momentarily. “Lieutenant Bridges, I’ll be disembarking. Notify my pilot. Captain Waterhouse, until notified by myself, you’re not to send any communication to the base about this prisoner.” He stepped up close to Sidney’s room, turning his back to Waterhouse. Watching her through the glass window, he fidgeted with something in his pocket.
    Waterhouse casually moved to Butchart’s side. Together they stood, watching Sidney. “What’s happening on the base?” Waterhouse prodded.
    Butchart smirked. “Important visitor.” He puckered his mouth as if restraining further explanation. “You may live to regret your decision today, Captain.”
    “I’ll risk it.” Waterhouse smiled at the insinuation of a threat.
    Butchart remained focused on Sidney’s face. “If she survives, she won’t tell you a damn thing; I promise you.”
    It seemed to Waterhouse that Butchart was counting on the prisoner remaining silent.
    “You haven’t tried my methods.” Waterhouse spoke softly. “I plan to be nice, win her confidence. You know what I mean?” He winked and began to leave the infirmary. At the door, he turned to Bridges. “Lieutenant, from now on only Commander Moon, you, medical personnel, and myself have access to the prisoner.”
    “Yes, sir,” called out the lieutenant.
    Returning to his office, Waterhouse verbally entered the familiar coded numbers into his comlink.
    “Lieutenant Weir here. Who’s calling?”
    “Sam Waterhouse. Is this still a secure line, Chris?”
    “Still private, sir. Things could change. Word is the brass is hunting for a traitor. Today the admiral was strutting around with some civilian woman demonstrating our security systems. Never seen him look so pumped up. We were ordered not to mention anything about the prisoner. In fact, all records of the incident have been destroyed.”
    Over the past year, Waterhouse had privately cultivated a relationship with Lieutenant Chris Weir. Lieutenant Weir kept a look out over his sons, and through the lieutenant, he was able to secretly remain in contact with the New Seattle Police Force’s attempt to hunt down Joy’s killer.
    “Interesting. Do you have any interesting information about her that I might not find in the official