Save Me (The Archer Brothers, #3)

I feel as if a ton of bricks are being pressed into my chest, while a light bulb explodes right in front of me. I never asked Ryley if a missing persons report was filed, nor did I look for one, or file one myself.

“I understand, ma’am,” I say, even though I refuse to believe they can’t be found. People don’t disappear unless they’re dead, and I know they’re not—I can feel it in my bones. “Please call me if you need anything, or have an update.”

“I will, Mr. McCoy.”

We shake hands, and I hold hers for a beat longer, hoping I can convey how important my quest is before I exit her office.





“I CAN’T BELIEVE you bought a house across from the shipyard,” I say as I peer through the high-powered binoculars that Evan Archer keeps on his upper deck. Everything on the other side of the Puget Sound looks crystal clear, as if the sailors he’s watching are standing right in front of him. The only thing lacking from the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard are SEALs, and I don’t mean the kind you find loitering the shores.

Archer sets a beer down next to me and leans over the balcony, letting his own dangle from between his fingers. We’ve been friends for a long time, meeting for the first time when we were assigned to the same SEAL team. Penny and Ryley hit it off immediately and were often too chatty during the team’s gatherings, making Evan and I wonder what the women were up to. We never felt like we had to worry about our wives when we were deployed, which makes me question why a missing persons report for Penny and Claire was never filed.

“I bought for the view,” Archer replies, laughing. The view from his deck is spectacular, even if it does look directly upon a shipyard. I could spend hours out here, watching the boats as they coast up and down the Sound. The water is always calling my name, so the Navy was the only choice I had for a career. It’s what I wanted to do; becoming a SEAL was the icing on the cake for me.

“What goes on over there?” I ask. Ever since Evan’s been back he has been watching everything. He’s always searching for hidden meanings in the actions of people around him.

“Oh you know, a little bit of this and that.”

I don’t know if Archer is being coy on purpose or not. Either way, I don’t appreciate it. I don’t have time for games. Pulling the binoculars away from my eyes, I glare at him, and he picks up his beer, taking a long pull before returning his attention to the shipyard. There had to be a reason for him to buy here.

“Care to elaborate?”

Archer sighs and looks around. “Chesley’s over there. About six weeks ago he arrived in the middle of the night by helo. I had noticed a lot of activity at the yard earlier in the day. They moved a sub and a carrier, and you know how slow shipyards move. That night I was watching with my night vision goggles and caught sight of the bird. Sure enough, hopping off that helo and running into building C was none other than the Brigadier General.”

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Chesley would show up here, especially since Archer is across the Sound.

“So why did you buy here?”

Archer shrugs. “I wasn’t ready to let go, and being across from the yard gives me peace of mind. Now I’m on constant alert and have installed a state of the art alarm system with hidden cameras because I don’t trust them.” He points across the water at the same people who were once considered family. “We’re the only ones that can bring Chesley down with Ingram and he knows it. I have no doubt that the reason he’s hanging out in a Navy shipyard is because my house is in his line of sight. He’s watching me. I’m watching them. What sucks for him is that I have access to the best equipment—night vision, guns, you name it I have it. He probably thinks I’m siting here sipping coffee and enjoying retirement.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Nah. I mean I do my thing and have my jobs, but I watch them, recording the shit they do. They want us dead and I’m not going down without a fight.”

I nod in agreement before picking up the binoculars again. I watch movements—doors opening and closing, and the people who come and go—taking mental notes of what’s going on. As far as I’m concerned, I’m still an active SEAL whether the Navy wants to recognize me or not and I’m always thinking like one.