SEAL Firsts

by Sharon Hamilton

  She parked her red Honda on the street, the hood pointing downhill, the tires curbed. She removed her bag, then walked up the brick and cobblestone steps alongside the driveway and rang the doorbell at the main house. The front porch was the size of her condo’s kitchen; its large columns and half-walled wooden railings allowed an expansive view of the bay below.

  Tom came to the front door, barefoot and in jeans and a light blue shirt, which was buttoned a little low, Christy thought. He had a glass of red wine in his hand. As he opened the large glass and metal sculptured door, she heard jazz coming from inside and caught the faint smell of fresh soap.

  “Christy. Lovely to see you again.” He took her hand and kissed it tenderly.

  Her back was ramrod straight as her knees buckled from his attentiveness. She was conscious of his breathing, the tanned skin with a light dusting of hair on his well-formed chest.

  “Thank you, Tom. I appreciate this.”

  “Please,” he said as he gestured to the rest of his kingdom. He grabbed her bag as she passed him.

  He collected grandfather clocks, and the incessant clicking of small metal pieces inside massive wooden chests was both stimulating and reassuring. Measured. Organized. Tom had an attention to detail unlike any other man she had ever met.

  Except one.

  Across thick deep burgundy carpeting, she walked down the walnut-paneled hallway and into the kitchen at the rear, which overlooked a peaceful garden with a running water fountain. The music, the bubbling water, the smell of basil and tomato coming from the stove, all felt like a stage had been set. And so she asked.

  “Where is Johanna?”

  Tom’s back was turned as he got down two plates from his upper cabinet without asking Christy if she wanted supper. He was going to make it for her anyway. “Gone,” he said to the cabinet.

  “Gone?” she asked.

  “She’s left me, Christy.”

  “I’m so sorry, Tom.”

  “Don’t be.” He looked up and smiled. “She was not wife material.”

  Maybe Christy’s radar was set higher than normal, but there was something else behind his eyes that he did not say.

  Christy stumbled on a couple of responses she couldn’t finish.

  Tom interrupted her. “She neglected to tell me she intended to keep one or two of her close girlfriends, and I didn’t want to share.”

  “Girlfriends? You mean boyfriends, right?”

  “No. You heard me right. Guess I didn’t do a very good job qualifying.” Tom sighed. “Remember when I taught you about qualifying being the most important part of the sales process?”

  Had she asked the right questions of Kyle when she’d had the chance? The vision of Kyle’s tattooed arms holding another woman’s body loomed large and she felt her stomach lurch as tears painfully forced their way to her eyes.

  Tom was perceptive. In an instant he was in front of her, holding her face between his massive warm hands, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. “Madame M has told me about your SEAL, Christy. Perhaps…” His hands were trembling slightly. He licked his lips and continued. “Perhaps we could heal each other…” He bent to kiss her in what she knew would be a tender kiss, but she just couldn’t do it. She turned away from him and broke free.

  “Sorry. If…if…Madame…,” she began.

  “No. That was me, just being a man seeing a beautiful woman in pain. I want to help.” He went back to the plates, turned, and said softly, his eyes downturned, “Forgive me.”

  God, there was nothing to forgive! Was she nuts?

  “Thank you, but your apology is not needed. I’m overly sensitive right now. But I’ll land on my feet eventually. I always do.” She gave a brittle, victorious smile he didn’t buy, and watched him dish up a tossed green salad next to a red pasta dish.

  “Come. We’ll eat, have a glass of wine, and then I’ll take you to the cottage so you can take a hot bath and fall asleep, okay?”

  Of course she was okay with that. Who wouldn’t be?

  They ate at the formal dining room with large picture windows, overlooking the sight of the city at dusk. It was unusually fogless. Lights began to twinkle as the sky overhead turned deep turquoise.

  The food was perfect. The wine was perfect. The man sitting before her was perfect, except he wasn’t Kyle. She wondered why she couldn’t just lose herself in the moment, let Tom care for her, heal her, as he had said. But she couldn’t.

  “So, how is your real estate career going?” he asked as he looked at her lips from across the table.

  “Good. I was just holding my first open house—well, it was actually sort of a fiasco—I mean…” She couldn’t finish. “Oh, I’ve just been making all the mistakes a newbie agent makes.”

  “Then you are learning, if you know they are mistakes.”

  “It is a cutthroat business. People are only too kind to let you know when you’ve screwed up,” she finally said.

  “I understand completely. When I was actively selling, I knew how those offices could be. Can’t say I miss it.”

  “Once I build a little confidence, I’ll be okay. I’m just not sure what I’m doing yet. I don’t want to waste someone else’s money.”

  “Yes. I used to tell people I’d made all the mistakes with my own money first, so I ought to be good with theirs.”

  Christy laughed.

  “You have a condo, Madame M tells me.”

  “Yes. My mother left it to me. It’s a nice place, overlooking the water, the boats, Coronado Island.”

  “And you will think of your SEAL friend when you look at the island?”

  Christy blushed and looked down at her lap. Her fingers smoothed over crease lines of the ironed linen monogrammed napkin that matched the tablecloth. Her fingers couldn’t stop the little tenting of the fold. She felt the heat from her body radiating through to her palm. She looked up and Tom was studying her, his head slightly tilted. Handsome, available. Waiting for her move. She smiled as she thought of Madame M’s favorite saying, so repeated it to him.

  “Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

  At first he didn’t react, but after noticing an extra flutter of his eyelids, she could see she had speared him in a most delicate place. Where he hurt. He inhaled and raised his crystal wine glass to her.

  “To our broken hearts, then.”

  It would have been easy to fall into the rhythm of this household, she thought as she walked into the two-story living room with her glass of port. The antiques, the clicking of the well-timed clocks, the sounds of foghorns over the bay, the glistening lights of the bridges and water at moonlight were pleasant details of a life she could have. What was there not to love about the man who stood behind her, but just far enough away so as not to intrude? She could feel his heat, feel his desire, and knew she could heal him at the cost of herself.

  But that is what this relationship with Tom would be, sacrificing herself for something that didn’t make her whole. She’d always had her standards. But now she had a taste of what her life could be like, and this wasn’t it. She could pass all this up for a picnic on a park bench or a ride in a rusty rowboat powered by arms she longed for to hold her. For a cup of chowder or sandwich at a bar that held pictures of fallen heroes on its walls.

  “I’m tired. I’d like to turn in,” she said.

  His grave response was, “Yes.”

  He followed behind, carrying her bag as she walked the brick path to the cottage. The fire was lit. Through open French doors, she couldn’t help but notice the bed had a centered view of the flames. She heard her bag drop to the floor. His hand was on her shoulder, and he turned her, but did not step closer.

  “If you change your mind, I will leave the back door open, Christy,” he said softly. He bent, held her face between his hands, and kissed both cheeks. “Goodnight.”

  And he was gone.

  Her fingers fumbled as she placed her bag on the bed and started to unzip it. She remo
ved her toiletry kit, and then hooked it on a custom gargoyle loop above the white marble vanity top in the adjoining bath. She poured a generous portion of lavender bath gel into the two-person tub and turned on the water. She stripped off her traveling clothes, then walked naked to her bag and took out her sets of black pants and stretchy tops like Madame M liked her to wear and hung them up. She put her hair up in a ponytail and stepped into the warm bath water, and melted.

  The full moon hung heavy over the arched window as she lay her head back against the cool marble. It was the same moon Kyle would see.

  If he looked up.

  Chapter 30

  Kyle brought the Karl Gustav and its deadly ammunition to Gunny’s gym to stash in an old bank safe he kept there. They were running out of places to stay. Coop’s motor home was under surveillance, Gunny’s truck was going to be impounded sooner or later, and Gunny was a fugitive from the hospital, thanks to the trio. They were running out of time.

  Fredo’s apartment was in a low-rent district down the strand, under the freeway. They sat out on his veranda amid the deafening sound of cars while they ate pizza Fredo had ordered. Kyle looked up and noticed the full moon in the cloudless sky. He couldn’t help but think of her. And wondered what she was doing right now.

  “I guess Mia’s going to be okay,” Fredo started in.

  “Yeah? How’d you find that out?” Cooper said.

  “Stopped by today. She looks good, man.”

  Kyle smiled. He was sure Fredo was recalling what Mia had looked like naked, even though she’d been suffering from the burns of the explosion. Fredo was smitten. No doubt about it.

  “I’m sure she appreciated the company. How was Mama?” Kyle said to Fredo’s smirk.

  “They were arguing something fierce when I walked in. Cops were interested in her too, until she told them I was her cousin.”

  “Kissing cousins, I’d say,” Cooper continued.

  Fredo threw his wadded napkin in Cooper’s face.

  “Gunny, you want some pizza? Better hurry up, or it’ll all be gone,” Kyle shouted over the traffic din through the opened sliding glass door. The older man had locked himself in the bathroom and was coughing.

  Gunny’s hacking and coughing continued, accelerating.

  “He’s not too well,” Fredo announced.

  “I think we should take him home. I don’t want him to drive,” Kyle said.

  “I heard that,” Gunny said as he approached. “You boys are going to nursemaid me to death. I’m fine. I think we need to start focusing on Armando.”

  Kyle told them about the conversation he’d had with Timmons after Detective Mayfield’s meeting. “They think he’s still alive, but the gang will step up the play. They haven’t gotten what they want yet.”

  “What does Timmons think they want?” Fredo asked Kyle.

  “Not what. Who. He thinks they want me.”

  “That explains why Carlisle is so interested,” Coop added.

  “You think they trashed Armando’s house for the guns?” Gunny asked.

  “Absolutely. And I think they want more. Think I’ll trade them guns for Armando.”

  “He’d never let that happen,” said Fredo.

  “And that’s why we have to get to him first.”

  Kyle’s cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  “Kyle Lansdowne?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Detective Mayfield of the San Diego Police Department. I’ve spent most of the morning working on a case I think you’re involved in. There’s been a murder in the gym at the Infinity Building.”

  Kyle’s stomach churned. He stood quickly. “Who?” He didn’t want to know, but he had to find out. He noticed Cooper and Fredo had locked eyes with him.

  “Not her,” Mayfield said. “The deceased is a trainer, name’s Marla. You know her?”

  “No.”

  “I think she was a friend of Ms. Christy Nelson. I’m sure you know her.”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.”

  “Look, Mr. Lansdowne, I’ve spoken to Timmons. We’re all on the same team here, but I got people all over my ass. This is the fourth body to show up, and you are the prime suspect.”

  Kyle took a big breath and then exhaled. He didn’t know what to say. Cooper and Fredo were still on alert.

  “But I’m not buying it, son,” Mayfield continued.

  Kyle was relieved. “Thank you, sir. So what’s your theory?”

  “Rather feels like flushing a rabbit out of a briar patch. They’re trying to scare her, make her do something stupid. I think they’re hoping she’ll go find you.”

  “Ain’t going to happen,” Kyle said.

  “Come again?”

  Kyle looked at his buds and then answered Mayfield. “They won’t find me through her. We broke it off.”

  “You know that, Timmons knows that and told me the same. But they don’t.”

  “I thought her condo at the Infinity was the safest place for her.”

  “I’d normally agree. But these guys aren’t amateurs. And they don’t care how much publicity they stir up or who they hurt.”

  “Why are you calling me?” Kyle wasn’t sure he could do anything to help. “You know I shouldn’t go near her. Even with the murder, I still think that building is the safest place for her.”

  “Yeah. Except she isn’t here.”

  Kyle swore under his breath. No one else said a word or made a sound.

  “Where is she?”

  “I’m not going to say. Not sure it’s safe. Besides, you just said you shouldn’t be anywhere near her. Let’s just keep it that way.”

  “So what are you proposing?”

  “You need to get yourself caught. You gotta be the bait.”

  “No way.”

  “They’re going to find you, Kyle.”

  “Not unless I find them first.”

  “Son, you are thinking with the wrong part of your anatomy. If they don’t find you, they’ll get her, and if that fails, they’ll kill her and your buddy too. She’s safe right now, but I’d say you’ve got about twenty-four hours. That’s it.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Not telling.”

  “She in San Diego?”

  “She’s not at her condo, if that’s what you mean. Someone has been, though. The place is a mess.”

  Kyle looked at Fredo and Cooper. Both SEALs were watching his face. Ready for anything.

  “Look, Kyle. You’ve got to stop thinking about rescue here. Leave that to us. That’s why I’m not telling you. You need to get yourself caught so we can track you. Can you do that, son?

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Well, get sure. Find a way. I got no other way to do it.”

  Kyle knew he needed to find Christy. If they couldn’t find him, they’d go after her. Mayfield was wrong. Christy was the bait. And he wasn’t anywhere around her now.

  That was going to have to change. Nothing he could do tonight. He’d go see Simms in the morning. If he couldn’t get Christy’s location from Mayfield, Christy might have told her employer.

  Gunny’s lumpy couch was going to be home tonight. As he stretched out, he stood up and looked at the almost full moon, bathing everything in a chalky highlight that glowed. Blue-white flashes from the television inside Gunny’s added strobes of light to the outside porch. He knew she must have gone to San Francisco.

  But where?

  In the morning, Kyle woke up with a sore back. Gunny was sawing logs and had fallen asleep in the recliner with all his clothes on. They had stayed up to watch some wrestling show on late night TV since Kyle couldn’t sleep.

  He left a note for Gunny and took the beater off the island into San Diego, pulling up to the Patterson Realty office at eight-thirty. In the parking lot across the street he sat and watched, noting Simms was the first to arrive and was checking his watch. Kyle slipped in behind the man, causing Simms to jump as Kyle addressed him.

  “Hello, Mr. S
imms. I’m looking for Christy.”

  Simms scurried backward until he slammed himself up against the reception countertop.

  “Look, I won’t tell a soul you were here. Please, I have a family…”

  Kyle swore. “I’m not here to cause any problems for you. I want to protect Christy. She’s in danger.”

  “That’s because of you.”

  “No, that’s because some people are trying to mess with me. But I think they’ll go after her next.”

  “Look, I don’t know anything.”

  Kyle stepped closer to the man, who looked like he was going to pee in his pants. “I think you do. I think you know exactly where she is. She has no idea she’s in danger.”

  “Well, why don’t you call her then, if…if she’ll take your call?”

  “I’d like to do that from your phone, if I may.” He directed Mr. Simms to go down the hallway, following behind.

  “My phone? Here?” Simms asked at the entrance to his office.

  “Yes.”

  “So she’ll think it’s me?”

  “Yes.”

  “She said you two had broken up. She wouldn’t be seeing you anymore.”

  “That’s true.”

  “You’d better leave all this to the police. They’re after you, you know. Came in here with questions.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  They could hear one of the secretaries arriving. She busied herself, humming a tune, and began brewing coffee and turning on lights. She stopped short when she saw Kyle’s hulking frame leaning against the doorway of the manager’s office.

  “Morning, ma’am.”

  She blushed, flustered and muttering something to herself, and then headed in the opposite direction.

  “I’m not here to hurt anybody,” Kyle repeated.

  Simms pushed his phone across the desk so that the keypad faced Kyle. He had her cell number memorized. He dialed, heard the familiar ring. When he heard the recording of her voice, his throat became parched. He hung up right after the beep, not leaving a message.