Fortunately, it came furnished, including a room set up for a baby. Anderson owed Rogers an enormous debt of gratitude, probably one too big to ever repay. After getting Nate in bed, Anderson and Violet had both collapsed on the couch and nearly fallen asleep leaning against each other. He’d insisted she take the only bedroom that was made up. He’d stayed on the couch, which was more comfortable than the floor he’d slept on the night before.
He’d just closed his eyes again, hoping to drift back to sleep, when the scrape of a shoe on concrete had everything in him going tense. Someone was outside the Cape Cod–style home. He’d done a circuit of the house in the dark the night before. His understanding of the property wasn’t perfect, but his hearing had never been faulty.
Another whisper of sound and then low voices came from outside the front door. He grabbed the gun he’d kept handy during the night and silently rose from the couch to approach the door. A window of beveled glass bordered it. Keeping clear of that, he moved to where another window gave him a view of the front steps. He twitched back the curtains and saw two dark figures bent over in the pale morning light.
What the hell kind of a safe house was this? Was it already compromised?
He watched for another minute, but he couldn’t see any weapons. Might as well confront this head-on.
He whipped open the front door and came face-to-face with two women who looked to be in their fifties. They stared at him, eyes wide, and he quickly assessed the threat. They wore fancy warm-up outfits and looked as though they were off to the tennis courts at the local country club. Not what he’d expected. He glanced behind them, fearing they were a front for something more nefarious, but he saw nothing to concern him.
“Oh… sorry,” he said when one of the women dropped her gaze to the gun he held. He quickly stashed it on a shelf out of sight. Then he realized they were staring at his bare chest. He’d slept in only athletic shorts. Anderson wasn’t tatted up like many of his fellow SEALs, but he had scars from injuries he’d sustained on missions. The women were staring at one that cut a jagged line down his torso. Not making the right kind of impression on the neighbors, he realized, if that’s who these women were.
“Um… hi,” the taller of the two women said, bringing her gaze up to his face. “I’m Evie Walker, and this is Kelly Sams. We thought you’d like some cinnamon buns.”
Anderson glanced down to see a tray of pastries sitting on the steps. That explained the crouched figures, he guessed.
“And coffee,” Kelly said, indicating the thermos. “We thought you probably didn’t have time to unpack yet, since you arrived so late. I can never get going in the morning without a strong cup of coffee.”
He stared at the women, trying to look unthreatening, but his senses were still on alert. These strangers seemed to know when he and Violet had arrived. Were they already being watched?
“I live just over there,” Kelly said, pointing behind them, “and we were up late bingeing The Crown and drinking a bottle of wine when we saw you pull in. Here, it’s in the note.” She nervously thrust a piece of paper at Anderson. He flipped it open and scanned the words, which ended with, “Welcome to the neighborhood. Enjoy breakfast.”
“Thanks,” he said, trying to decide if these two were for real. This was a bit Stepford Wives for him. He glanced down the street, where lights were coming on in other houses. A couple of people were hitting the streets for early-morning exercise. It seemed like a normal place. Not that he’d ever lived in suburbia, but it looked just how suburbs were portrayed in the movies.
“We thought that there was nothing like a warm breakfast to ease a move,” Evie said, retrieving the cinnamon rolls from the step. “Moving is so hard.”
“My mother’s recipe. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t like it,” Kelly added as she peeked around him, trying to see farther into the house. “This place has sat empty for almost six months. The last people moved out overnight, and we never heard what happened to them. We hope you and your family will be more a part of the community.”
Anderson had no idea how to respond to that. Evie and Kelly were either great liars or unaware that the place was a safe house where all the residents were likely to be transient. And Anderson had no plans to join in community events, whatever those might be. He’d grown up in a mobile home. There’d been other trailers within ten feet, but it had never been a neighborhood. Even the city had viewed it as an eyesore, and shortly after Anderson left for basic training, some kind of rezoning had gone through that allowed them to move everyone out and build a condo complex on the site. He hadn’t been the least bit sorry to see the place erased, but the reality was that—with that as his only background—he lacked the skills needed to react to neighborly overtures.
He should say something, but words failed him. He was opening his mouth to force out a thank you when he felt a warm hand on his back. Violet was up. He glanced at her, feeling overwhelming gratitude for her being there to greet the neighbors. She was smiling at the women as if she was delighted to meet them. With Nate curled into her side, his thumb stuck in his mouth, she looked the image of a carefree young mother.
“You should have come got me, honey. I didn’t know we had company. Good morning,” she said to Kelly and Evie as if she found strangers on her doorstep every day. “How sweet of you to bring us a treat. These smell delicious. And coffee, too. So thoughtful of you. I’m Violet, and this is my husband Anderson.”
When they’d arrived late the night before, they’d found an envelope containing new identities and credit cards waiting for them on the dining room table. Rogers’s firm had wisely kept their first names and altered the surnames, making it less likely that either of them would misspeak.
“And who is this little guy?” Kelly asked as Violet handed Nate to Anderson.
Anderson was happy that he was getting better at holding the boy. He’d lost the awkward sensation he’d had the first few times and was able to cuddle Nate to his chest in a way that he hoped looked natural.
“Aww…” Evie sighed, her eyes fixed on Nate and Anderson. “He’s so precious.”
“This is our son, Nate,” Violet said. Her arm went around Anderson’s waist, supporting the pretense that they were a happy couple.
“How old is he? Oh, he’s just adorable,” Kelly gushed, reaching out to tickle the baby’s feet.
“Five months,” Violet answered with a smile.
When Evie tried to stroke Nate’s cheek, Anderson instinctively took a half step back. The women probably meant no harm, but they were still unknown. And he protected what was his.
How had Nate suddenly been put in that category? Anderson pulled his attention back to the conversation. He couldn’t afford to get distracted.
“He’s getting to that age where he’s nervous around strangers,” Violet was explaining, “and we don’t want to upset him today. Yesterday was…” She left the sentence unfinished, allowing the women to fill in the details.
“Oh, yes, moving is so hard on everyone, especially babies,” Kelly said immediately. “We understand. Welcome to the neighborhood.”
“Thank you.” Violet smiled at them. “I’m sure in a few days, when we’re settled in, Nate’ll be ready for company.” She took the coffee and cinnamon rolls from them and said goodbye.
“Unexpected,” Anderson commented as soon as he’d closed the door.
“Yes,” Violet agreed. “It’s not even seven in the morning. What kind of neighborhood is this?”
“I don’t know, but you bought us at least a few days’ peace. Good thinking, using Nate as an excuse.”
Violet flashed him a smile that made him remember why he’d been so attracted to her in Moscow. “One of the perks of parenthood. A baby can always be used to get out of sticky situations.”
“Let’s hope that continues to be true,” he said, following her through the house to the kitchen, still feeling unsettled about the visit. He wasn’t used to people being friendly and welcoming. Maybe
they were harmless, but it worried him. “I’m going to take a look at the house’s defenses.” They’d entered by using a pass code Rogers had texted to him, but that didn’t seem like enough of a barrier.
“Does something have you worried?” Violet asked, taking Nate from him when the baby reached out for her.
“Nothing in particular, just being cautious.”
“Can’t fault you there,” she said with another smile that made his heart almost stop. “But let’s eat first. These do smell delicious.” She pointed to the cinnamon rolls she’d placed on the counter. Keeping Nate perfectly balanced, she located plates and coffee mugs in the cabinets. “Everything we need.”
It seemed as if that were true, but he didn’t want to get too comfortable. That led to complacency, which would be dangerous for all of them. After breakfast, he’d complete a thorough risk analysis of the house, yard, and neighborhood. He could bet that Rogers’s firm had already done so, but he’d never been one to rely on someone else’s work.
If he found any gaps in the security, he’d make sure they were plugged right away.
7
Anderson settled onto the couch next to Violet and waited for the video image to come up on the laptop. They were going to talk to Rogers and begin the process of sorting out their situation. Nate reached out to grab Anderson’s arm, leaving a trail of water on his skin. The boy sat on Violet’s lap, drooling and chewing on a plastic ring.
“He’s teething,” Violet explained, using a washcloth to wipe the drips from Nate’s chin.
“So that makes him a leaky faucet.” Anderson was adjusting to being around a baby, but it was new territory. The day before, he had nervously watched over a napping Nate while Violet ran to a store to purchase groceries and baby supplies. She’d returned with countless bags of stuff that she’d stowed away in the safe house’s closets and cabinets. Violet was organized, which he appreciated.
“According to the books and my mom, yes,” she said. “We can expect this to continue for a while.”
“Great,” Anderson muttered, and she bumped her knee against his.
“It’s what babies do.” She gave him a pointed look.
“If you say so,” he said as Rogers appeared on the screen. It had been five years since he’d seen Lt. Commander Dan Rogers, but he hadn’t changed. His hair was a bit grayer, but his eyes were still the piercing blue Anderson remembered from his early days as a SEAL. He’d been assigned to Rogers’s team, and the older man had put him through his paces. Even now, he felt the urge to stand and salute.
“Good to see you, Anderson,” Rogers began.
“Thank you, sir. Good to see you as well. I appreciate your help.”
“I never turn down a fellow SEAL in need.” Rogers shifted his attention to Violet. “This must be Violet DiPaula.”
“Commander Rogers. It’s nice to meet you,” Violet said, giving his former CO a smile. “Thank you for finding us a place to stay.”
“Not a problem,” Rogers replied. “I’ve read the report my associate put together, but suppose you tell me everything, from your time together in Russia to now.”
Over the next thirty minutes, Anderson and Violet took turns explaining their mission, the security breach at Violet’s agency, the threats against her, and the attack that made them go on the run. Rogers nodded and asked pertinent questions several times.
“That jibes with everything I could learn,” Rogers said when they finished. “My concern is that the breach wasn’t fully plugged, which may have been intentional.”
“What?” Anderson said, shooting Violet a look. She seemed unsurprised by this bit of information. An intentional security leak? What kind of fool would allow that?
She shrugged. “It happens in intelligence work. Sometimes we leave an avenue open to see where it leads.”
“As far as I can tell, that’s what’s happened,” Rogers confirmed. “Which means neither of you can log into any systems you may have access to. Everything you do there might be traced and lead the bad guys directly to you.”
“That’s what I expected.” Violet shifted Nate on her lap, deftly trading the ring for another toy.
“So you’ve got to sit tight for now and let us work. As soon as I have something to share, I’ll get it to you in either encrypted files or some kind of drop. Whichever seems safest.”
“I appreciate that, sir,” Anderson said.
“I’ll be in contact.” Rogers signed off the call, and the room was silent for a moment.
“There’s really nothing we can do?” Anderson asked. He hated sitting around and waiting for something to happen. He was much more the type to go make it happen, to force a situation along. And, frankly, he was bored. In the two days they’d been in the safe house, he’d learned every inch of the structure and yard, including anything he perceived as a weak spot in the home’s defense. He’d adjusted camera angles on the security system and run diagnostics. He’d been hoping the meeting with Rogers would give him a direction to follow.
“Not nothing,” Violet said, rising to her feet with the baby in her arms. “We need to make dinner, and I’ll cut you a deal. I’ll cook if you entertain this guy.” She tapped Nate on the nose, making him giggle.
Anderson hesitated. Over the past two days, he’d learned that babies ran on a type of cycle. The sequence varied some, but it included five basic elements: eat, poop, play, cry, nap. Crying had been at a minimum since they’d arrived, thankfully, but the other four behaviors drove the day’s schedule. Anderson had gotten more comfortable with caring for Nate, even managing to change a poopy diaper while Violet was in the shower. He’d viewed it as a task that had to be completed, which would have been great if Nate hadn’t viewed his time on the changing pad as an opportunity to thrash his legs and squirm. Even with that, Anderson had accomplished the task without incident. It was a positive, a win.
“You can do this,” Violet said. “I’ll be one room away. If you like, we can set up a code word you can yell if you need help.” He didn’t remember her teasing him this way when they’d worked together in Moscow. That had been all business and tension. Having a kid with someone sure did change the dynamics.
“What are you thinking for dinner?” he asked.
“Chicken Florentine over wild rice. I might even whip up a dessert.”
“Here.” Anderson reached for his son. “I’ll take him.” His mouth was already watering at the thought of the meal. He could manage solo care of Nate with good food as a reward.
Violet kissed Nate’s forehead and set him on Anderson’s lap before heading to the kitchen.
“Just us, kid. You’ve got to promise to be good,” Anderson said.
Nate gave him a gummy grin and babbled incoherently. At least he didn’t cry when his mother walked away. That was a plus. Anderson transferred the baby to the blanket spread on the living room floor, using a special pillow to prop him up. Violet had a name for the doughnut-shaped pillow, but he couldn’t remember what it was.
Anderson pulled the basket of toys closer and found a ball. He handed it to Nate, who rubbed the ball over his face before tossing it aside. Anderson retrieved the ball and returned it to Nate, who repeated his action.
“Okay, not a ball day. Let’s try something else.” Anderson dug three cups that nested inside each other from the basket. “Check these out, buddy.” He showed the baby how the cups could go together or separate and gave Nate two of them to play with. Nate banged them against each other, and Anderson winced at the noise. “Not their intended use.”
When Anderson tried to take the cups from the boy’s hands, Nate’s lower lip stuck out, a look Anderson already recognized as the precursor to a crying fit. Anderson hastily released the cups. “God, I wish you could talk,” he said. “That would make this easier.” Nate clanked the cups together again and giggled.
“Yeah, that’s funny for you, but I’m lost.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Sh—oot, I speak seven languages, and I can’t communicate
with my own kid.” Anderson eyed the boy. “Maybe there’s another way.” During some of his online research about babies over the past few days, Anderson had come upon an article about teaching sign language to kids. The article had been focused on toddlers, but it was worth a try. “Okay, stay with me.”
Anderson signed “hello” several times by moving his hand to his head in a salute-like gesture. Nate watched, rocking back and forth against his pillow, but made no attempt to imitate the motion. “Let’s try another one. How about “yes”?” Anderson closed his fist and tipped it forward and back, but to no avail. At least he was entertaining Nate, who was happily watching him. “I think you’re enjoying my parental struggles. I thought only teenagers did that.”
Anderson took a minute to reevaluate. “Maybe if I help you.” He took the baby’s hands in his and tried to move his fingers to create the words. “See, you have to bend all your fingers.” Anderson was careful to keep his touch gentle as he manipulated the boy’s hands. “Okay, that’s better.” He released Nate’s hands after getting his fingers in the correct position. “You try it.” Anderson leaned closer, hoping his teaching had taken root, but Nate just wiggled his hands in Anderson’s face and laughed. Anderson couldn’t help his smile. “Okay, I admit defeat. You’re too young.”
“Too young for what?” Violet asked from the doorway that led to the kitchen.
Anderson felt his face turn hot. He hadn’t expected an audience. “I was trying to teach him sign language. I thought it might bridge the communication gap, but it’s not working.” He pulled Nate into his lap and leaned back against the couch.
“He’ll get it eventually. You should keep trying.”
As she looked at him, the meaning of her words sank in for both of them. Anderson wasn’t going to be around “eventually.” If they weren’t in this situation, Anderson would have nothing to do with either of them.
“Maybe you could teach me,” she suggested, breaking the unspoken tension, “and I’ll share the knowledge with him when he’s older.” She plopped down opposite Anderson. “We’ve got a little time before dinner’s ready.”
The SEAL’s Surprise Baby: Hartsville’s SEAL Heroes Book Two Page 5