“Not tonight, Trace, but thanks for volunteering. Let’s get this info uploaded and call it a night.”
Danny was the first one over the edge, followed by T.J. Trace slipped his binoculars back into his front pocket. The Velcro opening made too much noise, and in the next instant, he froze.
One of the security detail had him nailed with a flashlight. Two other guards came up alongside them and began running in his direction, guns drawn.
“Stop!”
“Fuck,” Trace muttered.
“Give me the sign,” answered Armando.
“Hold it, Armani. Not yet.” Trace heard the tension in Kyle’s voice. But he knew it was the smart play not to go firing off rounds and causing a scene.
“They’re asking me to stand,” whispered Trace.
“You dumb sonofabitch. You got your wish. Now let’s see how you manage to get out of this one. Be cool, and for fuck’s sake, don’t lose your Invisio.” Kyle followed up his command with a string of swear words.
Trace stood, as he was told. He didn’t have anything but his dog tags and a wallet with little cash. He was grateful he didn’t have a firearm, but it made him feel naked.
It wasn’t the kind of naked he’d been looking forward to.
Chapter 23
Gretchen was served with papers just as she was getting ready to take the girls to school. The young process server with a knit cap had been waiting in the bushes, and as she loaded up the car and double-checked Angie’s seatbelt, he approached her from behind and scared her to death.
He ran down the long steep driveway and onto the street below, picking up a skateboard as his escape vehicle.
Gretchen wanted to look at the papers, but didn’t dare do so. She handed the bundle to Clover, sitting next to her.
“Put these in the glove box, please.”
“What is that?” asked Angie.
“A love letter from your father,” Gretchen spouted off. Then she apologized and corrected herself. “It’s something your dad and I are working out.”
Clover gave her a long, sad look and then turned to face the windshield. Her heavy blinking indicated she’d started to tear up.
Gretchen started the car, leaned over, and placed her hand on Clover’s sleeve. “Don’t worry. It’s all going to be okay. I promise.”
Clover didn’t return her gaze. She was stoic, her face slightly more pale than usual.
Hang in there, Clover. I’ve got the butterflies, too.
After dropping Clover and Rebecca at school, she took Angela to the church preschool, which started nearly an hour later. She was hoping they’d take her early.
“Sweetheart, Mommy’s got to make a phone call, so I’m going to drop you off early if someone’s there, okay?”
“No problem,” her meek little voice answered. Gretchen noted that even Angie was scared.
The school director’s car was in the parking lot, so Gretchen took Angie by the hand and entered through the back door. The church hallway was dark except for the warm, yellow light coming from the director’s office.
Though the door was ajar, she knocked anyway, holding Angela’s hand firmly.
“Connie?”
“Hi, Gretchen. You’re here very early.”
“Yeah, I know. Listen, I just got some bad news, and I need to take care of a couple things. Is it okay if I leave Angie here early?”
Connie smiled and held out her arms. “Of course you can leave this little munchkin here.” Angela ran to her arms and returned the hug.
“Thanks. I owe you, big time.”
“Well, I’ve got some paper and colored pens she can use while I get some planning done. You won’t be late to pickup, will you?”
“No, I’m going to have Carole come get her, or one of the other carpool moms, if I can. But either way, she’ll be picked up on time. Thanks a bunch.”
She kissed Angie and jogged to the car.
A shadow came from the bushes at the side of the old church and, before she reached the door handle, cut off her access.
It was Tony.
His hair was disheveled with several-day-old stubble on his chin, and his eyes were bloodshot. She could smell alcohol on his breath.
She took several steps backward until she stepped over a parking barrier and nearly tripped. Tony grabbed her by the coat lapel and pulled her toward him. His breath was foul.
“Let me go!” she said as she struggled.
“So you thought you’d be so smart, did you? Got your papers? See what happens when you try to fight me?”
“What are you saying?” She threw his arms to the side and off her coat.
“You little goodie two shoes. Miss perfect. You just thought you could take those girls away from me, didn’t you?”
“I’ve done no such thing. Tony, you’re drunk. You need to get hold of yourself, or I’ll call the police.”
“Right. And they’ll get great tickets to the next home game for their troubles. You can’t use me like that.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything like that.”
“Then why won’t you let them come live with me? You think my money isn’t as good as yours, huh? Or is it Joanie? You’re jealous.”
“Hardly. If she wants you, she can certainly have you. That’s not on my mind, Tony.”
His eyes glazed over for a couple of seconds, and Gretchen wondered if he was having a stroke. But he righted himself and seemed to not know where he was.
“Tony, you need to see a doctor.”
He laughed bitterly. “I already did. And I’m suspended for five days.”
“Sorry to hear that. Maybe you should go home, take care of yourself, and get some rest. I’m guessing that’s why they did it.”
She’d heard some talk on one of the sports recaps that Tony’s game had faltered recently. But she’d brushed it off as idle gossip.
Her ex grabbed her by the coat again and kissed her hard on the mouth. The sudden movement confused her. She twisted her head to the side and tried to fend off his determined kiss, but he was too strong for her. His left hand went inside her coat, feeling up her blouse while his other arm held her securely in place. His eyes were half-lidded and filled with lust.
“You remember I fucked you good. I was the best fuck of your life.”
Continuing to struggle, she tried to stomp on his foot and then kneed him in the groin. He doubled over in pain.
“You are an animal. Stay away from me.”
She got inside the car and locked it, turned on the ignition, and drove down the street. Checking her rearview mirror, she didn’t see that he followed her.
Her mind reeled from the encounter. She had to contact her mother, perhaps Tyler’s mother as well. And she had to contact the attorney and tell him about the papers.
Tears streamed down her face, and she felt her insides collapse. Tony had always been a butthead, a royal pain that she put up with because of the girls. But now he was scaring her. She recalled Joanie’s bruise and decided her first order of business was to report this encounter to the police. Something was very wrong.
“I want to report an assault,” she said to the woman behind the thick window at the police station.
The uniformed clerk pushed a clipboard with paperwork under the glass barrier. “Please fill this out and sign it. I’ll ask someone to come out and take your statement.”
Gretchen took the clipboard and looked it over.
“When did this happen?” the clerk asked. “You look a little upset. Did you just come from where this encounter?”
“Yes, I dropped my daughter off at preschool, and he came after me. He must have been waiting for me to show up.”
“Okay, well, you sit down, and I’ll have someone come out there right away. Are you injured in any way?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Is this person known to you?”
“Yes, he’s my ex-husband.”
“Has he ever done this
before?”
“Not since the divorce. But then, that’s partially why we divorced.”
“Why don’t you have a seat, ma’am? Just finish the paperwork, and I’ll get an officer to come out.”
The writing on the incident report was so small it was difficult to see. Her hands shook, and then she discovered her tears obscured the letters. Already several drops had fallen on the form, blurring her writing. She took several deep breaths and finished.
Slipping the clipboard under the Plexiglas barrier, she was asked to sit down again. Her mind reeled from everything that had happened today. She still hadn’t read over the summons, and she needed to call her mom.
Then she thought about Connie all alone at the preschool, and panic set in. She dialed the director’s cell number and didn’t get an answer.
She flew to the window, banging on the glass. “Please, please. I need to talk to someone right now!”
The clerk returned. “It will be just a few more minutes.”
“No, you don’t understand. He might be at my daughter’s school. He might try to kidnap her!”
The clerk said something in her shoulder microphone. A door at the side buzzed and opened wide enough to allow a uniformed officer to show himself. He asked her to come inside, and she was taken to an interview room.
“I don’t have your paperwork, but why don’t you calm down and tell me what this is all about?”
The clerk passed him the clipboard with Gretchen’s information about the incident.
He did have kind eyes, but they were unfamiliar. It stressed her out that she had to convince him she wasn’t crazy or imagining things.
“My ex-husband served me with what I think is custody papers this morning. I dropped my daughter off at her preschool, and he was waiting there, came running out from the bushes. It scared me to death. He was drunk, not like himself. And now I’m wondering if he went inside the school. I’m worried for my daughter. I need to check on her.”
The officer put wheels in motion quickly. “I’ll take you as soon as I get my partner. Be right back.
He closed the door behind him, and Gretchen wanted to bolt. Too much time had passed by.
The officer returned with his female partner, and the three of them left the station, Gretchen in the back seat of the police cruiser. She gave them directions, and while on the way, his partner asked her about her ex, wondering if this was chronic or a habit.
Gretchen told her about the bruises on Joanie’s neck.
When they arrived at the church, Gretchen ran from the car, through the rear door, and down the hallway. This time, children were hanging up coats and pairs of parents stood by or hugged their children good-bye. The police were not far behind. The group of parents and children clustered in groups, and the hallway started buzzing with concern and whispers.
When Gretchen got to the door of the director’s office, it was vacant.
“She’s gone! The director’s gone. My daughter isn’t here!”
“Excuse me. Officers, can I help you?” Connie’s voice boomed from the end of the hallway near one of the classrooms.
“Ma’am, we’ve had a complaint of a harassing father—” She looked to her partner, who stepped forward.
“We’ve been told to come check on this woman’s daughter. She’s afraid she is in danger.”
Gretchen passed him by on her way to the director. “Connie, Tony assaulted me in the parking lot. Is Angie here? He didn’t take her, did he?”
The woman hesitated at first then eyed both the police officers. “She’s fine. She’s right here, if you need to see her.” She motioned to the classroom. Her expression showed worry and confusion. “Angie, Mommy’s here.”
“Goody!” she heard her daughter say before she came running and hugged her legs. “Are you going to go to school with me today?”
Gretchen broke down in tears. She’d made a complete fool of herself. Kneeling down, she hugged Angela, sobbing.
“What’s wrong?” Angie asked.
“Mommy’s fine. I just got worried, that’s all.” She released her daughter and then spoke to the director. “Did Tony come by after I left?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I haven’t seen Tony in several weeks.”
Gretchen knew all the way back to the station that she’d overreacted, but she justified it because of her fear for her daughter’s safety. But even she had to admit to the officers that Tony, while he’d shown increasing anger toward her, had never shown it to the kids.
Her apologies were accepted. They recommended she get some help figuring out all the legal issues she would now be facing, and when she asked them about the assault charges, she was given another longer form, asked to go home and fill it out, and drop it off to the station or mail it in.
Armed with her collection of brochures on child abuse, divorce with children, and spousal abuse, as well as the adult version Incident Report, she returned to her car, sat down, put her head on the steering wheel over her hands, and cried.
Chapter 24
The beauty of the Invisios the Team used was that they were so small, no one could tell they were being worn. Trace had put his so far inside his ear canal he was beginning to wonder if he’d be able to get it out afterwards. That happened occasionally to guys. The little microphone worked off the bone structures in the inner ear, so the quality of the sound was nearly as good as the quality of hearing the owner had.
This meant just about everything going on around him, being said to him face-to-face, could be picked up by the Team, unless he were more than a thousand yards away. He wasn’t quite sure if the metal hull of the ship would block a signal, but guessed it would interfere. So he whispered, as if talking to himself, making like he was drunk and perhaps a bit crazy, which might lessen the guard’s attention. He had no idea what he was going to tell them.
The guards nudged him over to the tiny terminal about the size of an outhouse at the end of the gangway. He was frisked and cuffed, chained to a metal awning pole.
“So, mon, you no can go here without permission.” He held up Trace’s wallet and pulled out all his cash, a whopping forty US. “Dis,” he said as he waved the cash in the air, “is not permission.” The dark-skinned man was missing every other tooth. His face was leathery and wrinkled like a prune. His eyes looked mean and extremely nasty.
“I apologize,” Trace started to say.
“Where you from?”
“C-California. Look, fellas, I don’t want any trouble.”
“Oh, mon, trouble is what you got big time.”
One of the other guards, who fit the description of a muffin top if there ever was one, chuckled, his belly rippling over his belt. He chewed on a toothpick calmly while Trace squirmed.
It wasn’t hard to act scared. He’d fucked up and gotten himself caught.
“What’s a California man doing here on God’s Island?”
“I was drinking last night downtown—”
“What town is that?” The guard turned to his two buddies. “You know a place called downtown?”
They both shrugged, and Mr. Pruneface aimed his beady eyes back on Trace.
“Fredricksburg or something like that.”
“Ah, he was in Fred’s town. Dat town.”
The other two guards nodded wisely and said, “Ah,” in unison.
Trace waited for further instructions. Finally, the guard poked him with his forefinger. “Talk. You were drinking, and—?”
“I overheard a conversation about this ship, the Emily, or Amily or something. They told me it would be coming in at midnight. Said it was tons of fun.”
“Except it’s for club members only, Mr. California. You got to pay the dues first. Not for free.”
“Well, that’s why I climbed the pier. I was hoping to bypass that ticket taker down there. Thought my forty bucks would get me in.”
“No, my man. Your forty bucks makes sure you stay out. You go to jail, mon. This is breaking and entering. Ever heard
of dat?”
Trace knew he was just messing with him.
“I get paid on Friday. I’ll have more cash then. Can I get a temporary loan?”
That brought down the house in raucous laughter. He saw passengers on board turn and look in his direction.
“Dis guy. Dis guy is a funny man. What do you do, Mr. California?”
“I’m in the Navy. I’m a Seabee.”
“A what?”
“A Seabee. We build things for the Navy. Like a contractor.”
“And what are you building on our God’s island?”
“It’s a campground.”
“Nobody goes camping on our island. This isn’t California.”
“I realize that. It’s a US government facility. We’re building toilets and little cabins, restoring the old church.”
“Sounds like the Peace Corps. You in the Peace Corps, Mr. California?”
“No, sir, I told you. I’m employed by the Navy.”
The head guard considered his options. Trace thought perhaps he could confuse him a bit before he made up his mind. Either way it went, whatever he would decide wouldn’t be good for Trace, so he tried to take a little control.
“Look, man. I’ll come back tomorrow night. I’ll even bring some buddies. How’s that? And we’ll bring more money this time. We’re just here to have a good time. Meet some girls. You know, get a little, you know. We’re not here to hurt anyone. But if I wind up missing, the Navy will come looking for me.”
“You wouldn’t be the first sailor who got lost on our island. What you don’t want is to get yourself disappeared.”
The guard walked around Trace, studying his clothes, his shoes, looking for a watch or ring, something obviously worth something he could steal. Trace’s bladder almost gave out when the guard examined his earlobes for evidence of an earring. He missed the Invisio.
“Well, I’m afraid, son, you’ve got bad luck, and we don’t let anyone on the ship with bad luck. We are leaving before the sun comes up and headed to another island. So I’m afraid your buddies won’t be able to visit this place. But we’ll be back. How long will you be here?”
SEAL My Love: A SEAL Brotherhood Novel Page 15