Texas Marine Mayhemn

by Cynthia D'Alba

  Craig allowed her to lead him back to the table. He sat.

  She took the chair next to his. She squeezed his hand and then released it, pulled her own hands back into her lap.

  He immediately missed the comfort of her touch.

  “Look, Mr. Devlin, we’re in the process of putting all the pieces together,” the FBI agent said. “You can help with that. How did you end up renting April Young’s grandparents’ house?”

  “My agent, Dave Moore, found it. Told me he’d found a great house in a quiet town. He assured me I should be able to catch up.” He looked at the federal agent. “I’m behind schedule on my last book, which takes place in Big Branch. Dave thought if I was in the same area during the writing that I’d produce more words a day. The book is based on actual events that took place here about a year ago. He also arranged for me to meet with the book’s main characters.”

  “Do you have any idea how your agent found this particular house?” Freeman asked.

  “No clue. You’d have to ask him.”

  “We’d love to, but he seems to have disappeared. When did you last talk to or see him?” The FBI agent posed his pen over his notebook.

  Craig stiffened. “What? Dave’s missing?”

  “Missing in so far as he hasn’t been to work in two weeks and no one has heard from him.”

  “What about his wife, Martha?” Craig chewed on a fingernail.” Have you talked to her? You’re the FBI. Have you pinged his cell phone?” Dave wasn’t the type to go off the radar. Sometimes, Craig used to joke that Dave should have a cell phone surgically implanted. He was never without.

  “We talked to his wife. She reported him missing when he didn’t come back from a business trip. She went to the airport to pick him up and he wasn’t on the plane. He hasn’t been seen since stepping on a plane to New Orleans two weeks ago.” Freeman leaned toward him. “So, once again, when did you last see or talk to him?”

  Vanessa laced her fingers through his and gave him a gentle squeeze.

  “I don’t know. Let me think. I don’t talk to him that often.” He released Vanessa’s hand and rubbed his forehead as he thought. “Let’s see. I’ve been here about three weeks. I guess I talked to him the day I arrived to let him know that the place was great. That’s it. It’s not like I talk to him often, only when we have specific business to discuss. I mean, we aren’t close friends, just business associates.” He rapped his fingers on the table and frowned. “Why did he go to New Orleans? As far as I can remember, there hasn’t been a writers’ conference there lately.”

  “We don’t know,” Freeman replied. “His wife didn’t know. He told her he some business to take care of. Since he traveled a lot to publishing conferences and had meetings with editors and publishing houses, his wife said she stopped trying to remember what he was doing during each trip. She only noted where he went and when he would be home.”

  “Dave missing. Knue shot. Someone trying to shoot me last night. This is crazy,” he muttered under his breath. “What about New Orleans? Did you find any leads there?”

  “Mr. Devlin. Let’s go back to April Young. You said she propositioned you and you turned her down.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Was she mad?” Freeman jotted a note in his flip pad.

  “I don’t know, but maybe. Like I told you, she could get testy when things didn’t go her way and what person enjoys rejection?”

  “But she was pretty,” the agent said.

  “Yes. I told you that but…” He looked Vanessa. “I didn’t touch her.”

  “Why not?” Freeman demanded. “She was of age, attractive, will to do anything. Why not take her up on it?”

  “Besides her being my student, I couldn’t. I’m married.”

  Silence filled the kitchen. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Vanessa. She’d never understand.

  There was a screech of chair legs on the floor. “If you don’t need me, I have a few things to do,” Vanessa said.

  Hank pointed toward Vanessa. “I’ll check with you before we leave.”

  “What time’s your flight?” she asked.

  “We’re on the company jet, so we’re on our own schedule.”

  “Okay.” Her footsteps were heavy as she marched from the room.

  “Thanks, guys,” Craig said. “Way to fuck up my life.” He dragged his fingers through his hair.

  “Sorry,” Hank said, “but she deserves to know the truth.”

  “And I plan to tell her. I was just working my way up to it.”

  “Yes, we noticed how you’re working on it.” Hank gave him a smirk.

  “Mr. Devlin, let’s get finished here and then you can see if you can fix what you broke.”

  “I broke?” Craig said with a snarl. “You two fuckers storm in early this morning, accuse me of having an affair with a student, wondering if I had something to do with my missing agent, and now you’ve screwed with my marriage. Thanks ever so much.”

  “Craig,” Hank said. “I know all the questions are hard and even embarrassing, but the sooner we get to the bottom of what’s happening, the sooner you’ll have your life back.”

  “Let me ask you something,” Craig said to Freeman. He leaned toward the bigger man and glared. “You knew before you got here that I hadn’t sleep with April Young, didn’t you?”

  The agent gave him a cold stare but said nothing.

  “And since I’ve been here three weeks, I was probably already here when Knue was killed, right?”

  Again, his answer was a cold stare.

  “And I didn’t pick this house. My agent did, my now missing agent, so you can’t confirm that part of the story. So, exactly what do you want from me?”

  “We don’t want you to get killed,” Freeman finally said.

  Freeman serious stare was a slap of reality to Craig, He slumped and released a long breath. “You’re thinking that’s a real possibility?”

  “We do.”

  “April Young wants to kill me because I wouldn’t have sex with her.”

  “And you refused to help her get published. A vengeful woman is a determined woman,” Hank said.

  “So what now?”

  “We’ve notified Sheriff Shade Gruber. He’ll have his deputies do more frequent drive-bys. He offered to station a couple of people inside the house but we assured him we had that covered with Ms. Britt’s presence.” Freeman looked at the door where Vanessa had stormed from the room. With an arched brow, he asked, “We do, don’t we?”

  “I hope so,” Craig said. “Do you have any idea where my agent is?”

  “We’ve traced him to a hotel in New Orleans Garden District. He was there with a beautiful, younger woman.”

  “April Young?” He straightens.

  “We aren’t sure, but that’s where my money is,” Freeman said.

  “Damn. April and Dave? An affair? I hope you’re wrong. That would kill his wife.”

  “If you think of anything, hear anything, or if April or Dave contact you, call me.” The agent pulled a business card from his pocket and laid it in front of Craig. “Be on the alert, and don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Like distracting your bodyguard by sleeping with her,” Hank said, his eyes blazed with a glare.. Hank handed Craig a card. “And if you can’t keep your hands off her, call me. I’ll send another Brotherhood Protectors agent to take her place. A male.”

  “Fuck you, Patterson,” Craig snapped. “She isn’t leaving.”

  “Remember what I said,” Freeman said, rising to his feet. “Anything happens, you call me.”

  “Got it.”

  Hank Patterson looked at the FBI man. “I need to check with my agent-of-record before we leave.”

  “No problem,” Freeman said. “I’ll wait in the living room.” He extended his hand to Craig. “Good luck, Mr. Devlin. I’m a fan, so keep writing.”

  Craig stayed in the kitchen until he heard the two men leave, then he headed upstairs to make things right with
Nessie, or at least, as right as he could.

  April Young finished cleaning her Glock and reloaded it. Time to finish this. She wished this project had gone better. She and Dr. Devlin would have made an excellent writing team. Even his agent agreed, but then Dave would have agreed to pretty much anything she asked. Men were like that when you had their cocks down your throat.

  She chuckled at the memory.

  She was going to miss that man. She wondered if anyone would find any pieces of his body. Alligators did good clean-up work—that fact was for sure.

  Mrs. Johnson, or rather her handyman, had done an adequate job keeping her old house standing. Last time April was home, she’d visited the old woman and found the underground passage to her grandparents’ old place still accessible. She’d hoped Mrs. Johnson, or someone in her family, hadn’t closed it off permanently.

  Her sister had talked about closing it for security reasons. Deloris always made plans but, unlike April, DD rarely showed the motivation to follow through.

  April had to make her move tonight. With Deloris gone on an overnight business trip and Mrs. Johnson down for the count by seven, fate had handed April the perfect opportunity to make her move.

  After dark, she slipped over to the Johnson place and let herself in with the key she’d copied. She flipped on the basement lights. Florescent bulbs flickered, hummed, and came to life. She hurried down the stairs and found the door to the tunnel, just like she’d found it four months ago.

  Project revenge was a go for tonight.

  Chapter Five

  Vanessa was beyond irate. She wasn’t sure how to describe what she felt. Nuclear anger? Volcanic fury? Homicidal rage?

  Black widow spiders had it right. Have sex with your mate and then eat him. Problem solved.

  She jammed another bra into her duffle.

  Damn him. Married! All those pretty words he’d be spouting since she’d been there. How beautiful she was. How much he missed her. How much he wanted her. How could he have done that?

  Now that she thought about—she crammed a pair of jeans in next to the bra—he hadn’t said a thing about love. Everything was need, want, or desire.

  He hadn’t changed a lick. He was the center of his world. Everyone around him was supposed to supply what he needed or wanted. Who gave a shit what they needed.

  And why was she packing? Hank asked her to stay a couple of more days and she’d agreed. He promised he’d have someone else free to take her place by then.

  She pulled out her jeans and folded them into a neat pile. In the next instance, she threw them across the room. “Fuck him,” she screamed at the walls.

  Fine. Fine. She’d stay, but only for forty-eight hours and her ex-husband had better stay a minimum of ten feet away. Otherwise, she wasn’t responsible for her actions.

  She whirled around and sat on her bed. How did she end up in this situation? She’d been so smart about guys since the divorce. Her heart had been totally intact until now. No one had gotten through her perimeter. She dropped her head into her hands and stared at the floor.

  “Don’t cry,” Craig said from the doorway.

  She jerked up her head and glared. “I’m not crying, you asshole. I’m thinking of all the ways to dismember you. I’m starting with your cock since that seems to be where your brain is.”

  He gave her a nervous chuckle and leaned against the doorframe. “This wasn’t how I was going to tell you this.”

  “Yeah?” she interrupted. “You could be wearing a wedding ring for one thing. And for another, you had plenty of time of ooze charm all over me. Maybe you should have coughed off that little piece of information too.” She broke the stare and looked away. She swallowed against the rock in the throat. “How long have you been married? Do I know her?”

  “I’ve been married since I was twenty-one. Our twenty-year anniversary is in November and yes, you know her.”

  His words confused her. They’d been married at twenty-one in November but….

  “I don’t understand.” Her brain was in a whirl, along with her stomach. She frowned. “We’re divorced. We got divorced ten years ago.”

  He straightened off the doorframe and rubbed his neck. “See, um, I kind of didn’t sign those papers?”

  An electrical shock stunned her. “What? How could you not sign them? And why didn’t my lawyer tell me?”

  He sighed. “It’s a tad complicated and maybe long to explain.”

  She scooted up on her bed until her back rested on the headboard. “I’m comfortable, so go.”

  He blew out a long breath. “You were overseas. Your lawyer was in Florida. My lawyer was in New York.”

  She fought to keep her voice calm, as opposed to screaming, which is what she really wanted to do. “So far, I’m following. I knew all that.”

  “For some reason, you used a lawyer in solo practice. He had a heart attack after sending the divorce papers to you to sign. Sadly he died. From what my lawyer told me, the office files were in disarray. Papers out into wrong files. A computer that had to be ten years old with every program out of date. He had no will, and no plan of succession should he die.”

  She bent her knees and pulled her legs up to her chest. “But, but…he was young, like thirty-five or something. How could he had a heart attack?”

  “It happens. I’m sure he didn’t think he would die so young either.” He flipped his hand in air. “All that doesn’t matter. What does matter is that your case was one of the ones that fell through the cracks.”

  “I signed our divorce papers,” she declared. “I know I did. Signed and mailed back.”

  “I didn’t,” he said. “I told my lawyer we’d called off the divorce, which was fine with him as he got paid one way or the other.”

  “How could you do that to me? What the hell were you thinking?” She shut her eyes and rubbed them. “What if I had fallen in love with someone else and got married? I’d be a bigamist.”

  He walked over to the bed and looked at her. “I wasn’t going to let that happen.” He held up one finger. “First, you love me. Always have. Always will.” He held up a second finger. “Second, you would have had to produce your divorce papers to get a marriage license. The whole story would have come out then.” He leaned over her. “And third, you love me.”

  “I am so, so mad right now.” She sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. She balled up a fist and slugged him, catching his left cheek and chin with a full hit.

  “Ouch.” He rubbed the area she hit.

  “How dare you make that decision for me? I asked for the divorce because I wanted a divorce. You don’t have the right to decide, ‘Nope. Not doing it. She won’t mind.’” She pointed toward the door. “Get out. Go anywhere, but near me.”

  When he opened his mouth, she added, “And don’t take one step out of this house. Hank is sending my replacement in a couple days. Until then, don’t talk to me except when necessary. Don’t touch me. In fact, don’t even look at me.”

  He nodded. “I understand.” He backed toward the door. “You need some time to process all this.”

  “Get out!” she shouted. She jumped from the bed and raced toward him. She shoved him backwards into the hall and slammed the door. “And stay out!” she shouted through the wood.

  Falling face first on the bed, she screamed into her pillow clever things like, “Dirty, rotten bastard,” and “Fucking asshole.”

  And then the worst thing in the world happened. She cried.

  Damnit.

  Marines don’t cry.

  Ever!

  Craig faced Vanessa’s door, his hands flat on the wood, his forehead resting between his hands. Should he apologize again? Maybe order some flowers to be delivered?

  Probably not flowers. He’d end up either wearing them or being force-fed them.

  He spun on his heel and went downstairs. This disaster was his brother’s fault. He could help him figure out what to do.

  Mike answered on the second right. “Yel
-low?” he said through the phone’s speaker. His voice shot into quiet void of the living room.

  “I hate you,” Craig growled.

  “Ah. She found out, huh? Good. This non-divorce has gone on long enough. Too long, actually. She deserved to know the truth.”

  “Even if you’re right, it was my business what and when to tell her.”

  “And you’re my little brother who’s not getting any younger. You don’t want to end up old and alone.”

  “I wouldn’t have,” he insisted. He walked over to the window to look over the front yard. “She would have come back.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Did you know, did you even think, that she has a boyfriend in Montana? What if she’s in love with him? What then? What if she’s planned the rest of her life with him? This farce needed to end, little brother.”

  Craig dropped onto the couch and set the phone on the arm. Vanessa was with someone else? Sweltering heat overwhelmed him and he fought the accompanying nausea. “She has a boyfriend?” he asked into the phone’s speaker.

  His brother chuckled. “Well, at your age, boyfriend seems a tad juvenile. But Nessie does see a man there on a regular basis.”

  “Who?”

  “Another protector at the same company. Name’s Dillion something. Collins, maybe? Covey? Something like that. All I know is what Hank Patterson told me while we were waiting to speak with Vanessa.”

  His hands fisted. His knees bounced with nervous energy. “How old is he? What does he look like? Was he in the Marines too?”

  “I don’t know. I swear. That isn’t even the point. The point is that she moved on with her life, and now you’ve jerked her to a halt. How mad is she?”

  “On a scale from one to ten? About a fifteen. She’s in her room upstairs.”

  Mike Devlin was quiet for a minute. “I’m sorry she’s upset, but the job is to keep you safe. If she can’t do that, and being locked in her room suggests she can’t, then Hank will have to get a replacement there ASAP.”

  “I can do my job,” Vanessa said from the hallway. “You don’t have to worry, Mike.”

  “Nessie,” Mike said. “I’m sorry. My brother has made some bonehead decisions in his life, but this one may be his crowning glory.”