Safe Mode: Deep Six Security Series Book 4

by Becky McGraw

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, his abs clenching as his hands tightened on the wheel.

  “She says we should have butter pecan too…” Her voice broke and her eyes watered. “Be—be-cause that was her m-om’s—fav-f—ah, Christ,” she finished on a whimper.

  “Tell her we will definitely have butter pecan too, to remember her mom, then. And Grace?” Their eyes met in the mirror.

  “Yes?” she replied, with a deep, shuddering sigh.

  “She’s smiling now—so keep it that way. It’s a fond memory for her, so let’s keep those rolling. It will probably help her.”

  Grace nodded and moved over a little, to turn and smile at Callie. She started a conversation with her. Dex focused on the road and looking for a supermarket. He stopped at the one he remembered a few blocks from his parents’ home and ran inside. Fifteen minutes later, anticipation buzzed through him as he turned down the street where he’d—against all odds—learned to ride a bike.

  Yes, he was scraped up from stem to stern by the time he made that first successful solo ride, but his father kept picking him up and brushing him off until he made that run.

  Try again, son—Lowells don’t quit, Bren. His father’s words after the first nine tries when Brennan didn’t succeed, when he wanted to go inside the house to play a computer game.

  No, they don’t, Dad. A sense homecoming so intense it took his breath away hit him square in his chest. It overwhelmed him as he parked the rental car in the last spot at the left side of the circular drive in front of the expansive home. His parking spot.

  Grace opened the back door and helped Callie out, but he sat there for a minute, feeling her eyes on him through the window, until knuckles rapped loudly on the glass and his head spun. Shock dropped his jaw, and the emotion he’d been battling shot up to escape in a relieved groan when he saw Grant standing there, unsmiling, looking haggard and tired, but healthy—and most importantly, alive.

  “Get your ass out, Poindexter—” he growled, yanking the car door open. “We’re having a Lowell reunion and you’re six fucking years late.” His second oldest brother’s underhanded way of giving him the same lecture Patton had given him in Vegas.

  He reached inside to grab Dex’s arm and pulled him out then slammed the door. He hooked his arm through Dex’s, and Grace and Callie preceded them up on the porch, but Grant stopped him at the bottom step to pull him into a bear hug. Dex hugged him back, flaring his nostrils, clenching his jaw to keep the tears in his eyes.

  “I’ve missed you, nerd boy,” Grant said, in an emotion choked tone. “Pattie said you were in town, but I didn’t believe him, because I knew my baby brother wouldn’t be in Bean Town and not come to see his family.” Another sucker punch wrapped in sarcasm that made a bulls-eye with Dex’s guilt.

  Grant finally released him from the hug, but promptly planted a fist in his ribs, and not a gentle teasing one. His breath came out in a whoosh and he bent to grab his side, as Grant stood there laughing. With a growl, Dex charged him, his head hitting Grant in the middle, taking him off his feet and they flew through the air.

  Dex landed on top of him and Grant grunted, but quickly reversed their positions. Dex surprised him with one of Susan’s escape moves to roll him onto his stomach. Before Grant could get up, Dex was on his back and held him in a blood choke, bent his wrist just so, and twisted his arm up between his shoulder blades. Grant struggled, but Dex held him tight.

  “Uncle, asshole!” he croaked.

  As soon as Dex eased the tension on his throat, he jumped out of Grant’s reach with a laugh, because he knew that victory wouldn’t last long. Grant rolled to his back, then sprang to his feet to rub his throat.

  “Where in the fuck did you learn that move?” he demanded, giving Dex a once-over to his toes, then shaking his head. “And where in the hell did you buy those muscles?”

  “They give away a set of muscles now with every laptop purchase at Nerds-R-Us,” Dex replied with a grin. “I’ve bought several laptops since I’ve seen you last. And I have a kickass female boss who is determined to teach me how to use them.”

  “’Bout damned time someone did,” Grant replied with a grunt, as he brushed past him to jog up the steps. “I’m damned tired of having to kick people’s ass for you.”

  Grant stopped beside Callie who was standing there staring up at him wide eyed. He knelt and gave her a smile as he tipped up her chin. “What’s your name pretty girl?” he asked.

  “Don’t be making time with my girls,” Dex growled, the words tasting entirely too sweet on his tongue as he quickly walked up the steps.

  Callie, she mouthed while signing it, then asked his name and Grace interpreted.

  “Grant,” he replied, his smile widening.

  “What kind of ice cream do you like, Grant?” she asked.

  Grant looked up at Dex, then back at her. “I like mint chocolate chip like my daddy.”

  “I like strawberry, and my mommy likes butter pecan. We’re going to have an ice cream social for my mommy because she died. Will you come?” she asked, her eyes shining.

  A muscle ticked in Grant’s jaw, and he cleared his throat. “As long as your beautiful aunt will sit next to me too, I’d love to.” With a growl, he scooped her up and stood, then dropped an arm over Grace’s shoulders. Grace laughed, Callie giggled and Dex frowned.

  “Oh hell no!” Dex shouted, grabbing for the back of Grant’s t-shirt, but he was too fast hustling the women inside. With a sigh, he turned to go get the melting ice cream from the car.

  When he walked inside Dex heard voices from the back of the house, but he shut the door and leaned against it, just inhaling the familiar smells for a second. His father’s library was the strongest scent since it was the first room to the right. His occasional cigar, which he hid from their mother, mixed with aged pages in the many books that lined the walls. Next, he caught a faint whiff of the fresh cut roses from his mother’s garden, which she changed out weekly in the antique vases in her sitting room to the left. On the uppermost scent layer, he detected the powdery perfume his mother wore and warmth flowed through him.

  God, it was good to be home.

  “You gonna stand there all night, or are you coming into the kitchen so we can have ice cream?” his father asked gruffly, and Dex met his eyes where he stood in the doorway at the end of the entry hall. “When we’re finished, we need to have a talk.”

  “Yes, sir,” Dex said, pushing off the door. Hopefully ice cream would soothe the savage beast before they had that discussion, because Dex knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

  His father turned and he followed him past the stairwell, through the massive living room, past the dining room to the back, where he made a left and walked thirty feet or so to enter the sunny kitchen. Dex went to the counter by the sink to set the bags down by his mother who was laying out bowls and spoons. When he put his hand on her back, she tensed but did not turn around. Guilt tweaked his heart hard and he rubbed her stiff back.

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” he said and a faint tremor rocked her.

  Dex leaned in carefully to kiss her cheek, took a deep inhale of her perfume, and it soothed him. He didn’t linger, though, he quickly stood back in case she decided to put the big wooden spoon she gripped tightly in her hand to use.

  He knew she’d do it too, because she had before. Even though his mother was a Boston socialite of sorts, being from an old money Brahmin family, the Buchanans were Scotch-Irish and she had a temper. It was obvious she was very angry with him from the way her body trembled.

  “I got you some black cherry and chocolate sauce,” he said, hoping to at least grease the way to getting her to talk to him. When she didn’t say a word after a second, his shoulders slumped as he turned away.

  “You’re damned right you’re sorry,” she said, her voice choked. “Mr. Dexter Buchanan.”

  Ugh, evidently Patton had spoken to them and told them about his name change. He might very well have to explain himself to his fat
her about Sheridan before he left. It was the only way he could explain that.

  Dex spun to find his mother leaning on the counter, and her face was almost as red as the rims of her eyes. “You have a lot of explaining to do, and apologies to make. I’m thankful your brothers didn’t kill you like they wanted to do.” At that moment, he realized why he loved Lou Ellen so much. She was crustier, but a lot like his take-no-prisoners mother.

  Guilt ripped away another notch in his insides.

  “Me, too, because if they had, I wouldn’t be here having ice cream with you. And I wouldn’t have the chance to explain and apologize,” Dex replied and smiled, but her lips pinched.

  “If not for your bodyguard, you wouldn’t be here anyway,” Patton growled, and Dex spun to find him walking into the kitchen, his hair wet as if he’d just taken a shower.

  “What are you doing here? I thought you had to go back to base?” Dex asked.

  “I’m here for the memorial, maybe two, if Mom doesn’t accept your explanation and apology. If you hadn’t shown up today, I was going to help Grant find you and we would’ve killed you,” he said, brushing past Dex to grab the grocery bags and search through them.

  Yes, I got cookie dough, asshole.

  “Well, we aren’t going to the memorial, just so you know,” he informed, turning toward the table. “Grace and Callie have been through enough. This is our memorial, so eat up.”

  “His bodyguard?” Grace asked, her eyes sliding between Dex and Patton as they walked to the table.

  “You, Lieutenant Commander Beautiful-but-Deadly,” Patton replied, taking the chair across from her. “If you hadn’t blown that freak’s balls off and bludgeoned the other guy with a chain you shouldn’t have even been able to lift, the prodigal son probably wouldn’t be here.”

  The room went deadly silent except for the spoons clinking against porcelain from across the room where his mother was filling bowls. Dex chewed the words he wanted so badly to spout. He had nothing to prove, however, and everything to lose if he started an argument.

  Let Patton think what he would about him. In the precarious position he was in with his family, it was better to keep the peace right now. But Patton evidently didn’t share the same opinion.

  “How did you get hooked up with such a loser anyway? You could do much better,” he said and gave Grace a wink.

  Grace cleared her throat and glanced at Callie, who was paying rapt attention to their faces. She signed to her, and the little girl smiled as she got up from the table to walk across the kitchen to help his mother.

  “I think you have some things confused, Patton,” she said, with a sideways glance at Dex. “Going to Vegas to try to save my sister alone was stupid. If not for your brother, I’d be either locked in a dungeon somewhere or more likely dead.” Her hand slid across the table to cover his, and her warmth flowed into his body when she squeezed it. “The reason Dex—ah, Brennan was in the hospital and then jail was because he rescued me from the freak. The reason that man is now dead had nothing to do with me.”

  Patton grunted and rolled his eyes. “You had the gun, sweet cheeks. I know, because I gave it to you.”

  “I fell apart and dropped it to run to my sister when I saw her in that room. Your brother fought and shot him and his two men all by himself. I was no help until he had a gun pointed at his forehead and the only weapon I had was that chain. You’d be surprised what you can do when you’re running on fear and adrenaline.” Grace slid out of her chair to stand and put her arms around his shoulders, and her vanilla scent teased him when she leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for saving me, Brennan,” she said and his heart became a pool of chocolate sauce in his chest. He turned his face, brushed his mouth over hers and kissed her properly, right in front of everyone.

  When Callie set a bowl of chocolate ice cream in front of him, Dex turned to find his father and both of his brothers’ eyes burning holes in him. His mother had taken a seat beside his dad, and her eyes were wide too.

  Was that respect and pride he saw on their faces instead of disbelief?

  His father cleared his throat. “It sounds like you found more than a job in Dallas, Son” he said cryptically. “What kind of company is this you work for?”

  His father’s question broke the ice, and Dex relaxed as he filled them in about Deep Six over not one, but two, bowls of ice cream. When the bowls were empty and their bellies full, another voice joined the crowd.

  Someone cleared their throat loudly near the kitchen doorway and Dex looked there to see his younger brother, Bradley, as in the Bradley tank, for which he was named being born at almost twelve pounds. Brad dropped his duffle to the floor with a loud thunk, then put his beefy fists on his hips. “I drove seven freaking hours to get here and you’re eating ice cream without me?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Wow,” Grace said, with a laugh, feeling like a teenager as she snuck into bed with Dex around midnight. The lamp on the nightstand cast a soft yellow glow on his face and he appeared to be lost in thought, but peaceful. Callie was sound asleep in the room next door which was supposed to be theirs.

  “What?” he asked with a smile.

  “Your family is a little overwhelming…but amazing.” She sighed, wishing she’d have been able to grow up in a similar circle of love.

  The Lowells were a real family, and Dex was very fortunate to have them. It was obvious they cared about each other and him deeply. That they included her and Callie in that circle tonight, as if they were part of their family, to celebrate her sister’s life, made her wish for so much more. But Grace was happy to have this memory, and she knew that Callie was feeling better now too. Brennan, her surrogate uncles and grandfather made sure of it. Once his mother accepted Brennan’s seventh apology, she got in on the spoiling action too.

  “I’m very surprised they all showed up here at once. That hasn’t happened in…nine years,” he replied, turning to look at her. The silky bed sheet caressed her bare skin as she scooted across the bed and he lifted his arm for her to cuddle into his shoulder.

  “Is Callie okay?” he asked, turning his face to look at her.

  “She’s fine and was asleep before her head hit that down-filled pillow next door. The question is—are you okay?” she asked, turning into his body to lay her hand over his heart. “How did the conversation with your dad and brothers go?”

  If they needed brandy to get through it, which every man had in hand when they exited the library, it must’ve been tough. Brennan’s flushed face when he walked out worried her, but the air wasn’t tense between them, and his dad insisted they spend the night.

  “It was fine,” he replied with a deep sigh. “I’m a dumbass was the general consensus, but that beats being a quitter and coward, which is where we started the conversation.”

  “Why would they think that?” Grace asked with a gasp, as she leaned up on her elbow to see his face.

  “Because I quit the job my father helped me get when it became clear I wouldn’t make the cut with the military. When I quit, he thought I ran to Texas to avoid facing him. It was a little of that, but a lot more and he understood when I finished explaining. It was a huge load off, being able to do that.”

  “What happened to make you change your name and go into hiding there?”

  “I wasn’t hiding, hiding—I was hiding in plain sight. General Sheridan threatened me when I quit and vaguely threatened my family. I knew he’d have followed through on those threats, and then some, if he happened to realize I was the one who anonymously blew the whistle to Congress and the Department of Justice on his dirty dealings.”

  “What kind of dirty dealings?” Grace asked with a gasp, her stomach churning.

  “He wanted me to forge a report that would’ve surely resulted in a war and I refused. He finally coerced me into doing it, but I gathered every scrap of evidence I could find on that situation and much more, then I got the hell out of there,” Dex replied with a sigh.

 
“Why didn’t you tell your family? At least explain what you were doing then?”

  Dex turned more toward her, rested his hand on her hip and met her eyes. That was a very good sign he was going to tell her everything, and Grace was relieved.

  “If I told my dad then, he’d have been in danger, and I couldn’t anyway, because the information was classified until after the hearings. If I’d have said anything, told anyone, or popped my head up, they may have indicted me too, or at the very least compelled me to testify, because I did sign that false report.”

  “Okay, so why did you change your name,” she asked, putting her hand to his face to stroke his beard shadow. He’d shaved this morning and she missed that thicker scruff.

  “I knew Sheridan would be looking for me if he figured out I was the mole, so I changed my name, excluded that two years from my resume, and Dave Logan hired me.”

  “I want to kill that bastard all over again,” she growled, her hand curling into a fist on his chest.

  As a physician that statement went against every principle she had, every ethic, but it was exactly how she felt. She did not have one moment of regret over ending Thom Sheridan’s life for what he did to her sister, and now that she knew, what he’d done to Brennan.

  “I hope your father realizes you did the right thing now,” Grace said, because Mr. Lowell needed to know, he also needed to let Brennan know he was proud of him. Something that her mother had never done for her or her sister.

  “Oh, he does—he just didn’t particularly like how I did it. He reamed me out for forty minutes about not calling him for help. Once I laid it all out, the classification of the information, the jeopardy I was in and the family might be in, he understood.”

  “Is the information classified now?” she asked.

  “I have no idea, because I had no way of keeping track of it after I left. I wanted to stay in safe mode and let the Department of Justice do the rest of the work. Laying low was in my best interest, and that’s what I’ve done for six years.”

  “So you changed your name and moved to Texas…does Logan know about all this?” she asked, and his face told her no.