The House At Sunset: SEALed At Sunset - The Beach Renovation (Sunset SEALs Book 5)

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The House At Sunset: SEALed At Sunset - The Beach Renovation (Sunset SEALs Book 5) Page 11

by Sharon Hamilton


  “Yeah, well, when you’re trained to operate, you operate,” said Andy, laughing to himself. He’d have to give Conley kudos for his good behavior. “And no baboons located or brought into surgery.”

  “They have to get the pens built first,” added Sven. “But you don’t want to hear all that screaming all night long. The pack will follow a captured member for miles and make everyone miserable they make such a ruckus.”

  “I’m gonna take a shower and get this shit off my face. Can I get some shut-eye?” Archie asked.

  Peterson nodded and gave the all clear to the group, who scattered. He stepped up to Andy. “You want to go into town today?”

  It wasn’t the first thing Andy was looking forward to. But the unspoken benefits of that mission was a chance to call Aimee. And he needed to do that.

  “Can I get a couple of hours in?”

  “Sure. Take three or four. Get some grub and then we’ll take off. Today we’ll travel by truck.

  “I’d like that, sir.”

  Andy was headed to his cot when Peterson called him out. “Hey, Andy. You did good today. I made sure to tell Kyle you were a very welcome addition here. I think with you on the Team, we’re about to change our luck, and I told him so.”

  “Thank you, sir. But Kyle’s not the one I have to impress. I’d appreciate a good word with the Lt. Commander, sir.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  As Andy tried to leave, Peterson interrupted him again. He hated like hell when someone didn’t know when the conversation was over. He was tired, wet and a little sore. He’d have been happier with a firefight. Sven had been right about that.

  “Sir?”

  “Do you still think we need Tucker and some of the other guys?”

  “Couldn’t hurt. I think you’re going to have to split the team up into groups to find where they’re holding them. It’s a huge area we have to search. If it will speed up the mission, I’m all for it. I mean, I think it would be smart to do that.”

  “I’m glad you said that, because they’re on their way. They’ll be here in two days.”

  “Tucker must be a new papa again. That’s great.” Andy was elated, but knew Tucker was sacrificing much to tag along.

  But it was good news. Things were about to get interesting, which either meant they’d pull off a huge rescue mission, or things would go all to hell. But it would be nice to do it with some of his buds.

  Chapter 13

  Aimee went to the Pinellas County Sheriff’s Department and filed an incident report, like Dr. Denby had suggested. One of the deputies knew Andy and several of the other guys on other teams she didn’t know. She felt it brought a little extra diligence on their part. They explained that with the report on file, any responding officers hopefully would access it, and thus have better detail on her brother. That meant there was a greater chance less force would be used in any apprehension. She thanked them, got cards and cell phone numbers, and was promised house patrols on a regular basis, particularly at night.

  She called Shelley on her way over to the clinic in Largo where she was going to attend a NAMI meeting, which Dr. Denby had also suggested, texting her the location and the fact that there was a day meeting she might be able to make.

  “You were right, Shelley. And I just wanted you to know Dr. Denby was able to put it in terms I could understand. I’m sorry if I was a bit testy with you.”

  “My bedside manner sucks sometimes. And maybe I just don’t have the big heart like you do, but I was worried about it. Still am, Aimee. But you’re on the right track.”

  “Thanks. So, no cop-calling, okay? I’m going to be in that meeting, so don’t panic.”

  Shelley laughed. “I’m going over to the school to start getting the classroom set up for after break. You want to catch dinner somewhere, or do you need some space?”

  “No, actually I was thinking the same thing. I’ll text you when I’m done. Let’s make it an early dinner, okay?”

  “You got it. Can I ask you if Andy has called?”

  Aimee sighed into the phone, feeling that tiny stab of pain and worry again. “Not yet. It’s still early. I’m not worried,” she lied.

  “Okay, I promise not to ask again. See you later.”

  She had an hour before the meeting began, so she visited the Rose Hill Shelter. It was a training school for vet techs, and she’d driven by it hundreds of times, and never thought about adoption before.

  The reception area was sterile, and of course there was the unmistakable smell of animals, even though it was clean, and the floor buffed to a shiny patina. The walls were papered with posters of missing pets or stories of how abandoned dogs and cats had been adopted, some of them with major injuries, and went on to have a happy, normal life afterwards. Aimee drew strength and hope from the many stories advertised there.

  A young, uniformed technician asked her to come forward when her name was called.

  “I’d like to inquire about seeing some of your dogs who need good homes. I’ve never done this before. What’s the process?”

  “Do you have a preference for size of dog?”

  “I would think a larger one. I don’t want a puppy. They’re cute, but I think too much work for me.”

  “Have you had a dog before?”

  “When I was growing up. Our family had a lab mix of some kind. Her name was Cookie. My parents had her for about ten years.”

  The tech went on to explain the process and told her that many of the dogs who were deemed receptive had gone through simple obedience training and were house broken. Many of the dogs had been left behind by elderly people undergoing life changes, so it wasn’t uncommon to find a dog already very well behaved and desiring human companionship.

  The hardest part of the meeting was seeing the variety of dog population in cages. Aimee wanted to take them all. One by one, she put her fingers up to the cage and spoke with several. The technician let her interact with three who she felt a connection with, so she had a short playtime in one of the rooms.

  There was a beautiful golden retriever mix named Sandy who looked like she had the youth and energy to be able to take on runs. Her bark was loud, but she was also very playful. The dog had been spayed already and hadn’t been in the shelter long. She went over the dog’s records with the tech, and Aimee was hopeful Andy would be okay with her decision.

  Sandy sat in front of her as she explained her situation to the young girl. “I need to check with my husband first, and I should get a call in the next few days. I want to be sure he’s okay with having a dog, since this isn’t anything we’ve talked about. Can I reserve her for a few days? Get back to you?”

  Sandy put a paw on her lap as if she understood. She was begging to be taken home.

  “I can call you if someone else comes in and wants to adopt her. We do charge a fee, so if you pay the deposit, I can give you first right. But if we don’t hear back from you within a few hours, then we’ll release the dog to someone else. I think she’s very adoptable and won’t be here long, so don’t take too much time.”

  As Aimee said good-bye, Sandy’s mournful expression broke her heart. She knew the look the dog gave her as she was being led back to her cage was something she’d never forget. She was already connected and ready to take the plunge.

  The clinic in Largo was an outpatient drop in space servicing runaways and teens. She smelled fresh coffee brewing and knew that usually meant a meeting was about to begin, so followed her nose to a large classroom with chairs around several long tables. About a dozen people had already arrived, some in pairs and some singles.

  Aimee was greeted and given a name badge, after being introduced to several of the regular attendees. By the time the meeting coordinator arrived, nearly all the seats had been filled.

  She was introduced again as a newcomer, on behalf of her brother. Aimee was grateful she didn’t have to go into details of her relationship with Logan with a room full of strangers. She listened to stories from parents, s
iblings and even spouses of people affected by various forms of mental illness. Some were kids living on the street that parents hadn’t seen for many years. Others were trying to cope with a family member living in their house, disrupting other family or worse, stealing and abusing others. One couple had a daughter diagnosed with a severe mental illness they had dealt with for several years, only to find out that their other child, a son, also had the same disease diagnosed recently.

  Aimee heard the stories of mothers who loved their sons and daughters, but who were afraid of their own children. They had stories of sending them to expensive rehab clinics. People had lost homes trying to pay for their kids’ addiction issues over and over again until the family was near homeless themselves.

  She heard one tale of a mother who hadn’t seen her son for ten years but looked for him everywhere. She’d volunteered at homeless shelters, just to be able to have some sight of him, but never had and was still waiting.

  It was an eye-opening experience for her. The room was filled with hope, with realism, but she found a family of people there who were going through exactly what she was with Logan.

  The coordinator asked her, finally, if she wanted to share about her experiences.

  “My brother, Logan, has been homeless for over twelve years now, maybe longer, I don’t know. We grew up in California, so when I moved here, I was surprised to see him working in a restaurant one night. But I could never get in touch with him. He was fired the night I saw him, and when I looked into where he was staying, he’d left his program and was back out on the street.”

  She showed them the gift he had left her. A couple of ladies were crying as she told her story. Then she talked about how conflicted she was about what to do with his reaching out and got more personal stories, all mixed, of how that had worked out for others in the room.

  “Main thing is to make sure you don’t put yourself in harm’s way, Aimee,” the coordinator said. “I think from what you’ve heard today, you can expect that it will be a long bumpy road. Even when they clean up, they are still very flawed. You have to understand it’s a long process and sometimes without a perfect ending.”

  Aimee was grateful for the honesty. She walked away knowing that there wasn’t one size fits all solutions to these problems and that if she was going to bring Logan into their lives together, it was a long row to hoe. It was important to her that she let Andy know what she’d discovered so it could be a joint description.

  But the funny thing was that, of all the stories that were told, all the questions anyone had in the group, everyone was completely aligned that Aimee should adopt Sandy and not wait for Andy’s permission.

  She took a class schedule and learned about a series of lectures given by various health professionals, helping to bring mental illness the attention it deserved, and vowed she’d attend as many of them as she could.

  On the way home, she nearly went by the shelter and picked Sandy up, but held to her conviction that she ask Andy first.

  All during dinner she thought about the golden dog who had so stolen her heart. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that adopting Sandy was the right thing to do. Shelley was happy to hear about the group and the classes.

  “But I’m going to insist that you not stay home alone until you get that dog, Aimee. You’re welcome to stay with me.”

  “I’m fine, Shelley, really.”

  “There you go again. Then invite me over. Honestly, Aimee, I won’t sleep a wink if you don’t.”

  “Okay. I’m in the mood for some romantic movies anyway. We’ll get out the Kleenex and have a good cry tonight.”

  “Oh dear. That bad?”

  “Well, you’re inviting yourself. Are you sure you want to come?”

  “Maybe we should work on a puzzle.”

  “Nope, it’s going to be the Romance Channel. I want to learn about broken hearts that are mended, things that turn out in the end just the way we want them to. I’ve had enough reality for one day. And then I’m going to cry myself to sleep and dream of my husband.”

  Shelley shook her head in mock disgust. Finally, she added, with a wry smile, “Okay, but if you touch me, I’ll slap you so hard, you’ll see stars.”

  Chapter 14

  The road to Benot twisted through some beautiful scenery, showing sparkling lakes and little villages tucked into the foliage along the edges. Life was simple there. The colorful patterns of dresses and headdress the ladies wore were fascinating to Andy. They passed by women working in the fields, or drying animal skins and boiling fabric in huge oil drum kettles. Everywhere there was a healthy population of chickens and toddlers.

  Peterson had told them their cover was that they were helping to set up a clinic in the town, given a charter through a church charity in the states. Sven thought that approach was a sound one. They were out scouting for locations to set up shop.

  “Everything in the big city needs permission. That way we find out who is running it. Who is afraid of whom, who the good guys are and who are not so good.”

  Sven had taken the seat next to Andy.

  “So you heard Tucker’s coming.”

  “Yup, so is Armando, Fredo, and Kelly is on her way too, plus a couple others. I’m hoping there will be some guys from Colin Riley’s new concern. I’m anxious to talk to them, see how they’re doing.”

  “So you and Kelly might patch things up?” Andy asked.

  “We’ll see. I haven’t spoken to her. I’m keeping a low profile. But I’m glad she’s coming. She has the best kind of connections.”

  “So, is she still independent.”

  “She got her credentials back. Can’t explain how she got them in such quick order because normally they take weeks. Somebody high up must have pulled some strings.”

  “Maybe Riley had something to do with it.”

  Sven wrinkled his nose. “State is sometimes difficult. They aren’t elected officials who could use a campaign donation. So I don’t think Riley has the pull there. But this mission got on someone’s radar, so I’m grateful.”

  “Those diplomatic connections might come in handy.”

  “I hope we don’t need them, but yes.” Sven watched a group of young girls walking home from school, all in a dark blue and white uniform. Two nuns sat nearby drinking a can of soda nearby, under the shade of an umbrella.

  “You don’t see many of those here, do you?” Andy asked Sven.

  “Not hardly. Used to be heavily catholic, but not so much. Everything takes a back seat to politics these days. They’ve lost so many clergy in the past few years. And the UN cannot make up the shortfall, but they’re trying.”

  “So, will we be welcomed here?”

  “Hard to say. First, we’ll try it without Kelly. If we strike out, we’ll come back with her and let her work her magic.” Sven winked, and gave a belly laugh. Andy knew he was looking forward to the reunion and the magic she might bring to his life too.

  Peterson turned in the front seat, addressing them. “Andy, I promised you a call home. What about you, Sven?”

  “Thanks, sir. I’m good.”

  His LPO handed Andy the phone. “Wait until we come to a stop. I’ll give you about five minutes privacy, and then you join us, got it?”

  “Thanks, man.”

  The quaintness of the countryside was soon diluted with evidence of a city coming up. The road widened, and was also littered with abandoned cars, a dead chicken that had been run over, and scooters buzzing in and around traffic everywhere, making the driving especially challenging. Andy’s neck was beginning to hurt from the jerking movements of their truck. He’d gotten some bites on his legs that itched badly and were swollen. He was going to look for some Benadryl as soon as he could safely get his kit out.

  Several taller buildings clustered around a central location of the town, with a fountain at the intersection of two main roads. Children played in the pool, splashing cars and tossing water through opened truck windows and pedest
rian traffic passing by. The red clay from the dusty non-paved thoroughfare had scattered silt everywhere. Andy was beginning to taste it.

  The driver pulled into a parking lot outside a commercial bank building several stories tall. Peterson directed the other two trucks to pull up alongside them while everyone got out, adjusted their packs and stretched their legs. The driver had promised to watch their stuff, but no one was buying it.

  Andy dialed Aimee’s number. If it was Noon in Africa, it would be around five in the morning Florida time. But she picked her phone up after two rings.

  “God it’s good to hear your voice, sweetheart,” Andy started.

  “Me too, Andy. I kept telling myself to be patient. It wasn’t working. So glad you called.”

  “Listen, I’ve only been given five minutes so let’s make it count. I’m good, it’s hot, the food is passable, mostly what we pack in here, so far there is no end in sight, but I’m safe. Settling in. Anything eventful going on there?”

  “Oh, God, where do I start?”

  “Uh Oh. Hope that doesn’t mean Cory’s making a nuisance of himself.”

  “No. Haven’t seen him, but I think Logan has been reaching out to me. Made me a bracelet and left it on the doorstep. I gave him some of your old clothes.”

  “Is that necessary? I mean, not that I’m in love with the clothes, but do you think that’s wise?”

  “I’ve been told that. And you’ll be happy to know Shelley and Dr. Denby got me to file a police report.”

  “You’re welcome, Andy,” Shelley’s voice shouted from the other side of the room.

  “Shelley’s staying over? That’s smart. Tell her thanks.”

  “I’m learning about mental illness. Dr. Denby suggested a group, and I attended the first meeting today.”

  “This isn’t one of those twelve step programs now, is it?”

  “No, it’s a support group.”

 

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