by Jo Leigh
“How you doing, Earp?”
Wyatt froze. He knew the voice. The name from his past. “I haven’t been called that in a long time, Commander.”
“Yeah, but that’s who you are. How’s civilian life? Did you ever buy that bar you wanted?”
“Yes, sir. And no, it’s not called Wyatt Earp’s.”
Freeman barked a laugh. “You been keeping yourself in fighting shape?”
“I do okay.”
“I figured. Hey, I’m going to be in your neck of the woods tomorrow. Thought I’d drop by.”
That stopped Wyatt cold. “You’re coming here? Do you know where I’m living?”
“Rhode Island. On the coast, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, sir.” Wyatt rubbed his jaw. What the hell was going on? “I’ll be at the bar most of the day, but I’m tied up in the evening. Need directions?”
“Nope. I’ll find you.”
“See you then, sir.”
When he disconnected, Cricket was looking at him with eyes full of questions. He had too many of his own to know where to start. “That was my old platoon commander, Jefferson Freeman. He’s coming here tomorrow.”
“To see you?”
“He said he’s going to be in the neighborhood, but that’s just weird.”
“Was he a friend of yours?”
“Nice guy, but I wouldn’t call him a personal friend. And now he’s all of a sudden dropping by?” He wondered if hearing from the admiral twice in one week had anything to do with tomorrow’s visit. “He mentioned the bar, but I didn’t come up with the idea until after I was four months out of the service.”
“Does he know the admiral?”
“Yeah, I’m thinking he might be tied into this somehow. I just don’t know what’s up. If something was wrong with him, I’d have heard about it from my mother.”
“Could he be coming to pull you back in?”
“I can’t imagine that. I was damn clear when I left. I mean, to him directly.” He stripped off his shirt, then, after toeing off his shoes, his shorts, said, “Come on. Take a shower with me. I’m worried about what’s bothering you.”
Sighing, Cricket leaned against the counter, as if standing was too much. “It’s nothing to worry about, I promise. But I’ll tell you later.”
“You know I’m on tonight. I assume you’re going to your folks’ for dinner, but right after that, okay?”
She nodded.
He had to let it go, even though he didn’t like it. On the way to the bathroom, he caught his reflection in the full-length mirror hanging on the door, and patted his belly. “Damn. I have kind of let myself go. Freeman’s going to make a crack about it first thing.” Sucking it in didn’t help much.
“You’re insane.” Behind him, Cricket shook her head in utter disbelief. “Let yourself go,” she mumbled, and then laughed. Really laughed. So that was something. “And they say women are vain.”
He clenched his ass as he walked into the bathroom.
* * *
THE RHODY DINER hadn’t changed much since the last time Cricket had eaten there. About fourteen years ago. But they were still really laid-back, and didn’t care that all she’d ordered was a chocolate shake while she worked on her Surface Pro.
She knew she couldn’t stay too much longer, or Wyatt would call, and she didn’t want to lie to him directly. He deserved better than that, especially when he was only trying to help.
She got a quick message from one of her Yale classmates who worked at a Providence law office. Natalie said she didn’t know of a contracts lawyer from or right near Temptation Bay, but she knew some from Newport, and she’d reach out.
After a quick thanks, Cricket’s thoughts went straight back to her mother, and their earlier conversation. Ronny’s call hadn’t helped things. He’d begged her to come home and talk. Obviously her mom had opened her big mouth. Again. Despite knowing how much the blowup must’ve unsettled him, Cricket said she needed a little time.
She couldn’t help wondering if Grant knew from day one that she’d been given her job right out of Yale. He hadn’t been as high up in the hierarchy as he was now, and certainly didn’t have dealings with the senior partners.
It didn’t matter in the end. He probably knew now, and Grant Herbert wasn’t shy about using any form of leverage he could get his hands on.
She sipped on her shake, and made that horrible noise that told her it was all gone. It felt like a personal betrayal. Maybe she’d order another one, to go. Or maybe she’d just admit to herself that she was dreading telling Wyatt.
Of course, she could just tell him it had to do with Penny’s meeting. The thought lifted her spirits. Until she realized that alone revealed all the things Wyatt admired about her weren’t true. He thought she was bright, independent, confident, principled.
Maybe she was once, but that person hadn’t shown up recently.
“You want a top up?” the waitress asked. “It’s on the house. Just take me a second.”
“No. Thank you, though. I was just wrapping up my work. I’ll take the check now, if I may?”
The distraction, plus hugely loud music, was enough to get Cricket out of the diner, and all the way back to the bar. It didn’t matter that she’d come early. He’d be glad to see her.
The dope.
Looking into the visor mirror of Wyatt’s truck, she said, “Knock it off. Stop the pity party. You know the situation, now work on what you’re going to do about it. Starting with telling Wyatt the truth.”
The speech bolstered her all the way to the bar door, where she made one small amendment: nothing that would make things worse.
She barely made it two feet inside and she heard, “Hey, Cricket.”
It was Igor. Jim and Ted were sitting at the table with him, and so were two other minions. Victoria must’ve barred the door and windows. “We all heard what you’re doing for the fish folks. That’s very, very cool.”
“I’m not, though. I’m not representing them or anything like that.” Oh, hell. She wanted to turn around and walk right back outside.
Ted held up his dark ale in a toast. “My mom said you’re doing plenty. That’s epic, dude.”
They all clinked their beers, and in the middle of that, an older man who worked the fish market, joined in with, “You’re a smart girl, Cricket. And we all appreciate it.”
All she could do was smile, especially when she realized how many locals were in the bar, half of them nodding at her. Her best escape was heading for the empty stool at the end of the bar. Wyatt would steal bits of time with her. It made sense to tell him now, instead of after closing. They wouldn’t be able to get too deep, and she wasn’t likely to fall apart in front of a crowd.
He came by two minutes later, again offering her a choice of Scotch and beer. Although it wouldn’t go well with the shake in her stomach, she chose the Lagavulin.
“Did you have a nice dinner?”
“Yeah,” she said, right before she downed the shot.
“Okay,” he said, drawing out the word. “That seems unambiguous. Want to talk about it?”
Nearly sighing in relief, she nodded. “Can you?”
“It’s not all that busy. Mostly locals, who can sit on it and spin if I take a little longer than usual. And Viv or Tiffy can pour.” He checked behind him, then leaned on his elbows so he was reasonably close to her.
Cricket gave him the CliffsNotes version of what had happened, in between him filling two pitchers and making a drink Viv had never heard of. Finally, when she got out all the salient facts, he bent closer one more time, in a way that told her he wasn’t going to be darting away anytime soon.
“Admittedly, I’m clueless about your world, about lawyers in general, and in particular your firm, but I imagine you were pretty lucky to get that leg up.”
Cricket stared at him, utterly speechless. That was his takeaway? “My mother went behind my back to have Declan ask one of the senior partners for a favor. Clearly Victoria had no faith in my abilities to get in with a good firm. Not to mention she made me into a charity case.”
“Yeah, that’s true. I mean, you went to Yale. You probably wouldn’t have had any trouble at all.”
“No. That’s not... Lots of people who go to Yale and Harvard can’t get into good firms. Or even medium firms.”
The way he looked down at his hands woke her up to what he was trying to do. He wasn’t wrong, exactly. She wouldn’t have necessarily snapped up a great job on her own. But that wasn’t the point.
“Okay, you know more about it than I do. But as for them taking you on as a favor, I suppose that’s technically true, but do you think that meant they had to keep you on indefinitely? I mean, if you were a lousy lawyer, I doubt they would’ve handed you any important clients. Yet they did, right?”
She nodded, unable to figure out why instead of making her feel better it did the opposite.
“It would have been wiser for your mom to tell you before she made the move, but hell, I know you. I know your character, and favor or not, you’re smart, sensible and admirable. No one could miss that about you.”
Behind him, Viv tapped him on the shoulder. “You think you could step in for a little while? There’s a birthday party...”
“Sure,” he said, “Be right with you.”
Viv went back to work while Wyatt looked torn. “You all right for a few minutes?”
“Yes, of course. Go.”
Alone again, the penny dropped, heavy as an anvil. The truth about herself was far darker than she’d realized, and so much worse that she’d rather die than admit it to him.
What a hotshot she’d thought she was, acing a firm like that right out of school. She’d even pitied some of her old classmates who had struggled to find jobs that could cover their student loans. Not Jessica Shaw. She was too bright, a shining star. Hadn’t everyone always told her that?
The true horror was that she believed that. It was so much a part of her that she hadn’t ever given it a second thought.
Beneath the praise there lived nothing more than an excuse. It gave her the illusion that it was fine to make fun of the prep school privileged, when the reality was, she had a lot in common with them.
Wyatt thought she wasn’t like them, and she would have agreed with him to her dying day, but it was a lie. God, she’d taken so much for granted, and all with benevolent condescension up to and including her moral high ground.
And now, what was she doing? Letting Wyatt scramble to make her feel better. He had his own issues. That commander calling must have brought up a whole load of pain about Adam, about him being the only survivor on a mission he’d led. And all she was doing was thinking about herself. Nice. More proof that—“Stop,” she said aloud, not caring if anyone was watching. It was time to be a decent human being to Wyatt, who deserved so much more.
When he came back, wiping his hands on a bar towel, he smiled at her as if everything was coming up roses. He offered her more Scotch, but she got a glass of water instead.
Once he was elbows to the bar, she spoke before he had a chance. “You given any more thought as to why your ex-commander might be coming?”
“No clue. I even called Becky to ask her if she’d heard anything. She hadn’t, but she sure as hell gave me a dressing-down that would have put a BUD/S trainer to shame.”
She managed a laugh in response to his hangdog expression.
“Hey, at least the guy checked out. And I know you defended me.”
“I hope she also told you that I wouldn’t appreciate if you did that kind of thing to me. Although come to think of it, maybe you could work a little black magic with Gr—never mind.”
“I’d love to, believe me.”
She just shook her head.
“Anyway,” Wyatt went on, “Becky’s calmed down and she’s curious about this whole situation.”
“Did she mention she told me more about how Adam died—” She cut herself off at the hard expression on his face. “I’m sorry, I should have stopped her right away.”
Wyatt’s demeanor had changed in the blink of an eye. Before she could try to make amends, Tiffy called him over to help her, and this time he left without comment.
Cricket felt terrible for bringing it up. She should have waited.
“Hey.”
His voice, soft and not angry at all, made her look up.
“I promise,” she swore, “I won’t say another word about it. I hadn’t meant to talk behind your back.”
He shrugged. “I would have told you, you know. Maybe not next week or even next month, but eventually, I would have.”
At that, her stomach clenched. She wasn’t even sure how she felt about the implication that they were in this relationship, or whatever this thing was, for the long haul. Or what eventually meant to him.
“I was filled with guilt and that got mixed in with grief and anger and letting down my brothers. But I’m slowly coming to terms with it all. I know I did my job to the best of my ability. Adam’s death wasn’t the first casualty I’d dealt with...but it was the last one I could bear.”
She wanted to jump over the bar and hug him for all she was worth. They quieted, each of them in their own way saying volumes. He wanted to help her, she wanted to help him. Yet, they each had to get there on their own.
Tiffy came back again, but she wasn’t asking for help. “It’s pretty calm now that the surfers and the birthday party have split. I’ve got no problem closing up if you and Cricket want to take off. Think about it. I need to go blend three piña coladas.”
“How about we go upstairs and help each other forget our troubles?”
Cricket blinked, quietly cleared her throat. “Excellent plan.” She stood up, and slung her purse over her shoulder at the sad thought that maybe, more realistically, sex was all their relationship would ever amount to. It was certainly more than she deserved.
Chapter Twenty-Five
THE URGE TO salute Commander Freeman was all but overwhelming when the man he hadn’t seen in almost three years walked into the bar. Freeman circumvented Wyatt’s dilemma by holding out his hand.
The shake was as tough as the man himself. Not a contest. A statement. The commander hadn’t changed, except for a little gray creeping into his hair. He was stocky and short—five foot seven—but then a lot of military men were. Pilots, especially, but many SEALs were like Freeman. Made of muscles, grit and a determination to never give up.
“Can I offer you something to drink, Commander?”
“You got coffee?”
Although it was hot outside at ten, Wyatt had brewed a fresh pot, strong like the commander liked it. “Still black?”
“Yep.”
His curiosity was the only thing hotter than the coffee he brought to the table.
After his first sip, Freeman said, “You’re not looking too bad.”
Wyatt didn’t bother with more than a nod in reply. Small talk and his guest didn’t go together.
“Right.” Freeman set down his cup. He sat with his back straight, and even though he wasn’t in uniform, he might as well have been. He reminded Wyatt of the admiral. No wonder the two had had such a long friendship. “One of your fire team, Alan Schumate, is alive.” Freeman paused. Maybe he’d expected Wyatt’s shock and wanted to give him a moment, or had just seen it in his face.
“We’ve got fresh intel from a reliable source. One of ours in with the CIA sent us a picture. It’s blurry, but the computers all say it’s Chopper. He’s been held in the prison outside Sangin and it’s believed he’s about to be sent to Kandahar, where there’s every chance he’s going to be made an example.”
Wyatt still couldn’t breathe,
couldn’t think. Chopper, alive? It wasn’t possible. Wyatt had seen all his men go down, one by one. They’d all been gunned down seconds after entering the village. Their bodies left on the road for hours. “It can’t be him. It’s not possible.”
Freeman nodded with sympathy. “Like I said, our intel is very good.”
“Why now? Why hold on to him for so long?”
“I don’t have any answers for you, Earp. But I do know he’s not in good shape. Whatever the reason for keeping him alive, I think he’s running out of time. One thing’s for certain, he’s been through hell.”
Freeman didn’t have to elaborate. They both knew what that meant. Unimaginable torture.
“He’s likely been brainwashed, or hell, they might’ve been prying information out of him.”
“He wouldn’t give them anything. Never.”
“Bottom line, son, is we need to move quickly, or we lose him. I’ve got an express pass on a jet at the airport ready to take off at fifteen hundred hours. It’ll be a full twenty-four hours in DC to get through the briefings that’ll bring you up to speed, then it’ll take us twenty-hours to get to Kabul. The team will be waiting on you. They’ll take you through the drill. The plan is for a night extraction. The helo’s ready, the men are the best. But we need you to take ’em to the field where you were extracted.”
“Me? I haven’t been in country for almost three years.”
“You know the terrain, and you know what didn’t work last time. So do we. We aren’t going to make those mistakes again.”
“That’s crazy. I’ve been away too long. I’m in decent shape, but a hell of a lot could have changed since I was last there. They could be moving Chopper as a trap.”
“They could, but that’s not what the chatter says. The admiral thought you might want the chance to bring Chopper home. But I gotta know ASAP. I can give you till noon.” Freeman stood up, and extended his hand one more time. “For what it’s worth, I think the admiral is right. You can do this.”
Then why didn’t the admiral tell me himself? Wyatt thought as he watched the rock-steady man who’d had so many lives of his brothers in his hands. The commander wasn’t responsible for the FUBAR that had taken out his team. He’d been spitting mad at the outcome, and done something about it. He probably did believe Wyatt could pull it off, just like the admiral did, but Wyatt wasn’t that soldier anymore. Hadn’t been for a long time.