Lela all right, but on the wicker couch wrapped in the arms of a man.
She sniffed and wiped her eyes.
He muttered words of comfort while smoothing the hair from her brow.
Rooted to the spot, Jay folded his arms. Who was this guy? He cleared his throat and the man turned.
“Hi, Jay.”
Lela wiggled out of the man’s embrace, and said over her shoulder, “Jay. You remember Manny?”
Sure. Manny the co-worker? “Yes. Good afternoon, Manny. I, um, need to go to my room.” He pivoted and dashed off, fighting the desire to yank Lela from Manny’s arms as his feet pounded the stairs.
Why was that man here? And what was Lela doing in his embrace? Spots flashed before his eyes. He assuredly had smoke streaming from his ears.
God, what is wrong with me?
40
Lela dabbed at her puffy eyes with a cold washcloth then tossed it on the counter. Sharing details of her past with Jay and reliving Gilbert’s abuse left her like a turtle without a shell. The conversation with an understanding Manny set off an uncharacteristic crying bout that she hadn’t experienced since her golden Lab puppy died when she was ten.
One last look at her reflection in the bathroom mirror confirmed her decision—forego the evening meal with the family to work in her room. But when she laid on the bed and closed her eyes, turmoil churned through her soul.
Too many failures.
Although she’d done everything she could to locate Chuck, she was no closer to finding him than she’d been yesterday. And Margie. When she’d visited the house after talking to Freddy, there was a For Rent sign in the yard. Lela had even solicited Sadie’s assistance in tracking her mother’s friend. Did any of that spell success?
Rolling over, she pounded the pillow and said out loud, “What about your resolve to be wary of men, Lela? How’s that working for you? Yeah, Jay is handsome, caring, single-minded, and almost worth breaking your vow. But…”
She stared at the ceiling as if her life story was displayed there. “Talk about a failure. What about Smitty?”
Agent Preston Smith had been a big disappointment. So physically attractive it hurt to look at him, but he turned out to be shallow, and self-centered. How could she love anyone when loving equaled pain and sorrow?
In three strides, she stood at the window. The lighted pool down below glistened invitingly. What prevented her from going for a swim? Her scars? No.
Her frustrations with her job and her messed up love life were merely distractions. She could not ignore the tug on her spirit that Jay's discussion generated. She desperately wanted to renew her relationship with God. But her past kept rearing its monstrous head, blocking her path. How could she dislodge such an insurmountable obstacle?
Teeth grinding, she swung around and flopped back onto the bed. She needed to occupy her mind with anything other than a parade of her personal disasters. She opened her laptop and read the report from Sadie.
Minutes later, she bounded down the stairs in search of Jay, Manny, or Pam.
No one in the dining room or kitchen. Beth and the girls were watching a movie in the sunroom. And Jay?
Through the large window, Lela caught a glimpse of her quarry outside by the pool. Forget the IRO agents. She returned to the kitchen and opened the back door.
Jay motioned to her. “Come join me.”
Landscape lighting illuminated the trees, sending a soft glow across the area where he sat.
A welcome invitation. She settled next to him in another padded chaise longue chair. Although eager to share her news, she couldn’t help notice his drooping shoulders and monotone voice.
“You’ll never guess what happened. IRO located Walter’s ex-wife.”
“Great.” He straightened. “Has she given them any vital information?”
“Yes and no. First, she had no idea he was involved in anything illegal. She confirmed theories we already had such as Walter’s anger at Chuck for firing him. Without a reference, he couldn’t get a job in the financial field. And in a roundabout way, he blames Chuck for his son’s death and his divorce.”
“That explains why Walter might be involved in the kidnapping. But what about—”
“Trina Ferguson gave them a list of Walter’s friends. Names, but only two addresses, and the location of a cabin north of San Diego where they used to go as a family.”
Jay punched the armrest of the chair. “That’s what I want to hear. Are we following up on any of these people?”
Shaking her head, Lela folded her arms. “No. Smitty, Cooper, and Pam will investigate. I don’t understand his reasoning, but Bowen wants us here.” She rested her head against the tall chair. “One other interesting piece of info. The reason IRO had difficulty locating residences for any of Walter’s gang is because most were rented through a shell corporation. No doubt funded by Vanessa and her cohorts. They’re investigating.”
“It must be a vast organization.”
Lela pursed her lips. The leads were promising, but she and Jay would not be participating. Numbness inched into her core. Why? She rubbed her eyes and remembered. Although the other agents might locate Chuck or find clues to his whereabouts, she had a dozen dilemmas to conquer with no idea how to win the war.
A sideways peek at Jay revealed he, too, sat in silent contemplation.
Lela sucked in a deep breath of the sweet, pungent, and lemony scents from the flowers and shrubs that melded together in the still, night air. A scant whiff of chlorine intruded. Water gushing over rocks into the far end of pool added to the serenity.
If only she could send all her problems tumbling over the waterfall where they would melt or disintegrate.
“How are you?”
Jay's question shattered the tranquility. “Fine, thanks. How are you?”
“No fair. I asked first. Why were you crying earlier?”
Pulse speeding, she swallowed. Must he head straight to the place she didn’t want to go? But his gentle tone penetrated the annoyance and poked her heart. Lela crossed her ankles and intertwined her fingers. “Manny and I have been friends a long time. He knows about Gilbert.” Her voice cracked. She swallowed, taking a moment to regroup. “After I told you about, um, about my life back then…my emotions were raw. I needed to vent. Manny is my sounding board. My best friend.”
Jay tenderly placed his hand over hers. Instinct shouted for her to pull away, but the warmth kept her from moving. She allowed the aquamarine water to claim her attention.
“Was he ever more than that? Were you romantically—”
“No. His wife is my cousin.” Leave it be, Jay. This time she yanked her hand free. Why did he have to mention the R word? Would she ever experience the sweet romances her sisters enjoyed?
Lela swung her legs down and escaped to the palm tree at the edge of the flagstone covered deck where she turned to lean against the trunk. Fine. If that’s what he wants to discuss. “Speaking of romance, how’s Kate?”
“She’s all right, but I won’t be seeing her again.”
Her head shot up. That was not what she expected. She squinted at his shadowed face. Was he smiling? “Are you OK?”
Arms behind his head, his expression communicated—what? Relief? “Believe it or not, I am. Her latest crisis turned out to be manufactured. And I think she got the message this time that we will not be renewing our relationship.”
Lela lowered her head to suppress a grin. Oops. Why would the end of Jay's involvement with Kate send a tingle to her insides? “Breakups can be painful.”
“Remember, we broke up a year ago. She recently decided she wanted to rekindle the romance. I’m not smarting. What I feel is…more sadness than anything. Disappointed in my decisions about a spouse.” He poked at a stain on his jeans. “I’ve waited years for the right partner. I can wait a little longer. After all, God is in control, and nothing I do will change His schedule.”
“You truly believe God has the perfect mate in mind for you?”
“Yes.”
Lela tilted her head to see the star-studded sky through the foliage. “What does that say about my marriage to Gilbert? Was he the partner God chose for me?”
In one easy move, Jay climbed out of the chair and stood at her side. “I’m sorry, Lela. My comments were insensitive. All I can say is that I pray about every aspect of my life. I crave God’s blessings in all I do. I study the Bible and try to apply the principles to my situation.” He pointed to the chairs. “Can we sit again?”
She shook her head. Unfamiliar emotions catapulted through her gut like a seismic event. Standing provided more control.
“All right.” He backed away. “God won’t come to me in a vison and tell me whom to marry. Humans have free will. We make choices, but if we pray over those decisions, He will guide us.”
“I’m confused. I understand the part about you praying for God’s guidance in your future. But what about the person who didn’t ask for His help and made the wrong choice?” Her throat tightened. During her senior year of high school, when handsome football star Gilbert Ortiz asked her out, all she’d thought about was how jealous her friends would be. Seeking God’s guidance never entered her mind. “Does God abandon that person? Will He help…her if she later asks Him?”
“Of course. You may not have consulted God before you married. As much as that experience devastated you, it’s in the past. God can bring healing and comfort.”
For a moment, Lela basked in the peaceful setting. “Do you always make good choices, Jay? Have you ever acted without God’s guidance?”
He rubbed his face and sighed. “My dear Lela, have I ever?” Without warning, his shoulders hunched. Head bowed and face ashen, he huffed air in and out like a panting dog.
Concerned, Lela stared.
He staggered toward the chair and sat on the edge, elbows on knees, hands covering his face.
41
Regretful decisions? It would take Jay all night to list them. Aware of Lela now standing a foot away, he wanted to answer her questions. He fought to stay present. The cold darkness dragged him away. No. Stop. But then the village materialized. The explosion flared before his eyes. Flames engulfed shrubs, buildings. The air acrid. Children screaming. And little Tariq with his soccer ball…the one Jay had given him. A convulsive sob shook his body.
Hands gripped his shoulders.
Lela knelt before him. “What’s wrong, Jay? How can I help?”
Make the memories disappear. Can you do that? As much as he wanted to scream the words, he held his tongue, and removed his hands from his face. “I’m OK.” But he wasn’t.
“No, you’re not.” She perched on the edge of the chair next to him and held his hand.
Lela’s soft flesh acted as a balm. Thankful she had the sense not to slam him with more questions right away, he concentrated on breathing to lower his blood pressure and slow his heart rate. In, out. In, out. Flashbacks had always been triggered by visual or auditory stimuli. Never by a question.
Minutes passed with only the splashing water as a backdrop.
To dispel the shroud of painful images, he shook his upper body. An influx of oxygen cleared his head.
La Jolla, calm evening, safe.
“I guess I owe you an explanation.” He studied her face, so close he could see flecks of gold in her chocolate eyes.
“No, you don’t.”
He shrugged. “I’m such a fraud. Just this morning I offered you advice in dealing with your past. But I can’t get over one incident—”
“Is your reaction connected to your military service?”
The arid plains of Afghanistan, the small villages, the children begging for candy played on a loop in his mind. He looked skyward. “Uh-huh.”
“A friend once told me it helped to share emotional wounds.”
A smile crept across his face. She’d quoted his words back to him. “You win, but after I tell you my story, we return to your questions. Deal?” Having that goal in mind gave him a boost of energy. He was in control.
“Deal.” She released his hand and scooted back on the chair.
Indecision roiled his stomach into clumps. He didn’t want to talk about Tariq. But he wouldn’t renege on his word. A deep breath aided his resolve, and he willed strength into his voice. “During my final tour in Afghanistan, my squad was one of those charged with a hearts-and-minds assignment. You know what that is?”
“Yeah. Show the locals you’re a human being, not just a soldier.”
“Marine, not to be picky.” He swiped at the beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. No matter how he tried to be cool, the retelling took a toll on his psyche. “We shared our rations with the kids, especially. They loved the chocolate and gum.” He stared straight ahead, glad Lela was next to him, out of his focus for now. He needed to concentrate.
“I’d also taken a soccer ball with me. My guys and I would play with the boys every chance we got.” His throat thickened. Held captive by his promise to Lela, he folded his arms. He wouldn’t break down.
Next thing he knew, Lela’s hand rested on his shoulder. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
Sweat mixed with a tear or two stung his eyes. Gaze fixed on the foliage on the far side of the pool, Jay let out a ragged breath. “There was this one little boy, Tariq, about ten, I think. Skinny, with buckteeth that made his smile irresistible. He was probably homeless since he showed up in every village we entered. Always in time to play soccer.”
Another spell of silence. Jay closed his eyes. He could hear Tariq’s shouts of triumph after scoring a goal.
“The last day of our deployment, we made the rounds to several villages in our zone. Tariq followed as usual. After our final game, I gave him the soccer ball.”
“That was thoughtful,” Lela said.
Jay bounded out of the chair and yelled, “No, it was not. He died because of that stupid ball.” Breathing hard, he stormed to the nearest tree and pressed his forehead against the bark. How many times had he asked himself why he’d given Tariq the ball? If only he’d brought it home instead.
A lone bird chirped in the branches overhead, breaking into his self-loathing. He looked up to see Lela’s gaze on him. He half expected her to get up and walk inside, but she motioned for him to return to the chair, an expression of understanding on her face that all but buckled his knees.
He followed her bidding as if drawn by an unseen thread. Seated beside her again, he said, “Sorry I raised my voice.”
“And I’m sorry I interrupted. Please continue.”
One gulp of air. Two. “As we left the last village, Tariq kicked the ball onto a barren field in the center of town. He ran to get it and stepped on a landmine. Killed him and three other boys.” Teeth grinding, Jay scrunched his eyes tight, not willing to experience the scene again.
42
Anyone in the house looking outside at that moment might think Lela and Jay were sitting side by side enjoying a calm relaxing evening by the pool. How wrong they’d be.
Lela desperately wanted to take Jay into her arms, but he sat as rigid as a stake. Sharing emotional baggage was hard—she knew from experience. Jay needed time to regain his equilibrium. Silent minutes passed, but she could wait no longer. She stretched out her hand toward him, not even knowing whether his eyes were open or not.
Seconds ticked by before he took her hand and drew it to his lips. His brief kiss spoke volumes. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“No. Thank you for telling me about that young boy.”
“I don’t share the story often.”
A familiar refrain. How many people knew of Lela’s past? She squeezed his hand. “Now I know why you’re ultra-protective of your nieces and nephew.”
“Exactly.” He swung his legs off the chaise longue and faced her, a tentative smile showcasing his dimples. “Ed, my co-worker, says I must remember it’s not my job to police the world.”
“Smart guy.” Lela studied his face. Al
though the sparkle hadn’t returned to his denim eyes, his skin had regained normal color. She withdrew her hand, suddenly aware of the intimacy of the moment. Change the subject. “We’re a lot alike, Mr. Vashon.”
“How so, Agent Ortiz?”
Jump right in. “First, we both have emotional scars that interfere with our lives at times. Agree?”
“True. But one thing to keep in mind, scars, both physical and emotional, only show where we’ve been. They don’t determine our future. What else?”
“We like to be in charge, in control.”
“Right again. But you have to admit, I’ve been a compliant participant in this investigation.” He hiked a shoulder. “Except for my momentary ego snit when I wanted to strike out on my own, and when I disagreed about Lewis Street.”
She pursed her lips. “I’m glad you stayed, but will you continue to take orders from me?”
A shadow seemed to pass over his face.
Lela stood, not sure how to react. She returned to the palm tree and leaned against it, a safe distance from Jay.
But he closed the gap and stood in front of her, hands in his pockets. “We had a deal, remember?”
What was he talking about?
“I agreed to tell you about Tariq as long as we revisited our previous discussion.”
Unbelievable. How could he casually dismiss his recent gut-wrenching narrative?
What had they been talking about, anyway?
He must have read the question on her face.
Turning her head, she avoided the intense frankness emanating from his eyes. Oh, yes. She’d questioned whether or not God would help those—her in particular—who’d acted without including Him in decisions.
Jay, standing as close as he could without invading her personal space, cocked his head. “I’d like to recap our conversation.”
“No need.” She swallowed. “I recall it all.” Now her baggage resurfaced and tainted her mind with doubt. “I want to know how to overcome mistakes in my past. Move on without making the same blunders.”
Day of Reckoning Page 19