Thicker Than Water - DK5

by Melissa Good

  “Dar.”

  “Don’t you ‘Dar’ me.” Dar’s temper built. “I risked my damn life going back in that hell hole because you asked me to, and now you tell me never mind?”

  “You don’t understand,” Easton responded forcefully.

  “There’s more at stake here than one measly base, Dar. This could rock the entire Navy. Do you want that? Do you want everything your father fought for dragged through every inch of muck Thicker Than Water 47

  between Key Largo and DC?”

  Dar stared at the phone. “The people in that report,” she took a breath, “deserve that.”

  “I don’t give a damn about them,” Easton shot back. “It’s the Navy I care about. I’m not going to let something like this make us the laughingstock of the damn country. Of every other country.

  I’m just not going to do it, Dar!”

  Dar settled into her chair, folded her hands carefully on the desk, and leaned forward. “If you don’t,” she enunciated the words very, very carefully, “I will.”

  For a moment, dead silence reigned. Dar waited, anger puls-ing through her veins and making her nostrils flare as her breathing deepened and her heartbeat slowed. Her hands twitched, as though sensing an impending battle.

  “You wouldn’t do that,” Easton said quietly. “I know you, Paladar.”

  The very faintest hint of a wry smile appeared on Dar’s face.

  “You only think you do,” she growled softly, reveling in the tension. “I will do it, Gerald.” She paused. “I have to.”

  A final parry was inevitable. “Think of your father, Dar.

  Don’t you care what he thinks, how he’ll feel if you do this? You know how he loves the Navy.”

  A sense of peace settled over Dar. “I am thinking of him. He’d whup the tar out of me if I did any less, Gerry, and we both know that.”

  Another silence stretched between them. “Well, damn it.”

  Easton sounded more than frustrated. “I’m calling that boss of yours in here tomorrow and I’ll see if I can talk sense to him then, if I can’t get through your thick skull!” He slammed the phone down, leaving a ringing in Dar’s ears.

  Damn it.

  She took a deep breath, surprised to find herself shaking a little. “Damn.” She lowered her head into her hands and closed her eyes, thinking about what she’d said. Did Easton have a point?

  Would the report do irreparable damage to the service? “Guess I better warn Alastair.”

  “DAR.”

  Dar jumped almost a foot in her chair and whirled, shocked to see her father standing just inside the door that led down the back hall to Kerry’s office. She stared at him, then relaxed back into her seat. “Dad.”

  Andrew Roberts removed his hands from the pockets of his pullover, walked around the desk to her, and looked down, his 48 Melissa Good face quiet and very serious.

  Dar knew a moment of self-doubt. Gerald Easton had been right in one thing, she knew her father’s love and loyalty to the service ran very deep and very strong. She looked up into those pale blue eyes so like her own and wondered, Is the general right?

  Is this too big a sacrifice? “Guess you heard all that.”

  “Yeap.” Andy cupped Dar’s cheek in rare, gentle touch. “I ain’t never whupped you, Paladar.”

  She gave a faint, mildly embarrassed shrug. “Sounded good.”

  Dar looked down, then back up. “Was I wrong?”

  A grin remarkably like her own appeared. “Hell no, you weren’t wrong.” Andy eyed the phone. “But that there’s gonna be a hell of a problem.”

  Dar nodded.

  “Heard about Kerry’s pop.” Andy’s expression sobered.

  “Don’t rain but it pours, don’t it?”

  Dar nodded again, tiredly. “Yeap.” She thought about what Alastair would say and winced.

  Trouble. Oh yeah.

  “I was about to head home,” Dar said. “Been a long day.”

  “C’mon.” Andy offered her a hand up. “Got me some dog hairs I need to give back over by your place.” He put an arm around Dar’s shoulders as they walked to the door.

  IT WAS ALMOST like looking at a stranger. Kerry curled her fingers around the cold metal bars and gazed at her father’s face, half-hidden by the tubes and machinery keeping him alive. His eyes were taped closed and there was no expression on his face, as though he were no longer a person but rather a mannequin used for training.

  He would hate this so much, Kerry thought. Hate their pity, and the helplessness, and the indignity of it all. She lifted her eyes and studied the machines, then returned her gaze to that still, closed face. It was hard to know what to feel.

  Kerry tried to remember the last time she’d felt joy in her father’s presence. When he’d been “daddy,” and she’d smiled just to see him. Her eyes moistened as she acknowledged just how long ago that was and how very young she’d been.

  Too young to understand.

  Maybe, five, six? Kerry’s lips tightened as a dimly remembered scene flickered before her—a birthday party. She’d gotten a pair of roller skates she’d desperately wanted, blue ones with silver tassels, and she’d thrown her arms around her father in sheer delight because she knew he’d gotten them for her.

  Thicker Than Water 49

  Five, then, before she’d gone to school, when life had been as simple as peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and the long days of fall she could skate in. She had a picture, somewhere, of herself in those skates, with kneepads and a grubby T-shirt. Grinning.

  He’d hugged her back. Patted her. Called her his little girl.

  Kerry flexed her hands on the bars, and released a shaky breath. That had been a very long time ago, indeed. She reached through the bars and laid her hand on her father’s arm, the skin feeling dry and papery beneath her touch. Then she slid her hand down until she curled her fingers around his, a simple touch she hadn’t felt since she’d been a child.

  What she chiefly felt right now, Kerry acknowledged, was a deep sense of regret. “I’m sorry, daddy. I wish it hadn’t been like this.” She watched the unresponsive face. “I never meant for us to hate each other.”

  She blinked, feeling a few tears spill down her face. “I hope you find peace with God.”

  For a few moments, she simply stood there, holding his hand.

  Then a sound made her look up, to see one of the nurses coming in. They exchanged awkward glances. “Sorry.” Kerry released her hold and backed away. “I know I’m not supposed to be in here.”

  “It’s all right,” the nurse replied with quiet compassion. “Is that your father, honey?”

  Kerry nodded.

  “I’m sorry.” The woman, who was probably twice Kerry’s age, had a sweet face and a warm expression. “I know it must be tough for you.” She walked around to Kerry’s side and fixed a tube next to the bed. “Take your time. Everything we can do for him, we’re doing.”

  “I know you are.” Kerry wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. “How…um...” She cleared her throat. “How long could he stay like this?”

  The nurse faced her and met her eyes honestly. “As long as you let him.” At Kerry’s look of pain, she put out a hand. “I’m sorry, honey. I know that sounds harsh. But you know something?

  I’ve worked in this unit for a long time, and sometimes death isn’t our enemy.”

  Kerry found a place on the tile floor to focus on.

  The nurse took a step back. “I’m sorry.” She fell silent. “I didn’t meant to upset you. I thought the doctor had already spoken to the family about this.”

  “He did,” Kerry murmured softly. “But I don’t think we’re ready for that decision yet.”

  They were both silent for a few moments, then Kerry shifted and put her hands on the bars. She felt sick to her stomach, the 50 Melissa Good tension creeping up her back and making her head pound. The nurse watched her, then adjusted a wire and left quietly, her steps muffled by the overhead speakers making s
oft, urgent announce-ments.

  DAR AND ANDREW sat side by side on the couch, sharing a bowl of ice cream and a good deal of conversation. “If that’s what you found there,” Andrew portioned off a scoop of vanilla, “what else they got to look forward to? Can’t blame ’em for sticking their heads back down underneath the manure, Dardar.”

  “Dad, it’s not like this is Tailhook,” Dar said. “Or some half assed misuse of government funds crap. This is documented evidence of big money smuggling and money laundering.”

  Andrew grunted.

  Dar removed a cherry and bit down on the stem as she considered all that had happened. “Hell if I’m going to let that jackass get away with this. Alastair’s just gonna have to take a stand on his morals on this one.”

  Andrew glanced at her. “Ah don’t think Jeff Ainsbright’s the mover and shaker, Dardar. Just the nitwit they done got to front it all. Figgured he done just used his kid to roadblock you.”

  “A pair of stooges.” Dar sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But damn it, someone has to be behind it, Dad.”

  “Yeap.” Andrew nodded. “Problem is, that feller pro’bly ain’t gonna get hisself nailed for it. Big shots always find some little feller to squash.”

  “Maybe. But I’m not going to help them hide it.” Dar glanced at the sliding glass doors, which showed a peaceful darkness outside. She was a little surprised she hadn’t heard from Kerry, but maybe no news was good news. The television had reported several times that the senator’s condition was “guarded,” and Dar figured that at least sounded all right. “Thanks for keeping me company for dinner, by the way.”

  “Heh.” Andrew chuckled. “Your momma’s done gone to one of them art things tonight. I figured pot luck with you was gonna beat out that crackers and cheese mess they always have.”

  “Ah. Yeah, I’m not much into the rubber chicken circuit myself.” Dar smiled. “I used to leave business cocktail parties and stop at Burger King on the way home.” She jumped a little as her cell phone rang. “Whoops.” She dug it out, checked the caller id, and opened it. “Hey.”

  There was silence for a moment, then a sigh. “Hey.”

  Dar sat up, reading the tension and grief in her lover’s voice.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Thicker Than Water 51

  “What isn’t?” Kerry whispered. “Oh, Dar.”

  Panic set in. Dar’s pulse jumped, and her mind raced. “Are you okay?” Her voice took on a sharp edge and Andy put the bowl on the table and watched her in evident concern. “Where are you?”

  Kerry leaned against the car door and closed her eyes. “Outside the hotel. In the car. I just wanted to talk to you before I went in.” She wished her head didn’t feel like it was exploding. “They want us to pull the plug.”

  Dar sucked in her breath. “God, I’m sorry, Ker.”

  “Me, too,” Kerry replied softly. “Everyone’s a wreck. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do.” She’d gone back from the CCU unit and faced her mother, who was in hysterics and everyone else in pieces, and just dealing with the barrage had been difficult enough.

  Getting out of the hospital had been worse. The press had rubbed them raw and she’d finally torn herself free, outran two of the most persistent and jumped over a low wall that had led her to where her car was parked.

  Her relatives had all gone to her family’s house. They expected her to follow. Kerry had huddled inside the car, knowing she couldn’t. It was just too much. Now she was outside the hotel and reaching for her lifeline. “Shit.”

  “Want me on a plane?” Dar asked. “Screw everything.”

  Kerry’s defenses broke down. Her throat closed and her eyes fill with tears and she suddenly wanted to be in Dar’s arms so badly it hurt. She gasped and held the phone close, trying not to start sobbing.

  “That’s it. I’m on the way.” Dar’s voice went from concerned to decisive in quick order. “Just hang on, okay?”

  Kerry took several deep breaths. “No…wait,” she managed to get out. “Dear God, I’d love for you to be here.” She sucked in another ragged breath. “But they can’t take it, Dar. It’s too much.”

  “Fuck them,” Dar replied. “I don’t give a damn about them. I give a damn about you and what you want, and that’s all there is to it.”

  Kerry watched several couples walk by.

  “So what do you want?” Dar asked very quietly.

  “I want you,” Kerry whispered.

  “You’ve got me.”

  “Give me a day with them, Dar.” Kerry felt very, very tired.

  “I think we’re going to make the decision tomorrow night. I could use a friend around when that happens.”

  “I’ll be there,” Dar said. “Are you all right?”

  She could feel the tunneling starting. “No.” The light outside 52 Melissa Good was suddenly garish. “Let me go inside before this migraine hits.”

  “Call me later,” Dar said. “Please?”

  “I will,” Kerry replied. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Kerry closed the phone and gathered her strength, then opened the door and let in the cold night air.

  DAR SET THE phone down and stared at it. “Damn it.”

  Andrew put his plate down. “Not doing too good up there?”

  “He’s on life support and they want to end it.”

  “Ah.” Her father drew in a sobering breath. “Wall, I got to say I never had much use for that feller, but I feel bad for Kerry having to go through all that.”

  “Yeah.” Dar went over and over Kerry’s words, and more importantly, the tone behind them.

  “You going up over there?”

  “Tomorrow. Probably,” Dar replied. “Kerry said her family’s pretty shook up.”

  Andrew’s eyes twinkled. “Think she’d want you up there just to take their minds off her.”

  “Huh.” Dar stood up and walked across the living room. She stopped at the back sliding doors and gazed out over the porch to the sea. The sunset poured across the sand and water, a lone seagull drifted over the waves as though searching for something in its depths.

  Kerry had specifically asked her not to come up until she was ready. Dar respected her partner’s desire and almost understood the ambivalence between Kerry wanting the comfort of her presence, and not wanting the antagonism it would cause.

  She understood it. Really, she did. Her ears twitched, hearing the echo of that stifled sob as Kerry told her to stay, and she balanced it against the knowledge that between the network problem and the military, things were going to come down at work the next day. “Dad?”

  “Surely I’ll give you a ride to that thar airport, Dardar,”

  Andrew said placidly. “’Member to pack them long johns. It ain’t tropical up there.”

  Dar met her own eyes’ reflection in the sliding glass door.

  “Well, worst she could do is throw me out of her hotel room. She doesn’t have to tell anyone I’m there, right?”

  “Yeap.”

  Dar turned. “Thanks for the ride offer, but I don’t know how long we’ll be out there. I’ll just leave mine at the airport.”

  A grizzled brow moved upward. “Dangerous, them parking Thicker Than Water 53

  lots, Dardar.”

  “Um.” Dar’s eyes twinkled sheepishly. “I use the valet.” She escaped to the bedroom, taking her yuppy confessions with her.

  Andrew merely chuckled and got up to put the dishes in the sink.

  AT LEAST THE lobby was quiet. Kerry brushed past the tastefully decorated Christmas tree, causing the ornaments to tin-kle softly, and sidestepped a heavyset man intent on gaining the bar. The Marriott tended to attract business travelers, and the lounge seemed to be full of them, bending forward in intent conversation as a ball game played mutely in the background.

  The front desk was devoid of guests, and Kerry gratefully set her bag down and fished for her wallet as the clerk looked up and gave her a fr
iendly smile. “I have a reservation. Under Stuart.”

  The young clerk, a well scrubbed boy with short blond hair obligingly tapped a few keys on his computer, then smiled. “Yes, ma’am, Ms. Stuart; we certainly do have it.”

  God bless you, Dar. Kerry leaned wearily on the counter, hoping she’d taken her painkillers in time. She handed over her credit card.

  “Do you need help with your luggage, ma’am?” the clerk asked, ignoring the card and presenting her with an envelope.

  “Your key’s in there. It’s the twelfth floor, turn right, first door.”

  Kerry took the envelope. “Thanks.” She put her credit card back into her wallet, too tired and sick to argue about it. Dar’s planning, she was sure, but there would be time enough to change it when she checked out. She shouldered her bag and trudged to the elevator, wishing the perkily playing holiday Musak tape would break and leave her in peace.

  But no. The music continued in the elevator, which climbed leisurely to the twelfth floor and finally released her into a cooler hallway. “Turn right, first door,” Kerry muttered, following the instructions and finding herself unsurprisingly in front of a hotel room door set in an alcove by itself. She fished in the envelope and pulled out the electronic key, slid it in and listened for the click, then pushed the handle down and shoved the door open.

  It took her three steps before she noticed something unusual—the door slammed shut behind her as she stood and simply stared.

  “What on earth?” Kerry whispered. The room was huge, roughly three times the size of a regular room, and laid out as though it was a… She stuck her head into the bathroom and saw the heart shaped tub. “I’m in the honeymoon suite. What in the 54 Melissa Good hell am I doing in here?”

  She walked to a plush, leather chair and sat down and took in the fully stocked bar, plates of pretty good-looking fruit, and the half-sized refrigerator.

  Exhaustion overtook her. She slumped forward and leaned her elbows on her knees, too tired even to care. Feeling the pain building, she cradled her head in her hands and decided that if she was going to be sick and miserable, it might as well be in such luxurious surroundings. She hadn’t eaten anything all day, but the thought of food almost made her gag. With a groan, she pushed herself to her feet, dragged her bag over to the bed, lifted it up, and unzipped it.