Heart of a Marine

by Patricia (Patty) Campbell

  “I’ll go inside and tell Slim and Jack that I’ll be out for the rest of the day. Let’s take your van. I haven’t had time to unload my truck.”

  “I’ll wait for you out here. I want to call Grace and let her know what’s going on before we go looking for them.”

  “I’ll be back in five.” He rushed inside, found his two main guys, and quickly related what he knew. “Jack, call Cluny and give him a head’s up. I want everybody to keep their eyes peeled for Francine and Luke, and let me know the minute they learn anything.”

  “We’re on it, Gunny.”

  He headed for the door and stopped. “Oh, Slim, would you finish unloading my truck?”

  “Yep. Beat it, we’ve got it covered here.”

  Now his woman was safely in his arms. She’d never felt so precious to him. “I love you, Danaher.”

  “I love you back, Dempsey.” He held her tighter, never wanted to let her go. “I’m taking you and your mutt home.”

  “My mutt was eager to attack that snake tattoo on Luke’s neck. I had to hold him back. He’s my brave little protector.”

  Dwayne looked Skip in the eye. “That right? Okay then, Private Danaher, I’m giving you a battlefield promotion. You’re now Corporal Danaher. Let’s go.”

  Dylan sat behind the wheel, Marla and Skipper in the middle, and Dwayne on the passenger side of the front seat of the furniture factory van.

  “Which way was the car going when you saw it, honey?”

  Marla leaned forward and pointed straight ahead. “Simi Valley.”

  “Before we take Marla home, let’s take a run down that way. We might get lucky and spot the car.”

  Dylan’s van was already facing the direction he wanted him to go, so he eased back onto the road. They drove through the hilly, mostly undeveloped land between Simi and Spring Grove. “I doubt we’ll find them, but it’s worth a try. If we don’t see anything by the time we hit the east end of Simi, we’ll turn around and take you home.”

  “You don’t need to take me home. I’m fine. I’d rather help you look.”

  Dwayne leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Whatever you say, boss.” He admired her spunk. She was strong and smart. How did he get so lucky?

  She chuckled. “I’m not your boss anymore, remember? I already paid you off so I could be rid of you.”

  Dylan chimed in, “You may not be his boss, but I doubt you’re rid of him.” They’d reached a fork in the quiet road. “Which way do you want me to go?”

  “There’s nothing up there, go left. It’s more likely they’re staying in one of those fleabags at the edge of town.” Not sure what to do if he found them, Dwayne took out his wallet, found his lawyer’s card and tapped the number on his cell.

  Marla nodded at his phone. “Who are you calling?”

  “My lawyer. I want him to know what happened.” The man was with a client, so he left his number. The receptionist told him it would probably be at the end of the day before he’d call back because he’d be in court all afternoon.

  “Dylan! There’s the car! Over there. See?” Marla bounced in the seat and flapped her hand at the pot-holed parking lot of the Nighty Nite Motel. “I’m sure that’s the car.”

  “I’ll park by the office.”

  Dwayne’s heart rate increased. He squeezed Marla’s knee. “We’ll go inside. You stay in the van.”

  “But…”

  “Dammit, just do as I say for once, please!” He didn’t miss the offended expression on her face, but he didn’t care either. He yanked open the door and stepped out.

  He and his brother entered the seedy, deserted office. Dylan nodded to a sign that said Ring Bell for Assistance. He slammed his hand on it a couple of times. They waited.

  Finally a potbellied man in his fifties pushed through the swinging door. “Can I help ya?”

  Dwayne stepped close to the counter and gave the man a friendly smile. “Yes, we’re friends of the Henrys. Luke and Francine. I don’t remember the number of the unit they’re in.”

  “Lemme have a look.” Dwayne caught a whiff of the man’s body odor when he leaned forward and tapped his computer. He squinted at the fingerprinted screen. “They’re in 14A, first floor. Down that-a-way.”

  Dwayne slapped the counter. “Thank you.”

  They stepped outside. Dylan stuck his hands in his pockets. “Now what?”

  “I’m going down there and throw the fear of God into that bastard, Luke. You can come with me or wait in the van with Marla. This isn’t your fight.”

  “Like hell it isn’t. Let’s go.”

  Dwayne pounded on the chipped orange painted door. Luke opened it but left the chain in place.

  “Well, lookie who’s here, Frannie. Your ex-husband, the gimpy war hero.”

  Dwayne put his shoulder to the door, slammed into it, and the chain snapped, hitting Luke on the cheekbone. He shoved the door open, grabbed him by the neck, and slammed him back against the wall.

  Francine screamed, “That’s assault! That’s assault! I’m calling 911!”

  Dylan stepped inside and grabbed the phone from her hand. “I’d keep my mouth shut if I were you, Francine.” He hung it up and faced Dwayne. “Take it easy, brother. We’re just here to impart information, remember?”

  His big brother’s words seeped through Dwayne’s blinding rage. He eased up on Luke’s throat but didn’t let go. “Here’s some ‘information’ for you, asshole,” he growled through gritted teeth. “If you ever approach me, my family, or any of my employees or my friends again, I will personally tear you apart piece by piece. Do you understand this ‘information,’ Henry? Because if you don’t, I’ll gladly repeat it.”

  For emphasis, he tightened his grip. Luke Henry’s murky black eyes bulged, and he tore at his hands, struggling to breathe. The more he fought back, the tighter Dwayne gripped.

  Dwayne felt Dylan’s hand on his shoulder. “I think he got the message. Let’s go.”

  Francine pointed to the damage on the door. “You’re gonna pay for that! I’m still gonna call the cops on your ass.”

  He whirled around and glared at the harridan wildly waving her arms and wondered what he possibly could have ever been attracted to. “Go right ahead. I’ll wait till they get here.”

  Luke bent over, grasping his throat and gagging. Francine ran to him. “Get out! Get out!”

  Dylan gripped his arm. “Let’s go. Now.”

  When they exited the room, he headed back in the direction of the office. Dylan kept pace with him. “What are you doing?”

  “I broke his door. I’m going to pay for it.” He pushed inside and slammed his hand on the bell.

  The man came in. “Need somethin’ else?” He took a step back when he got a good look at Dwayne’s face.

  “No, sorry, I broke the security chain on your door.” He took out his wallet and tossed a hundred dollar bill on the counter. “This should cover it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Marla and Skipper sat on Dwayne’s sofa while he showered. She took her phone from her purse and called Rosie Wyland.

  “Wow, Marla. Dylan told me what happened. Are you okay?”

  “I’m still a little wobbly, but I have to tell you—this morning was the first time anybody ever threw the F-bomb in my face. It’s not like I never heard it before, but it was pretty shocking. Don’t mention it. Dwayne already has murder in his eye.”

  The memory of the black look on his face when he came out of Francine’s room still gave her pause. One thing she knew for sure—she hoped she’d never see him that angry again. It was downright unnerving in such a physically powerful man.

  “I won’t say anything. No need to throw gas on the fire.”

  “My thoughts, exactly.” An idea popped into her head. “Look, Rosie, I was thinking you’d like to meet my sister, Charlene. Can we get together for lunch or dinner before you leave for Wyoming?”

  “I’d love that! Just think—two girlfriends in less than a month. T
hat’s a record for me. Comes from a lifetime lived in the wide open spaces, I guess.” Her laughter tinkled over the phone. “I’ll only be here till Tuesday morning. That leaves three nights.”

  “Great, let’s aim for Sunday. I’ll call you after I have a chance to talk to Charlene. Dwayne’s finished his shower. We’re going to dinner then he’ll stay at my house tonight. My big, strong bodyguard.”

  “Aren’t you the lucky one?”

  “Yes. Got to go. Bye.”

  She got up and walked down the hall to his bedroom. He was dressed except for a shirt. Her heart tripped when she admired his bare chest.

  “T-shirt okay?”

  “T-shirt is fine. I thought we’d stop by the burger joint and get carryout. We can relax and eat at home.” She looked in the open drawer and lifted out a neatly folded rugby shirt. “I like this one.”

  “I don’t know how I ever dressed myself.”

  “Oh, shut up. I’m hungry. Skip’s hungry. Let’s go.” She ran her hand across his chest and flashed what she hoped was an irresistible smile.

  “Keep your hands off me, Danaher, or we’re not going anywhere.”

  “I’ll try, Dempsey.” She grinned and went back to the living room to retrieve her jacket and purse. She called, “We’re way-aa-ting.”

  Having polished off three hamburgers and a couple of Dr. Peppers, Dwayne groaned and dropped his head on the back of her couch. She waved a French fry under his nose. “Don’t you dare go to sleep on me. We need to talk.”

  “Oh, shit, I just love it when a woman says, ‘We need to talk.’ It usually means ‘You’re out the door, buddy.’”

  “Not this time.” She snuggled next to him. “I want to talk about what you think will happen next with Francine and her husband—what you’ll do if they don’t back off.”

  He threw his arm over her shoulder. “We’ve got an old saying up in Wyoming: Don’t borrow trouble.” Nuzzling her hair, he whispered, “I’m ready for bed.”

  She straightened. “Everybody has that saying, and you’re always ready for bed.” She smiled. “Don’t give me that look.”

  “I don’t want you in the middle of my mess, Danaher.”

  “I am in the middle of it, Dempsey.”

  He pressed his lips together and sighed. “Yeah, I guess you are.” He rubbed his hand up and down her arm until she relaxed and snuggled next to him again. “I’m in love with you, honey.”

  “I know, thank you. That makes me very happy. There’s nothing sadder than unrequited love, don’t you think?”

  “God, you turn me on when you use those big words. Kiss me, or I can’t be responsible for the consequences.”

  She tilted her head up for his kiss and was surprised at the tenderness of it. “You have a few big words of your own, don’t you?” She caressed his cheek and thanked her lucky stars that this wonderful man hadn’t been snatched up by another woman. “I love you, Dwayne Dempsey.”

  “I know, thank you.” He took her hand from his face and pressed it on his lap. “Big words are nice, but I’ve got something bigger for you.”

  “You are bad, bad, bad.” She pressed down. “Real bad.”

  He stood and pulled her to her feet. “You haven’t seen bad yet.”

  Saturday morning around eight, Dwayne, shirtless, wearing only exercise shorts, answered the knock on Marla’s door.

  Skipper scrambled to get there ahead of him.

  A small man with thick sandy hair, wearing glasses, about his own age, stood on the doorstep and stared back at him with shock on his face and in his eyes. He stood stiffly in pressed khaki pants and a blue button-down shirt. “Is Marla home?”

  “Yep.” He turned and yelled, “Somebody here to see you, honey.”

  She called from the bedroom. “Who is it?”

  He raised his eyebrows at the man. “You are?”

  “Edwin Plimpton. I’ve obviously come at an inconvenient time.”

  “Not at all.” Dwayne berated himself for deriving so much satisfaction from the man’s words and outraged demeanor. This was the Edwin he’d heard about. Marla’s boyfriend. No wonder she thought she was fat. Edwin was not more than an inch taller than her, and he likely weighed ten pounds less. He extended his hand. “Dwayne Dempsey. Come on in.”

  At first Edwin didn’t move. He stared at Dwayne’s leg, tore his eyes away, then tentatively stepped inside. Skipper yipped with excitement, happy to see him. He hopped on his hind legs and clawed at the man’s pants. Edwin gave him a little push with his foot and ignored him.

  Dwayne called again, “It’s Edwin Plimpton, honey. Are you decent?” It took all his willpower to suppress an evil chuckle. He was no better than a cur marking his territory, but he didn’t give a shit. He was enjoying this. He felt a moment of shame for his behavior. This guy didn’t deserve it.

  Marla answered with a choked voice. “I’ll, um, I’ll be right there.”

  Dwayne gestured toward the sofa. “Have a seat.” He went ahead of Edwin and picked up the debris of last night’s hamburger feast. “Sorry for the mess. Will you excuse me? She should be here in a minute or so.”

  Marla entered the living room as he was leaving. Her face so white the usually invisible sprinkle of freckles on her nose glowed like neon. Bewildered, she pressed a hand on her chest. “I…”

  He leaned close and pecked her on the cheek. “Gotta go, honey, I’m meeting Cluny at the gym.” He left her standing there, grabbed his gym bag and keys, and walked out the door.

  If it were humanly possible to be more embarrassed, Marla couldn’t imagine how. Caught with your hand in the cookie jar, took on new meaning. Anger at Dwayne flared in her chest. What a lout, what a dolt, what a Philistine! She slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a nervous giggle and stared at Edwin’s flabbergasted face.

  She took a deep breath. “Edwin. I, uh, wasn’t expecting you.”

  “That’s the best you can come up with, Marla?” The snap of anger in his words was out of character. He rarely displayed emotion, and it caught her off guard.

  “No, I…I mean. When did you get back in town? You’ve been gone for weeks. I…”

  “I got back yesterday. I left more than one message on your home phone and a text message on your cell.”

  She glanced at the phone on the hall table and immediately saw the flashing red light. “I…um…didn’t notice. Sorry.”

  “Obviously you were far too busy and distracted.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his perfectly pressed pants. “Am I allowed to ask who he is?”

  “Um, his name is Dwayne Dempsey. He’s John Dempsey’s son. You’ve met John.” She swallowed. This wasn’t going well. “Uh, Dwayne’s the contractor, Big D Construction? I hired him to renovate my apartment building.” Was she making any sense? She had to pee. She wasn’t sure what to do or say.

  Edwin sneered. “And were Big D’s after-hours activities part of the contract?” He took a step in her direction. “I find it hard to fathom your unfaithfulness. I’m very disappointed in you, Marla.”

  “Unfaithfulness? Wait, wait just a minute.” She put up her hands and shook herself. “Unfaithful to you? Is that what you mean? Edwin, you never even touch me. Other than a handshake or a brief kiss, what was there for me to be unfaithful to?”

  He pressed his lips together and slowly shook his head. A smirk of disgust filled his face. “I was merely following your lead. You’ve always been reserved, held yourself apart from me. It appears I’ve misread your true nature.”

  What could she say to that? It was true, all of it. She had held herself apart from him. He was dull, uptight, dignified, and devoid of sexual appeal. Why had she hung on to him for the past two years? It wasn’t his fault. The blame lay with her.

  “Edwin, I’m sorry. I haven’t meant to deliberately mislead you. You’re a fine man and have always behaved like a gentleman. I suppose we stayed together because of inertia. I don’t believe I ever thought our relationship would go beyond friendship. If you expec
ted more from me, I wasn’t aware of it.”

  He stood straight. “I’ll take my leave now. I feel I must warn you—that man, that laborer who just left here is beneath you. He’s unsuitable. You’re wasting yourself on him. I pray you’ll come to your senses.” He brushed past her on his way to the door.

  “No…he’s…”

  He pulled open the door and there stood Charlene with her key in her hand. Her eyes got big. “Oh, hello, Edwin. How nice to see you. Should I leave?”

  He sniffed. “Not on my account.” Then brushed past her and stalked across the lawn.

  Char eyed her. “Lordy, you’re one surprise after another, little sister. Anybody else in there I need to know about?”

  “Bite me, Charlene. Come in and watch me hang myself. After yesterday and today I’ve come to the conclusion that real life isn’t for me.”

  She retreated to the kitchen, poured herself a cup of Dwayne’s strong coffee, and plopped in a chair.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” Charlene said. She poured herself a cup of coffee, dumped three spoonsful of sugar in it then sat across from Marla and stirred. “Good morning to you too.”

  Marla smiled. “I did invite you for breakfast, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did. What are we having, besides drama pancakes and break-up sausages?”

  There were times, and this was one of them, when Marla realized how much she truly loved her flighty, carefree sister. The sister who’d flitted through life enjoying every minute of it, while she’d had her nose pressed to a self-inflicted grindstone. “I love you, Char.”

  “I know, me too…you I mean.” She took a sip of the coffee, grimaced, got up to add more sugar, and returned to the table. “Ugh. Dwayne made this? I won’t sleep for days.” She grinned. “So, what’s new?”

  Cluny acted as his spotter while he pumped iron. His pectorals trembled under the massive weight. He grunted, “Eight!”

  “You’re at the upper limit of what I can lift off you, Gunny.”