“There no other way,” Rivera assured him.
“He’s not going to be happy the leak took place right under his nose,” Jonah realized.
“No, he isn’t.”
“Where’d you put the original?”
“It’s locked in my desk at the office.”
“Okay.” Jonah blew out a breath. “Keep me posted on your meeting.”
“I’ll call as soon as it’s over,” Master Chief promised. “How’s Miriam?”
Jonah looked back at the bed where Miriam had sat up and was now regarding him with an almost worshipful expression. “My daughter is awake and looking lovely,” he answered.
Miriam’s gaze dropped. He watched with satisfaction as her little smile appeared.
“Thanks for everything, Master Chief,” he added, hoping his words conveyed the depths of his gratitude. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“No hay de que. It’s nothing. I wanted to be there at the station when you talk to the police, but that’s the only time Dwyer can meet with me.”
“That’s okay,” Jonah assured him. “We’ll be all right. Keep me up to speed on Dwyer’s response.”
“Yes, sir.”
Pushing his cell phone into his pocket, Jonah looked back at his family.
“You guys mind if I live with you again? My teammates are going to protect us.” He had total faith in their ability to do so.
“I don’t mind.” Miriam said without a second’s hesitation.
Eden’s eyes glowed with warmth. “We would love that,” she said, sharing a special look with her daughter.
Two hours later, Jonah swung into his driveway to find Saul and Lucas up on his deck with their shirts off, hard at work.
“Now that is some serious eye candy,” Miriam commented from the back seat.
“Miriam!” Eden scolded, trying not to sound amused. “Are they staining the deck?” she asked, peering up at them more closely.
Jonah grinned. “Looks like it.” It had bugged him like crazy that he hadn’t yet finished the project he’d started.
As he and his family exited the Jaguar, memories of the prior night’s terror faded. It felt so good to be home again. The sky was a robin’s-egg blue, the breeze cool enough to keep a body from sweating, even if laboring under the bright sun. They mounted the stairs to greet their personal bodyguards.
“Howdy.” Saul saluted them with a wet roller. His long, mahogany hair was caught up in a braid, making him look like the Creek grandfather who’d taught him his tracking abilities. “Hope this is the same stain you started with.” He indicated the four-gallon drum sitting open next to the rolling tray.
“It is,” Jonah assured him, greeting Lucas who’d taped his roller to a long handle so he wouldn’t have to bend over. “You guys don’t have to do this, you know.”
“Oh, yes we do,” Saul replied. His tattooed, muscular arm flexed as he rolled stain on the railing. “You promised us a Labor Day party, and tomorrow is Labor Day,” he pointed out.
Jonah looked over at Eden to gauge her response. “You still okay with hosting a party?”
“Fine with me,” she assured him, but her eyes conveyed their shared concern that last night’s misadventure would have unforeseen consequences.
Miriam hooted with enthusiasm. “Awesome! I get to decorate. We need to get out the tiki torches and buy some balloons.”
Eden nodded. “We can do that, after our trip to the police station.”
Her anxiety wasn’t lost on Jonah, who prayed their plan for a party would come to fruition.
“Let me go change so I can help these guys.” He started for the door.
“I want to help, too,” Miriam piped up.
“You should rest,” Eden told her as she unlocked it for them.
“Where’s Sabrina?” Jonah was struck by the unusual quiet.
“Nina picked her up last night. I didn’t know how long we’d be at the hospital.”
“Nina has a key and I still don’t?” he asked with exaggerated frustration.
Eden indicated the key still in her hand. “We’re making you a copy today,” she promised.
Jonah rewarded her answer with a quick kiss. “You know once you give me a key to this place, I’m never going to leave.”
Looking deep into his eyes, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him right back in front of her daughter and Jonah’s men.
“I’m counting on that,” she retorted.
Jonah’s heart sang. In spite of the threat still hanging over his head, he had never been happier.
Following Commander Dwyer from his front door to his kitchen, Santiago couldn’t help but contrast the CO’s suburban home to his own little seaside cottage. For one thing, the CO’s house of whitewashed brick was located in a gated community and backed up to a golf course. The man often joked that his love of golf had cost him his marriage, but he didn’t seem to be hurting financially.
Given the tasteful decor he glimpsed in the living and dining rooms, the absence of a wife was not at all apparent the way it was in Santiago’s house. If there was a woman in the CO’s life, though, he’d certainly never made mention of her.
Dwyer led him into his kitchen, a gourmand’s paradise with a six-burner gas stove, glossy granite counters, and tall, white cabinets.
“Can I get you a drink? I have a bottle of Don Q rum I’m dying to open.”
The question surprised Santiago. At work, Dwyer was the consummate professional, detail-oriented and exacting. Maybe on weekends, he finally relaxed. Given his lime green shirt and white slacks, he’d probably played eighteen holes while Santiago had been in church. It was good to know the hard-nosed CO occasionally let his hair down.
“No, thank you sir. Water would be great.”
“You got it. Have a seat.”
Dwyer waved at the oak dinette table, and Santiago sat where he could see the ninth tee. Filling two glasses with iced water from the state-of-the-art refrigerator, Dwyer laid Santiago’s drink in front of him, then sat across from him with a drawn-out sigh.
“Soon,” he said, “I’ll be living like this every day.”
Santiago smiled. “I’m happy to see you looking so relaxed.” It was a shame the news he brought would ruin the CO’s weekend, if not his plans for retirement.
“Can’t wait to leave the office behind forever,” Dwyer agreed with gusto.
“What will you do with yourself, sir?” Santiago put off his difficult news a moment longer.
The CO’s overly dark moustache twitched. “I’m thinking of volunteering more, like in a community service organization.”
An admirable idea, Santiago thought. Too bad he had to bring his CO such stressful news. He looked down at the envelope under his hand.
“Whatcha got there?” Dwyer asked, his pale gray eyes bright with curiosity.
Santiago had asked himself how to broach the entire topic and had decided to start at the beginning.
“Sir, these are copies of certain entries in Blake LeMere’s diary.”
Dwyer put his glass down suddenly. “LeMere! I was thinking about him just the other day.”
“His death was tragic,” Santiago added. “I know it was deemed an accident, but the final entries in his diary suggest otherwise.”
The CO blinked, then frowned. “May I read them?”
“Of course.” Opening the envelope, Santiago slid out the copies and passed them to the CO.
As Dwyer waded through LeMere’s often cryptic handwriting, Santiago watched the emotions cross his face—first confusion, then suspicion, then outrage. At last, he lifted an incredulous gaze to him.
“My lord,” he said in a hoarse voice.
“That’s not all, sir.” With apology in his tone, Santiago went on to explain how Jaguar now remembered reading LeMere’s journal before his captivity. “He thinks he must have confronted Lieutenant Commander Lowery right before the op that resulted in his captivity.”
“Why didn’t he come to me first?” Dw
yer blustered.
“Perhaps he was hoping Lowery could offer him a reasonable explanation?”
“And did he?”
“Jaguar doesn’t remember, sir. But he believes Lowery is the one leaking intel to The Entity. What’s more, he believes Lowery turned on him that night in Carenero. That he left him for dead—just as he may also have contributed to LeMere’s death.”
Silence seemed to echo in the CO’s vast kitchen. All Santiago could hear was the ticking of a clock in one of the front rooms. Visibly stunned, Dwyer lifted a hand to his cheek, then looked down at the copies as one might regard something disgusting.
“This is unbelievable,” he murmured.
“I wish that was all there was to it,” Santiago added apologetically.
The CO dropped his hand and visibly braced himself. “What else?”
In as precise a manner as he could, and emphasizing everything he himself had seen and heard, Santiago relayed what had happened at Back Bay Wildlife Refuge the previous evening.
“Jaguar is certain, sir, Lowery was the second shooter. He is testifying as much to the police.”
Dwyer had blanched beneath his golfer’s tan. Santiago could tell what he was thinking—that SOCOM would hold him responsible for his XO’s actions, possibly to the point of denying him retirement.
“All I want to do is to retire in peace,” he muttered, confirming Santiago’s suspicions. It was clear then that the CO thought about himself first and foremost.
“I’m sorry, sir. I know this couldn’t be happening at a worse time.”
Dwyer shrugged off his self-centered thoughts. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I can roll with whatever is dished out—you know that. But I can tell you this, Lowery’s got some serious reckoning coming to him,” he promised.
Santiago nodded his relief. “Thank you, sir. Jaguar shouldn’t have to be worried for his life after everything he’s been through already.”
“No, he should not,” the CO agreed. “I’ll reassure him in person. You think he’d be up to a talk with me tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Santiago replied. “He’d be delighted.”
Dwyer sent him a piercing look. “How’s he doing otherwise? Are his memories coming back? Do you think he can ever be an active-duty SEAL again?”
Santiago brightened. “In my estimation, sir, I think him fully capable of returning to the Team.”
“But what about his memory?”
Santiago grimaced. “You’ll have to talk to his doctors about that, sir. All I know is he’s forgotten nothing in regard to his training. He is every bit as capable as he was before his disappearance. If anything, his year in captivity has made him mentally stronger. He can easily rebuild his physical strength.”
Looking encouraged, Dywer stroked his chin. His pale eyes narrowed.
“Do you think he would consider taking Lowery’s place and becoming my executive officer?”
Santiago’s eyes widened at the prospect. “I’m sure he would, sir!”
Dwyer thumped a hand on the table. “That settles it. I’ll call him and arrange a meeting at my earliest convenience.”
“Thank you, sir!”
Following his CO’s example by coming to his feet, Santiago realized their meeting was over. Leaving the copies of LeMere’s entries on the table, he followed the commander out of the kitchen and through the house to the front door.
Dwyer pulled it open for him. “Have yourself a wonderful holiday weekend, Master Chief.”
“Thank you, sir. You do the same.” With a spring in his step and eager to share the outcome of his meeting with Jaguar, Santiago hurried across the pristine lawn to his car, parked at the curb.
At two in the afternoon, Eden pointed the Jaguar in the direction of Station 17, located right there in Sandbridge. A satellite office for the Virginia Beach Police was appended to the fire station, sparing them a drive into the city.
Jonah sat in the back seat with Miriam, leaving shotgun for Lucas, who needed the legroom. Saul had stayed at their house, pledging to keep an eye out for Lowery.
An electronic chime sounded as Jonah held the door open for them. With Lucas posting watch outside, Eden, Miriam, and Jonah stepped into an empty waiting room. The window to the receptionist’s office stood open, but there was no receptionist to greet them.
“Be right there!” yelled a gruff voice from the back room.
Eden drew a nervous breath and watched Jonah tuck in his shirt so that the weapon he carried on his hip was blatantly apparent. Searching his face, she read worry banked behind his carefully neutral expression. Even though he’d acted in self-defense the night before, he had to be concerned that he’d killed an officer of the law. She was just about to suggest they say a prayer when the door to the back swung open, and a lanky man with a receding hairline and kind eyes swept a keen gaze over them.
“You must be Jonah, Eden, and Miriam Mills. I’m Chief Dudley. Come on back.”
Leading them into a miniscule office, he gestured to the chairs opposite his desk and lowered himself into the chair behind it. In spite of its size, the office had a homey feel. Photos of children and a pretty wife were displayed on his desk, reassuring Eden.
Dudley roused the laptop in front of him, perused whatever he was looking at, and shook his head.
“I’ve read the police report, and I have to say, I’m baffled. I don’t suppose anyone’s told you yet that Officer Hammond’s body washed up on the beach at Dam Neck this morning.”
Eden’s cheeks turned cold. She divided a startled look between Miriam and Jonah, both of whom guarded their reaction better than she.
“I should have an autopsy report within the hour. How about you give me your version of the story so I can make heads or tails out of this?” Dudley requested, sitting back in his seat.
For the next half-hour, Miriam, Jonah, and Eden took turns explaining how they’d all ended up at Back Bay.
“I can’t explain at this juncture what Lowery’s motive might be for wanting me dead,” Jonah finished apologetically. “It’s strictly a military matter.”
Dudley’s deep-set eyes gleamed with curiosity.
“But I can say I never meant to kill anyone. Officer Hammond was determined to take me out. He had the advantage of strength and size, and he was obviously trained in hand-to-hand combat.”
Dudley nodded. “He’s a former SEAL—he was,” he amended. “That explains why he and Lowery knew each other,” he added to himself. “You can rest assured we’ll be bringing James Lowery in for questioning. If he hasn’t got an alibi and the shell casings found at the scene match any weapon he might own, I’ll be placing him under arrest.”
Jonah nodded, murmuring his thanks.
The police chief looked back at Miriam. “You’re quite a brave young lady. No negative effects of the gas used to incapacitate you?”
Miriam shook her head. “I feel fine,” she said with a shrug.
“About that.” Jonah searched Dudley’s face. “How did Hammond get his hands on Agent 15? It’s classified as a chemical warfare agent.”
Dudley frowned back at him. “That’s an excellent question, Mr. Mills—Lieutenant,” he corrected. “I’ll look into it.” Just then, his desk phone gave a shrill ring. “Excuse me. This would be the autopsy report. Go ahead,” he said, taking the call.
As the person on the other end spoke, Dudley’s gaze darted toward Jonah.
“I see,” he said.
Eden scarcely breathed as he thanked the caller and put the receiver down. He looked them both in the eye.
“Good news,” he said, freeing Eden to breathe again. “The coroner says Hammond died from drowning, not from blood loss, though he did have a bullet in his thigh. Considering he was off duty and that he drugged a minor and basically kidnapped her, I can’t see any cause for pressing any charges. You are all free to go.”
Tears of relief sprang to Eden’s eyes. Jonah hung his head for a moment and closed his eyes—his first display of emot
ion since their arrival. Miriam blew out a huge sigh of relief, causing Eden and Dudley both to laugh.
An abiding sense of peace, the likes of which Jonah hadn’t felt in months, maybe in years, relaxed every muscle of his body. He lay on the quilted mattress in his and Eden’s bedroom, with his wife snuggled up against him. Pulling her naked body closer, he kissed her forehead.
“It’s like our wedding night all over again,” he commented.
She stilled the hand that was stroking his shoulder. “Do you remember it?”
“No,” he admitted, “but I can imagine it was pretty amazing.”
“No better than tonight,” she assured him.
Theo and Bambino, their body guards for the night, were taking turns standing watch on the deck and sleeping in the study.
Jonah pondered the contentment in his heart.
“Something tells me everything’s going to work out for us,” he said, amazed by the certainty that now girded him. “The CO has promised to hold Lowery accountable, and I might even get his job as the executive officer.”
Master Chief had shared the good news with Jonah earlier that afternoon. Soon afterward, the CO himself had called and asked Jonah to meet him the next morning at Oceana Naval Air Base at the skeet and trap range. He’d been planning to do some shooting and figured he could talk to Jonah at the same time.
Imaging the CO welcoming him back to Blue Squadron, it took Jonah a moment to realize Eden had fallen silent. Pulling his head back, he studied her pensive expression.
“That has to scare you,” he guessed, “the thought of me going back to work.”
She smiled crookedly. “It scares me a little,” she admitted. “But you were born to be a SEAL, Jonah. I’m not going to get in the way of your destiny.”
“Spoken like a martyr,” he teased with a smile.
She did not return it.
He sought to reassure her. “I am never going to forget that I’m a husband first, Eden. Then a father,” he added, “then an operative.”
Returning to Eden (Acts of Valor, Book 1): Christian Military Romantic Suspense Page 30