A Long Goodbye (2 page)

CHAPTER 2

DANE

I’d been back from my tour for almost six months. The nightmares hadn’t stopped, no matter how much liquor I drank before bed. It was different this time. It was my third tour, each one lasting about ten months. My Army brothers and I would go in, do what we did best; day in and day out, and always came home together. Unfortunately, my best friend, one I went to basic with, lived with, and loved like a real brother, hadn’t made it back this time.

It wrecked me to come home without him. To have to speak to his family, to bear the news of how their son died. But, I insisted on being the one to tell her. I spoke to his mother and then his fiancé over the phone from Germany about his unwavering courage and cast iron will to the end. Each word gutted me, knowing that he died protecting the guys and me. He died in my arms. All the training we’d received, and I still couldn’t save my best friend.

 My tour had four months remaining when it all went down, and I’d wanted to complete it, not give in, but I’d made a promise on the hot, war-torn street that fateful day. That day would haunt me forever.

Every night, I could hear him in my sleep, screaming for me to take cover. Instead, I forged ahead, willing to risk death in order to be by his side. Once I made it to him, he murmured that I was a bastard for coming after him, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Looking at him lying there helpless, I wanted to die alongside him. He was my best friend and one of the greatest men I’d ever known. Hell, I would probably never meet another one like him. And I didn’t know how I was going to go home without him by my side, cracking jokes like he always did to ease the tension.

“Promise me, Woody,” he mumbled, his voice strained. I gripped his hand tight in mine. “Promise me you’ll go home and never come back to this hell hole.” I shook my head to say no, but how could I not grant his one last request? His glassy, almost lifeless eyes stared into mine. “Woody, promise me.” He was breathing hard, blood dripping from his fatigues and the sides of his mouth.

“I promise, AJ, I promise. I need you to hold on for a few more minutes until a medic can get in. Can you do that for me?” His hand started to wilt in mine, and I knew I only had a few seconds to tell him. “I love you, man,” I cried out. AJ smiled, but barely, and then he was gone. After that, I didn’t remember anything else.

The next time I woke up, I was strapped down in a small aid station in Bagram waiting to be Medevac’d to a hospital in Germany. It turned out that I wasn’t so lucky after all, but AJ got his wish, at least, for a short time. Turns out an IED had been close by and someone had triggered it just as I was saying good-bye to AJ. When I woke up, the doctor told me that I’d been shot twice in the leg, had taken shrapnel to various parts of my body, and had suffered a few broken bones. It could have been a hell of a lot worse. I was one of the lucky ones. My family begged me to come home and get out, but I couldn’t. I had a job to do, and my Dad didn’t raise me to be a quitter.

Thinking back, my Dad really prepared me for being a soldier, the man I am today. My father led with his heart and made sure his sons did too. By the early age of eight, I had already learned how to fish, hunt, chop wood, swim, run the tractors, and tend to the horses alongside my brothers. My father preferred us working the farm versus hiring strangers, not to mention it taught us something a lot of kids didn’t learn. We learned early on how to put in an honest day’s work. And not one of us ever minded. In fact, those times made me the man I am today.

By age ten, I could shoot with the hand-me-down rifle from my brother straighter than my dad could. I was pretty sure any one of us could survive on our own if need be. I knew early on that I wanted to enter a branch of the military. I didn’t care which one when I was younger. Maybe it was the sight of Old Glory waving in the wind from the front porch, or maybe, I just wanted to do something important with my life. I never wanted the easy path. I wanted to work hard and make my family proud of me.

Two months later, when the docs finally had me patched back up, I immediately requested to finish my tour with my platoon. I came here with them, and I was going home with them. So that’s what I did. I finished up and the rest of my tour and then went home for some much deserved R and R. I didn’t re-enlist after my time was up; I went to work for my big brother and his somewhat small, successful, private securities company. Jason was an ex-cop. He thought he’d go into the police force and help save the world, or at least our little town.

He didn’t have it him to stay with the force. He went on and on about how dishonest the people that he worked with had been. How it seemed that everyone had a hand dipped in someone else’s pocket, or had some sort of political agenda. Sometimes he’d say, “You can’t play the straight and narrow when everyone around you is running in circles.” So, he left and went out on his own to keep his integrity intact.

My brother Jason’s number flashed on my cell for the fifteenth time today, and interrupted my thoughts. I was holed up at one of my favorite fishing holes, drowning away my sorrows with a few fish and a bottle of SoCo.

Unfortunately, my spot wasn’t so special anymore, seeing as how other people were fishing here too. Back in the day when my dad would take me, we’d sit for hours upon hours shooting the shit until he felt confident in the haul we were bringing home to mama. It wasn’t like that anymore. It hadn’t been for a long time.

The one thing I enjoyed was fishing alone. Unfortunately, this one guy sidled up on his half-broken Coleman chair next to me. He didn’t grasp the fact that I wanted to be alone and started yapping his gums about a half hour ago. And, of course, he was a bartender fishing on his day off. I made the mistake of telling him that I just got home from duty six months before, and he’d become a painful reminder of why I kept it to myself. I got it. It was your job to keep patrons entertained, talking the depression out of everyone that needed talking to, but it wasn’t for me. I didn’t talk then, and I wasn’t talking now. In fact, I hated talking about my time overseas. Period.

Unhappily, I answered. “What’s up?”

“Where the hell are you? I’ve been calling you all day.”

“Busy. What do you need Jay?”

“I gotta job I need help with. A favor I owe. He wants someone skilled at tracking without being seen. I don’t have time for this one. Can you help a brother out? It pays well.”

I blew out an exasperated breath, contemplating his offer for a measly second. I needed the money, and he knew it. “What kind of job are we talkin’ here?”

“A princess stakeout, man. His daughter wants to let loose, and Daddy doesn’t want her to.”

“Fuck, man. C’mon, I don’t want to deal with shit like that right now. Give me something easier,” I said, hoping he’d give me some cheating-ass husband whose feathers I could ruffle up for being a dirt ball, versus a real man.

“D, man, this is fucking easy, and you already know who it is. At least you met her a couple years back. It’s Ashton Winslow and her friend, LuLuBelle Trainor.”

Fuck!

“What’s at stake?”

“Nothing. Just a hell of a lot of money to make sure they get home in one piece, and untouched. If you know what I mean.”

Shit! The last thing I wanted was to be in on this job, but staying busy was better than keeping company with Southern Comfort and Jack Daniels.

“All right. I’m in.”

I could hear him sigh in relief through the phone. “Old Man Winslow will be expecting you tomorrow morning. The girls are heading out on Saturday. It’s a two-week job with all expenses paid. He’ll meet you in the back of his barn at eight a.m. Make yourself invisible.”

I didn’t answer, just took it all in as I stared into my half-empty bottle. Shit! Guess there goes the big fishing trip I had planned for the weekend.

“Dane, you there?”

“I’ll be there. Call you when I’m finished.”

That’s just what I needed right now, a fucking babysitting job to the top bitch of South Carolina. Jason was right; it had been years since I met the exclusive Ashton Winslow. She was beautiful, even back then; I’d give her that. I still remembered her as if I had a Kodak picture burned in my mind. She’d flicked her hair over her shoulder and turned her nose up at our introduction, as if she were too good for us, and she’d only been about fourteen at the time. She must be at least in her early twenties by now, and I felt sure, still all high and mighty too. Now, LuLuBelle, she was another story. I never could quite figure out the two of them being together so much. LuLu had a wild reputation around these parts for being ‘extra friendly’ to the entire male population of Charleston.

Everyone round these parts knew that she used Ashton’s daddy to keep herself from entering sin city without everyone knowing her business, since Mr. Winslow was a State Congressman. Ashton was Lu’s personal get out of county jail free card whenever she got in trouble.  Those two were inseparable, although, for an outsider looking in, they went together about as well as oil and water, even back as kids. Part of me was getting a little excited to see what had become of that famous duo. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

~~~

I hadn’t been to this house in forever. Or, at least it seemed that way. The last time I was here, it was for a big ol’ southern barbeque. My folks and we kids were invited to rub elbows with the finer people of Charleston as a payback for some job my father did for Mr. Winslow. My mother had it in her mind that we’d enjoy ourselves. The only things I enjoyed were the food and the unending supply of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

I could tell Old Man Winslow didn’t actually enjoy us Woods boys being there, but he enjoyed my mother’s presence. That much was obvious. Apparently, they had some quickie romance back in high school that he’d still remind her about whenever she was in earshot. Dad didn’t like it much, but he put up with it for some reason. That always bothered me since we were always taught not to take shit from anybody. That very reason had been buried along with Dad for almost two years now, when his body couldn’t fight the cancer growing inside his belly.

With my pickup parked on the street, I made my way down the long, mossy, tree-lined road that led to the barn. I’d had explicit instructions to make my presence unknown to anyone on the premises other than old Bill Winslow. I quickly scanned the perimeter of the property before dodging behind a few trees as I made my way to the rear of the old mansion. There were rumors around town that the Winslow house dated back as far as the civil war and had soldiers buried throughout the property, and looking at it now, those rumors were probably true. It was in pristine shape on the outside with towering white pillars lining the front porch, and was bigger than my mama’s whole place. It even had a big, old, wooden two-seater swing. Something about it always screamed out old and historical even with the fresh coat of white paint that he had put on every five years. It was a true southern plantation.

The strong smell of manure and hay hit my nose as the barn came in view. A neigh here and there sounded as well, and brought a rare smile to my face. Stuffing my hands in my Levi’s, I pressed forward, hoping this job was going to be as easy and as painless as Jason promised. If anything, it’d get my mind off of not being back in there fighting for Uncle Sam and AJ.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Dane Woods in the flesh.” Old Man Winslow stopped in front of me with a huge grin on his face and a pipe dangling from his yellowed teeth. “Glad to have you back safe and sound, Son. How is everything with you these days?”

I flinched when his eyes grazed over my face staring for one second too long at my scar. “I’m fine, Sir. Would like to be back with my troop, but I made a promise to my mama and best friend. So, here I am.” I moved to the side to pet one of the horses that had shown some interest in me. “I hear you have a job for me, Sir.”

He patted my back, but left his hand there, squeezing my shoulder. “How’s that mother of yours? I haven’t seen in her a while.”

“She’s doing well, Sir.”

“Catherine must be tickled pink that you’re home in one piece. She always hated when one of you boy’s got out of earshot, let alone off to fight a war.”

I turned. “She is, Sir. If we could move on from the pleasantries on to why I’m here, I’d appreciate it.”

He took a long pull at his pipe. “Still a straight shooter I see. Always liked that about you.” He opened the stall, handed me a brush, and then pulled the chestnut horse out. He attached her bridle to the two silver tie rings hooked into the walls, racked her up, and then nodded for me to brush her down. I did. It’d been a long time since I took care of an animal of this magnitude. My folks got rid of all of our horses years ago when it started getting too costly to keep them.

“I don’t have to tell you how important my baby girl is to me, do I, Son?”

“No, Sir.”

He sighed deeply as if something troubled him. “She wants to have some fun. I’m going to be sure that she gets it just this once. You see, Boy, I have a plan all lined up for my baby girl, whether she likes it or not. I figure it’s best to let her get whatever the hell it is out of her system now. I reckon she wants to sow those wild young oats of hers.” He paused to eyeball me. “Just as long as they’re not too wild.” Slowly he walked around and stood in front of me. “That’s where you come in. I’ve booked two rooms. You’ll be staying right next to her and Lulu. You’ll have to be careful. You’re brother assures me this is where you’re at your best. Discreet.”

I placed the brush down on the wooden ledge behind me. “I try, Sir.”

“Ashton is not to know about this, Son. If she comes home unaware of our little arrangement, I’ll have a real nice bonus waiting for you. If she finds out? Well, let’s just say I won’t be using your brother’s services again, nor will anyone else in this county. You three boys will lose everything. Do you hear what I’m saying, Boy?”

“Loud and clear, Sir.” I heard him. I just didn’t understand what the hell he was talking about.

“Good. I have a car for you to use as well.” He handed over a manila folder stuffed with pictures and papers. I rifled through, quickly noticing several pictures of Ashton with some guy I sort of recognized. “No thanks, Sir. I’d like to use my truck. It’s outfitted for the assignment already.” I glanced through a few pictures, stopping on one specifically. “Who’s this?”