Her Own Best Enemy (The Remnants, Book 1) (29 page)

“I need to get in touch with Cam. The hospital should have a phone we can use.”

They walked to the drab brick building and pushed through the revolving door. Immediately it became apparent that this wasn’t a regular hospital. The bars on windows and doors suggested the place was more of a psychiatric institution.

Doctors and nurses scurried through the lobby along with uniformed security. Shouts of alarm echoed off the high ceilings. No one paid attention to her, Keith, or Ryker as they stepped up to the main desk.

“Excuse me?” Grace leaned on the desk to get the attention of the receptionist. She took Ryker’s hand and squeezed it gently.

The woman looked up from the notes she was scribbling on a pad of paper. “Sí?”

“I’m sorry, do you speak English?”

“Yes.” The woman’s reply was issued in a soft, heavily accented voice.

Grace grabbed a brochure from the plastic holder on the wall and studied the hospital’s address printed neatly at the bottom.

Nogales? Her heart stuttered. The border town was Mexico’s main port of entry.

Keith read the address over her shoulder. “Ma’am, we need to use your phone. It’s an emergency.”

The receptionist sighed. “You’ll have to get in line. We have our own emergency right now and our circuits are jammed with calls right now.”

Grace scanned the lobby. As a group of nurses ran past, one caught her eye. The woman’s black hair fell in disarray from her cap. The unique shade of her violet eyes stood out in her ashen and haggard face. She clutched what looked like a man’s jacket to her chest.

Her nametag peeped out from the corner of her uniform. Elizabeth. She slowed, separating from the group, and stared at Grace with far too much interest.

“What’s going on?”

The nurse jumped at Grace’s question. Her eyes widened and she shook her head, running to catch up with the others.

The squawk of a walkie-talkie bleated from the belt of a security officer. He yanked it free and spoke into it in rapid Spanish.

“What happened here?” Keith asked.

The receptionist hesitated. “We have a...Code Red.”

Grace frowned. “What does that mean?”

The woman bit her lip. “It means a patient’s escaped from the hospital.”

Keith stepped outside and was immediately blinded by the orange fireball that hung low in the sky. Beside him, Grace and Ryker squinted into the setting sun. They’d waited an hour to use the phone, and now Keith could finally hear the faint whir of a helicopter in the distance.

Keith shaded his eyes with his hand and scanned the open field. A brief smile twisted his lips as a dark helicopter came into view. It bee-lined for them and then hovered briefly in the air above their heads, sunlight glinting off the Army insignia stamped on the side.

“Mom, what’s going on?” Ryker asked.

Grace smiled and touched her son’s shoulder. “We’re going home.”

The chopper touched down on the grass, the noise of the rotating blades nearly swallowing her reply. The hatch slid to the side and Cam appeared in the opening. His bright blue geometric print shirt and Ray Ban sunglasses made an amusing contrast to the dull Army green of the helicopter.

He strode in their direction and Keith noticed his gait was more awkward than it had been several days ago.

“The Calvary has arrived,” Cam shouted over the noise.

Keith smirked. “Late. As usual.”

Cam spread his arms wide, his lips twisted into a cocky grin. “Better late than never, as my Mama always used to say.” He turned his full attention to Ryker. “Well. You must be Commander Ryker.”

“Yes, I’m Ryker. How did you know?”

“How did I know?” A brow arched above Cam’s sunglasses. “Everyone knows about you.”

Ryker tipped his head, surprise lighting his eyes and dropping his jaw. “They do?”

“Of course. Hey, you ever seen the inside of a helo before?”

Ryker shook his head.

“I bet our pilot wouldn’t mind showing you around. His name is Blueduck.”

“You mean it? Can I, Mom?”

Grace tipped her head. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

“The guys won’t mind.” He knelt and looked Ryker in the eye. “But first you gotta go see Doc PigPen and let him take a look at you.”

Grace ruffled Ryker’s hair. “Can I go with him?”

“Of course.” Cam squeezed Grace’s hand. “Don’t worry, Pigpen is the real deal. He looks a little...rough, but he knows what he’s doing. He has Ryker’s meds.”

Grace shot Cam a genuine smile that socked Keith in the throat. “I wasn’t worried,” Grace said.

Keith’s throat tightened.
She wasn’t worried.
Why could she trust Cam completely and still think the worst of him?

As soon as Ryker and Grace moved out of earshot, Cam’s smile disappeared. He reached up and removed the sunglasses from his face. His blue eyes turned serious, his mouth tightened with strain.

He glanced at Keith. “What’s the situation?”

“There’s a dead man back there. You’ll recognize the bastard as Captain Longenbow. He’s been smuggling illegal aliens, drugs, weapons, government secrets and God knows what else all from the comfort of his nice, cushy military desk. The missile components as well as their security codes were his latest, and I believe also his last, deal. I have no idea who currently has the components, but it’s clear that he planned to disappear after he’d tied up all his loose ends.”

Cam’s brow rose. “You kill him?”

“No. And now that’s he’s dead, I’ve lost my chance to get more out of him. Like the location of the missile components.”

He watched as Grace boosted Ryker into the chopper and then swung herself up into the bird. He didn’t regret his decision to go after Grace and Ryker instead of interrogating the bastard. It might mean an end to his career; his fate was in the hands of the judge advocate general now. “I had to make sure Grace and Ryker got out of that hell hole safely first.”

Cam locked him in an impassive stare. “Understood. But, at what cost to your career, Keith?”

He rolled his shoulders. “It was necessary. Let’s board the chopper and get the hell out of here.”

Cam cleared his throat. “Uh...before we board the helo, I have to tell you...” He dragged a lock of his shaggy brown hair off his forehead.

He grit his teeth. A muscle thumped in his cheek. “Cam. Just spit it out.”

“The thing is...I needed some back-up. A chopper. Some of the guys...” Cam squared his shoulders. “I...uh...had to turn you in.”

Keith huffed out a laugh. “You’re shittin’ me.”

“I’d never shit the King.” A hint of smile returned to the corner of Cam’s eyes. “The Army was more than willing to cooperate for a rescue mission, provided the MP’s were on hand to bring you in.”

Keith shrugged. “Not a problem. I planned to turn myself in. The XO needs to know what’s going on, and it’s past time I get back to base and deal with this court martial. I’m more than ready.” He clapped Cam on the shoulder as he passed. “Thanks, buddy.”

“Keith.”

Keith pivoted at Cam’s hesitant tone and arched a brow. “Is there more?”

Cam rubbed his jaw. “The XO is coming here, with your counsel to debrief you and Grace.”

“Even better,” Keith said as he headed toward the chopper.

“Uh...Keith?”

He stopped, crossed his arms. “What now?”

“Well...you know...I can drive a hard bargain of my own, so even though the MP’s are here now...I...I made a deal that they’d give you the rest of the day to...,” he shot a worried frown at the chopper, “You know...take care of some things.”

Keith brows drew into a thunderous expression. “What things?”

Cam waved the question aside. “I just think that you and Grace have some, um, unresolved issues—and maybe I’m way off base, but I think you like her.”

“So?”

“So, you should let her know. Get it all out in the open tonight.”

Keith tightened his jaw. “What, are you my therapist?”

Cam glanced at his t-shirt. “Do I look like Dr. Phil?” He shrugged. “I’m not saying you should take her to bed or anything, unless, of course, you’ve already—you haven’t, have you?” He waved his hand through the air. “Anyway, I’ve booked rooms for you, Grace and Ryker at The Pointe. After what you’ve all been through you have the right to stay in a five star hotel.”

No way. A luxurious hotel—even with Grace and him having separate rooms, and her son to chaperone—was not a good idea. They’d existed on only adrenaline for far too long. Coming down off that high was bound to make them do stupid things.

“That’s not necessary. Let’s just get this over with.”

“The debriefing will start early in the morning and it’ll probably take a while. You’ll stomach it better if you get some rest. Besides, both you and Grace need to be there. Together.”

“Yeah, I get it, Cam. Thanks.”

He stalked off to the chopper before Cam could impart any more of his useless Dr. Phil advice.

All we have left is the Presidential Suite.

The manager’s words rang in Keith’s ears as he fit the key into room 1012’s lock with all the enthusiasm of a Private assigned to clean the latrines. Apparently, the hotel somehow double booked their reservations and gave his and Grace’s nice separate rooms to someone else.

The door clicked open. Beside him, Grace tensed, one hand on Ryker’s shoulder, the other clutching a shopping back that Cam had given her.

Keith jerked on the handle and the door swung wide, revealing a large room done in gold and brown tones, two dark leather couches, a flat screen TV and a wet bar. He stepped inside and saw a set of doors on either side of the room leading to separate bedrooms.

Grace blew out a relieved breath, which brought a reluctant smile to his lips. The Presidential Suite was large enough to stay well out of Grace’s way.

She wasted no time in doing just that and moved to opposite sides of the room.

“Oh, look,” Grace set the shopping bag on the mahogany table and peered inside. “Cam gave us clothes and toiletries. How thoughtful.”

“Yeah, Cam’s a thoughtful guy all right.” He flicked on the lights above the wet bar and studied the contents of the cabinets.

“This place is cool!” Ryker raced past him and pounced on one of the leather couches, his glasses sliding past his nose. He pushed them back in place with a yawn.

“Cool or not, it’s time you got to bed.” Grace pulled a pair of Spongebob pajamas from the bags on the table and held them up to Ryker.

He came forward to grab them and Grace snatched him into her arms. She tickled his ribs. Her heart shone in her eyes as she reveled in having her son back safe and sound. Ryker shrieked, dodging her hands, and giggling so hard Keith doubted the boy could even squeak a word out if he wanted to.

She tossed the pajama bottoms lightly over Ryker’s head. “Go get dressed, goofy.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Ryker shuffled to the bathroom, the legs of the pajamas dangling down his back.

Keith’s stomach fisted. Envy burned in his gut. The guys in his A-team talked about their wives and children with such love and longing. Keith had always listened, but never understood.

He did now.

Ryker came out of the bathroom sporting his new pajamas and Grace steered him toward her bedroom. “Okay, Ry. It’s time for bed.”

Ryker yawned loudly. “But, I’m not sleepy.”

“Oh, no, not much. Come on, tiger, let’s go.”

Keith prepared to escape to his room, but Ryker’s next words rooted him to the spot.

“Would it be all right if Keith tucked me in tonight?”

“I...” Grace’s eyes sought Keith’s and held. The deep emerald of her eyes darkened further, telling him that Ryker’s request not only troubled her, but wounded her as well.

Keith couldn’t stand to see her looking at him like that, so he gave a casual shrugged and tried to decline. “Maybe some other—”

“No, that’s okay. Go ahead.” Her mouth curved into a stiff smile that annoyed him almost as much as the cool politeness in her voice.

She took Ryker’s request almost as a betrayal. Didn’t she see how much her son loved her? Keith knew he was just a fleeting obsession, a little hero worship on Ryker’s part. The boy would get over it.

But to deny the request would make Keith sound like a selfish bastard.

He gave her a tight smile of his own. “Sure. I’m happy to get him settled.”

She nodded without hesitation, but her trembling lips gave her misgivings away. “Okay. Give me a kiss first, baby.”

Ryker launched himself into her arms and planted a noisy kiss on her cheek. “I love you, Mom.”

“Love you too, sweetie. Sleep tight.”

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” Ryker sing-songed.

“I’ll check on you later, okay?”

“Okay. G’night.”

Ryker placed his small hand in Keith’s much larger one. Keith stared at their joined hands a ball of emotion clogging his throat over Ryker’s easy trust. Keith followed Ryker into Grace’s bedroom, more nervous now than he’d ever been during any dangerous op. Ryker jumped onto the bed and shoved his pajama-clad legs beneath the blankets. He smiled up at Keith and patted the comforter.