Out of the Storm (11 page)

But whatever the cause of this sudden and newfound state of mind, part of him wanted to stay in the sad, lonely isolation he’d grown to embrace. Self-pity fed on itself. It clung like a parasite, reluctant to abandon its host.

Louise, Ashley, and Kylie returned, full of conversation.

“Kylie needs a bath, if that’s okay?” Ashley asked.

Eric nodded. “Of course. You live here now. Kylie knows where everything is.”

“Oh. I left some things in the bathroom upstairs for you two.” Louise called out. “Shampoo, toothbrush, a couple of other things. We can go shopping tomorrow after my shift if you need to exchange anything. Maybe we can pick you up some more clothes.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I mean Lu.” Ashley smiled. “You’ve been wonderful.”

“Now, I need to get home. I’ve got an early shift and I have to get to bed,” Louise crossed the room. When she reached the girls, she gave each a hug. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” she promised. She winked at Kylie and kissed her cheek.

Eric rose and walked his mother-in-law to the door as Ashley and Kylie laughed, heading up the stairs to the second floor bathroom. “See you tomorrow.” He shook his head in gratitude. “I could not have made it through this without you.”

She nodded, hugging him, then turned as she opened the door. “What are you going to do?”

He looked at her. “Do?”

“You know what I mean, Ricky. About them, your brother, this whole situation?”

Eric exhaled. “Take care of them. Give ’em a place to live. Until I find out what’s going on or they can get by on their own. I didn’t ask for this but—” He found her eyes. “About Ralph. I’m not sure. It’s still a work in progress. Has been since we were kids.”

Louise shot him a hard look. “I’ve never known you to sit back and let the world pass you by. Was that what all those calls were about?”

He shrugged again. “I don’t know any more than you do. Right now, this is a game I’ve gotta play fast, loose, and alone. When I figure it out, you’ll be first on the list.”

She studied him. “Good. You may not understand this. I’m not sure I do.” She shook her head slowly. “It’s hard to see someone else in my daughter’s home. And you know I’m no mystic. Never been into fate, the cosmos, or karma but—” She touched his cheek gently. “In a way I can’t explain, I think Ashley and Kylie are here for a reason.”

“Yeah. Ashley told me they came here to…”

“No.” Louise stopped him, holding her hand up. “I don’t mean that kind of reason. I mean something bigger.”

“Like a conspiracy?”

“No.” She laughed softly. “I think they’re here for a higher purpose.” She fixed his eyes with hers and arched her eyebrows. “To help you live again, Eric.”

While Ashley helped Kylie with her bath, Eric went into the living room and turned on the Red Sox as he replayed Lu’s words.

A higher purpose
. To help him live again. Eric shook his head. Sure. He believed. Or he had. After seeing innocent ten-year-old street kids split in two by a Kalashnikov, even after three of his team were so badly scattered by an IED there wasn’t enough left to bury. Eric stopped believing the night the woman he worshipped and their baby lay broken and dying by the side of the road.

Chapter Thirteen

“Please tell me
something
I want to hear, Major.” The Director sat behind the massive desk speaking quietly to the man facing him. His tone had the authoritative ring of command.

The major—a veteran Marine officer—stared back, hands grasping the arms of the antique chair positioned strategically in front of the desk. The Director led a super-secret cell. He had crafted its covert operation delicately, with the precision and loving care of a finely honed work of art. But his exquisite design was in jeopardy. Not from the FBI, NSA, CIA, or another high-level intelligence group. The person who possessed the knowledge to destroy seven years of his work was a young woman—a girl. Who could have guessed she was a world-class hacker? Someone with skills sufficient to breach their network and download highly guarded secrets. No small feat. The Director was impressed.

The major watched him cautiously as the Director tented his manicured fingertips thoughtfully. A scornful smile crept across the man’s face as he studied the officer facing him. No one who had seen the Director in this special, secretive role had ever lived to tell the tale. Did the major suspect that?

“The operatives who failed to capture her in Norfolk have been dealt with. I saw to it personally,” he informed the man.

The Marine nodded compliantly. The room stood quiet for a long minute, a brooding silence interrupted by the perfect rhythm of the priceless grandfather clock that stood next to the door.

“You let this happen?” He addressed the major casually, his words devoid of emotion. Like the operatives who failed him in Norfolk this officer had come highly recommended. His résumé assured that mistakes in judgment never happened. It was the second time the Director had been misinformed. There would not be a third.

“I have no idea how she got away, sir.” The major shook his head in deference, still wearing the guarded look as the Director held his eyes.

“I’ll tell you,” the leader said evenly. “You were arrogant, made clumsy attempts to impress this young woman. Wanted to show what a clever and powerful man you were.”

The Director studied the vaulted ceiling. “You befriended the petty officer—the one she lived with—having never vetted the young woman properly to determine whether she represented a threat to our mission.” When he finished his eyes rested on the major’s. “A long litany of inappropriate actions. In short, you failed us…failed me a second time.”

The officer sat motionless as the man behind the desk stood. A trace of perspiration glistened at the major’s closely-cropped hairline. “But, sir. At best she found pictures of our targets. With nothing more than that there’s no way she could come to any conclusions about our plans. And it wasn’t my oversight that allowed the pictures to remain in the encrypted file she hacked into.”

“Yes, Major. I suppose one could argue that point.” the Director nodded and showed a neutral smile as he proceeded around the oak desk. The Marine had ten years, twenty pounds, and two inches on his accuser. Yet despite the smaller man’s apparent agreement, the Marine wore the look of prey not predator. He had good reason.

“We tried, sir,” the major continued. “Made it clear to the girl and the petty officer. Arranged
accidents
to frighten them and force her to tell us what she may have found, to surrender the data. That should have been enough. The girl had more backbone and brains than we anticipated.”

“On the other hand, Major, you had far less of both.” The Director rubbed his forehead in frustration as he studied his quarry. “And now, you have no idea where they’ve gone?”

“No. Not…not yet,” the major stammered. After long years of arduous combat duty, fear should be no stranger. But raw, physical courage, the ability to run blindly into an oncoming hail of enemy bullets, was different from mental toughness. And the latter was what this task demanded. “We have men searching, sir.” The officer shook his head. “But it’s almost impossible. She has no family except her daughter. The chief she lived with has gone missing, too. I have no idea how they escaped or where they’ve gone…but I will, sir. Give me a few…”

“Enough!” The Director held up a hand, crossed the room slowly and looked down at the major as he reached casually into his pocket, retrieving something with his right hand. In a quick motion the syringe was in the major’s thick, muscled neck. He gasped and fell forward, the Director watching as his body hit the thick carpet.

“That’s all right, Major.” The words were even, without emotion as the major lay dead. “The penalty for treason is hanging. I simply eliminated the middle man.”

Chapter Fourteen

Kylie slept peacefully in the small upstairs bedroom. The first two nights she’d slept in the small bedroom at the end of the hallway off the kitchen. But Eric’s sixth sense, an intuition honed by years of combat experience, told him she should sleep upstairs. He wanted to believe that no one was following the girls or meant them harm. But after what Lip and Buzz has discovered and listening to Ashley’s vague innuendos about what Ralph might be involved in it eased Eric’s mind to know that Kylie’s bedroom was at the far end of the upstairs hall.

She’d given Eric a kiss on the cheek and a giant bear hug before running off to bed. After only a few days Eric doted on Kylie. As he watched her bounce down the hallway, her tiny hand squeezing Ashley’s, Eric marveled again at how happy and well-adjusted she seemed. He found himself reluctantly arriving at the only explanation that made sense. The one he’d stubbornly resisted. Life at Ralph’s must have been the pleasant experience the girls described…at least until the crisis that precipitated their hasty departure.

Ashley returned, sitting on the couch and staring out the window as she fidgeted, trying to get her thick hair to behave. Eric lounged in the recliner Elaine had given him on their last Christmas together. The Red Sox glowed in flawless high-definition on Eric’s forty-two-inch Fujitsu flat screen—sound on mute. Ashley turned and stared at him. As he watched, her large, luminous eyes shifted from chestnut brown to a dark green as the light changed.

“Do you mind?” He held up the remote and turned back toward the TV, angry with himself. Eric had no business contemplating the color of Ashley’s eyes. But his forces were in retreat. Even Louise had recognized it. He was finding it impossible to ignore this shy, pretty young woman he found so attractive.

Others had tried to help—Joey, Bobby, even Lip—offering a shoulder or friendship to deal with the grief Elaine’s death had left in its wake. Did this make any sense? Was it possible that after only a handful of days Ashley was the long-sought savior he’d awaited?

“No, I love baseball.” She nodded, bringing him back with a curious smile.

Just as he turned the sound up, Jerry Remy, the Red Sox color analyst, dissected the double-play the Blue Jays shortstop had completed.

“Nice underhand toss. The shortstop led the second baseman just right.” Ashley nodded again, animated as she turned to look at him. “But this guy on the mound—got nothing but a fastball. No off-speed or breaking stuff. We’ll get to him in a few innings.”

A smile crossed Eric’s face. “You know your baseball.”

Ashley shrugged. “Played softball in high school. My team, the Lady Wildcats, came in second in the state tournament,” she added with pride. “And ’course Daddy used to take us to Triple A games in Tidewater whenever he was home.”

“Really,” Eric said. Not the Ralph he remembered. But the evidence continued to mount. “You want something, a beer, soda—anything? Maybe some chips or pretzels?” Eric wasn’t sure how to talk to Ashley. He wanted her to relax and open up.
Patience, LT.
He needed the truth, to find out what happened to bring them here. But she wasn’t a prisoner to interrogate.

Eric’s stomach churned as he played with the remote. Small talk, especially with women, had never been his strong suit. Shy wasn’t exactly the right word, but Eric felt at home with Bobby, Buzz, Lip, and the guys on his team. With Ashley, a whole new dynamic was at work. One he found hard to accept.

“No, thanks. I’m fine.” She tilted her head to the side. “Don’t drink much. Not since—” She looked away as her words trailed off. He wondered if the reason was a sweet seven-year-old asleep in an upstairs bedroom.

“I have one now and then,” he volunteered, twisting the truth, still trying to picture Ralph taking the girls to baseball games.

“Eric,” she said in her quiet drawl, watching him. “I know you got questions about all this.”

“Questions? That’s an understatement.” An ironic grin crossed his face.

“I…I can understand, believe me.” Ashley looked away. Her words tumbled out erratically. She cleared her throat and swallowed. He wasn’t the only one having trouble making conversation. “You think Ralph was a bad man. I know. Don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure that out.” Her lips curled into a crooked smile. “I’m pretty good at judging people. I can see it in your eyes,” she said softly. “They get dark and angry when I talk about him.

“I don’t know what happened between you two, but something did. All I know is he was always good to Kylie and me.” She stared straight ahead. “I got into some trouble when I was a teenager. I wanted to—to take care of it.” She hung her head and shrugged again. She turned, eyes cloudy and full of regret. “He and Momma wouldn’t let me. They told me I made a mistake and had to do the right thing.” Her dark eyes filled as she stood and walked to the bay window. “I did what they said. They were right. I never regretted that decision. Maybe you can’t understand what I’m sayin’, but Kylie’s like a, I don’t know exactly how to put it—like a beacon. When I’m tired or sad or scared, I just look at her. She keeps me on track—‘grounded’ is the word people use.” She turned, pausing and wiping her eyes. “Could we go out on the porch?”

“Sure,” he agreed, flipping the game off. Ashley continued to amaze. Some of the insights into her life were disarming in their candor. Maybe she was ready to open up, to share the truth about why they arrived on Friday night.

“I got this nasty habit,” she confessed, shaking her head as they sat down on the back-porch swing. Ashley on one side, Eric on the other.

Ashley pulled a crumpled cigarette out of her jeans and lit it. Taking a deep drag, she exhaled a long plume of smoke with obvious pleasure. “I know it’s not good for me, but I can’t help it. I never do it in front of Kylie,” she rationalized. “But I’ve been dying for one the last few days.”

He laughed softly. “I know the feeling.” Eric hesitated. “Got another one?”

Her large eyes grew larger. “You…
smoke?
”