Barracuda Security Complete Trilogy, page 15
part #1 of Barracuda Security Series
She shook her head. “I have no idea. But I’ll tell you what. I’m done. I’m done with all this bullshit! I’ve always wanted excitement in my life, but now that I have had it, I’m ready to go back to boring!”
I laughed and so did Briar, it was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard.
“You wouldn’t happen to know where Maclean is?” I asked after a beat. “Is he getting his head looked at?”
Rylee nodded. “He’s down the hall.”
I went in search of my operative, glad to find him sewn up and ready to go home. The doctor was lecturing him about skipping the shower for a few days. I got the impression his words were lost on the man.
“Is she okay?”
“Briar’s with her.”
He nodded. “Should I go to her?”
“I think you should.”
“Maybe I should wait a while, make sure she’s recovered. I don’t want to crowd her out.”
“If I were you, I’d go talk to her now. See what she wants.”
Maclean smiled. “Thanks, boss.”
He rushed off. I sighed, making my way toward the door. Maybe it was finally time for that three or four hours of sleep.
“Mr. Gabriel?”
I stopped, expecting the reporter again. Instead, it was Briar, a shy smile on her full lips.
“Are you okay, Ms. Cox?”
“I’m fine. I just…thank you. It seems you saved me and my best friend all in one day. And I guess I wasn’t as grateful earlier as I should have been. I really am grateful for what you did.”
I shrugged. “I just couldn’t let him hurt you.”
She looked down. “Too bad you weren’t around five years ago when I married the guy. Maybe you could have warned me off.”
I thought of the fantasy I’d entertained back then, of him dying and me going to her and taking his place. Too bad it had only been a fantasy.
“Have a good day, Ms. Cox.”
“Briar,” she said.
“Only if you call me Kai.”
“It’s a lovely name.”
“It’s Swedish, meaning rejoice. At least, that’s the definition I prefer.”
“It’s a good name.”
I nodded. I’d never really liked my name, but maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.
Chapter 23
Rylee
I felt like an invalid, sitting around the house all the time. But I didn’t know what else to do with myself. I was afraid to go outside by myself, afraid to watch Molly play in the yard. I was afraid when the doorbell rang, afraid when I woke in the night and saw a shadow moving on the wall. I was afraid when I took a deep breath; and my chest ached from all the bruises they’d inflicted.
It’d been a week since the incident. That’s how I liked to think of it. The incident. It was better than calling it the kidnapping or the shooting. “The Incident at the Stormy Weathers Motel.” That was the newspaper headlines the day after. I liked that.
The news had rushed through the small town like a firestorm. My boss called and told me to take as much time as I needed. My friends all called. Even Roman called, leaving a message on my voicemail, saying he hoped I was feeling all right. The person who never called was my mother.
I hadn’t expected her to. This was more of an embarrassment to her than anything else.
So much for motherly love.
I thought about Maclean every second of every day. He told me he wanted to see me after it was all said and done, but that he thought I needed time. He didn’t ask, he just decided I needed time. Wasn’t that a joke?
All I wanted was for him to come find me. I wanted him to keep me safe.
I paced the house, trying to keep myself busy cleaning everything there was to be cleaned, but there was nothing left to do. I had to get out of here or I was going to drive myself crazy. Unfortunately, the idea of leaving the house made my heart race.
I called an Uber anyway.
I didn’t know where I wanted to go at first. But then I did. I knew exactly what I needed to do.
The parking lot seemed absolutely deserted now. No cop cars, no barricades, no press filming everything that happened. Just a motel with one door boarded up.
I stood outside of it for a long time, thinking of the things that happened inside. I’d never seen a dead man before, and now, suddenly, I’d seen three. It had been as horrifying and as futile as I’d imagined it would be. And strange. Sad. Frightening.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Maclean, his eyes dark with exhaustion, moved up beside me. I studied his face for a second before turning back to that door.
“I had to see it. I had to normalize it in my mind.”
“It’s still a crime scene.”
“It’s important for my peace of mind.”
“I’m sorry this happened to you. It was my fault. I never should have let you go to the office that night.”
“Like you had a choice,” I groaned. “I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I thought…I thought I knew best. I thought I could get us in and out of there without anyone noticing.”
“So did I.”
“I’m sorry I got you wrapped up in this.”
“It’s my job, remember.”
“Was it? Was all of it just your job?”
“No, of course not. That’s not what I meant.”
I turned into him, moving close enough to touch his arm. “I miss you. Is that crazy?”
“No.” He sighed, almost as if he were relieved. “I miss you, too.”
“I think sometimes I’ll never feel safe again, but then I think of you and it all just fades away, like nothing matters but the time we spent together, like all this was just a nuisance that we can ignore.”
“Yeah.” He cupped my chin and drew me to him. “I can’t stop thinking about you, either.”
It was a kiss that was almost like a first kiss, like the first time he’d ever kissed me, like the first kiss I’d ever experienced. It was a perfect kiss, one that I knew I would never forget. I moved into him, sliding my hands up over his chest, wanting to touch him just so I knew he was real. I wanted to remember what it felt like when he touched me, wanted to remember what it’d been like to lie in his arms. I wanted him, and I wanted him to want me.
Perhaps it was some sort of shock, a need born out of an extreme situation. But a part of me wanted to see how far we could take it before the shock wore off.
“Take me home, Mr. Harris.”
He groaned, pulling me roughly into his arms for a long moment. Then we walked off, climbing into his car as we’d done so many times over the past few weeks. It felt like something we’d always done. He even sang along when I turned on the radio and an 80s pop song came on. He hadn’t changed the station.
I walked into the diner before the evening shift and took a booth at the front. She came out from behind the counter, a tight expression on her once beautiful face. I watched her, hoping what I had to say wouldn’t fall on deaf ears.
“What can I get you?”
“I wanted to speak to you, Mrs. Grenville. Do you have a minute?”
She studied my face, her eyes narrowing as she recognized me. “You’re that woman, the one that was here with him a couple weeks ago!”
“I am. I’m also a defense attorney with access to court records.” I gestured for her to sit down. She hesitated, but she took a seat, her eyes weary as she watched me. “I think you know what I’m going to say.”
“Did he put you up to this?”
“No. He doesn’t know I’m here.”
“Then why? What’s the point?”
I slid a document across the table to her. “If I present this to the prosecutor’s office, they’ll move to refile charges against you. You understand that?”
She didn’t even glance at the paper. She knew what it was, proof that she’d had a prior DUI offense before the accident that took the life of Mrs. Meredith Harris. If that had been presented at any point in court, the judge would have given her a much harsher sentence, but her attorney—my boss, Randall Ferguson—buried it. She got a lighter sentence because her husband had pity on her and paid for the best defense available. But that could change in a heartbeat.
“You destroyed his life. Not only did you cause the death of his wife, you shattered his illusion of a perfect marriage by revealing your affair.”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t a perfect marriage.”
“That doesn’t matter now, does it?” I studied her face for a second. “He needs to move past this, and so do you. That can only happen if the two of you put the past behind you and focus on the future.”
“How am I supposed to do that when he keeps breaking into my apartment and causing me to lose jobs?”
“By letting him get his anger out once and for all.”
She stared at me, distrust clear in her eyes. “How do I do that?”
“Sit down and talk to him.”
She shook her head. “He’ll hurt me. He’s threatened to kill me on more than one occasion.”
“Do you really think he’s that kind of guy?”
“How am I supposed to know?”
“Because you knew her.”
Her expression softened. “I really did love her, you know. I never meant to hurt her.”
“Convince him, not me.”
She was quiet for a long moment, and then she slowly nodded. “All right. I’ll talk to him.”
I took a deep breath and crossed my fingers. I hoped I was doing the right thing.
Chapter 24
Maclean
I couldn’t believe I was doing this. Only for Rylee would I even have considered this meeting. She held my hand as we walked through the door. Without it, I wouldn’t have had the strength to open it, let alone walk through it.
“Mr. Harris?”
The therapist was a short, heavyset guy with a big smile. I shook his hand, glancing at Rylee. She gave me a small nod and let go of my hand, moving to take a seat in the waiting room.
She was there, clutching something in her lap, her hair stringy, her face devoid of any makeup. She was a very different woman from the one who’d been pacing beside the twisted wreck of her fancy car that night five years ago. Candi Grenville. Murderess.
“Why don’t we start with why we’re here today.”
“To clear the air,” Grenville said.
“To make my girlfriend happy.”
The therapist’s eyebrows rose. “Is that really the only reason, Mr. Harris?”
“I’m here because she thinks I need to put the past in the past.”
When Rylee brought up the idea just a few days ago, I thought she was insane. I don’t know why I agreed. Maybe for the same reason I agreed to everything Rylee suggested: because I wanted to make her happy. But this? It was insane.
“You hate this woman, don’t you, Mr. Harris?”
I glanced at the therapist, shocked by his choice of words. I thought they were supposed to keep that sort of thing out of therapy.
“I loved my wife. Our marriage might not have been perfect, but it was ours and we were happy. This woman took that away from us.”
“She wasn’t happy. She was bored.”
“And you made her life more exciting. So what? It was just another phase, another thing she was going through, just like the accounting classes and the modeling and everything else she’d attempted.” I glared at Grenville. “She would have gotten past it and moved on.”
“Maybe.”
“But we’ll never know because you killed her!”
“I did.” She was quiet a second. “I was drunk and I’d been doing cocaine and I knew I shouldn’t drive. She knew it, too. But I insisted and she wanted to trust me, and I failed her.” She started to cry, something I’d never seen her do before. All those days in the courtroom, she’d had such a stoic look on her face, refusing to look at anyone except the judge. But now she was crying.
“You killed her.”
“I did.” She wiped at her tears, taking the tissues the therapist offered. “I loved her. She made me feel things I’d never felt. I never wanted to hurt her. But I was an addict and I made mistakes!”
“It wasn’t a mistake. It was a choice.”
“It was. I know it was. And I’m working to accept that.”
This was not what I’d expected. What was I supposed to do with this?
“Mr. Harris, can you describe to Mrs. Grenville how it makes you feel to see her in town now?”
“I hate that you came back here.”
“I did it because I wanted to be close to her. She’s buried here.”
“She’s mine!”
“I know. I realize now that was selfish of me. I’m sorry.”
Oh, my God! What was I supposed to say to that?
“I won’t forgive you.”
“I don’t expect you to. I don’t forgive myself.”
It was a lot. I needed to process.
“How did it go?” Rylee asked when I walked out of the room. I just held out my hand and asked her to go home with me.
It wasn’t until late that night, lying in bed beside Rylee, listening to her sleep, that I understood what she’d wanted from that meeting. She wanted me to see that it wasn’t just about me. It wasn’t to develop compassion for Grenville, it was to see that what happened had happened to Meredith, not me; that her death impacted not just me, but everyone around her. Her parents still suffered every day, and I’d seen that, but hadn’t felt it until now. My anger was so acute that I wasn’t seeing, I wasn’t feeling anything else. But now, Meredith was dead and she wasn’t coming back. Our marriage, whatever it was, had been ours and now it was only mine. And now I could get past the anger and I could grieve that fact.
I could grieve my wife.
I got up and went out into the living room and opened a locked drawer where I kept all the photographs from my life with Meredith. I slowly looked through them, realizing I hadn’t seen some of them since before her death. I smiled at the wedding photos of those two young kids, I laughed at the snapshots where she was making funny faces, I cried at the few that reminded me of memories I’d never get to experience again. And I cried for what might have been and would never be.
I sat alone and I grieved my wife for the first time since her death five years ago. And then I put it all away and slipped into bed beside this new woman in my life, this new source of great happiness, pleasure, and hope. And I let myself begin to dream again of a life that could, with the grace of God, become my future.
Chapter 25
Kai
Several weeks had passed since the incident at the hotel. The cops still couldn’t find a connection between the three men in the hotel and Rylee Gruffydd or anyone in her immediate circle. Even their investigation into Roman Pierce’s background didn’t shed any light. He never served with Johnson, never seemed to be in the same location as Johnson. On paper, it appeared they’d never met.
Yet, I knew there was a connection. Ramon had told me himself.
Alexander was refusing to give me any more information on Black Jacket or the men associated with it, claiming it was no longer his case. I wasn’t sure if I could believe him or not, but I knew when to stop insisting. It was time for me to get my information the old-fashioned way, through a little gum shoe action.
I’d talked to those buddies of Roman’s, and I knew that he’d met with Abraham Black, the head of Black Jacket. I knew now that Roman had some association with the firm; I just wasn’t sure what it was. He’d traveled some these past few years, but I had to find out if it matched up where Black Jacket was most active. It occurred to me that Roman was bank rolling whatever illegal activities Black Jacket was involved in, but that didn’t seem quite right, either.
I had a few leads. It was time to follow them. I would figure out what was going on here, and I would make sure Roman Pierce went down for it, along with anyone else who was using the United States Military as some sort of fencing operation, or treasure-hunting game. This was going to end.
I was going to be the one to end it.
BOOK TWO
Prologue
Paxton
A month ago…
“Why am I never around when the good stuff happens?”
I walked into Kai’s office, my arms crossed over my chest. I was genuinely annoyed, and angry with him for something he couldn’t really control, and yet was the only one who could. He was behind his desk, shaking his head as he studied something on his computer, clearly not pleased with whatever it was he was looking at.
“Why didn’t you call me last night? I could have helped out at that motel! I’m as good with a gun as you.”
“I’m sure you are.”
Kai sat back and studied me, but a look in his eye that told me his mind was somewhere completely different. And that pissed me off even more.
“You had everyone but me out at that motel. Why didn’t you call me?”
“I had Maclean there because he was the one who notified me that his target had been kidnapped and taken to that motel.”
“Yes, see? His target was kidnapped! She never would have been in that position if I’d been watching her.”
“And then there wouldn’t have been a shootout at the local motel and you wouldn’t be here complaining that you hadn’t been there.”
I rolled my eyes. “Quit trying to talk your way out of this. You should have called me.”
“It all happened too fast. Besides, you should be more concerned about the fact that your coworker is, at this moment, recovering from his ordeal.”
“Maclean got what he deserved.”
“How’s that?”
I shrugged, realizing in time I’d spoken out of turn. “Nothing. I just…why did you hire me if you aren’t going to use me to the best of my abilities? I’m a soldier, just like you. I know what I’m doing in these sorts of situations, better than an ex-cop! You should have called me out there.”
