by Barb Han
None of that mattered when he closed the distance between them and took her in his arms. She buried her face in his chest and released the tears that had been building.
Clara had no idea how long they stood there but his arms were bands around her, holding her upright. “Thank you.”
“I haven’t done what we came here to do yet.” His voice was a low rumble against her chest.
“Whatever happens in the next few days, whatever we find out about what happened…” She paused a beat to stem the second wave of tears threatening. “I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for my family.”
“Clara—”
“No,” she cautioned. “Don’t backtrack now. You warned me.”
“I was trying to protect you but I’ve realized along the way what an asshole move that was,” he said. “I thought that if I could somehow prepare you for bad news in case that’s what we found that you’d somehow hurt less.”
“You were being honest.” She had come to understand that he was fiercely trying to protect her.
“I was underestimating you,” he countered. “You’re so much stronger than I gave credit. Before I met you, I’d convinced myself somewhere along the way that I would’ve been better off not knowing what had happened to the people I cared about. That not knowing would somehow make it hurt less. I wanted to spare you that same pain. That was stupid. Not knowing what happened to Ashlyn or if there was something you could be doing to save her seems the worst hell. I’m sorry.”
Those words were a warm blanket during a blizzard. It was a foreign feeling to allow someone to be her comfort. Being with Daniel, it felt right to trust—trust she’d never been able to give to another human being after what had happened to her.
“Thank you.” She pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed him. And then she took a step back. “Where do we go first?”
“I’ve dealt with locals in these parts. You should know a few things. Getting anyone to talk isn’t going to be easy. I know I’m asking a lot here, but patience wins wars. If we talk too soon or to the wrong person the truth will be buried so deep not even I will be able to find it.” The determined look in his eyes made Clara believe he’d die trying. He had the scrapes and scars to prove he was willing to do whatever it took to get the job done.
“What do we do then?” Sitting around doing nothing wasn’t an option. She’d go stir crazy if she didn’t make some kind of progress. Do something.
“Pretend to be on vacation. Talk up the staff. We play the part right and we’ll get what we need from them. We go in too soon and they’ll play defense. Considering we’re on their soil, we’ll most likely lose and this door will close for us,” he said.
She took the warning to heart.
“We’re so close,” she said on a frustrated sigh. “She was here in this room.”
“I didn’t say this part would be easy. I said it would be worth it.” He kissed her, tenderly this time. “You have a lot on the line. I understand that. Be patient with my plan and we’ll get to the bottom of what happened. We’ll find her. I promise.”
From Clara’s experience so far, Daniel didn’t make promises that he couldn’t keep.
Would this be a first?
Chapter 14
Three nights had gone by. Every passing day made the possibility of finding Ashlyn more remote. No one was talking. Daniel wanted to tell Clara to be patient. The words died on his tongue. The simple fact was that if Ruthie was the one missing being patient would be the last thing on his mind. The suggestion would be so off base he’d laugh.
Clara sat three feet in front of him, facing the ocean and hugging her knees. A large round moon stood sentinel over the broad expanse of water.
Daniel looked up. He couldn’t count the stars there were so many. White caps crashed against the surf before being sucked back into the deep blue ocean.
“Mind company?” Daniel seemed to catch her off guard.
She shrugged, non-committal.
Daniel knew that feeling—the one that made a person want to either cocoon or lash out at the nearest person. He knew what it was like to bottle emotions up so tight that they threatened to spill over on the first person who said the wrong thing. Hell, he’d been that person for the past two years and he’d been that person to Clara when they’d first met.
His response to pain had been to remove himself from everyone and everything. Cuba had been his hideaway from the world, the place he’d gone to lick his wounds.
And he’d figured out somewhere along the way that it might’ve stopped him from killing someone with his bare hands—believe him when he said that had been a consideration at one time—but his life there kept him stuck in a cycle of self-hate. He didn’t see it that way while he was there. That revelation came with watching Clara fight so hard to stay
He took a seat next to Clara, sitting in silence for seconds that stretched out into minutes. He stared out onto the water, noticing the vastness of the ocean and how insignificant he felt. It had always had that effect on him.
The bright moon was a glowing orb, its beauty lit the night sky but was so far out of reach.
“Her name was Ruthie.” Daniel hadn’t spoken that name aloud in two years. He feared his voice would fail him when he cleared his throat and continued. “She was six-years-old.”
Clara stared into the night, just like he did, in companionable silence.
And then he glanced at her, catching the rivers stream down her cheeks.
“The reason I walked away from my old life, hell, anything that resembled a life, was because a mole published all the agents’ names and personal information on the dark net of the place I worked. Nothing I did was my wife or child’s fault but they paid the ultimate price for my actions. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I couldn’t save them.”
“I’m so sorry,” came out barely above a whisper. Her words washed over him like a tide of forgiveness he didn’t deserve.
“You know the saying what’s done in the dark always comes to light?” Daniel asked. “I could add karma’s a bitch to that too.”
Clara nodded. More rivers.
“During my service, my unit acted on bad intel. We didn’t know it at the time but when we came up on the village we knew something was off. We were given the orders to proceed anyway. That a high-valued target hid inside. We were told to destroy the asset. We tried to argue but it did no good. We were toy soldiers to the government, being played on a board we had no control over. And because we went against our beliefs and followed orders we decimated a village of mostly innocent people to take down one bad guy. Children died. The situation got hot fast and we realized too late that we’d been sent into a trap. We’d been deployed too quickly by a government that had stopped caring about causalities, about innocent people, about us. Their sole focus became taking out one man and not one politician thought about the good men who wouldn’t return to their families as a result. About kids who would grow up never knowing their fathers. About wives who would watch their husbands, children be lowered into the ground and vice versa. Meanwhile their lives were about to change forever. I was discharged not long after. I had nowhere to go so when Jaden asked if I wanted to work for ManTech I had no reason to turn down the job.” Daniel had to stop. The memories engulfed him, like a flash flood after a deadly storm. “ManTech went down in a blaze and our information was out for anyone to see. I’m not saying that I didn’t deserve to be punished. But they didn’t. They were innocent.”
“Bad things happen to good people, Daniel. I see it all too often in my line of work,” Clara said.
“You’d think the experience would make me come home to be the best husband and father I could, but did it?” The tide was rising inside him, threatening to take him under again. The distant beat of the drum sounded. “No. I pushed my wife away. I walked around feeling lost and alone.”
“You had survivor’s guilt,” she said quietly. “You needed time.”
> “That’s not what Naomi believed,” he said. “She wanted me to reconnect with the world. Do something for others. And I believed that, too. Believed her. I believed that she wanted to work on our marriage and make it better for our daughter. Then her phone started going off the night before I left for the mission trip she’d devised for me. She was in the shower, so I picked it up, figuring something big was going on. Hell, a selfish part of me wished those messages were the head of Haiti Now! calling the whole trip off. Nothing in me wanted to go on that mission and I almost pulled out at the last minute.”
Daniel paused a few beats. He hadn’t spoken these next words aloud to anyone but they needed to be said.
“There were urgent messages all right.” A bitter laugh rattled around in his chest. “From a friend of hers trying to talk her into following through with leaving me. From what I gathered Naomi couldn’t walk out because I’d come home too broken and she couldn’t walk away. Not yet. Not until she knew I’d be okay.”
“I’m sorry.” Those two words spoke by Clara brought in so much light to the dark places inside Daniel. For once, he felt like he could breathe, really breathe and not have his chest cave in.
“I’d had a bad feeling about that trip but I went against my instincts because I got too inside my head. If I’d stayed back—”
“You don’t know if it would’ve made a difference,” she soothed.
Daniel wasn’t ready to forgive himself but he didn’t patently reject the idea.
“Blaming yourself won’t change what happened. Punishing yourself for the rest of your life won’t make it better. You’re a good man, Daniel. You deserve to find peace.” Clara said more words that managed to pierce his armor.
Helping someone else had an odd effect on his demons, keeping them at bay while chipping away at his anger and replacing it with a spark of something he hadn’t felt in a long time…hope.
He stood up and Clara followed suit. He kissed her right there, under the bright moon for longer than he cared to keep track. She brought her arms up and looped them around his neck. He wrapped his around her midsection, splaying his right hand on the small of her back. Body-to-body, swaying in the breeze, a life that had been tipped on its axis far too long righted itself.
Early the next morning, Daniel got in a forty-five minute workout before showering and heading out for a walk while Clara slept. Her sleep had been fitful. She’d tossed and turned throughout the night, woke up crying at one point, and he’d pulled her tighter against his chest and held her until she stopped. He kissed her and they’d made love again.
Daniel was in trouble. He’d known it from the minute he first met Clara. The first kiss had cemented it.
He glanced around as he wound down one of the paths toward the beach like he’d done dozens of times since their arrival. He’d varied his times and took the less-traveled paths, listening.
At this hour, workers wearing maroon jackets were the only ones awake and on the move. He’d walked for fifteen minutes and passed four maroon jackets when his gaze landed hard on a kitchen worker.
The crown of the man’s head bobbed up and down from behind a tall cart that he was wheeling out the back door, humming.
There was something familiar about him.
Daniel crouched low and followed Maroon Jacket.
At the trash bins that were surrounded by a wooden structure, the man stepped into the construction leaving the cart to block the entrance.
Still on his heels, Daniel moved stealthily along the Cannas until he was positioned close enough to hear voices.
The men spoke in whispers.
“I’ve seen her before,” one of the men said. “I need you to know that I won’t keep lying.”
Maroon Jacket had a conscious. Daniel could work with that.
“We didn’t do anything wrong,” the other man said. “We’re looking out for our families. Is that dishonest?”
“Not telling the truth is dishonest,” Maroon Jacket said.
“Without these jobs there’s no food. Would you have our families die of hunger?” The second man was agitated. “How will I look into my child’s eyes and tell him there’s no food. That he must die in order to save someone we don’t know.”
“What about Carl?”
“He’s the one who told us to not to tell the truth,” the second man said.
“None of this is right,” Maroon Jacket said.
“You speak the truth. And we won’t make it better by taking food off our families’ tables.” The second man lowered his voice. “Tell me. Do you stand with us or against us?”
There was a long pause.
“Don’t worry, mon. I’ll do what’s right,” Maroon Jacket finally said.
“I knew I could count on you, my friend,” the second man said. “Believe me, nobody wanted this. Nobody feels good about this.”
“How could we?” Maroon Jacket agreed.
“We keep up the search. We do what we can.”
Daniel followed Maroon Jacket, keeping low enough to use the manicured hedges to shield his presence.
The dark-skinned man was thin. His maroon jacket looked two sizes too big, hanging off his willowy frame. His cheeks were sallow and his hair cut short.
Winding along the path, Maroon Jacket started whistling. He bobbed up and down as he walked, taking a large stride for a man of medium height.
Music started playing in Daniel’s head. A steady drumbeat bit out a rhythm.
Daniel pushed through it, focusing on following Maroon Jacket. Daniel’s new marching orders were to get Maroon Jacket talking.
The breeze rustled the Canna, streaking their red tips that lined the path. Daniel moved with ease along the trail without making a sound. He scanned the ground for lizards, plentiful here on the island, and something that could bring attention to his presence.
And then Daniel saw his opportunity. He reached from inside the Canna and gripped Maroon Jacket’s arm, pulling him into the brush and covering his mouth. It all happened so fast Maroon Jacket didn’t have time to scream for help.
This job, Daniel excelled at.
Another second passed and Maroon Jacket was flat on his back. Daniel’s powerful thighs pinned Maroon’s arms to his sides.
“Be very quiet,” Daniel ground out in a hushed tone.
Maroon’s eyes were wide and sweat beaded on his forehead. He nodded as much as he could, considering Daniel’s hand was a vise grip pressing the back of the man’s head into the dirt.
“Where’s the blond girl?”
A split-second of panic in Maroon’s eyes told Daniel the man knew exactly who Daniel was talking about.
Maroon recovered quickly, trying to shake his head but being met with a steel grip.
“Don’t bullshit me,” Daniel demanded. With a free hand he pulled his KA-BAR from his ankle holster and in the next second the blade was against Maroon’s cheek bone. “You want to do this the hard way?”
Another attempt to shake Maroon’s head was met with Daniel’s unyielding grip.
“Then tell me the truth or I’ll slice your skull open and feed your brains to the monkeys.” Rage was building inside Daniel when he looked the resistant man in the eyes—eyes that had become darker. “What happened to the girl? She’s innocent in all this. Is an innocent life a good trade for a few dollars?”
Maroon clamped his eyes shut like that could stop him from hearing Daniel’s words, like it would somehow make them untrue.
Daniel had no intention of using the weapon on an innocent man. He just needed to see if physical force was the right button to push to get Maroon talking.
If he could peel the man’s skin back he’d see a pinball machine of activity under the hood. Maroon was thinking hard.
Daniel glanced at the nametag on Maroon’s jacket. It read, Isiah.
“Talk to me, Isiah. A family is suffering because of what happened here and we know the blond girl didn’t leave on her own free will.”
Isiah closed his
eyes like he was praying for guidance.
Daniel tapped on Isiah’s forehead with the butt of his knife.
“No one up there can help you right now. You’re dealing with me now. I’m down here and I won’t stop searching until I find her. I won’t stop asking questions or digging into your personal life until she shows up again,” Daniel said.
Isiah tried to move his mouth to speak.
“You scream and I’ll slit your throat. Understand?” Daniel stared down at Isiah with a look that told the man it wasn’t an idle threat.
Isiah nodded.
Daniel loosened his grip enough for Isiah to speak.
“Are you talking about the runaway?” Isiah asked.
“You and I both know she didn’t take off on her own,” Daniel bit out.
“I don’t know anything.” The man’s expression belied his words. Even if Daniel hadn’t just overheard the conversation between Isiah and his colleague he would’ve known the man was lying.
“You can keep quiet. But I’m not going anywhere. There’s a young girl out there being treated like God only knows what, by people who don’t care that she has a family back home that’s broken because she’s gone. They don’t care that she has a mother who can’t sleep and a father who feels helpless because he can’t bring his baby girl home safely.” Those words had the impact of a physical punch on Daniel as he said them. They hit a little too close to home and his voice shook. Daniel cleared his throat and tightened his grip around the metal handle of his KA-BAR.
Even though Isiah kept his mouth shut, Daniel could see the effect he was having with the man on his face. His features dragged like he hadn’t slept in a while. His eyes had no spark, no curiosity. His muscles had no spring, no fight in them.
Daniel was making progress but he hadn’t hit a home run yet.
He issued a sharp breath as the all-too-familiar feeling of being the one to let people—himself—down tried to cloak him, weighting down his arms. Clara was right. Even if he’d been home, he might not have been there to save his family. Now, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to change the past.
