SEAL Firsts

by Sharon Hamilton

  Madame M sighed and looked up at the long bank of crisscrossed stairs leading to Tom’s front door. Her initial expression of concern changed when she saw Christy’s face. Her mask, that impenetrable face of steel, came back, and she took to the first few steps like she was a triathlete. But she soon tired. Eventually she made it to the top, even accepting the driver’s assistance.

  They ate spinach and mushroom omelets, buttered cranberry-orange scones, and drank more cappuccino and fresh orange juice. Though Madame M was several years older than Tom, the banter between the two was passionate, with all statements taking on a double entendre. They continued with their sexy word play all during the breakfast. Christy found it lightened her mood, took her mind off all the problems that were looming on the horizon. She imagined Madame M had been quite the tease as a younger woman and wondered why she spent so much of her life alone. She’d have been a great partner.

  They were ready to leave. Madame M had checked to make sure her driver hadn’t left.

  “Tom, could I trouble you for another cappuccino for the road, for Carlo?”

  “No problem. Christy, you want to take one, too?”

  “No thanks, I’ve had plenty.”

  Tom prepared Madame’s espresso drink in a white mug, without the nutmeg sprinkles, and handed it to the older woman with a bag containing the remaining orange scone.

  “Just send the cup home with Christy tonight,” he said.

  “Oui, certainement.”

  Christy found it difficult to look into Tom’s blue eyes knowing he would be again asking her to share his bed this evening. And again she’d have to turn him down.

  “What time will you return?” he asked, right on cue.

  “Oh, well, perhaps six or seven, what do you think, cheríe?” Madame asked. “You want to go to dinner afterwards?”

  “No, I’ll just pick something up on my way home,” Christy said.

  “I was hoping to be prepared. I wanted to cook for Christy again. I’ve bought everything I need.”

  “I will have Carlo deliver her promptly at six, then. That settles it.”

  Christy knew Tom was watching her as she stepped out the front door behind Madame M. She hadn’t said goodbye to the man she was going to have to turn down tonight. And this time, she’d have to take the gloves off, to make sure he understood there wasn’t going to be a sexual relationship brewing.

  On the way to the shop, Madame M leaned against Christy’s frame. They were seated together in the back of the black car. Familiar buildings flashed by the window. Christy hadn’t realized she missed the city so much.

  “I don’t understand you, my dear. You could do much worse than Tom. And I think he likes you.”

  “You think?” Christy frowned. “I don’t want to involve him.”

  “You already have, cheríe. I can smell a man in love a block away.”

  “I’m not ready for all that.”

  “Then tell him to wait. Give him one sign, a little hope, and I think he’ll wait. But someone is going to land a very nice future with a handsome billionaire.”

  At Christy’s surprised expression, Madame M continued, “Oh yes, he’s now a billionaire. It was in Baron’s. One of the top 100 in the U.S. now.”

  “Good for him.” It mattered little to her. “I’m sure his ex wives would be grateful.”

  “Ah, cheríe, that’s not kind. He has only one ex, as you know. And she, well, she…”

  “He told me about her.”

  “He has no children. I understand he wants them now. That means he will be looking for a younger woman.”

  “Please, Madame M. Don’t do this anymore. I’m here to help you.”

  They spent the morning going over shop procedures. Traffic was very light. Christy found herself back in the rhythm of the little place on Maiden Lane, with its exotic French Lavender fragrance, the Piaf music playing softly in the background, and Madame M’s murmurs in French as she sorted, checked off lists of orders, and poured her arthritic hands over the lacy fabric of pretty things.

  Christy found a new boxed Parisian couture bra and panty set made of light rose-colored gossamer and embroidered in tiny white and light pink flowers that was exactly her size. The retail price was over three hundred dollars for the pair. Madame M caught her drooling over them.

  “Take them. Just wear them for something special.” She pushed the box into Christy’s chest. “I insist.”

  “You mustn’t spoil me this way, Madame.”

  “Now, my dear, you must learn to say thank you. That is all I require.” Madame had her hands on her tiny hips, tapping the floor with the black toe of her ballet slipper.

  The door behind Christy tinkled as someone with heavy footsteps walked in.

  Chapter 33

  Kyle called Simms four times. As one hour turned into two, it became clear to him the man was ignoring him. He jumped in the truck and headed for Patterson Realty.

  The receptionist gave him a squinting frown like the vice principal at his school had all those years ago when Kyle and his buddy Marc tried to skip class. They liked to hang out behind the gym and watch the girl’s volleyball team practice. Marc was dating the captain, a long-legged giraffe of a girl who was about two inches taller than him. Kyle loved looking at the black spandex and blond pigtail of his favorite girl. Way more important than History or English.

  “I’m Kyle Lansdowne. I’ve left like several messages for Mr. Simms, and I know his car is here. Can I see him?” He tried to soften her sharp inspection with a killer smile that usually worked. But the woman was hardened. Not exactly unattractive, but damaged somehow.

  “No. He’s asked not to be disturbed.”

  Just then Wayne Somerville came into the lobby, carrying an overstuffed briefcase and a load of manila files. His white shirt was overstretched across his chest. It wasn’t as big as his fleshy belly. One of the fake pearl buttons was about to pop at any moment.

  “Hey there, Wayne. Remember me?” Kyle was watching the receptionist out of the corner of his eye. He needed to have an excuse to be here, to talk to Simms.

  The startled look on Wayne’s face told him Wayne had remembered the encounter days before. Kyle continued, “Christy was showing me condos, and all of a sudden she’s disappeared.”

  “Uh huh,” Wayne said, juggling the files under his left arm. He leaned back and briefly looked at the receptionist standing at Kyle’s back.

  Kyle continued, “Don’t know what the protocol is, but I got a bonus coming, and if she’s not available, I was wondering…”

  Simms entered the lobby area. “Stacey, I’m going to step out for some…” He stopped in his tracks at the sight of Kyle, and uttered a soft, “Oh.”

  Wayne was quick on his feet and launched into his salesman persona. “It’s okay, Carl, he and I were just talking about real estate things. I got it.” Wayne winked at his manager. “Kyle, let me put these down at my desk and we’ll…”

  “Just one second, Wayne. I need to talk to your manager first. Give me a card. I’ll call you later on, if that works for you.” Kyle could see Somerville’s blood pressure was rising. A fat vein pulsed at the side of his thick, deep, pink neck. “I promise. I will call you later on.” He didn’t think Wayne was dishonest. Just gutless.

  Wayne glared at his manager, then nodded. Repositioning his files, he produced a card from his shirt pocket and handed it to Kyle.

  Kyle put the dog-eared card in his back pocket and turned to Simms, ignoring Somerville. With a firm hand on the manager’s shoulder, indicating he wouldn’t take no for an answer, he said, “I’ll buy you a sandwich and we can talk.” He leaned into Simms’ personal space and whispered, “You got the address?”

  “Not yet.”

  Kyle knew it was a complete lie. “Hear me out, first. It’s a matter of life and death,” Kyle whispered.

  Simms turned and glared at the receptionist. “Hold down the fort for a half hour. I’ll be right back.”

  The lack o
f response from the receptionist made the room seem small. Kyle pushed Simms out the door and toward his truck.

  Once outside, Simms backed up and put his palms out toward Kyle, distancing him from the SEAL. “Look, fella. I don’t want any trouble. I’ve already talked to the authorities.”

  “No trouble. Not here to make any trouble for you or anyone,” Kyle whispered. He opened the driver door to the bench seat of Gunny’s truck. “Get in. Now.”

  Simms hesitantly looked around first, then climbed into the cab and scooted over to the passenger side. His brown Oxfords were nicely polished but didn’t match his grey suit, Kyle thought. The flesh appearing over the tops of his socks was pasty white.

  He took Simms to a Burger Palace and paid for their order. He sat across the man and dipped fries into a little white paper cup of catsup.

  “The fries are the best here.”

  “Um…”

  “So why won’t you give me Christy’s address? I know she called you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “You just told me.”

  Simms muttered, shook his head, and looked to the left.

  “She is in danger. She trusts some very bad guys.”

  “No doubt. I think I’m sitting across from one.”

  “Come on, Simms. If you really thought that, you wouldn’t be here.”

  “I have a healthy respect for your profession. But I’ve been told…”

  “Who told you about me? Besides Christy.” Kyle couldn’t help but blush.

  “Well, let’s see. I got a visit from a Deputy Hilber and some other Navy MP guy with an unpleasant demeanor. I’ve received a couple of calls from the San Diego PD I haven’t returned. There’s you. And of course Christy.”

  “Look, I don’t know how to make you believe this, but she really is in danger. I’m trying to protect her.”

  “That’s what the sheriff’s deputy said too.”

  “Yeah, and he’s dirty.”

  “And that’s what he says about you.”

  “Not a chance in hell. This guy actually killed one of his own men. I saw it.”

  “So why aren’t the cops out looking for him instead of you?”

  “I don’t have all the answers. But the only reason they want Christy is to get to me. They’re not really interested in arresting me.”

  Kyle and Simms shared a look. Kyle could see Simms was thinking over his words.

  The two men ate in silence. Kyle wiped his mouth and fingers on the thin white napkin. He took out a small notebook from his vest pocket, wrote a number on it, along with a name. He tore the perforated page off and slipped it across the table to Simms with one finger.

  “Call him. He’s my Chief. He’ll vouch for me.”

  Simms took the paper, but shook his head as he slipped it into his wallet.

  “You gotta hurry up, though,” Kyle continued. “We are running out of time.” Kyle saw fear written in the man’s eyes. A second later it was gone.

  “Take me back to the office. Now.” Simms’s burger and fries were half eaten.

  “Where the hell you been, Kyle?” Timmons barked into the receiver.

  “Talked to you yesterday, sir.”

  “I got people all over the place looking for you. This is no good, son. You any closer to finding Armando? I’m going to have to pull rank here to keep myself out of the wringer now.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Look. I think this Deputy Hilber guy is after Christy now. Her manager, a Mr. Simms, won’t give me her address, but I understand this guy has been snooping around, looking for her. Saying he’s trying to protect her from me, of all people.”

  “That’s becoming a common thought every time another body turns up.”

  “I asked him to call you, sir. Did he?”

  “Hilber?”

  “No. Simms.”

  “Nope.”

  “Shit. I gotta find her before Hilber does.”

  “Well, what about Armando?”

  “He’s trained. He’s going to have to go it alone for now. He’d be onboard with protecting an innocent.”

  “This is ill advised. Never should have gotten her involved in the first place, Kyle. What were you thinking?”

  “You know what I was thinking, sir.”

  “I don’t like it when the public gets involved. You should just concentrate on Armando, son. I thought I’d made myself clear about that.”

  “Timmons, I’m the reason she’s in danger. I can’t just walk away and pretend it doesn’t matter if she gets hurt.”

  Kyle felt tightness in his chest. His voice waivered, his eyes felt like they were suddenly filled with sandpaper. He inhaled trying to calm his insides. It worked.

  “Goddamn it. You guys are all alike. Thinking with your small head. Don’t go bringing that shit down on me too, Kyle. I can protect you only so far.”

  “Understood. If it comes to that, I’ll take the fall. All of it.” It was what he’d told his team. Timmons didn’t jump in and offer to share the burden, but that wouldn’t be fair anyway. “We need to get that address. I’m not going to beat it out of him. But if we don’t, Timmons, I know she’ll get hurt. These guys don’t care about anything. Pure rogue.” Then Kyle remembered the call from Sergeant Mayfield. “There’s this SDPD guy, Mayfield.”

  “I met him. I think he’s okay. Why, is he in on this thing?”

  “No. I think he’s clean. Did me a favor and called me about the murder…”

  “Another murder?”

  “In Christy’s condo complex yesterday. A trainer in the gym.”

  “Okay. He call you again?”

  “No, but he told me he has the address where Christy is staying.”

  “I’ll get it, then. I know the sonofabitch.”

  Kyle wondered what Timmons had up his sleeve. He only hoped he’d get to Christy in time.

  Kyle met up with Fredo and Cooper at Fredo’s apartment. They were arguing over how many dryer sheets Fredo was using. Kyle knew that meant they were using Coop’s box of fabric softener, since he doubted Fredo even used the stuff.

  “You know what the problem of living with you is?” Fredo was standing close to Coop, head leaned back to all six-foot-four of a towering farm boy in front of him.

  Coop stood his ground. “No, but you’re gonna fuckin’ tell me. So hurry up and get it over with so we can get your panties washed.”

  Kyle knew they would shout, yell, and curse. But neither one would touch the other. Not in anger. Jesting, joking, yes. But you don’t touch a SEAL in anger. Then you’d deserve everything you got.

  “You’re wired up so tight,” Fredo said. “You’d have a heart attack if you won the lottery. Who gives a shit if I use one or three dryer sheets? You fuckin’ offered, man. So I grabbed a handful.”

  “They cost one point four cents a sheet.”

  “Incredible. You’re never getting married, man.”

  “Don’t plan on it, Frodo. But at least I smell good.”

  That nearly earned Coop a punch. Kyle stepped in between them.

  “Hold on, ladies. Are we really arguing about laundry?” Kyle said, looking from one set of dull blue eyes to another set of dark squinting eyes.

  Fredo swore and left the room. Kyle heard the dryer door open. He came back with a fistful of sheets, more than three, and thrust them at Cooper’s chest.

  “Here. I don’t want your fucking jasmine breeze sheets. I’ll pay you back next week. All five cents of it.”

  Coop took the white squares and did count them, which got Kyle laughing inside. To Fredo’s back, Cooper whispered, “Five. You took five.”

  “We go shopping. He gets the two-day-old meat and the no-name stuff from the little Super Saver. He even buys bruised bananas in a bag. That’s sick, man.” Fredo began to curse in Spanish.

  Kyle knew they were nervous. All of them. The waiting was killing them.

  Kyle spoke to break the stalemate. “I got Timmons getting Christy’s address. She’s not at
her apartment. I’m guessing she’s in San Francisco.”

  “Frisco, huh. We going to Frisco?” Fredo asked.

  “Not we, just me.”

  “Like hell you are. And Gunny won’t like it either.”

  “First I got to get an address. The sheriff we saw at the cabin is after her. I think he’s already on his way.”

  Chapter 34

  Timmons caught them a ride on a Navy transport plane to Moffett Field. Gunny couldn’t fit into any of the cami shirts they had, so they let him go out of his uniform disguise, which raised some eyebrows. After landing in Mountain View, the foursome hitched a ride to a rental car agency on El Camino Real. They got caught in commuter traffic to the city.

  They arrived at the house on Stanyan Street at seven o’clock. Timmons had told him Christy was staying in a cottage behind the main house. As he looked up the tower of stairs to the side of the big Victorian, he couldn’t see the cottage. But he noticed the front door of the main house was wide open.

  And gray smoke was coming from the rear. Kyle’s blood pressure rose.

  They quickly parked their rented Tahoe on the street. The three Team guys quietly checked their surroundings as they donned their backpacks. Kyle slung a bag with some additional firepower over his shoulder and checked the deep turquoise sky. Clear as a bell. There was a distant siren, but it could be going somewhere else. No one in the neighborhood stirred. There was little traffic.

  Gunny stayed in the Tahoe as lookout, while Kyle, Cooper, and Fredo quickly climbed the front steps to the Victorian. Kyle silently dropped his bag on the porch. Everyone unholstered their sidearms. On Kyle’s mark, all three breached the open doorway, fanning out in three directions. Cooper went right, Fredo left. Kyle went straight back to the source of the fire in the back.

  A few moments later, they gathered back in the kitchen. Someone had left meat in a pan, and it had burned until the pan itself was red hot. The back door was open, so most the smoke had gone out that way. It made an excellent calling card. Kyle had shut off the gas to the expensive commercial range. He didn’t want to alert anyone still in the house to their presence, so didn’t turn on the fan.