Second Chance SEAL: The Girl He Left Behind (Sunset SEALs Book 2)

by Sharon Hamilton

  “Oh, we have ninety-five percent attendance here. Being from so many worlds, non-believers are considered the odd ones. We have generations of Muslim and Jewish settlers who came to escape the Inquisition. But I would say the Catholic church is the strongest.”

  Inside the chapel was a sacristy dedicated to war heroes, which surprised Damon.

  “An honorable way to die,” Alexi sighed. “And a completely wasted chance at happiness, too,” he added. “Sorry, but that is my view.”

  “It might surprise you, but we got those too. Even some on the Teams,” mumbled T.J.

  “Your Kyle says all of you are lifers, yes?” Alexi asked.

  That drew hearty laughter.

  “We got no one and dones here,” said Cooper. “As for lifers? That’s not a term I’m very familiar with. At some point, the old bod begins to break down and other shiny objects start catching our eye.”

  “Most of us will have knee or hip replacements before we’re forty,” added Damon. “Renny here is going for a brain transplant next year.”

  “I highly recommend that, Renny,” barked T.J. “What the hell’s the matter with you two? No wedding bells?”

  “Fuck sake, T.J.” Renny started as they piled into the van. “I’m one and done on that. And this one’s fresh out of the ocean and still flopping around on deck.”

  Damon didn’t care for the laughter taken at his expense.

  “I hear he has a hook in his mouth, though,” Cooper added, punching Damon in the arm.

  “Afraid so. We’ll be doing Facetime non-stop here.” Renny would not give up.

  “Does your wife like to wear skimpy underwear, and those little thongs?” asked Fredo.

  “Not for you, asshole,” Damon barked.

  Cooper was right on that one. “Oh, Fredo has his own collection. He has a thing for lingerie. He just likes to compare.”

  Alexi’s expression went from jovial to concerned.

  “Hey, no worries, Alexi. We’re just joking,” soothed T.J. As he began to loosen up again, T.J. delivered the kill shot. “Fredo harkens back to his roots. Before becoming a SEAL, he was a helluva pole dancer at one of those bars in East L.A.”

  “Compton,” Fredo corrected.

  They all laughed and for the next half hour, Alexi said nothing at all. It was kind of a relief to Damon.

  They traveled, through an industrial zone packed with warehouses. Driving around the side streets was extremely slow and tedious, due to the number of lorries of varying sizes picking up and making deliveries to the harbor. Since most of the island’s food had to be imported, Alexi explained, large warehouses were necessary for storage. Apparently when the island was first used for inhabitants and not just farm animals, even water had to be imported, he explained.

  “I’m getting a good feeling about this place. They’d have an easy time with lookouts,” said T.J., who pointed out several armed men on top of the flat roofs of some of the buildings. “And they can nearly walk from one to another. No one would ever see them from down below.”

  Just as he said that, they watched two men leap from one building to land on their feet on another.

  Alexi pointed out several more as they snaked through the bustling streets.

  “I’m wondering why they’d ever take a chance and run an operation way up the hill like the Blue Marlin,” asked Damon. “That seems too risky, in my opinion. They have it all here. Up there, you got one way in and one way out.”

  Alexi had a quick answer for that.

  “For the limos, the businessmen from London, Amsterdam, Washington, D.C., my friends. It’s for the floor show. You get all those dolls lined up on the balconies over there, and it’s like Disneyland for perverts.”

  “So, they used it for staging?”

  “Exactly. We locals call it the tasting room, you know, like they have for the wineries?”

  “Then they could store the rest here in warehouses,” whispered Renny.

  “Or hold them when they offload from the ships that bring them in.” He went on to explain. “The local population can’t provide enough women for the trade. Besides, they have to have local cooperation. You have an expression about not shitting where you eat? Why piss off the locals, steal their women when you need their protection?”

  It was making perfect sense to Damon why the operation was so successful.

  “Where do they come from?” asked Tyler.

  “The orient, some from Africa. You have to realize this island was developed and paid for many times over by the slave trade. The sex trafficking business is very lucrative.”

  Silence descended on the van.

  “I know your Kyle is interested in this Freescott boy. This is the warehouse for his winery on the other side of the island.”

  “Winery?” asked Cooper.

  “Oh yes, the Portuguese have been making wine on this island for centuries. Other than grazing cattle, it was the first agricultural endeavor here. Old families, even some pirates settled here and became huge landowners and winemakers. And Cape Verde was discovered by the Venetians for the King of Portugal, so there you go. Even your Francis Drake sailed here as a privateer.”

  Coop dictated addresses to T.J. who was taking copious notes.

  “I like that one, and that one over there. Notice the men on top,” Fredo whispered.

  “Got it,” answered T.J.

  They met up at the Dockside cafe and tourist stop, where their van blended in well with several others from a cruise ship that had docked in the bay that morning. They took a long table and fought off a group of Italian tourists from the ship, who were jabbering like magpies and unhappy being rejected. Kyle and the rest of the Team arrived shortly thereafter.

  They all ordered lobster, and beer on Alexi’s recommendation.

  “Don’t bother with the salad. Don’t order anything else that can’t be frozen or stored. Fruit is excellent, though!”

  Damon and Renny each ordered a half-pineapple hollowed out with a variety of local fruits that was refreshing. The lobster reminded Damon of the gulf coast in Florida.

  “You guys been to one of those gulf beaches in Florida?” he asked the group.

  “Outstanding!” said Kyle. “I’d like to take the kids there some day. Christy’s been dying to get me committed to a trip.”

  “You go to one of their crab places, and you walk away—no, wait, you slide your way back to your car, you’re so covered in butter,” Damon added.

  “What the hell are you doing out there? You’re from California, Damon,” asked Fredo.

  Renny interrupted Damon’s response. “Long story, Fredo. Don’t get him started. Trust me. You don’t want to hear it.”

  They laughed.

  “I’m sorry. You did say that you are in a new relationship, Damon? Fellas, I’m wanting to hear those stories about sex on the beach and all that stuff we don’t get to do any longer, right?”

  “He lives vicariously through you guys,” Coop explained. “He even gets turned on with Mia’s soap operas.

  Alexi laughed. “You should watch Ukrainian soap opera.” He summed it up with, “The best ever!”

  “Said no one,” added Kyle.

  The conversation got serious and only lasted that way for a couple of minutes.

  “You all have your nominations?” Kyle asked, making eye contact with each of the Team, as they nodded. “You got your addresses and description, and your case for why, all that stuff?”

  Again, everyone nodded.

  “Anyone got to stop by and pick anything up on the way back?

  “T.J. and I would like to see if we can pick up some Tramadol and some alcohol swabs. They sell it cheap here.”

  “Okay, you make sure to do that. Anybody else?”

  T.J. raised his hand like a schoolboy. “I saw an advertisement for Pirate beer. I’d like to try out a case of that if we can keep it cold.”

  Alexi agreed. “Good local beer. Two Ukrainian fellows started it.”

  “
Of course,” T.J. said.

  Chapter 14

  Phyllis clung to life until the day Kaitlyn returned, never regaining consciousness.

  “Not exactly the welcome home party you were hoping for. I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

  “They were good about updating me. Only thing I regret is that I didn’t get to talk to her. I’m glad you did, though. The staff said she enjoyed your visit. Thanks, Martel.”

  “She called me the first day and we had a really good talk. She was so helpful. I had no idea your mother had such a sense of humor.”

  “Oh, there are stories. She was quite the character.” Kaitlyn’s voice hitched. “I go from giggling at all the things she did growing up to being really sad.” She sighed. “It’s a big hole to fill. But we had some great years, and she got to see Greg and I get married. I’m grateful for all that.”

  “I visited her when your sub told me she’d been admitted. She was joking about getting me to rip out all the tubing and take her to the beach with an ice cream.”

  “Yup. That’s Phyllis.”

  Martel’s cheeks were streaked with tears. She knew Kaitlyn’s probably looked the same.

  “I felt a little guilty that perhaps I’d been partially responsible for getting her so worked up.”

  “Yeah, they told me. Don’t feel that way. She probably did it on purpose. I know she couldn’t have been very happy there. It all turned out the way it was supposed to.”

  “You’re amazing, Kate.”

  “No, actually, I’m a little tired.” She chuckled. “You probably think me a freak, but we don’t do grieving in my family. She wouldn’t want it that way.”

  “My mom was the same way when she passed.”

  Martel paused several minutes while a wave of sadness passed. Kaitlyn waited.

  “You need help with anything? I presume you’re going to take a few more days off?”

  “No, I’m sticking to the schedule. I’ll be missing the latter part of the school year anyway, and I need to save my sick leave.”

  “That’s right. I forgot. And doing something you’re so good at is probably the right way to spend your days now.”

  “That’s exactly right.”

  “But what about her service? Can I help you with that?”

  “Would you be surprised to learn she already had it all scripted and planned out? She even printed the announcements, leaving the date and times blank so all I have to do is fill them in. I would be crying, but I can hear her laughing behind me. I turn around, expecting to see her.”

  That part gave Martel a shiver.

  She and Damon video phone conferenced nearly every day over the past week. He looked good. Being over there with his buddies seemed to buoy his mood, and some of the adventures they’d been having reminded her of how he’d been like in his early twenties. His language got filthy, however.

  Renny inserted himself into their conversations often, and it annoyed her. She wanted alone time with her boyfriend, not this Boy Scout who wanted to play pranks on him. She hoped Renny wasn’t getting the two of them into trouble.

  She firmed the dates for the visit to Coronado and informed her landlord in Sunset Beach when she was going to return. She bought some new clothes.

  Martel also made an appointment with an adoption attorney to discuss trying to locate the adoptive parents she’d placed her daughter with.

  Phyllis’ memorial service was something she never was going to forget. She’d requested to have an open casket. She had it in her will that she be dressed in a red designer suit she’d recently purchased, with matching red elbow-length gloves. The funeral home had trouble fitting the enormous red hat adorned with colorful flowers inside the casket, but they made a good try of it. Even the look of it stuffed into the box was so Phyllis.

  Kaitlyn wasn’t the only one who heard her mother laughing. Martel began to imagine the same thing. Especially when she took a closer look and discovered Phyllis’ red gloves clutched her favorite romance novel, an especially steamy one where the hero on the cover was shirtless and wore a kilt.

  Martel couldn’t look Kaitlyn in the eyes for fear of bursting out laughing as she walked back to the pew. They held hands all during the service, squirming, each struggling, but not for the reasons the audience thought. Ladies from Phyllis’ bridge club sat in a row behind them, and every one of them wore a flowered hat as well, as though it had been planned out in advance.

  It probably was.

  There was a stirring gospel song performed by a handsome male Jamaican soloist she liked to go dancing with before she got sick. He was thirty years her junior. Several nurses from the care facility and one of her doctors attended. She even had flowers delivered by the florist she used to send to friends, and she had a big arrangement prepaid and delivered to her daughter, with tuberoses and light pink roses that had been in her wedding bouquet. She’d personalized the private note that was delivered with it.

  Martel felt the strength and power of this magnificent woman reaching out to her, guiding her hand. Phyllis had never given up on life, how to live it and how to exit. Now more than ever, she wanted to take Phyllis’ suggestion.

  Martel knew Phyllis would be cheering her on.

  Attorney Gran Karmody had a big office on the top floor of a bank building in Tampa. Dressed in a white suit, complete with a brocade vest and gold watch, his large moustache and snow-white hair created an imposing figure on billboards, but even more so in person. He reminded her of all the images she had of a typical shrewd country lawyer, and could have been a fabulously wealthy divorce attorney.

  But he had a calling. When she’d asked around for the name of an attorney to handle an adoption situation, his was always the first one on everyone’s lips. He lived to place children into childless couple’s homes and he fought for the birth mother and child just as if he was defending someone before the Supreme Court. It was the only kind of law he practiced.

  His firm handshake nearly left a welt on the back of Martel’s hand.

  After she explained her situation, he didn’t say a word, but remained leaning onto his desk, his hands folded before him, studying her with eyes she was sure didn’t miss a thing.

  “First of all, I want to say that you are a very courageous woman.” His southern drawl and demeanor was charming… and just as disarming. She guessed he was probably the most formidable attorney she’d ever met.

  Martel was glad that she wasn’t dressed down like she had feared.

  “I’m relieved,” she said, placing her palm against her upper chest, swallowing.

  “Well, I mean it. Now, I wouldn’t normally take on a case like this. But I am moved by your story. I’m going to tell you not many women would go about this in this fashion. As a society we operate on fuzzy logic. Out of sight. Out of mind. Sometimes unwanted pregnancies are seen as inconveniences. But in my opinion, most of the women who give their child up for adoption do it because they love them. And you, little lady, are certainly one of those.”

  Martel was surprised. All the rehearsing in front of her bathroom mirror had paid off. She didn’t want to be misunderstood and didn’t want her emotions to cloud the delivery.

  “Here’s the problem. You signed a piece of paper”—He held up her copy of the contract—“This piece of paper, and it says right on it you are giving up forever your rights to any kind of claim on this child. That means even a phone call. The law is very cut and dry on this subject. They paid your expenses, and they have the right to expect what they purchased. They didn’t purchase your child, Miss Long—They paid for the opportunity to be able to raise this child without any interference from you.”

  “And I agree with that.”

  “So, you can see what’s happening here. Your life has changed, but you still said you would honor this contract, and that’s a problem. But…”

  “They can change their mind if I ask them.”

  “And that’s exactly right. I’m going to recommend that you let me talk to them fi
rst. Ordinarily, when lawyers get involved it makes everyone nervous, and they should be. But in this case, they might need the kind of assurances I might be able to give them. I can tell them just what you told me. You don’t want to interfere. They will forever be her parents and the people who loved and raised her. But, Miss Long, if they say no, I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline to represent you any further, because I just don’t believe in undoing something as loving and unselfish as your action to give her up.”

  Martel’s heart was beating so hard, she thought perhaps she was shaking the floor.

  “Do you understand me, Miss Long?”

  “I do. I completely agree.”

  “One other thing that bothers me a bit. This deal only goes for you. Your new beau, the father of this child, has no part in this, even though he may want to. That’s a whole other can of worms. I don’t want to get him started down any path where he might feel he has some rights here, because that wouldn’t be fair to the parents. Assuming your child is happy, they are reasonable people, AND you are respectful of their position, they may include him at some future date, but I’m not going to even bring it up. We don’t need that kind of complication. Are you okay with that?”

  “I am.” She hesitated to ask him her next question. “What are my chances?”

  “You met them back then. I’m guessing your meeting was amicable, and you’ve lived up to your part of the bargain. We’ll just have to see what’s in their hearts. I really can’t predict, Miss Long. But I promise I’ll argue your request with all the delicacy and respect I can muster. And if they say no, I’ll make sure to leave the door open and let them know, if they change their mind, I’ll always be here. Now, is all that acceptable?”

  “Thank you, Mr. Karmody,” she said as she stood.

  “You got it, ma’am. My pleasure.”

  Martel walked out of the office arm-in-arm with the spirit of Phyllis Carrington. She even bought an ice cream on the way home.

  Chapter 15

  The team made a schedule of the couriers, the deliveries and police that frequented the two buildings identified as most likely to be working the illegal network. After days of night surveillance, Kyle was confident several of the other targets could in fact be decoys, or places where things could be quickly stashed if an operation went against the cartel’s interest.