by T. K. Leigh
In truth, I hadn’t been entirely honest with him. He had brought up Charlie on countless occasions, asking me if I knew anything else, and I denied having spoken to him. I never told him about that phone call back in July when he told me his side of what happened the night of the embassy attack. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like it would be helpful in figuring out what was really going on, but that conversation was the real Charlie and I wanted to protect it.
Sliding off my barstool, I went to Tyler and wrapped my arms around his chest from behind. “No, you don’t deserve it, and I should stop bringing it up every time I’m not getting my way. I said I had forgiven you, and I have, yet I still remind you at least once a week. I’ve learned to trust you all over again, Tyler, but I also need you to trust me. I have nothing to gain by keeping my father from you. In fact, I tend to think I only have something to lose if I prevented you from picking his brain. I want this as much as you do. Should I have heard from him at this point? Probably, but I’m certain he has a very good reason for not arranging a meeting yet.”
“Do you think something happened?” Tyler asked urgently, tearing out of my embrace, a frenzied air about him. From what he’d told me of the case, just when they were about to uncover something that may put the pieces together, there would be a setback. It had been a constant battle of two steps forward and three steps back, and I felt for him.
“Tyler…” I wanted to assure him everything was okay, but did I know for certain nothing had happened? No, but I knew my father. He had survived on the run for over fifteen years. He wasn’t going to do something stupid now, not when freedom and the truth were potentially within arm’s reach. “You don’t know my father like I do. He’s a brilliant man. He’s probably taking his time to do some research on you to determine whether you’re trustworthy. From where I’m standing, the fact that he’s taken this long to get back to me is a good sign. It means he’s most likely going to agree to talk to you. So just be patient and trust that when I get notice of a meeting, I will let you know immediately.”
“Okay,” he said, kissing the top of my head before turning off the stove and dishing out scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast onto two plates. I followed him back to the island and returned to my seat, my stomach rumbling. Triple B was a bit of a parasite. I could eat a feast, only to be starving again ten minutes later. Thankfully Tyler was more than aware of my increased appetite and always cooked extra eggs for me…and the baby.
“So what’s on your plate for today?” he asked as I chewed on a piece of bacon.
“I’m going into the restaurant for a bit, then Jenna’s dragging me into Brownsville.”
“For what?”
“She’s insisting I finally go buy some furniture for the nursery. She’s worried I’m not taking this seriously and the kid will be forced to sleep in one of my dresser drawers when he’s born.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” He glanced at me.
“No, that’s okay. We kind of decided to make a girls’ day out of it. Brayden works in town so we’re supposed to be at his office around noon to grab lunch, then go shopping. I have a feeling he’s more excited about this than I am. You’re still coming to the baby shower tomorrow, right?” I placed my hand on his leg. “It really means a lot that you’ll be there with me.”
“Of course.” He gave me a small smile. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
He broke his gaze from me and turned his attention back to his food. I glanced at him, hoping he wasn’t upset that I wanted to have a day with my friends. He didn’t seem like he was, but the way he was pushing his eggs all over his plate, barely touching them, made me grow concerned something else was bothering him.
Taking a deep breath, he looked at me. “Have you thought about which room you want to make into the nursery?”
I took a sip of my coffee and considered his question. The truth was, I had been avoiding making a decision. I lived in a three-bedroom condo, but there wasn’t much space. The master bedroom was adequate, the two guest bedrooms being nothing more than a room in which you could fit a bed and not much else. I kept walking by each of them, hoping inspiration would strike, but it never did. I simply couldn’t imagine raising a child here. His clothes alone would take up the entire room.
“A bit, but I haven’t decided yet. There’s not much space.”
“I think I might have a solution to the space problem,” he offered.
“Oh, yeah? What is it?”
He took a deep breath, and I couldn’t help but think that whatever the solution was, I may not like it.
“I want you to move in with me…”
My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. I had known this day would come, especially now that the baby was almost here, but I guess I didn’t want to acknowledge it. I liked having my space. I liked knowing if things went to shit with Tyler, I still had my home. It gave me control.
Before I could open my mouth to respond, he added, “At my house in Boston.”
“Boston?!” I exclaimed, unsure whether I had heard him correctly.
“Of course, we’ll wait until after the baby is born and you’re both able to travel. You can keep the condo and use it as a vacation rental, but I’d really like for you to think about this, Mackenzie. I want you to be a part of my life and family, and I’d like that with you back in Boston.”
He reached for my hand, but I ripped it from him, storming away from the island. My hands shaking, I scraped all the eggs off my plate and into the trash, my ravenous appetite gone. I tried to ignore the warmth approaching behind me, but I was unable to. I could feel Tyler from miles away.
“Mackenzie,” he said, running his hand up and down my arm in an attempt to placate me. “Don’t get upset about this. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I knew you’d react this way so I kept putting it off. I just want you to consider this as an option.”
“But what about my friends?” I asked, spinning around to face him. “My family? This place has been my home for the past five years! I’ve built a life here! A business! You’re asking me to just walk away from all of that and move somewhere completely new and foreign to me. I don’t know if I can do that!” I threw the dish in the sink and grabbed my purse.
“Mackenzie, just–”
“No!” I whirled around as I approached the front door. Tyler reeled back, his eyes studying me as if my reaction was completely unexpected. “The truth is,” I continued in a low voice, “I’ve seen this coming, but maybe I’m just not ready to do this…” I gestured between our bodies. “Not like I thought I was.”
Not wanting him to see my tears, I stormed out of the condo and jumped into the elevator. I knew my reaction wasn’t entirely reasonable, but the idea of moving to Boston confirmed an aspect of our relationship I had been content to ignore the past several months. Now, it had brought itself to the forefront of my mind.
The elevator doors opened and I dashed through the lobby, ignoring Paul, and toward my SUV.
“Mackenzie, please!” Tyler bellowed as I was about to hop in. “I understand. I get it.” He grabbed my hand, spinning me around to face him. “I know it’s going to sound cheesy, but when I bought my house in Beacon Hill, I always imagined eventually raising a family there. For years, it’s been so empty, so cold. There was no life to those four walls…until you walked inside. Even back then, I imagined how life would be if you lived there with me.” I listened to his plea, trying to put myself in his shoes.
He reached out and brushed a tendril of hair behind my ear, his expression softening. “We can wake up each morning and have coffee together, like we do now. In the summers, we can watch the sunrise from the rooftop deck. We can watch the leaves on the trees change colors in the fall and take in the beautiful scenery. During those snowy nights, we can snuggle in front of the fireplace and watch the city get covered in a coat of white. In the spring, we can soak in the blooming flowers as they bring new life to the city around us.”
“I�
��”
I stared into his eyes that were begging me to at least consider it. South Padre wasn’t an ideal location to be raising a child, not with all the alcohol and partying that happened here almost year round. Most of the condos in this building were used as vacation rentals. I wanted to live where my son could play with friends when he was a little older, and he certainly couldn’t do that here. But Boston? Away from Jenna and Brayden? Away from my father? I didn’t know if I was ready to take such a big risk.
Worse, it made me come to terms with the fact that Tyler and I came from two separate worlds, despite what I had told myself time and time again. His world was up in Boston, while mine was down here. I didn’t know if we’d ever truly be able to coexist, not when we wanted two different things.
“I can’t do this right now,” I quivered, pulling my hand from his and jumping into my car. He stepped back, allowing me to leave, much to my surprise. I expected him to stop me, to want to push the conversation, but he didn’t. He simply let me leave him standing there, a hurt expression on his face. I didn’t know if I’d ever forgive myself for causing that look, but that still didn’t mean I could give up my life so he could live his.
Tyler
I PULLED MY BRONCO into the driveway of my house, wishing I had pushed Mackenzie to tell me what was really holding her back from agreeing to move to Boston with me. I knew asking her was risky, which was why I had been putting it off for the past month, but I didn’t want to go any longer with our current living arrangement. I wanted to come home to her every night to a house we shared. I wanted to be there to rock our son to sleep. I wanted to read him bedtime stories. I wanted him to be surrounded by a family who loved him.
And I wanted all of that back in Boston, not down here where we would both be reminded of our past. We had been given a chance to have a new beginning, and I didn’t want to squander that opportunity.
Entering my code into the keypad on my front door, I walked through the house, hearing animated voices coming from down the hall. I headed toward the study, surprised to see Martin, Eli, Benson, and Maxwell sitting around the table. The remainder of the team had stayed on, but I decided to only use them in a purely protective role, not investigative. I liked keeping my inner circle small, and everyone present had proved to be trustworthy, even Benson.
“What’s this all about?” I asked, sensing there must have been some sort of new development if all these people were here.
“Sir,” Eli began, shooting up from his chair. “We think we may have something. Benson and Maxwell found some questionable information about one of the missions Galloway was on while a Ranger.”
“Really?” I perked up. Over the past few months, we had hit nothing but dead ends. Just when we thought we were getting closer to figuring out who was behind everything, it turned out to be nothing. We had dug and dug into Galloway’s background…his time in the Rangers, his investigations while in Counterintelligence, even his home and family life. We had come up mostly empty-handed, which was frustrating and made me start to think that maybe he wasn’t being set up. Maybe he just wanted us to believe he was.
“What did you find out?” I asked, eyeing Benson and Maxwell as they sat at the table.
“Well, it took a while to put the pieces together, but we were finally able to access field reports from when Galloway’s unit was in Bosnia in the early nineties.”
Eyeing him skeptically, I grabbed a file off my desk and flipped through it. “I think you’re mistaken. There’s no record of him going to Bosnia. Not to mention, according to all the information we received from the CIA, Galloway had already transferred to Counterintelligence by the time of the conflict in Bosnia.” I had practically memorized the entire dossier of the missions he was involved in when a Ranger, and Bosnia wasn’t on the list. I would have certainly remembered that.
“Precisely,” Maxwell said, his excitement growing. “We always thought perhaps this guy was hiding something. He was Special Forces, then in Counterintelligence. It’s obvious he’s got some skeletons in his closet. Skeletons he had the skills and training to hide.”
Closing the file in front of me, I nodded, giving my full attention to Benson and Maxwell. “Tell me about this supposed mission he was on in Bosnia.”
“Well, his Ranger unit was sent there during the crisis in the early nineties,” Benson began. “As you know, the United States didn’t want to get involved in the civil war, but that didn’t mean we didn’t have some troops in the area. We did, and Galloway’s team was one of the units sent over there.”
“And what was their mission?”
“We don’t know,” Maxwell said, “but we found a copy of the only field report Galloway filed during his time over there, accounting for the casualty of two of his unit members. No details were given, just their names.”
“But if they weren’t involved in active combat…?”
“We had the same concerns,” Benson agreed. “So we took the initiative to look into the remaining members of Galloway’s team. We found it particularly disconcerting to learn that all of them, except for Galloway and two others, are now deceased.”
“Or missing,” Maxwell added.
“Missing?” I scrunched my eyebrows.
“Yes. Harrison Mills, Galloway’s neighbor, was on the mission and, as we know, he’s been missing for several years.”
“So it looks like we should go talk to someone who was in Bosnia with Galloway and see if there’s a connection. It may not clear anything up, but maybe we can find out a little bit more.”
“We’re one step ahead of you,” Eli said. “Maxwell and Benson are heading to Oklahoma to talk to one of them…Peter Carlyle. You and I are going to head to Florida to see if we can get some answers out of Bruce McDonough.”
“Perfect. See if you can get these guys on the phone and make plans to go talk to them on Monday–”
“Sir,” Martin interrupted. “We’ve all discussed this and think time is of the essence here. If someone has been killing the members of the unit, there’s a possibility they’re after Carlyle and McDonough. It took Maxwell weeks to even track these two down. They’ve been living completely off the grid for years, making me believe that perhaps they knew someone was after them. Granted, it’s been several years since the others died, but I’m not sure this is a risk worth taking.”
Sighing, I ran my hand over my face. I knew I needed to go talk to at least one of them, but I had promised Mackenzie I’d be there for her baby shower tomorrow. I glanced at my watch, noting it was just eleven in the morning. If we hurried and got a flight plan in place, we could be in Florida by two or three. That gave us a little wiggle room. Even if we had to track him down, as long as we were back by tomorrow morning, I’d be able to make Mackenzie’s shower.
“Fine. Let’s go. Benson. Maxwell.” I nodded at them. “You’ll most likely be getting to your target’s house first. I want a full report after you’ve spoken to him. It may help us when we’re interviewing our guy. Understand?”
“Sir,” they said in unison.
~~~~~~~~~~
“WHAT DO YOU THINK Galloway’s time in Bosnia has to do with all of this?” Eli asked as we drove from Tampa airport and out to St. Pete Beach. My thoughts had been elsewhere, thinking of Mackenzie and the argument we’d had earlier. I had tried calling her to let her know what was going on and assure her I would be back in plenty of time for the baby shower, but my calls went right to voicemail, so I knew she hadn’t cooled off yet. I just hoped she would come around so we could at least discuss this like two rational people.
“Tyler?” Eli said, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Which makes more sense, or which do I want to believe?”
“Let me guess. It’s not the same.”
I sighed, leaning my head on the window of the rental SUV, soaking in the warm Florida sun. “I wish it were. Am I a horrible person for beginning to think maybe I was wrong before? That maybe, with everything going on, it makes more
sense Galloway really is the one behind all of it? Everyone associated with him seems to be dead or missing, and I can’t help but think he’s the cause. The only evidence I have that he’s not is my girlfriend’s assurance he couldn’t be, even though she barely knows him. Does this make me a horrible person?”
“No,” Eli agreed, keeping his eyes on the road as we drove across a bridge toward the island. “You’re looking at everything rationally, like any good investigator should. But sometimes circumstances are such that we want to believe one thing, blinding us to the truth.”
“I know… I just wish there were some sort of tangible evidence out there other than word of mouth to go on! We have no idea who to trust or believe here. Anyone could be lying. Hell, being here could just be one giant wild goose chase.”
“Could be, but it might give you the answers you’ve been looking for. Don’t forget that.”
Nodding, I closed my eyes, wishing I had some sort of clarity about this case. I had been so convinced Galloway wasn’t behind it because Mackenzie believed it, but I wasn’t so sure now. As with everything else in this case, the more we found out, the less certain I was about what was really going on.
“We’re here,” Eli announced twenty minutes later as he pulled up to a beach house on the Gulf of Mexico. It was a cream-colored home on stilts. A flight of stairs led up to a large wrap-around deck overlooking the ocean. A vintage BMW motorcycle and a pick-up truck sat beneath the house. “Ready?” He glanced at me.
“Yeah. Let’s do this.” I opened the car door and started up the dozen or so steps to the deck. I rang the doorbell and waited, expecting to hear some sort of movement from within, considering the television was audible, but I heard nothing. No sign of life at all.
