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Heal Me

Page 28

by Grady, D. R.


  Greg liked how the women seemed to enjoy each other and their families so much, but he preferred the fringes, himself. A person could breathe on the fringes. So why did he feel so compelled to be here in Hershey?

  There was no doubt he would be able to breathe amid that many people. Ever. Too many people, too many faces, too many expectations he would fall short of. He couldn’t do it. Not even for the precious children and sister and doctor he’d come to protect.

  He slipped quietly out the door and followed Janine, who left the store alone. Just in time Greg merged with the shadows and watched as Janine joined the group concealed in the trees. If he hadn’t seen her destination and realized she had one in mind, he would have never noticed the silent figures who waited patiently for her. He kept to the shadows and the darkness was so familiar none of them saw him. That was quite how he preferred things.

  Without remorse, he eavesdropped on their conversation. The SEALs and Janine all kept their voices low and their presence quiet.

  “Someone broke into O’Riley’s house?” Janine’s voice, as low as the men’s, still carried just enough that he heard her.

  “Yeah,” one of the SEALs muttered. Greg couldn’t tell whether the man was Ben Morrison, Sam Welby, who he thought had retired, or Rex Beaumont because the man’s voice was pitched just low enough.

  “Why would you be stupid enough to break into an Admiral’s house?”

  “Because he wanted to find a certain secret operative.” This time Greg recognized Ben’s voice.

  “Who?” Janine leaned forward, her movement so careful, only someone who knew she was there and was watching carefully, would notice. He had more difficulty not noticing her. She could be engulfed in a crowd of Morrisons and he would still pick her out of the mass confusion.

  “That’s what we want to know,” Beaumont said. “O’Riley told us one of his best operatives had died. We all suspected it was Michael Lamont.”

  “Why did you suspect him?” Her voice gave nothing away.

  Ben raised a negligent shoulder. “Heard rumors.”

  “But whoever snuck into O’Riley’s house asked for a secret operative.” Welby’s voice was so low Greg could barely distinguish it. He must have been the original speaker then.

  “By name?” Janine’s voice was sharp.

  “We don’t know. Haven’t actually talked to O’Riley,” Ben admitted.

  “I did briefly this morning,” Sam said.

  “And?” Beaumont didn’t stir in the shadows.

  “He didn’t say anything about the break-in.”

  “Why do you believe the dead agent is Lamont?” Janine’s voice was without inflection. But he thought he detected an intensity the other men apparently missed or ignored.

  “We were supposed to pair up with an agent on our last assignment—.”

  “In the past, Lamont’s had our backs. This time it was some guy we didn’t know.”

  “So you assumed Lamont is dead based on that?” Janine sounded incredulous.

  “We happen to know he took out those terrorists up in northern PA. We also know he sustained some nasty injuries.” Ben’s voice remained low, so low Greg had to concentrate to hear his words.

  Janine still gave nothing away. He wondered if it frustrated the SEALs. With a smile, he suspected it did.

  “We cleaned up the traitor for him,” Welby said. “Lamont’s known for cleaning up his own messes.”

  Ben frowned and stared at the men with him. “Should we be telling Janine this?”

  From where Greg stood he could see her eyes, and they blanked. Her entire face went devoid of emotion. Good girl.

  “Yeah, we can tell her,” Welby said.

  She raised a brow. “How do you know that?”

  “O’Riley let something drop the other day, so I know you know more about this than most.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like the fact you were a former member of a certain secret operative’s team.”

  Ben started and whipped around to face Janine. “You’re a secret operative?”

  “No, I’m a former member of a secret operative’s team.” She stared her brother down. “So, it’s okay to talk to me.”

  Even these SEALs probably wouldn’t understand the extent of her training, much less what her duties had entailed or her skill set. In fact, he didn’t fully understand them, either.

  “Why? Just because you’re a former member doesn’t mean we should mention the agent in question.” Ben still seemed reluctant to trust these facts to just anyone, even if she was his sister and a former Navy woman. Greg respected the wariness on the SEAL’s part. It was because of men like Morrison that helped keep operatives, former operative, he corrected, like him alive.

  “You should trust me because I signed Lamont’s death certificate.”

  No emotion crossed either of the men’s faces he could see. Morrison had his back to Greg now, but Welby stood beside Janine, and Beaumont’s face was in profile. Janine’s back stiffened, subtly, but he recognized the movement because he felt his own spine react. Greg faded further into the shadows.

  “Death certificate.” Beaumont bit off the statement, almost making it sound like a curse.

  “So it was Lamont who died,” Ben said. He didn’t move but Greg thought he sensed some agitation from the SEAL.

  “I was the attending surgeon. We tried to save him, but couldn’t.” Janine’s voice was low, without inflection again. Greg marveled at how easily she lied. Why these SEALs didn’t detect their own or similar training in her... But then why would they?

  One of the SEALs said something Greg didn’t catch, but it warmed him a little that they were angered by Lamont’s death. At least this team seemed to appreciate the man who now rested in peace. Hopefully rested in peace.

  Welby’s forehead pleated, and his body went taut, like he didn’t quite believe what was said.

  Ben must have picked up on Welby’s unease because he asked a low question Greg didn’t catch.

  Beaumont leaned forward, his movement easy and nearly undetectable. “Where did you hear Lamont isn’t dead? Janine said she signed the death certificate.”

  “Michael Lamont’s death is filed with the courthouse. His death was listed in the obituary section of the paper.” Janine’s voice didn’t waver. She sounded like she believed every word she said.

  Welby shook his head. “I could have sworn...”

  Janine’s face didn’t reveal anything, but he noticed she held her spine a little too erect. Tension glistened in the air around her.

  “What?”

  Greg leaned closer because this was probably information he didn’t want to hear, but needed to know.

  “I could have sworn O’Riley said the guy died, but I heard some talk that Lamont finished up another mission.” Welby stared at Janine like she should offer all the answers he wanted.

  She stared back at him with assessing amber eyes.

  Her head shake was final. “He’s dead.”

  Great, this was just great. If people didn’t think Michael Lamont was dead...

  This was yet another reason why he hated coming home. It was nothing but bad news piled on top of bad news. Then he realized if someone, anyone, thought Michael Lamont was still alive, trouble would ensue. And that was exactly why he stood on Hershey soil again. He had heard the same rumors that must have reached the SEALs’ ears.

  Greg’s spine stiffened more as he listened. His heart tightened, while his lungs couldn’t seem to draw in enough air. To take his mind off his physical woes, he watched Janine’s amber eyes gleam with a fierce light.

  “A dead operative can still cause problems for the living. Especially if Michael Lamont didn’t take all of his secrets to the grave with him.” Ben’s voice was low and flat.

  Lamont hadn’t taken all of his secrets to the grave. Unfortunately, a vast amount of information his government would be interested in had resurfaced recently. Months after Lamont’s official death. Greg didn�
�t want to resurrect Lamont because... well, because he didn’t. He didn’t want to deal with the danger again, or bring it closer to home.

  That particular information could land him into a lot of trouble if not absolute danger. Neither of those commodities bothered him. He had survived both plenty of times before. What ate at him was the fact that all the Morrisons, his sister, and the SEALs he had helped in the past could land with him. The SEALs could take care of themselves, but the Morrisons and his sister were innocent. If there was one thing he hated, it was watching the innocent get hurt because of him.

  “Maybe we ought to help O’Riley stop the rumors of Lamont still being alive.” Beaumont spoke softly, as he usually did, but his voice was infused with power.

  “Like I said before, the man’s death was reported in the paper. His death certificate is on file.”

  “Maybe O’Riley better make sure that information is readily available.”

  “I’ll mention it to him.” Janine’s eyes hadn’t lost their fierce light.

  Greg realized he had to leave soon. His breathing was labored and he needed space. He needed answers, but he didn’t think he’d find them here.

  He was thankful to have overheard this conversation between the SEALs and Janine. Now he had more confirmation that Lamont wasn’t dead after all.

  This was not comforting news.

  Before he could escape to his car, the Morrison women filed out of the store. Janine had intercepted their exit, jiggling her keys like visiting her car had been the reason for her absence. He was trapped in the cover of the trees until they all climbed into their vehicles and drove away. If he made his presence known, he shuddered at the very thought, he’d have to stay and answer a dozen questions from each of them.

  The very thought of that many women in his personal space made him fear passing out from lack of oxygen. Or having a seizure on the very spot. Janine probably wouldn’t be happy with him if he died after all the time she put into keeping him alive.

  “That’s all the information I have,” General Emma said briskly. “Now, ladies, how are your family searches going?” She rubbed her hands together, as though disposing of the previous subject and launched the next. He was more than ready for them to move on.

  The brunette and Janine exchanged glances. Not the same full on conversations Janine and KC employed, but it appeared this woman and Janine might have a similar ability to silently communicate. The ladies smiled at each other before turning back to O’Riley’s wife.

  “I’m still looking. The courthouse has a lot of information.” The brunette rocked a baby.

  “And I’ve done some internet searches for John Morris, but there are thousands of them.” Janine’s voice sounded wry.

  “Have you been able to contact anyone on your island?” KC tilted her head.

  “I have sent letters to several of the women I remember there. I don’t know if they’ll be answered.” Janine’s calm seemed to blanket the entire area. Breathing was easier now. Greg heaved a deep breath, and enjoyed how his lungs expanded. Good, passing out ceased to be an option, for now. Fainting tended to provide much fodder for hecklers and Greg would rather people ignore him.

  After she repositioned the baby, the brunette nodded. “I can take half your names if you want help with the internet search.”

  “I’d appreciate that, Lainy.”

  John Morris. Why were they searching for him? A memory niggled, but he couldn’t pull the tendrils into a cohesive thought. John Morris. John Morrison. John Morrissey.

  He filed away the information for later, when he had his encrypted computer handy. Greg figured he could bounce ideas against a secure server that would help to pull the pieces into something he could use. Hopefully.

  “Sure. My courthouse search isn’t moving fast.”

  “And Mom and Aunt Heather have been complaining about the mess in Aunt Tilly’s attic.” Lainy rolled her eyes.

  “Oh yes. They’ve tried to rope us into helping with that project.” KC shook her head with vehemence before she raced after Ryan, who had seen something and took off.

  “Like we’re that stupid.” O’Riley’s daughter rolled her eyes.

  “I’ll take a look at some of those names, too,” Emma offered.

  “I’ll split the list three ways and send each of you a part.” Janine looked relieved. But tension knotted in Greg’s stomach. Why did that sound like a bad idea?

  And why did these women want to find John Morris?

  Greg heaved a silent sigh. The reasons for his returning home kept piling up. A gruesome picture of shackles and chains circling him, looking for an opening to grab and bind him kept taunting him.

  If this matter enchained him, he was as good as dead.

 

 

 


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