“What?” Tucker gripped the cell so hard he actually saw the case bend in his hand.
“I decided to stay with them, to stay together. I didn’t want to be alone in that hotel. Figured I’d be safer with Brawley.”
“No, no, no! Dammit, Brandy. How am I going to get to you?”
“You can take a plane to”—he waited while she conferred with Brawley—“He says Salem would be the closest. You let us know, and we’ll come pick you up.”
“Put Brawley on the line.” Tucker was ready to explode.
“Hey, glad you’re back, bud.”
“You fuckin’ asshole. I asked her to stay put where they could keep an eye on her.”
“Wait a minute, Tucker. You’re exaggerating it all out of proportion. We’re fine. We’ve had a very whole day on the road. We’ve been able to gas up, get food. Everyone’s happy, Tuck. No stress here.”
“Brawley, can you put this on speaker?” Tucker begged.
“It’s not synced, but yes we’ve got you on speaker now. Brandy’s holding the phone up so we all can hear.”
“We’re working on a couple of leads, but we don’t have anything definite yet. Just clues, places we’re starting. We think we know the source. What that means for all of you is that you have to be very, very savvy about what’s going on around you at all times. Don’t make any unnecessary stops, don’t go shopping or wander away from each other or away from other people. Don’t allow strangers to get close to your car or to strike up a conversation. Keep your distance from everyone but stay in populated areas. You don’t want to be caught alone anywhere, in case you’re being followed.”
“You really think this could be happening?”
Tucker couldn’t believe Brawley was still in denial. “Always possible, Brawley. Until we find someone to detain. Please, please be careful. Since you’re halfway up there, I won’t demand you return to San Diego, but you took a big risk streaking out on your own. Brawley, you weren’t smart.”
“Look, Tucker, that’s B.S. First, we don’t really know if someone’s trying to cause us harm or just scare us. And they’ve done that. Best we’re out of the way completely so you guys can tear up the houses or lay in wait for a suspect to do something. But let’s be clear. No one has been harmed yet.”
“Yet,” repeated Tucker.
“When do you arrive in San Diego?”
“Early in the morning. Before sunlight. We’re waiting for our flight now.”
Brandy cleared her throat. Tucker felt the strain in her words. “Tucker, I’m sorry. I was so scared. There was no one to talk to. I didn’t see any of the people they said would be watching over us. I felt like I was totally exposed, and I had to take the only option I felt comfortable with. Please, it wasn’t an easy decision to make, sweetheart.”
“I understand.” Her words melted some of his anger, and he softened his voice. “I’m frustrated, too, because there’s nothing I can do. You probably made the right decision, in hindsight. Brawley will guard you with his life, as I would all of you. Just pay attention. Be smart from here on until I get there and we have this figured out and catch someone.”
“Thank you for understanding, Tucker.”
“Always, Brandy. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Any of you.”
He let that sink in, hoping they understood the gravity of the problem ahead of them. But then Brawley spoiled it.
“Any other tips you wish to share with us?” he said flippantly. Before Tucker could respond, Brawley quickly apologized. “Okay, that was unfair.”
“Damn right. I’ll call back when we’re back in San Diego. Go straight to Oregon. Don’t veer from the path. Stay together.”
“We will,” Brandy agreed.
Tucker added, “One more thing. Stay armed.”
Chapter 16
No one said a word as the day turned into evening. The I-5 California freeway was nearly deserted. Weather was dry and had started to cool from the heat of the day. They’d been on the road twelve hours when they came to the town of Redding, which lay at the bottom of the Shasta summit, a long desolate stretch of the highway very treacherous in the winter. But without rain or snow, it was easy for Brawley to go over ninety miles an hour, as he had during much of the I-5 stretch.
Brandy had switched seats with Dorie, who talked to keep Brawley awake. She was rooting for having them stay overnight some place, but Brawley was not having any of it.
Jessica had been chattering and awake for a large portion of the trip. They’d let her run around at their various pit stops before the call with Tucker. Now that they had been warned, their stops were quick and efficient.
But thankfully, Jessica was sound asleep when Brawley announced he needed to get gas and the large truck stop just south of Redding was full of truckers and cars going in both directions, clean rest rooms with showers, and a huge restaurant serving homemade pie. It was a trucker’s haven where they could use the internet, rent a computer and printer, drop off or pick up music CDs, videos and audiotapes. It even had a self-serve laundry and a twenty-four-hour diesel mechanic. So at midnight, it was probably the busiest stop between Sacramento and Eugene.
“How’s your bladder?” Dorie asked her.
“Probably not as bad as yours is. You go first. Both of you go. I’ll stay in the car with Jessica.”
Brawley handed her the keys. The couple walked arm in arm to the restaurant as Brandy adjusted herself, anxious to get out and stretch. But, as promised, she kept the windows and doors locked.
She should have told them to have a shower, a little alone intimate time together. She knew Dorie could use some warm water and loving kisses. Brawley was probably stiff as a board from all the driving. He was as stubborn as Tucker was and, though Brandy had offered several times, refused to even take a short nap, allowing someone else to drive.
She looked at her feet and found a plastic bottle with about an inch of water left. She sipped it down then allowed her hips to slide over the vinyl seat so her head could rest on the back. Her knees hit Dorie’s bucket seat ahead of her. She planned on taking a long, long nap and then volunteer to spell Dorie again so she could do her part to keep Brawley awake and mentally occupied. The energy drinks he was knocking down practically non-stop were helping, but soon, he was going to have to get some real rest. She guessed he’d be purchasing some 5-Hour Energy concentrate inside.
Cars lined up on one side of the pumps, the large rigs on the other. Occasionally, an idiot driver would take up a whole lane and make the huge trucks wait for him to get his diesel from the truck side. But by and large, it was an orderly transition with people washing the bugs off their windshields and checking their tire pressure in between their fill ups. There was a drive-through vehicle wash in both sizes—one for trucks and one for passenger vehicles, which was operating non-stop.
While Brandy watched a couple of truckers with matching beer bellies sharing a soda, and waiting for their rigs to fill, a bright green truck with a black carpenter’s rack pulled ahead and parked parallel to Brawley’s truck. Two lanky youths exited the truck and peered at the restaurant with binoculars, sharing them back and forth, pointing.
She’d seen that truck before, she was sure of it. Blinking several times, she finally remembered seeing it on Brawley’s block when the two of them were inside gathering their additional things before the trip. What were the odds the same identical truck would be way up here in Redding, stopped at the same rest stop?
The odds were too great to calculate.
She tried to dial Brawley, but he didn’t pick up. When she dialed Dorie’s phone, the cell chirped in the front of the cab. With barely any battery left she tried to dial 911 and her phone died before it could connect.
She continued to watch the men as she started to type a text to Brawley, but again her phone’s screen went black. Then one of them pulled a rifle from the cab and balanced it on the roof. He was lining up a shot.
Brandy knew she only had seconds. Sc
rambling, she nearly fell from the back seat, gripped the passenger side door handle, ripped it open, and lunged into the front of the cab. She pressed on the glove box, and it didn’t open. She used a fist and banged on the metal flap. Again, although it was now dented, it didn’t open.
Jessica was stirring. She was directly in the line of sight between the youth with the rifle and the toddler. She’d have to distract him, make herself a target to keep Jessica safe. She took a darting glance at the restaurant entrance and still didn’t see Dorie or Brawley.
One last time, she kicked the glove box, and finally, it gaped open like the tongue of a robot. She clutched the police special and found it lighter than she was used to. Her hands were shaking so hard she nearly dropped it on the asphalt.
The youth with the rifle was using his scope, fixing on something inside the restaurant. With adrenaline pumping full force, almost enough to make her explode, she held the gun at her side, like she’d seen Tucker do many times.
“Hey!” she yelled, moving to the right, waving her arms above her head. “Are you looking for me?”
Several pedestrians nearby scurried out of the way, and one woman shrieked and ran inside the building, dropping packages behind her.
The two boys whipped around to face her. Their eyes squinted in the overhead lights. The boy on the right began to reach behind him. The one on the left repositioned his rifle—bringing it up to his eye, taking slow, careful aim—while the other began running directly toward her and briefly blocked the shot. She knew what the kid was reaching for because she was doing the same thing herself. But she’d practiced this many times at the shooting range with Tucker. She’d shot with the other wives when they first were dating. It all came surging back to her.
With a last glance at the building’s entrance, she took one more leap to the right, away from the truck, raised Brawley’s police special from her side, just as she saw the revolver appear in his right hand. Brandy aimed slightly low to the boy’s body mass, preparing for recoil like she’d been trained, and pulled the trigger.
She heard Brawley scream and items hit the pavement, but she didn’t see him. Her focus was on the trajectory of her round, which lodged in the boy’s forehead. The kid with the rifle took a quick shot in her direction, but it went wide to her right and cracked a windshield behind her. Brandy returned fire, and again, her aim was true. It caught him right in the center of his chest, and he dropped.
That’s when she heard the screaming, and for a second, she wondered what they were yelling at. Someone tackled her hard, but he was soon pulled off by the angry Brawley, who drew her to his chest in a tight bearhug. She leaned against him like a limp rag and tried to breathe. On the third try, she squeaked, with just enough energy to punch Brawley in the chest.
“I can’t breathe!” she gasped, and immediately, he released the pressure, but kept his arms wrapped around her, not letting her fall.
That first delicious inhale felt so good. Then everything turned black.
Chapter 17
Tucker got the call as soon as they landed in San Diego. Sven told him Riley had secured a private jet to get him up to Redding as fast as possible. Collins confirmed the Navy granted him the time to go bring Brandy back. Kelly and Jenna had arrived in Portland for the reunion with a very grateful Mr. Riley.
Brawley met him at the Redding Jetway terminal alone. He explained his wife and daughter were at the hospital with Brandy.
“When you’re up to it, Tucker—”
“I’m not up to it.”
“She was amazing. Talk about grace under fire. Just sayin’.”
“Not fuckin’ now.”
Tucker had been told about the shootout, of course. He didn’t doubt for one minute she was capable of heroic behavior, but he still needed to see her for himself. He knew she would be okay, but he wanted to make sure she understood that this would never happen again. He never wanted her to be in harm’s way like this.
He’d done lots of thinking during his long plane trips home and was on the verge of making some big decisions, based on Brandy’s frame of mind. He was done with the texting, the Facetime calls, the writing in journals to let her read perhaps some day after he was dead. He was done with it all.
Everything revolved around her. If something had happened to her, if she’d sacrificed herself to save Jessica or to protect Dorie or Brawley, he would be inconsolable. He’d be a shell of the man he once was. And this was too close. Way too close. He couldn’t ask this of her ever again.
He and Brawley had formed a kind of mental bond during their growing up years and it was still there right now, even though they didn’t say a word. He was furious at his best friend for allowing his wife to get in the middle of something she had no right to be involved in. At the same time, he knew Brawley had just done what he thought best. She was the one who chose. Thank God it worked out.
He’d loved Brawley like a brother. They shared everything together in those days playing against each other in basketball, soccer, and baseball. They shared unmentionable bad dates, and great first dates, breakups and heartaches. Brawley was there for him when he got divorced, when he thought he’d never have a woman again by his side. Now look at him. Now the both of them were expecting babies. It was another life event he shared with Brawley.
And though Brawley couldn’t be on the last mission they completed, he’d been there during the first part of it. He’d gotten it kicked off. By accident, Brawley had created the bait that allowed the elimination of the bad guys.
Everything in his life was connected to Brawley. Brandy relied on him, trusted him. He’d made sure she knew where the gun was or the outcome would have been much different. Everything contributed to the result that had the possibility of a happy ending.
After all was said and done, what he thought of Brawley’s decision or Brandy’s lack of following directions was small potatoes compared to what was really important. They were all safe. They would make it out together, alive. Even the unborn babies would be safe. Life would go on, as long as he protected it. That’s what he’d commit the rest of his life to doing.
Brawley drove carefully, as if juggling him around in the cab of his big truck would cause him to explode. But Tucker knew he wasn’t that fragile. His conscience was beginning to irritate him. It was time to make his peace.
He glanced over at Brawley, who gave a tiny smile Tucker could see in profile. His eyes remained pinned to the road.
“You know what really bothers me more than anything, Brawley?”
“I think I have a pretty good idea.”
“I couldn’t control any of it. Not one fuckin’ thing. No one did what I asked. And yet, somehow, everything worked out.”
“Well, you have the little issue of a hearing on the shooting, but I think she’ll be cleared, don’t you?”
“I’m not even thinking about that.”
“I know. I’m just as much at fault as you are, Tucker. Going all big man at the flea market. You did hear the story, didn’t you?”
“I think I missed it.”
“When Collins asked Jackie about that day, the terp remembered having conversations with an older couple at the flea market. They compared their immigration process. The couple made their living selling things from their West African heritage, and were very excited about becoming Americans, just like Jackie. The one thing they had a problem with were their two youngest boys, both radicalized by recent trips overseas. The boys were caught up in some false idea they were freedom fighters. He remembered they were distressed the boys were out of control. Just as they feared, the investigators found out the boys were being groomed for something very public and very big, a massive show of force against the Navy.”
“I feel sad for them. How is that possible, Brawley? Does that make me a wimp?”
“Because you’re a decent human being. Because you’re trying to help the innocents get away from being preyed upon. If you weren’t a man with honest feelings, you’d kill wi
th a coldness that would repel anyone who knew you. You’re not that guy. You care about people. And you find home with others who live as intensely as you do.”
Tucker thought about all that. “You do a pretty good job of buttering someone up, Brawley.”
“If you’re saying you’re strong enough to accept the truth about yourself, well then, yes. You could call it buttering you up.”
The Redding hospital was straight ahead, perched on a hilltop overlooking the deep green valley forged by the Sacramento River. They parked near the Emergency entrance and Brawley walked Tucker past the nurses’ station to the rear elevator and up to the third floor.
He stopped to address his best friend before entering Brandy’s room. “For the record, Tucker, I’m sorry. I made a mistake, and it almost cost me the life of my best friend’s wife. That’s unforgiveable, but I’m still asking for it.”
Tucker grabbed Brawley and the two hugged because there wasn’t anything else that could be said or done.
“I appreciate that, Brawley. Now, tell me what I’m getting into.”
Brawley put his hands on his hips. “Nope. I’m going to let you walk in cold and figure it out for yourself.”
She was sleeping with Jessica tucked into her arm. Tucker didn’t think he’d ever seen her so beautiful, even though it appeared she’d roughed up her face a bit. He was going to have the ass of the person who did that to her, if he was still alive.
Her long hair had been brushed and wasn’t the usual tangle on the pillowcase he was used to seeing. Dorie was bent over on the wheeled table that held her water. She was also fast asleep.
He turned to let her sleep, when Brandy opened her eyes and gave him a big smile. Her expression changed as her hand came up and felt the bandage that had been placed there.
In two long strides, he was at her bedside, suddenly ashamed he hadn’t brought her anything like flowers she so richly deserved.
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