by Kaylea Cross
“Ladies,” Dr. Brownlee started, “I want to have a little chat with Cooper. If you don’t mind, I’ll meet you upstairs in a few minutes.”
Libby felt her heart lurch as Cooper nodded in agreement and wouldn’t look at her.
She grabbed his hand and he looked up. “You coming up later?”
“Not sure. I’ve got some things to arrange. Tomorrow’s going to be a very busy day.”
“Come say good night before you leave, then, okay?” She saw the faint smile as he leaned in and kissed her forehead—not her lips.
The women turned and aimed for the elevator, but just before entering, Libby looked at her father and Cooper, walking down the narrow, dark corridor towards the bar, side by side. She wondered if the two men realized they were both removing their ties at the same time. Even their gait seemed to be the same. Cooper was almost five inches taller than her father, but they both were lean and handsome. Their actions were so similar, they could have been mistaken for father and son.
* * *
Dr. Brownlee slumped into an oxblood-colored booth and Cooper followed behind and sat across the little table from him. The place was dark, lit by small votives. Some jazz was playing and the bar was barely one-third full. Signed, autographed photos of movie actors lined the wall above the shiny walnut wainscoting. Several colorful movie posters, encased in Plexiglas, were displayed between them. A cocktail waitress in a black, low-cut body suit was there in an instant. She leaned into Cooper and gave him a generous view of her rack.
“Hey there, sailor. What’s your pleasure?”
Cooper wondered how they always knew he was in the Navy. None of his tats showed. He didn’t want to ask. Brownlee was watching him.
“I’ll have mineral water, with some lime, if you don’t mind,” Coop said.
“Don’t mind at all. And you, sir?” She gave Dr. Brownlee a practiced smile. Libby’s dad cleared his throat and asked for Scotch. Neat.
Cooper noticed he didn’t order a double.
Brownlee folded his hands in front of him and fiddled with the cocktail napkin. He waited until they were served before he began. Coop wasn’t sure what was on his mind.
“First, you want to tell me about this?” Brownlee pointed to Cooper’s mineral water while he took a sip from the glass tumbler.
“Not much to tell, really. I prefer it,” Cooper lied.
“Sure you do. That’s why you watch me drink so closely.”
Cooper smiled and lowered his eyes to concentrate on the little bubbles traveling up his glass. Without looking at Dr. Brownlee, he nodded. “That obvious, huh?”
“You forget what I do for a living, son.”
“Would you stop calling me that?” Cooper pierced him with a stare he hoped the doctor would understand.
“You’re good at changing the subject, Cooper. But I get what you’re saying, and will try not to do it any more. I don’t mean to annoy you. You know that, don’t you?”
“Not really. I think you enjoy annoying me.”
Because I’m fucking the hell out of your daughter, and loving it. And she does too.
“You’ve got me wrong, Coop. So, maybe I better tell you a story. It’s about Will.”
Cooper wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it.
“He and I were the best of friends, more so than brothers, really. Very competitive in all ways. As a matter of fact, we thought if we didn’t get into college, we’d both try out for the Teams too.”
Cooper wondered why Libby had never told him this, and suspected it was because she never knew.
“I got accepted to Stanford with a scholarship, and Will didn’t. We’d have gone together, in fact, we’d have gone to the same school, if we could. But Will got the wrong letters. I went to college, and he enlisted in the Navy.”
Brownlee finished off his drink and indicated for another. “My folks were scared to death about us both going overseas and getting hurt. The war in Southeast Asia was over, but those were wonky times, men coming home not physically damaged, but mentally damaged. Just seemed like the whole world had exploded. Never knew who you could trust. Kinda like now.”
Cooper knew exactly what Brownlee was saying. He’d thought about the same thing.
“Yeah, first to enter, last to withdraw,” Coop whispered to his glass.
“Exactly. I wanted to be a doctor, so I did some volunteer work at the VA hospital in Palo Alto. Will did his medic training after joining the Teams. I saw all these young boys coming home—it was a shame how they were treated. The more I saw, the more I was convinced I’d be able to help.” Brownlee inhaled and then pushed out his breath, leaning forward on the table, moving his drink aside. “I tried to convince Will it was too dangerous. He kept telling me it was bad luck. But I kept it up.”
“No one would have been able to talk me out of it either, if it makes you feel any better. My folks just—” Coop couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Grenada. Botched operation in Grenada,” Brownlee said. “What a waste.”
“Which led to the intel they needed to get it right the next time. You know as well as anyone we learn from our mistakes.” Coop had heard it a million times. He’d said it a million times.
“I hated him for dying. I really hated him. Can you understand that?” Brownlee said, after a long pause.
“I do. I’ve felt the same from time to time. Lost my roommate in BUD/S, and I’ve lost others, too. It’s not something that ever gets easier. They lie about that.”
“The lingo for it is ‘survivor’s guilt.’ I’m here, falling in love, fulfilling all my dreams, and building a great practice. I was the lifeline for my parents until they passed. Will was always the golden boy who could do no wrong. He would always be remembered as the perfect son. And that’s because he just didn’t live long enough to screw up and disappoint them. He was remembered as being perfect, while I was merely human. Made no sense, though I tried to accept it. Just was his time to die.”
Cooper didn’t want to delve any deeper. What the hell did he know about all this psychobabble, anyway? “We all have that date, sir.”
“That’s a fact, Coop. And every night I come home and see his smiling face on the mantle.” Brownlee’s eyes teared up. “And every night, I wish it was me. I wish Will was the one living in this house, having a beautiful wife, a beautiful life. I often wish it was me they hauled all the way home to bury here in San Diego.”
Brownlee was getting very morose, and Cooper suspected it had more to do with the depressive effects of the alcohol than anything else. He was starting to feel very uncomfortable. He wasn’t so sure he should know all this.
“Where are we going with all this, sir?” he finally asked.
“Not sure, but I think an apology is in order.”
Cooper wasn’t sure he was hearing the doctor correctly.
“You don’t owe me anything, sir.”
“Oh, yes, I do. I’m sorry. Sorry for being an asshole. A royal asshole.”
They looked at each other for a long few moments, and then finally Cooper broke the gaze.
“You wanted to know about my not drinking,” Cooper began. “Well, I used to. I drank a lot.”
“Um hum,” Brownlee said softly.
“I was with a couple of my Team buddies. We were getting ready to ship out and we were tying one on at the beach. My friend got a ‘Dear John’ letter from home and, it pretty much tore him up. We got shit-faced.” The vision of that night came flooding in. He hadn’t thought about it for a good couple of years. He’d worked really hard to bury it. Deep.
“My friend wanted to go for a swim. He looked okay. But I knew I was in no shape to go into the water. We laughed at him, made jokes about it. He dove into the surf, and we didn’t see him for a long time.”
“He was a good swimmer, though? All you guys are. What happened?” Brownlee wanted to know.
“Found out later on he was allergic to shellfish, and we had it in the take-out we’d ordered. He had a reaction,
drowned in his own vomit. His body came rolling in like a discarded telephone pole. We worked on him until the paramedics arrived.”
“Nothing you could have done,” Brownlee said. “It was his time.”
“No it wasn’t. I might have been able to save him. Maybe it was what he wanted, but that wasn’t the point. He had to have known he was eating seafood. Or maybe not. I really don’t know. I was too shit-faced to keep him out of the water. Too trusting of his survival skills, even under impaired conditions. Too fucked up to realize he’d been in too long. We didn’t look out for him. We didn’t have his back.”
“I’m sorry, Coop. Really sorry about that.” Brownlee’s pained expression looked honest.
“I wasn’t the hero I thought I was. Ever since, I made a course correction and decided not another drop of alcohol. Ever.”
Brownlee rimmed the tumbler with his forefinger. There was a half inch left in his second round. He pushed it aside and looked into Cooper’s eyes, not even trying to hide the tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Life is pretty messed up, sometimes, isn’t it, Coop?”
“That it is, sir.”
“And then someone comes along, and makes you whole again. That’s what Carla did for me. I found her just in time, Coop.”
Cooper wasn’t going to say anything else. He was still staring at the unfinished drink. He knew it was Libby’ father’s way of saying he’d meet Cooper halfway. But Cooper would have to do the rest of the heavy lifting.
If they were all to survive this ordeal.
Chapter Thirty-two
Libby was trying to concentrate on a television program her mother was watching, but she found herself daydreaming, and hoping Cooper would want to spend the night. She knew he’d have to get back to take care of Bay. She’d left her dress and stockings on. So had her mother.
Both women stood when they heard the key card and then watched the door open. Dr. Brownlee looked tired, coming over to give his wife a hug. Cooper gave a boyish grin to Libby.
Thank God. All is well.
At least they appeared to be getting along, and that was a huge relief. Cooper had his shirt unbuttoned, and the back of his hair was mussed a bit, as if he’d been rubbing it. The dark blue of his suit matched his dusk-colored eyes. She could watch him forever, how he walked with that free-flowing style of a world-class athlete, slight hip movement and flat stomach muscles. And the best of all, he was walking straight to her, eyes fixed on her mouth.
That’s where they touched first. The kiss. Tender, careful, but needy. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he pulled her into him and he sighed into the side of her hair as he held her. She let him just hold her for several minutes.
And then it occurred to her. He wasn’t going to be spending the night with her. He was saying goodbye. Well, she was just going to have to live with it.
Her mother had gone off to the other bedroom, but her dad stood waiting for them to break their embrace. When Cooper turned, he kept his arm around Libby, his cheek upon the top of her head like he did so often.
Libby’s dad smiled. “Cooper and I have come to an understanding, I think,” her dad began.
“Yes, sir,” she heard Cooper say.
Dr. Brownlee walked over to the two of them and put his hand on Libby’s cheek. “So good to see you happy, Brownie.”
“Thanks dad.” Libby placed her hand over his and held it until he dropped it to his side.
“Coop?” Her father extended his arm and the two men shook hands. He stepped back. “Well, I’m off to bed. I’m exhausted.”
“Get some rest, doctor. We have a big day tomorrow,” Cooper said to his back.
Libby looked up at Cooper after the bedroom door closed. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve got a boatload of things to do tomorrow. I’m going to call it a night. Get some rest, for a change,” he winked at her. “And then get my gear and get set up at your house before dark.”
“Can I—”
“Libby, no. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Anything I can do to help?”
Cooper looked over at the Brownlee’s closed door. “Be here for your parents, Libby. Someone also needs to call your brother and alert them, just in case.”
“In case?”
“I have a hard time thinking this creep doesn’t know everything about your family. Everything. Not fair to leave any family member unprotected. You understand? We might not need to, but it would be very dumb if we didn’t alert them.”
“What about Riverton? He doesn’t want us to be around each other, until—”
“That’s my problem.” He kissed her forehead and then he placed his fingers under her jaw and lifted her face so he could place a kiss on her lips. “And it’s even a bigger problem—” he said as his lips brushed against hers, the lemon scent of his aftershave and the late-night stubble brushing against her cheek making her dizzy, “—if you don’t want me around.”
She had to smile at this. “Not a chance. You’ll have to pry my arms away before you can get out of this hotel room.”
He drew her in again and held her. “What am I going to do with you, Libby Brownlee?”
She had some definite ideas. “Anything you like, sailor.”
* * *
Cooper did want to spend the night with Libby in a decent-sized bed, even if her parents were two rooms away, but it wasn’t the smart thing to do. If he did his job right, they’d have lots of nights together.
But something else was changing, too. He felt protective not only of Libby, but the rest of her family as well. He realized it was something he had to do. Was born to do. He’d never gotten a chance to rescue his family in Nebraska.
It was just like AA’s Big Book said, accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. There were a lot of things he would change, including the death of his family and all the other good men who’d honorably served their country. But there wasn’t any point dwelling on it, while there was a war going on.
Some people who look like the enemy are not. Not everyone who helps is a friend. Well, he knew some guys he could definitely count on.
Cooper called Fredo on his way to give Bay some relief. He left a message about needing the truck for another day or two. Then he called his LPO, Kyle.
“I’m going for PT at oh-eight hundred, Coop. Meet you at the Salty Dog for breakfast?”
“Sounds good to me,” Cooper answered.
* * *
Fredo walked in first, followed by Kyle. The new guy came with them, and Cooper wasn’t sure he liked this at all. Cooper stood.
“Relax,” Kyle said. Malcolm nodded in agreement.
“Diversity and all that shit,” the new man said. “Nice to see you again, sailor,” He extended his hand.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone else, and this stuff’s kind of personal,” Cooper said back to Kyle. He addressed Malcolm. “No offense, but this isn’t much of a career building meeting, sir.”
“Roger that. Kyle here was talking about the stuff going on at your girlfriend’s house. Unfortunately, I’ve had some experience with this sort of thing. I’d like to help catch this guy, if you don’t mind. I hate bullies.”
Cooper considered how to respond. His LPO was going to let him make the call whether or not to include Malcolm in their plan. Trust was always an issue with a new Team Guy. But if Kyle had felt comfortable informing the new guy of the situation with the Brownlee family, that would have to be good enough for Coop. “Okay, but this is it. I’m telling Timmons, and no one else. I don’t care how much history you got with anyone else. No one else is gonna get involved, understood?”
“Perfectly,” Malcolm smiled with his brilliant set of huge teeth. “Only want to help. Minute I think I’m in the way, I go.”
Malcolm stood nearly as tall as Cooper. His frame was heavier, and he had shoulders like a body builder, not a Naval Academy officer, although those guys were
getting bigger these days. No more empty suit look where the hat came down over the eyes. He remembered one of the officers in BUD/S was usually first or second at everything physical, from timed swims in the inlet to running with full pack and combat boots on the beach. They were turning out animals, but smart animals. Guys you could believe in, and that was important.
Stupid warriors get themselves and everyone else killed. All his training could be summed up in one phrase, drum stupid out of your life.
“Please, sit,” Cooper motioned and then did so himself and worked on finishing his omelet.
“What are you needing, Coop? What’s on your list?” Fredo wanted to ask.
Cooper gave him the list he’d prepared earlier.
Fredo read it over, nodding. “I can help you with some of this. We got more of those little flag pins, too. Where are you going to hook up?”
“I think Brownlee’s study, and then probably Libby’s room, plus the master, maybe down in the kitchen. The adjuster will be done today, from what I understand, and it will be undisturbed until they settle and hire a contractor.”
Everyone nodded.
“So, I’d start upstairs. Probably Libby’s bedroom, the master. Focus on rooms that are most often occupied,” Kyle said.
“The two guest bedrooms are never used. And they’re upstairs, so I think no one would be climbing in the windows there,” said Coop.
“I got a new little speaker, Coop. We can boost the signal to outside the house,” said Fredo.
“We’ll need about three of them. And we need motion sensor night recording devices, too,” Coop said. “I’ve got to go gather some stuff at the warehouse I recently bought on eBay.
“No problem.”
Kyle asked another question, “You’re not going to do all the surveillance yourself, right? You can’t do it 24/7.”
“Hell, we’ve done it all the time. You know that.”
“I don’t want you taking all the risk. We’ll create a schedule, take turns.”
“As long as I get the lion’s share of those turns. I’m going to sleep at the house. They gave me permission.”
“Seriously?” Fredo asked.
