Save Me
Page 4
“Do you know anything about my grandmother?” I ask, hoping that Ryley may know something.
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“While we were deployed, Penny … Frannie wrote, well typed a letter saying that she had died. Knowing what we know about the lies, I guess I’m wondering if that’s even true.”
“I don’t. Frannie really never discussed you or Justin, once we buried you guys. After a while we stopped talking about you all together. It was too hard.”
Evan stands and starts pacing. His hands are pulling at the ends of his hair and he’s muttering to himself. There’s something on his mind, but he’s not ready to tell us about it yet. I’ve seen this from him before.
“Evan?” Ryley says his name only for him to hold up his hand. When he finally drops it, it’s a pissed off Evan Archer staring back at me.
“What?” I question, eager to know what he’s thinking.
“We have to find Frannie.”
“Isn’t she dead?” It’s more of a statement than fact. I think we’re all hoping she’s alive, but we don’t know.
He shakes his head. “I don’t believe she is and she has all the answers. She knows where Penny and Claire are.”
I stand slowly as I match his posture.
“Frannie sent you pictures of Claire. Hell, she sent you report cards with teacher’s comments. She’s either a fucking whiz on the computer with age progression, has some really deep ties, or knows where your wife is and is able to get pictures of Claire. I give Frannie a lot of credit, but she assumed the lives of so many people, writing out comments about Claire and not repeating herself would be almost impossible.”
As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. Frannie is the key, which ties everything together. But if the Feds haven’t found her, how will I? My resources are that of a gnat.
“Babe, did Frannie ever take vacations while we were gone?” Evan asks Ryley, who is now standing right along with us.
“Yes, although I don’t know if they’re vacations. But every couple of weeks she’d disappear, it was odd.”
“How so?” I ask.
“Well, it was like this … each day she’d come over for coffee or be there when I’d have a doctor’s appointment. Every couple of nights we’d have dinner, go to the movie, or do game night with Nate and Cara when they were still together. And then she’d say things like she’s going to visit her sister and niece, but when you went to her house there were never any pictures of anyone besides her and River. I know not everyone is like me and has pictures of their family everywhere, but I found it odd. And her sister never came to visit either, especially after River’s funeral.”
“That’s because she was probably visiting Penny and Claire,” Evan blurts out before I can get the words out of my mouth.
“I’m thinking the same thing, and if that’s the case, how do we find Frannie?” I ask, ready to do whatever I have to.
“I don’t think it’s a question of finding her, but drawing her out. I have a feeling she’s close by. The sociopath part of her wants to know what we’re doing. She had control over everyone’s lives for so long that she won’t be able to let go.” Evan seems so sure that it’s hard for me to doubt him.
“What are you suggesting?”
“You keep looking for Penny and Claire with your private investigator. I’m going to get someone who resembles Penny to make appearances in town and hope Frannie slips up.”
“Okay, say you’re right. What if you do that and she has Penny and Claire someplace and moves them? Or worse, hurts them?”
Evan’s face falls at my question and I don’t know if the thought of Frannie hurting Penny and Claire crossed his mind, but it should’ve—she hurt Ryley and her mom.
“Okay, so my James Bond technique needs some work, but we have to find Frannie and hand her over. And we need to find Penny and Claire, although I do believe that Frannie will lead us to Penny.”
“Why?” I question.
“Because our lives are nothing but a conspiracy and if we don’t think outside the box, we’ll never figure it all out,” Ryley says, stone-faced.
At night is when I feel the most alone. It’s the quiet calm that scares me. In my dreams I’m often running through bare hallways chasing the sound of Claire’s voice as she yells for help, only to find Tacito Renato with a bullet in the middle of his forehead, holding my daughter at knifepoint. Each time I try to step toward her, the floor gives way and I’m falling into a black pit of nothing.
The dream feels like its only minutes long, but it’s been hours since I’ve closed my eyes. And when I wake, I’m tired as shit and still hearing her voice. Every nine-year-old girl I see looks like Claire, even when she doesn’t. For days I sat outside her school on the off chance that Penny was still in town, ready to accept the fact that she wanted a divorce. I waited for my little girl to come down the stairs once the bell rang, hoping she’d see me and remember that I’m her daddy. Each day I was let down. And the next day I’d go to the next school and then the next, searching for my daughter.
I know Renato is dead. Archer killed him. It was the most beautiful shot I’ve ever seen him take. We had been searching for Abigail Chesley, and once we found her we stumbled upon Renato’s camp after finding a pile of little girl clothes not five to six hundred yards away. What we saw made us sick to our stomachs and before any of us could react, Archer leveled his rifle and put a bullet between his eyes. We had never heard of this guy until Abigail said his name, and from that point forward a shit storm ensued.
River was the one to radio it in, and we were told we could go home—only the extract didn’t come for us, only Abigail. We were ordered to find all the players in this sex ring we uncovered.
We weren’t supposed to kill Renato, which we learned after we finally came home. I think that triggered our downfall. Maybe the powers that be were thinking we’d kill ourselves, each other, or die before they brought us home and started asking questions. All I know is we were the ones who were supposed to end up dead. That seemed to be the story our families were told so why keep us alive? The risks far outweigh the rewards. Whoever is behind all this, whether its Senator Lawson, Admiral Ingram, or General Chesley, they’re keeping a dark secret that will destroy someone in power, a secret which frees the four of us—Archer, River, Rask, and myself—from this purgatory we’re living in.
I want all the answers given to me on a silver-fucking platter with my name engraved in gold. I deserve that at least. I’ve served my country. I’ve fought in wars protecting its freedom. It’s bullshit that the people who run the country I love so much are willing to shit on my team and me.
Going to bed angry is never my intention, and I find myself pacing the room I’m staying in. Evan and Ryley have opened their home and resources to me, helping me to find my family. Even the room I’m temporarily calling mine has pictures of Penny and Claire, giving me peace. I pray every second that they’re alive and waiting for me to come and rescue them.
The one person who can shed some light on all of this is Vice President Christina Charlotte, except she’s dead and no one is putting the pieces together. We were sent to retrieve her daughter, who Lawson had kidnapped, but Christina was killed before we came home. If that doesn’t reek of a cover-up I don’t know what does. General Chesley should be on our side. We saved his granddaughter, and brought her home to his son. Instead, he’s lurking on the base across the way from Archer’s house, coming in under the cover of darkness thinking no one will know. Maybe he’s the key to unraveling the mystery.
Tomorrow begins a new day, a new search.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING out here?” Evan’s voice is quiet against the night air. It’s different in Seattle than it is in Coronado; the air seems thinner. Maybe it’s because Washington doesn’t hold life-shattering memories for me.
“Watching.”
He sits down next to me, and pulls a second set of binoculars out from a bin by my chair. I don’t bother looki
ng in there to see what else he has, but I imagine he’s fully equipped to spy on Canada from here.
“How far is the beach from here?” I ask, wondering why he didn’t buy property with beach access.
“It’s a block or so. The rocks thin out quickly once you get around the bend over there. Ryley and EJ walk there almost every day. She can show you in the morning if you’re needing to get your fins wet.”
I laugh at his joke even if it’s not that funny. Being in the Navy we have plenty of opportunities to be in the water. The water is our friend, and when you’re trained like us, it’s easy to hide in.
Evan’s access to the ocean from his house is negated by a massive rock formation. It’s as if whoever cleaned the rocks away from the beach piled them here. The rocks are jagged and undoubtedly make climbing up to this house difficult. He’s chosen the best spot to watch the Navy and protect his family at the same time.
“How’s Nate?”
Evan sighs and leans back in his chair, kicking his feet out.
“Are you talking to him?”
“We talk. He and Ryley talk more, almost every day. I try not to let it bother me, but sometimes it does. I’m jealous of their relationship. Her and I have lost so much time, and it doesn’t matter how much time we spend together now, things are different.
“When Nate’s around, they’re always laughing. They have these stupid inside jokes and I hate hearing ‘remember when’ because whatever it is they’re talking about, it’s usually something that happened while we were gone. And don’t even get started on Nate and EJ.” He stops talking and shakes his head. “I’m grateful my brother was there for them, but sometimes I want to ask him to disappear for a year and let us be. Each time I think I’m about to have a breakthrough with EJ, Nate shows up. I know he doesn’t plan it, but there’s a part of me that thinks he does.”
Evan and I often complain about the shit we went though and easily forget about how our families suffered. Each of us is hurting in different ways, and while Evan was lucky enough to get his family back, Rask and I haven’t been. That poor kid—his parents won’t even speak to him, even though a simple DNA test will prove he’s their son. They refuse to acknowledge he’s alive and yet, he hasn’t given up hope. He says he calls them each Sunday, just as he did before we deployed. He tells me that he leaves a message because they don’t answer and is waiting for the day he’s met with the operator recording stating the number has been disconnected.
“Nate’s good, though. I need to accept that he did what he did out of love for Ry and me. Him being with Cara helps, though. And when he does show up here, she’s with him, so I’m not always on high alert when he’s around.”
Since I’ve sat down I’ve been watching a set of lights off in the distance. The boat’s activities are strange. From what I can gather, when it shuts its lights off it’s speeding into the Sound. When the lights come on, I have a feeling it’s looking to see if they’ve reached their destination. It’s as if they want to get wherever they need to be unnoticed. If this doesn’t reek of something illegal I don’t know what does.
“He’s still enlisted, right?” I ask, lifting the night vision binoculars to my face. Now that the boat is closer I can make out three people onboard. It’s nothing but a fishing trawler without fishing poles. Who takes a trawler out with no poles?
“Yep.” Evan lifts his binoculars. I have a feeling he’s looking at the same boat as I am. The Sound is quiet right now, except for this boat. “Cara wants him to retire. He wants to as well, but not until this mess is over. He’s joined the lawsuit Ryley filed against the Navy and says the bigwigs are fucking pissed, but he doesn’t care. He said losing me was the hardest things he’s ever gone though.”
“Worse than BUD/s?”
Evan chuckles. “Yeah, man, worse than BUD/s.”
“Shit, man, that’s hard.”
“Don’t I know it,” he says, as the both of us try not to laugh.
Laughing is rare for me these days, but when it does happen I appreciate the moment.
“What do you think is going on down there?” he asks, solidifying my instincts.
“Drug deal, Navy style.”
“What?” Evan scoffs.
“The lights are off now, and when they turn them back on I bet you the boat is parallel to us. They’re searching for something in the water, so either it’s a place to drop a body or they’re waiting for one to pop up. I said drugs because that would be the easiest for me to take right now.”
“No shit,” he mumbles as we watch the boat speed closer to us. “Man, why does everything have to be so fucked up? And why us? I mean, what the fuck did we do to deserve this?”
“I don’t know,” I mutter just as the boat’s engine shuts off. We both lean forward at the same time to watch whatever is about to happen unfold. The telltale sound of a bullet moving into the chamber has me looking at Evan.
“What the fuck?”
Evan doesn’t say anything as he rests his cheek on his rifle. He flicks the button that allows a red beam to project and steadies it on one of the men on the boat. Shouting ensues and the engine starts up. Their lights come on while they scramble for cover and speed out of the Sound. I shouldn’t laugh but it’s funny as shit.
“Dude?”
Evan shrugs as he puts his rifle down. “Just having a little fun.”
“What if they shot at us?”
He looks at me and I imagine his eyes are cold. “Then I shoot back. Pretty damn sure I’d hit them before they hit me.”
He’s right, but that’s not the point.
“Anyway, if it’s drugs, they need to find someplace else to smuggle. I don’t want that shit washing up on the shores where EJ plays.”
I nod, agreeing with him. “That was funny.”
As soon as I say it, Evan busts out laughing. Our moment of hilarity only lasts a few seconds before a hangar light comes on across the bay.
“That’s where Chesley likes to hang out.”
“He has a girl with him. She’s young,” I state, looking through the binoculars. Part of me is waiting for Evan to train his rifle on Chesley, but I know he’s not willing to do time, and I’m not willing to let him kill one of the men who can give us answers.
“Probably Abigail … the reason we’re in this mess.”
“I feel sorry for her,” I say out of nowhere.
“Me too. She gets kidnapped, raped, sent to Cuba to be a sex slave, then gets saved by us only to have her mother die. That kid is scarred for life thanks to Lawson.”
“Do you think Lawson killed her mother?” I ask.
“Yup, I do. Lawson is a sick fuck with all the answers. He started this shit and will likely die without telling a soul everything we want to know.”
Chesley and Abigail get into a car and it speeds off into the darkness. The rest of the Navy shipyard is quiet, except for a few sailors hanging around doing grunt work. It’s odd that no one was watching that trawler come in, in the middle of night. Unless, they were waiting for it and Evan scared it off.
When the sun peeks over the mountains, I stretch and yawn. I slept outside, finding it easier than sleeping in a bed. I don’t care how long I’ve been back, after living in the jungle for six years it’s hard to confine yourself to a box, regardless of how comfortable it is.
The bay is bustling with fishermen as they head out for their first or next catch of the day. I don’t know what time it is, but aside from needing to be close to the shipyard I understand why Evan loves this house so much. The way the sun casts an orange glow makes everything seem right in the world. I’ve heard that the Pacific Northwest has some of the most amazing sunrises and sunsets, and now I can confirm that. I could get used to waking up like this every day.
The sliding glass opens and Ryley steps out. She’s dressed in a Navy T-shirt and flannel pants with her hair braided. Behind me, EJ is knocking on the window, waving. He runs off, wearing nothing but his underwear and screaming at Evan.
“Sorry for sleeping out here,” I say after taking a sip of the coffee.
“Don’t be. Evan does it often. I understand.”
I nod a thank you, grateful that she’s not only willing to open her home to me, but she accepts me with all my odd habits.
“Marley called this morning and would like you to come to her office around nine. I have to head that way, so I was wondering if you’d like to drive in with me.”
My body tenses. It’s only been a day since I met with Marley and I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not that she wants to see me so soon. Ryley places her hand on top of mine and squeezes.
“It’s going to be okay, Tucker. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but it will. We’ll find Penny and Claire and bring them home.”
“Where exactly is home?” I ask, hoping my voice doesn’t break. The last thing I want is for Ryley, or anyone else for that matter, to see me cry.
“For right now, home is here. It doesn’t have to be a place, or specific house. Home is where you hang up your coat and kick off your shoes. Home is where you sit down for a nice meal, and if you have your friends surrounding you, it’s so much better. You are welcome here for as long as it takes, and so are Penny and Claire.”
“Thank you, Ryley. You’re a good woman.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not, Tucker. I’m a woman who lost, too, and I know what it feels like to not have somewhere to come home to.”
I look at her strangely wondering what she’s talking about. She smiles sweetly and leans back in her chair, pulling her legs up. “When Evan died, the house we shared didn’t feel like the one we had bought together. Everything about it was wrong. The paint wasn’t what we chose; the furniture wasn’t what we bought. I hated it. I hated everything about it, but I stayed because he had eaten off those dishes and had sat on that couch. I stayed because the bed that I slept in was the same one he did.”