Seth (In the Company of Snipers Book 17)

by Irish Winters

  Scottie’s head came up. “You know George? He and Gru’s my best friends.”

  Dev winced as her gaze connected with Seth’s over the top of her son’s head. She still had to explain George’s stroke and now Gru’s death to her son, though she’d never divulge the gruesome details.

  Seth must’ve noticed. “Why don’t you and me play ball when this is over? You do own a baseball and mitt, don’t you?”

  “Course I do,” Scottie crowed. Tipping his head to the side, he peered up at Dev. “Can I, Mom? Is it okay if I catch some flies with Seth?” He was proud of the baseball phrase he’d learned watching the World Series.

  She tousled his soft, blond hair. “With Seth, yes, but keep inside the backyard. Maybe I’ll come out and play, too.”

  That did the trick. A grin split his cute little face, and off Scottie went to get those important blankets. Dev thanked Seth with her eyes as she went to assist her houseguests.

  Seth took a seat on the floor and leaned against one end of the couch, still holding the little girls who looked like they had no intention of letting him go. His eyes kept track of her as she came and went. Just knowing that he watched, gave Dev an added bounce to her step.

  The women were quiet, all seated on the floor or the fold-up chairs that Dev had bought, one by one, when she could afford it, from the Bargain Basement over on Palm Street. Scottie ran back and forth, dragging more blankets and helping Dev distribute them. One woman faced the corner and sobbed quietly. A couple whispered thank you and gracias, but most just stared and waited.

  Cord looked uptight. Worried. He hadn’t left the blonde’s side.

  Trish finally showed up with her first-aid kit and promptly knelt with him. “She needs a doctor, Cord. I can only do so much.”

  “Then call your friend,” he bit out. “But no hospital. Not yet.”

  More words Dev couldn’t hear were exchanged, until Cord lifted to his feet and walked away, but something was up. This woman was different. Who was she and why did Cord look so—guarded? The man glowed like a nuclear reactor about to implode.

  Dev honestly didn’t have time to worry about that, so she filed it away for later. For now, she had a room full of people to feed, more sandwiches to make, and all before she left for work. Seth shot her a handsome wink as she headed for her kitchen. What a way to start the day.

  Seth had to give Devereaux and her brother credit. They seemed to know what they were doing and how to comfort a house full of strangers. Even Scottie ran, first to get more blankets, then waiting on ‘the ladies’—as he called them—retrieving bottles of water or one more sandwich, por favor. Not once had he whined or complained that he’d rather go outside and play.

  The poor women were hungry, and more than a couple showed definite signs of hysteria and traumatic stress. Seth understood those things, so once the twins fell asleep on the blanket he’d arranged on the floor for them, he went quietly from woman to woman, being careful not to touch them and keeping his voice low. Making no sudden moves. Just asking if they were warm enough, or if they needed one of the generic OTC medications Devereaux had on hand. Over and over, he assured each woman that he’d gladly get whatever they needed. All they had to do was ask. He was there to serve.

  Another man with a large black bag and a backpack slung over his shoulder showed up within the hour. A doctor. The stethoscope dangling around his neck gave him away. Cord hustled him off to where he’d moved the blonde with a terse, “Right this way.”

  Done with her cursory examination of the other women, Trish followed Cord down the hall. It was nearly two hours later when he escorted his doctor friend to Devereaux’s front door with a muttered, “I’ll be in touch.”

  “See that you are,” the doctor told him. “This damage is serious.”

  When the kind people from Family Services arrived just after noon, the little girls were still sound asleep. Cora Blair led the way, her sidekick, a tall, mousy woman with Harry Potter spectacles, on her six. Both women took over with ease, and for that Seth was glad. Most likely, he’d never see these poor women again, but knowing they would be in capable hands helped.

  He’d watched Devereaux interact with them, and everything she did, she’d done with extreme gentleness. In fact, she seemed perfect for this task, much like the respectful flight attendant he remembered from years ago. Not once had she mentioned how hard she’d worked to make all the sandwiches that disappeared like candy when the women arrived. No sir. She just kept making more sandwiches, emptying her cupboards, and serving her house full of sad strangers.

  Her generous nature tugged his heartstrings. Devereaux might have a mountain of problems nipping at her heels, and for certain she lived on a shoestring, yet here she was, a smile on her face while these women ate her out of house and home.

  “Ladies,” Cora called out. She and her assistant stood ready at the door. “The bus is waiting. Shall we go?”

  Wearily, the women lifted to their feet and followed her. But saying goodbye to two sleepy girls? Damned hard. Seth had promised their father he’d personally take care of them, but that wasn’t possible, neither was it encouraged. He knelt on the floor. Both girls snuggled into him like they had nothing more to worry about, and of course, his arms circled them just like he’d done on his uncle’s dock. Emma blinked those pretty eyes up at him, and his heart got stuck in his throat.

  “Your daddy’s got my phone number,” he told her to soften the pain in his chest, “and once you get home, you call me anytime you want. Day or night. I’ll always be there for you girls.”

  Her bottom lip stuck out. Maddie buried her face in his shirt, hiccupping and scared again. He was sad too, but for them, not himself. While they’d been kidnapped, and heaven knew what else, he’d been stuck in a never-ending pity party, lost between booze and depression. Well, no more.

  He lifted those little angels with him as he got to his feet. “You be brave, Emma and Maddie Ward, because you’re soldiers now, just like me. You’re going home to your mommy and daddy, and once you hug and kiss them and cry all over them, you tell them that you’re stronger than those bad guys that took you. Tell your parents that you’re the winner because you’re alive and you’re free. Can you do that for me?”

  Emma’s head bobbed against his neck, and hell. Seth knew he was probably talking over their heads, but he needed to instill a sense of victory in these little waifs before he gave them up. They were strong. They would be okay. They just had to be smarter than him and keep on keeping on. They had to believe in themselves.

  Out of the blue, Maddie circled his neck and squeezed. “You’re gonna be okay, too,” she whispered. “I’ll tell Mommy and Daddy what you said.”

  Out of the mouths of babes. Seth gave the girls one last heartfelt hug, and just in time, Miss Spectacles stepped up and relieved him of Emma, while Cora Blair secured Maddie under her arm. The girls didn’t take their eyes off him until they were out the door and safely sequestered in the rear of the van with another social worker.

  Struggling with yet another loss, Seth followed along with Devereaux and Scottie. They paused at the walk just short of the curb where the Family Services bus parked, its doors opened wide to receive its passengers. He couldn’t see the twins, and that was just as well. They didn’t need another emotional farewell any more than he did.

  Rhonda Malevich gave Devereaux a tiny wave when she set foot on the lowest step. Then they were gone in a puff of diesel fumes. All except for the woman Cord had secreted in one of Devereaux’s bedrooms.

  “What’s up with your brother?” Seth asked as he escorted Devereaux back inside.

  “Uncle Cord’s got another girlfriend,” Scottie drawled.

  “Hush, Scottie. That’s not nice,” Devereaux scolded.

  “So, who is she and why’s she still here?” Seth had to know.

  Devereaux shrugged. “That’s what I’m going to find out.”

  Chapter Twelve

&n
bsp; After securing the plethora of locks at her front door, Devereaux headed straight for her bedroom, hers if Seth guessed right.

  “Wanna help me pick up?” Scottie asked, his bright blue eyes alive with expectation.

  “Sure,” Seth told him easily. Why not? Devereaux had to leave for work soon. It was the least he could do.

  Scottie ran to the kitchen and returned with a black garbage bag. He draped one edge of it over the back of a fold-up chair and commenced gathering plastic bottles, plates, and other debris. The bag was nearly stuffed full when he looked at Seth and exclaimed, “I almost forgot!” before he bolted out the kitchen door.

  Fear pumped an overdose of adrenaline straight into Seth’s heart. He cleared the kitchen on a dead run to the corner of Devereaux’s fenced-in yard, but he was too late. A large wire cage filled the corner and inside that cage, an amazing habitat of strategically placed logs, a cut-off piece of garden hose, a tiny waterfall that dropped to a careful arrangement of smooth stones. In the nearest corner, a large flat rock caught the afternoon sunlight.

  But no iguana.

  Scottie stood there sobbing, his chest heaving. The pool of dried black blood just outside the habitat stopped Seth cold. This was where Gru had lived and died. And now Scottie knew. Shit.

  He turned on Seth, his blue eyes brimmed and blinking. “My lizard’s gone. Look.” He pointed to the blood. “He’s hurt, and he needs me and you gotta help me find him.”

  Seth looked at Scottie. Scottie looked at Seth. Words were utterly useless. Seth dropped to one knee and said, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Scottie. He’s… Gru’s not hurting anymore,” was all Seth could think to say.

  “But I can help him,” the boy cried. “Hurry. Come with me. Help me look! We gotta find him before he crawls out to the street. He might get runned over.”

  “No, Scottie. He won’t get to the street. Gru’s…” Damn, how to say this? “…dead, son.”

  “But why? Was he sick? Is he at the vet? Mama took him to see Dr. Lawrence one time when he got a tummy ache.”

  Seth held out his hands to Devereaux’s son. “Come here, little guy.”

  “But I took real good care of him,” Scottie whimpered, rubbing his nose into Seth’s shirt. “And we used to play hide and seek, only he wasn’t very good at finding me.” A man-sized shudder racked his body. “And now I got no one to play with when Mom’s working, and I’m sad, Mr. Seth. I’m really, really sad.”

  Ah, shit. Seth scooped the boy up and turned his back on the tragic scene. Devereaux hadn’t had time to hide the evidence, but this wasn’t her fault. She’d been busy caring for the women. Sly Valentine was the problem, and he had a war coming his way, the bastard.

  Devereaux burst through the kitchen door then, her hand to her mouth. When Seth shook his head, she flung herself around him and the boy. “Scottie, baby. I’m sorry. Gru died and…” Her words got stuck in her throat, and suddenly, Seth was holding a woman and her son while they cried against him.

  Lowering his butt to the single step outside her screen door, he settled in for the storm. While Scottie sobbed, Devereaux seemed to need her hands on her son as if she could erase what had happened to their beloved pet. Over and over, she stroked her fingers through his sweaty head until Seth caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “Enough,” he whispered. “This is hard but let him be a man. Your son’s tougher than you think.”

  She lifted her teary face to him. “But I’m not.”

  Seth kissed her forehead. “Oh, yes you are, Devereaux Shepherd. You are the epitome of your last name. You’re the fiercest shepherdess I’ve ever seen in my life and trust me. I’ve been to Afghanistan. I’ve seen a few shepherdesses who had no problem nailing a jackal with a few well-placed stones if it came near their flock.”

  She stilled, her arms around her son and Scottie’s head against her breasts now. Dipping her lips to Scottie’s hair, she kissed him, but the nervous hands had ceased their frantic petting.

  Scottie lifted his chin and looked Seth in the eye. “I love my Mom,” he told him.

  I’m starting to love her, too, Seth thought, but he said, “That’s because you’re a good man, Scottie Shepherd, and good men take care of our women, don’t we? We love them with all our hearts.”

  The boy’s head bobbed. “And we bring her coffee in the morning when she’s sad and we put lots of cream and sugar in it just like she likes it, huh?”

  I’d certainly like the opportunity. Seth cocked his head at this little charmer. Already Scottie had been taught to think of others. “And sometimes we clean up the place when she’s too tired at the end of the day.”

  Still shivering, Scottie swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, cuz my mom’s a good mom and I hafta take care of her, cuz Uncle Cord can’t always be here.” Another sniff and he swiped a brave fist under his nose.

  “You think your mom needs one of those cups of coffee now?” Seth asked, content to hold these two as long as he could.

  “Ah-huh,” Scottie murmured, his lips pinched into a pout. “And then I gotta find Gru and make sure he’s okay, cuz he’s bleeding.”

  Oh shit. Devereaux whimpered and burrowed her face into Seth’s neck, and that was okay. He knew what to do. Setting her on the step at his side, he shifted Scottie to one thigh where he could tell him the bad news. “Gru’s not hiding, Scottie. He had an accident late yesterday and he died. Do you know what that means?”

  Scottie’s sad blue eyes flooded again. “Uh-huh.”

  But he didn’t. Not really. “It means he’s up in heaven with some of my friends.”

  “He is?”

  Seth nodded as wisely as an old soldier could. The concept of death was easier to explain when cushioned with stories of friends who’d gone on before, men who’d honestly loved, brothers who’d fought their damnedest to keep you alive, a loving fiancée, and, oh yes, the eternally annoying Latoya Franklin, God bless her wayward heart.

  Somehow, the image of his bossy nemesis dealing with an iguana in heaven brought a smile to Seth’s heart. He’d lay nine-to-one odds that Latoya would squeal, turn tail, and run for her ghostly life, never to haunt him again. Tipping Scottie’s chin up with his finger, Seth told him what every soldier tells another. “Good lizards never die, Scottie. They just fade away.”

  The little tyke glanced around the yard. “You mean he’s hiding?”

  Seth pointed that same finger skyward. “In heaven. Gru’s hiding in heaven.” That seemed to do the trick. With a grunt, Seth lifted to his feet and swung the boy up high on his shoulder, where he landed with a subdued giggle. Better days were coming. They just weren’t here yet.

  Devereaux shot him a coy smile as she swiped a finger under her teary eye. “That was very kind and thoughtful. Thank you, Seth.”

  He shrugged her praise off and said, “Come on, Mama. Let’s get you that cup of coffee.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dev kept Scottie on her lap. The house was quiet. Seth and Cord were in her backyard, cleaning out Gru’s habitat. She had less than a half hour before work, but the Conch Shack was a straight shot from her place if traffic complied. If not… Well, she’d been late before.

  Cord had wanted to run right out and buy Scottie another iguana to replace Gru, but Dev told him no. Life shouldn’t work that way. Death was hard, but to trade one life for another as if livings things were replaceable wasn’t the lesson she wanted Scottie to learn. So she rocked him and let him be a sad little boy a while longer. Another pet would come along, and she’d take it in then. Just not now.

  For a four-year-old, he’d seen too much, and today was no different than many others she’d put him through. Things had to change, yet the thought of what those poor women and girls had endured in Roland Montego’s prison always kept Dev in the game. She’d been in their place. She knew how awful Montego was to the girls and women he favored. Turning her back on them wasn’t an option.

  Until this excursion into Cub
a, things had gone smoothly. Cord handled the infils, as he called them. Miguel handled the exfils, which meant he stayed with the CRRC while Cord and his buddies infiltrated Roland Montego’s lair and returned with as many victims as they could. She’d never gone with Cord on his forays, just supplied a resting place for the women when he returned. This was the first time gunplay had been involved, which meant Roland Montego had known Cord and his men were coming. The thought of all she could’ve lost slayed Dev. Hence Scottie wasn’t going anywhere without her.

  But now she wondered. Where were the other former Marines who usually traveled with Cord? Why hadn’t they accompanied him to Dev’s house? Where were Stevie “Wonder” James, Ryland “Sonic” DeLorenzo, and Cleveland “Rabbit” Miller? Not that they always came home with him, but what was Cord thinking, keeping one of those women? The blonde should’ve gone with Family Services where she’d be properly cared for, her injuries documented, and her family notified. The nerve.

  “I want Gru,” Scottie whined, his ear pressed to Dev’s heart.

  “Me too,” she told him honestly. “Remember when Goldie died?”

  “Ah-huh,” Scottie sniffled. “You think Gru’s in heaven with her?”

  “I’m sure of it. All animals go to heaven, especially iguanas. So do goldfish.” Only mankind had to work his ass off to gain entrance. Which was fair. He was the sinner.

  Goldie was Scottie’s first pet. She hadn’t lasted long once Scottie decided she needed the entire can of fish food for breakfast. Instead of flushing her, Dev had held a simple funeral before she and Scottie buried Goldie beneath the Gumbo Limbo tree straddling Trish and her backyards.

  “Will I get to see him and Goldie again?”

  “Yes,” she told him wistfully. But not until you’ve lived a very, very long time.

  “I like Mr. Seth,” Scottie mumbled through a tremendous yawn. “I tired, Mama.”

  Thankful that little boys were easily distracted, Dev pressed her nose to her son’s head, breathing his scent into her soul. She still used baby shampoo on his fine, straight hair, and the smell never failed to remind her how blessed she was, and how that one night’s indiscretion had resulted in the greatest treasure in her life. “Me, too. Let’s go read a quick story before I leave for work.”