The Soldier's Wife

by Sirena N. Robinson

  Heels ringing on the tile floor, she made her way back around to her office, stopping when she saw an unfamiliar man speaking to Halle.

  “Is there a problem?”

  Halle looked up from the computer. “Hey, Beck. This gentleman wanted an appointment with you. I was just telling him you’re booked into next week.”

  Beckett appraised the man, taking in the slick suit, shiny shoes, and dark hair swept back from an angular, handsome face. Rich brown eyes shone in deeply tanned skin. A glimmering gold and diamond watch sparkled on one wrist, and the chain from a pocket watch hung from one of his pockets.

  “I have a few moments now. Please, step into my office. I’ll be right with you. Halle, won’t you get our guest a cup of coffee? How do you take it?”

  The man spoke with a thick South American accent. “Black.”

  Halle rose to get coffee and Beckett bent, scribbling what she hoped looked like her signature on a piece of paper. Instead of her name, she scrawled “Call police. Tell them Malatoa here.”

  Standing, she offered a smile to the man hovering near the door. “Halle will be right along with your coffee. Come in and have a seat.”

  Settling behind the desk, Beckett waited to speak until after Halle had brought in cups of coffee for them both. Adding sugar and cream to hers, Beckett leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, trying to keep her appearance casual.

  “I’m sorry, but I didn’t get your name.”

  The man sipped his coffee. “Your girl makes nice coffee, Mrs. McKenzie. My name is Raul. I believe you know why I am here. Jason Robbins has reason to believe you have the money owed to my family. I’ve come to make sure you understand stealing from us is an unacceptable thing.” He reached into his jacket and withdrew an envelope. “I see you have family here, a beautiful business, and a nice house of your own. These things do not come cheaply. Surely you must have gotten the funding somewhere.”

  “The bank.” Beckett spoke dryly. “I’m mortgaged up to my eyeballs on this stuff. There’s no money. There never has been. Until Jason Robbins showed up at my door, I believed my husband was dead. I didn’t know about you or Jason or anything Ryan was involved in up until that point.”

  Raul sipped more coffee. “My family is very powerful. Your husband owes my family five million dollars. His debt is your debt. You will pay it, or people close to you will pay.”

  For the first time, fear flickered in Beckett’s chest. “Killing people isn’t going to change the fact that I don’t have it and don’t know where it is. I found six bricks of cocaine in his safety deposit boxes which I turned over to the police. I don’t know if that’s five million worth, but if it is, it’s gone. If you think I’m rich, I’ll show you my bills. I’m broke.”

  Raul finished the coffee and placed the cup on the desk, rising and buttoning his jacket. “Mrs. McKenzie, I’m a reasonable man. I give you until Christmas to pull together the money. Three weeks, then I rip your children into tiny pieces and mail them to you. Six bricks is a tenth of what your husband stole from us. You find it, or you pay for it. Mr. Robbins led us to you, and for that he will be rewarded. For failing to bring us the money, he will be punished. Trust me when I tell you that you do not want to be punished. I suggest you start looking for the funds.”

  Beckett watched Raul leave the office and waited until she saw him exit the building. Leaning over, she grabbed her trash can and vomited.

  ****

  Clint Rogers carefully bagged the coffee mug Raul had used. Looking at Beckett, his eyes shined with sympathy. “If he’s ever been arrested, we’ll have his identity within twenty-four hours. I’ll get the boys in the lab in Portland to pull some prints off this and run them through the database. DNA, too, though that’ll take a while longer. I’ll drive it down there myself. How long had he been gone when I got here?”

  “Five minutes, maybe less. Halle didn’t get my note right away, so by the time she called you, he was on his way out the door. I don’t know quite what to do here, Sheriff. I’ve had crazy felons showing up at my house, cartel members showing up at work, and someone broke into my house and knocked Murphy out. Add in all this business with Ryan and the drugs, and I’m in a hell of a spot. There’s a part of me that wants to pack a suitcase and get on a plane for Alaska or some other really remote place. Siberia, maybe. I hear it’s nice this time of year.”

  The sheriff sighed and tucked the bag with the mug into his satchel. “Beckett, you’ve been nothing but cooperative in this whole thing. I’m going to bring in the FBI agents on what happened here, and we’ll need copies of your surveillance to get eyes on this guy. I’m going to try and get an armed guard on you at all times. Sitting out front here, and in front of your house when you’re there. Have you filled out the application for your concealed carry permit yet?”

  Shaking her head, Beckett flushed with embarrassed. “No. I was hoping I wouldn’t need it.”

  “I don’t want you to need it either, but I want you to have it. You’ll ride down with me, and we’ll get it filled out today. I’ll push it through for you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did you call the boys and tell them about this?”

  “No. They’re all at work. I don’t want to keep bothering them. I don’t get the feeling the Malatoas think Ryan’s brothers have anything to do with it. At least not yet they don’t, though I don’t know how long it will be before they start looking in that direction.”

  Clint looked concerned. “Beckett, there’s something I need to tell you, and I don’t want you to freak out on me about it.”

  Beckett sighed and braced herself. “This can’t be good. What’s happened?”

  “Alana, Ryan’s first wife? Well, she was found dead in her apartment this morning. Gunshot to the head. Her place had apparently been ransacked, and it looks like she was raped before she was killed. There aren’t any suspects right now, but I think we can safely assume it had something to do with all this business.”

  The room did a slow, sick spin and Beckett leaned over, bracing her forehead on her knees. “Cassie and Alan and the kids?”

  “Are safe. They’ve been taken into protective custody and are being transferred to an undisclosed location with the Federal Marshals. We’re going to take care of them. I can’t tell you where they are, but I can tell you they’re safe. I can pass letters along for you, but there can be no calls without proper notice and planning.”

  Beckett nodded. “I’ll do anything as long as it keeps them safe. I wouldn’t know what to do if something happened to them.” She took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. “I just want this to be over.”

  “This is likely only going to get worse before it gets better. I want you to be prepared for it. I don’t want any of you alone at night. I know Murphy is staying with you, and Jax and Caleb are taking turns staying at Savi’s. I’ll mention it to her if you don’t want to, but I think it might be best if you all stayed together for now. Is there room for everyone at your house?”

  Beckett ran through the options. “It’ll be tight, but I think we can make it work. Without the kids there I have enough room.”

  “Talk them into it. Makes it easier to keep an eye on all of you.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Sighing, she rose. “Let’s go talk to Savi.”

  After nearly an hour of arguing from Savi, Beckett won the battle to get the other woman to sleep at her house.

  Turning her focus to running her business, she worked well into the evening on re-ordering supplies, filling out paperwork, approving requests for time off, and paying the bills. Buoyed by the fact that there was money left in the salon’s account after paying all the bills and salaries, she had nearly forgotten about the visit from Raul when she exited Vive and locked the door behind her.

  By the time she got home with two pizzas in one arm and a bag with a bottle of wine and six pack in the other, she’d decided it might be fun to have a full house until things were under control.


  Murphy met her at the door, taking the boxes and brushing a casual kiss over her mouth. Smiling, she juggled the bag to shrug off her coat. “How was work?”

  Murphy lifted his eyebrow. “Fine, up until I heard from Clint that you got a visit from the cartel today.”

  “I’d rather not discuss it tonight if you don’t mind. There’s too much going on for me to really process.” Beckett ticked off each of her fingers as she recited the details of her day. “The kids are in custody now, and I can’t talk to them anymore. Ryan is here just waiting for an opportune time to pop out and do whatever the hell it is he plans to do. Now I’ve got South American drug lords coming into the salon threatening to chop my children into small pieces and mail them to me if I don’t find five million in cocaine before Christmas. Oh, and on top of it, Ryan’s first wife is dead as a doornail.”

  Caleb glanced up from grading papers at the kitchen table. “I think that about covers the current state of affairs. Kick your shoes off, eat some pizza, and we’ll all get sloppy drunk while we figure out what we’re going to do.”

  “I didn’t bring home enough booze for that.”

  Caleb shrugged. “Jax took Savi home to get some of her shit. I’ll text him. It’s Friday. We can all indulge a bit.”

  Chapter 20

  Caleb followed his brother around the displays of rings as Murphy tried to choose one. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he leaned over to peer in the glass, raking his eyes over the rows of glittering stones and gold bands.

  “I know the cops are doing the best they can, but if Ryan’s the one who created this entire mess, we need to find him. Maybe if he tells the cops where the money is and helps the feds get the Malatoa cartel, they’ll go easy on him.”

  Murphy looked over his shoulder, annoyed. “Dude. I’m shopping for an engagement ring. Can we not talk about our dead, or not, brother for a couple hours? Especially since the engagement ring I intend to buy is for his widow?”

  “Is she his widow now that he’s not dead? And was she ever his wife if he was married to someone else at the same time? Will she have to divorce him?”

  “I should have brought Jax. He keeps his mouth shut.”

  “Which is precisely why you brought me.” Caleb smacked his brother on the back. “You wanted an opinion, not silent acquiescence. And you wanted someone who knows Beck as well as you do. Jax spends too much time out on the boat for that.”

  “Then let’s focus on the opinion I want, which is what ring to buy for Beckett. I royally fucked it all up by springing this on her the other night, and now I need to buy her something to make up for it.”

  Caleb scowled. “That insinuates Beckett cares about the ring. She doesn’t, and you damn well know it. She wouldn’t have agreed to marry you if she didn’t love you, and she certainly isn’t going to call it off if you pick an oval cut when she wanted round.”

  A salesman smoothly cut into the conversation. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Can I help you find something?”

  Murphy stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’m looking for an engagement ring.”

  Beaming, the man ushered both men to a row of jewelry cases. “Excellent! Is there a budget we’re trying to stay under?”

  Murphy whistled when he saw the tag on a ring. “Umm, less than a car?” When Caleb laughed, he frowned. “If you can’t take this seriously, I’ll take you home and bring Jax back. He just smiles and nods.”

  “No, I was just thinking Beckett would have your head if you spend twenty grand on a ring.”

  “I’m not going to, so it’s a moot point.” Turning back to the clerk, Murphy mentally went over the money in his personal account, the shop account, and the room on his credit cards. “Let’s shoot for somewhere between a go-cart and a compact.”

  Nodding, the salesman opened a case and withdrew a tray of rings. “Here are what we have in diamonds in your price range. If you’re willing to consider other gemstones, the budget is considerably less. Is your lady wanting a diamond?”

  Murphy racked his brain for what jewelry Beckett normally wore. “She tends to wear colorful stuff. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wear a diamond. Even when she was married to Ryan, she just wore a band.” Catching the look the clerk gave him, he explained. “She was widowed. Her husband was killed in action. He was Army.”

  Sympathy flashed in the man’s eyes. “My condolences. Did you know her husband?”

  Caleb snorted. “He was our brother.” Pointing to a case on the opposite side, he grabbed Murphy’s arm and dragged him across the store. “I think Beck needs some fire and flash. She’s not cool enough for a diamond. That’s more Savi’s looks. I picture Beckett wearing a ruby or an emerald.”

  Murphy resisted, pointing to a ring in the first case. “That one.”

  The ring had three stones, all a creamy yellow in color, surrounded by tiny diamonds on a yellow gold band. Smiling, the clerk withdrew the ring and passed it to Murphy.

  “Yellow diamonds. Canary is what they’re called. These are unusually pure, and the color is exceptionally clear. The center stone is three-quarters of a carat, and the side stones are a quarter each. Total weight is two carats. A nontraditional choice for an engagement ring, but a lovely one. It’s a size six. Do you know your fiancé’s size?”

  “That should fit.” Murphy looked to his brother. “Well?”

  Caleb grinned and slapped Murphy on the shoulder. “It’s perfect. Can you afford it?”

  The clerk chuckled when both men looked at him with questioning eyes. “To put this into the terms you used earlier, this is more than a Mule, less than a Kia. Closer to the Mule side.”

  Walking out with the ring-box tucked into his jacket pocket and his bank account emptier than it had been since college, Murphy felt better than he could ever remembered. Casting a look both directions as they prepared to cross the street, he slapped a hand on his brother’s chest.

  Annoyed, Caleb swatted it away. “Dude, what?”

  “There. Look. Across the street, halfway down the block. Brown leather jacket, jeans and boots, hat pulled down low.”

  Caleb followed his brother’s gaze, his eyes focusing on the man Murphy described. “Mother fucker. It’s Ryan.”

  By silent agreement, the brothers split up, Murphy pulling his phone out to call Jax, and Caleb staying behind rows of cars to disguise himself. The man looked up and Murphy found himself staring into his older brother’s eyes. With a salute, Ryan stepped off the curb and headed down the street, weaving in and out of the mid-afternoon foot traffic on Bar Harbor.

  Murphy picked up his pace, working his way through the crowd, his eyes locked on Ryan’s hat. Trusting Caleb to cut him off at some point, Murphy stuck with the tail, tracking Ryan three blocks down and four to the west. As they moved, Murphy gained ground on his brother, getting within thirty feet at one point. With a furtive look over his shoulder, Ryan spotted a yellow cab and shoved the woman waiting out of the way, hopping in and slamming the door. With a squeal of brakes, the car rounded a corner and disappeared into traffic.

  Swearing, Caleb jogged over from the other side of the street, his face tight. “Dammit! If he’d have cut across, I’d have had him. I was even with the fucker.”

  Murphy turned in a circle. “The building he was standing in front of, what was it?”

  “Weston’s Inn, why?”

  “That might be where he’s staying. We could catch him back there when he tries to get his shit, or we figure out his room and break in.”

  Caleb nodded and struck out back in the direction they’d come from. “Shouldn’t we call the police?”

  “After we know what we need to know. My truck is at the jewelry store. I’ve got gloves in there. We’ll use them to keep from leaving prints. I want to know why he’s here and what he has.”

  Together, with latex gloves stuffed in their pockets, Caleb and Murphy strode into the Weston Inn. Striding up to the counter, Murphy pinned his most charming smile on the desk clerk, vaguely recognizin
g her from high school.

  “Afternoon, Vanessa.”

  Preening when Murphy remembered her name, Vanessa put a hand to her hair and puffed it up lightly. “Well, Murphy McKenzie, and Caleb, too. How did I get so lucky to have two handsome men come in here on a Saturday afternoon?”

  Murphy leaned against the counter, pinning his tawny golden gaze onto hers. “Well, Vanessa, Caleb and I need your help.”

  Blushing, Vanessa tapped her fingernails on the counter. “What can I help you with?”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about Beckett, and that she’s been in some trouble lately, haven’t you?”

  Nodding, Vanessa’s eyes widened. “I heard you got knocked out and that there’s all sorts of trouble with Ryan—bless his soul. But I don’t know how I can help with.”

  “Well, there’s been a guy giving Beckett trouble. Coming into Vive, bothering her at work, calling the house, that sort of thing. The police can’t do anything because Vive is a public place and he hasn’t committed a crime, but we think he’s involved in everything.” Smiling conspiratorially, Murphy withdrew the ring box from his pocket. “I was across the street at the jewelry store a little bit ago buying this for Beckett. When I came out, I saw the man who had been bothering her coming out of the Inn. I was hoping you might be able to slip me a key to his room and Caleb and I could take a quick look around. We won’t take anything or bother anything, but I want to see if there’s something in there the police might need.”

  Vanessa pressed her hands to her ample breasts and sighed over the ring. “Oh, Murphy! I’d heard you and Beckett were seeing each other, but I never dreamed it was so serious!” She smiled at him with damp eyes. “It’s beautiful. She’ll love it. Why, I’m going to schedule myself a full day at Vive just to listen to all the girls coo and sigh over Beckett and her ring.”

  Wondering why the hell Vanessa thought that even remotely sounded like fun, Murphy played what he hoped was a trump card. “Well, I’m sure I could speak with Beck and make sure you’re well taken care of on whatever day you go in at no charge. On account of you helping us with her troublemaker and all.”