by Grady, D. R.
“Which team would this terrorist group be least likely to know? While the team would have the most knowledge on the group?”
“I’ll check on that,” O’Riley promised. “Wouldn’t require much to prepare either team, though.”
“They can be Part Two if we suspect we’ll have too much time involved in Part One. But for us, right now, let’s concentrate on figuring out who the traitor is, and building evidence against him.” Sam stared off into space again.
O’Riley stirred. “Actually, if we leave Beaumont behind along with some addition members of the team—” The admiral could easily call in a few more members of Team Eight to help Beaumont.
“That would take care of Part One, which would free up this squad for Part Two,” Ben finished.
“Right. I can take Beaumont’s place in the field, if he’s okay with that,” Sam said, and after Beaumont’s nod, and the gleam of anticipation in both men’s eyes, Ben realized he was as excited as Welby and Beaumont. “We’ll be able to go wheels up soon.” There was no mistaking Welby’s enthusiasm for launching back into the field as a SEAL.
Ben understood. But a part of him wondered about Treeny. Was she okay? Did she miss him as much as he missed her? And for the first time ever, he wondered how long this assignment would take.
***
Treeny ran, dripping water, and lunged for her phone. After she located it on the nightstand. She tripped over Pete, who appeared out of nowhere and banged her knee against the corner of the bedside table. Muffling an exclamation, she grabbed up the phone.
“Hello?” she asked breathlessly and with a slightly pain-filled voice.
“Treeny, it’s Aunt Emma. Did I call at a bad time?”
She closed her eyes and lied. “No, I’m fine. What can I do for you?”
“Well, you know how everyone was intending to throw a welcome-to-the-family party for Janine?” Treeny heard papers rustling in the background. Obviously, no one had succeeded in wrestling the reins of organization from General Emma’s grasp.
“Yes, I’ve heard of some plans.”
“Well, dear, I...um,” Emma coughed delicately, “offered to take over the preparations, and was wondering if you’d like to help?”
While part of her wanted to laugh at that outright fib, offered-to-take-over-the-preparations, instead of the truer, took-over-by-long-earned-dictatorship-rights, the other part of her realized she had just been handed a royal summons. Grinning, hoping someday she might grow up and be just like General Emma, she complied.
“I’d love to help. What do you need?”
“I’ve decided the best way to welcome Janine into the family and at the same time bring Heather and the girls into this is to throw a baby shower.”
Treeny frowned at the picture of daisies above the nightstand. “A baby shower?” she repeated. Ben’s mom, Heather, was in her early fifties, babies should not be in her future. Other than as grandchildren.
“Yes. Heather has a new daughter, right?”
“Right,” Treeny hesitantly agreed, but as she blinked, the daisies didn’t move and neither did her brain.
“And she’s been expecting Janine for the last eighteen months, rather than nine, right?”
“Right.” She feared she knew exactly where General Emma was heading, and sought desperately for an escape route. None miraculously came to mind.
“Actually, it might be even longer than eighteen months, but still, I think a baby shower would be fun.” Emma continued and she resisted the urge to duck. It was too late for her to head for the hills, anyway. General Emma had already locked her sights on Treeny.
She started to shiver as the air chilled her wet skin. “A baby shower sounds wonderful.” She longed to return to the bathroom so she could towel off and put some clothing on her bare body. The towel she grabbed didn’t cover enough of her to combat the coolness of her apartment.
“Excellent, may I count on you to assist me?”
“Of course. Whatever you need, I’ll be happy to help.” She crossed her fingers she hadn’t just signed her life away. What was she throwing herself into? General Emma didn’t organize small parties. She structured mammoth blow-out, very successful affairs. Treeny shivered again. How ugly could this become?
“I’ll be in touch then, dear,” General Emma promised.
Treeny didn’t doubt that as she swallowed. So much for missing Ben.
As she suspected, she didn’t have much opportunity to miss Ben that week. Not with work, which proved busier than usual due to a summer cold virus, and the baby shower preparations.
She found herself scouring party outlets and various other stores hunting down items General Emma decreed were necessary. One happy thought was that she wasn’t alone in playing Second Lieutenant to General Emma. Lainy, KC, and Rachel were also enlisted. They became an army of four under the direction of General Emma.
Treeny had to admit Emma had excellent ideas and indubitable skills as a planner. The woman could run anything. Deciding to learn from her, rather than worry about all the time she wasted running around for their dictator, Treeny remained relatively cheerful. At least the General could picture the results. And she had no doubts as to their fearless leader knowing the consequences. She’d planned for them after all. It was nice someone knew what she was doing.
So far the only problem was Janine’s absence from Hershey. She still hadn’t arrived home from Atlanta, but Emma had personally phoned her to discover her estimated time of arrival.
Treeny wondered if Janine understood what happened to a person when they inconvenienced General Emma. She shivered.
Her cell phone rang and distracted her. “Hello?” She’d just left yet another store, but at least she managed to find ribbon for the party favors.
“Treeny, it’s Emma.”
“Hello, Aunt Emma, I just found the perfect ribbon for the party favors.”
“Wonderful. The party favors are why I’m calling. We can get together at my house to finish the last minute details Friday evening,” General Emma commanded.
Treeny saluted, well aware their leader couldn’t see her. Otherwise she’d get tossed in the stockade. “Okay. I have a heavy day at the office, but as soon as I’m finished, I’ll come. Have you heard from Janine?”
“Yes, I called her last evening. She’s planning to come home on Thursday.”
“Excellent, so we’re on for Saturday then?”
“Yes, I think Saturday will work out fine. None of the women suspect a thing.” Emma’s voice sounded triumphant and well pleased.
Of course not, they’re probably under orders. “I’m sure they’ll be surprised.” She leached all brattiness from her voice.
“Good. Heather will be so happy. And I think Janine will feel more a part of the family after this. The shower will make her welcome ‘official’.” Translation – anyone who didn’t make Janine feel welcome after this party would meet a firing squad at dawn.
“Janine is happy to have family now.” She smiled as she thought of Ben’s sister.
“That’s why we’re doing this, dear. Now, I’ll see you on Friday evening. We’ll have supper first and then work on the last details for the shower.”
“Sounds wonderful. Thank you, Aunt Emma.”
“You’re welcome. It’s not everyone who gets recruited by a General, you know,” Emma said, and Treeny heard the glee and amusement in her voice.
She laughed. “You’re right, as usual, General Emma. Very fitting nomenclature for you.”
“I know. I’ve worked hard over the years. I deserve to be a General.” Treeny heard the mock-haughtiness and laughed again. There was no one else like Emma. Again, Treeny wanted to be like her.
“You could run the country, you know,” she said loyally. KC told Treeny she and the Admiral of her Kuwait based fleet hospital had decided this after Emma set up the Bent Rock Foundation. Speaking of which... “Emma, have you decided on the Third Annual Bent Rock Foundation Blow-Out?”
S
he had participated in the second about six months ago, but figured there would soon be another. The second had raised even more money for the Foundation than the first, and so far they’d been able to help every family who applied for aid. She hoped they could continue that record. So far, the Blow-Out Foundation fundraisers were enough. She’d volunteer her time and energy if by doing so meant another military person’s family would be cared for. Her father hadn’t been military but...
“Yes. I’m waiting on Admiral Rich O’Riley to inform me of his schedule. We’d like to hold the next function with him in attendance. I believe many of the Marines and seamen who come would like to see him again.” Treeny heard a casual note of interest she was sure Emma hadn’t intended to invoke in her statement. But their general just enunciated his first name almost caressingly. Did Emma have the hots for this admiral? Hmmmm.
“Okay. Well, I’m available for that, whenever it happens.”
“Of course you are, dear. You’re already down on my list of volunteers,” Emma said breezily.
She grinned. “Nothing like a willing volunteer.” Or a stupid one, however you wanted to say it.
Chapter 24
Treeny’s heart tripped as the footsteps echoed up the walk. The stride of boots against the stone sidewalk beat in time with her heart. She knew that sound. She’d heard it before.
Heart thumping, she waited for those boots to reach the front door. They seemed to take an eternity before she heard the scrape of a boot heel on the first step. Then the next step, and the next, and the next until they reached the porch.
The pounding of a fist against the door raised bile in her throat. She smelled fear, because Treeny knew what that pounding meant. Cold, clammy sweat broke out on her body, and she tried to swallow.
Fear. She hated the sound, feel, and smell of this emotion she couldn’t shake. She heard her mother answer the door. It was late, too late for social calls. Their visitors came because they had to. They drove all the way out to the Deveau house to impart this news.
Bad news. She knew they came with news she didn’t want to hear.
She slid silently out of her bed and crept to the doorway of her bedroom. The men standing on the front step were uniformed. They looked so official. They stood differentially, with respect and consolation, and plenty of sympathy mixed into their speech. One man wore a large silver cross around his neck. The jewelry didn’t fit against the uniform.
She saw the first man’s Adam’s apple bob before he cleared his throat. “Ms. Deveau?”
Fear clenched her insides again, turned her guts to liquid. The man looked like he wanted to turn and run in the opposite direction. Just as any man who brought information that couldn’t be changed, couldn’t be altered would desire.
A scream rose in her throat and dislodged the bile. She knew. She knew exactly what those men in uniform brought. People who died in the line of duty were given this type of service.
“May I help you?” The question, asked in a woman’s voice was so innocuous. So innocent. Had she asked that question, or her mother?
She heard a garbled response from the men, and realized fear had shut off her listening skills. When she shoved the fear away, Treeny heard the words form into a coherent sentence.
“We’re here to tell you that Ben Morrison died last night.”
She screamed and finally woke up. Treeny sat up in her bed, sweat coating her body, her heart racing. Exactly as they had that terrible night in her teens when her world fell apart.
Saturday dawned bright and chaotic. At least that’s what Treeny surmised when she finally opened her eyes to a bright room. When she glanced at the clock, she saw she had overslept. Because of the nightmare. Again. She hadn’t had that dream in a few years, but there had been a different twist last night. Instead of the men coming to inform her and her family of her father’s death, they’d come to inform her of Ben’s.
She battled the same fear and despair that rose up in a choking hold again. This battle had been fought already. Years ago, when she struggled to heal from the unexpected blow of her father’s death and ran to Pennsylvania and the love of the Morrison family.
Pete tried licking her to death. Remembering the dog’s determination to awaken her, Treeny gathered Pete’s wriggling body close for a moment. She was supremely grateful for the puppy.
Treeny glanced at the clock again.
“Oh, no!” She groaned and rolled out of bed to find her phone.
Finally, in desperation, she hunted until she found the device under a seat cushion on the sofa. She stared Pete down, but the puppy didn’t show signs of guilt, so Treeny decided not to make accusations. Instead she found Emma’s number and called her.
“Aunt Emma, I overslept. I’ll be over as soon as I get dressed,” she said hastily when Emma answered.
“No rush, dear. In fact, you may go back to bed if you wish. We’re in excellent shape. There’s really nothing left to do until an hour or so before the party. We’re rather organized around here.”
Treeny smothered a yawn and opened the door for Pete. The puppy scampered down the stairs, tail waving like a flag in a steady breeze. “You are organized, General Emma.”
“Yes, dear. I’ll see you around noon, then?”
“That sounds perfect.” She entertained visions of returning to her bed. The busy week must have caught up with her. It was only 7:30 a.m., so she decided once she let Pete back in, they’d return to bed.
Wearily, she opened the door for Pete when she yapped at the door. Even through her fatigue, she smiled at the puppy bark. Someday Pete would likely have a menacing growl-bark, more fitting for her adult size but for now her voice elicited laughter.
Yawning, Treeny trailed across the room to her bed. Pete bounced onto the mattress and clambered in the way of the covers, but eventually they settled back onto the softness. She thought briefly about Ben. Where was he? Was he okay? Did he need anything?
She rolled over and wished he was with her. She wanted to see him today, now. Still, General Emma would keep her busy. Perhaps his aunt did so on purpose. But then, she wasn’t married. Wondering idly if Emma Morrison had ever been in love, she drifted into sleep.
“Is this right, General Emma?” Treeny wove the last of the ribbon through the stair rail.
“The decorations are gorgeous, love. Perfect.” Their busy leader took a moment to inspect Treeny’s work on her way past.
Still, through the stress of preparing for the surge of relatives who would soon be befalling them, Emma appeared serene. Knowing herself, Treeny figured she’d be far less peaceful. This was a plausible explanation why General Emma tended to be so successful at organizing events.
And this shower was a fairly large undertaking. Not on the same proportions as the Bent Rock Foundation, but still large. At last count, she, Rachel, KC, and Lainy expected around a hundred people.
“How on earth are we going to fit a hundred people in here?” Rachel whispered on her way past to do General Emma’s latest bidding. To this day Treeny wished she could have inherited the same genes that gave Rachel her tall, blonde good looks. Supposedly they shared the same genes. Not that Ben seemed to mind that Treeny wasn’t all that tall and her hair tended toward red and gold than blonde.
She opened her eyes wide and shrugged. “I have no idea. Don’t ask me.” Leaning down, she picked up the remainder of her sandwich and took a bite. Rachel watched her suspiciously. “What?” she asked her sister, suspicion growing.
“You were supposed to be on the planning committee for logistics.” She noticed her sister’s mouth twitch with humor. Since there was no logistics planning committee, she could understand the reason behind Rachel’s amusement.
“I wasn’t on that committee. Lainy was,” Treeny defended and took another bite of her sandwich.
“I was what?” Lainy asked as she came abreast of them. She stole a couple chips from Treeny’s plate.
“You were part of the logistics planning committee. How
on earth are we going to fit a hundred people in here?” Rachel also helped herself to the chips on Treeny’s plate.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. We’ve squeezed at least a hundred and seventy five people in General Emma’s house. Besides, a bunch of those people will be little,” Lainy indicated the space near her thigh, “so they’ll play outside. No problems,” she assured them, snagging another chip.
“Hey, I’m following orders here, doing this and that for the world’s most organized general, and you three are standing around eating chips and gossiping.” KC mock huffed as she came upon them and added a glare. She helped herself to the last of the chips on Treeny’s plate. “Mmmm, I needed that. I was getting hungry.”
“You’re breast feeding,” Lainy said easily.
“True. Maybe I should search out some fruit. I’m starving again.”
“Where’s Ryan?” Treeny asked.
“With Max. He has all the kids in the backyard.”
“Which kids?”
“Mine,” Lainy said.
“Mine, too.” Rachel waved a hand. The one not clutching Treeny’s chips.
“Oh.” Treeny laughed. “Since your kids are my nieces and nephews, I should have known that, hmm?”
“You’d think.”
“What are you girls doing? We’ve still got work to do,” Emma announced and clapped her hands. Treeny and her fellow slaves exchanged guilty looks before bursting back into their duties.
“Dictator,” Lainy muttered under her breath.
“Yes, I am.” Emma hustled them again. “Faster!”
“Ben, please come home,” Treeny prayed.
When Heather Morrison entered the room and saw the pink ribbons and balloons, she frowned. “Did I stumble into a breast cancer fundraiser?” she asked. Janine almost knocked her mom over when that good lady stopped abruptly.
“No, but that’s a good idea.” Janine watched Emma lean over her list and jot something down.
“Thanks, Heather,” Treeny hissed, “now we’ll have to work on that too.”
