Into the Night

by Suzanne Brockmann

  “Who used to date—past tense, honey—Chief Wayne ‘the Duke’ Jefferson. ‘The Duke.’ Can you believe that?” Shonda was a very dark-skinned African-American woman with short-cropped hair that she’d dyed blond, and a wide smile that lit her from within. “What kind of grown man walks around calling himself ‘the Duke’? I gave him up last year for Lent and decided to make it permanent. I come to these ‘Wheels Up, Whoops, I’m Sleeping Alone Again Tonight’ parties to remind myself that my decision to ditch the man was a smart one.”

  “Instead you sleep alone every night,” teased a woman—a girl, really—who was still dressed in a waitress uniform. She held out her hand to Mary Lou. “I’m Ellen.”

  “What do you know from sleeping alone?” Shonda countered. “Ellen’s spending time with Jay Lopez—and everyone and their baby sister knows our little Lopez has taken a vow of celibacy.” She turned to Christy. “Or was that Jenk?”

  “No, it definitely wasn’t Mark.” Christy laughed as if that were a very funny joke.

  “Well, it sure as hell wasn’t ‘the Duke,’” Shonda said. “And check out that look on Joan’s face. She’s thinking ‘What are these lunatics talking about?’”

  “Joan DaCosta’s visiting from Washington,” Kelly told Mary Lou. “She works at the White House.”

  “So ix-nay on the President Bryant okes-jay,” Shonda said.

  “Who’s celibate?” Joan asked. “I definitely missed something here. Slow it down a little. Have mercy on me and explain some of these inside jokes.”

  Joan DaCosta—thank the Lord—had an even bigger butt than Mary Lou. She really hated being the fattest woman in the room.

  She moved over to the windows as the women continued their banter, feeling decidedly like an outsider. Even Joan, a visitor from the East Coast, was more comfortable here than she was.

  “Jay Lopez is celibate, and Christy had breast implants,” Kelly was explaining.

  “Yeah, right,” Christy said with a snort. “I went to the plastic surgeon and said, ‘Gee, Doctor, I long to be a whopping 32B. Can you help me out?’”

  The room erupted in laughter.

  “Mike Muldoon is gay,” Kelly continued, “and Cosmo Richter…Say it with me, now!”

  “Was recruited to join the SEALs from his cell in the lifers wing of a federal penitentiary.” Nearly all of the women finished in unison before dissolving into more laughter.

  “Well, I kind of believe the one about Cosmo,” Joan said. Despite her big butt, she was really very pretty when she laughed.

  Outside the sliding door, in the next yard over, a man was cutting the grass. Was that…? Could it be…Ihbraham? Mary Lou tried to look closer just as he disappeared behind some shrubbery, and knocked her head—pretty hard—against the glass. Which, of course, Kelly and Meg both noticed. They pretended not to, but Mary Lou knew they saw.

  God, she was an idiot. Way to fit in. She moved away from the slider, rubbing her head when no one was looking.

  “You wouldn’t believe the rumors out there,” Teri was saying to Joan. “Stan and I have a hot tub in our backyard, where apparently we have orgies every weekend.”

  “But you never invite me,” the other women all said in unison.

  More laughter. Mary Lou forced a smile.

  There were four different bottles of wine out on the kitchen counter, along with glasses.

  “Help yourself, Mary Lou,” Christy said to her with a smile. “It’s a self-serve party. You want it, you get it yourself. Beer’s in the fridge.”

  Kelly slapped her forehead. “Oh, shoot!”

  “What?”

  “Mary Lou, I’m pretty sure there’s some soda in here.” Kelly opened the refrigerator. “Tom actually likes to drink that high octane root beer, or…” She opened the freezer. “I could mix up a can of lemonade?”

  Mary Lou moved into the kitchen area. “I’ll just have water.”

  “We have cranberry juice…?”

  “That would be great,” she said. She hated cranberry juice, but Kelly was determined to offer her something.

  “I’m really sorry.” Kelly poured the juice into one of the wineglasses.

  “It’s all right,” Mary Lou said as she took the glass, even though the sight of those wine bottles on that counter were driving her crazy. God, she needed some air.

  But Kelly closed the kitchen window as the sound of the lawn mower got louder. “Figures Ihbraham would show up today.”

  Mary Lou stopped looking at the bottles of wine. “Ihbraham Rahman?”

  Kelly laughed in surprise. “Yeah. Do you know him?”

  “He does yard work in our neighborhood. He’s really good.”

  “And apparently quite reasonable. He’s out here two or three times a week. Everyone’s hiring him.”

  “I’m glad to hear he’s doing so well,” Mary Lou said. “He told me that his business is pretty new. He’s been working hard to get clients.”

  Kelly laughed. “Yeah, he keeps telling me two months are free with a yearlong contract. But Tom’s really into gardening. It’s therapeutic, believe it or not. The flowers out there are his.”

  Mary Lou moved to the window to look out. “Wow.” Their gardens were quite lovely. She never would have guessed in a million years that Commander Paoletti liked growing flowers.

  “I’ve got a total brown thumb,” Kelly said. “I told Ihbraham I’d definitely call him if Tom’s ever out of town for any length of time.”

  With a smile, she led Mary Lou back toward the rest of the women. They were still talking about the rumors that were constantly being spread about the SEALs.

  “What I want to know is, has anyone ever seen Mike Muldoon with a woman?” Ellen asked.

  “I think he really is gay,” Christy agreed.

  “Why do you think that?” Joan asked. “I’ve spent some time with him lately, and I don’t get that impression at all.”

  Teri cleared her throat. “He’s not gay. I went on a date with him once.”

  The entire group turned to look at her. They all started talking at once, but Shonda was the loudest. She whooped. “The quiet women always have the biggest secrets! When was this and why is the man still alive? I would have thought dear ol’ Stanley would’ve killed him and scattered his various body parts clear across the state by now.”

  “Actually, Stan set us up,” Teri said. “It was…a while ago. Back when he was a little confused about our relationship. Back when he thought it was just a friendship.” She smiled. “Back before I convinced him he was wrong.”

  “So did you and Mike…you know?”

  “No!” Teri said, laughing. “It was just a date. Nothing happened. We had dinner. We talked. Mostly about Stan.”

  “So didn’t he, like, make a move on you?” Christy asked. “Like, hey, baby, you show me yours, I’ll show you mine?”

  “No, he didn’t,” Teri said. “He’s pretty shy. He was very nice.”

  “So how does that prove anything?” Shonda asked. “He was very nice. Hmmmm. Nice. In fact, I think it proves that he is gay.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Kelly said. “It proves that he’s polite and respectful of women. Some men just need a little encouragement in the love department.”

  “I’d like to meet one of them for a change. The men I know need encouragement only when it comes to picking up their laundry and putting the toilet seat back down,” Shonda said, and everyone laughed.

  “You’re Sam Starrett’s wife, right?” Joan asked Mary Lou. “I met him yesterday. He’s…impressive. There’s got to be a lot of rumors circulating about him, huh?”

  The room fell instantly silent.

  No one looked at Mary Lou. It was worse than if they’d all stared at her, because this way she knew they’d actually heard the rumors. And this way she knew they thought those rumors were true. She wanted to shrink down to about an inch tall and run underneath the sofa.

  “There’s always a lot of rumors about everyone associated with the te
ams,” Kelly said brightly. “How about we decide what we want on our pizzas?”

  Shonda and Christy started arguing about anchovies, and the moment passed.

  “I said something really wrong, didn’t I?” Joan asked Mary Lou in a low voice. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to…”

  “The rumor is that I purposely got myself pregnant so Sam would have to marry me,” Mary Lou told her just as quietly.

  Joan cringed. “Ouch. That sucks.”

  “Yeah,” Mary Lou said. “Excuse me.”

  She went into the kitchen, where Kelly was making a list of the various pizza toppings over by those fucking too-tempting bottles of wine. “What do you like on your pizza?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry.” Mary Lou set her untouched glass of juice down on the counter. “I really can’t stay. I promised the sitter…”

  That was a very transparent lie, and Kelly wasn’t fooled. “I’m sorry, too,” she said quietly. “I wasn’t thinking. We just always have wine and beer and…Sam says you’re really doing well. Eighteen months sober is really great. It’s quite an accomplishment.”

  “Thanks.” Of course it didn’t really compare with Kelly’s accomplishments—going through medical school and becoming a doctor. Sure, she sounded sincere instead of patronizing, but Mary Lou didn’t trust her. She didn’t trust any of them. And she wanted to get the hell out of there.

  Now.

  Before she burst into tears.

  “You know, I can order bottles of soda with the pizzas,” Kelly suggested. “We’ll put the wine and beer away and—”

  “Oh, no, I don’t want you to do that. It’s really not a problem for me,” Mary Lou lied. “It’s just…I’m on a diet and pizza isn’t…besides, Haley was really cranky when I dropped her off at the sitter’s and…”

  Kelly was dubious. “Are you sure? We can—”

  “Very. Thank you so much for inviting me.”

  “Well, it was nice seeing you.”

  Yeah, they were both lying their asses off now. Mary Lou could practically smell the other woman’s relief that she was leaving. “I’ll let myself out. Please tell everyone that I’m sorry I couldn’t stay.”

  And with that she was out of there. She practically ran down the hall and pushed her way out the front door.

  She ran down the driveway and stood there for a moment, stunned that her car wasn’t there, until she remembered she was driving Sam’s truck.

  The relief that flooded her was too much, and she stood there, at the end of the driveway, taking big gulps of fresh air as she tried not to cry.

  Lord, was it too much to ask to have a friend? The only person she could really call her friend was Janine, who had moved across the country to Florida, leaving Mary Lou here, all alone.

  “Mary Lou?”

  Ihbraham’s truck was parked in front of the house next door. He had just finished loading his lawn mower into the back, and he came toward her now, both glad to see her and puzzled as to what she was doing there.

  Ihbraham was her friend.

  He actually liked her. He honestly cared about her.

  The realization hit her and she burst into tears.

  “Wow,” he said. “Do I smell that bad?”

  But there must have been something in her eyes or on her face that told him it was time to kick aside the boundaries that he’d set between them. He hesitated only slightly before he reached for her.

  Mary Lou clung to him, her arms tight around his waist as she sobbed into his shirt.

  “Oh, wow,” he said again in his lilting accent. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  For someone who was so thin, he was solid. Beneath his flowing clothes, he was all lean muscle.

  And he smelled so good. Like fresh-cut grass and some kind of exotic fragrance—sandalwood. Janine used to burn sandalwood incense back when she was into psychedelic drugs.

  “I need to go to a meeting,” Mary Lou said, her voice muffled.

  “Ah,” he said, his hands warm against her back, against her head as he gently stroked her hair as if she were a young child. “That’s always a good idea. Shall I help you find one? I have a blue book in my truck.”

  Mary Lou lifted her head and looked up at him, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. “Will you go with me?”

  This time he didn’t hesitate at all. “Of course.”

  “I hate this fucking shit.”

  Muldoon didn’t have to turn around to know it was Sam Starrett who was standing behind him, stripping off his rebreather and other diving gear.

  “You know what lives in caves?” Sam asked. “Bats—which are the fucking creepiest mammal on the face of the earth, except they don’t live on the face of the earth, do they? They live beneath it.”

  Bats were actually kind of cool, considering they used sound waves to navigate as they moved through the air at high speeds. But Muldoon kept his thoughts to himself, seeing how Sam had come up against about a hundred of them flapping in his face just a few hours ago without flinching or making a single sound. He was allowed to rant about it now.

  “And those white bugs,” Sam continued. “And fish and lizards. White with no eyes. Jesus.” He laughed. “Listen to me complain. Like I wouldn’t give damn near anything to be able to stay here and just keep training like this for the next, oh, five, ten years. Or better yet, go directly from here to Afghanistan to kick ass. Yeah, give me angry terrorists. Just please don’t make me go home.”

  He’d sat down to strip his wet suit from his legs, and now he just sat on the ground, rubbing his forehead as if he had a massive headache.

  “Anything I can do?” Muldoon asked.

  Sam laughed, a burst of disgusted air. “Yeah, I wish. Make my life go away, will you?” He stopped himself, running one hand down his face. “Shit—sorry, Mike.”

  “Are you sure there’s not—”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” Sam cut him off. “I’m the one got myself into this mess, I’m gonna have to get myself out. It’s just…it’s not going to be fun.”

  Muldoon nodded. “I’m here if you want to talk.”

  “Right,” Sam said, hauling himself up off the ground. “Talking will really help.”

  “Hey, you were the one who told me to talk to Joan,” Muldoon pointed out.

  “Yeah, how’s that going?”

  “Not so good,” he admitted.

  “What a fucking surprise.” Sam gathered up his gear, and with a nod, he vanished into the night.

  FOURTEEN

  “GOT A MINUTE?”

  “Heck, Mike, I’ve got a full hour,” Joan said into her cell phone, reaching for the remote control and muting CNN. “And the only reason I can’t talk longer is because I’m meeting my grandparents for lunch.”

  “That’s great,” he said. “I’m glad you found the time to do that.”

  She kept her eye on the headlines that ran constantly beneath the news. “Yeah, I’m smack in the middle of what we in this business call ‘the lull before the storm.’ Just try talking to me tomorrow, bub. In fact, let me apologize now for the fact that I’m going to be able to give you only twelve and a half seconds when you return from wherever it is that you are right now—that unnamed, secret place where you and your brothers in arms are doing unnamed, secret things that will help you be better prepared to fight terrorists.”

  Muldoon laughed. Even over the less-than-perfect cell phone speaker his laughter sounded too rich and warm. He sounded close, too—as if he were curled up inside of her ear.

  “What’s up, my brother from another mother?” she asked.

  “I’m really just checking in,” he told her. “I’ve got a little time to kill, too. I guess I just wanted to make sure that Steve was still getting the job done for you.”

  “He is,” Joan said. “He’s been very nice. Not as nice as you, but…” CNN cut to commercials and she was able to drag her eyes away from the screen. “Speaking of nice, do you know there’s a rumor going around that you�
��re gay?”

  Muldoon choked. “What?”

  Boy, he actually sounded surprised. She was sure he’d just laugh, sure he’d be aware of the rumors. “Oops. Never mind.”

  “Hold on,” he said in his commanding officer’s voice. “Wait. You can’t drop a comment like that and then go never mind. Where did you hear that?”

  “Is it true?” she asked.

  He laughed in disgust. “What do you think?”

  “I think if it’s not true, why do you care where I heard it?” she countered.

  “I’d kind of like to know who’s spreading rumors about me.”

  “What are you going to do, go beat ’em up?” she asked. “Or—I know—hah! Go have heterosexual sex in front of them?” She laughed.

  “Yeah, right,” he said. “You are so not funny this time.”

  “Oh, but I am. I crack-a myself-a up,” she admitted. “I was just picturing…” She laughed harder.

  “What?”

  “I was just picturing…” She couldn’t stop laughing.

  “What?”

  “We were looking for a really flashy way to kick off the President’s appearance next week, thinking about some kind of SEAL demonstration, and John Grotto, he’s a major player in the White House communications office, he kept saying, ‘We want to do something unusual. Something that’s never been done before.’ Quick, let me send an email to John suggesting…Wow, it puts a new spin on the idea of a demonstration, doesn’t it?”

  He laughed, and she could almost see him roll his eyes. “I’m so very glad I amuse you.”

  “Don’t take it personally. It’s really just…Sex is really very funny, don’t you think?”

  “Funny isn’t the word that comes to my mind—”

  “No,” Joan said, trying her best not to start laughing again. “I know. You’re right. When it’s just two people and there’s passion and maybe even real, honest love and the room is dimly lit—very dimly lit—then it can be pretty serious. But public sex? No, thank you. No way. It’s just not…I mean, have you ever watched a porno flick?”

  “Um…”

  “Of course you have. Everyone’s seen at least one and probably only one because, let’s face it, you watch one and you never want to have sex again, let alone ever watch another porno movie. It’s not sexy at all. It’s hideous. At best, it’s funny—laughable funny. There’s lots of odd positions with strangely placed and therefore freakish-looking naked body parts. And there’s grunting and all kinds of strange and very unsexy noises and…Have you ever watched yourself have sex?”