Renner (In the Company of Snipers Book 19)

by Irish Winters

  Then Potomac Avenue SE, it was. Renner followed her instructions, and soon they were parked behind a decades-old brick building that had once been Lincoln High School. Most of the lawn around the parking lot had been replaced by heavy construction equipment, most likely there to begin what, by the end of the day, would be McCormack’s renovation to Raymond’s Kids. It was a good thing that Jed was doing, but something about it still niggled at the back of Renner’s mind.

  “Pull up and park next to Kelsey’s car,” Tara directed, pointing at what Renner knew was the armored SUV Alex had reinforced for his wife, fully equipped with as much, if not more, security gizmos than the president’s limo. If that didn’t scream OCD, nothing did. Several other cars and SUVs were parked in what remained of the parking lot, none Renner recognized. But it was good to see that Kelsey had her vehicle back.

  Tara grabbed hold of his hand and they walked up the rear steps and into a long hallway that still smelled like schoolbooks and glue sticks, chalkboards and mac-n-cheese. On his left, the men’s and women’s restrooms and the rear kitchen exit. To his immediate right were stairs that led up to the children’s sleeping quarters, and down to individual bedrooms that, as far as Renner knew, were still vacant. He and Tara passed the supply cabinet, Kelsey’s office, and finally came to the front lobby and entry. Hunter-green-and-white-checkered linoleum covered all the floors, and in the cafeteria across from the entry, kids were singing God Bless America.

  A portly janitor dressed in brown coveralls pushed a four-foot wide dust mop across the floor, swooshing dust bunnies and dirt from the corners as he headed their way.

  “Hey, Jeremy,” Tara called to him. “What’s up with all the music?”

  “Hi, Killer Tara! Miss Kelsey’s teaching a couple songs for the presentation tonight. Y’all heard, din’t you? Mister Jed McCormack’s building us a new wing. Ha!” Jeremy said that with pride, grinning his usual innocent jack-o-lantern smile that covered his entire face. “Hey, Mister Renner Graves. Whatcha doing here today?”

  Everyone received a proper salutation from Jeremy. Renner always suspected Kelsey hired this middle-aged man because he reminded her of Raymond, the man/child she’d found and lost a couple years back. From what Renner knew, Jeremy was as guileless as Raymond had been.

  “I thought I’d stop by and see Aaron for a minute. Is he around?”

  “Ah huh, he’s helpin’ Miss Kelsey. Some of the boys din’t want to sing, but he talked ’em into it. Ha!”

  “Thanks, Jeremy,” Tara said.

  “You’re welcome,” he replied with unabashed cheer as he ambled by. “Catch ya later, alligators. Ha!”

  By then her hand rested on Renner’s forearm, and br-r-r-t…

  Renner looked over his shoulder. “Did he just—?”

  “Yes.” Tara giggled. “He does it all the time. Just keep walking. It’ll pass.”

  “I think it already did.” Renner was still shaking his head when they walked into the cafeteria, where Kelsey led her chorus through the final burst of musical patriotism.

  She did have a way with kids, even directing choir. Most of them actually sang and looked like they were having fun. But Kelsey looked tense. Most likely because of the several utility carts loaded with stacks of folded chairs, the two industrial floor scrubbers, a raft of buckets, and cartons of other cleaning supplies lining the far wall of the cafeteria.

  The floor plan was your everyday simple cafeteria. To Renner’s left lay the kitchen, its door to the left of a long serving counter that could be closed off with a drop-down aluminum screen. Stocked with modern industrial appliances and everything necessary to feed a small army, Kelsey’s two kitchen helpers were busy doing dishes.

  To his right, a wooden podium with a built-in microphone stood ready for the upcoming event. The wall opposite the door had been decorated with cheerful, giant, white glittery snowflakes that hung high above a long row of bulletin boards where children’s artwork was displayed. Basically, the cafeteria was a rectangular box with two exits, the main double doors where Renner stood and the exit in the kitchen that led to the hallway where he and Tara had just been.

  Three men in casual wear, black slacks, black polos, and dark glasses hovered near where Kelsey stood leading music. Those guys were new since the last time Renner visited Raymond’s Kids. Renner couldn’t get a read on them. No friendly smiles. No eye contact. No hint of recognition.

  “Okay, children, now don’t forget. You’re not to wear your new choir shirts until later today. I want you clean and beautiful when you sing the awesome song for Mr. McCormack, okay…?” She drew that last word out as if she expected an answer.

  “Yes, Miss Kelsey,” most of them replied in unison. A couple boys weren’t paying attention, instead shouldering each other.

  “Hey, Miss Kelsey,” Renner mimicked the children as they wandered off. “How’s the boss?”

  She hurried to them, her eyes as wide as saucers. “You poor things! My gosh, you look—”

  “Like we’ve just been beaten up. We get that a lot. What else’s going on?” Tara asked. “Where’s Lexie.”

  “Alex is home resting, and Lexie is playing with Squeaks today.”

  Squeaks was Adam and Shannon Torrey’s little boy, so named by Adam after the little guy’s unexpected, premature birth on the desert island they’d crash landed on during a TEAM operation. Adam and Shannon weren’t married at the time, but Adam delivered the tiny guy who eventually became his son. Fell in love with the tiny infant. Named him Squeaks and the name stuck.

  “Alex is home?” That was odd. Renner couldn’t recall a day Alex hadn’t charged into work needing coffee and needing it right damned now.

  “He has the flu,” Kelsey replied, but that was still odd. Alex sick? Did not compute.

  “What’s with them?” Renner stuck his chin at the silent men on her six. “You hire bodyguards?”

  “Right. My husband owns a security business, so I hire bodyguards behind his back.” Sarcasm? From Kelsey? That was new too. “Guys, you all know Tara. I’d like you to meet Renner Graves.” She waved them in closer. “He works for Alex. Renner, this is Harvey Warner…”

  The hefty guy with the widest shoulders took a half-step forward and extended his right hand gloved in black. “Nice to meetcha,” he growled, his upper lip twitching.

  “Same here.” Renner nodded, now understanding precisely who these men were. That was a soft plastic prosthetic under that glove, not a hand. He’d been one of Montego’s victims. “You Air Force?”

  “You stupid?” Harvey all but snarled as that same rigid gloved hand hit the middle of his chest. “I’m a Marine! Oo-rah! Least I was—”

  “Still are,” Renner corrected sharply, “and don’t forget it. You’re alive, aren’t you?” He was suddenly back in the Corps, on parade, ready to stand and fight with good men and women. Sometimes those men and woman just had to remember who they still were. They needed to hear the words. They needed to be reminded that they might not have given all, but they gave all they could.

  “Yes, sir!”

  “And who are you?” Renner asked the next gentleman, looking him up and down. Inspecting his boots, trousers, belt and shirt like a DI. Not smiling. Just letting him remember how it was to have the muscle of the Corps at your back.

  “Private First Class Enrique Rojas, sir.” Damned if the guy didn’t salute.

  “At ease,” Renner bit out. “You Mexican, Rojas? Spanish? You one of them illegals from South America?” A good drill sergeant knew how to get under a guy’s skin.

  “No, sir! I’m American, sir!”

  “Good answer,” Renner said evenly, the snark in his tone replaced with sudden civility. “Why are you here?”

  “To serve Miss Kelsey,” he answered, his lower lip trembling.

  “Then take those piece of shit glasses off.”

  Rojas complied, but he fumbled, and Renner caught the sunglasses before they hit the floor.
He handed them back, staring at the perspiring but handsome young man with one milky eye. No doubt a souvenir from his time with Montego.

  “You’ve got quite a shiner there, Rojas. You still combat ready?”

  Rojas nodded. “Sure am, sir.”

  “You Army?” Folks might not believe it, but a discerning jarhead noticed the subtle tells and difference between service members.

  Rojas nodded again, his eyes glistening.

  Renner stabbed an accusing finger at Kelsey. “Do you love her?” he bellowed.

  “Yes, sir!” Rojas screwed his lips, biting them. He turned to Kelsey, who stood there as surprised as everyone else. “Sorry, ma’am, but it’s true. We all do. You... you helped us. M-me. You showed up. I’ll always love you, and I can’t thank you enough. I’ll put my life on the line for you any day of the week. I will.”

  “You’ll do,” Renner said as calmly as he could. These guys all passed muster. Kelsey was in good hands, and it was obvious they loved her in the way all warriors loved mom’s apple pie and the pretty girl next door. She was their lady and they would die for her.

  The last man stepped forward, his hand already extended, his glasses in his pocket, his eyes smiling, and a big grin on his African American face. “Hey, Staff Sergeant Graves. You might not remember me, but you saved my brother when you were in Afghanistan. He was there when that friendly opened fire in Mazar-I-Sharif. Don’t guess you forgot that; I sure never forgot you.”

  Renner knew instantly who this guy was, but he didn’t want accolades for doing his job. “You’re Terrell’s baby brother?”

  Again, with the toothy smile. “Yes, sir, I’m Corporal Zale Warner, and I’m American, too. Just like you.”

  “Yes, you are.” Renner slapped Warner’s meaty bicep. “How is Terrell?”

  “Terry’s real good. Came home and right away got married. He’s a police officer in Michigan now, going to be a daddy any day.”

  “Well, good. Are you guys all here to guard Kelsey?”

  “That’s what we do.” Zale seemed to be the acting leader of this well-built, but silent team. “In case you’re wondering…” He stuck one boot forward. “She lopped off all my toes. Might’ve given me a limp, but she didn’t take the Marine outta me. I owe that bitch… Sorry, Miss Kelsey, but I do. And I owe America. If anyone’s taking Catalina Montego down, it’s gonna be me.”

  “You’re fine,” Kelsey said, “but I think you’ll have to stand in line if you want to end her.”

  Renner asked, “So you guys watch over Kelsey while she’s here—”

  “Yes, sir, and there’s more of us. Others, I mean. We’ve got a schedule. This morning’s me, Harv, and Ricky. We’re on duty until two, then Dallas, Rafe, and Jim usually take over until she decides to go home. Today’s gonna be different though. We’ll all be here until it’s over.”

  Renner had almost forgotten how these men had all identified as a collective ‘we’ or ‘us’ while in Montego’s clutches. That was how she’d controlled them, by using their innate sense of brotherhood against them. Torturing or murdering one in front of the others made everyone else compliant and weak.

  “But who watches over her until she’s safe at home?” Tara asked, eyeing the men through slanted eyelids. “How do you know for sure Kelsey makes it all the way home?”

  “Don’t you worry none, Miss Tara, but…” Zale’s shoulders lifted. “We kinda follow her until we know she’s safely aboard the boss’s chopper at Reagan.”

  “You follow me?” That caught Kelsey by surprise.

  Zale nodded, his soft brown eyes filled with mischief instead of the pain glittering in Ricky’s or the anger in Harv’s. “Yes, ma’am, we do, and we aren’t going to stop even if you say so.”

  In typical Kelsey-style, she hugged each of them. Damn, she looked like a little girl hugging giants. After each man had stooped and patted her back, she stepped away, wiping her face. “I never knew. Thank you. That’s so thoughtful. Does Alex know?”

  By then Harv and Ricky had pocketed their dark glasses. Harv’s eyes were gray, Ricky’s a clear coffee-brown. “Yes, ma’am, he does,” Harv replied. “He pays us, but we’d do it anyway. It’s our privilege to take extra special care of you.”

  “That husband of mine,” she said, shaking her head. “I guess we all have our secrets, don’t we?”

  “Don’t be too hard on him,” Zale said. “He’s just doing what good men do.”

  “Don’t worry. Alex has my back and I have his.”

  “Damned good to meet you,” Renner said as he shook hands with Kelsey’s three warriors again, this time as a friend. “You guys ever need anything, call. I’ll be glad to come back and kick your asses.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ricky answered, a soft smile tweaking his lips. “Pleasure to meet you, Staff Sergeant Graves.”

  “Renner, just Renner. My staff sergeant days are behind me.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  When the men stepped back, Renner turned his attention to the lady of the house. “How’d you sleep last night?”

  Kelsey waved him off as if sleep meant nothing.

  “Kelsey…” He cocked his head, needing a better answer. “You’re starting to scare me. It’s like I’m watching you transform into Alex.”

  “Oh, fine. If you’re really asking if I stayed home,” she replied, returning the stare, “the answer is yes. But I didn’t sleep. I have too much on my mind, and there’s still so much to be done. How could Jed do this to me?”

  “You’ll be fine,” Tara said as she turned a full circle, scrutinizing the cafeteria. “Place looks okay to me.”

  “No, it doesn’t. The floors haven’t been polished since Thanksgiving. The windows, the bathrooms, the chairs… Oh, my gosh, the chairs need to be wiped down. I’m sure there’s sticky jelly and peanut butter fingerprints all over them, and—”

  Renner held up both palms. “Relax. This is a home for lost kids, not uppity politicians. Raymond’s Kids isn’t supposed to be perfect. Like the kids you built it for, it’s a messy work in progress. They’re the ones you want to feel comfortable here. Not the press.”

  He nodded at Kelsey’s stacks of over-sized pillows tucked into and over-flowing the double-wide closet behind one cafeteria door. Different colors, shapes and sizes, each child chose the pillow they wanted for the on-the-floor sit-down meetings Kelsey held at Raymond’s place. Most times, those meetings were story-telling time, nothing formal. Despite strict state regulations to operate a home of this nature, Kelsey made it real. The cooks provided homemade cookies and popcorn on request. There was someone on staff twenty-four-seven. She did everything to soften the rough edges of transitioning from homeless to foster care for some, and she provided medical treatment, counseling, or safe shelter for others. Her staff loved her. The kids adored her. Even the governor had his eye on Raymond’s Kids. The concept of integrated childcare for children at risk worked.

  “Hell, let the governor sit on the floor like the kids do. He’s nothing special. Don’t start thinking you have to impress him now, Kels. Stay true to who you named this place after.”

  Damned if she didn’t tear up again.

  “Way to go, Renner.” Tara punched his shoulder. “You sure know how to make friends.”

  “I do my best,” he answered, but then waved a hand under his nose. “But I would invest in a good room freshener if I were you.”

  “Same old Jeremy,” Tara deadpanned.

  “I can do that. Room freshener and pillows, it is. Maybe I’ll cancel those trays of hors d'oeuvres and order pizza instead.” Kelsey’s chest heaved as she blew out a long breath. “I’m so glad you guys showed today. Pillows and pizza will be so much easier, and clean-up will be a snap. I’ve got plenty of paper plates and—Whew. That’s actually a great idea.”

  “You’ll do fine,” Renner told her. “Don’t sweat the small stuff.”

  “Because Montego’s the real problem,
” Kelsey muttered darkly.

  “She is,” Renner agreed, the day suddenly more somber than it had been seconds ago. “Would you mind if I talked with Aaron? Is he around?”

  Her shoulders lifted. “We’ve already discussed security for tonight.” She glanced toward the hallway on her right. “He might be in the men’s room. Check that way. Tell him you work for Alex. He’ll know why you’re here.”

  “I can wait. Nothing urgent. I don’t want to bother him.”

  Tara pointed down the same direction. “Scram. He won’t mind. Besides, us girls need to talk.”

  “Yes, young lady,” Kelsey fussed. “Why aren’t you in the hospital?”

  That was Renner’s cue to run like the wind. He ambled down the hall to the men’s room, then leaned against the wall opposite the door and waited. And waited. Someone was in there. A toilet kept flushing. At last Aaron exited, fastening his belt. He was bald now, but still, like Bruce Willis, what women would call good-looking. Tall and more gaunt than trim, he wore jeans and a long-sleeved, hunter green, USMC t-shirt. Work boots. A half-smile.

  “Are you lost?” he asked, a gentle glitter in his eye.

  Renner stuck a hand out. “I’d like a couple minutes of your time if you can spare it. Renner Graves.”

  Aaron met Renner’s hand with a solid grip. His lips pinched as he sized Renner up and down. “Obviously you know who I am. Marine?”

  “Damned straight. Just like you.”

  “You’re one of Alex’s guys.”

  “Heard you were invited to join the gang, too.”

  Aaron’s gaze rolled back toward the restroom behind him. “Would if I could, but nah. Stomach runs my life now, I’d never last a day in the field. So, what brings you here? Bodyguard for a day?”

  “Looks like that position’s already filled.”

  “Ah, you met the guys.”

  Renner nodded. “It’s a good thing you guys are doing here. Let me guess. You’re staying in the basement.”

  “Yes, we are. So, what do you want?” Aaron crossed his arms over his chest, displaying Montego’s handiwork on his left hand where one-knuckle stumps remained instead of four fingers.