Returning to Eden (Acts of Valor, Book 1): Christian Military Romantic Suspense

by Rebecca Hartt

  “Easy.” Jonah’s soothing voice encouraged her to relax. He checked the magazine and put the gun away.

  Glancing into the mirror, Eden realized Miriam had stopped reading.

  “What’s happening?” she demanded from the back seat.

  “Nothing,” Eden told her. Jonah’s being paranoid, she thought to herself. She cut him a pleading look. “Please don’t take that out in the car.”

  Dividing his attention between the road ahead of them and the mirror on his side of the car, Jonah ignored her comment.

  “There’s a visitor’s center coming up in two miles. I want you to pull off and see if the car follows us.”

  “Jonah, we are not being followed.”

  He stayed quiet so long she thought perhaps he hadn’t heard her.

  “You’re probably right,” he finally said. “But I also have to pee,” he added, lightening the tension in the car.

  “So do I,” Miriam said from the back seat.

  “Fine,” Eden agreed. Considering Jonah’s suspicions, she eyeballed the car behind them, trying to see inside, but the downpour kept the windshield blurry, which distorted her view of the driver. Time dragged as they traversed the two remaining miles to the rest area.

  At last, Eden guided the car off the highway, dismayed to see the Charger exit behind them.

  “He’s following us,” she reported. Her heart gave an erratic beat. What if Jonah was right?

  “Pull up as close to the building as possible,” he instructed. Eden could hear the gravity in his voice, which did little to reassure her.

  She parked between a soft-top Jeep and a pick-up truck with a dog kennel in the bed. She, Miriam, and Jonah all kept quiet as they watched the Charger creep past them. The Jeep to their left backed out, giving them a clear view of the Charger parking in a handicapped spot.

  “Stay here for now.” With that brief warning, Jonah opened his door and shot out of the car. Eden watched him stride through the rain toward the rest area. Instead of going inside, however, he ducked into the sheltered portico and hid behind one of the brick pillars. To the casual eye, he’d simply disappeared.

  Eden and Miriam both regarded the Charger. The driver’s door opened. Eden held her breath as she waited to see if Jonah’s fears were founded. An umbrella opened, and then a silver head appeared. The oldest man Eden had seen in a while closed his car door and shuffled through the rain toward the building. Eden blew out a long breath and mentally rolled her eyes.

  Her poor husband had been deeply scarred by his experience in captivity. Last night, he’d insisted he wasn’t crazy, wasn’t suffering an episode, but the evidence to the contrary was too obvious to ignore. He’d thought that old man was out to kill him, the way he thought Jimmy Lowery was trying to do him in.

  “Dad’s freaking out for nothing,” Miriam stated from the back seat.

  “Yeah,” Eden agreed.

  They sat in the car a second longer digesting the uncomfortable implications.

  “I’m going inside,” Miriam declared. Scrambling out of the car, she slammed the door extra hard behind her.

  Eden flinched. This was so not what either of them needed or wanted right now.

  Watching the old man make his way up the walkway, eyes on the cement in front of him for fear of falling, Jonah reeled a moment in self-doubt as he relinquished his conclusion that the man was an assassin.

  With the adrenaline in his bloodstream draining away, Jonah let his head fall against the brick pillar. He didn’t even want to look at Eden for fear of seeing her reaction. Before the old man could catch up to him, Jonah swiveled and marched into the men’s facility to relieve himself.

  Dawdling over the sink a moment later, he glared at his reflection. What if I am crazy? The grave-eyed man in the mirror didn’t look haunted or confused. He knew exactly what was going on, when he wasn’t drowsy because of his medication.

  Recalling Miriam’s advice earlier, Jonah pulled his pill bottle out of his pocket. Eden had set it on the sink at her parents’ house that morning so he wouldn’t forget to take it. Unscrewing the top, he waited for the other man at the sink to turn toward the hand dryer before upending the contents of his bottle into the sink. Watching the remaining pills swill down the drain, he suffered a twinge of his conscience for polluting the environment. But deep down, he felt relieved, in control again.

  No hitman was going to catch him off guard because he was half asleep.

  Stuffing the empty bottle back into his pocket, he turned toward the door, holding it open for the old man, who was also leaving. Probably would have made the man’s day to hear Jonah had thought him a gun for hire. With a wry smile, Jonah stepped outside.

  Seeing the Jaguar empty, he waited out front for Eden and Miriam to join him. They emerged at the same time, both of them wearing taut expressions, their eyes full of pity.

  Jonah heaved an inward sigh, determined to clear the air immediately.

  “All right, so I overreacted.” He threw an arm around both of them, giving them each a squeeze. “It’s not the end of the world.”

  He was pleased to see Miriam’s quick smile in response to his mollifying. Eden, on the other hand, remained somber. He wished he knew what to say to reassure her. But, honestly, things could get a great deal worse before they got better.

  The truth was—and he still believed it—he could be targeted without warning and at any moment. His only hope was to find LeMere’s journal and use it to finger Lowery before that man took action against him again.

  Eden stood at the study door watching Jonah rifle through the bookcase in frantic search of the notebook allegedly implicating Dwyer’s XO. Picturing lanky Jimmy Lowery’s tensely held shoulders and eager expression, she couldn’t imagine him doing anything to upset the status quo. Yet, her husband was clearly convinced he’d betrayed him to the point of plotting Jonah’s death.

  With a look of disappointment, Jonah, who’d arrived at the last book in the built-in shelving unit, turned to look at her. “Can I look in your room?”

  She gave a quick shrug. “Sure.”

  “Thanks.”

  She followed him as he strode to their bedroom. Watching him work through her private collection of books, she emptied her suitcase of the clothes she had packed but didn’t get the chance to wear. When he reached the bottom shelf, she could sense his agitation rising.

  Straightening, he raked a hand through his hair and touched his gaze on every surface as if wondering where else he might have put the journal. Wandering over to the bed, he startled her by sitting on it like he was accustomed to being there. As she tossed her dirty clothes into her bin in her bathroom, she saw him stand up and lift the end of the mattress.

  “Found it!”

  Eden looked from the marbled composition notebook he was clutching in his hand to his triumphant expression. She approached him in disbelief. Surely, that notebook hadn’t been there for over a year. She’d stripped and remade the bed dozens of times and never noticed it.

  Without a word, she watched Jonah flip through the pages, scanning them rapidly. His intensity caused her to turn cold. What if there was something to Jonah’s suspicions after all?

  She stepped closer, wanting to see the journal for herself.

  “Is it what you thought it was?”

  Glued to the words written on a certain page, he didn’t answer right away. When he looked at her, his green eyes blazed with urgency. “I need to make a phone call.”

  Excusing himself from her bedroom, he headed back to the study.

  Eden trailed him. Obviously he considered his business private but, as far as she was concerned, she deserved to know what was going on. She heard the study door close as she approached the front hall. Miriam was out walking the dog, whom they’d just picked up from Nina’s house. No one would be the wiser if she stood outside of Jonah’s room and eavesdropped. She had to know right now if his suspicions were real or only imagined.

  Which would be worse, she wo
ndered, as she inclined her ear toward the closed door—finding out her husband had lost touch with reality or discovering Jimmy Lowery had, in fact, tried unsuccessfully to kill him?

  Accessing his contact information for Lloyd Elwood, Jonah got nowhere trying to call the man’s cell phone—not even his voicemail picked up. Looking back at Elwood’s business card, Jonah dialed the second number, then listened over the thud of his own heartbeat to the man’s phone ring and ring. He was formulating a message in his head when a woman answered, sounding out of breath.

  “This is Charlotte Patterson.”

  Jonah frowned. “I’m sorry. I thought this was someone else’s number.”

  “This is Lloyd Elwood’s office number.” The answer betrayed a level of suppressed emotion. “May I ask who’s calling?”

  Figuring he’d be put through to Elwood after he introduced himself, Jonah gave his name.

  “Oh,” she said, “I know who you are.” There was no mistaking the strain in her voice this time. “You’re the Navy SEAL.”

  “Yes,” he said.

  She heaved a shaky sigh. “I’m sorry to tell you this, Lt. Mills, but Lloyd’s dead. He was killed by a car on his trip out of town.” Her voice quavered. “It was a hit-and-run. No one’s been charged yet.”

  Patterson’s distress was the first thing that penetrated Jonah’s consciousness. Then the actual finality of Elwood’s life. Then the implications of a hit-and-run. He sucked in a breath. Was it possible Elwood’s death—if it had been intentional—had anything to do with Jonah’s own situation?

  “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. He could tell from the woman’s voice she’d been close to the man. “Do you work with him—did you?” he corrected himself.

  “Yes, I’m familiar with the investigation involving your disappearance.”

  How familiar? he wondered.

  “He was hoping your memories would start to return,” she added. “Have they?”

  He didn’t yet know if he could trust this woman or whether her involvement might put her at risk, considering what had happened to Elwood.

  “Was the hit-and-run an accident?” he asked instead.

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t,” she said in a tight voice. “Lloyd wasn’t dead twelve hours before his desk was emptied and the hard drive removed from his computer.”

  “Who took it all?” Jonah asked, appalled that Elwood’s hard work might simply disappear.

  “Men in suits. No one would tell me who they were or why they were there.”

  “Can you ask your supervisor who’s taking over for Elwood?”

  “Lloyd Elwood was my supervisor. And, right now, I don’t know if I trust anybody. No one’s talking about what happened to Lloyd, and I’ve been told to take a vacation.”

  With rapidly rising concern, Jonah moved to the window to peer down at the quiet street. If Elwood had been targeted for investigating Jonah’s disappearance, then Jonah was probably next. The fact his memories were returning didn’t need to be broadcast.

  “Listen, I think maybe you should let this go,” he suggested. Patterson sounded like she was still in her twenties. God forbid something bad happened to her, too.

  “Hell, no,” she growled. “I am not letting Lloyd’s hard work be brushed under the carpet like nothing happened.”

  Jonah had to admire her loyalty, but he needed someone with experience to help him.

  “You said his hard drive was taken. How are you planning to proceed without it?”

  “I think that question is best discussed face-to-face, along with the reason for your call. Where would you like to meet? Name any place, bring anyone you want with you, and I’ll meet you there. The sooner the better,” she added intently.

  Jonah hesitated. How could an inexperienced special agent help him when the organization she worked for told her to take a vacation?

  “I have a powerful contact in the Defense Intelligence Agency,” she added as if reading his mind. “I can help you.”

  All at once her inexperience didn’t seem to matter. Not only was she motivated to avenge her supervisor’s death, but she knew someone who might actually wield sufficient power to make a difference.

  “All right,” Jonah said, deciding to trust her. Looking down at the notebook in his hands, thinking of Elwood’s recent death, it hit him like a punch in the gut that he’d been in this position before and look what had happened. The fear that had been growing in him since his return mushroomed.

  Where are you, Father? Do you know what’s happening?

  Reviewing all the information at his disposal, Jonah came to a sobering conclusion. Elwood’s mysterious death and the fact that men in suits cleared out his office suggested intrigue that went beyond Lowery disseminating intel to unknown recipients. Even though Eden was standing by Jonah’s side these days, Jonah couldn’t stay with her, not without putting her and Miriam at risk. What’s more, he needed protection only a teammate could offer. That meant he had to leave, taking the evidence he’d just found with him, and ask someone like Master Chief to take him in.

  With a shudder of regret, Jonah glanced over at the duffle bag he’d brought in from the car. He wouldn’t be unpacking it anytime soon.

  “Give me your cell phone number,” he requested of the fierce, young investigator. “I’ll text you the time and the place. And then we can talk.”

  The door between them kept Eden from understanding every word, but Eden could tell that Jonah’s call just ended. She backed quietly away from the door, lest it open suddenly. When it didn’t, she approached it again to hear what Jonah might be doing. It sounded like he was opening his dresser drawers, probably unpacking his bag. She figured it was safe to knock.

  Momentary silence was her only reply before Jonah said on a subdued note, “Come in, Eden.”

  She stepped into the room and faltered to a halt. Instead of unpacking his duffel bag, Jonah was filling it completely with pretty much every item of clothing he still owned, apart from the uniforms she’d recovered.

  “What’s going on?” she asked. It looked like he was planning to take off somewhere.

  Jonah stuffed a fistful of socks inside the bag before turning to look at her. The pained expression on his face made her stomach cramp.

  “We need to talk,” he said, gesturing for her to sit in the chair at the desk.

  Ignoring him, she locked her knees in expectation of bad news. Jonah was leaving. His really did have PTSD, and it was even more serious than she’d thought. Help me, Lord.

  He heaved a sigh as if reading her thoughts. “Look, I know you don’t believe me about Lowery. Maybe you think you know him better than I do.”

  She gasped. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing,” he said on a weary note. “You have a point. Lowery comes across like a rule follower. It’s hard to believe he’d betray the squadron in any way, shape, or form. But LeMere’s journal details information that’s hard to ignore. And now Elwood, the investigator looking into my disappearance, is dead.”

  “What?” She hadn’t seen that coming.

  “He died in a hit-and-run just the other day. I don’t think it was an accident.”

  Her jaw became unhinged as she interpreted his meaning. “You actually think Jimmy killed him?” It was hard not to mock the outrageous notion.

  Jonah’s face turned to stone. He took a step toward her, causing her thighs to flex with the urge to back away.

  “Listen.” His tone was subdued but deadly serious. “My memory may be shot full of holes, but my intuition is as strong as ever. I have felt since I escaped from Carenero that my life is in danger. That means as long as I’m living in this house, you and Miriam are also in danger. Since nothing happened to you while I was gone, I’m taking myself back out of the equation. I’m going to live with Master Chief until Lowery is arrested and I feel safe again.”

  Devastated, Eden could only stare at Jonah. Why would God have given her a thumbs-up on their marriage if He’
d known Jonah’s fears were going to get the better of him?

  She tried one last time to reason with him. “What if your diagnosis is causing you to invent this threat?” she suggested gently. “Dr. Branson says—”

  “Dr. Branson is a civilian. He has no idea what’s been going on, and I’m not about to tell him.”

  With those words, Jonah eviscerated Eden’s only support system. That left her all alone with her husband’s PTSD ruining their lives—unless God knew something she didn’t know.

  Seizing that flimsy hope, Eden stepped abruptly toward Jonah, threw her arms around him and hugged him hard.

  “Please pray before you do this, Jonah,” she pleaded. “We need you here to complete our family.”

  To her relief, he welcomed her embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around her and burying his nose in her hair.

  “I don’t want to do this,” he grated in her ear. The emotion in his voice was wrenching.

  “Then don’t,” she said as she listened to his thudding heart.

  “I have to.” Prying free of her embrace, he crossed to the window and bent the blind to look outside. “Where’s Miriam?”

  “Still walking the dog,” she answered, while cringing at the thought of Miriam’s reaction.

  “I should go before she gets back.” He turned and crossed to the bed, zipping shut his bag.

  Eden shook her head. “You have an appointment with Dr. Branson on Tuesday,” she reminded him. “How are you going to get there?”

  “I’m not,” he answered, slinging his bag over his left shoulder.

  “You’ll be reprimanded if you don’t go.” Worse than that, he would never get over his condition without help and never be released for active duty.

  Jonah sent her a ghastly smile. “What can the CO do to me that hasn’t already been done?” He strode past her toward the door, where he turned and paused. “I will be back when this is over. Don’t give up on us, Eden.”