Out of the Storm (8 page)

“Pretty good. Face is still a little tender, but the doctor said I can come home.” She exhaled deeply. “Thank God. I couldn’t stand another night in here. It’s lonely.”

“I’m glad you can come home. I know a little girl who’ll be thrilled.” His smile broadened as he pictured Kylie’s reaction. “Did they say when I can pick you up?”

“’Bout one if it’s okay. I know you’re real busy and....”

“One’s great,” Eric interrupted. Why did he sound so anxious? He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “I mean—I can work with that,” he forced a neutral tone.

“Glad to hear it.” Silence hung in the cool air. “How’s Kylie?”

“Fine. Lu’s taking care of her like she was her own.” Eric recalled her laughter in the back yard earlier.

“I knew she’d be fine with you.” Silence. “Eric,” Ashley whispered. “I’m real sorry.”

“Sorry?” he puzzled. “I don’t…”

“’Bout dodging your questions,” she broke in. “Not answering you today at the hospital. About how we got to your house. You been so nice. Things been kinda scary lately. You get to a place where you don’t trust anybody.” Ashley was silent. He could hear her breathing. “But, I…I should have told you.” She paused a second time. Eric heard a deep breath, then a second. Gathering her courage? “We took a bus. From Norfolk to Boston. Then to Exit 6 on the Mid-Cape Highway. I had directions and enough to pay for our tickets but no cash left so when we got to the exit we had to walk. It was either that or sit at the bus station and…well, we just couldn’t do that. But it was raining so bad. I was worried ’bout Kylie and Rusty.”

“Thanks for telling me how you got here.” He stopped. “But I still don’t know why.”

“All I know is Ralph wanted us to leave. He acted scared. So we did what he told us. He didn’t want me to tell anyone. But I wanted you to know. I know I can trust you.”

“Ralph was really scared?” Eric probed.

“Seemed that way.”

“Thanks.” It made sense. Fit with the phone call. “Look, I appreciate you calling me, but you should go to sleep,” Eric whispered, trying to ignore the pleasant warmth he felt as he talked to her. He felt emotions stir that had lain dormant since that dark night a year ago. “You need your rest,” he insisted. “I’ll be by at one.”

“Okay.” He heard her breathing. “The things he said about you. About you being a good man. He was right. Goodnight, Eric,” she whispered back and hung up.

He stared at the cell for a long time, replaying her soft, smooth words over and over. She’d given him something. Insights that fit with the cryptic call from Ralph. It wasn’t an answer, but it was a beginning. Now, if Ron or Buzz could add flesh to this skeleton then maybe, just maybe, Eric could understand who and what he was dealing with. He lay back, exhaled deeply, and closed his eyes. But it wasn’t mystery or danger that came to mind. It was her, Ashley, her grand, velvet eyes, the delicious drawl, and the intoxicating vulnerability that covered her like a cloak. The alien thing that gnawed at Eric, the sensation this enigmatic girl had awakened in him was caring.

Chapter Ten

Eric lay staring at the ceiling, still replaying Ashley’s call. Was it possible? His brother the caring man the girls described? He wanted desperately to believe them. Was his dislike for Ralph coloring his judgment? Eric’s stomach tightened and burned. A sour taste filled his mouth. He was no detective. This was above his pay grade.

Eric went to the window and looked out on the tranquil Atlantic. The night was calm and soft. So soft. He inhaled deeply. This had been Elaine’s favorite time of year. A squirrel skittered down the porch roof as he put his hand on the screen. Transition was in the air, the time when spring blossoms into summer. Far out he could see the running lights of a ship heading southwest—something small heading to New York or the Jersey Shore.

Eric checked his watch. Ten forty-five. No chance he’d hear from Lip tonight. Eric was drained. Needed sleep. He turned off the ball game, throwing the remote on the bed. As he headed to the bathroom, Eric stopped to stare at the picture of Elaine on his dresser. A five-by-seven of the larger one in the living room. She looked up at him, innocent and exquisite, smiling from the garden on their wedding day.

Eric hated drugs. When his men succumbed to narcotics or alcohol abuse he took a hard line. Catching one of them meant an article fifteen and a thirty-day trip to the stockade. But tonight his mind was on overload. Eric pulled out a bottle from his dresser drawer and popped two five-milligram Valium into his mouth. Instead of swallowing the tablets, he chewed them, making for a quick and easy entry into the bloodstream. Returning to his bed, he left his clothes in a heap on the floor. Sleep overtook him in ten minutes.

****

Through a fog he heard the ringing. He was dreaming. Elaine was there. Eric wanted to stay with her—fought to. She was smiling deliciously at him, giggling, beckoning to him, but the ringing was unforgiving, relentless.

Eric gave in and opened his eyes. The morning sunlight streamed in through the sheer curtains, but he could tell by its angle it was early. The air had a damp feel. Last night’s cool, fresh breeze was a memory. He rolled over and reached for his cell. It fell off the night table, landing on the floor. The digital clock said 6:22. As he tumbled off the bed Eric grabbed the phone and pressed Talk.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Eric Montgomery.”

“Eric, it’s Lip.”

“Sorry. I was asleep.”

“Wake up, buddy!” his friend commanded. “I wanted to call you from home.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” Eric stopped his friend, needing to hear whatever Lip had found out. “What’s up?”

“Well...”

“Let me have it. It can’t be that bad.”

“That’s the problem,” his friend said with a tentative voice. “It isn’t anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“All I could find was name, rank, and serial number. When I tried to dig deeper, I drew a blank.”

By this time Eric was up, sitting on the edge of his bed. “What are you talking about? Who could shut you out?” His friend was a senior Naval Intelligence officer in one of the East Coast’s largest bases.

“I have no idea. All I know is that his records were pulled by someone a couple of weeks ago—first Friday in May to be exact. I couldn’t get them. The computer said, ‘File temporarily unavailable.’ No hard copies, either. I figured the thing on the computer was a glitch, so I sent my chief over to records. Nothing. Next thing I know I’m getting a call from the ranking officer over there. Jesus, the guy’s a rear admiral and he was on the horn before my chief even got back. He sounded tough and curious, too curious—asking me why I was interested. I gave him a BS answer. Told him that Ralph’s name came up in a routine inquiry into a security breach. Guy didn’t say shit. But I don’t know if he bought it.”

Eric sat on his bed trying to get his arms around what he was hearing, to put it together with what Ashley had told him. Ralph was frightened by something. And for him to put Ashley and Kylie on the street, to send them to him so suddenly with nothing meant it was no Saturday night barroom scuffle or an angry bookie. No, this was something heavy or dangerous. Maybe deadly.

And it was looking more and more like Ralph had sent them to find him. Eric didn’t know who or what to believe. Suddenly, a sick feeling gnawed at his gut. Eric wanted to know what had happened to Ashley’s mother.

“Lip, this is damn weird.” Eric whispered into the cell. “Ashley told me that Ralph was scared. I hadn’t talked to him in years, but the other day, just after they got here, I found a voice mail from him. Don’t know how long it had been there. But he
was
scared. Scared shitless.”

“
Je-sus
. You never told me that! He called
you?
” Eric heard his friend breathing heavily. “That’s FUBAR, Rick.” Lip was silent for a minute. “Sounds fucked up.” Lip’s interest seemed to ratchet up a notch. Like a bloodhound with a fresh hint of the scent.

“It surprised the hell out of me, too. Ralph was small time. Into nickel-and-dime shit. I told you about him.” Eric shook his head. “And now, according to what you’re telling me, as far as the Navy’s concerned, he doesn’t exist.”

“Oh no. He exists. At least his footprint. Name, rank, and serial number. But his records—what you Army guys call a 201 file—are missing.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Eric didn’t know what else to say. Maybe he could find out more from Ashley. Assuming she really did know anything more.

“Look, don’t worry. I’m not giving up on this. I’ve got the bit in my teeth. I’m gonna find out what’s going on.”

“I appreciate it. I know I’m putting you on thin ice, especially if this really is bad business. But can you find out where he is—his current duty assignment? I may want to come down there and… and talk to him.”

“You got it. I’ll solve this if it kills me.”

“Ron. You’re an old friend, so do us both a favor.”

“Okay. Shoot.”

“Make sure that doesn’t happen.”

****

Eric showered, got dressed, and went down to eat breakfast with Lu and Kylie. As he was about to take a mouthful of eggs, Louise kicked him gently. When he looked up he saw Kylie with her hands together and eyes closed. She mouthed a silent prayer.

“I’ll pick your mommy up and be back here before dinner, honey,” he promised with a reassuring smile when she finished.

“Thanks, Uncle Eric.” Kylie came around the table slowly and gave him a quick hug. Then she backed away and returned to her chair, attacking a big helping of scrambled eggs and English muffins heaped with a mammoth topping of orange marmalade.

Lu found Eric’s hand and squeezed it. When he found her eyes, they glistened. “See you this afternoon.”

He nodded and stood to leave.

Eric went to the marina and spent the next few hours, staring absently at the desktop. The QuickBooks software he’d called up stared back at him. His mind was on overload. He kept picturing Ashley on Friday night—wet, cold, and exhausted. Eric remembered their sparring at the hospital and her surprising phone call last night. They made him feel—what? He wanted her and Kylie to be safe, but what else? Hell, he’d only seen Ashley twice. What was he thinking…

“You okay, boss?”

Bobby stood in the doorway with a clipboard.

“Sure. I’m fine,” Eric snapped. “Why?”

“’Cause you’ve been staring into space for five minutes.” Bobby shrugged and showed a grin. “Is it…her?”

“Her? Who the hell are you talking about?”

Bobby knitted his brows and grinned. “You know who, Eric.” He paused. “Her.
Ashley
the
mystery
woman!” His attempt at a European accent left something to be desired.

He waved Bobby out and scowled, trying to focus on the laptop again. Eric thought about Bobby’s question. He’d resigned his commission and come home for two things: Elaine and peace. He’d seen so much death and misery—enough for two lifetimes. Young guys on his team, street kids in rags, the staff sergeant who’d been his mentor and best friend...All dead. Torn in half by AK-47s, RPG rounds, or blown to bits by IEDs. No, he’d come home to find a better life. Or thought he had. First Elaine’s death, now this—part jigsaw puzzle, part nightmare. Eric needed to find the truth.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Josephine Murray said as she stood in the doorway.

“Hi, Joey.”

“Had last night off. Thought you’d remember? I was hoping you’d call.”

“Yeah, I remember. I’m real sorry. It’s been a crazy weekend.”

She shrugged and came inside. “So I heard.” She raised her eyebrows. “I’m all ears if you want to share.”

Eric exhaled slowly, trying to gather a smile. “Don’t want to bore you.” Joey was sweet, pretty, available, and interested in him. Eric enjoyed her company. They’d gone out for dinner and a movie once or twice. But Elaine’s memory hung over him like a specter. Now this thing with Ralph and Ashley and Kylie.

“No, really, Joey. It’s complicated and kinda personal.”

Joey looked hurt but managed a smile. “I thought we were friends, Eric. Personal’s okay.” She stopped and watched him. “Talk to me.” She was determined, but Joey was the last person he wanted to talk to right now.

Bobby came to the rescue. “Hey, Boss. Joey.” He nodded in her direction. “Sorry to bother you. But I need a few minutes.”

Joey looked frustrated. Hurt. “Catch you later. At the Café. See ya, Bobby.” She returned his nod, did an about face, and left abruptly.

“Okay. Thanks. Catch you soon,” Eric said to Joey. He turned to Bobby. “You needed me?”

“Yeah.” Bobby followed Joey with his eyes. “I do.” He turned back to Eric. “Nice girl. Cute. And it’s no secret she likes you.”

“Thanks for the advice.” A frown crossed his face. “Look. I know she’s trying to help. But I got no time right now.”

Bobby held up his hands. “Okay, Boss.” Bobby looked around then stepped into the office. His expression softened. “It’s been a year, Eric. You know how I felt about Elaine. How everyone felt. But she wouldn’t want you to go on like this forever.”

Anger surged. Eric bristled momentarily but it passed quickly. He knew his friend didn’t counsel the lovelorn. Bobby was trying to help.

“Got no time for this right now,” Eric insisted as he stood. “What do you need? I’ve gotta go pick up Ashley. I’ll call later if I can’t get back.”

“What do you want me to do about the Jacksons’ Sea Ray?” Bobby asked.

The Jackson family had been good customers for three generations. One of the marina’s first. Allen had lost his job recently and they were having financial problems.

Eric shrugged, scratching his day-old beard. “What would you do?”

“Hell. You know I go back a long way with Al. He used to catch my touchdown passes in high school. I’d give ’em another month.”