Chapter 6
“The general opinion from everyone I spoke to was that these kids are mostly gangster wannabes,” Rafe said as they pulled out of the Foxworth driveway.
It was getting late, and they were going to have to decide whether to press any of the people on his list tonight.
“There is a gang active in the area, but they don’t generally run that young unless it’s family.
And they don’t usually spill over into that neighborhood. ”
Blaine grimaced as he made the turn onto the street.
He was behind the wheel at Rafe’s suggestion, since although it had changed, this was still where he’d grown up.
Blaine suspected it was also as a distraction from his ever-tumbling thoughts, and the fact that they were on their way to see his ex-wife, who this time wouldn’t be avoiding him.
Only because she couldn’t, he told himself. She’d have to see him this time, because too much was at stake.
“Which means exactly what?” he asked. “That Ethan had to go and find them?”
“Pretty much,” Rafe said. “Or else they’re recruiting. Plus, I spoke to one of the detectives who’s on Ethan’s case, and she said the main operators in the area had some trouble last summer. Several of them landed in jail and are still there.”
Blaine spent a moment being thankful he’d called this man, even though at the time he’d had no idea about all the connections he—and the place he’d landed—had. But time to thank him again for that later.
“So they’re shorthanded and need more bodies for whatever crap they have going on?”
Rafe nodded. “Quite the going trade in car parts, from what the locally assigned county detective said. There’s the occasional house burglary when the opportunity arises and they know people aren’t home, but they mostly focus on cars.”
“But not the cars themselves, just car parts?”
“Easier to get away with. And the more expensive cars get, the more the parts are worth. And catalytic converters are the hottest part going. All those precious metals in them are worth a lot when melted down.”
“But we don’t know if that has anything to do with whoever Ethan’s taken off with.”
“No, we don’t. It’s just something to throw in the pot while we wait to see what bubbles up to the top.”
One corner of Blaine’s mouth twitched. “You sound like Rowdy, our old unit mechanic.”
“Rowdy,” Rafe said solemnly, “had a reputation that earned him the right to be quoted far and wide.”
“He did indeed,” Blaine agreed. He’d known Rafe would remember the man who had gotten his helicopter repaired in time to make the emergency flight that had saved Rafe’s life.
Things had changed enough that Blaine followed the GPS instructions until he got onto more familiar turf.
Which wasn’t until he turned onto Camino Capistrano and headed south.
Just past the mission itself he made the left onto Ortega Highway and headed inland, away from the more expensive real estate between Interstate 5 and the coast.
They’d driven in silence for several minutes before Rafe asked quietly, “How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”
“A long time. When I’ve seen Ethan, she makes sure she’s nowhere around. Used to have a babysitter there when I arrived, so she didn’t have to see or talk to me.”
The signal ahead changed to red, and they came to a halt. He sat watching the light, telling himself to leave it there. But he couldn’t seem to do it. It was roiling around inside him and he couldn’t keep the lid on it. Nor could he help sounding angry when it burst free.
“I’ve never understood it. How she could stand by me like a rock through all that…crap, but walk away just when things were back to normal?”
“Women,” Rafe said, sounding cautious, “have a very different way of looking at some things.”
“I’ve noticed,” Blaine answered sourly.
He took a deep breath, calmed himself much as he’d sometimes had to in a combat zone. Played Rafe’s words back in his head. Words that sounded as if they were born of firsthand experience.
Then, with a glance at the man in the passenger seat, he asked, “You seem different. Things change for you in that arena?”
“A lot,” Rafe said, and there was no mistaking the smile that spread across his face as anything less than happy. He met Blaine’s gaze and added, “Long after I thought there was no chance in hell we’d put it back together, we did.”
Blaine drew back sharply, wondering if that had been a bit pointed, and aimed at him. He almost missed the change of the traffic light, but was thankful he had to turn his gaze back to the road ahead.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he finally said.
It sounded cliché even as he said it, but he meant it. Just because it hadn’t and would never happen for him didn’t mean he had to begrudge anyone who put their life back together. Especially someone like this guy.
“Never thought it would happen. Never even dared to hope.”
Blaine was glad he didn’t turn that into advice for him to do the same. But then, Rafe had never struck him as the kind of guy who went around handing out unsolicited advice.
When he made the last turn, onto the street that held the address she’d given him, he slowed to a snail’s pace.
Not just because it was a small, residential street, but because he felt as if he were approaching the edge of a very steep cliff.
When this encounter had been days away he’d been fine.
Hours, and he was starting to get edgy. But now, when it was mere minutes, and that in a single digit, it was all welling up inside him—the pain, the longing, the anger.
“It’s a mission,” Rafe said. “Just like any other. Eyes on the goal.”
So now the man was a mind reader? Something he maybe picked up from whatever woman was tough enough to take him on?
“She must be really something,” he said.
“That she is,” Rafe said softly. Then he gave Blaine a sideways look. “Don’t go thinking it’s easy, though. She’s tough, smart, stubborn and determined.”
Blaine had the thought that it would take all of that to deal with this man as he looked back at the road, at the numbers on the houses they passed.
His heart took a leap, then seemed to stop in his chest. The instant he’d spotted the little house on the next corner, he’d known.
The sharply angled roof that went up on one side then dramatically dropped off vertically on the other to meet the rest of the building caught his eye, but it was the garden that told him.
The glorious garden, with several trees, including a couple he thought looked like orange trees.
The lower level was green with splashes of color everywhere, even in November.
He recognized her beloved snapdragons, something else shorter but similar in color and profusion, and even a couple of what looked like Christmas things—poinsettias, was it? —only they were pink rather than red.
“That’s it,” he said, his voice tight. “She always wanted the most garden she could get, but…never had it before, because she never knew when we might get transferred.”
She did it, and she did it without me.
He parked at the curb in front of the place, feeling, oddly, that assuming it was okay to park in the driveway would be…presumptive. He got out, walked toward the house and suddenly stopped, unable to take another step. He’d faced active battle zones with less trepidation than he was feeling now.
He felt a nudge on his right leg and glanced down to see Cutter looking steadily up at him.
Automatically, he reached down to touch the dark fur on the dog’s head with a gentle pat.
And felt it again, that flow of comforting warmth.
After a moment he straightened up, thinking he might be able to do this now.
Rafe had understated his furry partner’s capabilities.
“Just how much extra are you paying her a month?” Rafe was looking around, as if inspecting the neighborhood. Then he looked back at Blaine.
He shrugged. “As much as I can. After what she went through getting me back on my feet, I didn’t want her to have to deal with being broke.”
“Even after she left you.”
“She’s still the mother of my son.” And the only woman I’ve ever really loved. He didn’t say the last part, but he had the feeling Rafe, this Rafe, the new Rafe, just might understand.