Chapter 20
Chapter 20
T he next day was slightly better. Grief and shock were still palpable, but now that the secrecy was over, Cal felt as if he could breathe, as if he could be himself and relax. He rose at his usual time and prepped the coffee.
Bailey walked in a minute later, her usually perky ponytail in place, her flawless clothes looking as if she’d ironed them when Cal knew for certain she hadn’t. Someday he would ask her how she accomplished that.
“Morning,” he said.
“Morning,” she responded.
“Coffee’s almost ready.”
“Great. Would you like some oatmeal?”
“Yes, please.”
She put the kettle on to boil and prepped their oatmeal.
“Coffee’s done,” he announced. “Black today?”
“Yes, please.” The only changeable portion of her morning routine, as far as he’d been able to tell, was that sometimes she took her coffee black and sometimes she added cream and sugar. He didn’t yet know what made the difference, and he added it to the list of things to ask her.
She reached to the counter beside him for her mug. He grasped her arm, pulled her close, and kissed her. She stood on her toes, leaning into him. When that still wasn’t enough, he picked her up and backed her into the wall.
The tea kettle whistled, startling them apart.
“Thank you for letting me make the first move today,” he said.
“Took you long enough,” she replied, shaking out of his grasp to turn off the tea before it woke Maggie and Cam. She poured the boiling water over their oats and set the hot teakettle aside.
“Is it okay with you if I make the second move?” she asked.
“I’m going to have to insist on it,” he said.
She drew him to her and kissed him. He picked her up and set her on the counter for easier reach. “Our oatmeal is going to get cold,” she murmured a while later.
“This is where that microwave earns its keep,” he replied.
But eventually he did lift her off the counter. They carried their oatmeal to the table. “How are you doing today?” she asked.
“Okay. It’s hard. It would be hard any way she went, but like this…” he trailed off and shook his head.
“Have you thought about any arrangements?” she asked. She was set to leave on Friday, but maybe she could postpone. No. She was done foisting herself on him. She would only stay if he asked her to.
“Isabel hated stuff like that. We’ll wait until the dust clears and have a celebration of life service in her hometown in California,” he said. “I should call her parents.”
“Did they know about the separation?”
“Yes. She blamed it all on me, and I’m fine with that, but I still owe them a call. It’s only proper. I expect I’m going to get an earful. Isabel has never done any wrong in their eyes.”
One didn’t turn out like Isabel without reason. Bailey could only imagine what her parents were like. But she didn’t say so. The woman was dead. There was no reason to bash her or flaunt her dislike.
Cal rested his hand on her knee. “You’re pretty good at this comfort stuff.”
“I only wish I could do more, could ease your suffering in some way.”
“You’ve already done so much more than you could know. To tell you the truth, I was half afraid you’d go on some kind of vigilante revenge raid or something.” He smiled at her. She stared at her coffee. “Bailey.”
Finally she looked up. He scowled. “You’re not planning something like that, are you?”
“I think the less you know, the better,” she said.
“No, absolutely not, no. I forbid it.”
“You forbid it?” she asked. She smiled, but it was more from irritation than amusement.
“That’s right. I’m your boss, and I forbid it,” he said.
“I’m leaving on Friday. Consider this my two days notice,” she said.
“You can’t.” For a minute her heart leapt, believing he meant she couldn’t leave. But no. “I will not allow you to go off half cocked on some kind of death mission with murderers and rapists.”
“I have never gone off half cocked in my entire life. And I’ve kind of spent the last decade fighting murderers and rapists,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee.
“Don’t be casual when I’m trying to be angry and stern with you,” he said, scowling.
“Don’t be angry and stern with me when I’m busy picturing you shirtless,” she said, earning a laugh from him.
“You stop that.”
“Which part?”
“Which part do you think?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe you’re shy and particularly modest,” she said.
“I very much look forward to proving to you I’m not. But I can’t do that if you’re dead,” he said.
“Better hurry. My plane leaves Friday.”
He scowled at his oatmeal. “I haven’t enjoyed this whole conversation.”
“Not even the part where I pictured you shirtless which, by the way, still going on.”
“Woman, you’re making me flustered,” he said.
“Am I?” she asked, imitating his soft southern twang as she gave his thigh a light squeeze.
“Is this what they teach in the marines these days?” he asked.
“Oh, no, baby, this is all natural,” she said.
“To think what I’ve been missing out on all these weeks,” he said, shaking his head.
“You still have a smidge of time,” she said, leaning forward to kiss the little spot behind his ear.
“Girl, that’s not nearly enough,” he said. He cupped her chin with his hand and kissed her, but he didn’t mention asking her to stay.
L ater that day, Maggie made supper and they invited Sully to eat with them. Sully and Cam had played football together when Sully was a freshman and Cam a senior and remained friends in the way only former teammates can.
“When are your parents coming back?” Sully asked the two brothers.
“Their cruise ends Saturday,” Cam said.
“You didn’t try to contact them to tell them?” Sully asked.
Cal shook his head. “There was nothing they could do. It’s not like there’s going to be a service, and they’re pretty much stuck on the boat until Saturday. It seemed like it would needlessly upset them.”
“Let’s hope they don’t get the news or TV,” Cam said. Isabel’s death had made national news, both because it was so gruesome and because she was a former Miss America, married to a former professional football player. Reporters had started to call almost immediately, but Bailey disconnected the landline. The remoteness of the ranch made it an unlikely spot for all but the most intrepid newshounds. So far none of those had shown up. As for Cal, his agent gave a statement on his behalf, and that seemed to stem the rising tide of curiosity seekers and ghouls.
They finished supper and pushed back from the table while Maggie cut the pie she’d made that day. Bailey could see why his dad liked her so much. She was sweet and soft and domestic but also sharp and wickedly funny. She reminded Bailey a lot of her mom.
“I got some news today,” Sully said, his tone grim. “They matched some DNA found on Isabel to Rodriguez, the head of the Cartel. It could only have been left by her killer, meaning he probably did it himself. There’s a warrant out and a request for extradition, but you know how that goes. It’s likely we’ll never get him. I’m sorry, Cal. That’s an extra blow, one I didn’t want to have to deliver.”
“It’s about what I expected, Sully. It’s not your fault,” Cal said. Maggie set a piece of pie in front of him and squeezed his shoulders. He almost laughed at her unerring belief that food would make anything better. His mind flashed to a conversation Cam relayed to him when he and Maggie were engaged. They’d been in the middle of an argument when Maggie insisted on stopping to taste test their wedding cake. You think cake can make everything better, Cam had snapped. Because it can. Cake can cure anything. Except diabetes, Maggie had returned, making Cam laugh so hard he forgot what they were fighting about in the first place. He wanted a love like that. Bailey touched his knee, and he realized he had stared at his pie in silence for too long. So he stared at her instead, his heart filling with dreams and possibilities that by all rights should seem impossible at the moment.
“Someone needs to stop them,” Sully said, drawing his attention back to the conversation. Except the conversation came to a standstill as everyone suddenly seemed unable to make eye contact with anyone else. “What?” Sully asked, as clueless as Cal, apparently.
“I think someone already has a plan to,” Cal said, looking between Bailey and his brother. “You too, Cam?”
“Bailey made some good points on the phone,” Cam said, scraping his fork across his empty plate.
“Look me in the eye and tell me you won’t do it,” Cal said. If his brother made the promise, he’d keep faith. He was that sort of man; they both were.
“Don’t make him do that,” Bailey said.
“You stay out of it. This is between me and him,” Cal said, turning his anger on Bailey.
“No, it’s not. This is war. That means it’s between me and him.” She motioned to Cam.
“Just stop. This is not Afghanistan,” Cal said.
“No, it’s not. You know why? Because there we had air and ground support. Here we have nothing. We’re on our own, and it’s only going to get worse,” Bailey said.
“How much worse could it get than my wife’s head in a box?” Cal roared.
“Next time it could be yours,” Bailey said quietly before getting up and excusing herself from the table.
A minute later, Cal poured a glass of iced tea and quietly left the house. Bailey sat in the glider, rocking gently. He sat beside her and handed her the tea.
“No, thank you,” she said.
He took a sip of the tea and set it on the table beside him. He slid his arm around her, and she leaned into him.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he said after a while.
“You’re understandably upset about everything. I get it, and I don’t blame you,” she said. She didn’t want to disturb the peace again, but she had to say what she needed to say. “Cal, you’re going to have to trust me on this. They need to be stopped or it’s going to keep going. Do you want Jinx to be next? Estralita?”
“I’m not saying they don’t need to be stopped. I’m saying you don’t need to be the one to stop them. That’s what the law is for.”
“When the law fails its people, the people take action. The government wasn’t protecting you. Isn’t that why you brought me here in the first place?”
“That was before,” he said.
“Before what?” she asked.
“Before I fell in love with you,” he said.
She paused. “I’m in love with you, too, Cal, but it doesn’t change who I am or what I need to do.”
“Bailey, I can’t stand by and watch you put your life on the line for something that has nothing to do with you,” he said.
She sat up and looked at him. “Nothing to do with me? It has everything to do with me. Haven’t you been paying attention? I said I’m in love with you. Do you think that means I can let this go on, knowing what they’re capable of, knowing what they’ve already done? And if you love me, it means accepting the soldier along with the woman. I will always be a marine, no matter where I am or what I’m doing. Semper Fi is more than an emblem on a jacket. This is what I signed up for; this is what I live for. If you have a problem with that, then you have a problem with me.” She reached across him and shoved the glass of tea into his hands. He took a sip, not really thinking about it until she refused it, shoving it back into his hands with the words, “Drink up.”
He froze. “Did you drug my tea?”
“Of course I didn’t drug your tea.”
But his head began to feel a little swimmy, exactly the same as when Jinx gave him the sedative two nights ago. “Then why won’t you drink it?” he asked, still suspicious.
She took the tea, downed it, and tried to hand him the glass but his fingers felt too weak and thick to take it. “I don’t feel so good,” he murmured. Or at least he thought he did. The sound was tinny, hollow.
Bailey moved aside and helped him to lie down in the glider. She smoothed her hand over his head a few times. “Sleep, sir.”
He grabbed her wrist. “You really didn’t drug my tea?”
She shook her head. “I drugged your pie.” She leaned in and kissed him full on the lips, and then everything faded to black.