29. Luke
LUKE
I'm watching Hannah work the crowd near the food trucks when I spot Rico coming through the main entrance to the festival grounds.
I'd recognize that stride from a hundred yards out.
He walks like a man on a mission even when he's off duty.
Colonel Harlan is right behind him, looking out of place without his uniform on.
I don't think I’ve ever seen either of them in civilian clothing.
I excuse myself from Tank and his taco stand and walk toward them. Rico grins when he sees me. He pulls me into a handshake that turns into a hug and slaps my back.
"Look at you," Rico says, stepping back and looking around at the festival. "Small-town hero throwing a party."
"Hannah threw the party," I say. "I just own the dirt."
Harlan extends his hand and I take it. His grip could crush a coconut, same as it's always been. "Good to see you, Colonel," I say. "Thanks for coming."
"I wouldn't miss it," he says, scanning the grounds. "Nice setup. Your girl did good work."
"She really did," I say as I turn and spot Hannah near the welcome table, laughing about something with Debra Langley.
"Come on, I want you to meet her." Having this part of my life intersect with the life I've lived for the past twelve years feels good.
I get to show Hannah some of what I've been doing, even if it's only briefly.
When we reach Hannah, she looks up at me with curiosity.
I almost kiss her on the cheek but manage to pull back before I make this too awkward.
I'm feeling so comfortable around her lately, I just want to make this official.
But we've been so busy with investigating Dorsey and planning this festival, I haven't had a spare second to tell her how I feel.
"Hannah, I want you to meet two people who've been a big part of all this," I say, putting my hand on the small of her back. "This is Sergeant Major Elias Ramirez. We call him Rico. He's the one who did all the research on Dorsey's operation."
Rico takes her hand and shakes it. "It's an honor, ma'am," he says. "Luke's told me a lot about you."
Hannah laughs and looks up at me. My ears are burning. "It's nice to finally meet you, Rico," she says. "Thank you for everything you've done."
"And this is Colonel James Harlan," I say. "My commanding officer through three tours. He's the one who connected us with the ATF."
Harlan takes her hand and holds it gently. "Ms. Brooks, Luke speaks very highly of you," he says. "It's a pleasure."
"The pleasure is mine, Colonel," Hannah says, bowing at the shoulder as if he's a dignitary, not a Marine. "Luke told me you're the reason he survived the service."
Harlan glances at me sideways. "Nah, he's just too stubborn to quit," he chuckles. "I just pointed him in the right direction."
"That sounds about right," Hannah says, and Rico laughs with her.
"Hannah, if we might, I'd like to speak with Luke privately?" Colonel's eyes lift in a question, and Hannah pats my belly, stepping back. She understands why this has to happen, and I can tell she wants to be a part of it. But I've already told her it's safer if she stands back.
"Of course, you fellas catch up. I have festival duties, anyway." Her smile is as beautiful as ever as I follow the Colonel and Rico across the festival grounds over to the pier where we stand watching people passing by.
"Talk to me, Colonel," I say, leaning against the railing.
Harlan folds his arms and drops his voice.
"Cordero's team intercepted the supply vessel at oh-four-hundred this morning, about forty nautical miles offshore.
The Coast Guard boarded and secured the ship and the crew is in custody.
All communications from the vessel have been cut since before dawn. "
"So Dorsey has no idea," I say, looking over the crowd for where he might be.
"He has no clue," Rico says, leaning on the railing next to me. "His shore crew scattered after last night's delivery. The ones who stuck around have no way of knowing the ship's been taken."
"Where is he now?" I ask.
"He's here," Harlan says. "Cordero's people have eyes on him. He came in about an hour ago and he's been walking the festival like he owns the place."
My guess is that he's been waiting for the right moment to signal to his ship that they can start loading up a boat to bring in at dark. People will be distracted by fireworks. But he will never be able to make that call.
"The sheriff has a team staged two blocks out," Harlan continues. "When you give the word, they move in. Cordero wants it quiet. You need to get Dorsey away from the crowd and the sheriff's people will handle the rest."
"Understood, Colonel," I say.
Rico squeezes my shoulder. "You good with this?" he asks.
After a decade of service following this man's orders, I'm more than ready. I'd say this mission is safer than ninety percent of the ones I've taken in my life. "I'm good," I tell him.
"Then let's go get this son of a bitch," Rico says.
I push off the railing and scan the festival. It takes about thirty seconds to find Dorsey near the stage, holding a lemonade and chatting with Ray Perkins. Ray is doing most of the talking, which is typical, but Dorsey nods along with that smooth smile that's fooled every person in this town.
I walk toward him while Rico and Harlan hang back, fading into the crowd. My bad leg is cooperating for once, which I appreciate, but my chest feels ready to snap. Oh, how I'd love to choke the hell out of this bastard, and once he's in custody, I won't be able to.
Dorsey sees me coming when I'm about twenty feet out. His smile tightens, though, and he excuses himself from Ray with a polite word then turns to face me.
"Luke," he says, lifting his lemonade in a little salute. "Quite a festival. Hannah really outdid herself."
"She did," I say, stopping about four feet from him. "Can I have a word with you? Somewhere quieter?"
He studies me for a second with narrowed eyes. "Of course," he says. "Lead the way."
I walk him toward the far end of the pier, past the food trucks, where the crowd thins out. He follows beside me, sipping his lemonade. His pace is casual but his eyes are scanning the perimeter.
When we reach the end of the pier, I stop and turn. A few seagulls fight over a French fry on the railing, but out here, we're alone. There's nowhere for him to flee too, and there's only one pathway off this pier, which the sheriff will use to come out here.
"What's on your mind, Luke?" Dorsey asks.
"I know what you've been doing," I say, not even bothering to keep the accusation out of my tone.
"I know what's in those crates. I know about the shell companies and the freight operation out of Panama.
I know about the weapons Hannah and I photographed on your boat.
" I pause for a moment so that can sink in.
"And as of four this morning, the Coast Guard has your supply vessel in federal custody forty miles offshore. "
Dorsey's smile holds for about half a second before it fades and his eyes narrow.
They go black as sin and he glares at me.
"That's quite an accusation, Mr. Maddox," he says.
There is zero charm in his tone now. All that smooth talking has done him no good.
I've seen through him and he's about to be nailed to the ground.
"It's a fact," I say. "Your ship is gone. Your crew's in custody. The ATF has a file on you that will keep you locked up for a very long time." I take a step closer. "You’re washed up, Dorsey."
His hand tightens around the lemonade cup and I see it crumple in his grip. "You have no idea who you're dealing with," he says quietly.
"I know exactly who I'm dealing with," I say. "So does the ATF. So does the Coast Guard. So does the Coos County Sheriff's Department, all of whom are here today." I hold his glare and return it openly. "You're done in Bandon, Dorsey."
He takes a half-step backward and his eyes dart toward the parking lot as if he wants to try to escape. "I wouldn't," I say, shaking my head.
But he looks past me and sees what I already know is there. Two sheriff's deputies are coming down the pier, and behind them is a woman I'm guessing is Special Agent Cordero. Rico and Harlan have moved to block the only other way off the pier, which is access to his boat in its slip.
Dorsey's shoulders drop about an inch.
"Calvin Dorsey," the first deputy says when he reaches us, "you're under arrest. Please place your hands behind your back."
Dorsey sets the lemonade cup on the railing carefully, like he's putting down a drink at a party, then turns and places his hands behind his back as they read him his rights and cuff him.
I stand back gloating, feeling confident that this was the right move, and all I can think about is how glad I am that the man is getting locked up.
Dorsey looks at me over his shoulder as they walk him up the pier. I hold his stare until he turns away. The deputies put him in the back of an unmarked car at the far end of the parking lot and the car pulls onto the main road.
I stand at the end of the pier watching Hannah jog up. She's panting when she finally stops next to me. "Did they just—" she starts.
"They got him," I say. "It's done."
She holds both hands over her mouth as her eyes well up and then drapes her arms around my torso. I pull her close and rest my chin on top of her head.
"It's over," she says into my shirt.
"It's over," I repeat, wondering what we're supposed to do now. I've heard of relationships that are pulled together through trauma and this is definitely one. But what do we do now that the trauma is over?
When she pulls back her cheeks are wet but she's smiling. She wipes her face with the back of her hand. "Come on," she says, grabbing my hand. "People are going to want to talk to you."
She's right. Word has already spread across this small town festival, with varying degrees of accuracy. Tank meets us first and wraps me in a bear hug that makes my ribs creak.
"I knew that guy was dirty," Tank says, holding me at arm's length. "I told you, didn't I?"
"You sure did, Tank," I say, though he's not the one who made me believe this. I already knew it in my gut, but I'm grateful for good friends who help me see the light.
Margaret has that look of gratitude and joy on her face.
Mr. Brooks stands with her holding a birdhouse, but his expression is somber.
It feels so good, yet so painful, to stand in front of them knowing our past. It almost feels wrong to ask them to give me their approval to be with Hannah after what happened with Nick.
"Luke," Margaret says, taking both my hands. Her eyes are wet and her chin is trembling. "Thank you for protecting my daughter and this town."
"It was the right thing to do, Mrs. Brooks," I say.
"It was more than that and you know it," she says, squeezing my hands. She's right. I would've done this anyway, but knowing Hannah was here meant I knew I couldn’t fail. Hannah means everything to me now.
Mr. Brooks steps forward and extends his hand. I take it thinking he just wants a shake, but he holds it firmly instead. "You're a good man, Luke," he says. "I haven't always thought that. I want to be honest with you about that." He holds my eyes. "But I was wrong, and I'm man enough to say it."
My throat constricts and I have to look at the ground for a second. "That means more to me than you know, sir," I say, letting go of his hand.
"You know," Mr. Brooks says, turning the birdhouse over in his hands, "I've been thinking about the new pier. Margaret and I have been talking about it. That waterfront's going to bring in a lot of business now that it's at full capacity."
"It certainly will," I say.
"We've been kicking around the idea of opening something down there," he says.
"Maybe a small restaurant, or a market where the fishing boats can sell their catch directly to tourists.
" He looks at Hannah. "Your mother and I have some savings put away.
With the festival showing what this town can do, it feels like the right time. "
Hannah's hand tightens on my arm. "Dad, are you serious?" she asks.
"I'm always serious about business, sweetheart," he says. He holds up the birdhouse and looks at it. "If I can spot craftsmanship in a birdhouse, I can certainly spot an opportunity on a brand-new pier."
Margaret laughs and shakes her head at him. "He's been talking about this for two weeks," she tells us. "I told him to wait until after the festival."
"It is after the festival," Mr. Brooks says. "Technically, we're still at the festival, but the hard part is over."
"We'd love to have you on the pier, Mr. Brooks," I say. "Whatever you want to set up, we'll make it work." This makes my heart swell. Knowing I've had even a small part in helping Nick's dad want to jump back into business again feels like a miracle. I'd say we've come full circle.
He smiles at me. "Call me Rick," he says.
"Rick," I say, and I shake his hand one more time.
When I look at Hannah, she's got tears on her cheeks but she's beaming.
Margaret wraps an arm around her daughter.
Richard tucks the birdhouse under his arm and looks out over the pier, probably already picking out where he wants his new venture to be located, and inside I'm a wash of emotion.
I feel exhausted by it all. I just want to take Hannah to my home and hold her until we both fall asleep.
I take one more look out across the festival grounds and know how proud Nick would be if he were here. I know life hasn't been easy but I'm doing it, and I'm making things right. Now if I can just convince Hannah that being with me is what she wants, I'll have made the progress I hoped to make.
I just wish my father could see me now.