Chapter 2
In their customary ending, Clint kissed his fingers and put them over his computer camera, repeating his previous words, “Stay safe.” This time, those two simple words carried extra meaning.
The last several hours had been a mortality check for him.
He’d been hospitalized before as a consequence of a gunshot and again for being stabbed severely, but neither was a near-death experience.
While in the Army, he’d lost people. Some had served directly under him; only two had served at his side.
No one had been as close to him as Javier, though.
As he and Ashlin ended their call moments ago, it hit Clint like a building falling on top of him…
her job was just as dangerous as his. He could lose her.
She could be gone from his life just as fast as Javier.
“No!” he shrieked at the computer screen as his balled fists slammed on the desk.
Van came running into his brother’s rooms and threw his arms around Clint’s shoulders from behind. Van dropped his head, so his lips were next to Clint’s ear. “Let it out. Scream at the injustice. It’s all part of the grief cycle. You’ll get through this.”
Clint’s hand automatically went to his younger brother’s forearm, which was draped across his chest. He couldn’t correct his misconception.
At that moment, Clint wasn’t agonizing over Javier’s death but the possibility of Ashlin getting killed.
Van didn’t know Clint was married. No one in his family knew.
After returning from Las Vegas, he’d never mentioned it, and no one had never asked about the gold band he now wore on his left ring finger.
Although the Riggs was very close, starting in their teenage years, there had been an unwritten pact to never discuss sleeping partners or love lives unless willing to open their own for analysis.
He was quite sure his father hadn’t noticed it; he was oblivious to anything except for black ops missions, archaeology, or Lynette Riggs.
His mother had been away for quite some time, doing her duties as director of the Office of East African Affairs for the United States government.
His sister, Xena, had been called away on back-to-back solo missions but should be home soon.
Part of him wondered if she would notice and ask him about it.
Not something he had to worry about in the moment.
“Denial is the first step in loss recovery.” Van’s words brought Clint’s attention to the present.
He squeezed his brother’s arm and stood while closing his computer down to a black screen. Although he was sure both he and Ashlin had signed off completely, he wasn’t ready to talk to anyone about his wife, least of all to Van.
“Thanks.” He gave his brother a hard hug and a few fisted pounds on his back before stepping away from his desk, diverting his brother’s gaze from the now-blank screen.
“I know.” Clint took a deep breath and cleared his mind as he let out the air from his lungs very slowly.
“I’m not looking forward to telling Theodora. ”
Van glanced down at his watch before meeting his gaze. “Do you think she’s awake?”
“I hope so. The sooner I get this done, the better I’ll feel,” Clint confessed.
“I’d offer to go with you, but I’ve got to fly a bunch of Dad’s students and recent discoveries to Cairo.”
“Thanks for the offer, but this is something I probably need to do alone.”
Van held Clint’s gaze. “I know it’s soon, but as soon as you tell your men they’re going to want to know, who are you going to pick to replace Javier?”
Clint rubbed his hand over his face, then collapsed into his chair.
“I haven’t thought about that yet. But you’re right, the men are going to want to know.
Murillo is next in line. He’s an okay guy.
I never served with him.” He swallowed hard before he continued, “Not like Javier. We’ve been through more firefights together than I can count. ”
Van squeezed his shoulder. “Give Murillo a try, but give him a real chance. Nobody’s going to replace Javier. And if he doesn’t work out, move him to the new team Dad is standing up. Maybe he’ll do better under a different commanding officer.”
Vance slapped him on the shoulder before he headed out the door. “Good luck, big brother.”
While Clint showered and changed into his everyday clothes of black cargo pants, black T-shirt, black shit kickers, black utility belt, black holster, black gun, and three black magazines, he reviewed everything Ashlin had suggested.
He took a good look at himself in the mirror as he brushed through his long dark hair and tied it back with one of the black rubber bands he kept in his left front pocket.
No blood splatter. He’d even shaved his several-day-old beard, more as procrastination than necessary grooming.
He glanced at his watch and decided he needed to leave.
It would be better to wake her up than for her to hear the news some other way.
He couldn’t imagine how, but gossip traveled through the compound faster than water through river rapids.
It was only a short walk down the hill from the big house, where the Riggs family lived and his father’s archaeological students worked on recent discoveries. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the residence occupied by Javier and Theodora Castillo.
He rang the bell.
While he waited, his gaze wandered to the other identical houses his family had built for married couples who worked for them.
A hundred feet away was the three-bedroom home of Zala, their cook, and Joseph, their amazing gardener.
Across the blacktop road in a one-bedroom was the excavation director of one of his father’s archaeological sites and his wife, who was a geologist. She worked for Zesaro Neberu, the Saudi billionaire who owned most of the mining rights in Ethiopia.
Clint smiled. Through her and his family’s connections, he’d been able to secure the gold and emeralds needed to have Ashlin’s birthday present made by the best jeweler in Addis Ababa.
He lifted his finger to ring the doorbell again when he heard the deadbolt slide. The door cracked open, only the length of the security chain. The left half of a tired woman’s face appeared in the visible six inches.
“May I ask…Major Riggs?” she said in a sleep-worn voice. “Is Javier with you?” She asked while trying to peer around him through the small opening.
Clint took a deep breath. Here goes. “Theodora, may I please come in?” Shit. He forgot to introduce himself. He quickly added, “I’m Clint Riggs, Javier’s team leader.”
He’d met Javier’s wife several times. They’d been to dinner at the big house for holidays, but their home had been filled with dozens of guests then, often including Ashlin, so his attention had been elsewhere.
He was sure that she had also accompanied Javier to casual meals, but at that moment, he couldn’t remember what she looked like.
“Oh, Clint. It’s really you.” He thought he detected a smile in her voice.
Well, he was her husband’s boss. This certainly wasn’t a social call.
He was about to disappoint her. Crush her, most likely.
“I’m sorry, Clint. I have to close the door to take the chain off.
” Her Texas accent came through strong and clear.
He folded his hands in front of him and nodded. “No problem, ma’am.”
When the door finally opened, she wore a mid-thigh black-lace-trimmed red robe over matching baby-doll pajamas that barely covered her large breasts and baby bump. With an overzealous smile, she opened the door and swung her arm to the side. “Clint,” she exclaimed breathlessly. “Please come in.”
After closing the door behind him, they stood awkwardly in the small foyer, neither saying a word for a long minute. Clint decided she might take the news better sitting down. That way, if she fainted or fell over, he wouldn’t have to pick her up. “This might be better if we sit down.”
Theodora gestured to the living room on the right. “Please, have a seat.”
He glanced around the small room and decided to take the overstuffed couch.
In his estimation, it was the only furniture large enough to hold his sizable body.
As he carefully lowered himself down, he wondered where Javier normally sat.
Probably in the recliner that faced the television.
To his surprise, Theodora settled on the couch beside him.
A little too close for his comfort. She dramatically pulled her robe together and tied it under her breasts.
He swore she used her arms to push them closer together to increase her cleavage.
She reached over as though to touch his leg, so he readjusted his position by pulling his knees together.
Maybe sitting down wasn’t the right idea.
Clint quickly stood and faced her. Not knowing what to do with his hands, he folded them in front of him.
Rip off the Band-Aid. Be brief, be concise. Tell her only the basic facts.
“Theodora, I’m very sorry. Javier was killed in the line of action last night.” Clint swallowed hard. “The doctor on staff did everything we could.” His voice broke. “But he just couldn’t save him.”
Javier’s wife just stared up at Clint, looking so small on the low-slung dark blue couch filled with geometric designs.
She blinked. Her jaw dropped, then her mouth closed.
Her mouth opened as though to say something, but she only sucked in a breath.
“Jav…Javier’s not coming home?” she asked in a shaky breath.
“No.” But his body was already in the compound’s morgue.
Should he tell her that? It didn’t seem to be the right time, so Clint didn’t say anything else.
He then remembered that he needed to continue with the business of death.
“We’ll handle all the arrangements for sending his body back to Texas, but it might be a week or so before we have a transport headed to the US. ”
She just stared at him.