Point of No Return (34 page)

Ali didn’t hesitate a heartbeat and went straight to the bed. Honey, in blue silky pajamas, lay on top of the covers of a king bed propped up with a mountain of pillows. Long legs stretched out. Grime and blood gone. A white bandage replaced the silver duct tape on her left hand. One eye was swollen, both blackened. Honey smiled and attempted to adjust the pillows. Ali carefully climbed onto the bed and helped.

Theresa touched his arm. “Don’t stay too long. She needs rest.” He nodded and Theresa left.

“You look . . . pitiful,” Ali announced.

“Hey, kiddo. Where’s your manners?” He went to the bed.

Ali’s head swiveled to look at him, lower lip sticking out, tears rolling down her cheeks. Ah, hell. He could take a beating better than tears.

“It’s okay,” Honey said, for Ali’s benefit as well as his. “I imagine I do look pitiful.” She swiped Ali’s tears away with her thumb.

“Tell Miss Honey what you came to say.”

“I want to thank you for helping me and Uncle. I really appreciate it,” she said with great solemnity.

“Come on.” He leaned to pick her up and she tucked against Honey. “Miss Honey needs to rest.”

“Stay. Please.” She circled an arm around Ali. “Plenty of time to rest later.”

Honey looked at him and his heart made a weird leap. A weirder buzz swarmed through his body, and
he knew
.

He remembered asking Lee how he knew Becca was the one. Lee had gone silent, then said there was no way he could explain it. He just
knew
. He thought big bro was brushing him off with that answer. Now he understood. He knew he loved this woman who leveled him with a smile. Made him understand what being a man was. Made him want to be better. Truth was . . . he’d known for a while. He’d been sidetracked by Lee’s death and
fear
. Fear he would have to give up the only way of life he’d known. Honey wouldn’t ask him to give up a thing. Without her asking, he wouldn’t hesitate to give up the world to be with her. His legs were a tad wobbly. Oh, yeah, he knew. He eased into the chair at the side of the bed closest to her, watching Ali counting bruises. He felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time, peace.

Ali pushed seriously curled hair off her forehead and leaned into Honey. “Do you like Uncle?”

“Ali.”

Honey flicked her eyes in his direction and took Ali’s hand. “I do. He’s a very nice and smart man. Why do you want to know?”

“You’re pretty. I think you should date him. He needs a woman.”

“Really?” He started to mount a protest but Honey held up a hand in a stop gesture.

Ali’s head bobbed. “You should know some things first.”

“And what are these things?” Honey said.

“He has bad manners.”

“Hey, give an uncle a break.” Where was this going? Ali was undeterred. He might as well not be in the room.

“He burps. Mostly after drinking beer. He taught me to do it without beer. Do you want to hear?”

“Okay. Enough. Let’s go.” He made a halfhearted attempt to stand.

“Can we save that for another time?” Honey ignored him also. “Anything else?”

Ali nodded and straightened her back, appearing ready to deliver news of earth-shattering importance. “And . . . he toots,” she said in a conspiratorial tone.

“Toots?” Honey asked, confused.

Ah, shit.
Was Ali trying to sabotage him? He tried to go invisible. All he could manage was to slouch lower in the chair.

“You know.” Ali waved a hand in front of her face. “A stinky toot. He and my daddy did it all the time. They blamed it on tree frogs, but I knew it was them.”

“This is very valuable information,” Honey declared. “I’m glad you shared it with me.”

“Nothing like being thrown under the bus by your niece. I think it’s time to go.” He pushed to his feet.

“Nooo,” Ali wailed, throwing in all the drama a seven-year-old could. “I want to stay.”

“Are these two bothering you?” Clare O’Brien said from the door.

“No. Come in and join us.” Honey was inviting but sounded as tired as he felt.

“Sorry, I have to break this up.” His mother went to Ali. “The adults want to come in and talk
breaking news events
.” She gave him a look and steered an indignant Ali to the door talking about ice cream. The moment his mom and Ali cleared the room, Kara, Honey’s team, her sister and brother-in-law flooded the room.

Kara took the TV remote, and over the fireplace a flat screen lowered from the ceiling. “They’re breaking in on the Global fire with a major news alert.” She settled on a news channel with a somber dark-haired female reporter.

“I’m repeating this for those just joining us. We have a confirmed report from the White House that is sending shock waves through Washington and the world. Vice President Ripley Jordan is dead from what doctors say was a massive heart attack. He was forty-six.” She went on, describing his illustrious political career.

“This is bullshit,” Gunny said. “He fucking has a heart attack and now nobody knows what the bastard did.”

“I know that man,” Gregg said. “He was strong, healthy. A heart attack at forty-six is highly unusual.”

“It wasn’t a heart attack unless you consider one’s heart being attacked by a bullet,” Honey said softly.

All ignored the somber reporter and turned to Honey.

“Are you saying someone got past the Secret Service, shot him, and they’re not telling the public?” Theresa said.

“That’s not what I’m saying at all.” Everyone waited for her to explain. “I made a call to the Secret Service agent in charge of the VP’s detail—” Honey paused, considering the irony of meeting the agent at the party in this house days ago. “Sent him a copy of Porter’s recording naming the VP as their government insider. He passed it to the DOJ, who then asked the Secret Service to detain him. I don’t know if he was told it had to do with Global. My contact said Jordan was being investigated for other things. I don’t know the details. With the fire, he might’ve had an idea. He went into the bathroom, stood in the shower, put a nine millimeter to his heart and pulled the trigger.”

“The bastard didn’t want to mess up his head so he could have an open casket,” Gloria said.

Geesus. This had far-reaching implications. He hadn’t really thought past revenge for Lee and Rebecca’s deaths. Honey’s career would be affected. So would the others’.

On the flat screen, a clearly agitated male reporter was talking about breaking news in the Global explosions. A man joined the reporter on air. “A local underground Internet newspaper, SecretsdotGov, reports Global was a front for an international identity theft organization. They claim they have audio, video, and Internet files verifying counts in the thousands of identity theft, murder, and three kidnappings.”

“Way to go, Kara,” Coop said.

Kara smiled wildly and curtsied. “I was glad to do it. I have to confess it was—” She paused and looked at Honey. He thought she was trying to figure what to call her. “It was Aunt Honey’s idea,” she said respectfully.

“Dear God.” Theresa came to take the chair he’d vacated.

“The website”—the screen split to show video captured at the height of the fire—“also claims the fire and explosions were intentionally set to cover the company’s crimes.” He continued droning on about the efforts to contain the fire and find bodies.

“You were all in there. In that,” Theresa said. Her husband came to stand beside her.

“Oh. No, ma’am,” Buck said. “By the time they were filming that we were long gone. That’s just the beginning of the firestorm.”

They went silent and watched different reports, most of which were speculation and incorrect. Only those reading directly from the Secrets website were correct. Even then, the reporters attempted to put their own spin on them like putting the splintered pieces of Global together,
all wrong
.

He’d risked Ali’s life and six people had risked theirs to help her and him. If their part in this got out, and he had no doubt at some point it would, their careers were trash. Or worse, jail. Military personnel on an unauthorized attack on civilians. Shit. What had he done? The life Honey loved would be gone in a flash. She would never forgive him and they would go their separate ways. What had he done? He would never feel her against him, taste her, take in her sweet scent again. His legs shaking and his breathing ragged, he went to the bed, dropping down on his ass.

“Dude, you’re corpse gray,” Buck said.

The doc crouched in front of him. “Dizzy?”

“Yeah.”

“Double vision?”

“For a second. I’m okay.” But he wasn’t. He’d lost her.

“Don’t doubt it. It’s a wonder you’re walking and talking with the beating you took.” He stood. “You need rest. So do you.” The doc looked at Honey. “Everyone out. The talking heads will be giving special reports and complete coverage for days.” He helped Jack to his feet. “You all know the real story and don’t need to watch.”

“Marines stay,” Honey said with enough authority that the four Marines stood in place as the rest filed out silently.

Chapter 29

Honey slept fitfully for a few hours. Her mind was overloaded with yesterday’s events and the ramifications. Finally she tossed back the covers and dressed. She gathered the courage to look in the mirror.
Damn.
She turned her face side to side. Like Ali said,
pitiful
. She went down the back stairs to the kitchen, she needed coffee.

Santiago and Buck sat at the table watching the news channel and stood the moment they saw her.

“Anything new?” she said on her way to the coffee machine.

“No. Just rehashing,” Santiago said.

“The wild speculation has begun,” Buck said. “I think they’ve found the shooter from the grassy knoll.”

Honey filled a cup and sipped the steaming liquid. “You two have Major Thornton watch?”

They exchanged sideways glances. “Yes, ma’am,” Santiago said.

“Okay. Contrary to how I look, I’m good, but I need to get some fresh air. See that gazebo by the pond.” They simultaneously looked out the windows and nodded. “I’m going down there. I want to be alone. You can watch me from the deck.”

At the gazebo, she sat with her feet on a cushioned bench hugging her legs. A red-winged blackbird flitted in the cattails and other birds she didn’t recognize chased insects over the water. She closed her eyes and let the tiny sounds of nature clear her mind. She’d always thought she could balance what she needed from her Marine Corps life with what was required of her from the family business. No more. Those worlds were on a deadly collision course. If anything was to be salvaged, one had to go. The Marine Corps had been a haven she couldn’t conceive of leaving. Now she didn’t want to go back. Last night she’d crossed the point of no return. Probably crossed it yesterday afternoon when she tased that mofu Moore.

What she wanted was to stop men like the VP and Moore from using their positions. Fuck that. She wanted to stop them from getting to the positions in the first place. The foundations her father built were designed to do just that. From educational and philanthropic to off-the-charts secret, like the one she’d hooked Coop up with, they were dedicated to stopping international crime and ruthless men. Tomorrow she’d start the process of claiming her board positions. A lot would depend on how fast and clean she separated from the military, what Moore would say and do. His career was over. No doubt he would be allowed to quietly retire. She doubted he would try to take a run at her. There was little he could say or do that wouldn’t implicate himself. There would be a scandal, forgotten in time. Her main concern would be protecting and taking care of Santiago, Gunny, Buck and Coop. Enlisted personnel didn’t fare as well in scandals as staff officers. She would not let them be harmed. They were each within months of reenlistment. Last night she’d offered them jobs and they’d jumped at the chance.

A door at the house closed. She glanced back and saw Santiago and Buck on the deck, watching Jack coming down the walkway to the gazebo. He limped slightly but looked considerably better than the last time she saw him.

And then there was Jack
. She rubbed her temples. Their worlds certainly had collided, their arrangement disintegrated.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she said.

He sat on his haunches next to her. “You doing better?” He didn’t look at her, just gazed out on the pond.

“Yes, are you?”

“Okay. Like you said, better living through modern chemistry.”

A breeze carrying the scent of lilacs and cut grass came through and riffled his hair. She stopped herself from reaching out and putting it back in place.

“A lot of shit’s gone down.”

She said nothing.

He picked a twig off the deck and pitched it into the water, watching the rings spread out. “Nice out here.”

“I like your cabin better.”

He did look at her. “I have some things to say.”

Her heart raced and she worked to watched him impassively. “Okay.”

“Inside, they’re saying your career in the Corps is over. I’m sorry. I know what that life means to you. It was my fault.”

“What?” She hadn’t expected that. She swung her feet to the floor.

“If I hadn’t been an arrogant asshole you . . .”

A fish jumped and smacked the still surface and they glanced to where the water churned.

“I made the decision to leave. It’s time for me to move on. A lot of things played into it. Things that had nothing to do with you.”

“Moore one of those things?”

“Yes.”

Jack rose, brought a chair over from the table and put it in front of her. “I told you I left the agency because I was sick of the crap and wasn’t interested in fixing the problems. That wasn’t true. I wanted to fix them. I came across an organization who worked to do that. I reached out. They took me on. The contract spy job was a cover.”

She was surprised. Surprised he told her. His contract with
the group
had a nondisclosure clause.

“You don’t seem surprised.”

She wasn’t surprised now. She’d been flabbergasted when Coop told her he’d received a warning searching Jack’s name on the site she’d put him on. Searching company employees was a violation. In essence, Jack worked for her and now she had to find a way to tell him that wouldn’t shatter their fragile trust. Or did he know? Was he feeling her out to determine if she’d known all along?