Breaking Away (14 page)

He dropped his duffle and backpack onto the raft. “Leave the key on the sky bridge.” He described where the hide-a-key was kept.

“I’ll call after I get the bike and bug out,
Mom,
” Javier razzed him.

Flash feinted a punch and Javier danced away with a smirk. They grasped hands and bumped shoulders again.

Aware of the important cargo he had in the craft, Flash went over the side of the boat and eased into the raft. By the time he made it to the J. G., Javier had taken in the anchor and started the engines of cabin cruiser. A fresh wave of anxiety hit Flash. There was no way he could protect his foster brother. He just had to believe he’d be okay.

He tossed his baggage to Travis and climbed up on the metal platform at the back of the fishing vessel. He watched Trident pull away and turned to step up on deck.

“You look like shit, son,” Travis said, a fierce frown creasing his face.

Flash laughed. He could always count on Travis to cut straight through the bullshit. The bruising had darkened and the whole side of his head had turned purple down to his jaw.

“Nita is going to throw a fit.” Travis enveloped him in a bear hug and pounded his back.

Just being with someone he knew cared eased the tightness in the pit of Flash’s stomach. “I have video of the asshole setting me up again,” he said as the embrace ended.

“Good. We’ll figure out a way to get it to the right people. I’ve already reached out to a couple of buddies who might be able to help.”

His eyes blurred. Flash ducked his head to cover his response. “Thanks, Trav.” He manhandled the raft back on deck. By the time he’d done that and taken his backpack and duffle below decks, Travis had secured the raft and pointed the nose of the vessel inland.

Flash joined him on the sky bridge. He dragged in the salt-scented air and tried to relax the tension in his shoulders.

“I’ll drop you in one of the inlets, and you can climb up to the coastal road and avoid the police. After I dock the boat at the marina, I’ll pick you up.”

“I can get to the house under my own steam.”

“Not looking like that,” Travis said, with a scowl. “Everyone who sees you will remember the guy whose head looks like an eggplant. You could have died from the concussion.”

“I thought about that and decided to give it a pass.”

Travis shook his head and grinned. “Sometimes I think you’re more like me than any of my kids.”

“Not so. Javier may look like ‘Nita but he’s definitely got a streak of you in him. He wouldn’t have volunteered to run the boat back into San Diego for me if he didn’t.” He kept what Javier had said about slipping around the old man to himself. Brothers watched each other’s backs. “Javier would enlist in a heartbeat if ‘Nita wouldn’t bitch about it.”

“Over the years she’s put up with enough with me being deployed and now you.”

Flash could understand that. The life was hard on families. He’d signed up because Travis had shown him a way of life that fed his wild streak and still kept him on the right side of legal. Until Travis and Juanita had come into his life, he’d been on his way to possibly doing something stupid enough to get sent to jail. He’d been damn lucky to avoid it. Ten years later he was using his tech skills and his sniper skills to protect his country. And he got to blow shit up, too.

Flash studied the coastline, with its rugged patches of volcanic rock and clear blue water. Travis pointed toward a gray whale on the starboard side. The huge animal surfaced, sending spray in the air, then dove, its shape a dark shadow moving out to sea.

“This isn’t a bad place to be until you get things squared away,” Travis said.

It just wasn’t where he needed to be. He had to get back to his team.

Travis nodded as though he read the thought. Twenty minutes later he guided the J.G. into a cove close to one of the public beaches. “If you head up past that outcropping of rock, you can follow the property line to the hotel. Walk up to the road and I’ll be by to pick you up in about twenty minutes. ‘Nita is waiting for me to bring you home.”

Flash reached behind him to remove the gun he had tucked into his waistband and handed it to Travis. “There’s a hundred thousand reasons why you shouldn’t get stopped at the marina,” Flash said. “I couldn’t leave the money on Bowie’s boat, and I couldn’t waltz into my bank at home and open an account or rent a safety deposit box. If it looks like things are going to go sideways, dump the duffle over the side.”

He climbed down the ladder, swung around to toe himself along the narrow ledge to the bow of the boat. Travis nosed closer to shore. Flash tugged his ball cap from his back pocket and pulled it on. He flipped his sunglasses out of his shirt pocket and eased them on. He waved to Travis, signaling close enough, and leaped into the warm Pacific water.

He trudged through the surf to the large outcropping of rock that Travis had mentioned. He glanced over his shoulder to see Travis backing the boat into deep water and swinging it to port.

The sand clung to his shoes in a crust that weighted them. He waited until he’d reached the sparse grass that met the beach and beat each heel against a rock to knock it off. He was reminded of being soaking wet and rolling in the sand until he was covered like a sugar cookie during BUD/S. It had scraped the skin off in uncomfortable places and gotten in his eyes, but he had survived. He’d worked his ass off to make it through BUD/S and then through sniper training.

He was going to get back to his team, no matter what he had to do to make it happen. He’d just have to find a way to contact NCIS without getting thrown in the brig and turned over to the FBI.

He worked his way around a clump of palms and climbed the hill to the hotel Travis had mentioned. The Spanish-style building was typical of the area, as were the terracotta shingles. Wide, arched doors and windows were set symmetrically across the front of the two-story building and the flowerbeds were sculpted in an artistic plan of color and texture with layered areas of dahlias, ornamental grasses, regional cactus, and agave.

The scent of ocean tinged air, and the perfume of the blossoms blended with the mouth-watering aroma of grilled fish from somewhere in the hotel. His stomach growled, and he had an instant craving for ‘Nita’s enchiladas and chili verde.

He kept to the shadowed areas of the grounds and strolled past the parking lot toward the road. He settled behind one of the palms, his back to the road.

His pants legs were almost dry by the time he spotted Travis’s truck. He hustled to his feet and jogged to the edge of the road, cut in front of the vehicle as soon as it pulled to a stop and got in.

“I can almost smell ‘Nita’s enchiladas,” he said.

“You look as though you could use a week or two of them. The first thing you need to do is get back to fighting form.”

He had lost weight just in the last few days. This thing was eating him up inside. “I will.”

Twenty minutes later they pulled up in front of a hacienda-style, three-story home. The garage doors were open, and parked inside was a white and blue police car with the Baja city logo on the side. And walking toward them was one of their officers, dressed in a black t-shirt with Baja Police printed on one side of his chest.

Flash’s heartbeat shot up to the speed of a cruise missile.

“There’s something I meant to tell you, Flash.”

His insides twisted as Travis’s betrayal became evident.

“What have you done, Trav?”

CHAPTER 11

Las Vegas

E
llen set the newspaper on the bed beside Sam. “Your father-in-law has been dragged into the investigation. He’s coming off as an arrogant ass.”

“That’s no surprise, since he is one.” Sam picked up the newspaper and scanned the headline.
Las Vegas Judge Investigated for Obstruction.

Sam tilted her head back against the pillow, and rested her hand on the paper. Weakness infused every bone and muscle of her body. Her neck felt like it had been wrenched. Muscles screamed at every small move. She thought after the first two days the worst of the bruising would have shown itself, but it continued to darken and creep along her body, forming a map of abuse. Every punch and kick was evident. At least the vision in her left eye had finally cleared.

She’d crept into the bathroom earlier, and, using her phone, had taken a picture of every bruise and mark, just as Tammi Mai had. If the police photos disappeared, she’d have a record of her own. From now on, she also would record every telephone conversation and interaction she had with the Cross family. She was through being their victim.

Just thinking those words sent a shiver of fear and uncertainty through her. She had crumbled before the pressure her in-laws put on her in the past, her fear of losing Joy their biggest weapon. But now that Henry Moreland was no longer in a position to help them, she might have a chance.

“It’s almost time to go,” Ellen said and touched Sam’s hand.

Sam studied her grandmother’s features. She seemed a little pale this morning, and stress had marched across her face, leaving deep furrows around her mouth. And she had lost weight since Sam had last seen her. “Are you okay, Gran?”

“I’m fine, honey.”

Something in her smile didn’t quite convince Sam. But entertaining a four-year-old was exhausting if you weren’t used to it. And Gran was sixty-four, though she still looked much younger.

Sam’s attention strayed to Joy as she sat on the foot of the bed watching cartoons. Her white-blonde hair hung in soft curls down each side of her face. Her blue eyes were focused on the television, a slight smile curving her lips. She was such a sweet-natured child. She’d stay that way, too, as long as she wasn’t influenced by Will and his parents.

Sam had practically slept through the day yesterday. But today was a new beginning, and no matter how bad her pain, it was time to pull things together.

She rolled onto her side and slid her legs off the edge of the bed, then pushed herself up into a sitting position. Though her ribs hurt every time she breathed, she gasped in a breath, and forced herself to her feet. Once vertical, she felt every ache, but focused on straightening her cotton blouse and slacks.

“I’ll go brush my hair.”

Ellen nodded, then sat down next to Joy.

“Fweddie and Sawah are watching Dora,” Joy said her voice high-pitched and appealing. She stuck her index fingers up in the air to show Ellen the two little people stuck on the end of them.

“Is Dora their favorite?” Ellen asked.

“Ah-huh.”

“Is she your favorite?” she asked.

“Ah-huh.”

Sam listened to them debate whether Dora’s hair would look better blonde like Joy’s and smiled. There was no stress in her child’s voice. She didn’t babble like a baby. She was talking in complete sentences and actually laughing. A tightness, one she hadn’t even realized she was experiencing, eased.

Even though she had to place every step with care, Sam smiled when she came out of the bathroom. “What are you two going to do while I’m talking to the lawyer?”

“There’s a pizza place nearby with games and things. I thought I’d take Joy and let her play.”

“She’s never been. She’ll love it. Won’t you, baby?”

“What kind of games?” Joy asked, the question tentative, and her features edged with anxiety.

Sam knelt in front of her. “It’s just a place for you to eat pizza and there are video games, but there are other games just for children your age, too. Grandma El will be with you and teach you how to play. As soon as I’m done at the lawyer’s office, I’ll call and you can come get me. Okay?”

Joy studied her face with anxious eyes. “’Kay.”

Sam leaned close to hold her as tears threatened for them both. “Momma and Grandma El will never ever let anything hurt you, Joy. If you don’t like it there, she’ll take you to McDonald’s.”

“’Kay.”

“Let’s get your shoes on.”

“I do it, Momma.” She slid down off the bed and trotted away to get her tennis shoes.

Sam struggled to her feet.

Ellen gave her arm a squeeze. “She’s just like you were at that age. Independent. Despite everything that’s happened, she’s a strong little girl, Sam. She’s going to be just fine.”