Grissom (In the Company of Snipers #26)

Chapter Four

“That’s the thing, Mr. Finnegan,” Tuesday explained. “That woman literally threw her boys at me. I’ve never seen anything like her. She was rude and kept slapping that little guy’s head. And the names she called him were awful. I couldn’t say no, I just couldn’t. Is this man really their father?”

Before Murphy could answer, Grissom lifted his bleary eyes and growled, “Damn straight, lady. I’m their biological father, not some joker with a hard—”

“He’s my Daddy!” Luke bawled, his teary face buried in Grissom’s chest. “And I wanna go home.”

“Shush, little guy. She’s just making sure I’m your dad.” Grissom kissed Luke’s sweaty forehead, then the top of Tanner’s head. He had yet to loosen his grip on them, not the way both clung to him. Both traumatized. Both so damned upset, it was killing Murphy seeing them like this. Thank heavens for family reunions. Watching Grissom’s relief made everything Murphy’d gone through to get him here worth it.

“What’s that woman’s name anyway?” Tuesday asked.

“Pamela McCoy,” Murphy replied. “Sorry to barge in like we did, but those guys standing over there are TEAM Agents Hayes and Garner. Agents Armstrong, Shepherd, and Judge are at the window.”

“Hey, Tuesday,” Shane said. “What are you doing here?”

“Shane!” Tuesday shrieked as she launched herself at him.

He let her hold onto him. Let her break down and cry on his shoulder while he patted her back and murmured, “It’s okay, Tuesday. You’re okay. You’re strong, remember? But damned if you don’t show up in the worst places.”

“I’m not okay,” she whined into his neck.

Thank goodness he kept calming her down because Murphy had his hands full. “We all work for Alex Stewart, ma’am,” Murphy explained. “I’m assuming you’ve been in touch with him?” It was possible. Alex tended to keep track of people who helped his agents in the course of them doing their jobs, and Tuesday had been involved in bringing down the infamous Maeve Astor not long ago.

Turning to Murphy with one arm still hooked around Shane’s neck, Tuesday wiped her teary face and nodded. “Yes, Alex gave me his card the day Heston and I left for New York City.”

“For that interview,” Shane interrupted. “That’s the only uppity TV program Everlee and I’ve ever recorded. You did great, by the way.” His eyebrow spiked. “So what happened between you and Heston? Everlee and I kinda thought you two were… you know.”

Pushing out of his arm, she smoothed a hand over her face. “Not Heston, sorry. We were just friends. Like I am with you and Everlee. I’m… I’m still living the dream.” Didn’t sound like that dream was working out for her anymore. “Still working with Robert, and right now, we should be filming the effects of global warming in Antarctica. I was supposed to meet him here, but our plans changed. He was filming the flooding in Peninsula de Osa instead. He might still be there, I don’t know. I’ve been kind of busy.”

Murphy didn’t miss the tender glow that lit her pretty face when her eyes zeroed back to Grissom and his boys, all three still on the floor. At last, they were together again, and Murphy knew Grissom was finally on his way to a complete recovery. He looked at peace, as if his devils had been vanquished. Everyone knew how badly his wife had treated him since day one. Murphy’d met the woman, and the only word that described Pamela McCoy was witch . He didn’t like to speak or think ill of the dead, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d roofied Grissom the one night they’d been together. Murphy knew her type. Barflies and tag chasers only wanted the military benefits that came with marrying a soldier.

“What’s your name?” Tuesday asked Grissom. “I mean, besides Daddy” —she winked at Luke— “which is actually enough proof for me. But I can’t very well call you that, can I?”

“Grissom McCoy, ma’am,” he answered gruffly, both arms still around his boys like unbreakable steel bands. “Tanner’s six. Luke’s—”

“I free” —Luke held up three fingers to Tuesday— “and I gonna be this many next time.” He upped another digit, making him four on his next birthday. Sweet little guy.

Tuesday walked over to where Grissom had landed and knelt alongside him, in the middle of the open doorway. “I’m so sorry, Mr. McCoy. I knew they were tired, but we’d just gotten back from the beach, and I was going to take them to the market to get something to eat after they showered. Why didn’t you ever answer your phone? I’ve been calling the number your wife gave me, but it goes straight to voicemail every time.”

That answered one of Murphy’s many questions. He didn’t doubt Tuesday Smart for a minute. Not knowing how she and Heston Contreras had taken out Maeve Astor, one of the deadliest black widow killers Murphy had ever encountered. Tuesday and Heston had saved Everlee’s life that night.

At last, Grissom relaxed enough to blow out a sigh. “Sorry, ma’am. My fault. All this is my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” Tuesday said kindly. “It’s that jerk’s fault, the guy your wife’s with. Who is that creep? I’d never let him near my children, if I ever have any.”

Murphy cut in before Grissom could go ape-shit telling Tuesday just who the hell Estes was—err, had been. “Grissom’s been in the hospital, ma’am. Dumbass got into a fight with a delivery truck, and the truck won. Probably when he lost his phone.”

Tiny Luke pulled back far enough to put both hands on his father’s bearded cheeks. “Did you get hurt, Daddy? Where’s your owie? Let me see it so I kin kiss it better.”

Grissom leaned forward enough to bump his forehead to Luke’s. Murphy watched the muscles in his throat work as he struggled to tell his boy, “I’m okay, Short Stack. Fact is…” He choked. “I’ve never been better. What say we get out of here and go home?”

Tanner and Luke both declared, “Yeah!” at the same time.

But Murphy caught the narrowed brow Grissom flashed his way. Before Murphy could explain that yes, he had a plan, and that plan included them flying back to the States via commercial air, Tuesday cut in with, “Robert’s private plane is still in San Jose, guys. Let me call it for you. It can land at the Puntarenas airstrip, no problem, and it’ll get all you men home quicker and in more comfort. Okay?”

“Us too?” Tanner asked timidly. “Can we go home with Dad? Please, Miss Tuesday?”

Murphy looked away. Damn it, Tanner was hurting as much as his dad. All three of them had been through hell, and yes, Grissom was just another big kid in Murphy’s opinion. He’d been taking care of young men like him since the guldarned Vietnam War.

“Yes, buddy,” Tuesday replied patiently, her hand gently squeezing Tanner’s shoulder. “You and Luke are the most important men in this room, right, Dad?” she asked pointedly.

“Yes, ma’am,” Grissom replied gruffly, his eyes glistening after that heartbreaking plea from his oldest.

“And because you’ve been so much fun in the short time you’ve been with me, I’ll ask the pilot to let you sit up front with him for a couple minutes during the flight home. Would you little tigers like that?”

Tanner simply nodded. He hadn’t smiled yet, neither had he loosened the stranglehold he had on Grissom’s neck. It was Luke who asked excitedly, “What’s a pilot?”

Before she could explain, Grissom finally looked up and into Tuesday’s glistening green eyes. “I… I think they like you.”

Poor woman looked close to breaking down. “I kinda like them, too,” she replied softly. “They’ve been perfect gentlemen. You should be proud of them.”

“I am. Yes, ma’am, I sure am. Would you mind if we cleaned up in your bathroom before we head out?”

“Sure. Let me help.” Tuesday shot to her feet, both hands extended to his boys. Like she’d probably done frequently over these last few days. But this time was different. Neither boy reciprocated. They both just sat there looking up at her, like they weren’t ever letting go of their father again. Her hands dropped. Her chest heaved. She’d just realized her time with Tanner and Luke was over. She was a babysitter, not their mother, not even a blood relative who could drop in to visit them someday.

“Umm, never mind. Sure. I’ll get their clothes and—” Pivoting on her heel, Tuesday stepped out of sight behind the closet’s louvered door. It was heartbreaking to watch her shoulders quake even as her spine straightened. Poor kid. She was like so many disappointed soldiers. When things were tough, they still had a job to do, and Tuesday’s job had nothing to do with mothering. She wasn’t a soldier who’d eventually go back home to her family and forget the ugliness of the world. She didn’t have a family.

Tuesday Smart wasn’t going into any battle zones, either, not working with naturalist photographer Robert Freiburg. She was documenting climate change. If anything, her profession was showing people the magnificent beauty of the world. She was a teacher, helping others understand how to save their planet. Not that a rewarding career could ever replace the love of a brave man or a family, but what she did was still important.

Yet Murphy doubted her adventurous life could replace motherhood, which was precisely what he was looking at. One of the loneliest things he’d ever seen, a mother with no children. Tuesday needed a man in her life, one who could help her realize her dream of becoming more. Was that man Grissom? Hardly. Grissom had a shit ton of issues to work through before he’d be ready for a relationship.

Good, healthy relationships weren’t the norm in American culture anymore anyway, and Murphy wasn’t sure they ever were. Look at him. He was pushing seventy and on his second marriage. Alex was on his fourth, although four seemed to be the magic number for him. Numbers two and three had simply been a desperate man’s attempts to recreate the family he’d tragically lost. No way they could’ve lasted, and Murphy didn’t blame Alex for trying. Every failed relationship had led him to Kelsey, and their marriage was something to be jealous of. One had only to glimpse those two kids together to believe in true love.

Murphy took a step in Tuesday’s direction, to at least give her a fatherly hug, then thought twice and left her alone. There was nothing he could say to make the upcoming goodbyes easy. Grissom had his boys back. The mission was over. It was time to get the troops home where they belonged.

He turned to Shane and Beckam, Taylor, Walker, and Cord. Lastly, to Grissom, still on the floor, completely absorbed in his boys and totally oblivious to the woman breaking down behind that darned door. She had yet to duck away from the closet. Damn it, Grissom needed to at least acknowledge how tough this was going to be for her. But it was Shane who stepped to Tuesday’s side and put an arm around her shoulders. When she leaned into him, Murphy told Grissom, “Get moving. We’ve got a plane to catch.”

He lifted to his feet, both boys still in his arms. Luke giggled at the shift in position, but Tanner was holding onto his dad so tight that his fingertips were white. His eyes were squeezed shut and his face was wet with tears. He was embarrassed about his pants, poor damned kid. And Murphy no longer thought Grissom should be mindful of Tuesday. He was putting his boys first like a good father should. Tuesday’d have to walk her own path, and sadly, it didn’t include the McCoys.

Murphy cleared his throat, “If you’ll arrange our flight home, ma’am, I’d be much obliged.”

She stepped away from Shane with a soft, “Tell Everlee I said hi, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Stop by next time you’re in Virginia.”

She walked away from him to the nightstand, where she unplugged a cell phone from a charger and made the call. Looked like everyone was going home happy. Everyone except Tuesday.