Shadows of the Past (SEAL Brotherhood: Shadow Team #1)

Chapter Eight

H e went for a run in the early morning hours right after sunrise. He stopped nodding to joggers after about the fortieth time he passed a group. The beach was shiny in the morning sun, the brown sand glistening like tiny pieces of coarse glass, covered and brushed over by the foamy surf.

He was hopeful this morning, almost grateful and looking forward to the day. Sure, he’d be going back to his parents’ chaotic home, but the intense drama amused him more today than it annoyed him last night.

What are you going to do? It is what it is.

He thought about the advice he gave his aunt about trading places with her sister, the comment that made her cry. Where had that come from? Why didn’t his father try to reason with them that way, get their cooperation to get along and reduce the stress and drama for everyone? Dimitri never thought about him being very good at that. And he had experts, meaning two ex-wives, to testify to the fact that he was an unfeeling sonofabitch, which is how he would usually describe his dad.

But today, suddenly all things were possible.

He knew it wouldn’t last. But if he could make it until he could at least see her one more time, he’d give anything in the world for that chance. He wouldn’t even require she go through the gauntlet of answering all his unanswered questions to his satisfaction, something his ex-wives used to determine if he was worth their forgiveness or their time. He could be late, but he better have a good excuse, delivered flawlessly, with just the right amount of care for their feelings. He’d not been very good at that.

Turning the tables, he wouldn’t care even if she told him she was in love with someone else. If she wanted his help, he’d be there. Even if he had to stay arms-length away from her. He could do it. He really could.

And then he’d work his magic, as she called it. The magic that was the two of them together. He’d just focus on the mission, not beg anything from her. Just pay attention to her, anticipate what she needed, and give her all that and anything else she wanted. He’d get away with as much as he could. He wouldn’t be so careful to raise any subjects or ask too many questions. And he’d take the rejection and wouldn’t back away. He wouldn’t insist. He’d wear her down, just by him having that burning flame inside him he’d never speak about. He needed her like the air he breathed. Like he needed to visit the beach, as he was right now. Like he needed the smell and feel of being free, his freedom and the freedom of everyone he cared about.

There was no higher calling. Something he was just wired for, came out of the shoot designed for. He wasn’t birthed. He’d been sent. He honestly believed that.

He observed early morning beachgoers, the scavengers, the pensive ones who found answers in broken shells and smooth rocks they could dig up with their big toes, the fishermen who tired of people peeking into their pails to see what they’d caught, especially if they hadn’t had a score yet.

They were young, old, fat, and slim. Some came to play. Some came to forget. Some came to be inspired. Everyone took from the beach what they needed. It was the only place where, afterwards, it didn’t feel robbed or depleted.

It all was still there. The magic was still there. Like love was still there even though the person you loved was gone forever. He’d taught himself that lesson. He hoped to God he didn’t have to re-learn that one.

He stopped at a seafood diner he knew to make fresh crab omelets and had a huge breakfast with fresh biscuits with apricot jam, his favorite.

Even the lug of food in his gut didn’t tamp down his mood. His lungs were fresh, despite the hour at the greasy spoon with its poor ventilation system. He probably breathed in more oils than he ate. His lungs still felt clear because that lovely engine, the heart of his soul, was humming a little tune, fluffing itself up for another magical encounter with her, even if it was by phone. He checked his watch. That would be about nine hours from now.

He washed his Hummer, vacuumed the floormats, and wiped down the windows. He saw people looking at him. His long trunks with the American flag designs and flip-flops, but he was without the sweaty tee shirt he’d started his run with. Ladies were everywhere, and they too were old and young. Some washed their cars in those incredibly skimpy bathing suits, whether or not they had the figure for it. In Florida, everyone let everything hang out.

One of the things he liked about Florida was that it was “uncool” unless you spent time around Palm Beach or Miami and the ritzy places in between. Not like the beaches and communities of Southern California where it was how perfect you could look, who you knew, and were you with a movie star or social influencer. Could you spike, show your dazzling pearly whites, and laugh easily? And you had to know how to flirt.

Not that he was thinking about it, but if he wanted to flirt, he’d be mostly doing it with women even older than he was. And that made him laugh.

So why the heck would he?

He had loved the very best, most perfect woman in the world. And she was alive. And she was waiting for him to call him back at ten o’clock tonight.

And she’d called him “my love.” But he’d get her to say more, if he was lucky.

His phone rang on the drive back to his parents’ house. Jordan.

“You talk to her?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“We’ll talk again tonight.”

“Did you use your dad’s phone?”

“I did. I erased the activity afterwards. Is there a way I can trace the call tonight when I talk to her again? We’ll only be on the phone for thirty seconds.”

“Don’t think so. Let me do some checking. I have a friend who does gadgets. Dimitri, I need to inform you about something.”

“What?”

“Last night, my apartment was tossed, I mean really ransacked. I’ve been moving about the city, moving every three to four hours, trying to find out if I got a tail. I’m going to ditch this phone and get some burners. I think someone is on to us.”

“Who?”

“Possibly the same people who did your place. In light of what you told me about your maintenance man, I’m a little freaked.”

“Yeah. You should be. You have some place to stay?”

“Working on it. Anyway, I’ll call you next on a burner, and I’m going to keep switching them every day.”

“I’d offer my place, but don’t think it’s a good idea. Keep me updated.”

“Okay, I’ll call you after your call. Are you going there?”

“Where, Capri?”

“Of course.”

“Nothing could keep me away. Even if it’s a bad idea.”

“That’s what I thought. Later.”

He hung up.

To be cautious, Dimitri picked up four burner phones all with California numbers. He also purchased six SIM cards for switching out.

The household was in better shape today. The sisters went shopping with his dad’s money.

“I told them to bring home some beer and whiskey. Can’t promise anything good, but they’ll probably pick the beer for the pretty label and the whiskey based on the fancy bottle. That’s as far as their tastes go. Sorry.”

“No worries, Dad. How’s Mom doing today?”

“She had a good night. I think you being here was good for her.”

“Nice to hear. Should I go up?”

“She’d like that. I’m reading the paper. Let me know if she needs anything. Oh, and we have a home health care aide stopping by this afternoon. I guess with the drugs she’s on they have to monitor from time to time, making sure there isn’t a wild and crazy family getting high on her meds. I don’t know.”

He couldn’t even laugh at that one, as sad as it was.

His mother was staring out the window, unmoving, her gaze distant, and for a second, he thought she might have expired.

“Mom?”

She became present and beamed at his presence.

“Come, sit. Hold your mama’s hand for a minute.”

He did as he was told.

“Tell me honestly, how is your father doing? Are my sisters giving him a hard time about his dementia?”

“I haven’t seen that. But yes, they’re giving him a hard time. He doesn’t put his foot down like he should.”

“They can be a little over the top.”

“That’s putting it mildly. You know how power is. When it leaves, there’s a vacuum and other things move in. When he doesn’t take charge, they do, and they get territorial about it. But it’s out of love for you, and for him too. But I think they genuinely have compassion for him and his illness. I’ve not heard them bring it up once, and we’ve seen a couple incidents since I arrived, too. So I know they see it.”

“That relieves me greatly. Thanks for your honesty.”

“Mom, what did the doctor say? Is this new drug helping or hurting you?”

“I think it’s helping a bit. Supposed to give me a boost in my blood cell counts and size. It’s hard on the kidneys. I guess that’s the big issue right now. If they shut down, well, that’s about it. Unfortunately, when that starts to happen, it happens quickly. We won’t get much warning. And I’m not getting daily blood tests, so who knows? But we get them once a week.”

He approached his concern slowly. “Have you made your plans, then? Do you need any help with that?”

“Maybe we could do that while they’re away.”

He stood up. “Let me get my notebook, and we’ll write some things down.” He left to get his lined tablet. When he came back, she was ready.

“First, I want to be cremated. My sisters will fight you on that. Plant a tree in the backyard or, better yet, put my ashes on the bananas. You don’t have to tell them. I’ll derive delicious pleasure knowing my sisters will actually be eating my words!”

He would have laughed if it had been a Team Guy, but this gallows humor wasn’t funny to him when it was his parents.

“Mom, so you believe in banana reincarnation, then? That what you’re telling me? Now who has the dementia?”

She laughed, which morphed into a coughing spell, and she spit up blood on the tissue she held to her liver-colored, thin lips.

It wasn’t a good sign. He was hoping for some form of death for her that didn’t involve drowning in her own fluids.

What are you doing? It is what it is. You’re supposed to be happy today.

“Okay, no burial. Cremation. We’ll keep the planting location a secret for family harmony.”

“No urn. Constantino will want one. I say no way!”

“I agree. Sort of morbid, right?”

“Totally gross. A nice service down at the beach. If you want to spread me out to sea, you have to be careful not to be near any beach patrol or cleanup crew.”

“So it’s not legal. I thought it was.”

“Nope. I had a dear friend who tried to send her dog to the ocean, and she got a fine.”

“I’m liking a midnight snack for the bananas more and more.”

“It will be our secret. So a nice remembrance. Everyone standing together in a circle, holding hands.”

“Like a wedding. I’ve seen weddings do that at the beach.”

“Yes, a marriage of life and death, the end of an era. The struggle gone. Only the foreverness of Heaven. Maybe I’ll see Moira there.”

He stopped writing. “Moira?”

“Yes. She’s gone ahead. I think she’ll be there to greet me.”

He wondered why she was bringing it up, but he let it go.

“You look as you don’t believe me.”

He wondered if he should tell her. What would it hurt to give her a little hope too. He glanced out the window at the greenery outside. Then he asked her.

“Are you able to keep a secret, Mom?”

“Who am I going to tell?”

“Oh, your nurses, your sisters, Dad, friends—”

“My friends don’t stop by anymore. Your dad has scared them all off.”

“Well, right there we’ve got six, no, seven people you could tell. I mean keeping a secret that would be just between you and me, something you’d keep in your heart until you get to Heaven. Can you do that?”

“Is it that important?”

“Could affect the rest of my life.”

Her eyes filled with alarm. “Oh dear! Are you in some kind of trouble, Dimitri?”

He felt his insides smile, his heart expand. His soul warm. He had enough love for the world he could even love the fact that his mother would be gone soon, much sooner than anyone else thought. Any day now.

“I’m in love, mother.”

“That’s wonderful, Dimitri. Who is she?”

“The same woman I’ve been in love with for eighteen years, Mother. Moira. She’s alive. And she’s asked for me to come rescue her. And I’m going to do it.”