Fallen SEAL Legacy (15 page)

Gasping for air, she put her palm to her mouth to stop her choked scream from alarming the neighborhood. She heard Libby’s bedroom window slide open from the second story behind her.

Libby scrambled off the bed, letting her paperback fall to the floor, and threw open her bedroom window. It had sounded like her mother had been attacked. But then she saw her mom hunched over in her bathrobe, hands on her knees, like she had just thrown up. Her mom let out a low, gravelly groan.

Dashing out of her room and taking the stairs two and three at a time, Libby raced to the front of the house and down the brick pathway that bisected the flower gardens. She grabbed her mother in her arms, pulling the older woman back into the house. Then she locked the substantial front door safely behind them.

Carla proceeded to the kitchen, dragging Libby along with her. She looked so determined Libby knew there wasn’t any way she could shake her mother’s focus. In a raspy and strained voice, her mom leaned over the countertop, and pointed to the faucet, mumbling, “water.”

Libby produced a glass from over the prep counter, filling it with cool water from the refrigerator dispenser. After several gulps, Carla stood up and took in a sudden gasp of air, then sighed.

“You okay? Mom, what happened?” Libby’s voice sounded small and wavering, like when she was a child.

“I am now.” Libby watched her mom raise the water to her lips. Her hands were shaking so hard Libby thought perhaps she’d drop and shatter the glass.

“Here,” Libby said, her arm around her mother, leading her over to a kitchen stool. “Sit down and just catch your breath a bit.” She gave her mom a hug, and swallowed hard. “Tell me what happened out there.”

“No,” Carla waived her off. “We’ve got to call your father first. He needs to get the police over here.” Carla’s voice was almost a whisper.

“Why?” Libby asked.

“The cat...it has something to do with the cat.”

Panic spread through Libby’s chest. Her eyes filled with tears. “What? Did you see the man…?”

“No. I didn’t see anyone. Call your father. Get the police.”

“If you promise to stay put, I’ll go call him. But
tell
me first.”

“Blood. Covered….in…blood…blood…everywhere…”

Libby was haunted by images of Noodles and the violence that was done to him.

That was just two days ago!

“Mom, the door’s locked. We’re safe in here, okay? Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Carla was staring off through the kitchen windows vacantly.

Libby went to her father’s study so her mom wouldn’t hear the scolding she was going to give him.

Isolated incident.

I’m the target, not you.

Just some nut who didn’t like cats.

She was frustrated to get her dad’s answering service.

“This is his daughter. It’s urgent. This is an
emergency
.”

“Is anyone hurt?” the nasally voice of the dispatcher asked. “If it’s an emergency, you should call 911.”

“I KNOW WHAT THE HELL TO DO! FIND HIM! Send. Him. Home. Immediately.”

When Libby returned to the kitchen to pick up the police detective’s card, her mother wasn’t there. Panic seized her as she searched the large great room, then out to the dining room.

“Mom?” Her voice echoed, and tumbled onto the marble foyer.

Then she heard traffic. The front door was open! Libby dashed to the porch and watched her mother with steely determination walking back out to the mailbox. A truck was driving by the front of the house, slowly. Birds stopped chirping. Libby felt like she was in a time warp, or vacuum. Her lungs sought air as she tried to catch up to her mother. Her running felt like in slow motion.

“Don’t touch a thing, mom. Please. Stop!” Libby shouted, but Carla didn’t flinch or slow her speed. She pulled down the flap of the mailbox again. It made a metallic high-pitched groan. Blood pudding dripped.

Libby stopped her mother’s arm from plunging deep inside the metal container. Dark burgundy ooze was dripping onto the petunias below.

“We need to get back in the house. Let the police deal with this, Mom.”

But her mom wasn’t having any of it. She retracted her arm, holding a fist full of bloody mail. She clutched several envelopes to her chest, getting the red sludge on her beautiful silk robe. With straightened spine, her mother turned and headed back toward the front door. On any other day, she’d have stopped to admire and touch her flowers. Today, her grim expression made her look older. Rigid and cold.

She’s scared out of her gourd.

Inside the house, her mother deposited the bloody envelopes onto the kitchen island and walked up the stairs to her bedroom, completely ignoring her daughter, who stood at the bottom of the stairs watching.

Libby was stunned. She eyed the envelopes covered in crimson goo. One of them did not have a stamp on it. That was the one she wanted to open first.

Getting a set of rubber gloves from under the sink and a sharp knife, she opened the top of the envelope, carefully took out the letter inside, and spread it on the marble countertop.

The letters had been cut from magazines and pasted in a sick collage on pink stationery she recognized, revealing the single message which sent a shiver through Libby’s body:

A-N   E-Y-E   F-O-R   A-N   E-Y-E.

The pink stationery was from Libby’s own desk drawer. It had been a gift from her father.

This sicko has been in my bedroom!

Austen Brownlee arrived the same time Detective Clark Riverton did. Libby directed her dad upstairs. Riverton eyed her, nervously hitched his pants up by the waist and sighed.

“You got any ideas who could have done this? See anyone?” he asked.

Libby shook her head. No.

Riverton poked the letter with the end of his pen. “You use these to open it?” He pointed to her crumpled pile of rubber gloves.

Libby nodded. Yes.

“You see anyone outside last night or this morning?” he asked.

“Nope. But around midnight I thought I heard the mouth of the mailbox open. Thought maybe my Dad put something in there.”

“Your Dad put something in?” Riverton was frowning, alert with concern.

“No. Didn’t see him. Just heard the flap squeak. It was too dark to see who it was.”

“What made you think it was your dad?” Riverton wanted to know.

“Who else would put something in there or take something out late at night?” She looked down at her feet, and took a deep breath.

Riverton studied her for a minute, then asked, “Everything all right at home?”

Libby shot him a glare to show him he’d better watch his line of questioning. Riverton didn’t budge. He stood impassive, continuing to silently observe. He was good at his job.

“My father’s been a basket case lately. Under a great deal of stress. I’m guessing he knows a lot more about all of this than he’s letting on. And I’m guessing you do, too.”

It was Riverton’s time to nod.

“Well, detective? What’s next?” Libby was drilling for a direct answer this time.

“That’s hard to say. But I’m going to be very straight with you. You guys are all in danger. This whole business is escalating. The guy is picking a fight.”

“So you’re telling me someone’s out to get my family?”

“Don’t know. I think the guy is a crazy.”

“We don’t use that word in his house,” Dr. Brownlee said over Libby’s shoulder.

“Fuck’s sake, Austin.” Riverton leaned toward Libby and whispered, “Pardon me, Libby.” He continued to Dr. Brownlee, “When are you going to join the human race, doctor?”

Dr. Brownlee turned to Libby. “Go upstairs and be with your mother. She’s getting dressed.”

“Dad, I’m not moving until you tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Like hell you don’t. Are there more of these letters?” Libby could see from the guilty look in her father’s eyes the answer was yes.

“When were you going to tell us about this? And you had the nerve to send that SEAL away…”

“SEAL?” Riverton suddenly wanted to know.

“This guy came to the house a couple of days ago…”

“Four days ago, Dad,” Libby corrected.

“Four days ago. Saying he wanted to meet the family of Will Brownlee. My brother. Who…” Brownlee couldn’t finish the sentence and briskly walked to the wet bar pantry and poured himself a drink.

Riverton nodded at Libby, getting a note tablet from his chest pocket and began to write. “You think he’s involved, somehow?” he asked while looking down at his notes.

“No.” Libby answered, annoyance rumbling beneath the surface of her words.

“How’s that?” Riverton probed.

“Because she
thinks
she’s in love with him,” her father shouted across the kitchen. “She’s fucking him.”

They were words Libby never thought she’d hear coming from her father. Even in anger, he’d always maintained control. She was seeing another side of him, a shadow cast over the shoulders of the man she’d loved her whole life.

“How dare you! Can’t you hold yourself up without a drink? Can’t you quit the self-absorption and think about the rest of us in this household?” Libby spewed. The venom of her words heightened her anger towards him. She was spinning out of control, ready to launch into another verbal attack.

She also felt her cheeks flush with anger at hearing the words spoken in public
‘she thinks she’s in love with him’
when she hadn’t said the same words to herself.

“Wait, wait a minute, you two,” Riverton interrupted. “Stop all this. I need to ask some questions here.”

Silence. Fire was in the air, but it was mute.

Riverton began again, cautiously. “Who is this SEAL? I need you both to settle down and give me his name.”

“Cooper,” Libby said, glaring at her dad, who was twirling his drink over several ice cubes, frowning, deep in thought. He was avoiding eye contact.

“Cooper what?”

“I don’t remember,” Libby said. “We call him Cooper, Coop for short. He told me, but I’m...too freaked out to remember.” Libby was filled with embarrassment. She’d had sex with this man several times, and didn’t even remember his first name.

What have I done?

Riverton was about to ask another question when Libby’s cell phone went off. She didn’t recognize the number.

Chapter 14

“Coop.” Libby worked not to sound too needy, but her knees were shaking. She bit her lip.

“Libby, I’m sorry about last night. Maybe—”

“Ah, I’m in the middle of—”

“Sure. I can call back later.”

“No.” Was that a plea? She looked to the faces of her father and Detective Riverton, who stopped their conspiratorial whispering to watch her.

“Libby, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“Can you come over? The police are here.”

Riverton put his finger to his lips and her dad frowned.

“What’s happened?” Cooper asked.

“Just—I can’t go into it on the phone. Can you get over here?”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Is someone hurt? Did someone hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine. Everyone’s fine.” It was a lie and a gross misstatement, but it hopefully gave Cooper enough of an excuse to come to the house. Besides, the blood in the mailbox didn’t belong to—

Oh my god!

She turned to her dad. “What about Neil and Marsha and the girls? Should we be alerting them, too?” Libby looked between the two men, forgetting Cooper was on the phone.

“I’m coming over right now,” Cooper said and hung up.

Dr. Brownlee winced as he searched the detective’s face. Riverton scowled and answered her curtly, “I’ll contact them later. I don’t want to get anyone else involved unless I have to. We simply don’t know enough and all I’d do is scare them, perhaps unnecessarily. I’ve  barely started to study the letters—”

“Letters? As in plural,
letters
?” Libby interrupted.

The two men gave her a blank stare.

“How many letters?” she shrieked.

Riverton said, “Three.”

Dr. Brownlee said, “Four.”

“Four,” Riverton corrected himself. “One your father threw away. I’ve got three to study, plus this one.”

“You didn’t think it was important to let us know we were getting letters?” Libby insisted. “Letters like this?” Libby thought her dad looked small and older as she pinned him with her angry stare. “This is my stationery, Dad. This came from my bedroom here at the house.”

Her dad gasped.

“Libby, you’re sure?” Riverton wanted to know.

“Absolutely. “

Her mother made her entrance, hair still wet. She stood beside Libby and crossed her arms. Carla leveled her gaze at Libby’s father. She was not smiling.

“I want the truth. All of it, Austin,” she said.

“Ma’am,” Riverton began, “we’re talking about the other letters I have down at the station. We’re studying them.”

“Letters? What letters?” Carla looked at the display on her kitchen countertop, and walked over to it. After reading the note, she looked up to her husband’s face a second time.

“You lied to me,” she said.

Brownlee leaned back against a countertop and stared at the ceiling, appearing to be searching for words. “I had no idea it would come to this, Carla. I brought them into Clark on Sunday when we met. We were starting to investigate…”

“Investigate?” Carla spat. “You kept us in the dark on purpose, Austin.
On purpose
! We’re the bait while you investigate?” She nodded to Detective Riverton. “This your idea?”

“No ma’am. We’re just doing our job. Look, if you don’t mind, before he gets here, I’d like some information on this Navy SEAL fellow your daughter’s been seeing.”

Carla laced her fingers through her wet scalp, swizzling her hair haphazardly. “You don’t really think he had anything to do with this, do you?” she asked the room. Libby couldn’t understand why no one had a quick response.

Dr. Brownlee made the point in his gentle negotiator voice, “All of these letters arrived after the SEAL did, Carla. Detective Riverton
has
to investigate him.”