TYLER (Blake Security Book 2) (8 page)

TYLER

              I drove into Lafayette just after one in the morning on Friday. I planned on heading straight for the house, but as I passed Crimson Lights that tug I felt toward Ariana kicked in once again. Although I’d been up for almost twenty-four hours, I knew my brain was going to have a hard time shutting off and going to sleep. Instead of going “home,” I pulled into a bar called Lafayette Nights Bar and Grill. It was a place I’d been too young for when I lived in town, so I’d never been there, but it was always one of the old man’s favorite spots.

It was late, and getting close to last call, so there weren’t more than a handful of people there. A woman sat at one end of the counter alone, and two men sat talking at the other end. One of the tables held a young couple, and way in the back the hulking figure of a really big man sat crouched over the table. I went up to the bar and ordered a beer. The bartender handed it to me, and I lay a ten-dollar bill on the table and carried it over to the jukebox. I wasn’t sure if I wanted music or not, but the bar had an eerie quality to it, and I thought some pleasant noise might help. I was digging in my wallet for a dollar bill when I heard a deep voice say, “If you turn that noise box on, I’ll snap you in two like a twig.”

I almost laughed. Even as big as the shadow of the man in the corner looked, I highly doubted he could snap me like anything. I turned to face him, and when he looked up, it was as if the memories of Afghanistan were assaulting me all at once in 3-D.

“Staff Sergeant Donovan?”

He squinted one eye in my direction. His hair was disheveled, and he had a five o’clock shadow. His one open eye was shot through with red so badly that there was no white showing. “Who are you?”

I took a step toward the table, and he was instantly on his feet. He was obviously drunk, but a Special Ops officer never lost those moves, or the paranoia that went along with it. I stopped moving and held up my palms. “I’m Staff Sergeant Tyler Petit,” I said.

He squinted harder and then he said, “Petty?”

“That’s me—and you were Donny without a Marie.”

He chuckled. “Stupid ass name,” he said. “What the hell are you doing in Lafayette in a dump like this?”

Without an invitation, I slid into the other side of the booth and said, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I’m a Cajun,” he said. “Born and bred. We like dumps.”

“Acadian,” I said with a grin. “Grew up in Lafayette. We made the dumps”

“Shit, I guess we never talked much. I didn’t know that. I grew up in Houmas.”

“Swamp rat, huh?”

He squinted his eyes at me again and said, “Watch it, Acadian.”

I laughed. Staff Sergeant Donovan was a legend in Special Ops. His last tour ended badly through no fault of his own—and no one was sure what happened to him after that. From the looks of the seven Corona bottles in front of him, I’d say he was still dealing with some shit. “So you live in Lafayette?”

He shook his head and took a long drink of beer before saying, “Nawlins.”

I nodded. “You just like the atmosphere in our pretty little parish?”

He laughed. “Hell no. I’m on a case…kind of.”

“A case?”

“I’m a bodyguard and private detective.” I hoped that he wasn’t guarding any bodies in the condition he was in tonight. He took care of that worry by telling me, “I came out to meet with a client—and once she left I stayed for a few beers.”

I took a drink of my beer, and when I sat it down, I said, “And how do you plan on getting back to Nawlins tonight?”

He lifted his shoulders and shrugged. I took a chance on losing my hand by putting it out in his direction and saying, “Keys.” He looked at me like he might be considering taking me down to the floor, but he must have had at least an idea of how drunk he was because he fumbled in his pocket and finally produced a set of Hummer keys. “Hummer, nice.”

“Yep.” He finished his beer and said, “You driving me to Nawlins?”

“Nope, but I know of a place you can stay for the night, free of charge.”

“I don’t sleep much.”

“Neither do I.”

“Sometimes when I do sleep, I wake up making a hell of a lot of noise.”

“Me too.”

He chuckled and said, “Well aren’t we a hell of a mess?”

I held up my beer and said, “That, I cannot deny.”

********

When we pulled up in front of the house, Donovan was snoring in the passenger seat of the Challenger. I just sat there for a long time with the car idling. I actually considered just driving on. I could never make peace with my dad now. Maybe this wasn’t even about him. Maybe this was me, lonely and hoping for one last glimpse of my soul mate.

I looked across the manicured lawn that my dad took meticulous care of before Mom got sick. He wouldn’t even let me help him. He was always so worried about what the neighbors would think if there was a blade of grass out of place. My eyes moved up to the big colonial porch with the white pillars at the top of the cement steps. The swing hanging between them was what caught my attention. I pictured Mom on that swing. She had loved it. When she got really sick, I hung one in back for her, too—to make it easier for her to get to from her room. I sighed; I knew I had to do this. Once the funeral was over and the estate settled, I could finally move on…I hoped.

“We sleeping in this tin can?” I looked over at the drunk, grumpy staff sergeant.

“Nah, I promised you a four-star room and that’s what you’re going to get.” I

backed up and pulled the car into the driveway in front of the garage. My passenger looked up at the house and back at me.

“Had you figured for a liberal preppy type.” I just shook my head at him, turned off the ignition, grabbed my duffel out of the back seat, and stepped out of the car. Donovan was climbing out his side, but before I got there to help him, he slid to the ground and was sitting on his butt on the pavement. He looked up at me and grinned. Shaking my head again, I bent down and helped him up off the pavement and up to the house. I leaned him against the door and picked up the faux rock out of the flowerbed. Turning it over, I slipped the house key out that had been there since I was twelve. Donovan raised an eyebrow at me, but didn’t say anything as I slid the key in the lock. As soon as we were inside and I’d flipped on the light, he looked around and let out a long whistle between his teeth.

“Damn, more than preppy, flat out rich.”

“Do you want to sleep outside tonight?”

He laughed. “I’ve slept in worse places.” I took his arm again and helped him into the living room. I wasn’t about to try and get the giant up the stairs. Once I had him settled on the couch, I went in the kitchen to get him a bottle of water. I hadn’t let the fact that I was back home really settle in yet. Donovan was a nice distraction, I guess. By the time I got back to the living room, he was slumped over on the couch and snoring. Rolling my eyes, I leaned down and pulled off his boots and lifted his heavy legs up onto the couch. I pulled the afghan off the back of it and lay it over him and sat the bottle of water on the table in front of him. I left one of the lamps in the corner on because I had a feeling if he was anything like me, waking up in an unfamiliar place wasn’t going to go over well in the dark.

As soon as my mind was off of babysitting an almost-famous sniper and I headed back toward the stairs, the past assaulted me. The photos of me that Mom lined the entryway with were still there, starting with my birth photo. I always thought I looked like an alien, but Mom always said, “You were the most perfect baby ever born.” I smiled at the memory. From there were my toddler photos, and then one from every year from Kindergarten through high school. I was always the star of my mom’s show. I was shaking before I even got through the foyer and onto the stairs. I flipped on the light and once again was beat over the head with nostalgia. It made me sick to my stomach, and I turned the light back off and headed up to my old room in the dark.

              My blast from the past was complete there. My room hadn’t been touched—except that it was a lot cleaner than I’d ever left it when I lived there. I dropped my canvas bag down on the bed and started stripping. I was exhausted, more mentally than physically. I sat on the edge of the bed, dreading sleep because of the dreams, but knowing I wouldn’t be able to postpone it any longer. I finally lay down and closed my eyes. As soon as I did, my mind drifted back to the night Ariana and I spent together. The dreams that followed were much more pleasant than anything I’d had since I left town. Maybe being home wasn’t going to be so bad after all. 

TYLER

              In spite of not closing my eyes until after two in the morning, I woke up at dawn. I guess I was destined to never sleep past sunrise again for the rest of my life. I dragged my tired butt out of bed and got into the shower. The suit I’d stuffed into my duffel bag was slightly wrinkled but it was going to have to do. I shaved, dressed, and after taking one last look in the mirror and wondering what everyone else would see today when they looked at me, I went downstairs.

When I passed through the living room, I saw that Donovan was gone. I heard movement in the kitchen and found him in there searching the cabinets. He looked at me and said, “Coffee?” I reached up over the sink where my mom kept it since I was a little boy and handed it to him. “Thanks,” he said. He used the spoon in his hand to scoop the grounds into the pot, and then he closed the lid and pushed the button for it to brew. He turned and looked at me then and said, “You look pretty.”

“Thanks,” I rolled my eyes. “I have a funeral to go to, you want a ride to your car?” He looked at the coffee pot longingly. I laughed. “We can wait for it to finish. I can use a cup myself.” He didn’t say anything, but he looked relieved.

When it finished brewing, I took down two travel mugs and filled them each up. After he picked his up he said, “I appreciate all of this by the way. I’m not a drunk, just had a bad night.”

I nodded. “It happens.”

We drove in virtual silence to the bar, but before he got out of the car, he handed me a card that said:
Blake Investigations: Blake Donovan/Ryder Grant
. “If you’re going to be in town for any length of time and want some work, call me.”

I didn’t plan on staying, but I took the card and thanked him. The way my life went, you just never knew. As I was driving out of the parking lot, I noticed a dark blue Mustang parked on the street. The reason I noticed it was because the windows were blacked out, but as I looked closer I saw the glint of sun off of something reflective. From my time in the army I’d say it was either binoculars or a riflescope. I stopped the car and backed up but before I could get out, the Mustang burned rubber taking off down the street. I saw Blake standing next to the black Hummer watching it. He didn’t look concerned or surprised. I made eye contact with him, and he waved me off. The whole thing gave me a bad feeling, but I didn’t have time to talk to him about it, I was already late for the funeral. I made a mental note to give him a call later and see if there was anything he might need help with while I was in town.

When I got to the cemetery, I saw that it looked like most of the town had turned out for Dad’s funeral; the parking lot was packed. Michael said Dad hadn’t wanted a church service. He’d specified that he only wanted graveside services. I found a place to park and walked across the grass. I stopped about six feet back from the mourners. The priest was already wrapping up the services. I didn’t want to attract attention to myself, but I wanted to hear what Father O’Dell was saying. I took a few steps forward and came to a dead stop as my eyes landed on Ariana. God, she was still beautiful. It was as if time had stood still when I looked at her. She was wearing a black sleeveless dress and a pair of black sandals without a heel. She looked so tiny. Her thick hair shone underneath the summer sun, and I closed my eyes just for a fraction of a second and remembered how it used to feel in my hands, and the way it always smelled so fresh. I opened my eyes and looked at her again. It was amazing how seventeen years of absence seemed like only yesterday. My heart filled with the love I used to feel for her. It was so full that it ached.

I saw her arm go around the person next to her then and my eyes moved over. She was standing next to a young man. He was somewhere in his teens, but since I didn’t know anything about kids, I couldn’t have said exactly how old. I wasn’t surprised that she had a child. I was sure she’d been happily married for years. She was made to be a mother—and I hoped that kid knew how lucky he was.

Her father was with her, which was weird since he’d hated my dad for decades. But maybe he was just there to support her. I wasn’t surprised she’d shown up, respect came naturally for her, and even if she’d had nothing to do with my dad since I left, I could see her feeling like it was important to be at his funeral.

As I pondered all of that, I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped, but then I heard a familiar voice. Thank God I hadn’t throat punched him. It was Sam.

“Hey man, I’m so sorry.” Sam wrapped me up in a bear hug.

When we parted I said, “Thanks. It’s so good to see you. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I didn’t know if you would either. When Dad called me for your number, I was deep in a meeting I couldn’t get out of. I texted it to him and prayed you weren’t going to be pissed at me for it.”

“Nah, I needed to be here. I’m glad he called.”

I looked up as the crowd began thinning out. I watched Ariana again, as she lay a rose down near the coffin that held my father’s body. The boy next to her did the same and so did Ariana’s father, Max. Then suddenly, Ariana’s eyes were on me. As we locked eyes and I saw the look of sadness on her face, my heart once again ached. I saw her say something to her dad and his eyes landed on me too before he put his arm around the young man and they headed towards the parking lot. My stomach was in the biggest knot I’d ever felt in my life as Ariana came towards me. I almost felt sick with the anticipation of speaking to her after all of these years. God, she was beautiful. I’d been all over the world now in my travels as a soldier. I could honestly say that she was the most beautiful woman anywhere.

I took a deep breath and a step towards her. Father O’Dell reached me first. “Tyler?”

I looked at the priest. He’d been the one who baptized me and gave me my First Communion…he’d heard all of my confessions, except one. “Father, hello.”

Father O’Dell took my hands and held them between his. “I’m sorry for your loss, Tyler. Your father was a good man.”

I nodded and managed a small smile. “Thank you, Father.” I once again tried to make it to Ariana when Michael Dupree stepped up.

“Tyler, I’m glad you made it. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dupree. Thank you for calling me.”

He nodded and gave me a sad smile. “If you’re up to it, maybe we can get together in my office tomorrow?”

“Yeah, around ten?”

“Perfect, I’ll see you then.”

I said hello to a couple more people at last making my way to Ariana. Once I was close enough to smell her and she smelled the same as she did when we were kids, I suddenly couldn’t breathe. I felt like a fool standing there with a dry mouth and trying to form my words.

“Hi Ariana.”

She gave me a small smile, but it was gorgeous nonetheless. “Hi Tyler.”

“You look great, just the same.” Ariana’s eyes ran over my big body as I said that. I’d already shed my jacket in the car and rolled up my sleeves. I hadn’t worn a suit in years, and before I even made it to the funeral, I couldn’t wait to get it off. I watched her pretty hazel eyes rake across my tattoos on my forearms and move back up to my face. I almost shuddered under the heat in them.

We stared at each other again for several long minutes before she said, “You look great too, but different.”

I laughed nervously. I wondered if she thought “different” was good or bad. “Thanks, I think,” I said. She laughed softly, too. I remembered how I used to love the sound of it. “So it doesn’t look like things around here have changed much.” What the hell was I doing? How many things did I need to say to her? Yet, here I was making awkward small talk instead.

“Yeah, it never really does, on the surface.”

“How are your folks?”

She looked sad again. Damn! I’d said the wrong thing already. “My mother passed away about ten years ago.”

“Oh jeez! I’m sorry.”

She smiled again. I would give every penny I had, and anything that I was likely to earn in the future to see that smile. Jesus, it was beautiful. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” I watched as her eyes moved to the car where her father had taken the boy. I thought about asking her who he was, but that was really none of my business. “I should go.”

I nodded. “It was really good to see you.” I thought I saw the glimmer of a tear in her eye, but she held it back.

“It was good to see you, too.” I watched then as she headed for the car that her father and the kid had gotten into. The kid stepped out and opened the door for her. She slid inside, and he closed it. Maybe he worked for her family, I thought.

“Hey,” Sam was back at my elbow. He’d magically disappeared when Ariana and I were speaking. “I’m going to give you some time with your dad,” Sam said. “Ariana and her father are having the reception at their place. Are you going to go?”

“She lives with her dad? She’s not married?”

His lips twitched, but he suppressed the smile. I was trying to only sound curious, but apparently it wasn’t working. “Yeah, she still lives with the old man. That place is huge though, so it makes sense.”

“Yeah, and they’re doing a reception at their house?” That didn’t make sense.

He nodded. “Yeah, you want to ride over with me?”

I shuddered at the thought. I’d give my right arm to see Ariana again, but a gathering of the whole town offering condolences was just too much. “Nah, I think I’ll pass. Why don’t you come by later and have a beer with me. We’ll catch up.”

“I’ll do that,” he said with a smile. He clapped me on the shoulder and said, “It’s really good to have you home, man.”

I watched my old friend walk away, and then I turned toward my parents’ graves. I walked past a basket of roses someone had sent and plucked two from it. I got close to the graves and knelt down on one knee. Dusting off Mom’s headstone, I laid the first rose across her grave and out loud I said, “I’m sorry it’s been so long, Mama. I think about you and miss you every day. I still talk to you sometimes; I hope you can hear me. My life is not what you wanted for me, but I promise you that I’m doing my best. I love you so much and I also promise I’ll come more often.” I turned towards his father’s then and said, “Hey Dad. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you. I wish that a lot of things were different. I never stopped loving you and I’m working on forgiveness and telling myself that you did the best you knew how. I hope you and Mom are back together now. I’m glad at least neither of you has to be alone any longer.” I got back to my feet and stood there for a few more minutes. Finally I bent down and laid the rose across the site where my father is interned. “I love you,” I whispered again, and then I turned and left them to each other.