Chronic (Se7en Deadly SEALs Book 2) (6 page)

AUTUMN PICKED ME UP IN the morning to drive to Temecula—a small town an hour north of San Diego. My hands trembled as she handed over the coffee she had picked up for me at Starbucks.

Tiffany. After all this time, I would get a glimpse into the life of the woman my brother was accused of murdering.

Autumn’s car sped north on the freeway. “Thanks for coming with. Most of the other Russian girls I’ve met were like super stuck up, but you’re not. I feel like I know you.”

“You are very welcome. I’m from the Ukraine, not Russia.”

She tapped her fingernails on the steering wheel. “Right, I know. Eastern Europe I mean. So why did you start dancing?”

God, this girl needed a friend. She oozed loneliness. And I hated that she called stripping dancing. I cringed at the comparison. Dancing was an art form, like acting. Stripping was nothing more than a way for men to get off and perpetuate an unhealthy perception of women. “I live with my grandmother. She died, and I pay the bills. My English, it is not so good. I am ballroom dancer. Now, I dance for men. Why are you dancer for men?”

She let out a sigh. “Wow. Your story is way cooler than mine. I was a fuckup in high school, dropped out. I started dating this guy Jeff—real jerk, loser, used to hit me.” She looked away from me, the color draining from her face.

Poor girl. I used to always lecture Grant that most strippers were abuse survivors. Or plain bat shit crazy—I clearly fell into the latter category. Some mornings I woke up completely shocked that I’d actually gone through with this crazy plan.

“Anyway, he told me I could make good money at Panthers so I tried it out. Him and me broke up and all. One day, I want to go to beauty school. But for now, I like dancing. I mean I meet super interesting people. Like you . . . and Grant. You know he’s a SEAL right?”

Yup. Painfully aware. I was the girl who gave him massages, prepared Epsom salt baths for him, and bandaged his feet every night for six months during BUD/S. “He told to me.” I paused, an ache growing in my throat. This girl was clearly still hung up on Grant, and here I was mind-fucking him, no hope of being serious again because I was lying about whom I was. Using him for information. But I didn’t have a choice anymore—I was in too deep. I needed him now.

“Don’t worry. I’m not like in love with him or anything,” she said playfully like she could read my mind. “I just think he’s super hot, and it’s so cool that he’s a SEAL. I’d love to be with a guy who could protect me, you know? Maybe you can hook me up with one of his friends?”

“Sure. I invite you to next party.” I really liked her. I had learned since I started this experiment that I needed to be less judgmental. Autumn was a sweet girl. She deserved love.

We exited the freeway and took the back roads. The view of the mountains and the vineyards calmed my nerves. For this ride, I felt connected to life. Even Autumn’s chatter didn’t seem to disturb my peace. I was happy to live in this moment, no thought of my past or future.

We pulled up to a small tract house just outside of Temecula, in Winchester. The neighborhood sported matching homes, uniform lawns, and wide sidewalks. Just a few years ago, this town had been wrecked with foreclosures. It was nice to see that it was beginning to recover.

An older woman, silver hair streaked with black, a saddened glaze in her eyes, opened the door, a small boy clutching her leg. But when the toddler’s face came into focus, I gasped.

His eyes—deep hazel eyes with mile-long lashes. Eyes that were so familiar . . . that I was certain I’d looked into them my whole life.

The heat in my body rose. No. It couldn’t be. A horrible thought flashed through my head, like this boy was a ghost or a zombie.

Fuck, Mia, you’re losing it.

I took a deep breath and said a prayer, trying to calm myself down. Who was this little boy? Was he Tiffany’s son? There was no mention of a child in her obituary. This boy was around two years old—Joaquín would’ve been about to leave on deployment. And my brother had told me he’d never met Tiffany before that night.

Had he been lying to me?

His eyes looked exactly like my dad’s—almond shaped, long lashes, a slight slant on the left eyelid.

My mouth became dry. This couldn’t just be some random coincidence.

The boy walked forward, his gaze focused on me. Autumn and Tiffany’s mother embraced.

I steadied my nerves, crouched down near the boy. “What is your name?”

The little boy didn’t speak. He reached his hand out to me, pointing at my purse.

His grandmother grabbed him by his hand. “Julián, don’t be so rude.”

She turned to me, and I rose from my position. “Sorry about that. Come inside. Would you girls like some iced tea?”

Iced tea? Tequila sounded better.

We walked in and sat on the sofa. The house was clean for having such a young boy. Pictures of Tiffany and Julián were everywhere—yet there wasn’t a single picture of any guy with them. She had to be his mom. Had she hid this kid from the police? That was impossible. If Autumn knew about the mother, then the police would also. Why was he not mentioned in a single police report, or news article? I studied one of Tiffany’s pictures, so unlike the stripper headshot the media had been running in the papers. In this one, her hair was a natural light brown, her green eyes weren’t sad, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. She looked fresh-faced, almost innocent. No painted-on eyebrows, self-tanner, or jet-black hair. What happened to her? What was her story?

The grandmother handed us two glasses of iced tea. “So did you know my daughter?”

“No, I did not. But Autumn has told to me about her.” My mind was racing, trying to find a way to confirm that Tiffany was Julián’s mother.

“She was a troubled girl. She was definitely mixed up in some heavy shit—but the best thing she ever did was let me raise Julián when he was born. And I thank God every day she stayed clean while she was pregnant. Well the truth is, I didn’t even know she was pregnant! Her own mother? Imagine that! She had vanished for a year and shown up with this baby one day asking me to take care of him. She did her best to visit when she could, but she made sure to keep Julián sheltered from her life down in San Diego.”

My hands started shaking and I choked back tears.

It couldn’t be, Mia. No way. Stop. This boy is not your son.

Fuck. I needed to get away from here. I was having a psychotic break.

Focus Mia, back to the case. Tiffany had been an addict? I’d always suspected that but had no proof, just a gut feeling. Drugs. This murder had to be linked to drugs. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. But I had to know who Julián’s father was. Maybe I was just losing my mind, but I’d bet Joaquín’s life that this boy was my nephew. Had my brother kept a secret from me? The same secret I kept from him? That would be too coincidental. I needed to be rational.

I decided to make an emotional plea. “My parents, they are dead. It must be so sad to you and to her boy. Is his father still in picture?”

I waited on her words. “No. Tiffany wouldn’t even tell me who he was, but I have my suspicions. I’m pretty sure he was her high school boyfriend, real loser, definitely not good enough for my Tiffy or Julián. I figure if Tiffy didn’t want the dad to know, then it isn’t my place to go against her wishes, you know?”

I nodded my head but was saddened by her flawed thinking. The father had the right to know about his child unless that knowledge would put the child’s life in danger. Just like I had the right to know if this little boy was my nephew. But then again, I more than anyone understood Tiffany’s rationale. But my situation had been complicated. And I handled it the only way I knew how.

Autumn tapped her fingernails on the coffee table. “Any updates on the case?”

“No. That rat-bastard should fry. They should use a firing squad on his ass and save the taxpayers’ money.”

My stomach ached. This woman seemed utterly convinced that Joaquín killed her daughter, not that I blamed her.

The grandmother spent the next hour reveling in Autumn’s every story about Tiffany. I could completely relate to Tiffany’s mom—now that I had no family left, I clung to every memory I could involving my parents and Joaquín.

After our visit came to a close, we started saying our goodbyes. Autumn promised to come by again, and try to bring Tiffany’s other friends. But I knew that was a long shot because the other girls seemed to have already washed their hands of the situation. Tiffany had been forgotten.

I knelt down on the carpet to say goodbye to Julián.

The little boy stood there, assessing me, arms crossed over his chest, before a reluctant little smile eased over his face and he threw his tiny body at me in a hug. Still silent. His small frame wrapped around me, and I couldn’t resist. I knelt down and hugged him back—so hard, I never wanted to let go. It was as if I was hugging Joaquín again. This boy smelt familiar, like home,
mi familia
. But I wasn’t going to miss my chance to get confirmation of my suspicions. I tugged on his head and plucked a few strands of his hair out of his scalp, shoving them into my pocket.

Julián seemed to startle but didn’t cry. Just gave me a sad face, and Autumn and I left.

Once inside Autumn’s car, she placed her hand on my knee. “Thanks, Ksenya, for coming with.”

“Of course. I had good time.”

She smiled and pulled away from the curb. Autumn didn’t have a clue that she had just given me a huge break in this case. That she, a woman who spent the night with the love of my life, may have led me to the one clue that could unravel this mystery.

After a long drive, Autumn dropped me off at home. Once safely inside, I took the hairs out of my pocket and stuffed them into a plastic bag, along with strands of Joaquín’s hair that I had collected from his apartment when I decided to go undercover. I would mail them to Roman who would be able to send them to a DNA lab. By next week, I would know if Julián was my brother’s son.

***

LAST NIGHT, I HAD AN overnight rotation training the BUD/S candidates. Joaquín was supposed to be standing by my side, yelling at these trainees, making sure they had what it took to save our brothers’ asses. One time during surf torture in our BUD/S class, Joaquín and I held on to each other all night, ensuring that we wouldn’t die from hypothermia. I wasn’t gay, but I never felt as close to another man as I had that night. We were more than friends, more than Teammates, more than brothers—we were swim buddies. Now I couldn’t help but feel farther apart from him than ever. I was relaxing in my favorite chair, my dog by my side, while he was in a cold cell, alone, away from his loved ones.

But I might still have his loved one in my grasp.

Today I had a plan—a plan that would rattle Ksenya.

I asked her to meet me downtown in front of the sushi place where Ksenya and I had gone on our first date last week. She showed up, dressed casually. Jeans, white tank top, hair in a ponytail, flip flops, light makeup. She looked pretty. Normal, in fact.

Her head tilted and she pulled me toward her for a kiss. I kissed her back. Her lips tasted sweet, fragrant. Like Mia used to taste. And in this moment, I wanted to just take her away, torture her until she confessed the truth, and try to get my old girlfriend back.

“Grant, you want to eat it, the sushi again? Maybe we try something new?”

Her eyes were hidden behind huge sunglasses. I wanted to see them react to what I was about to tell her.

I squeezed her shoulders. “I’m not that hungry actually. How ‘bout we grab a cup of coffee instead?”

She smiled and we went inside a seedy donut shop. I ordered two old-fashioned glazed donuts and two hot coffees. We sat at the table by the window. She took off her sunglasses, and I stared into her eyes.

“Actually, I tricked you.” I studied her face, hoping she would squirm under my words.

She tapped her fingers on the plastic table, but her poker face showed no fear. “You did?”

“I wanted to see if you’d come with me. My buddy, he’s in the jail down the street.”

The coffee cup was halfway to her mouth when she froze.

Her face turned ashen, the tiny hairs on her arms lifted.

Bingo.
I got her.

“In jail? What is the crime?” she said, her voice shaking.

I cocked my head to the side at her. “Murder,” I said, flatly.

Her hands wrapped around her Styrofoam coffee cup again and this time she took a sip. “Yes, of course, Grant. I go together with you.”

She ate the rest of her donut in silence. When we finished, we stood up and I grabbed her hand. It was clammy.

I’d called Joaquín’s lawyer last night, under the guise of seeing if there were any breaks in the case. He’d said unfortunately no. I asked him to see if Joaquín would accept a visit from me. The lawyer called me a few hours ago to let me know that Joaquín had agreed. I then requested and received permission from my command, and here I was. With Ksenya, aka Joaquín’s sister.

We walked into the county jail and handed over our driver’s licenses. Ksenya had a valid one that rang up in the computer. Who had provided her with her documents? I knew some guys back home in Chicago who could get people papers but dealing with them was not for amateurs. I didn’t have a clue what type of shady characters she was surrounding herself with.

We milled around the waiting room with some other hapless souls. This place reeked of desperation. The entire time we waited, Ksenya didn’t utter a word, just gave me a dazed smile.

Finally, a guard led us to a room where we sat at a small partition. After yet another wait, Joaquín and some other inmates walked through the door.

Ksenya gasped when he came into focus. My jaw gaped as well. It had been seven months since I’d seen him. His body was still massive, but his face was now bloated, his eyes were tired, his skin was yellow. A single tear escaped Ksenya’s eye and she quickly wiped it.

Joaquín picked up the phone. “Thanks for coming, bro.” He nodded his chin in Ksenya’s direction. “Guess you’re finally over my sis. Who’s the fox?”

I laughed. If he only knew what the fuck he was saying. “This is Ksenya, a stripper from the Ukraine. How you been, man?”

“Be careful with those strippers, man, or you’ll end up in here with me. I’m fine, all things considered.” Joaquín eye-fucked Ksenya some more. I understood he probably hadn’t seen a woman in months but still. Talk about awkward.

Ksenya hunched her shoulders, cowered her chest. I wondered if she was beginning to feel as nauseous as I was by this little visit. Served her fucking right.

“Lawyer says I have a good shot of getting off.” Joaquín was still staring at Ksenya. “Have you heard from Mia? I heard she’s vanished.”

“Naw, dude. She’s gone. She came to visit me after you were arrested but I kicked her out. Sorry, bro, but I couldn’t deal with her bullshit. But I didn’t expect her to drop off the face of the earth.”

He looked at his feet and I took the opportunity to glance over my shoulder at Ksenya. Her eyes were locked on Joaquín, but I recognized her look. She was plotting something.

I wanted to milk this visit for as long as I possibly could—not just to see my buddy, but also to fuck with Mia a bit more. And, I wasn’t that much of an asshole that I couldn’t admit that a small part of me also wanted to give this gift to her. Allow her to connect with her brother. God only knew when she would have the chance to again.

I gave Joaquín a quick update on the guys from the Team. Joaquín’s eyes kept darting to Ksenya. I was beginning to think maybe he wasn’t just checking her out. Maybe he sensed something was off with her too.

The guard gave us the two-minute warning. “Well, I appreciate you visiting me. Extra props for giving me some eye candy.” He tapped on the glass toward Ksenya. “Nice to meet you.”

She took the phone out of my hand, clutching the receiver like it was her lifeline, pressing her wrist to the glass. “Nice to meet together with you, too.” She spoke slowly and drew out every word, as if she was hanging on to their fleeting moment together.

And that’s when I caught it. Something triggered Joaquín. His jaw fell open and his eyes did a double take. Before he could say a word, the guard opened the door back up, and Joaquín was led away.

A lump grew in my throat at seeing his retreating form. I loved that guy, and I prayed that one day we’d once again be swimming in the open ocean together.

I turned my attention back on Ksenya, who I found with a dazed look on her face, her eyes now glossy. I studied her. What the fuck did I miss? I’d been watching her the entire time. She didn’t have a chance to whisper anything to him, reveal her identity. But even if she had, I’m not sure she would be stupid enough to say something when I was present.

I held her hand. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulders as we walked out of the jail.

Once outside, I dropped her hand. But that’s when I saw it. She was wearing a bracelet. It was bright and beaded and rainbow-colored—one of those ugly pieces of jewelry that had been popular when we were kids. Definitely not something a grown woman would wear, even if she were from a different country. And I knew for a fucking fact that she hadn’t been wearing it earlier in the day.

I’d never seen that bracelet before. Not in all the years that I dated her. Not during all the times that I hung out at her place.

Joaquín had apparently seen it though. Joaquín knew what it meant.

And I knew that the cracks in Ksenya’s game were beginning to show.

It was only a matter of time before I broke her. Before I called her out on her bullshit. Before I made her beg for my forgiveness. Before I got rid of her once and forever.

I definitely wasn’t ready to call her bluff. Oh no, we were just getting started. But for tonight, I had probably fucked with her enough. Joaquín was her limit. “You okay?”

“Yes,” she offered, her voice breaking. “I feel bad for your friend. It must be hard to be in jail. He is innocent, yes?”

I suppressed my emotions—anger, shock, hurt, and victory—all bottled inside. I held Mia in my arms, the way I once had, years ago. “Yeah, he is. He’s a great guy. He’s like my brother. In fact, he almost was my brother. That girl I told you about, who left me—she was his sister. I’d never told her, but I’d planned on asking her to marry me. Had even asked for Joaquín’s permission. But she’s vanished from the face of the earth. And now, I’m all he has left.”

She winced—her shoulders slumping—and dropped my gaze. She seemed to ponder this information for a beat and I hoped to hell she might crack, but instead she buried her head in my chest. Now my fucking heart ached. I wanted to interrogate her, demand answers. But instead, I pushed a lock of hair from her forehead, taking special notice of her dark roots that were becoming visible.

“That girl…” I could barely hear her muffled voice. “I’m sure she knows it, what a mistake she made.”

***