Nashville SEAL: SEAL Brotherhood: Nashville SEALs (14 page)

“I’m fine. I just never knew he could sing like that,” which didn’t satisfy her friend one bit.

He strummed the last chord, graciously nodding to the crowd, his quick glances to her raising her expectations and shattering anything she had left of moving on and being able to forget him. It wasn’t that he was a performer, and he was good. It was his words and how he sang them to her. He had shown a whole room of people what was in his heart. Maybe it was unwise to dare to hope he wanted something more permanent, something she’d not allowed herself to dream or feel any longer. Could it be?

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen. There’s something I gotta do right now. So, if he’s willing, I’m gonna ask Thomas to come up here for a second and relieve me.”

Thomas gave her a pat on the back, clearing his throat as he walked past her and made his way up to the stage. The two men discussed something privately, and Jameson handed a folded piece of paper to him.

She saw that Thomas tried to push the paper back into Jameson’s chest, but he was unsuccessful. Jameson gave a salute and handed Thomas his guitar, then her tall drink of water jumped down off the stage and headed right for her.

Chairs moved out of the way as the audience remained in hushed silence, candles flickering on the tables like stars in a clear winter sky.

Thomas began his introduction fro the stage. “Jameson wrote this song as well. But, he made the mistake of asking me what I thought about it, and so I made some changes. He learned his lesson with this last one.” Thomas watched Jameson continue on his straight trajectory.

As he stood before her, Jameson took Lizzie’s hand and pulled her to standing position, their bodies barely touching. With hands framing her face, angling her backward, he whispered, “You don’t know how many nights I dreamed about doing this. Forgive me, but I just can’t help myself.”

She was going to say something, at least give her consent, but he bent over farther and covered her mouth with his.

Her senses were flooded with the currents of pleasure winding around her neck, down her spine, and between her legs as he gently suckled her mouth, being careful as if she was a China doll. She inhaled and stepped to him as their kiss deepened. She placed her palm over his heart and felt how fast it was beating. Her arms slipped up his back as their tongues mated.

Thomas was trying to steal the crowd’s attention, but many had stood up and began clapping.

“Well, that’s fine, yes, let’s give them a round of applause. Jameson and his Lizzie. I think they’re gonna be a little busy tonight, but I could be wrong.”

Women in the audience were also crying. Couples hugged one another and kissed. When their kiss was over, Lizzie knew her cheeks were flushed, and it was only then that her self-consciousness rose to embarrassment—kissing him so deeply and intimately in front of so many people she didn’t know. But Jameson was there, standing tall and looking as handsome as she’d ever seen him, clear-eyed and proud, focused and fully accepting.

It was a different Jameson she kissed. He went away to the Navy a raw young man with raging hormones and an ego the size of the State of Tennessee and came back a man who could love, show his love, and who had obviously chosen her. For the first time since she’d met him, she believed that he loved her back as intensely as she had always loved him.

“Okay, folks,” Thomas began after another round of applause had erupted. “Show’s over, at least that show. Now I got something special for you, but you’re gonna have to forgive me because I’m not well-practiced on this song.”

The audience laughed, and those that had been standing, seated themselves.

Thomas picked his way through a whole stanza, giving the audience a preview of what was to come. The folded piece of paper fell to the floor as he began singing. Jameson held her in a slow dance pose and rocked her from side to side.

On a Sunday afternoon when I was feeling kinda low.

I thought I’d pay a visit to a girl I used to know.

Lizzie swayed and turned as they began a slow dance. She was having a hard time following the words, her heart was beating so loud. She also heard Jameson humming the tune, smiling down at her.

When I stepped up on her front porch and knocked upon her door,

I was greeted by an angel’s face I was sure I’d seen before.

She’s got my eyes,

She darted a quick look to Jameson’s face, and watched him softly sing the words while he swung her around to the rear of the club over by the bar.

I knew in my first glance that she was mine.

I never felt so happy,

’Cause a little girl with pigtails had my eyes.

In a darkened corner, he kissed her again. “I was a complete idiot, Lizzie. I want us to be a family. I never should have left you the first time.”

Her head was swimming. The attention from the crowd and the heat between she and Jameson made her wonder if she might pass out. She couldn’t speak. She pressed her palms on his chest, fingering the intricate beading on his shirt as if her life’s story were recorded in the beads, smoothing over the hand-stitched work of art. Her head was trying to focus. Her mouth opened and closed, but still words would not come. His arms encircled and pressed her close while he rocked from side to side.

Jameson nodded to Thomas on stage, who continued with the song, and even managed to give him back a thumbs up.

Jameson’s chest grew large with the breath he inhaled. “Marry me, Lizzie.”

Was she hearing this? Was this really happening? She closed her eyes and felt his warm cheek against hers, as he whispered in her ear. “Help me to be Charlotte’s daddy. Help me to be the man I want to be.”

“Jameson—I just—”

“I gotta know, Lizzie. Do you love me?”

“Of course I love you. But all this—”

“You started it, sweetheart, by walking back into my life. You had no right doing that. You gave me the chance to be the man I was meant to be.”

“But you just joined the Navy. You’re going to be deployed.”

“What? You think deployed men don’t have wives and children? You think no one waits for them at home?”

“No. I didn’t mean that—”

“I’m a different man, Lizzie. I grew up, became a man at last. And a man takes responsibility for his actions.” He held her face again, kissing her softly on the lips. “A real man knows how to love a woman, can love a woman more than he loves life itself, Lizzie. You are that woman for me. And I promise, I’ll always come back to you.”

She buried her face in his chest, just as Thomas received the well-deserved applause for the performance of his lifetime.

Jameson ushered her back to the table she’d shared with Kendra. As he climbed the stage, she took the hand of her friend and sighed.

“Unbelievable. I was totally not expecting this.”

Kendra leaned back in her chair as Jameson began to play with the band’s accompaniment. Thomas remained with him on stage.

Lizzie watched her friend shake her head. “I can’t say it was unexpected. I mean, what did you think was going to happen when you wore that red dress? Poor Jameson didn’t have a chance, Lizzie.”

They agreed that Lizzie would stay for Jameson’s second show and Kendra would go home to relieve the babysitter.

“Are you happy, Lizzie?”

“Yes.”

“Well, tell your face. You look like you stepped in front of a huge semi.”

“It’s just so fast.”

Kendra folded her arms over each other. “Really? You honestly can’t tell me you ever stopped loving him. And it has nothing to do with Charlotte, either. You’ve loved him for over three years.”

“You’re right,” Lizzie admitted. “Thanks, Kendra. I’ll stop by in the morning, and if you’re game, we’ll all go out to breakfast.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. I don’t work tomorrow, so you go have a good time. The girls and I will be fine.” She leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Love you, sweetie.”

“Love you, too, Kendra. Thanks.”

Lizzie wanted to
go back to Jameson’s dressing room at the break, but didn’t want to interfere with whatever he and Thomas were discussing. Jameson gave her a wave and blew a kiss, holding up his ten fingers. She blew him back a kiss and put her right hand over her heart.

It had been a perfect night. She was looking forward to their reunion later on, alone.

Near the end of the second set, Lizzie got a text from Kendra. She noticed she’d had her ringer turned off and had missed two calls from her as well. What she read in the text message blew up her world.

The girls are gone, Lizzie. The babysitter, too. They’re gone!

‡

W
hen Jameson and
Lizzie arrived at Kendra’s house, two police cruisers and an unmarked vehicle were pulled in front and in the driveway, so Jameson parked a block away. He grabbed her hand, leading her carefully, racing toward the front door until they were stopped by two uniformed policemen.

“Our daughter is one of the victims,” Jameson reported to them. He was still catching his breath, but felt Lizzie jump at the use of the word “victim.”

“I’ll escort you in,” answered one officer. He led the way, Jameson and Lizzie following right behind him.

Once inside the living room, Kendra stood up, her face ashen, streaked with tears, deep lines in her forehead, her eyes puffy. “God, Lizzie. I’m so sorry about this.”

Lizzie collapsed into her arms. The two women consoled each other while Jameson introduced himself to another officer inside the house.

“You think the babysitter could have taken them some place on her own, like on an errand?” the officer asked.

Kendra broke free of the embrace and spoke up. “No. I’ve used her many times and I know the family. She would never do something like this.”

“What about her friends, Kendra?” asked Lizzie.

“Friends? She wasn’t alone then?” asked the officer.

“Well, she asked permission to have a couple of her classmates from school come over to study after the girls were asleep. We reluctantly agreed.”

“I’m going to need the information on the friends in addition to your sitter. That’s Cissy Gunther?”

“Yes. Look, I called her home a few minutes ago, and that’s why I called you guys. Her mother didn’t know anything about this, and she didn’t have the car. So they would have had to leave in one of her friend’s cars, if her friends were even here.”

Kendra glanced at the policeman and at the plain-clothed detective who was on his cell phone. Jameson knew there was something she was hiding.

“You told him about this?” the policeman pointed to the detective on the phone.

“Yes. I think they’re scouring for a yearbook, for a picture of her. The principal is coming over in a few minutes, too.” She examined her slippered feet. “Lizzie, they’re treating this as if it’s a ransom for hire. Expecting there will be demands for cash for the girls. They’re bringing in equipment to listen for a ransom call.”

Jameson didn’t believe that theory. Lizzie had told him about the book of poetry and the possibility that exchange students had been at the house. He knew it was no coincidence, and had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He’d called Kyle, letting him know what was happening. Kyle and several other SEALs were on their way over to help with a possible search. What they needed was a break, someone who had an idea about who was responsible, or knew
something
about these people. Otherwise, it was like finding a needle in a haystack and would be a huge waste of everyone’s time. Not that it would stop them from trying.

The plain-clothed officer informed them he’d notified the FBI, who had asked to be briefed.

“So you’re not convinced this is a ransom situation, that right?” Jameson asked the older gentleman.

“Well, I can’t ask them to jump in here without something more credible. It will eat up man-hours and such. We get a phone call or someone knows something about this babysitter, we go from there. But we’re prepared for every eventuality.”

The high school principal was ushered in by the same officer who accompanied Jameson and Lizzie.

“God, I’m so sorry. I brought the files the police asked me to bring. I’m afraid I can’t be of much help.”

Jameson needed to ask a question of the detective. “You asked all the neighbors yet? Maybe they saw something?”

“Yes, we have two on it right now. Its taking a while because most everyone is asleep, even with all the activity going on here.”

“Mr. Daniels, we’re detaining a guy who says he’s your boss outside. I can’t let him in here, but do you want to go speak with him? He’s more than a little persistent.” The young uniform grinned. “If you know what I mean.”

“That would be Kyle,” Jameson said. “I’ll be right back.”

On his way out the door, he watched as the principal handed the plain-clothed detective the file he’d brought. “These are all the exchange kids. We have them from Brazil, from France, and, this year, a batch from Syria. With the civil war going on there and all, we agreed to take in a few extra.”

Jameson stopped, dead still. “You said Syria? How many from Syria?”