SEAL Brotherhood 06 - SEAL My Destiny (21 page)

She paused a significant length of time to give the impression she was hearing another’s reply, then began again.

“Yes, well, I can be over there in about…oh,” she pretended to check the time on her cell, “…say, twenty minutes? Or would you and the officer like to meet me here?”

She chanced a glance up to Mr. Miller’s face and was rewarded to see some degree of alarm showing there, quickly hidden.

“Fine, Noreen. I’m sure this won’t take long, just a second.” She tucked the phone under her chin and asked him, “I’m very sorry, Mr. Miller. Do you think we could reschedule? We’ve got a meeting with the Police Athletic League about a softball tournament coming up this summer, a fundraiser. I’d completely forgotten about it until just now.”

“No. You run along. We can discuss this another day.” He stood up as she pretended to finish the call. He paced back and forth in front of her in long, liquid movements, like a panther in a cage. She knew he was dangerous, perhaps borderline psychotic. He was powerfully built as well.

“Okay, Noreen. I’m all yours in just a few. Be right over. And please tell the officers I’m sorry.” She ended the recording, hit send message and typed in her brother’s email, which was the only one she could think of. Hitting done, she let the voice message go through the airwaves to a phone which was probably somewhere on a beach in the Caribbean.

She set the phone down when Miller approached the desk. Just as he leaned forward to say something, Julie heard the delivery zip tone, indicating the message had been sent. He righted himself and looked at her carefully. She didn’t flinch but was relieved when he broke eye contact first.

“Tomorrow. I’ll meet you here tomorrow Noon. I’ll bring lunch.”

He turned around and left the room with stealth speed, and without waiting for her consent. She noted he was used to getting his way, which bothered her more than anything else. She was sure there was an unhealthy family dynamic going on there. There was no way in God’s green earth she would attend the next meeting alone.

‡

K
yle had wanted
to see Luke in the morning. Luke was feeling pretty good, and had placed a call to his psychiatrist at the medical center requesting an appointment earlier than the standing one he had next week.

He heard words being exchanged on the other side of the front door, and it was clear Christy and Kyle were having an argument. Kyle hadn’t texted him to call the meeting off, so Luke knocked.

He heard a muffled, “It’s Luke.” Kyle opened the door and stared at his bare toes while he gestured for Luke to enter their cute but very upscale home a block from the beach.

Brandon immediately dropped toys in the middle of the living room and ran over to Luke to get a hug. Luke tousled the boy’s sandy brown hair and allowed the chubby arms to hug his knees. He bent over and spoke softly to him, “How’s it hanging, little man?”

“See, Kyle, that’s what I’m talking about,” Christy snapped.

Luke stood up immediately and looked to his LPO for guidance. Kyle reassured him with their hand signal, “all clear” sliding his palm through the air.

“We’ve got to get to Brandon’s preschool to have a little parent conference. But it won’t take long,” Kyle said.

“You don’t know that,” Christy said with her hands on her hips. She was, as she usually was, dressed in a plain white silk suit which highlighted her blonde hair and tanned skin. Kyle was dressed in cargoes, flip-flops and a surfing T-shirt.

“Christy, come on. We’re talking about
Brandon
.”

“Hey, man,” Luke began. “Why don’t I stop by later on, after the dust settles?”

“Good,” said Christy.

“No way. You’re coming with us,” Kyle responded right over the top of her. “He’s gonna have to do this someday. Consider it research,” he said to Christy.

She humphed to the kitchen, picked up her purse and keys. “You guys are on your own with Brandon afterwards if they won’t take him. I have to work.”

Luke was uncomfortable, but figured whatever it was Kyle had to say to him, it was better off said in the car, and alone. Of course it would change in the years to come, but Brandon wasn’t old enough to make out much of what they discussed, whatever was on his LPO’s agenda.

They strapped Brandon into the car seat, and Kyle let the huge black Hummer roar to life.

He wanted to ask his LPO what was going on with Brandon, but figured it was a personal matter. He must have read his mind just then, because he offered an explanation.

“Remember what I told you yesterday about Brandon dropping his spoon?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, he’s f—” Kyle leaned in and whispered, “He’s fuckin’ doing it at school, too. And the teachers want to have a meet and greet.”

Which was funny. It was Kyle’s secret way of talking about the snatch-n-grabs they did overseas. A Meet and Greet with a SEAL usually meant you were the target of an investigation of some sort, and wasn’t ever considered a good thing by the target, but it was a great way to pick up intelligence.

“That all it is?”

“Think so. It’s what they told Christy. And believe me, if she’d had a reason to bust my balls any more about it, she would have.”

Luke sat back and was relieved it wasn’t about anything worse than strong language.

“She’s been grumpy lately. I’m guessing she’s pregnant.”

“Nice work, sailor. You knocked her up on the ship, then?”

“Apparently so. But if I’d have known she’d turn into this, I’d have reconsidered it.”

They both stared out the windshield for a few seconds. As if on cue, they looked at each other, and in unison, shouted, “Not!”

“Well, congrats, then,” Luke finally said while they made the turn into the First Presbyterian Preschool parking lot. Christy was already standing by her Mercedes coupe.

“For what? I didn’t tell you anything.” Kyle looked in his rear view mirror and shouted to Brandon, “Lips tight, Brandon, okay?”

“Okay Daddy,” came the enthusiastic response.

“You can’t teach ‘em too young.” Kyle got out and leaned down to look back into the Hummer. “Come on and get your butt outa there. Time to learn a lesson in being a family. You’ll have to do this someday.”

Luke wasn’t sure he wanted to accompany his LPO, but he figured he didn’t have an option.

Brandon was spewing, “Get your butt outa here,” and pointing in Luke’s direction. Kyle immediately shushed him by putting his fingers to his mouth.

“Not now Brandon,” he whispered tenderly.

Brandon put his chubby hands on either side of Kyle’s face. “Okay, Daddy,” he whispered, and smiled, his eyes bright with the secret.

Christy was frostier than at the house. Luke suspected part of the reason he was along for the ride was so Kyle didn’t have to experience a full-on assault from her, since she wouldn’t do it in front of him. Which probably pissed her off more.

In the hallway they could hear children playing on the other side of Dutch doors open for drop-off and pickup. No other parents were present and, from the sounds of the voices, it appeared classes had started a while ago.

Kyle lifted Brandon in the direction of a young teacher who greeted him with open arms, but Kyle insisted he set the toddler down on the floor on the other side of the door.

“Brandon,” he called to him.

“Yes, Daddy?”

Kyle made the motion of zipping his mouth up and Brandon nodded and repeated the action. Then his LPO watched his son run to play with the other children.

Christy was standing a few feet away with a woman in a plum-colored dress who was holding a file folder.

“Kyle, this is Nancy Jordan, the preschool director.”

Kyle shook her hand. She looked around Kyle to Luke with a question on her face.

“Oh, sorry,” Kyle said. “This is Luke. He’s one of the men I work with. If you don’t mind, Christy and I thought sitting in on a meeting would be good information for him, you know, when the day comes.”

Luke could feel Christy’s anger boil. She was way more emotional than he’d seen her in a long time. He understood all that. But her reasons were her own and impossible for him to figure out.

Nancy bowed and said hello, then led them to her office, which was just on the other side of Brandon’s playroom. A two-way mirror had been installed on both the outside wall and the interior wall, so she could observe the children.

Christy and Kyle sat at her desk and Luke found a chair in the corner, settling in, trying to make himself small.

“Okay, well, thank you for coming in today. We generally don’t do these sorts of meetings at the end of a school year. Everyone is so busy, but we felt this was important,” the director said.

“Christy said Brandon was not behaving. In what way?” Kyle asked.

“I think I can show you best by playing a little video clip we took of him,” she answered him.

Luke could tell this wasn’t going to sit right with Kyle, since videotaping children was supposed to be semi-illegal in California, except for family members or unless permission was given first. Kyle and Christy looked at each other.

“That’s illegal,” Kyle said to the director. “You take this?”

“No it was taken as a teaching aid—”

“I don’t care what’s on the fuckin’ video, if my son’s picture is on it, I’m walking outta here with it today.”

“No reason to take that tone with me, Mr. Lansdowne. I think you’ll understand, if you’ll just let me play it for you. Please.”

Kyle blustered and sat back. “Go ahead,” he mumbled.

“I’m going to erase it right after you see it. Not to worry, Mr. Lansdowne.”

The TV monitor lit up and there was a view of the playground. Brandon was riding a scooter, propelling it with his feet, chasing one of his friends in another scooter who was holding up a piece of paper bag, decorated like a flag. It was covered in scribbles and stickers. The boy in front was waving it proudly above his head.

“He’s going too fast?” Kyle said to the monitor. “That what this is about?”

“No, Mr. Lansdowne. Just watch.”

Another boy ran up behind the lead boy and snatched the flag from his fingers, which prompted Brandon to stop suddenly, causing a backup on the roadway. Several other children collided due to the traffic jam. But Brandon had abandoned his scooter and run off camera. They all could hear yelling coming from around the corner, and two of the teachers, who had been supervising some organized play nearby, immediately sprang into action. Brandon came back on camera, chasing the little boy with the flag. He overcame the youngster and pushed him to the ground, then retrieved his flag and handed it to his friend.

Walking back to his scooter, he turned and, very clearly and deliberately, said, “You fuckin’ axle.”

Kyle closed his eyes and almost swore. He didn’t watch while Brandon was led off the playground by one arm.

Luke thought it was kind of funny, but he knew it was serious for Brandon’s parents, so he respectfully tried to think of something else so he wouldn’t burst out laughing. He focused on the crack in the wood flooring, a dirty window, a fingerprint on the one-way mirror, anything.

He crossed his legs and sank further into the corner, resting his arms on his crossed lower leg and knee, placing his hand over his mouth and nose and shaking his head.

The director erased the video with the touch of a button. “There you go. All gone,” she said with a curt smile. Then she turned off the equipment, her polished purple nails matching the color of her dress.

She angled her head and looked at Christy with affection. She was obviously a nice woman, and probably had never uttered a four-letter word in her life. Luke knew this was probably way over the top for her.

“So, Mr. and Mrs. Lansdowne, I’m afraid Presbyterian Preschool has decided Brandon cannot continue with the four-year-old program next year. However, there are a number of other schools in the San Diego area which might be able to take him, if you act quickly. Or, there are several day care centers on base—”

“No. He’s not going to some fuckin’ day care center,” Kyle said before he could control himself.

“There you go,” the director said, opening her palm in Kyle’s direction. “He’s hearing this language at home, and frankly, Mrs. Lansdowne, I’m surprised you allow this to happen. I know your reputation as a very God-fearing woman who is fair and honest in her successful real estate dealings. Frankly, if I had a Realtor—”

“I don’t swear, but my husband does. He swears a lot.” She shot Kyle a look Luke couldn’t understand. Half fury, have sexual energy. He knew she’d seen her husband in little Brandon’s actions. Kyle was smart to keep his mouth shut.

“It’s an occupational hazard.” She allowed one eyebrow to rise and licked her lips. Kyle closely monitored every tiny shift of expression. He was leaning back into his chair, viewing her with half-lidded eyes, almost looking like he was enjoying her intensity. And then with a start, Luke realized he
was
!

The director wasn’t sure what she was witnessing. Squirming in her chair, she delivered a message to break the ice, “I suppose if you work on it over the summer, we could check on him nearer the fall, and see if his language has improved—”