As soon as I say it, Evan busts out laughing. Our moment of hilarity only lasts a few seconds before a hangar light comes on across the bay.
“That’s where Chesley likes to hang out.”
“He has a girl with him. She’s young,” I state, looking through the binoculars. Part of me is waiting for Evan to train his rifle on Chesley, but I know he’s not willing to do time, and I’m not willing to let him kill one of the men who can give us answers.
“Probably Abigail … the reason we’re in this mess.”
“I feel sorry for her,” I say out of nowhere.
“Me too. She gets kidnapped, raped, sent to Cuba to be a sex slave, then gets saved by us only to have her mother die. That kid is scarred for life thanks to Lawson.”
“Do you think Lawson killed her mother?” I ask.
“Yup, I do. Lawson is a sick fuck with all the answers. He started this shit and will likely die without telling a soul everything we want to know.”
Chesley and Abigail get into a car and it speeds off into the darkness. The rest of the Navy shipyard is quiet, except for a few sailors hanging around doing grunt work. It’s odd that no one was watching that trawler come in, in the middle of night. Unless, they were waiting for it and Evan scared it off.
When the sun peeks over the mountains, I stretch and yawn. I slept outside, finding it easier than sleeping in a bed. I don’t care how long I’ve been back, after living in the jungle for six years it’s hard to confine yourself to a box, regardless of how comfortable it is.
The bay is bustling with fishermen as they head out for their first or next catch of the day. I don’t know what time it is, but aside from needing to be close to the shipyard I understand why Evan loves this house so much. The way the sun casts an orange glow makes everything seem right in the world. I’ve heard that the Pacific Northwest has some of the most amazing sunrises and sunsets, and now I can confirm that. I could get used to waking up like this every day.
The sliding glass opens and Ryley steps out. She’s dressed in a Navy T-shirt and flannel pants with her hair braided. Behind me, EJ is knocking on the window, waving. He runs off, wearing nothing but his underwear and screaming at Evan.
/> “Morning.” After handing me a cup of coffee, she curls up in the chair that Evan sat in not a few hours before. If she’s leery of the rifle resting against the deck railing, she doesn’t say anything.
“Sorry for sleeping out here,” I say after taking a sip of the coffee.
“Don’t be. Evan does it often. I understand.”
I nod a thank you, grateful that she’s not only willing to open her home to me, but she accepts me with all my odd habits.
“Marley called this morning and would like you to come to her office around nine. I have to head that way, so I was wondering if you’d like to drive in with me.”
My body tenses. It’s only been a day since I met with Marley and I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not that she wants to see me so soon. Ryley places her hand on top of mine and squeezes.
“It’s going to be okay, Tucker. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but it will. We’ll find Penny and Claire and bring them home.”
“Where exactly is home?” I ask, hoping my voice doesn’t break. The last thing I want is for Ryley, or anyone else for that matter, to see me cry.
“For right now, home is here. It doesn’t have to be a place, or specific house. Home is where you hang up your coat and kick off your shoes. Home is where you sit down for a nice meal, and if you have your friends surrounding you, it’s so much better. You are welcome here for as long as it takes, and so are Penny and Claire.”
“Thank you, Ryley. You’re a good woman.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not, Tucker. I’m a woman who lost, too, and I know what it feels like to not have somewhere to come home to.”
I look at her strangely wondering what she’s talking about. She smiles sweetly and leans back in her chair, pulling her legs up. “When Evan died, the house we shared didn’t feel like the one we had bought together. Everything about it was wrong. The paint wasn’t what we chose; the furniture wasn’t what we bought. I hated it. I hated everything about it, but I stayed because he had eaten off those dishes and had sat on that couch. I stayed because the bed that I slept in was the same one he did.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I tell her.
“Sure it does. With Evan gone, I had to make it a new home with his memories. And that’s what it came down to … memories. And the best thing about memories is that you can take them anywhere.” She turns to me and winks, telling me that she’s always right no matter how confusing she may sound.
“I’m going to go shower,” I say, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Archer is a lucky man.”
“You’ll be lucky, too, when you have Penny back in your arms.”
Her words give me pause and hit me straight in the chest. I dream of the day when I can hold Penny again, when I can feel her nestled into my neck and her body pressed against mine.
The problem with my dream is that it seems to be quickly fading. The tick tock of the law is fighting against me.