Page 43 of Long Past Deadly

Cait searched for a tissue in her pocket. “I met her. In the fall sometime, stumbled on the two of them at the Farmer’s Market. He came to me later and asked me not to say anything, yet. I didn’t. Then they’d split and he got killed. I didn’t think anything else about it.” Cait gave a little cry and pulled away from him.

Hunt stood in the doorway, camo uniform making it obvious he’d been in the field training. Cait launched herself at him. He caught her and wrapped her close like he always did. Quaid marveled at their relationship, difficult as it was with two opposite professions. He pulled Elizabeth closer, too. He sometimes forgot she needed his support. She was so strong and determined, but anything that touched on sons was a hard topic.

Cait whispered the situation to Hunt, and every emotion Quaid had seen on the man’s face for the last two months – the raw pain, the deep grief, the unfathomable fury – rolled over his features in a dark cloud and left him stone-faced.

Quaid looked to Mackey. He was out of his depth, but Mackey’s expression was pained, too. As a man with a mother, five sisters, and a father who had died suddenly several years ago, family shit hit him hard, too.

“We have to tell Bess,” Elizabeth repeated.

Harrison put his hands on his hips, lips tight, reluctant to say what was on his mind. As Hunt’s former commander, this situation may have been repeated in some form or another in his command experience.

But Quaid liked all the facts before reacting. “Harry, what’s your take?”

Elizabeth stiffened.

“For context,” he whispered to Elizabeth.

Harrison studied Elizabeth closely. “The Navy will want DNA to confirm. Dangerous to do that before its born. That’s all I was going to say.”

Hunt set Cait on her feet, and the two moved closer to the group. The six of them stood in a loose circle, reaching for each other. The thick silence held a hard hit of grief. Their shared history awakened old instincts developed from shared missions, dangerous situations, multiple deaths, and silent commitment. They pulled together. They always had since Afghanistan.

Mackey looked to Hunt. “What would Baxter want?”

Hunt cleared his throat, his eyes flat. “He loved kids. Would have been a great father. He’d want us to do what we could to help her.”

“Bess is that baby’s grandmother. We cannot exclude her.” Elizabeth’s soft voice rang with stubbornness.

“And you shouldn’t.” Alanna stood in the doorway, papers in one hand and the other on the doorknob, eyes focused on Elizabeth.

A silence fell, tight and unforgiving.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I could hear.” She moved a few steps into the room.

Quaid was torn in two. A deep desire to pull Alanna in sparked its way through him. But this was family, their family business, and Alanna, as much as he liked her, wasn’t in this core. They protected each other at all costs.

She licked her lips and continued softly, showing respect and deference to the topic. “Let Bess keep her agency. The power of her motherhood and making choices he would have wanted is all she has left. Keep that intact for her.”

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes steady on Alanna’s face. “She’s right.”

Alanna’s eyes shifted to Hunt and Cait. “And it costs you nothing to help this woman. Even if it turns out later everything isn’t as it seems because sometimes you have to take your miracles when you get them.”

Cait’s eyes glossed over with tears. “Thanks,” she whispered.

“I’m here if you need a shoulder.” She walked out, shutting the door behind her.

She never looked his way, clearly not expecting anything. That pounded a crater into his world.

People expected things from him.

She expected nothing.

That bit at him.

He inhaled quietly, searching for stable ground in his head.

Agency. A word she knew everything about.

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