Page 1 of Point of Contact

Chapter One

July 2007—Ten months before

“Cowabunga, bitch!”

Trevor Estes winced and glanced toward the open window, resisting the urge to go look out. The men in the backyard weren’t children, but...

A loud splash and some whoops had Trevor pushing out of his chair and hurrying to the window. The party was rowdy, but nothing was broken and nobody had gotten hurt—yet. Trevor jumped as he felt strong arms wrap around his waist, a chin coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Everything’s fine, babe,” Carl whispered in his ear.

Trevor shook his head. “That damn keg. Some of them are underage. What if—”

“Trev, if they’re old enough to go to war, they’re old enough to have a beer first.” Carl’s voice was firm. “Besides, you laid the rules out for Riley before you agreed to the keg. Nobody drives, everybody stays the night. You collected all the keys, right?”

Trevor nodded, waving his hand at the small plastic bucket on the corner of his desk. It currently held all the car keys surrendered to him at the door by grinning young men who’d made a beeline for the backyard pool and the full keg his nineteen-year-old son had talked him into getting.

Carl tightened his arms. “Then let them have their fun tonight, just guys hanging with their buddies, swimming, having some brats and beers.”

Trevor took a deep breath. It wasn’t the party, or even the keg, not really. It was the thought of the next day, of the goodbye, of sending his son off into the unknown... The keg was just the convenient target of his anxiety.

Carl seemed to realize this, because he gave Trevor a gentle kiss. “You’re wanting to play dad one more time tonight, and that’s okay.”

Swallowing against the gigantic lump in his throat, Trevor forced out, “How am I going to get through this deployment, Carl?”

“Like every other parent, every other spouse, every other loved one does. One day at a time.”

With a small sob, Trevor turned and hugged Carl close, breathing deeply of the comforting, familiar scent of his aftershave. He let himself wallow for a few moments, then, squaring his shoulders, pulled away. “You’re right. I’m not the only dad saying goodbye to his son tomorrow. I’ve got to get a grip.”

“That’s the spirit.” Carl winked at him and ran the backs of his fingers down Trevor’s cheek. “Now go man that grill and try to have a good time. You know if Riley sees you upset—”

“I know.” Trevor pulled Carl’s head down to give him a hard, smacking kiss. “Thanks, babe.”

The doorbell rang with a loud, echoing peal, and Trevor hurried to answer it. He swung the door open, saying brightly, “Hey, I’m Riley’s dad, Trevor. Here for the party?”

The man in the entryway nodded. “Yes, sir. I’m Jesse Byrne, one of his roommates at the barracks.”

Trevor stuck his hand out and they shook, looking each other over. Jesse was a few inches taller than Trevor’s 5ꞌ11", military-cut blond hair bleached almost white by the sun. He was wearing a pair of board shorts in a loud Hawaiian print and a faded cotton tank top with the words Polite as Fuck printed on it. When he pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head, Trevor could see his eyes were a bright blue-green.

He seemed a little older than the other guys, maybe early twenties instead of late teens. Good. At least there’d be one legal drinker in the bunch. Trevor tried to remember what else Riley had told him about his roommates but couldn’t bring anything to mind.

He stood back to let Jesse into the house. “I need your keys before you drink. House rules.” Jesse didn’t protest, just handed him the keys without comment, dropping them into Trevor’s outstretched palm.

“Thanks. Everyone’s in the back swimming, and I’m about to grill some burgers and brats. You hungry?”

“Yes, sir.” Jesse’s voice was deep and husky, with what sounded like a hint of the South in it.

“Well, go on out and join the party. We’ll eat soon.”

Trevor gestured toward the French doors leading to the backyard, and Jesse nodded. Loud exclamations from the others greeted his arrival, and soon the splashing and yelling escalated again as Jesse joined them in the pool.

Carl was right; they deserved their fun tonight. These young men, barely out of high school, had volunteered to serve their country and now were headed straight into harm’s way. Trevor hurried into the backyard to search out Riley, who was standing in the shallow end of the pool with Jesse’s arm thrown over his shoulders.

They were laughing, so young, so carefree. Trevor traced his son’s face with his eyes, committing the happy moment to memory.

What would the year bring? Would Riley come home a totally changed man?

Of course he would. He was going to war.