Headed for Trouble

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Jules worked through the weekend, which wasn’t as lonely as it sounded, since Boston’s Bureau headquarters was a 24/7 kind of operation.

Besides, going in on a Sunday was a fair trade for having the following week off. And it was going to be an awesome week.

When Robin heard about Arlene and Maggie’s trip to Las Vegas, he immediately offered to charter a flight out of Logan. It wouldn’t cost him anything—he knew a guy who knew a guy, and the first guy owed Robin a major favor. That way, Will, Dolphina, Jules, and Robin could attend the wedding, too.

It wasn’t long before Arlene got over her shock at the idea of Robin using up a favor that big on her, and it became a Plan, with a capital P.

Jack’s son Luke was recovering from his appendectomy right on schedule—his appendix hadn’t ruptured after all, and he was healing nicely from his surgery. The news about the rupture was either a) a mistake or miscommunication from the boy’s understandably distraught mother made during a time of great stress, or b) an intentional exaggeration spun to send Jack catapulting across the country at warp speed to his son’s hospital bedside, where his ex-wife would also conveniently be waiting and ready to provide comfort of all varieties. Depending upon whether or not Maggie was reporting the incident.

Arlene was decidedly more understanding. It was also obvious that she trusted Jack completely, even while he was in the company of a potentially crazy ex-wife.

But the real good news remained the fact that Luke was feeling much better, and that Jack could and would meet them in Vegas on Monday night.

They’d leave Boston on Monday afternoon, after Maggie got her homework assignments from school, fly in, find an all-night chapel for Arlene and Jack to tie the knot, and then bunk at the Bellagio where Robin had a standing invitation to stay whenever he was in town. In fact, all it took was one phone call, and the manager immediately reserved a three-bedroom presidential suite for Robin, as well as a more private honeymoon suite for the happy couple. All of it was on the house, because Robin was just that lovable and charming.

Part B of the Plan was that Will and Dolphina would bring Maggie back to Boston on Tuesday while the newlyweds spent an extra few days in the desert city, no doubt locked together in their room.

Jules would accompany Robin to … wherever it was that the Sundance Channel held its impending annual award show. Jules wasn’t sure if it was L.A., or maybe somewhere in the Rocky Mountains. It didn’t really matter where they went—it was going to be fun.

Of course, Robin could make a trip downtown to pick up the dry cleaning into something wildly entertaining.

Jules’s phone rang—his direct line—and he picked it up. It was probably Robin, but he kept his greeting professional. “Cassidy.” Besides, he knew that his husband found what he called Jules’s “FBI agent mode” to be hot.

But it wasn’t Robin on the other end. “Jules? It’s Maggie.”

It was Maggie. That was weird. How had she gotten this number?

“Wow,” Jules said, unable to hide his surprise. “Yes, it’s me. Hey, Mags. What’s up?”

“My mother has to go back early,” she said in a voice that was way too tight.

“What?” Jules said, immediately reaching for the remote to turn on the TV in his office. He didn’t need to ask where. He knew what she meant.

Back to Iraq.

But the TV flickered on, and he quickly clicked through the various news channels, but they were showing nothing special. No breaking stories, no special reports, no relentless what-if-ing over pictures of some devastation or disaster.

“It’s not fair,” Maggie said, and he could tell she was fighting tears. “She was supposed to have a full month. This is bullshit.”

“What happened?” Jules asked, as he went online to check Twitter. Often news came through via the Internet first. But Twitter was quiet, too.

“It’s stupid,” Maggie told him fiercely. “There was some stupid car accident, and everyone’s okay, but one of the NCOs broke her legs and the other one hurt his back, and the really stupid part is that in the entire stupid Army, there’s apparently no one else who can do my mom’s job and—” She broke off as Jules heard the murmur of another voice. “I’m talking to Jules and … Wait! Mom!”

But the phone was apparently snatched out of the girl’s hands by her mother. “I am so sorry,” Arlene said, her voice thick with her apology. “She shouldn’t have called you. This is completely inappropriate—”

“It’s okay,” Jules said.

“No,” Arlene said. “It is not.”

He could hear Maggie in the background. “I was just calling him to see if he could give us a ride to the airport, so at least I can have an extra half hour with you instead of having a stupid taxi pick you up!”

“Oh, shit,” Jules realized. “Will and Dolphina went to New York.” One of Dolphina’s many cousins was getting married in a little town just south of Buffalo called Hamburg.

“They must’ve turned off their phones for the ceremony,” Arlene told him. “And even if they turn them on right away, they won’t get back here until tonight.”

“I’ll drive you to the airport,” Jules volunteered. “Because Maggie’s right. That way she can go, too, and be with you for as long as she possibly can.”

“Thank you,” Arlene said. “It’s too much, but … Thank you.”

“It’s not too much,” Jules countered. “Maggie’s my friend. You’re my friend. Friends call friends when they need help.”

“When have you ever called anyone for help?” Arlene asked.

Jules laughed. “Oh, sweetie, you have no idea. Remind me to tell you about the time I was on this godforsaken island in the middle of nowhere, and I actually called … certain friends in very high places for some serious help. But let’s not get into it now. It’s not a story that works well in short form, plus I’d rather find out what’s going on with you. There’s really no one else in the entire U.S. Army who can do your job for a few more weeks, until your leave is up?”

Arlene sighed. “Of course there is. But unit cohesion suffers when new faces are brought in. And when unit cohesion suffers, soldiers—kids—die. I can’t—” Her voice broke, but she faltered only slightly before soldiering on. “I can’t let that happen. My CO called me directly and asked me to return early. In exchange, she’s going to try to see what she can do to get me home for good, as soon as possible.”

Jules could hear Maggie clearly in the background. “How could you believe anything any of them tells you?”

“I have to go,” Arlene spoke over the girl. “If only to help them through the transition.” She sighed heavily again. “It’s particularly important because everyone’s favorite first lieutenant was killed in the same car accident. God, Maggie’s right about it being incredibly stupid. Despite all of the snipers and IEDs, Kevin died because a contractor in a semi got stung by some kind of wasp or a bee, and he swerved into oncoming traffic.”

“I’m so sorry for the loss of your friend,” Jules murmured. “And yeah, it can seem ridiculous. And even arbitrary. A car accident in a war zone …?”

He heard Maggie say something, but this time her words were indiscernible. It was clear, though, that she had started to cry.

“I have to go back, Mag,” Arlene told her daughter again. “I wish I didn’t have to. I wish I could say no …”

“Have you told Jack?” Jules asked quietly.

“Yeah. He ran to the airport, to try to get a flight back to Boston. I don’t know if he got one, because his phone died en route, and … He’s not going to make it anyway, because my flight’s at five-thirty.”

“Tonight?” Jules asked, his voice betraying his surprise.

“Yes, tonight.” Arlene was a little annoyed. “Didn’t Will tell me you work with Navy SEALs? They get a call and they go. Immediately. They don’t get any time at all to pack or say goodbye.”

“Last time I checked, Arlene,” Jules said evenly, “you weren’t a Navy SEAL.”

She laughed, just a little. “I know. And I’m sorry. I’m just …”

“I get it,” Jules said. “Caught between Iraq and a hard place. Let me talk to Maggie again.”

The girl was sniffling as she got back on the phone. “I didn’t know that Kevin died.”

“I think your mom probably didn’t tell you that on purpose,” Jules told her. “Look, Mags, here’s what I’m going to do, okay? I’m going to pick you and your mother up at around three.”

“That’s way too early,” Maggie protested.

“No, because we’ll park, and we’ll go inside, all the way to the gate, with her,” Jules said. “I have a pass that’ll get us into the airport, but you’re going to have to go through security, so travel light, okay? Don’t bring a jackknife or—”

“I’ve flown on a plane before, Jules,” Maggie said in a prickly tone that was so nearly identical to her mother’s that it was almost funny. Almost.

“Well, good,” Jules said. “And don’t tell your mom, because I might not be able to get it to happen, but I’ll make a few calls, see if we can’t find out if Jack’s a passenger on a Boston-bound flight. Between you and me, I suspect he’s already in the air. It’s hard to imagine Jack Lloyd being thwarted by dead cell phone batteries.”

She laughed at that, but it sounded watery.

“Anyway, do tell your mom this,” Jules said. “After she boards her flight, I’ll take you home and you can hang with Robin. And if she doesn’t get in touch with your uncle Will, you are completely welcome to stay with us tonight, or really, as long as you need to.”

“Thank you,” Maggie said.

“See you in a few hours,” Jules told her, but she was silent. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, and he could picture her squaring her narrow shoulders and lifting her chin. “I guess I gotta go help my mom pack.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The afternoon was a blur.

When Maggie went into the bathroom to take a shower, Arlene used her daughter’s phone to call Lizzie’s cell, but got bumped to voice mail. So she called the number in Maggie’s contact list for Milton, Mike.

Lizzie’s scary older brother.

Who picked up immediately. “Maggie? Is everything all right? Are you okay?”

“No,” Arlene said, but then quickly said, “Yes. I mean, no, it’s not Maggie, and Maggie’s okay, but …” She quickly explained how she’d first tried calling Lizzie, and then what had happened and how she was going back to Iraq.

He listened quietly, but she heard him sigh.

“I was hoping you could get word to Lizzie,” Arlene said, “and then, maybe, both make a point to be somewhere close by for the next few days?”

“Of course,” he said. “Look, I know how hard this must be for you, and I know you don’t trust me and that dinner you planned was really so that you could interrogate me—”

“She’s thirteen,” Arlene said.

“You think I don’t know that?”

“I think it’ll be easy for you to forget.”

“I won’t,” he said. “I gave you my word.”

“And I’m holding you to it,” Arlene said. “Right now, she needs Lizzie. She needs to feel safe when she’s with Lizzie.”

“I get it,” he said. “I do. And look, I know you have email over there, so why don’t you email me.” He rattled off a gmail address that included his name and the number of his street address—easy enough to remember. “You can ask me anything or check up on me or … whatever.”

“Thank you,” Arlene said. “I will.”

“I’d do anything for Maggie,” he said. “And Lizzie really loves her, too. We got your back, Ms. Schroeder. We’ll be there for her. Come what may. Shit.” He laughed his disgust. “Excuse me. But I knew that Moulin Rouge was going to somehow come back and bite me on the ass. Maggie and Lizzie watched it, like, twice a week, for about four months. Which of course meant that if I wanted to use the computer, I had to watch it, too. Freaking Ewan McGregor …”

From the bathroom, Arlene heard the sound of the shower going off. “Thank you. Again,” she said.

“Stay alert out there,” he said, adding right before he cut their connection. “Be safe.”

Arlene set Maggie’s phone on the end table next to the sofa, near where her bags were packed and ready to go.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror that hung next to the front door. Dressed in her BDUs, her pants tucked into the top of her boots, her jacket buttoned to her chin, with her hair tied neatly back, no makeup on her face …

She was ready for war.

As she gazed into her own eyes, they welled with tears. And for those few brief moments, before Maggie emerged from the bathroom, Arlene allowed herself to acknowledge the dreadful fact—a terrible possibility—that this might be it for her.

When she said goodbye to her daughter at the airport, it might be for the very last time.

She might never come home again.

But there were tens of thousands of servicemen and -women out there, just like her, who had said goodbye to their sons and daughters, their husbands and wives, their mothers and fathers and families, uncertain as to their own futures. That was always the case when one served one’s country.

And until she came home safely—and even if, God forbid, she didn’t—she would carry her love for Maggie and Jack and Will and, yes, even Dolphina with her, wherever she went, securely in her heart.

Arlene squared her shoulders and quickly brushed her tears away as the bathroom door opened. She even managed to smile at Maggie, whose own eyes were red.

“Ready?” she asked her daughter, who nodded.

Maggie hefted the larger of Arlene’s bags, and together, they went out to the street, to wait for Jules.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Jack sat clutching the armrests in the airplane as it touched down at Logan Airport in Boston.

It was five minutes after five, and Arlene’s flight was scheduled to leave in twenty-five minutes—if it hadn’t already left early.

He was sitting in the back of the plane, which meant the entire full flight would have to empty before he could start his sprint through the terminal.

He knew that Arlene was flying out through World Airlines. She was taking a flight to New York City, where she’d transfer to another that would go first to Germany.

As the plane taxied to the gate, the intercom clicked on, and Jack focused, hoping to hear which gate that New York flight would be leaving from. But instead, the pilot spoke. “Ladies and gentlemen welcome to Boston where the temperature is a balmy sixty-four degrees. Please remain seated until we get to the gate. And even then, once we arrive, please remain seated and leave the aisle clear until passenger Jack Lloyd deplanes. See, his fiancée is shipping out to Iraq, and if he hurries to gate forty-two, he’ll have just enough time to kiss her goodbye.”

There was a murmur among the passengers, as Jack closed his eyes and blessed Jules Cassidy—this had the FBI agent’s name written all over it.

But then the plane was at the gate, and his seat belt was off and he was on his feet. As he dashed up the aisle, someone began to clap, and the whole plane was applauding like some ridiculous Hollywood romantic comedy.

The flight attendants were smiling at him, and then he was through the door and running full speed up the ramp.