Blue Skies (5 page)

Sydney smiled though she detected hurt in her mother’s voice. She also suspected that her Uncle Billy avoided the family for other reasons. Like he didn’t want to be around people who reminded him of his beloved brother—of what he lost.

“Well, we’re going have a great time shopping,” Sydney proclaimed though usually she found such outings a bore; but seeing how she had impulsively agreed to a date without having packed for such of an occasion, she needed to go.

“What we need to do is mark this day in history,” Steven said, coming out of her room. “You agreeing to date someone you haven’t performed a ten-point inspection on. It’s a miracle.

“A date?” Her mother perked and clapped her hands together. “I’m so...” She searched for a long time before coming up with the word, “proud.”

Her mother shook her head and then slid an arm around Sydney’s shoulders. “Well, I’m just saying that you—you know, you don’t go on too many of those. Dates, I mean.”

Sydney patiently folded her arms. “For your information, Afghanistan isn’t exactly a single’s hotspot.”

“Yes, yes. You’re right dear.” Bethany stole another hug. “I’m sorry, baby. C’mon on in here while I get ready and you can tell me all about your new boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yet, dear.” Her mother winked. “He’s not your boyfriend yet.”

“You mean he hasn’t been home in the last three days?” Jett asked, Mrs. Stewart, his father’s neighbor for twenty years. “Did you call the police or anyone?”

Mrs. Stewart twisted her weathered face in disapproval. “Now, Chile. I keep to myself. You know I make it a point not to stick my nose in anyone’s business.”

He nodded along with the lie in hopes she’d just spill the beans to why the house was trashed and his father M.I.A.

“Besides,” Mrs. Stewart went on. “The cops are tired of people always calling about Gerald. If he’s not stumbling drunk into other people’s yard in the middle of the night or trying to break into the wrong house, he’s dragging shady characters into the neighborhood.” She tsk’d under her breath. “Half dressed women and thugs that can’t kept their pants up.”

Jett scratched his head and drew in a deep breath. None of this information helped him figure out where to begin his search. When he’d first walked into the house, he likened the experience to what it must feel like to wander into the twilight zone.

Tables were overturned; furniture ripped to shreds, and almost every square inch of the place was covered in shattered glass. Did his father do it in a drunken rage--or had his father, once again, placed himself into something he couldn’t get out of?

“Okay, thanks, Mrs. Stewart.” He flashed a tight smile and turned away from her door.

“You know, I always thought you were the good one,” she said sadly. “You’re a good son, looking after your father the way you do.”

Jett glanced over his shoulder, feeling more than a little guilty for enjoying her praise.

“God willing, one of these days Gerald going to realize that.” She winked. “I hope you find him.”

He nodded and descended the porch steps.
Where to start?
Jett glanced at his watch. He had four hours to find his father before he was to meet Sydney at Hi-Life Café. “I can do this,” he coached himself and headed out to search the usual bars and hole in the walls his father hung out.

Sydney stared at her reflection in her old bedroom mirror and wondered for the umpteenth time why she’d selected the dress. She did like the color, a beautiful powder blue with a modest collar and short sleeves.

Her main concern was with the pencil skirt. She would have to take small steps and keep her knees glued together. However, she did like the way the shape gave the illusion of an hourglass figure.

“Mind if I come in now?” her mother questioned from the other side of the door.

Sydney drew a deep breath. “Sure. C’mon in.”

Her mother pushed open the door and immediately gasped at the sight of her. “You look gorgeous,” she commented as she swept into the room. “You’re positively radiant.”

“Thanks, mom.” She felt strange under the glowing praise. These mother and daughter moments were rare indeed considering Sydney usual wardrobe outside of her Air Force blues were jeans and a t-shirt.

Sydney turned back toward the mirror. “I was thinking about pining up my hair. What do you think?”

“No. No.” He mother fussed as she gave her curls a light pat. “You always wear it up. It looks so beautiful down.”

Sydney nodded but still fretted before her reflection. “You don’t think that I’m trying too hard.” She glanced over at her mother. “What if I’m over dressed?”

“Nonsense. You look perfect. So stop worrying.”

Sydney drew a deep breath to calm her nerves uncertain what made her so nervous. Jett was handsome—true; but it wasn’t like she hadn’t been around good-looking men. The Air Force was full of them. There were also no shortages of cocky hotshot pilots either.

So what is it?

She thought it over for a long moment while she smoothed her hand down her dress. Then it came to her. It was his eyes. A beautiful gold that twinkled when he smiled, but they held or maybe hid something else.

Sydney arrived at Hi-Life café at precisely eight o’clock. She was a little disappointed that her date was late, but she held onto her smile while the waitress showed her to her table.

However, eight o’clock came and went.

So did nine o’clock.

At two a.m. Jett found his father crumbled in the back alley of a hole in the wall bar nearly forty miles from home. Jett’s investigation with his father’s friends, co-workers, and AA buddies was worthy of a Columbo episode. He couldn’t believe it and it pained him to admit it to himself, but he was terrified he wouldn’t find his father. By the time Jett found him, he was exhausted.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Gerald croaked as Jett struggled to lift him up. “Where’s Xavier?”

Jett rolled his eyes at his father’s rancid breath. “He’s not here, Pop. Put your arm around my shoulder.”

Gerald did as his son instructed, but it didn’t stop his obsessive questions about his
favorite
son. To make matters worse when Jett finally placed his father in the car, he chose that time to empty the rest of his stomach’s contents.

“Just great,” Jett mumbled. He closed the passenger door and walked to the driver side, praying for strength. He drove back home with all four windows rolled down and his father fast asleep.

A calm came over him now that his father was safe. When they made it home, Jett struggled again to get his father out of the car and into the house. Getting the man showered and in bed was nothing less than a miracle.

“Sure, Pop.” Jett leaned over and placed a kiss against his father forehead. “Nite.” He turned and walked quietly out of the room.

After he collapsed in one of the uncluttered armchairs and he was finally able to relax, he remembered his date with Sydney. Jett bounced up and dug out his cell phone and the folded piece of paper with her name and number on it. He punched in the number and glanced at his watch. He groaned when he realized it was three thirty in the morning.

He wasn’t surprised when he was transferred to voice mail; but at the sound of the beep, he didn’t know what to say.

“Uh-hey, Sydney. It’s me-your very
very
late date. Um, I’m so sorry but, er, something sort of came up and I...well, I sort of forgot about our date and I...I know that sounds lame but I guess...well, I guess I wanted to apologize. If you could call me when you get this message I would love to explain everything to.” He paused and searched for something else to say, but came up empty. “Okay then. I look forward to hearing from you. Bye.”

Jett disconnected the phone and knew within his heart of hearts that Sydney Garrett was never going to call him back. “Goddamn it!”

On the brink of war...

Chapter 6

Tuesday July 4, 2006 00:41 –Atlanta, GA

Bethany Garrett woke from a deep sleep. For a few heartbeats she wasn’t sure of what had awakened her, but the telephone’s loud shrill caused her heart to leap with fear. No one called her house this time of night—unless there was something wrong.

Clicking on the lamplight, Bethany jerked up in bed ramrod straight, but she didn’t immediately pick up the receiver. It was almost as if she was momentarily paralyzed with fear. Was it about Steven? Sydney?

As much as she wanted to dismiss this sudden wave of paranoia, Bethany
knew
something was wrong.

Just before the call transferred to the answer machine, Bethany found the courage to pick up. However, lifting her arm to place the phone against her ear was a slow and arduous chore.

“Hello, mom? Are you there?”

Her entire body exploded with relief at the sound of her son’s voice. Maybe she
was
paranoid. “Steven.” She sighed and slouched back against the bed’s pillows. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Mom, have you seen the news?”

Bethany noted Steven’s agitation and—panic? “Well, no.” She glanced around the bed to see if she could spot the remote control to her bedroom’s television set.

As it has been since her husband’s death, the entire left side of the bed was a neat clutter of books, clothes, newspapers, and God knew whatever else. It was a psychological trick not to make the bed seem so empty and she knew it.

“Mom?”

“Yeah, wait. Hold on a second.” She spotted the remote atop her latest Michael Connelly novel and jabbed the power button. “It’s on, what am I looking for?” Fear crept into her voice.

“CNN,” came her son’s flat reply.

Bethany punched in the right channel and immediately sucked in breath when a newsman with a concrete expression stared at her through the television set. But it was the red letters to the right of his head that held her spellbound. North Korea’s blue and red flag had a one word question scrawled diagonally across it:
W-A-R?

“No,” she croaked. Her mind soared to the last image of Sydney waving goodbye at the glass doors of the Hartsfield-Jackson airport. Dressed in her military blues, Sydney took great pride in being the embodiment of an Air Force fighter pilot. In truth, every time Bethany saw her daughter, her heart broke. She’d never told Sydney this. She’d vowed to never confess her fear of answering her door to see the death angels of the military delivering bad news...again.

“No calls are getting through.” His own voice tumbled over flat notes of despair. The whole damn country is like it’s been wiped...” He drew a breath. “I’ve been calling different newspapers and news stations and they are all unable to confirm anything. A part of it may be the sixteen hour time difference here.”

Try as she might, Bethany tried to make sense out of what her son was saying or implying, but she couldn’t. She also didn’t want to analyze what the pain ebbing into her heart meant.

“I even tried calling the Pentagon.” Anguish seized control of Steven’s voice box and his words were punctuated with heart-wrenching sobs. “I-I have a few contacts and I-I-”

“What are they saying?” Bethany asked though she didn’t want to know. She wasn’t sure whether she could handle it.

“No one has been able to contact the Osan’s Air Force base.” Steven drew a deep breath and managed to garner some measure of control. “The only base in the region they’ve been able to contact is Kadena.”

“Maybe-probably. Initial reports are saying Kim Jong-il launched six missiles. A few fell into the Sea of Japan. It’s believed North Korea are finally going to deliver on its promise.”