Enemy Mine (2 page)

“Mom?” Kathy’s husky voice cut through the noontime buzz of insects and the songs of birds.

Instantly, Laura jerked upright, a bunch of weeds in her right hand as she whirled around.

“Kathy! Honey, what are you doing here?” She smiled widely and hurried across the garden.

“I thought I’d drop in without warning. I wanted to surprise you….”

“Well,” Laura laughed breathlessly, coming up the steps onto the back stoop, “you sure did!” Holding out her arms, she hugged her tall, lean daughter. “Oh! It’s so good to see you, Pet!”

Kathy wrapped her arms around her mother and pressed her face into her loose, sun-warmed hair. Pet. That was what her parents had always called her. The
nickname was short for Petunia, a flower Kathy had loved to pick as a little girl, sucking out the sweet honey. Laura had showed her how to do that when she was three years old, and Kathy had gone on a hunt to find every blooming petunia she could, to steal its sweetness. The story had become a family legend and her relatives often reminded her how every year she would find a way to pluck every single flower until there were none left in Laura’s garden.

After giving her mother a gentle squeeze, Kathy released her. “I’ve got about five days before I go on a new assignment, and I thought I’d see you all before I left. Normally, I get thirty days of leave, but this OPs has allowed me less time than usual.”

Laura dropped the weeds into a nearby can and pushed a strand of hair from her face. “I’m glad you have. Are you hungry? I haven’t eaten lunch yet. It’s been so hot here, nearly a hundred last week. I thought I’d make a pot of gazpacho soup and chill it for dinner. Want some now? It’s just done.”

Opening the door, Kathy followed her mother into the service porch, where she shed her garden shoes and padded barefoot across the gleaming reddish-gold cedar floor. “Yeah, I took a whiff of it before I came out here. I’d love a bowl.”

Looking over her shoulder, Laura smiled. “You bet. Come on, let’s get some and go sit out on the front porch. There’s a bit of breeze out there and I need to cool down.” She grinned and wiped her perspiring forehead with the back of her dirt-stained glove.

Kathy nodded and followed. Her mother was a true
child of nature. If Laura didn’t have to wear shoes or socks or nylons, she didn’t, but went barefoot. She went braless whenever possible, as well. Kathy liked that streak of wild woman in her mother. She’d acquired that trait, too. Big time. They called her “Amazon” in her squadron, and she’d earned the handle.

In the kitchen, Kathy brought down the white china soup bowls while her mother took the lid off the pot and set it aside.

“So, you’re on a new assignment? South America again? More insertion and extraction stuff?”

“Yeah,” Kathy said, setting the bowls next to the stove. That was what she did: insert Navy SEAL and Marine Recon teams into hotspots in South America, hang around in the jungle, then pick them up at a specific time and place, after they’d done their damage. The work was interesting to Kathy. She liked the element of danger that always went with the missions. They never went anywhere quiet or safe. Truth be known, she grooved on the edginess of those ops. More than a few bullets had creased the fuselage of her Seahawk, although she kept that knowledge to herself because she didn’t want her parents to worry about her.

Laura filled the first bowl. Kathy didn’t want to lie to her mother, or at least lie as little as possible, so she didn’t go into detail about this new mission. She just let her mom think it was the same type assignment as before. She wouldn’t divulge her true intentions, unless pushed beyond her limit. She knew her father would want to know everything, and that was going to be tricky ground to tread with him.

Chuckling, Laura pulled out a loaf of freshly made sourdough bread from the refrigerator, as well as the butter dish. “Talk about new assignments. You know what my summer mission is?”

Kathy slathered butter on thick slices of bread. “No, what?” Her heart expanded. Just being with her mother lifted her spirits. Laura’s large, intelligent blue eyes shone with happiness. Kathy wished she could feel that elation. How many years had it taken her mom to finally climb out of the hell she’d suffered and get to this point? Two decades. Two decades of her precious life lost to those bastards. Kathy’s anger began to kick up again and she had to fight to shove it way down inside her.

“Well, since the birth of little Alexander Morgan Trayhern to Jason and Annie, I got to thinking that this family has photo albums, but the children, individually, don’t have one. Do you realize their little one is one-and-a-half years old already? Gosh, time flies by!” She beamed and handed Kathy her soup, and then two buttered slices of sourdough. “I’ve just gotten Jason’s photo album finished and I’m almost through yours. It was going to be a Christmas gift to each of you. Rachel, Morgan’s mother, had given each of her children an album, and I’m using hers as a template for all of yours. Come on, let’s go sit in the porch swing and eat.”

They didn’t rock much in the swing as they supped their lukewarm soup. That was okay with Kathy. She loved moments like this with her mother, remembering how much Laura loved rocking chairs in general, and that almost every chair in their home rocked. Bread on
one knee, the soup bowl in her left hand, Kathy spooned the thick, tasty gazpacho into her mouth.

Between sips, she said to her mother, “You took an awful lot of photos of us growing up. There’s gotta be a godzillion to choose from. You aren’t putting
every
photo in our albums, are you?” Hers would weigh forty pounds. Even now, every time she turned around, her mom had a camera in her hand. Perhaps this project meant so much to her because she had never known her own parents, had never had photos of herself growing up.

“Heavens, no!” Laura chortled. “I’ve been choosy!” She set her soup dish on a wooden table next to the swing. “But I spent January through March chronicling your life up to this point, like a life line.”

“Oh…” Kathy frowned and swallowed the bite of bread she’d been chewing. It jammed in her throat. “Then you’re including the…kidnapping?” Even the word stuck in her throat. No longer hungry, Kathy dropped the rest of her bread into her empty soup bowl on the table. Silently berating herself for sounding so emotional, she stole a quick look at her mother.

Laura’s dark blue eyes were warm with love as she reached out and settled her hand on her daughter’s thigh. “Pet, life is made up of happy moments and sad ones. I gave that a lot of thought, but you know what? The kidnapping is a part of our family saga now. It’s history in a way. Not happy history, certainly, but it happened to us and affected
all
of us. I think I would be less than honest if I avoided that part of your life, don’t you?”

Her mother’s softly spoken words sent an ache through her. Kathy leaned back, closed her eyes and
rested her head against the striped green-and-white cushion. When Laura removed her hand, Kathy whispered, “I guess….”

“Honey, I’m forty-seven years old and you’re half my age. I’ve found that with time—and greater perspective—the horrible times evolve and take on a different aspect. If you don’t want me to include those years, I won’t.”

Opening her eyes, Kathy rolled her head to the right and gazed at her mother, who looked young and untouched by life. Oh, Laura had lines around her mouth and a few across her brow, but other than that, she looked so vibrant and alive. Kathy herself felt raw inside. She had since the kidnapping. And at the same time, she felt like a robot, going through the motions of living, but never connecting fully with the passion of life. Since the kidnapping, she’d felt empty and devoid of emotions. Thanks to the Garcias.

But she would get even. She would hurt Carlos Garcia as much as his father had hurt her entire family. Kathy knew she’d be successful but felt due to tight security around Carlos Garcia that she’d be shot in the aftermath.

“Pet?”

“What? Oh, I’m sorry. I want you to be happy, Mom. You’ve always been creative and I wouldn’t dream of telling you how to do something like this.” Kathy forced a smile she didn’t feel. “Besides, this is
your
project. Your passion. I don’t want to be a wet blanket.”
Liar.
Oh, God, she
was
lying, and it hurt her in a way she hadn’t expected. Kathy absently rubbed her chest as if to ease the ache in her heart.

This wasn’t going to be easy at all. What made her think it would be? Maybe she’d hoped for an effortless goodbye, but now that she was home, everything was sharply poignant. And hurting her inside because this was the last time she’d be here. No more hearing her mother laugh. Or seeing that mischievous sparkle in her blue eyes. Or smelling the pine. Or inhaling the odor of the leather couches and chairs in the living room. So many little things that suddenly meant a lot to Kathy…

“Are you
sure?
” Laura dug into her daughter’s sky-blue eyes. She must have seen the dark shadows there as Kathy lowered her lashes.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m sure.” Again, Kathy forced herself to play a part she hated. “In fact, I’d be unhappy about it. You’re right—life has lots of ups and downs.”
Life and death.
Her death, shortly. She suddenly felt a pang of anxiety. And a wave of grief that nearly was her undoing. Yet no matter how she felt, her need for revenge against Guillermo Garcia’s son and his family overrode it. The anticipation of vengeance soothed some of her panic.

“Good! Listen, we need to call Jason and Annie. I’ll invite them down for supper tonight. You must see little Alex! He’s so cute, learning to walk! And such an adorable, loving child. But Jas and Annie are like that, so why shouldn’t their baby be, too? Have you seen your father yet? Does he know you’re here?”

“Uh, no. I drove straight here, Mom.”

“Pete and Kelly just graduated from the Naval Academy, as you know. We were so proud of them, Pet. I wish you could have been at the ceremony.”

“Me, too,” Kathy murmured. Her younger sister and
brother, fraternal twins and twenty-two years old, had graduated from the Naval Academy less than two weeks ago. She’d still been on her black ops assignment in Colombia and unable to attend.

“Well, the good news is they are supposed to be here tomorrow! They’re both taking their thirty-day leaves with us! Oh, this is so wonderful! The
whole
family is going to be home.”

When Kathy saw tears begin to shimmer in her mother’s eyes, she felt the merciless grip of an icy fist around her heart. Laura loved her children so deeply and unabashedly. Kathy would miss that. Horribly.

Laura lived to make their lives better than her own had been. She wanted them to know that a
real
family was supportive through thick and thin. Bowing her head, Kathy forced back hot tears that pricked at her eyes. Pretending to be hungry she cleared her throat, and picked up her slice of bread and took a bite.

“That’s great, Mom,” she said when she’d managed to swallow it. “The whole gang will be here. Like old times.”

Clasping her hands, Laura sighed and smiled, her gaze on the fluffy white clouds floating above the canopy of firs in front of their home. Along the white picket fence grew smiling white Shasta daisies with yellow centers, fragrant clumps of lavender and bright red-and-yellow gallardia waving in the breeze. The flowers reflected Laura in every way. “Never in my wildest dreams did I think you could be here for this, Pet. Now everything is
perfect.
Perfect! Morgan is going to be thrilled to death!”

Sitting there with her mother, pushing the swing idly back and forth with one toe, Kathy nodded and choked down the rest of the bread without tasting it. She had a fierce, uncompromising love for her brothers and sisters; they all got along, unlike many other families, with their war stories of sibling rivalry. Not so with the Trayherns. Their bonds were strong and resilient. What ate at her was that she had to stick to her lie with all of them. She’d never lied to anyone before. Kathy drew a silent breath. She knew she was all screwed up inside, thanks to the kidnapping….

Gazing upward, she watched the clouds drift overhead, casting a cooling shadow across the front of the house. What was wrong with
this
picture? She laughed inwardly, but it wasn’t a cheery laugh; it was one filled with derision—and hatred toward Guillermo Garcia. One way or another, Kathy was going to make his family pay the same heavy price that hers had paid for the act of terror he had waged against them.

K
ATHY TRIED TO STEEL
herself for her father’s return from his office. She was helping her mother set the table in the dining room when she heard the screen door open and shut. It was 5:00 p.m., and unless all hell was breaking loose on a mission, her father quit at that time. Tonight must be one of those rare, quiet nights.

As she laid each shining white china plate on the reddish-gold cedar table, she mused over how her father had changed his work schedule since the kidnapping. Before that he had worked until all hours, sometimes coming home long after she was in bed, sound asleep. Kathy recalled having an absentee father before the kidnapping. After that, Morgan’s attitude and focus had changed dramatically in favor of the family.

“I’m home!” he called, dropping his briefcase in his home office and making his way to the kitchen. He sniffed appreciatively as he peeked into the room, but saw no one.

“We’re in the dining room, dear,” Laura called, “and you’ll never believe who’s come home?”

Raising his brows, Morgan halted at the entrance to the spacious room. “Kathy?”

It took everything she had to force a smile she didn’t feel. Standing at the end of the table, she struggled with unexpected grief and couldn’t find her breath for a moment. “Hi, Dad,” she whispered and nervously placed the plate on the red woven placemat. Moving around the table, she lifted her arms upward in genuine welcome. Though choking back a tidal wave of emotion, Kathy sank into her father’s hug. She knew this visit would be the last time she would see him. Her heart contracted violently with raw, overwhelming pain. She pressed her cheek against the gray pinstripe woolen fabric of his suit and felt her father’s arms tighten gently around her waist.

Since the kidnapping, Morgan had been far more effusive about showing how he felt toward his children, and Kathy hungrily absorbed his embrace and the kiss he placed on her hair. She didn’t want the hug to end, but felt his arms slipping away—just as she would slip away from him forever.

“What a nice surprise,” Morgan declared, easing her away from him, his hands sliding down to cup her elbows. “It’s wonderful to see you! Why didn’t you let us know you’d be dropping in for a visit?”

After squeezing her father’s hands, Kathy stepped away. “I’m going on an unexpected black ops assignment in seven days so I begged my commander to give me five days leave. He did, and that’s why I came home.”

Morgan Trayhern was a living legend in the military and spy community. Tall, proud, strong, to Kathy he symbolized everything noble about their family’s military heritage. The vertical scar that ran from his temple to his chin on the right side of his face reminded every
one of the price he’d paid during the Vietnam War when he was a captain in the U.S. Marine Corps.

Brows dipping, Morgan removed his suit coat, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the shirt at his throat. “Oh? A new mission so soon after the last one? That’s unusual.” He hung the suit coat over the back of a chair at the dinner table. Laura stopped and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He smiled at his wife and touched the small of her back as she moved quickly back toward the kitchen.

As her mother left them alone for a few moments, Kathy reminded herself to be careful with her father. Morgan knew intimately how the military worked. The very fact that she was going on this mission so soon after the last would raise red flags for him. Her father had Q clearance, which meant he knew most of the secret missions going on within the government. But not all of them. Not hers.

As he pulled his dark blue tie from around his neck, he watched her. She knew what he was thinking: why hadn’t the mission ops commander let him know what was happening with one of his children? They always had before. It was an unspoken rule between Morgan and those who worked with his kids. He had enough clout behind the scenes to get that kind of info. His children might be adults, but they were in the military, Morgan’s turf. And Kathy knew without a doubt her dad kept a keen eye on all their missions and assignments. In one way, this knowledge was a comfort. This time it wasn’t. If he got wind of what she was going to do, he’d scuttle the mission and all hell would break loose.

“Yeah, black ops…I can’t talk about it, Dad. You know how it is.”

Morgan scowled and picked up his suit coat again, draping it across his arm. With his tie in hand, he said, “Let’s talk about this over supper, shall we? I’m going upstairs to change. Be down in a little bit.”

Quelling the butterflies in her stomach, Kathy said in a far more confident voice than she felt, “No problem, Dad.” She went back to setting the table.

Just then Kamaria, the fifth Trayhern child, now four years old, came running breathlessly in from the backyard. She had been adopted when she was less than a year old by Laura and Morgan. After a terrifying earthquake in Los Angeles, a team of marines had found her trapped beside her dead mother in a collapsed apartment complex. Kamaria, an African name, meant ‘beautiful like the moon,’ was tall and skinny for her age.

“Kat!” she called from the entrance. “Come quick! I found a
huge worm
on Mommy’s cabbage! Quick! Hurry before it leaves!”

Grinning, Kathy was relieved to escape. She silently thanked her little sister as she placed the last of the flatware on the table and turned to Kamaria. The little girl’s long black hair was gathered into haphazard pigtails on each side of her head. Wearing dark green cotton coveralls and a pink tank top, she stood restlessly, her blue-gray eyes shining with excitement.

“If Mom catches you in here with those muddy shoes, Kammie…”

“Ohhh, I know! Hurry, Kathy!” She quickly glanced around the edge of the dining room door as if to see if
Laura was in sight. Then, grabbing her older sister’s hand, she yanked on it eagerly and dived for the rear screen door.

Laughing softly, Kathy allowed her baby sister to haul her along like a piece of heavy cargo. Once out the back door, they bounded down the steps and across the lawn to the garden.

“Hurry! She was movin’ fast! I wanna know what it is! I don’t wanna lose her!” Kammie released Kathy’s hand, ran to the gate and quickly opened it. The garden, nearly an acre in size, was enclosed by an eight-foot-tall fence, so that deer couldn’t jump it and eat the vegetables.

Kathy shut the gate behind them and watched Kammie race along the long row of cabbages. Halfway down, the girl bent over, her butt in the air like that of an ostrich sticking its head in the sand. There was a milkweed sticking up between the cabbage. Laughing to herself, Kathy followed, careful not to muddy her tennis shoes.

“Oh! Here she is! Here’s the worm!” Kammie hunkered down on her knees in the mud. With her short, thin fingers she deftly curled back the milkweed leaf. “Look! What is it?”

Kathy came and squatted down between the cabbages. She took delight at her sister’s joy and awe. Looking down between Kammie’s muddy fingers, she saw a fat black-white-and-yellow-striped caterpillar inching along. “Hmm, looks like a caterpillar to me, Kammie.” She smiled into her sister’s wide eyes. “If you keep it in a jar and let it eat some milkweed leaves, it will spin a cocoon sooner or later.”

“Yeah? And then what? What will happen?” Kammie watched the caterpillar progress across the leaf, heading toward her fingers. As if to muster courage, the child sucked in her breath when the creature stopped and daintily tested her fingertip.

“Magic will happen. It will turn from a worm into a beautiful Monarch butterfly, Kammie,” Kathy murmured, watching the wonder in her sister’s shining eyes as the caterpillar touched the girl’s fingers. It must have decided that they weren’t a tasty leaf, for it turned around and wriggled across the cabbage.

“Oh, oh! She felt so soft, Kathy!” Kammie gasped, looking up at her sister. “She touched me! It didn’t hurt! That was cool!”

“Most caterpillars don’t bite.” Kathy ruffled Kammie’s hair. “Do you want to keep it and watch it turn into a butterfly?”

“Yeah! Oh, yeah!”

“Then pull off several milkweed leaves—carefully—and bring it to the garage. I’ll find you a jar big enough for it to live in. All it will do is eat and eat and eat until it’s ready to spin its cocoon. You’ll have to poke holes in the lid so the caterpillar can breathe. It has to have air, Kammie, just like you and me. And you’ll have to feed it a fresh leaf every day until it spins its cocoon.”

Kammie’s brows squeezed together as she leaned over and very carefully tore a leaf off the milkweed then held it steady until the caterpillar crawled onto it. With Kathy’s help, she got to her feet. “Wow, this is so cool! I’m going to name her Pretty! She’s so pretty!”

Chuckling, Kathy steered Kamaria ahead of her, and
together they walked back to the gate. “Let’s get to the garage. You can tell Mom that you’ve pulled a dastardly weed out of her garden.”

“W
HERE ARE THE GIRLS
?” Laura asked as she put the bowl of salad greens on the table.

Morgan brought in the sourdough bread, which sat on a pine cutting board. “I never saw Kamaria. Kathy was here setting the table earlier.” He looked out the large picture window at the backyard and garden.

“Kammie just got home from vacation Bible school a few minutes ago. She ran upstairs and changed and was supposed to be pulling her ten minutes’ worth of weeds a day out in the garden.”

“Nobody in sight,” Morgan murmured. “They’re up to something. I can feel it.” He walked back to the kitchen with his wife, who frowned at him. After slicing the roast beef, he followed Laura back out to the dining room. She placed a bowl of gravy near the platter of meat.

“Hmm, you’re right. Those two are up to something,” Laura said with a shake of her head. “I’ll get the veggies. Why don’t you go down to the garage? I got a feeling they’re in there.”

“One of your hunches?” Morgan teased.

“Yep. Hot fudge sundae says I’m right.”

Grinning, Morgan held up his hands. “I learned a long time ago that your instincts are always right.”

Giving him an I-told-you-so smile, Laura chuckled. “Darn, I just missed out on a hot fudge sundae. Just make sure Kamaria is
not
wearing muddy shoes or clothes at the dinner table, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” he promised.

Morgan found them in the garage, giggling, their heads bent together over a jar. They were busy doing something. What, he wasn’t sure. The main door was open to allow in the breeze. Kathy was just handing Kamaria a gallonsize, wide-mouth glass jar when he arrived.

“Okay, caught you red-handed,” Morgan called.

“Daddy, look!” Kamaria ran across the concrete to where he stood. “It’s a butterfly! Well, it will be,” she said breathlessly, lifting the huge jar up for her father to see.

Morgan took the container and saw the caterpillar happily munching on leaves. “My, my, Kammie. You’ve got a real nice caterpillar in there, and it’s a weed, I see.” He squatted down to Kammie’s eye level. He loved his adopted daughter fiercely. If anything, she had breathed new life into him.

He glanced up and saw Kathy leaning against the wooden jigsaw bench, arms crossed and a grin hovering on her lips. Pain struck at Morgan. He’d never played with Kathy as he did with Kamaria. At that stage in his life, he had been an absentee parent. Unfortunately, Jason and Kathy had been his training-wheels children—the ones who bore the brunt of his mistakes. Pete and Kelly, their fraternal twins, had had it easier, and now smiling Kamaria, her blue-gray eyes bright with delight, would be blessed with all his experience. He wouldn’t hurt her as he’d hurt them.

“She’s got a new friend,” Kathy said, easing away from the bench. “I think it’s a monarch caterpillar, but I can’t be sure.” For her, there was a painful synchro
nicity in Kammie’s finding the caterpillar. Kathy believed in symbolism and fate. Butterflies were significant to her because they meant transformation. The caterpillar would live for a while in a rigid cocoon, a prisoner within. Hadn’t she been a prisoner in this whole kidnapping tragedy? Guilt and revenge had been her lifelong cocoon. Like the butterfly, she was going to morph and change, fueled by the power of her desire to get even. Yes, this butterfly-to-be was just like her. Pretty soon, she was going to change from Kathy Trayhern into an impostor. She would go undercover and become something else—a beautiful, deadly butterfly who could extract her revenge and balance the scales so that her family could finally be free.

Morgan gave his oldest daughter a look of pride. “By golly, I think you’re right, Pet.” She was a Marine Corps aviator, a Seahawk helicopter pilot and every inch a proud, confident woman in his eyes, but he still called her Pet. He always would. Kathy was the spitting image of Laura, his wife, except she was taller and larger boned. She had her mother’s blue eyes and was just as beautiful.

“Daddy, can I keep Pretty? Kat says she has to stay in my room, out of the sunlight. I have to feed her a new milkweed leaf a day until she spins her cocoon.”

Morgan carefully handed the jar back to his excited little daughter. “I don’t think Mommy is going to be real happy to hear you’re going to pull milkweeds from her garden.”

“Aww, Daddy, it’s only
one
leaf.” Kammie tilted her head and pouted. She wrapped her arms around the jar and stood there, pleading silently.

Chuckling, Kathy came over and patted Kammie’s small shoulders. “Let’s convince her over dinner, okay?”

“First,” Morgan said, raising an eyebrow at his youngest, “I think you’d better head up to your room and change. Your knees and shoes are muddy. Mommy won’t be happy to see you arrive dirty at the dinner table. Okay?”

“Oh.” Kamaria laughed after looking down and examining herself. “Okay! I’ll be right down!” She whirled around with her jar, ran across the garage and flew up the steps into the house.

“Boy,” Morgan said, straightening up to his full height and brushing off his jeans, “I sure wish I had one-fourth of her energy.”

“You did,” Kathy said, following him into the house, “when you were her age.”

Morgan chuckled. Within minutes, everyone had sat down at the dinner table.