Shatter (19 page)

He gripped the top of his chair to get himself to the target and not fall on his ass in the middle of the aisle. Christ, she looked edible. Completely, scrumptiously,
edible
.

He dropped into the chair and Dex nudged his nose under Mitch’s hand to be petted. He scratched the dog’s ears absently. Wasn’t he mad at her? Didn’t he want to ask her something important? Couldn’t he just forgo all that and pull her into his lap?

“Buckle up,” Christy called. “We’ll be in Reno in five.”

Reno. Thirty miles from Alyssa’s house. And the team. And meeting his new nephew for the first time.

Mitch’s mind came back online. “Halina.”

She looked up, her gaze distant and exhausted.

“The files on Classified Chemical that were in my office,” he said. “In a brown—”

“File box,” she finished. “What about them?”

Mitch licked his lips, tightened his gut and asked, “What did you do with them?”

Her brow tightened. Her crystal gaze went distant again. “I . . .”

He waited as long as he could stand, probably not more than a few milliseconds. “Did you destroy them? Throw them away? Shred them?”

“No. I just . . . hid them.” Her confused eyes focused on his face. “I hid them in your apartment.”

Mitch leaned on the table, his mind envisioning the apartment, every crevice, every closet, and he shook his head. “They weren’t there. When I moved out, I cleaned that place top to bottom myself. They weren’t there and they weren’t with the things I moved.”

“That’s because I hid them underneath the sink.”

Again he shook his head. “No, I cleaned—”

“Beneath the loose floorboards under the sink.”

Mitch’s spine tingled. “What loose floorboards? I didn’t know there were any loose floorboards.”

A tiny smile lifted a corner of her mouth. “That’s because you hardly ever did the dishes and you never fixed them like I suggested.”

A soft spot opened in his belly regardless of his attempt to keep it closed off. “That’s because someone always dragged me into the bedroom right after dinner and never gave me time . . .” He stopped his thoughts. Redirected his brain. “That was a big box, Halina. There’s no way it could have fit—”

“As I said, you never looked under the sink. That old landmark building had charm, but it was falling apart.”

His stomach leapt with hope. “You didn’t take them when you left? Why not?”

“No. I’d completely forgotten about them by that time. Hiding them hadn’t worked. They didn’t matter anymore.”

Mitch stared past Halina, his mind turning as he scraped his lip between his teeth.

“Mitch, the chances that they’re still there—”

“Is that something you can see?” His gaze darted back to her, hopeful.

“No, I see the futures of people, not things. What about the others on your firefighting team? Could one of them see if they’re still there?”

Quaid. He could see the papers. Maybe. If they used Cash’s son, Mateo’s, ability to pinpoint items on a map and combined it with Quaid’s ability to see clearly . . .

The plane’s tires touched the runway, bounced, and set down again for a smooth landing. He and Halina unbuckled and Christy came toward them with a smile. “You two look rested after your showers. And in better moods.”

He gave her a half smile. “You mean I passed behavior modification.”

“For now.”

He glanced at Halina’s heels and sighed with longing, then returned his gaze to Christy. “Have you looked outside?”

She grinned. “What? You mean all that snow?” Shrugged. “I couldn’t resist. I have boots for her too. Brian would like to know if you’ll be needing us again or if we’re released.”

Mitch nodded. “I’ll be needing you again. I’m not sure what time—later this afternoon or this evening, I’m guessing. If it’s going to be tomorrow, I’ll call you, but go ahead and get rooms anyway, just in case.”

 

Halina cuddled close to Dex in the backseat of the Suburban, waiting for Mitch on his umpteenth stop in the town of Truckee before heading up the hill to Teague and Alyssa’s house. Nelson, one of the security guards, had picked them up at the airport. With someone else in the car, Halina’s plan to argue with Mitch over his idea to fly to Washington for those papers was out. So was asking the million questions about the people she was going to meet.

“What could he need at all these places?” Halina muttered.

Nelson, a good-looking dirty blond with deep brown eyes, grinned over his shoulder from the driver’s seat. “Toys.”

She lifted her brow. “Like he doesn’t have enough.”

“For the kids.” His smile widened and a crescent dented his cheek. “If he walked in that house without something for them, they wouldn’t give a damn, but he’d feel like hell.”

Mitch had told her on the short walk from the jet to the SUV only that Nelson was an ex-marine he’d represented three years ago against the corps. He was dressed in black jeans, a heavy brown hunting jacket, and boots. Gloves, a knit cap, and a Smith & Wesson .45 semiautomatic rested on the console.

“Really,” she said in interest. She and Mitch hadn’t had the opportunity to be around children when they were together. Halina hadn’t believed she’d ever have a family until she’d met Mitch. Had always believed her own upbringing had messed her up too much to be a parent. But he’d made her see herself so differently. He’d made her believe in herself.

She thought of her possible pregnancy, and even though, logically, she knew it was wrong to consider bringing a child into this dangerous, stressful existence she called a life, she desperately wanted to be pregnant with his baby.

“He’s good with them?” she asked.

“He’s awesome with them. They idolize him.”

“Have you and Mitch been friends a long time?”

“Few years. We didn’t start out that way, but when a guy saves your freaking ass against the Marine Corps, you kinda bond, you know?” He grinned, but there was a humble edge to it. “I owe him. But I’d like to think we’ve grown beyond that into friends.”

Halina had always been able to see the exterior of Mitch’s life, the activities he allowed in the public eye, but knew very little about his work.

“I’d like to hear more about that, about the work Mitch did for you—I mean, if you don’t mind talking about it.”

Nelson shifted in his seat to be able to look back at her without twisting. “I’ll talk about the work Mitch does all day to anyone who will listen. The man is a damn god in my eyes.”

Considering the hell she’d been going through with Mitch, that statement hit her funny. Plus, she was a little punchy from exhaustion and when she started laughing, she had a hard time stopping. She laughed so hard she snorted, which made Nelson laugh and Halina laugh harder. When she finally brought herself under control, she had to wipe tears from her eyes.

“Oh my God,” she breathed through residual laughter, “did he make you drink the Kool-Aid?”

Another rolling laugh from Nelson filled the small space with warmth. “I’ll try to make a long story short here.” He gazed past Halina and out the side window. “I joined the marines straight out of high school. Grew up poor and planned on using the corps as a way to get to college. But they had other ideas for me and set me up on the fast track for MARSOC—that’s the Special Forces of the Marine Corps. I was totally on board. Loving life. Reached MARSOC in record time. Seemed I had a knack for intense situations and working under pressure. Probably from being beat up at school as a kid for being the runt.”

Halina chuckled, gesturing to his significant bulk. “You must have had a growth spurt.”

“Sixteen.”

She nodded and sat on the edge of the seat, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands, enjoying this nonconfrontational talk with a pleasant man.

“After six years with MARSOC, working missions in every third world country on the damn planet, my CO retired—my commanding officer,” he clarified. “The new CO came in with tight political ties, a huge chip on his shoulder, and several grudges to settle. Again, to shorten this up, let me just tell you that he took horribly unethical—sometimes inhumane—actions on certain missions to move political agendas and stick it to superiors. Revenge at that level is very convoluted and manipulative.

“I got caught in the middle when I refused his orders on a mission in Afghanistan. I was the captain of the team and he ordered us to open fire on a village without any intel or proof they harbored the Taliban members he claimed. There were women and children in this village and I told my men to stand down. My CO was livid—not because we didn’t desecrate the village, but because I was insubordinate in front of the others. And I was court-martialed.”

Halina’s muscles tightened in defense of this man. She didn’t know him, didn’t know whether he was lying or telling the truth, only knew how manipulative and vicious those in power could be and how trapped a person could feel when that wrath fell.

“My CO was hell-bent on making an example out of me, to send a message throughout the corps that no one crossed him. Unfortunately, he also had powerful allies. And they set out to bury me. They charged me with so many offenses I lost track. They fabricated evidence, bribed and threatened my own men to swear to things that didn’t happen. I was in military prison, looking at losing everything—my career, my pension, and my freedom for the rest of my life—when I found Mitch.

“He’d just nailed the corps big-time for a chemical spill into the water supply near Camp Lejeune. They’d known about the contamination for months but did nothing about it. A lot of men got sick. A couple died. Mitch took on a class action suit that no one else would touch. He filed against the corps and the chemical company and won. Got lost pay and lifelong medical care for the guys affected. Got multimillion-dollar settlements for the families of the men who’d died. The chemical company paid up, but had to file for bankruptcy afterward. Though I heard they’re up and running again now.

“Anyway, I figured he was probably the only person who would even touch my case. My JAG attorney was a piece of sh—” Nelson cut himself off, grinned. “Piece of crap. He basically told me to plead to whatever they offered. That I was screwed. I called Mitch, asked him to take my case. Actually, I begged like a man at the guillotine.

“I’m not exaggerating when I say Mitch saved my life. He got every charge dropped. He got me back pay from the time they arrested me and cut off my salary to the time I chose to take an honorable discharge instead of reinstating to my former command. He even got me a lump-sum settlement for emotional pain and suffering. He saved my pension, saved my future, gave me something to live for.”

Pride swelled inside Halina. Tears stung her eyes. To know her sacrifice hadn’t been wasted, to know Mitch had been out here, doing work like this, meant everything to her. “He’s an amazing attorney,” she murmured. “No doubt about that.”

“He’s an amazing
man
. One of those people who restores faith in the human race.” Nelson said, thoughtful. “And, yes, a brilliant attorney.” Then he grinned, and added, “But I keep that to myself because he eats it up.

“After he had everything with my case settled and he knew I was solid—physically, mentally, financially—he went after my CO. He went after the superior officers who cooperated with my CO. He even attacked politicians.”

Halina sat back, frowning, part confusion, part shock. “Why? He wasn’t going to get anything out of that.”

“He didn’t get anything out of my case either. Wouldn’t let me pay him. I had to make a
huge
stink about it. Had to go to his office and physically back him into a corner with the threat of damaging his
GQ
face to get him to agree that I could pay him fifty bucks a month if I really had to.” Nelson chuckled. “Asshole. I pay him five hundred a month, but I could pay for the rest of my life and never pay him enough.

“He has that kind of arrangement with a lot of military guys. Knows we make shit. Knows we work hard. Respects what we do and why we do it. He has a financial adviser in his firm now who assesses what a guy makes and works out some kind of acceptable payment, puts them on a plan if they need it. That way Mitch can avoid threats like mine. But from what I’ve heard—and I’ve heard a lot—he gets paid pennies for what he does. At least for military guys. I don’t know how he handles his other clients.”

Halina’s heart ached with this new window into Mitch. “What happened with the others he went after?”

Nelson’s grin was vengefully satisfied. “My CO was stripped of his command and demoted several levels where he has no authority. His wages were garnished so severely he’s living in a cardboard box. The superiors lost years of service and also had wages garnished—all big hits to their future since their retirement pay is based off their highest year’s salary. Everyone has letters in their files, which will make people think twice about hiring them for contract work after they retire. A few politicians got so much negative press, they resigned from their seats in the House and Senate. Mitch made sure they’d all feel the repercussions of their actions for the rest of their life.”

That last statement struck her heart like a fist. Mitch’s seething anger toward her based on his perceived betrayal seven years ago now made more sense. Maybe he wasn’t consciously seeking revenge on Halina, maybe he truly did simply need her to help him put Schaeffer away, but she was starting to see a theme in his past. She couldn’t help but wonder if revenge hadn’t been hardwired into Mitch. And whether the scars she’d left on his psyche hadn’t instigated that burning need to punish.

Halina knew everyone had black marks on their souls. She’d spent a lot of time thinking about how they got there. But she’d never considered how, or if, they could be removed. Like a scuff on the floor, polished away with time and repetitive behavior. In her own experience, she believed those dark grooves embedded in her childhood would stay forever. She also believed she was more easily scarred because of them. But removal?