Dangerous Testimony Page 3

  The Coronado sky was a breathtaking blue and San Diego Bay dotted with pleasure craft. A freshening wind against his face made him yearn to take Candace and Tracy out on his boat, the Semper Fortis, and listen to their cheerful chatter as they fished for bass in the bay. The boat never seemed to be as filled with life as it was with the two of them aboard, but it would have to wait until they put away Rico and his goons. It angered him that Tracy would miss out on school and her friends because of Rico, maybe even her upcoming birthday party. Somehow Candace would explain it to Tracy so it made sense to an almost-eight-year-old.

  How did Candace do it? he wondered. Serve as both mother and father to Tracy. The kid was turning out great as far as he could see. How could she not with a mother who was so filled with grace, and determination and love? Candace was a rock for Tracy, and for some reason, she calmed a restlessness inside him, too, like nothing else did. Again the stomach tilt. He soothed himself by reciting parts of the creed embedded in his soul, even though he no longer wore the SEAL trident.

  I will never quit. I thrive on adversity.

  Honor on and off the battlefield.

  My word is my bond.

  His bond. His gut twinged. Long ago he’d promised Gwen he would love and protect her forever. He had not been able to shield her from the wicked hold of addiction. Would he be enough to protect Candace now?

  He slowed the last two blocks and Bear reduced his gait to a steady trot. Watch and observe, Quidel. Stick to the mission, keeping Candace and Tracy safe from the Pack. You’re going to win. You have to.

  “You’re gonna to listen to me this time, Candace,” he said as he eased his pace to a walk, knocked once and tried the door, surprised to find it locked. JeanBeth had an open-door policy, so Lon must have changed her ways. Atta boy, Lon. He used his own key to let himself in.

  Tracy looked up from the board game she was playing with Lon, and ran to give him the customary squeeze. “Hi, Unco.”

  Lon lifted an amused eyebrow, which Marco ignored.

  She’d called him that since she was two years old and he’d returned to Coronado on leave. Crossing paths with Bruce Gallagher meant an invitation to meet his family, and they had taken him under their wings. Those were happy times back then, before Rick had been killed and Marco had been christened Unco. No one else in the world would dare address him like that. It made him sound like a jolly grocer from a kid’s story, but from Tracy, he didn’t mind. For some reason he couldn’t manage to be very stern with the girl, who made him laugh like no one else on earth.

  “Who’s winning?” he inquired.

  “I am,” Tracy announced proudly, “But Mr. Lon is trying his best.”

  Marco chuckled. “You’re going down, Lon. Kid’s an ace at checkers.”

  Tracy beamed. “Only sometimes.” She turned to Lon. “Want to take a break and go throw the ball for Bear in the yard?”

  “Uh-huh,” Lon said, and Bear, sensing a game in the offing, was quick to follow them to the back sliding door and out into the Southern California sunshine.

  JeanBeth handed Marco a plate full of kale salad with cranberries and lemon vinaigrette. His favorite and she knew it. They settled in the living room.

  “Lon doesn’t talk very much. Is that some sort of Navy SEAL creed?” JeanBeth asked.

  Marco smiled. “No, I know a few guys who will talk your ear off if you bring up the right subject.”

  “What’s the right subject with Lon?”

  “Dunno. I’ve never figured that out.”

  “He doesn’t eat much, either,” she said with a disapproving frown. “Look how thin that man is. If he turns sideways you can’t even see him.”

  “When we were stationed in Virginia Beach his mom sent him fudge. He’s got a real sweet tooth.”

  Her face brightened. “I’ll make a note of that,” she said. Marco sensed that JeanBeth had just assigned herself a different kind of mission altogether. Brace yourself, Lon.

  Brent slung an arm around Donna and leaned back on the couch.

  “The Pack doesn’t leave much of a trail,” Brent said. “My guy at Homeland put me in touch with a Fed who figures Jay Rico runs a series of chop shops, but the locations change and they haven’t been able to get a bust.”

  Candace nodded. “That’s what Donna and I got, too. We did find out that Rico was born in Long Beach, and he had a brother who died in jail and a sister who seems to have dropped off the radar. Never married. No kids.”

  The phone rang, and JeanBeth picked it up and said hello.

  Marco eyed her, noting the tension in her jaw as she listened, the subtle stiffening in her posture. She put the phone down.

  “Who was it?” Angela asked.

  “I’m not sure. A man, deep voice. All he said was ‘Tell Candace. Five rings,’ before he hung up.”

  Marco felt a stirring of alarm, but he kept it from his face. “Let’s call Ridley at Coronado PD.”

  Donna gave Brent a pat on the knee. “He and Brent are not the best of friends, but he did help get Sarah and Jett off that island. I’ll call. What should I tell him?”

  “Did you say five rings?” Angela said, returning from the kitchen, her face grave.

  JeanBeth eyed her. “Yes, what does it mean?”

  “It’s a gang thing. I’ve counseled some young sailors who came from difficult backgrounds.” She toyed with the zipper on her jacket. “The rings is the number of phone calls you get before...” She looked at her mother and then at Candace. “It probably isn’t the time to talk about it.”

  “Five rings before what?” JeanBeth repeated.

  Angela grimaced. “Really, Mom. I shouldn’t have brought it up just now.”

  “Angela,” JeanBeth said. “You have to tell us.”

  All eyes were riveted on Angela. She pulled the patio door closed so Tracy would not hear from out in the yard.

  “Five rings before what?” Marco asked.

  “Five rings...” she cleared her throat, “before you’re dead.”

  FOUR

  It seemed to Candace that time sped up as soon as Angela dropped her bombshell. In a matter of three hours, an officer from the San Diego Police Department named Jennifer Barnes, and Ridley from the Coronado Police were meeting with the adults in the family room, while Lon and Tracy were occupied building a spaceship with Tracy’s Lego set in the kitchen. Candace suspected Lon was silently taking in every word of the briefing, but fortunately, Tracy seemed oblivious.

  Candace tried hard to focus, but her mind was still fogged in disbelief. The Pack had somehow tracked down her mother’s phone number and called to inform Candace that she would be terrorized and killed for daring to testify against their gang brother Kevin Tooley. She wondered if the same message had been left on her own home phone. A shiver went through her. Though her mother and Angela flanked her on either side and Marco and Brent stood sentry nearby, Candace felt the roots of fear taking hold. Suddenly Marco’s preparations did not seem so over-the-top.

  “The district attorney has three witnesses that saw Kevin Tooley pull the trigger at the gas station,” Barnes said. “So far you’re the only one who has been threatened. I’ve been assigned along with Officer Ridley and another couple of San Diego officers to do drive-by checks of your house during the day and post a cop here at night until the trial.”

  Candace blinked. “But what about when I’m not at home? Are you supposed to follow me for the next four weeks until our court date?”

  Barnes shook her head. “I’m sorry, ma’am. We just don’t have enough manpower for that. We’d like to suggest that you stay at home as much as possible.”

  “But I’ve got a daughter.”

  She nodded. “Any other kids?”

  “Tracy is an only child.” Only child, though Tracy desperately wan
ted a sibling. The words always hit Candace hard when she had to say them.

  For a brief, shining period of time, she had carried that little sibling for Tracy. But then there was a knock on the door, the men in uniform respectfully reducing her life to ruins, and then there was the miscarriage when she’d lost the last part of Rick, and then there was a bottomless well of depression where she could see no hope, not even from the God she beseeched for mercy.

  And then...

  Angela’s hand on her shoulder pulled her out of her reverie. How did her sister always know when Candace was teetering on the edge of that abyss? She covered her sister’s fingers and squeezed back, telegraphing the thank-you she couldn’t voice in front of the officers. How grateful she was to God for giving her sisters, who were truly the hands and feet of Jesus in her life. It felt doubly painful that she had not been able to give any siblings to Tracy. The only thing with which she could supply her daughter were the memories of her heroic father. Candace meant to preserve each one to keep Rick alive in Tracy’s heart. What’s more, she would not let her daughter see her fear. Her chin went up.

  “Am I supposed to lock Tracy away for a month?”

  Ridley tapped a pencil against his knee. “That’s not Jay Rico’s pattern. He usually orders the Pack to take out the direct threat to his organization and avoid collaterals.”

  “What does that mean?” Angela asked.

  “They target the person who has crossed them,” Marco said.

  JeanBeth jerked. “But we’re going to stop that, right?”

  “Affirmative,” Marco said. “There are enough of us to supplement the police watch. If the Pack is going to make a move, they’ll have to get through us first.”

  “If?” Donna said. “So this could be intimidation only?”

  Ridley nodded. “That’s most likely. The Pack is not active here in Coronado, though we’ve been keeping our eye on some auto thefts, but it would be risky for them to take action. They are probably just trying to scare you.”

  They’re doing a great job of that, Candace thought.

  “The guy Rico sent to the college was more than intimidation,” Marco said.

  “Maybe.” Ridley shrugged. “Could be he exceeded his orders from Rico.”

  “I’m not willing to put Candace’s safety on the line for a maybe.” Marco looked around at the family members. “From now on, she and Tracy stay inside unless it’s urgent, and we get her whatever she needs, agreed?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “What about Tracy’s school?” Candace said. Her daughter adored third grade and her teacher.

  Marco shrugged. “You can get one of those home study packets, and she gets a vacation.”

  Candace felt like screaming. “So we’re going to be prisoners until the trial is over?”

  “Think of it as protective custody,” Marco said.

  “I feel like I’m being punished.”

  “Not punished, protected.” Marco got up. “Let’s talk about a schedule, and we need to know everything you have on Jay Rico.”

  They clustered together with phones and notepads, as if Candace was no longer even in the room.

  Bullied. That’s how she felt about this five rings business. Like she was back in junior high, being bullied by the boys who refused to let her take a seat on the bus. She remembered sitting on the sticky floor in the rear, trying to ignore the jeers from her classmates, wishing one person might make a space for her.

  All she’d needed was a single brave soul to be her ally, but no one wanted to stand up to those bullies.

  No one.

  And Candace had resolved, after she got off at her stop on that long-ago day, never to be the subject of bullying again. The next day on the bus, she had elbowed her way to the front of the line, sitting down on the very first seat and announcing to the boys that she wasn’t moving.

  “And if you lay one finger on me,” she’d shouted, “I will show you how I earned my black belt in karate.” They’d believed her, even though she’d never set foot in a karate studio, and though they teased her relentlessly for the remainder of her school year, no one ever dared take her seat again.

  Candace remembered how Rick had laughed in delight when she’d told him that story early in their marriage. “That’s my girl,” he’d said. “Don’t ever let anyone bully you.” He’d tossed an eighteen-month-old Tracy into the air until she’d giggled with delight. “And my baby girl is going to have her mama’s tiger stripes, aren’t you?”

  And now here Candace was, a fully grown adult, being bullied by Jay Rico and his pack of thugs. Where were her tiger stripes now?

  “I want to go home,” she said quietly.

  There was no response from the cluster of adults.

  “I want to go home,” she said louder.

  Still no response. No one seemed to notice she’d said a word.

  “It’s not enough,” Marco was saying. “I’m going to bring in some more guys if I can get them.”

  “Civilian help is dangerous,” Ridley said.

  “They aren’t civilians, they’re SEALs.”

  “This isn’t their purview. They have no rights to act on domestic soil without orders.”

  Marco glared. “Try telling them that.”

  “I said,” Candace called in a near shout, “I am going home right now.”

  They all turned to her. She realized at that moment that Tracy was standing in the doorway.

  “Why are you yelling, Mommy?”

  She plastered a smile on her face. “Because Mommy is tired, and it’s time for us to go back to our own house.”

  Marco, her sisters and the two cops looked at her in surprise.

  “If you could wait another hour or so...” Ridley suggested. “Until we get things in place...”

  “Now,” Candace said, in what she hoped was a calm, confident voice. “I am going back home now. With all of you looking out for us, I’m sure we’ll be fine. Will someone give us a ride, or should I call a taxi?”

  * * *

  Candace sat in stony silence in the front seat of Marco’s truck while Tracy prattled on in the back next to Bear. Marco had no idea what book Tracy was describing, something about a time-traveling pony, but he listened attentively and put in a “wow” once in a while at what he hoped were the appropriate times.

  “And I’m gonna have a speaking part in the pioneer play we’re doing just before Thanksgiving break. The practices are super fun. I know almost all my lines.” She reached over to scratch Bear’s tummy.

  Anger edged up from Marco’s stomach toward his chest when he considered that Tracy was going to miss out on the next few weeks of school. It was possible she wouldn’t be in the show at all. No one had the right to strip away her childhood. When Jay Rico had sent his guy to interfere in Tracy’s life, he had made himself Marco’s enemy. Though he didn’t know it yet, he would, and soon.

  Marco realized he had the steering wheel in a death grip. He forced his fingers to relax. Clearing his throat, he shot a glance at Candace. “Got a guy coming tomorrow to watch your place.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “His name’s Dev. You won’t even know he’s around.”

  “What about tonight?”

  “That’s me.”

  “Don’t you think the cops are enough?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? Because they aren’t SEALs?”

  He shrugged. No, because they’re not me, and no one cares about the two of you more than I do. Again the out-of-the-blue thoughts kept sparking in his mind like tracer fire. “Dev and Lon are the best. They have skills that cops don’t.”

  “Like what?” She closed her eyes. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

  The strain in her voice was pronounced.
On impulse he took her hand. “I know your independence is important to you. This is just for a while.”

  “But I...”

  She looked in the rearview at Tracy, who was engrossed in singing a song.

  “I feel like I’m being a coward, letting them win,” Candace whispered.

  She clutched his hand, her skin satin soft against his callused fist. “Rick said I should never hide from anything.”

  “You’re sheltering in place, not hiding.”

  “But Rick...”

  Marco squeezed her fingers. “Rick would want you safe. Period. Don’t doubt that.”

  Tracy sat up. “Mommy, are you talking about Daddy?”

  “Yes, honey. I was just saying that Daddy was a brave man.”

  “Because he fought for our country?”

  “Yes, that, and because he always, always tried to do the right thing, even when it was hard.”

  The respect and adoration he heard in Candace’s voice awakened something sad inside Marco. Had Gwen ever thought anything like that about him? As their marriage disintegrated, she’d seen him as her enemy, a man who thwarted her plans and desires, put her second after the navy. What would it be like to have a partnership based on deep respect like Rick and Candace had had? If he had a woman like Candace in his life, he’d spend every day making sure she knew how much he loved her.

  Unsettled, he eased his hand from hers and she returned to her silent perusal of the quiet Coronado streets as they drove to her cottage.

  Had he done wrong speaking out about Rick? Probably. Marco bit back a sigh. Another situation that called for a penknife and he’d used a machete. Typical.

  He waved to the cop parked in front of the house, and directed Bear to stay in the truck. Marco walked them to the door, took the keys from Candace and unlocked it. He asked them to stay on the tiled entry of the house and did a quick perimeter check.

  “Looks good,” he said.

  “What’s going on?” Tracy demanded. “Why are you acting all weird?”

  Candace knelt down to look in her eyes. “There are some bad people who don’t want me to go to court. They are trying to scare me out of testifying.”