Friday
LeJeune left a few minutes later, promising to keep in touch.
Luke made his way toward the door that led to the backyard.
“Hold on there, partner…,” I said.
He stopped.
“What did you and Grizzly do?”
He turned around. “What are you talking about?”
“Luke…”
“How do you know I did anything?”
I bristled. “Stop with the games. I may be preoccupied with Rachel, but I’m not totally unaware.”
He kept his mouth shut.
“If you had something to do with Stokes’ death, you’re just as bad as him.”
Luke made a stand. “Ellie, you do realize this is all speculation on your part. You have no evidence.”
“Except Grizzly’s call.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “If I did anything at all, which I’m not saying I did, it was only to protect you and Rachel.”
“Give me a good reason why I should believe you.”
“Because I love you. And because Stokes was going rogue. He was way over the top.”
“Look. I’m not sorry he’s dead, okay? I’m glad he won’t be able to hurt my baby again. But if you had something to do with it”—I felt my anger build—“that’s a different issue. So. Did you?”
“I’m not going to answer that question. But you’re right about one thing. This is a different issue. I know you’re independent. I know you have your crusades. But sometimes you get in over your head and you need help. You either allow me to take care of you and do the right thing or you don’t.”
“Was killing a bad guy the only way to rescue me?”
“Don’t be naïve. Sometimes it is and you know it. If your life is on the line and I have the resources or the contacts or the skills, well…” He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to.
Luke and I had reached a pivotal point in our relationship. There was no question I suspected him—at the very least—of passing information to Grizzly, who probably passed it to others, who made the decision to take Stokes out. But an assassination? Wouldn’t it have been more effective to lock him up? Send him to a stateside Guantanamo, or a black-ops rendition site, and make him live out his days regretting his misdeeds? Although I hated the man for what he did to my daughter and me, forcing him to spend every day of his remaining days pondering and, perhaps, even atoning for his sins seemed to be a more powerful punishment than executing him.
Then again, I had never served in the military or an intelligence agency. Luke, Grizzly, and LeJeune had. They might know something about the man’s conduct I didn’t. They had been and still were a part of the perpetual state of war in which our country seems to exist; maybe it changes one’s values and the way “soldiers” deal with rebellion, authority, and crime. Maybe war makes it easier to mete out retribution and punishment.
At the heart of it, though, was the personal relationship between Luke and me. As loath as I was to admit it, I do have a tendency to get in over my head. I do need to be rescued at times. Barry hadn’t been able to. Neither had David. But Luke was begging for the job.
He stood before me now, marshaling his thoughts. Finally he said, “I don’t know who killed Stokes. But I know why. He infected every person and organization he interacted with. It turns out a number of people wanted him dead.”
It was my turn to say nothing. If I continued to pick at the scab of Stokes’ death, I was pretty sure I’d discover Luke had played a role. So was I ready to condone a partner who actively pursued the assassination of another, as odious as that person was? Was I able to concede that maybe—just maybe—I needed someone in my corner to depend on? It was a huge risk to trust someone implicitly. Unconditionally. What if he took advantage of that trust and hurt me? What if it didn’t work out? This living “in the gray” wasn’t easy.
I had to make a decision. I mulled it over. “Just tell me one thing. Is it over?”
His brow smoothed out, and his body relaxed. His eyes filled with the soft, bottomless warmth I usually see. “Yes. The part that involves you and Rachel is over. Nobody will be coming after you anymore. I guarantee it.”
“What about being hacked? Will NSA or whoever the hacker of the month is stop listening in on my life now?”
“I can’t promise that. But I suspect once they find out how mundane and normal your life is, they’ll lose interest.”
I nodded. “Because of what you did.”
He shifted his weight. I was glad he didn’t try to embrace me. It was going to take time for me to put his behavior in perspective. Right now all I could think was that the “soldier” I loved was not the person I thought he was. Nor was the country we lived in the country I thought it was. Both thoughts left me with an uneasy feeling.