CHAPTER 17
SURPRISE! Except the joke was on Aria, because the first thing she saw as she followed Orion into the massive amusement park under the dome of the center of the Mall of America was the man she loved—yes, loved, and she planned on telling him that—hanging over the edge of the second-story balcony.
Hanging, one hand on a lower girder, his other hand gripping a hysterical little girl.
Aggie Jones, Ham’s daughter.
And to her eye, it looked like Jake was—yes—bleeding.
His hand, in fact, was slipping, from the looks of it.
They were going to fall.
People were screaming.
She felt like screaming.
On a level above them, North had ahold of a man, wrestling him to the deck.
A crowd had gathered right below the balcony, around the big yellow blowup sponge. A stupid place to stand—and she had a mind to tell everyone to move.
But, exactly the right place to jump, if someone had a mind to do that. They could, with the right angle, land on the massive bounce-house-slash-pillow.
“What’s he doing?” Jenny said. She’d slipped her hand into Aria’s as they made their way over to the horrible spectacle.
Yes, Jake was most assuredly slipping. She saw him adjust his grip, and then, as she watched, he pulled the little girl up to his waist and clamped his legs around her. He let her go and grabbed on to the girder with his other hand.
His injured hand.
“They’re going to fall,” said Jenny.
Aria looked at her. “This is Jake. Trust me—he’s got everything under control.”
Jenny gave her a look. “He’s dangling from a second-story girder!”
“And he knows what he’s doing!”
Okay, she might sound a little panicked, but—
But she knew it in her gut. Jake knew what he was doing. Even impulsive, even out of his element, even with his crazy schemes, Jake . . . well, Jake might follow his gut, but she’d gladly put her life into Jake’s impulsive hands.
He was talking to Aggie, who put her arms around his body.
Then, he leaned down and spoke to her. Aria could imagine what he might be saying . . .
Hold on.
I’ll keep you safe.
I promise.
And if anyone kept his promises, it was Jake Silver.
Jake wrapped his arm around the girl, pulled her to himself. She locked her arms around his neck. Then, as if he might be an acrobat, Jake used his legs to spring them out into the open air of the mall.
Flying, it seemed.
Voices screamed, and Jenny gasped.
Jake landed on the giant blow-up sponge at the entrance. He cradled Aggie in his arms, falling into the sponge, then back, into the ball pit.
“That jerk,” Orion said and took off, moving as quickly as he could on his crutch.
The man was brilliant. Aria hobbled after him.
By the time they reached Jake, he was rolling out of the pit, Aggie still clinging to him. Orion helped them out and then took Aggie.
“You okay, kid?”
She looked at Orion, then Jenny, and Aria—who really wanted to give her a good twice-over—and then her gaze settled on Ham, who was running across the entrance.
She burst into tears. “Daddy!”
Ham’s expression broke as he scooped her up, pulling her hard to himself.
Jake sat on the edge of the ball pit, his hand clamped to his bleeding arm, watching.
But Aria was watching Jake. The look on his face, the way his jaw tightened, the way his breathing caught.
The way his eyes teared up.
“Jake?”
He looked at her, his eyes widening. Then he closed them, his head bowing.
She walked up to him, put her arms around him, and pulled him to herself as he quietly, appropriately, fell apart.
“Jake?” Orion started, but Aria looked over at him.
“I got this,” she said.
Orion raised an eyebrow but nodded.
“I could use a first aid kit,” she said.
“I’m on it,” Jenny said.
A crowd had gathered, some of them clapping, but she ignored them as Jake’s shoulders shook.
“You’re going to be okay, tough guy,” she said quietly. She kissed the top of his head.
A breath rattled out of him, and he pressed his hand to his face. Looked up at her. She ran her thumbs down his cheeks, catching the moisture there. “It’s okay. Trauma makes people do strange things. Feel all sorts of unexpected emotions. You’re going to live. Trust me. I’m a doctor.”
He looked at her, smiled. “A hot doctor.”
Aaaand he was back.
“What are you doing here, anyway?”
“Really? That’s how you’re going to greet me after I chase you . . . all the way across . . . town?”
He waggled his eyebrows. “You’re chasing me now?”
She nodded, her smile falling. “I love you, Jake. No matter what you do. I love you for who you are, for the tough guy, the joker, even the guy who scares me to death. And I’ll love you even if you decide to reactivate.”
He stared at her. “Oh, uh . . . I’m not reactivating, Aria. That was . . . I don’t know, an impulse. I guess I just wanted to do something more with my life.”
“More than rescuing little girls and hot doctors?”
“No, that’s enough.” He reached up to touch her face but drew back at the blood. “Sorry. I got a little nick when I went over.”
“My guess is that I’m going to have to get used to this.”
Jenny had returned and handed her the first aid kit. Aria walked Jake over to a bench. She sat beside him, examining the wound.
“It’s a pretty deep graze. You might need a couple stitches.” She pulled out a gauze pad.
“Good thing I know a good trauma doc.”
She pressed the gauze to his arm. “About that . . .”
“I know about Texas, Houlihan. And I’m in.”
“What?”
“I overheard that doc from Cincinnati. Something about you transferring to Texas?”
“Yeah, well—”
“I’m in. If you want to go to Texas, I’ll learn to herd cattle or something—”
“I’m not going to Texas, Jake.”
He stared at her.
“I like my job here. I like my life. And Ham did mention he needed a trauma doc on his SAR team, right?”
“Right,” Ham said. He was carrying Aggie, who held him in a death grip. For his part, he didn’t seem to be letting her go.
“Who was that guy, Ham?” Jake asked.
“I don’t know. But he was swearing in Russian when North took him down, so . . .” Ham looked at Aggie. Clearly, he didn’t want to have this conversation in front of her.
“Let’s get both of you to a hospital, make sure you’re okay,” Aria said.
“But what about the birthday cake?”
Everyone stared at Aggie and her question. Hadn’t Jake said that Aggie refused to talk?
But then again, that’s what happened when a girl stepped into Jake’s world—he showed her who she could be.
Helped her become it.
Because that’s what heroes did.
“C’mon, Hawkeye. Let’s go. Because Aggie’s right. We need to get back for cake.”
Jake didn’t know why he was getting all emotional. It wasn’t like today was any different than every other. His family, hanging out, laughing at his stupid jokes, the boys playing Monopoly with their grandpa, Phoebe and Selah sitting at the kitchen island, shopping for baby clothes online. North had left the room to take a call. Ham was at the table with Aggie and the twins, coloring a picture of Dora the Explorer, attacking it with the zeal of once-a-SEAL-always-a-SEAL. Chloe was taking shots of the birthday cake as Dinah lit it, his mother armed with a cake knife, ready to serve it up.
Except, this might be better because Aria stood in front of him, leaning against his chest, her hands running down his forearms, contented, it seemed, to stay right here.
No more running.
And he was turning into an embarrassing sap because he couldn’t stop the sense of wanting to tear up, his throat still thick from his crazy stunt at the mall.
What had he been thinking?
Maybe he hadn’t. He’d just—well, reacted. But not before he’d leaned down and told Aggie to trust him.
But even before that, he’d realized that he was going to fall. And if God didn’t catch them both, they were goners.
So he’d done the only thing he could. God, please save us both. Not because I’m a hero, but because you are.
And then he’d grabbed Aggie and let go.
But the fact that they’d lived, that Aggie hadn’t been hurt, that he hadn’t broken both their necks—it all rushed out of him in an embarrassing deluge of emotion.
Tears, for cryin’ out loud.
But, for the first time in longer than he could remember, he could breathe.
Clean.
Dinah finished lighting the candles. “C’mere, girls.” She pulled up a couple benches, and Lola and Darcy dropped their crayons and climbed up to hover above the cake.
“Everybody sing—” Dinah started them off.
Even Ham joined in, his hands on Aggie’s shoulders.
They were going to make it. Something had unlocked inside Aggie, and she spent the entire visit to the hospital talking about her week with the Silvers. Apparently, Ellie had taken good care of her.
Of course.
The twins blew out the candles, and his mother dug into the cake—pink, with a red crab in the center.
“I love cake,” Aria said, taking her piece.
He took a plate also and headed over to the sunroom. “You’re really not moving?” They hadn’t exactly talked about Aria’s declaration during his visit to the hospital—six unnecessary stitches in his opinion—and he wasn’t sure her words hadn’t been panic induced.
Aria tended to step outside her body and make all sorts of crazy statements when the storms hit.
“It’s a great opportunity,” he said, sitting down in one of the wicker chairs. “The next big thing in your career, right?”
She sat opposite him, her plate on her lap, her fork poised over her cake. She looked up at him, grinning. “You’re my next big thing, Jake.”
Oh.
“Any more adventures, I’m having with you.”
“Really.”
“Mmmhmm.” She took a bite of cake.
And his heart just might explode.
“Buckle up, sweetheart.”
She swallowed, took a sip of her soda. “I’m wearing a three-point harness.”
He laughed and her eyes twinkled.
The doorbell rang and Ellie slid off her stool at the island to get it. Maybe it was Stephan—his absence at the family shindig irked him. But Phoebe seemed unruffled, so maybe he shouldn’t worry.
In fact, maybe all his sisters were grown up, and not needing their big brother to hover anymore.
Or to hover less, perhaps.
Ellie came back into the room holding the hand of a tall, handsome young man with the look of an athlete. Jake gave him a hard look.
“Everyone, this is Landry. Landry, this is everyone.”
He offered a grin, and even shook Chuck’s hand.
Jake glanced at Aria, who was watching him. “Down, tiger,” she said.
Oh. He had put down his drink, looked like he might pounce.
North had walked into the room, and Jake saw him gesture to Ham on his way to the sunroom.
“What?” Jake said, wiping his mouth.
North pocketed his phone. “That was a buddy of mine, Will Masterson, who works for Homeland. He was just confirming a hunch Ham had—that the guy who attacked Aggie was Bratva.”
Jake looked at Ham. “The Russian mafia? What?”
“I saw his tattoo right before North took him down. A star, on his neck.”
“Why would the Bratva be after Aggie?”
“I don’t know, but I think it has something to do with Signe, and her death,” Ham said. “When I was in Europe trying to track down Royal, I met with a contact who told me about a rumor that the Bratva is searching for something called the NOC list.”
“That’s real?” Aria said. “I thought that was something from a Tom Cruise movie. A list of undercover agents around the world? That’s spy-movie stuff.”
“It’s real. And according to Chet, it’s being auctioned on the black market.” Ham looked at North and Jake. “Clearly, it’s bothering me that Signe didn’t contact me for over a decade, but what if . . . well, she said something to me that made me think maybe she was working undercover.”
“You think Signe was CIA?”
“I don’t know. And I don’t know why she kept Aggie a secret from me. Maybe she didn’t have a choice. Or was coerced to stay. But if she was, and she had somehow earned the trust of the man who kidnapped her—Pavel Tsarnaev—then I could see her playing a long game.”
“Pavel Tsarnaev?” Jake glanced at Landry, who was accepting a piece of cake from his mother. He was laughing, his hand on Ellie’s back.
“Russian-Chechen terrorist with ties to the Bratva,” Ham said.
“The guy who attacked the refugee hospital?” Jake said, turning back to Ham. “He took Signe.”
“Yeah. Or . . . what if she went with him?” Ham took a breath. “We did recover her coworker, Zara, easily enough.”
“Do you think Tsarnaev had the NOC list?” North asked.
“How would he have gotten it?” Aria asked.
“I don’t know. But maybe Signe’s cover was blown, and he killed her.”
And that shut down the room.
“What if Signe had the list?” North said.
“That makes sense. Because why would the Bratva come after Aggie,” Jake said quietly, “unless they think she has it?”
“Maybe they think Signe is still alive, and they could use her daughter for leverage,” North said, adding even more doom.
Ham leaned forward, his hands clasped. “All I know is that my daughter is in danger, and I don’t know how to stop it.”
“What about Royal? Didn’t you have a lead on him?” Jake asked.
Ham nodded. “I missed the meet with him, but Chet gave me a number. So far no answer to my voice mail.”
“Find Royal, and you might find answers,” North said.
“Maybe. He might even be on the list,” Ham said, leaning back. “But for now, I need to stay close to Aggie.”
As if she’d heard her name, Aggie came into the room. She looked at Jake, smiling. “Can I have another ride on your sailboat?”
Jake would do anything for that smile. “Yes.”
“But maybe tomorrow,” Ham said. “I think we need to get home. I have a surprise for you.”
She fairly beamed as Ham got up and took her hand.
North followed him out.
Aria leaned forward. “How about me, Hawkeye? Do I get a ride on your sailboat?”
“You want one?”
She nodded.
Only then did he notice a second necklace hanging around her neck. He reached out, touched the charm, a half-heart to match the one he’d returned to her in Florida. “What’s this?”
“Oh.” She grabbed the charms, held them together. “It’s Kia’s half. I thought . . . well, since I have our heart, I should wear it.”
Our heart. He smiled at her. And then— “I’ll meet you outside, by the cat.”
He set his plate in the sink, then headed upstairs and found the shoe polish tin, still tucked in his backpack. Opening the tin, he took out his identification tags, wrapped in black silencers.
He let them dangle in the late-afternoon light, reading the designation.
Name, Silver, Jake C.
His department of defense number. Member of the US Navy.
Blood type, O Neg.
Religion, Christian.
He shoved the tags into the pocket of his cargo shorts, then headed downstairs.
The sky was a beautiful turquoise, a slight scattering of wispy clouds, the sun burning the edges with its fall toward the horizon. It would be a beautiful sunset.
Aria was barefoot, her hair down and blowing in the wind. “Will I get wet?”
“Maybe,” he said. “But it’ll be worth it.” He stood on shore. “I gotta do something first.”
He walked out to the end of the dock and pulled out the tags.
“You don’t have to wear your dog tags to be a SEAL.”
He hurled the tags high into the air, watching them catch the sun until they dropped into the water.
Vanished.
Nope. He didn’t.
“That’s in here . . .”
He walked back to Aria. “Ready to fly?”
“I’m ready, Superman.” Her eyes shone.
Ho, baby, this would be fun.
She made to help him push the cat into the water.
“Whoa—I got this. You stay on shore. I’ll carry you.”
He half expected an argument, but she just perched herself on the dock as he unwound the mainsail, the jib, laid out the lines. The wind wanted to grab the cat, but he reined it in and brought the cat next to the dock. Then he hoisted himself aboard and reached for Aria.
She braced her hands on his shoulders and let him lift her onto the trampoline. He handed her a life jacket and hooked her into the trapeze. “You think you can hang ten with that ankle?”
“Try and stop me.”
He laughed. “I know better than that.”
Then he pushed them off and pointed the cat toward the glorious golden sunset.
Put his face to the wind.
And spoke the truth.
I am forgiven. I am clean.
I am loved.
When Ham had purchased the 1970s home, he hadn’t envisioned a family living here.
Although deep inside, maybe his heart had beat to a different hope, because he’d purchased a three-bedroom home.
He’d done most of the renovations himself, vaulting the ceiling in the great room, connecting the inside to the breathtaking private view of the lake with massive sliding doors that opened to an expansive deck. Dark walnut cabinetry, hardwood floors, minimalist furniture, and sleek industrial post-and-beam construction with massive windows, including a skylight, seemed exactly the right adornment, for a man.
But not for a little girl.
Which was why he’d armed Selah and Ellie with a secret mission.
The mere fact that Aggie was talking to him put a fist in the center of his chest, but her words, the delight in her voice as he opened the door to her bedroom . . .
He couldn’t breathe.
Thank you, ladies.
Selah and Ellie had taken his request to decorate Aggie’s room to heart. He hadn’t really paid attention to the purchases today at the mall—just showed up with his credit card. But they’d gone to town on the room he’d used formerly for the storage of his scuba and climbing gear and transformed it.
Butterflies fluttered in 3-D over the double bed fluffed with fuzzy purple pillows. Over the top of the arched headboard they’d stenciled the word Dream. A stuffed rabbit sat between the pillows.
A disco-ball light fixture hung from the middle of the room, and a white wicker egg chair hung in the corner. Purple curtains framed the window and a fluffy pink pouf sat at the foot of the bed.
A few books were tucked in a basket next to his discarded black dresser, now covered in shiny heart decals, and a flower-shaped carpet added softness to the hardwood floor.
They’d even purchased a few items of clothing to add to what Georgia Silver had given her. A frilly nightgown, leggings, a couple of sparkly shirts.
Aggie danced into the room, tossing her worn unicorn on the bed and scooping up the stuffed rabbit. She turned to Ham. “Thank you.”
He nodded, unable to speak. Finally, “Why don’t you get ready for bed, and I’ll come back and read you a book.”
She beamed at him, nodding.
He closed the door and walked out into the hallway. It overlooked his great room, and outside twilight had begun to settle, painting the sky a deep magenta, lavender, gold.
He might have painted a different ending, but maybe this was all a guy like him, with the choices he’d made, could hope for.
“I love it.”
It seemed like enough. Really.
“Shh, Signe. It’ll be okay.”
Yes, it would.
He walked downstairs and opened the fridge. Grabbed a container of milk and poured some into a glass. Kids drank milk, right?
“This one!”
He looked up and Aggie was wearing her nightgown, holding up a book. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. “You got it, kiddo.”
He tucked her into her bed, sat beside her. “I love this story. Your mom did too. We used to pretend we were in Narnia. She was always Queen Susan, and I was King Peter.”
Aggie was so small, tucked next to him, with her golden hair down, and in his heart stirred a memory.
Signe, at this age, sitting next to him as they lay on a blanket in his yard, watching the stars drop from the sky.
Even then, he was in love with her. Probably had been his entire life.
“Wish, Ham! Wish on a star.” She pointed to one, but he didn’t catch it.
“I wish for this.” He nearly took her hand, but that was scary and she’d probably hit him.
But yes, he wished for her, beside him. Forever.
“Who is Susan?” Aggie asked now.
“Just the bravest of all the queens. A warrior. Like your mom was.”
Aggie had tucked her grimy unicorn next to her along with the rabbit, on her lap.
“Hey, maybe I should wash this one, huh?” He reached out for the unicorn.
“No!” She yanked it away. “Mama said to never let it go.”
“Nothing will happen to it, honey. I’m just going to wash—”
“No!”
He held up his hand. “Okay. Sure. No problem.”
She looked up at him, her eyes filling, her mouth a tight bud. “Mama told me not to tell you.”
He stilled. “Tell me . . . what?”
She clutched the unicorn to herself. Considered him. “Tell you about the phone.”
The phone? “Aggie, what are you talking about?” Ham said quietly.
Slowly, she turned over the unicorn. The bottom was secured with Velcro, and she opened it.
A burner phone lay tucked in the innards, encased in a plastic baggie.
He stared at it. “What is this?”
She pulled it out and handed it to him. Met his eyes, hers wide, searching his.
“You can trust me, honey.”
She swallowed. “It’s so I can talk to Mama.”
So she could . . . talk . . . to her mother?
“What?”
“Except, it doesn’t work anymore.”
He unzipped the bag and opened the phone. No juice.
“Aggie, when was the last time you talked to Mama?”
Aggie shrugged. “I don’t remember.” Her eyes filled.
Aw. He put his arm around her. “When did she give this to you?”
“On the boat. Before . . .” She drew in a breath. “She said to only call her if I was scared. And to not tell anyone I had the phone.”
“Even me?”
Aggie nodded. “Especially you.”
Especially him?
Signe, what are you up to?
But no wonder Aggie hadn’t spoken, taking her mother’s words to heart. Ham kissed her on the top of her head. “How about if I charge this?”
She nodded and picked up the book. Started to read.
“Aggie, can you read English?”
She looked at him. “Of course. And French, German, and Russian.”
Oh, she was so Signe’s daughter.
And his amazing daughter. “I’ll be right back.”
He found a cord in his junk drawer and plugged in the phone. It came to life.
And he couldn’t help it. He opened it and scrolled to recent calls.
His heart nearly stopped.
A week ago.
After he’d brought Aggie to America, while he was in Europe.
Only one number was listed, and he pushed it.
His heartbeat hammered in his ear as the number connected.
Rang.
Someone picked up.
“Aggie?”
He braced his hand on the counter. Closed his eyes.
He could practically see her, her presence, like an electric shock through him, tremoring his entire body. Nearly feel her breath through the line.
Somehow, he choked out, “No. It’s Ham.” Silence and— “Sig, don’t hang up!”
More silence.
“She’s safe. I got her.”
A quick, indrawn breath. “She’s okay?”
“Yes.”
“Thank God. Please keep her that way, Hamburglar. But . . . don’t try to find me.”
“Sig—”
She hung up.
He clenched the phone in his hand, closed his eyes.
“You’ll never lose me, Hamburglar. No matter where I am.”
That’s right, he wouldn’t.
He was bringing his wife home.