Dar blinked. A sense of shock made her skin prickle and she stood up in pure reflex, animal energy surging. “Am I hearing you right?” She paced around the desk. “Are you saying you’re not going to do anything?”

“Now, Dar.” Easton tried to sound offhand. “I’m sure a lot of this can be explained in any number of ways. Not everything’s a plot, y’know.”

Dar slammed both hands on her desk and leaned over the speakerphone. “Plot? Goddamn it, Gerry, it’s not some kind of damn plot; it’s a criminal act of major proportions! Are you telling me you’re just going to sit back up there and let those son of a bitches get off scot free?”

“Dar.”

“Don’t you ‘Dar’ me.” Dar’s temper built. “I risked my damn life going back in that hell hole because you asked me to, and now you tell me never mind?”

“You don’t understand,” Easton responded forcefully.

“There’s more at stake here than one measly base, Dar. This could rock the entire Navy. Do you want that? Do you want everything your father fought for dragged through every inch of muck Thicker Than Water 47

between Key Largo and DC?”

Dar stared at the phone. “The people in that report,” she took a breath, “deserve that.”

“I don’t give a damn about them,” Easton shot back. “It’s the Navy I care about. I’m not going to let something like this make us the laughingstock of the damn country. Of every other country.

I’m just not going to do it, Dar!”

Dar settled into her chair, folded her hands carefully on the desk, and leaned forward. “If you don’t,” she enunciated the words very, very carefully, “I will.”

For a moment, dead silence reigned. Dar waited, anger puls-ing through her veins and making her nostrils flare as her breathing deepened and her heartbeat slowed. Her hands twitched, as though sensing an impending battle.

“You wouldn’t do that,” Easton said quietly. “I know you, Paladar.”

The very faintest hint of a wry smile appeared on Dar’s face.

“You only think you do,” she growled softly, reveling in the tension. “I will do it, Gerald.” She paused. “I have to.”

A final parry was inevitable. “Think of your father, Dar.

Don’t you care what he thinks, how he’ll feel if you do this? You know how he loves the Navy.”

A sense of peace settled over Dar. “I am thinking of him. He’d whup the tar out of me if I did any less, Gerry, and we both know that.”

Another silence stretched between them. “Well, damn it.”

Easton sounded more than frustrated. “I’m calling that boss of yours in here tomorrow and I’ll see if I can talk sense to him then, if I can’t get through your thick skull!” He slammed the phone down, leaving a ringing in Dar’s ears.

Damn it.

She took a deep breath, surprised to find herself shaking a little. “Damn.” She lowered her head into her hands and closed her eyes, thinking about what she’d said. Did Easton have a point?

Would the report do irreparable damage to the service? “Guess I better warn Alastair.”

“DAR.”

Dar jumped almost a foot in her chair and whirled, shocked to see her father standing just inside the door that led down the back hall to Kerry’s office. She stared at him, then relaxed back into her seat. “Dad.”

Andrew Roberts removed his hands from the pockets of his pullover, walked around the desk to her, and looked down, his 48 Melissa Good face quiet and very serious.

Dar knew a moment of self-doubt. Gerald Easton had been right in one thing, she knew her father’s love and loyalty to the service ran very deep and very strong. She looked up into those pale blue eyes so like her own and wondered, Is the general right?

Is this too big a sacrifice? “Guess you heard all that.”

“Yeap.” Andy cupped Dar’s cheek in rare, gentle touch. “I ain’t never whupped you, Paladar.”

She gave a faint, mildly embarrassed shrug. “Sounded good.”

Dar looked down, then back up. “Was I wrong?”

A grin remarkably like her own appeared. “Hell no, you weren’t wrong.” Andy eyed the phone. “But that there’s gonna be a hell of a problem.”

Dar nodded.

“Heard about Kerry’s pop.” Andy’s expression sobered.

“Don’t rain but it pours, don’t it?”

Dar nodded again, tiredly. “Yeap.” She thought about what Alastair would say and winced.

Trouble. Oh yeah.

“I was about to head home,” Dar said. “Been a long day.”

“C’mon.” Andy offered her a hand up. “Got me some dog hairs I need to give back over by your place.” He put an arm around Dar’s shoulders as they walked to the door.

IT WAS ALMOST like looking at a stranger. Kerry curled her fingers around the cold metal bars and gazed at her father’s face, half-hidden by the tubes and machinery keeping him alive. His eyes were taped closed and there was no expression on his face, as though he were no longer a person but rather a mannequin used for training.

He would hate this so much, Kerry thought. Hate their pity, and the helplessness, and the indignity of it all. She lifted her eyes and studied the machines, then returned her gaze to that still, closed face. It was hard to know what to feel.

Kerry tried to remember the last time she’d felt joy in her father’s presence. When he’d been “daddy,” and she’d smiled just to see him. Her eyes moistened as she acknowledged just how long ago that was and how very young she’d been.

Too young to understand.

Maybe, five, six? Kerry’s lips tightened as a dimly remembered scene flickered before her—a birthday party. She’d gotten a pair of roller skates she’d desperately wanted, blue ones with silver tassels, and she’d thrown her arms around her father in sheer delight because she knew he’d gotten them for her.


Thicker Than Water 49

Five, then, before she’d gone to school, when life had been as simple as peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and the long days of fall she could skate in. She had a picture, somewhere, of herself in those skates, with kneepads and a grubby T-shirt. Grinning.

He’d hugged her back. Patted her. Called her his little girl.

Kerry flexed her hands on the bars, and released a shaky breath. That had been a very long time ago, indeed. She reached through the bars and laid her hand on her father’s arm, the skin feeling dry and papery beneath her touch. Then she slid her hand down until she curled her fingers around his, a simple touch she hadn’t felt since she’d been a child.

What she chiefly felt right now, Kerry acknowledged, was a deep sense of regret. “I’m sorry, daddy. I wish it hadn’t been like this.” She watched the unresponsive face. “I never meant for us to hate each other.”

She blinked, feeling a few tears spill down her face. “I hope you find peace with God.”

For a few moments, she simply stood there, holding his hand.

Then a sound made her look up, to see one of the nurses coming in. They exchanged awkward glances. “Sorry.” Kerry released her hold and backed away. “I know I’m not supposed to be in here.”

“It’s all right,” the nurse replied with quiet compassion. “Is that your father, honey?”

Kerry nodded.

“I’m sorry.” The woman, who was probably twice Kerry’s age, had a sweet face and a warm expression. “I know it must be tough for you.” She walked around to Kerry’s side and fixed a tube next to the bed. “Take your time. Everything we can do for him, we’re doing.”

“I know you are.” Kerry wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. “How…um...” She cleared her throat. “How long could he stay like this?”

The nurse faced her and met her eyes honestly. “As long as you let him.” At Kerry’s look of pain, she put out a hand. “I’m sorry, honey. I know that sounds harsh. But you know something?

I’ve worked in this unit for a long time, and sometimes death isn’t our enemy.”

Kerry found a place on the tile floor to focus on.

The nurse took a step back. “I’m sorry.” She fell silent. “I didn’t meant to upset you. I thought the doctor had already spoken to the family about this.”

“He did,” Kerry murmured softly. “But I don’t think we’re ready for that decision yet.”

They were both silent for a few moments, then Kerry shifted and put her hands on the bars. She felt sick to her stomach, the 50 Melissa Good tension creeping up her back and making her head pound. The nurse watched her, then adjusted a wire and left quietly, her steps muffled by the overhead speakers making soft, urgent announce-ments.

DAR AND ANDREW sat side by side on the couch, sharing a bowl of ice cream and a good deal of conversation. “If that’s what you found there,” Andrew portioned off a scoop of vanilla, “what else they got to look forward to? Can’t blame ’em for sticking their heads back down underneath the manure, Dardar.”

“Dad, it’s not like this is Tailhook,” Dar said. “Or some half assed misuse of government funds crap. This is documented evidence of big money smuggling and money laundering.”

Andrew grunted.

Dar removed a cherry and bit down on the stem as she considered all that had happened. “Hell if I’m going to let that jackass get away with this. Alastair’s just gonna have to take a stand on his morals on this one.”

Andrew glanced at her. “Ah don’t think Jeff Ainsbright’s the mover and shaker, Dardar. Just the nitwit they done got to front it all. Figgured he done just used his kid to roadblock you.”

“A pair of stooges.” Dar sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But damn it, someone has to be behind it, Dad.”

“Yeap.” Andrew nodded. “Problem is, that feller pro’bly ain’t gonna get hisself nailed for it. Big shots always find some little feller to squash.”