SEAL Love's Legacy (Silver SEALs Book 1) Read online

  She gulped in air and tried to continue without her voice wavering, but her emotions were building.

  “I looked for a change of scenery after I lost my husband and took this job last year at the Academy. I’ve gotten to know Georgette Collier as well as I guess anyone, and I think we formed a special bond, if that doesn’t sound too cocky. I’m here without any formal training like you guys, but I can help because of what I know. I can shoot, but not very well.”

  “They didn’t tell me that,” interrupted Garrett.

  Everyone laughed.

  Mimi raised her eyebrows and smirked, embarrassed at the focused attention she was getting. “I don’t do karate or any kind of sports, don’t bench press or lift weights. Don’t ask me to run a 5k or run to the store. I’m not your girl.”

  The group chuckled again.

  “I love reading, novels, poetry and especially romance novels. Some day when I get tired of teaching, maybe I’ll write a book.”

  They clapped, which mortified her.

  “Cornell?”

  “I had the distinction of working on several joint ops with several SEAL Teams, on a TDA when they were short a man. I did ten on the teams and then went to the CIA, then private contractor work, mostly security. And I hear you, Tanner, about the pay. We’ve also done hostage rescue, mostly embassy staffers and American citizens caught in the crosshairs. On the teams, my specialty was sharpshooting.”

  “We’re trying to get his buddy Derek Farley on board, but he’s got some obligations he trying to work out. You know the guy, the SEAL Celebrity Chef?”

  Mimi had never heard of him.

  An hour later, everyone was working in their rooms or on their laptops at the dining table, when they got the call from Mike that she could inspect Georgette’s room in the White House. He asked her to bring some wallpaper books so she could pose as a decorator.

  And Garrett was to accompany her.

  While their team began the assignments, Garrett and Mimi headed out for one of the area’s home decorating stores on their way to the White House.

  “Looks like you’ll get to add one more thing to your resume, Garrett,” Mimi said.

  He kept his eyes on the road but frowned. “What’s that?”

  “Have you ever measured for drapes?” she asked him.

  “I don’t have drapes in my house,” he answered, still not looking at her.

  “And that doesn’t surprise me a bit. Just don’t trip and fall when we get there. You gotta look like a pro, and pros don’t damage furniture.”

  “I’m more civilized than that,” he said, turning his face to her.

  They shared a smile. Mimi felt an electric chill quiver down her spine.

  Chapter 7

  Garrett sat on the two-step ladder they’d bought from the paint store. The White House staff had left so they were left alone in Georgette’s room with Mike Bintner. Garrett set the measuring tape on the bedside table. Mimi lay down her new clipboard and adjusted her glasses, surveying the room.

  Mike handed both of them sterile gloves and placed a pair on himself as well. “You have to use these at all times in here.”

  It made him feel like he was at a crime scene.

  It struck Garrett that this looked more like a room in a hotel than the bedroom of a celebrity teenager. It was devoid of posters, except for one large bulletin board, where Georgette had posted pictures with friends, events she was planning on attending and photos she’d cut out from magazines and other sources.

  “My sister had junk all over the walls,” he remarked.

  Mimi headed for Georgette’s desk, and pointed, asking permission to inspect it.

  Mike nodded, then addressed him. “The wallpaper here is of historical value. I guess in the past some White House kids have tried to paint over or strip the paper away. She had her choice of rooms. This one had the French Blue paper that is over a hundred years old, so they allowed her the bulletin board.”

  Mimi sat down on the teen’s chair and began to review items on her desktop.

  “You have taken her computer?” she asked.

  “Yes, we’ve got it, inspected it. We’re monitoring it as well in her absence.”

  “And her phone?”

  “We have that as well. If she’d taken it with her, we could have tracked her down. But she left it behind. It has a tracking device, as I’m sure you’d imagine.”

  Garrett felt a little sheepish. He’d inspected hovels overseas, sifting through personal effects and papers, even private compartments of some Heads of State, without thinking twice. But never had he examined a young American girl’s things, let alone the president’s daughter. And of course, he’d never posed as a decorator, carrying fabric samples and a wallpaper book, with a tape measure clipped to his belt. The light blue flowered motif was such a delicate backdrop to the dangerous possibilities of what danger Georgette could be facing.

  Garrett started looking over the posters she’d displayed, handling things carefully through the gloves. There were several postcards sent by friends from exotic places. He examined the backsides and didn’t find anything that interested him. “You’ve looked these over, I suppose?” He asked Mike.

  “You got it. Besides, all those cards are brought in through the White House Security process. Every piece of mail she would have received is scanned, dusted and opened before it gets here.”

  He flipped over a card from a winery in Sonoma County, where his house was located and noted one of her friends wrote about a family vacation there. She had her class schedule posted, and a calendar, Garrett noting some of the entries were in different styles of writing.

  He wondered how he would have felt as a teen, growing up so watched and monitored. There were definitely some things he did that he never wanted his mother to know about. Would Georgette feel the same?

  He looked up to find Mimi engrossed in a book.

  “What’d you find?” he asked.

  “She’s got a diary here.”

  “Where did you find that?” asked Mike.

  “It looks like a Bible. But I scanned the pages. At the end, there are about forty or so pages of blanks for notes. She’s been keeping a diary for—let’s see, this is not quite a month now.”

  Mike stood behind her, reading over her shoulder.

  “I honestly didn’t see this. We thought we had all her diaries. Good job, Mimi.”

  “Anything interesting?” Garrett asked.

  “Well, she starts out saying this was a gift.” Mimi looked up at both of them. “Could she have been given this at the prayer breakfast?”

  “We didn’t see anything on the recordings.” Mike leaned forward and put his forefinger on the spine. “There’s a page missing, see it?”

  Garrett also looked over Mimi’s shoulder and saw the remnants of a blank piece of notebook removed. Mike picked it up and splayed his fingers over the writing Georgette had done, then held it up, examining it closer.

  “We’re going to have to send this in. Be careful with the pages, but let’s read it over carefully, then I’ll bag it.”

  Mimi read aloud. Garrett stood back, then sat back down on the ladder, unsure whether he should sit on any of the furniture.

  ‘What a surprise to get this special gift. I promise to write in it every day! I’m reading the passages here too. Loren will be so proud of me! I told him I’m a bad girl in training, but he said if I studied this book, I’d change. Will this make me a good girl now? Some days I wonder if it’s too late. But I’m going to try. There is so much I want to do and so much I can’t. So, these are just some private thoughts for me, and me alone. I want to do something with my life that means something, and this is where I’ll start. Shhh!!! Don’t tell anyone!’

  Mimi looked up at him. “Who’s Loren?”

  “Must be one of the kids at her table. I don’t recall ever seeing a name like that. Could be a boy or a girl.”

  “I’m guessing boy,” answered Mimi.

  “What d
ay was that?” Mike asked.

  “October 2,” Mimi read.

  “That’s the day after the breakfast,” said Mike.

  “And look at this, Mike, there are passages highlighted.”

  “We saw those, just missed the notebook,” he answered. “Now I’m going to study them closer.”

  Mimi flipped to the back of the book. She read a few more passages. Eight days into the entries there was a break for two days, then she resumed. The passages became worrisome as Mimi read out,

  ‘He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He fulfills my soul. And then she’s paraphrasing again, I will go through the valley of the shadow of death and I will fear no evil.’

  Garret’s concern was deepening. “Holy cow. She’s met someone. Someone she’s following. We gotta find this Loren character.”

  “I think you’re right,” answered Mimi. “It’s like someone has used the Bible passages to conform them to a plan, a messiah-like plan.”

  “But for what end?” Garrett posed.

  “It’s not good. None of this is good,” whispered Mike. “It’s not the Bible verse themselves, but her or someone else’s interpretation of them. Someone’s affixed a meaning where there wasn’t one intended. This is manipulation.”

  The door to the bedroom opened. Garrett grabbed his tape measure out of reflex. Mimi and Mike were frozen in position.

  “Mr. President,” remarked Mike.

  “Stay as you are. Liz is on her way as well. We just wanted to get a quick update, if you don’t mind.” Harrison Collier’s face looked ashen, his cheeks sunken and his eyes puffy. Garrett noticed the toll it had taken on the normally tanned and vibrant-looking man.

  The president shook Garrett’s hand. “Mr. President,” he said. “I’m so sorry about all this.”

  “Call me Harrison. And yes, this is one of the things I never imagined would happen to us here. But, I have heard a lot about your heroics. I’m glad Liz was able to get you on this special team.”

  Garrett knew Branson had been the real person to have chosen him but wasn’t going to correct the president.

  “Thank you, sir. I’m going to do everything I was trained to get this mission accomplished as quickly as I can, sir. It’s an honor.”

  “Bone Frog. That Branson’s choice?” the president asked. Garrett noticed his under eyes were dark and he suspected it was from lack of sleep.

  “That’s a term for old SEALs,” Garrett was nervous and didn’t want to tell him it defined departed ones as well. “I guess I’m old enough to wear that. Got a little gray, and such,” he said as he felt his face flush.

  “Well I’m just a bit older than you are, so I must make me an old guy, ancient. Better watch it!” the president said, laughing. But the laugh was strained, and Garrett could see laughter was a nervous cure for how sick he must feel inside. He couldn’t imagine the man’s pain.

  Just then, the First Lady slipped inside and closed the door behind her. Mimi stood, handing the bible to Mike.

  Liz Collier was even more beautiful than her photographs. Garrett had seen her before, but from afar. She was well-toned, with light blonde hair cascading in curls over her shoulders. Garrett was tongue-tied.

  She came right over to him. “I’m so glad you’re going to help us, Garrett.” Her eyes sparkled, but he could see noticeable puffiness and new tears forming. She was also straining to keep up a happy countenance. Her brittle smile was followed by a slight wink as she continued. “Felicia has told me so much about you. I feel like we’ve met.”

  Garrett was frozen in place, until he realized she’d extended her hand and he was expected to shake it.

  “Ma’am. I was just telling The president here I’ll do everything within my power to get her back safe, and quickly, if it’s possible.”

  She gave his hand an extra squeeze before she released him. Then she brushed something from her right eye and stood by her husband, taking his hand.

  Garrett finally found his voice. “I believe you know your daughter’s teacher, Mimi Wagner?”

  Mimi approached tentatively, and then took Mrs. Collier’s hand. “Good to see you again, but I’m so sorry for the circumstances. This must be hell for you both.” Mimi added, “We’re going to work night and day to find her. You have the very best man here, for the job.”

  “Thank you,” both the p[resident and his wife whispered in return.

  Garrett was surprised at Mimi’s flattery.

  “Well, what have you found so far?” the president asked.

  “Sir, we’re kind of focusing on the Prayer Breakfast. Could there be any chance she met someone there that we aren’t aware of?” Mike asked the couple.

  “Not that I noticed. It was run through the staff, with Secret Service input, invitation only,” Collier said. “I’m sure they were all checked out.”

  “How about the kids table?” Garrett asked.

  “Well most of these kids are sons and daughters of the pastors or their staff who attended. I think it’s safe to say this would be one of the safest groups ever to come here. We’ve never had any issues or problems going back through several administrations,” he continued. “Or so I’ve been told.”

  “Is there any reason you’re focusing on this particular event?” Mrs. Collier asked him.

  “Mimi found a diary at the back of a bible that appears to have been a gift she may have gotten at the breakfast from a Loren. Does that ring any bells? We’re wondering if one of the kids gave it to her,” answered Mike.

  “A diary?” Liz Collier questioned. “Can I see it?”

  Mike held it up. “We’re wearing protective gloves. I’m going to have it analyzed for prints. I’d be happy to have copies of her pages delivered to you, but right now, I want to get it to the Bureau.”

  “But have you read it? What does she say about this Loren person?” Mrs. Collier was getting agitated.

  “Mrs. Collier,” Mimi started. “She talks about that someone gave it to her, just talks about doing something important with her life. These are all things I’ve seen before with my students, even in some of her writing in my class.”

  Garrett felt the need to jump in, “So far, nothing in the writing that is of much interest. But the prints are more important. If we can find out who gave it to her, it might shed some light on things.”

  “Did she indicate she was unhappy?” the president asked. “I just don’t understand how this could happen. Any indication she may have planned this? Or that she was depressed?”

  “We don’t know, sir,” Garrett added. “I wish I could be more definitive. But think about the breakfast and before. Anything unusual that transpired there? Anything about the guest list that was unusual?”

  They both shook their heads, solemnly.

  The trip back to the house was long. Mimi fell asleep against the window and then woke up as they turned off the freeway and began threading through the wooded countryside.

  He was anxious, even though he’d only been part of the team for the second day. He was hoping when he got back, that the team had dug up something they could go on, some lead they could follow.

  Today was productive, and it gave him some direction. But he was angered at the pace.

  Mimi turned to him. “You think they’re hiding something?”

  “I have no clue.” He shrugged and thought about her question. “Why, you pick up on anything?”

  “Not sure, but didn’t you think it was odd the president asked about whether she was depressed? Do you suppose she’s had some issues we don’t know about?”

  “Well, you know her. What do you think?”

  “I was struck by two things today. First, I was surprised they didn’t find that journal in the Bible. And second, I get the feeling someone isn’t telling the truth. It would sure make it a whole lot easier to find her if we knew who and why. That’s my thought.” She looked back at him with her honest eyes.

  He decided not to reveal to her that he agreed. That was the point.
Someone was trying to impede their forward motion. It felt like some of those missions where they walked into an ambush. Again, the intel was lacking, just like Branson had said.

  But he knew, if given the time and the tools, once they found out what the real score was, the team would be making a relentless bid to get it solved and get her home safe.

  If that was possible.

  Chapter 8

  The blare of heavy metal rock music hit her from behind the large oak door even before Mimi and Garrett stepped back into the house. But once they entered the foyer, the scene was straight from her college days.

  The dining room table had become a kind of geek lab, with some of the team wearing earphones and rocking out to their own private beats while others danced as they typed and manipulated their gadgets. A big screen had been mounted crooked on the wall.

  Fuzzy had on a muscle shirt and drawstring shorts and was covered in sweat, looking like he’d just come from a run. His tats covering his arms and lower legs moved like wild animals, his calves as large as tree trunks. He was also smoking a cigar, which had managed to give the whole room’s air a light blue watercolor wash. “Hey boss!” he yelled, waving to Garrett.

  Tanner had set up a folding table to the side. On it were several devices Mimi didn’t recognize. Heat signals and scratchy voice communications she’d only seen in movies caught her attention. More fascinating was the beanie cap with a propeller on it Tanner displayed on his head, and since he wore headsets, they partially hung up one of the propellers. He was so engrossed in his work that he had no idea they had entered the room.

  Cornell Bigelow, the former SEAL, former CIA private contractor, sported a cap with dreadlocks. His expensive all-black workout suit was completely devoid of symbols or patches, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses. He fist-power saluted both of them.

  Joshua’s long hair was in a ponytail while he Latin danced to the heavy guitar and drum music. Shades, a Red Friday tee shirt, camo pants, and flip flops completed his ensemble.