Read Online 19 Headed for Trouble by Suzanne Brockmann - Free Book Online

in the morning, I took an ax, went out in the yard and removed this old stump we’d been talking about getting rid of.” He’d chopped the crap out of it in about four hours.
    “I usually stick to cleaning out closets.” Savannah was impressed. “I’ve never tried anything that involves an ax.”
    “I have,” Meg said dryly. “Don’t bother. It doesn’t help.”
    Nothing helped.
    “If you want,” Savannah suggested, “we could help you organize your closets. It’ll keep you busy. And you’ll also win big bonus points when Alyssa comes back.”
    When Alyssa comes back. They were sitting there, allthree of them, pretending that
if Alyssa comes back
wasn’t what she really meant.
    God, he hated this. But the alternative was sitting in his kitchen by himself. Or trying to fool Haley into thinking everything was all right, and sneaking into the bedroom every ten minutes to turn on CNN, see if there was any new information that made it to the cable news station first.
    So he told Savannah, “I did the closets on the second night. It took a while, but I wasn’t going to sleep, so …”
    “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Meg asked, clearly working to keep the conversation going. “Just how much junk two people can accumulate in a short amount of time …?”
    “Yeah,” he agreed. “I found this old hat—a baseball cap—that I thought I lost years ago and—” He broke off. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry, I can’t stand it. I’m just sitting here, so freaking helpless—I can’t do a thing to help her. Even if I got on a plane …” It would take him at least forty-eight hours to get to Ikrimah. He closed his eyes. “Right now, she could be dying. Right now. Right
now
. And I can’t help her.”
    Meg took his hand. “I know,” she said quietly. “It’s hard, isn’t it?”
    Sam looked at her, and he knew that
she
knew exactly what he was feeling. “How many times have you done this?” he asked.
    “Thought John might not be coming home?” she clarified. She didn’t wait for him to respond. “There’ve been, oh, I guess three or four times somewhat similar to this situation. But, you know, every time he’s out there and there’s some news report about a helicopter crash or a suicide bomber or …” She laughed as she shook her head. “Believe me, there’s a lot of prayer involved when you’re married to a SEAL.”
    “And a lot of really clean refrigerators,” Savannah added.
    “Pristine closets.”
    “Well gardened yards.”
    “You see, John knows where he is when he’s on an op,” Meg told Sam. “He knows when he’s safe and when he’s at risk. But all I know is he’s somewhere dangerous and …” She shrugged. “It sucks.”
    No kidding. “I had no idea,” Sam admitted. “Before this, I just …” He shook his head. When he’d gone wheels up with the team he’d understood that it was no picnic for the wives, girlfriends, and significant others they left behind. But he’d had no clue just how awful it could be.
    Joan appeared in the doorway, cordless phone in her hands. “That was Mike,” she told them. “The team’s training exercise’ll be over in an hour. He and John and Ken’ll bring dinner when they come.”
    The phone rang again, and Joan retreated toward the living room. “Starrett and Locke residence,” Sam heard her say. But then she gasped. “Oh, my God!”
    Sam was up and out of his chair, and he nearly collided with her as she came racing back into the kitchen, thrusting the phone at him.
    “Jules,” he said as he clasped it to his ear. Please God, let this be good news. “What’s the word?”
    “It’s not Jules,” Joan said, but he waved for her to be quiet, because all he could hear was static, and then …
    “Sam, it’s me. I’m all right,” Alyssa said—beautiful, wonderful, vibrant, and so-very-alive Alyssa—her voice suddenly clear as day.
    “It’s Lys,” Joan announced, which was good because try as he might, Sam