Read Online Close to Home by Liz Lee - Free Book Online Page B

get him away from the tiny orphanage that made such a big difference.  
    Carlita dropped her white towel and wiped tiny hands on her apron as she frowned her displeasure.
    “Donovan, the sun is still shining.”
    Donovan herded Sam to the bar and ordered a round of José’s best tequila and offered an explanation. Hopefully, Carlita understood.
    “Sam this is José and Carlita Sanchez. They run this fine establishment and they know how to keep the booze flowing. José, Carlita, meet my former boss, Sam Jackson. Finest producer stateside and across Asia. Sam here thinks he’s going to finagle me into going home or telling all my Mexican secrets. Once he’s tried out Happy Hour Sanchez style, I think he’ll understand why that’s a no go.”
    Carlita shot José a worried glance and Donovan tried to allay their fears. Hoped he was right.
    “No worries, though. We’re not on the clock. I’m vacationing, and Sam here, seeing that he’s visiting me, is vacationing, too. No stories, no photos, no secret iPhone coverage.” The last he said as much for Sam’s benefit as theirs. “Sam understands the simple fact that some stories must go untold to protect innocents. He and I learned all about that one in Afghanistan, didn’t we Sam.” He downed the shot José placed in front of him as he tried to control the nerves zinging around under his skin, then downed another as the memories came roaring back. Memories he thought he’d buried far enough under the sweat of the last few weeks. Shit.
    He gulped another shot, the tequila splashing over the sides of his glass because of his shaking hands.
    “Nelson, maybe we....”
    Donovan interrupted him. “No can do, Sam my man. You paid me a visit, the least I can do is be a gracious host.”
    After the sixth shot Sam joined him. Reluctantly it seemed, but willing to go down this road if that’s what it took to get Donovan to talk.
    “What problem are you trying to drown anyway, Nelson?”
    Donovan didn’t answer the question, just slammed the shot and chased it with the sour citrus. Sam knew about all the problems except the disaster he’d made back home. Knew about them and didn’t seem to be bothered a bit.
    He wasn’t talking, though. He’d drink until talking wasn’t an issue. No way could he tell Sam about Caldale.  
    When he’d found himself in Caldale, he’d promised to make the visit short, to the point. And then he was getting the hell out of there before the small town sucked him in.
    Well, he’d certainly done that.
    If he’d stayed around even one more day he would’ve crumbled. Given words to the images in his mind and made them that much more real.
    Forgetting B’en Ai would be tough enough. He didn’t want to remember Ali and Anaj. Didn’t want to see the flames or hear the screams. Didn’t want to think about what kind of damage Sam could do here.
    “Shi-it.” He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and asked José to hand over the whole damn bottle again.  
    The man beside him laughed as Donovan downed yet another shot. “Man. I don’t know what’s bugging you, but seems to me you should be living the high life right now.”
    Donovan didn’t want to listen to anything his cold hearted boss had to say.
    “Yeah. Well, in my book this is the high life.”
    Sam shook his shaggy blonde head. “My thirteen year old has your poster hanging on the wall. The New York bureau’s been told to offer you anything you want to get you back in the field.”
    A cold chill fell over him.
    “I’m not going back. Not now. Not ever.”
    Not one to interfere, Sam held out his glass for a shot of his own. “Hey, I’m just the messenger. You stay gone, I stay employed for sure. At least until the next young stud creates a ratings stir.” He swallowed his drink and exhaled loudly. “Did you hear they want you on the next cable special?”
    Donovan shook his head. He didn’t give a damn. He wasn’t going back to the job that had turned out to be