Page 49 of A SEAL's Heart
“We’ve had the figures come in from the auction,” Joel says. “We smashed our target. People paid a lot more than anything was worth, and there were extra donations for the center. It’s enough to get us through the next phase of the build and then some.”
He grins and offers me his hand. “I appreciate what you did, Ed. It’s a tremendous help.”
“And the fundraising page,” pipes up his eldest daughter.
She’s leaning against his pickup with her phone in her hand. She doesn’t even look up from the screen. “One video went viral.”
Joel glances at his daughter. “Donations are rolling in thanks to Dana and her internet magic.”
Dana lifts her gaze from her phone just long enough to roll her eyes. “It’s not magic Dad; it’s just social media.”
I shake Joel’s hand. It’s great to know some good came out of all this.
“There’s still a place for you if you want to stay,” he says.
But I shake my head. I’ve made up my mind. I love Avery, I can admit that to myself now, but that means releasing her is the right thing to do.
“Go wait in the car,” he says to his youngest girl, and she scampers off, flicking her sister’s arm along the way.
Joel takes my arm, and we walk a ways down the street out of earshot of the girls and of Marcus. “I got sight of that report I was telling you about.”
Joel must have pulled some pretty big strings to get intel. He still has contacts on the inside and likes to stay informed. “Jake knew there was a grenade in the hut, Ed.”
I take in what he’s saying and give him a questioning look, wondering how he can know that.
“The eyewitness account from the other operatives say he gave a hand signal just after your radio call, the signal for explosives. He knew what he was walking into, and he went in anyway.
“It means that thing you were worried about, it’s not your fault. Not at all. You did everything right.”
I stop walking and stand stock still. For the last nine months, I’ve lived with the crushing guilt that I’m responsible for Jake’s death. If what Joel says is true, then he heard my radio call.
But then why did he go in knowing there were explosives?
It’s as if Joel has read my mind, or more likely has the same question. “I don’t know why he went in.”
My mind reels. Why would Jake do that?
“One of the guys saw him enter the house, and then there was shouting and the explosion. The blast took out the target.”
But it also took out Jake. Did he sacrifice himself to take down the target?
The scene plays in my mind. The moment I saw Jake move, I darted out of my position to pull him back, and the hut exploded as I reached the door.
The blast threw me back against a tree, and a piece of corrugated iron from the roof bashed into my jaw so hard it dislocated it and destroyed my nerve endings.
I rub my jaw as the old ache flares up.
“We’ll never know why he went in,” Joel says. “But you’re in the clear. He heard you; he passed the message on to the other operatives. And he chose to go in there. Ed, it wasn’t your fault.”
Calm settles over me. I should feel relief, but the report throws up more questions. Why would Jake do that? Why would he walk into harm’s way?
I think about the box of letters Avery and I found in the chest by his bed. My instinct was to burn them. They’re his private letters. But now I’m curious as to what they might reveal about the man whose final actions were either an act of bravery or a stupid mistake.
I glance up to Avery’s window, and I’m sure the curtain twitches.
Joel follows my gaze. “This is confidential, and I won’t be sharing it with the family. They don’t expect to learn the details, and this isn’t something I want to share.”
He claps me on the shoulder. “Did you patch things up with Avery before you leave?”
