Page 111 of Thaddeus

Dec was pulling into the hotel’s lot when his phone rang. He pushed the button on the steering wheel and the phone connected. “Crenshaw.”

“Declan, Ace. I need a favor.” Beckett “Ace” Morgan cut right to it.

“Sure. Whatcha got?”

“Wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I know Gumby filled you in a little about our last op in Timor-Leste.”

“He did. I heard congratulations are in order,” Declan returned.

“Thanks, appreciate it.” Ace paused before he went on. “There’s a woman, Anaya Baker. She needs some help.”

“Help? Is she missing?”

“Negative. She’s stateside. She works with the Peace Corps. With the civil unrest in the area the aid workers are being advised to leave, most have been forced to evacuate. She’s determined to go back. She’s asked for my help, but obviously my hands are tied. Uncle Sam’s not gonna send me back into a war zone for a favor. She’s desperate, and if I hadn’t seen what’s going on over there firsthand, I wouldn’t be bothering you. I was hoping you could give her a minute of your time? Hear her out?”

“Not sure what I can do, but I’ll listen. Can she meet us at The Del in an hour?”

And there it was, proof positive Declan Crenshaw was not the cold-hearted bastard he liked everyone to believe.

“’Preciate it, man. The lobby?” Ace asked.

“Can’t promise you I can help. We got shit piled high right now and are flying out to Maryland tomorrow. But I’ll hear what she has to say, and if we can’t help, I may be able to point her to someone who can. Any idea what she needs?”

“Before the Peace Corps, she worked five years with missing and exploited children. Let’s just say the shit she saw in Timor-Leste has her tweaked. The orphanages there are jacked. I went to Timor-Leste single and childless. I came home the proud father of three. There’s a reason for that. And if I had the means, and the government would’ve allowed it, I’d be a dad of twenty.”

“That bad?” Declan asked through gritted teeth.

Yeah, cold and heartless my ass. Though hearing Ace talk about the poor conditions of an orphanage would have Dec on edge. After his parents died, he and his sister were separated and sent into foster care. Violet had been adopted early on, Declan had not been. He knew all about the system and how it failed our children. A third-world country would be worse.

“Hellacious,” Ace confirmed.

“One hour, the lobby.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

“See what I can do.”

Declan disconnected and I wanted to laugh. Zane Lewis must’ve been rubbing off on him. Zane was known for always getting the last word in during any conversation.

“Wanna sit in?” he asked.

“Got nothing better to do.”

“See ya in an hour.”

Declan got out, slammed the door to the SUV, and stalked off.

Shit. He was feeling this.

* * *

Dec and I were in the lobby waiting for Anaya Baker to show and his mood had not changed. Maybe this was not a good idea. Unfortunately, I’d seen it time and time again, do-gooders who meant well but often times had unrealistic expectations.

In my experience it was often the wealthy who thought giving soccer balls to the kids in poor African villages could change their circumstances, or by visiting and digging a well somehow the villagers’ lives would be better. However, that wasn’t the case. That new source of water opened the village up to rebels and warlords. A village that might not have otherwise been threatened now had something of value and most times were overtaken and exploited.

It sucked.

It was wrong.