by Marlie May
Dear old Dad. If I’d taken bets, I would’ve put my money on the alcohol killing the old bastard, not a brain aneurysm.
I stood outside the door and rubbed my face with hands that shouldn’t be shaking. Only the thud of my heart and my rough breathing broke the quiet on the landing. I felt like a teenager all over again, creeping upstairs to ask my passed-out father for a favor. One I already knew would be denied.
I didn’t know what to expect inside, because I hadn’t opened the door since I arrived back in Maine.
Taking a deep breath, I shoved the door open and glanced around, relieved to see Dad hadn’t overloaded the room with junk like the rest of the house. No alcohol bottles were strewn around, either. Big surprise there. Other than a thick layer of dust, it was almost tidy. The room wasn’t arranged the way Mom had kept it, with patchwork quilts, cross-stitched pictures on the walls, and a china doll sitting on a chair in the corner. Dad must’ve given away Mom’s things, because I hadn’t found them anywhere.
He’d replaced her presence with framed pictures of hunting dogs, a generic bedspread, and simple furniture.
Cleaning the room Dad had died in should’ve been the toughest chore of all, but even in this, my father denied me. Throwing away the last bits of Dad’s life should’ve meant I’d finally evict the man from my life. Yet, Dad had stolen that from me, too.
A spurt of anger ran through me. Why was I pissed off about this? Did I really need more hours of back-breaking labor to make it feel real? I grumbled, acknowledging that Dad had at least made the task easier. Not much personal junk hanging around for me to go through before I called this done. Dad’s possessions were meaningful only for this moment.
A bed, a side table with a lamp, a bureau with drawers vomiting old clothing, and the closet. It was anyone’s guess what was inside there.
Anticlimactic. I doubted I’d find anything of value inside Dad’s private domain. Why had I expected otherwise?
Garbage bag in hand, I crossed the room to the bureau to get started.
Four bags later, I’d stripped the bed and tossed the bedding and Dad’s clothing into the dumpster. I’d removed the dog pictures from the walls and hauled the furniture down to the garage. Chucked the mattress out with the rest of the rubble.
A vacant room stared back at me when I returned upstairs. Only the closet remained. After cleaning it out, I could lock the house, hand the key over to the realtor, and put my crappy existence here behind me.
“Great, more clothes,” I said when I pulled open the door. More garbage bags to haul down the stairs and stuff into the overflowing dumpster.
The empty coat hangers clinked together when I moved them, as if Dad’s ghost played an off-key tune for me alone. I stuffed them against the wall to silence their eerie melody.
On the top shelf, I found a small cardboard box about four inches high and twelve inches long. I slid it forward, bringing with it enough dust to make me sneeze. The box rattled. Must be more knick-knacks Dad had packed away and forgotten about. Taped shut. Scrawled across the top in black marker, Dad had written, For Cooper.
As if he knew I’d find it one day.
I wasn’t sure I had the energy to open it. If I was wise, I’d chuck it into the dumpster and forget about it. But before I decided to break the seal or dispose of it unopened, my phone rang.
Not Ginny this time. She’d called this morning, and I didn’t expect to hear from her again until late tonight.
The call was from California, someone in Bravo Company. Better not be more bad news.
With my arm braced on the wall, I answered. “Yep.”
“Hey, Chief. This is B6. How you doing?”
What was this about? “Doing fine, Lieutenant. You?”
“Could be better, but we all deal, right?”
I grunted. Get to it, B6.
“I know you’re on leave. Sorry to hear about your dad.”
More social niceties. “Thanks.”
“I didn’t just call to chat, though. Senior Chief asked me to communicate something. Get your input.”
“Okay.”
“Things have changed. Kuwait’s out for now but…we need you. There’s somewhere else on the agenda.”
Somewhere else. Loose lips sink ships. Sometimes, I didn’t know my full assignment until the helo dropped me on location.
“It’s our favorite desert destination, but we’ll transport you from there.”
Meaning Bagdad—and beyond. “I’m listening.”
“This is actually TAD.” Temporary Assigned Duty. A brief assignment to fill in for someone who’d been hurt or needed emergency leave. “We need to drop someone in for a short stint.”
“How long’s this one?” I pulled a strand of cobwebs off my head. Must’ve brushed against them when I—
“Twelve days.” B6 cleared his throat. “We’re thinking of sending Chief Mayfield…”
A married friend who had three kids under the age of ten. Absolutely not.
B6 continued, “But we—”
“I’ll go.” I would do anything to prevent another death like Sampson’s.
The Lieutenant’s chuckle burst through the airwaves. “Damn. Lord knows why I took that bet. Senior Chief said you’d be all over this. Now I’m out two movie tickets. I just need your okay.”
What he meant was I had to volunteer. A loose term in the military. “Any deets you can share about the mission?”
“The other Chief was going in behind the Marines to look at infrastructure and put together a plan to get things up and running again. That’s all I can say.”
Probably an ISIS stronghold if the Marines were involved. A dam or a power plant? Either would mean back-breaking work bringing in power for lights, establishing water, supply routes. I’d spend days assessing what the situation needed, making recommendations, and digging into the grunt work until the other assigned Chief could return to duty. All while exposing my back to hostile attention. My spine flinched already.
“You in?” B6 asked.
I stalled and then crapped on myself for my hesitation. What was up with me? I’d never balked at doing anything the military asked before. “Of course, I’m in.” I cleared my tight throat. “Just said I was, didn’t I?”
“I’ll put the papers through right away, then.”
“Sounds good.” Actually, for the first time in my career, it didn’t. The danger might be heightened, but this wasn’t the first unplanned maneuver I’d been asked to take on. Why did I view this one differently? “When do you need me?” Hopefully, it would—
“You need to be on the base within twenty-four hours. You’ll ship out immediately after that.”
Hell, no. I’d thought late next week or the week after that.
I couldn’t leave. Ginny needed me. I still had to convince the sheriff to get serious about Tom. Ginny was scared, worried the other man would hurt her, that—
“Chief?”
No choice. I’d volunteered. If that was what this was called. My approval wasn’t actually needed; it was just a formality. “All set.”
“Right, then. We’ll see you soon.”
I hung up and ditched my phone on the floor. Rubbing my face, I groaned. I didn’t want to leave Ginny, not when we didn’t know what was going on with Tom. And things were unsettled between us. We needed to talk about what we had, if anything. I wanted to find a way to stay together.
To be on the base within twenty-four hours, I’d have to catch a red-eye tonight or a flight first thing in the morning, though I’d cut it close with the latter. That was nowhere near enough time to speak with Ginny, let alone ensure she’d be safe once I left.
What did I think I could do if I stayed in Maine, anyway? Ask Ginny for something she may have no intention of giving? I cursed myself, because I’d been the one to lay down the ground rules. But she’d agreed, which could mean she didn’t want anything more from me than a few days.
Staying here to figure this out meant bailing on my dut
y. The government threw soldiers in military prison for shit like that. How could I consider giving up all I’d worked so hard to achieve?
My buddies overseas needed me. Twelve-years-ago this June, I’d joined the Navy. Because my re-enlistment was coming up, I’d put in my chit already.
The government owned me for another four years.
27
Ginny
I kicked and tried to bite Tom’s arm.
His hot breath rushed past my ear as he struggled to maintain control. He punched me in the lower back, and I gasped. My knees trembled, and tears sprang up in my eyes. The blow hurt bad enough to steal my breath.
“Stop fighting, Laura,” he said. “You’re coming with me.”
“Eli!” I shrieked, struggling to get away. I squirmed, sweat and tears streaming down my face. I had to get free, but Tom’s hold didn’t slip an inch. “Help!”
Where was Eli? Why hadn’t he come to me? Shit. Had Tom hurt my brother? If he was lying somewhere unconscious or worse, I needed to go to him. Get him help.
I made myself go limp, praying I’d slip from Tom’s grasp and fall. Better to give him a dead weight to drag than cooperate. If his hold loosened, I’d run.
He released my neck only long enough to clamp a hand over my mouth, cutting off my screams. His other arm wrapped around my waist, and he started dragging me down the drive. “I don’t know how you got away. How you crawled out of that hole I put you in. But I’m going to make sure you don’t escape this time.”
Crawled out of a hole? Whimpering, I struggled to get away.
He tightened his grip and hauled me along, my sneakers dragging in the dirt. “Let’s you and me go for a little ride, like before.”
He’d killed his wife. Horror burst from my skin, because I knew I was next.
Anger charged through my veins, giving me the will to wrench his hand off my mouth. I lifted my keychain, tilted away from Tom and glared at him. “I’m not Laura!”
He snarled. “Shut up, Laura.”
I shot a stream of police-strength pepper spray at Tom. Filling his face. His mouth. His eyes. I held the plunger down until he released me, my hands stopped shaking, and I regained control of my lungs. His arms dropped away and I staggered backward, my body a wreck from spent adrenaline.
Hands cupping his face, Tom shrieked. He backed away and stumbled. Snot dripping, eyes tearing, he tripped over a log and collapsed. Flopping onto his side, he writhed on the ground.
Some people would’ve run, but I was determined to make sure this threat was taken care of for good. I was sick of Tom thinking he had the right to chase me, drug me, scare me. No longer would I remain passive while he took advantage of me.
What to do about him now? I whipped my head around, looking for something I could use to immobilize him, but saw nothing. My car. Eli had insisted I stock a bag filled with all kinds of things in case I ever broke down. I clicked unlock as I ran toward my car. In the back, I dragged the bag close and dumped everything out onto the rubber mat. A coil of rope. Perfect.
The first piece I cut from the bundle secured Tom’s wrists. I bound them tightly behind his back, making sure he couldn’t wiggle free. While he moaned and sniffled and acted like he was going to die, I grabbed one ankle, then the other. I yanked them together and tied them in a double knot. He wouldn’t slink away this time.
There. Leaving him lying on the ground, I stood. Shivering, I wanted to drop to the ground, curl into a ball, and cry. But I had to find Eli and make sure he was safe.
It was over. Finally. Not just with Tom, but with me, too. I’d conquered my fear and saved myself.
I staggered and nearly fell. A mix of joy and anxiety charged through me.
Skin bright pink from my efforts and my legs a wreck, I raced for the house to look for my brother. At the door, I pulled my phone and called 911. After explaining that someone had tried to kidnap me, the dispatcher promised to send the state police right away. I hung up and put my hand on the doorknob, paralyzed by the fear of what I might find inside. Eli would’ve taken on a T-Rex to save me. Why hadn’t he?
“Please be okay.” Harnessing some strength from deep inside, I swung open the front door.
A large, open living room with a kitchen galley along the back wall greeted me. A loft with a wooden railing stretched across the upper portion of the cathedral ceiling that was highlighted with light racks created from antlers. Rustic furnishings had been placed around the living room, and a moose head stared back at me from above the stone fireplace.
The floorboards creaked when I took a step forward. “Eli?”
Shuffling and muffled groans drew my attention to the sofa sitting along one wall. A long coffee table had been placed in front of it. The table rocked and fell over, revealing Eli lying on the floor behind.
He grunted and peered over his shoulder, his eyes blazing, the color in his face rivaling a volcano’s. A rope encircled his ankles and wrists tight enough his hands had blanched white. Blood dripped from where he’d struggled ineffectively to get free. He wrenched his body back and forth in an effort to loosen his bonds, and his muffled cries slipped from behind the gag wrapped around his head.
I rushed over to him but I couldn’t loosen the rope.
Panic raged in Eli’s expression. He thrashed while I raced to the kitchen for a knife.
Ropes cut, Eli rose to his knees and grabbed me in a bear hug. “You’re okay. I was freaking out with worry. Thought Tom would get you, too.” His head pivoted, and he peered around me. “Where is he?”
“Tom did this?” How? My brother not only outweighed the slighter man but he also had the strength of a thousand lions.
Eli’s eyes cut to the side. “I was asleep on the couch. Somehow, he got inside. Hit me.” He rubbed the back of his head and winced. “Stunned me, then tied and gagged me before I could fight back.”
“Let me look at your head.”
He leaned forward and I parted his hair, finding a big bump that had bled a bit before clotting off. “You could have a concussion. We’ll need to get that looked at as soon as we get home.” Overwhelmed with relief that he was okay, I rested my head on his shoulder. “Tom attacked me outside.”
“Hell, no.” Eli released me and stormed to his feet. He staggered before finding his balance, and I leaped up and grabbed his arm.
“Where is he?” Eli shouted. “I’ll kill him.”
“I pepper sprayed him and tied him up.”
Eyes widening, Eli hugged me again. “Wow.”
“Would you mind checking on the ties for me?” Tremors filled my voice. “I’d hate for him to get loose.”
“Gladly.” His feet unsteady still, Eli rushed outside.
I followed slowly, my legs as unsteady as my brother’s. Reaction was setting in, and I couldn’t stop shaking. Turning back, I collapsed on the sofa. I drew my legs up and wrapped my arms around them and rocked. I couldn’t stop crying.
Eli appeared in the doorway. “You did great, Ginny. I’m proud of you. Of what you’ve done.” He wove across the room and dropped to the cushions beside me. His arm dragged me close, and we sat together in silence until the wail of a siren approached.
I rose and wiped my face with the edge of my tee.
“You okay?” Eli got up and took my hand.
Lower lip wedged between my teeth, I nodded.
We went outside as the police pulled into the drive. Eli stood beside me on the porch, his arm around me, lending me much-needed support. The cop car pulled to a stop beside Tom and officers exited each side of the vehicle and approached him.
We joined them. Tom’s eyes had stopped watering and he no longer moaned. The glare he gave me could’ve impaled me to a tree.
“I’m Officer Riggs,” one of the state cops said. “You two called the police?”
I explained what happened and then elaborated on all that had gone on during the last week, from the boater who’d tried to run me down, to my drugged coffee, to the painted tiles Tom h
ad left for me.
Eli added what happened with Tom before I arrived. “I think he lured me up here solely to draw you out, Ginny.”
“What?” I gasped out.
“I couldn’t reach Jefferson. I think the original call came from Tom, not my friend. It’s been a long time. Makes sense I wouldn’t remember the sound of his voice. And, after I arrived, Tom must’ve disabled my Jeep, leaving me no choice but to call for help. He took a chance I’d call you or maybe he didn’t. If he’s been watching, he knows Mom is away, that my co-worker, Steve’s injured. It was you or Cooper. And if Cooper had come, it would’ve left you vulnerable. His plan was set either way.”
“Clever,” one of the officers said. “People surprise me all the time.” He went to his vehicle for a first aid kit to wrap Eli’s still-bleeding wrists.
“Sounds like this man has been busy,” the other officer said, helping Tom sit up.
Tom growled at me, straining to break free of the ties binding his wrists. “Yeah, I chased you in the woods,” he said. “Even followed you and that asshole to the base, but I didn’t do any of that other shit. You know that, Laura.”
Like he’d admit if he had? Besides…
“I’m not Laura,” I shouted.
“Who’s Laura?” Officer Riggs asked, his penetrating gaze scanning the area. “Anyone else here?”
“Laura was his wife. His dead wife.” I frowned. “I think he was involved in her death.”
The other cop nodded. “We’ll certainly look into it.”
“I wasn’t going to hurt you again, Laura.” Tom whimpered. Tears leaked down his face. “I was just doing what you asked me to. You kept calling, saying you wanted to be with me. Why did you have to sleep with that other man?”
“You might want to shut up right there, buddy.” Office Riggs tightened his hold on Tom’s arm. “You’re incriminating yourself.”
The other policeman cuffed Tom and then cut the ties I’d wrapped around his wrists and ankles. The officer nodded my way. “I assume you want to press charges.”