Blades of Bluegrass

by D. Jackson Leigh

  The ridiculousness of the situation gave Teddy a few seconds to collect her thoughts. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and grabbed a tissue to wipe her nose. “Yes, Rachel. I do need some help, if you don’t mind.” She fished her car keys from her uniform pocket. “This is Jill. She’s a friend of Captain Story.”

  “Oh.” Rachel looked back at Jill, her expression going from guard dog to confused. “Captain Story called a friend and got me a good job at a local gun range.”

  Jill nodded. “Big heart, that one.”

  Rachel nodded but scowled. “So why are you in here yelling?”

  Jill narrowed her eyes, so Teddy jumped in before another argument started.

  “Because there’s been a misunderstanding, Rachel. I won’t go into detail because it’s personal, but I’ve hurt Captain Story’s feelings badly, and Jill was just defending her best friend.” She handed her car keys to Rachel. “Could you go with Jill? She’s brought some things I left at Captain Story’s farm, and I need them transferred from her truck to my car.” She pointed to the kitten. “I don’t think I’ll be able to get him back in the carrier right now, and I don’t trust the terror in my office alone.”

  “Sure. I can do that for you.”

  “Thanks. And Rachel?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Jill really is a friend. I’d be very upset if she was harmed in any way.”

  Rachel grinned. “Gotcha. Hands off.”

  Jill smirked. “Really?”

  “Jill, look at me.” Teddy gave Jill a very serious stare. “Do not aggravate Rachel. She might look small, but she’s an expert killer. Among army snipers, she’s in the top five for number of kills. She’s in the top ten among all US government snipers, including armed services, FBI, CIA, and a few the public doesn’t know about.”

  Jill looked at Rachel with new respect. “No fooling?”

  “Even better with this new hand. I can lay a M-24 barrel in this hand, and it’s rock steady.”

  Jill touched the hand. “Wow. That’s really cool. Is that what Britt’s going to end up getting?”

  Rachel shrugged. “I think so.”

  Teddy closed her door again and slumped into her chair as Jill and Rachel disappeared around the corner, chatting like new friends. The kitten had stopped shaking and purred in her ear, rubbing his face against her ear.

  Her cell phone rang, the caller ID indicating it was the lawyer.

  “Elizabeth, hey. Thanks for calling me back.”

  The conversation was to explain the subpoena and that Teddy had no idea what they wanted her to testify about, but she hadn’t told her superiors about the subpoena. To explain why, she had to tell about Britt and the army’s underhanded manipulations to prevent her from testifying at some Congressional hearing. No, Teddy didn’t know if it was the same hearing as the one she was being called to. It was all so very complicated.

  “This is very intriguing. I’ll be glad to represent you.”

  Teddy hesitated. “There’s just one thing. I don’t have a lot of money, and I imagine your hourly billing is pretty high.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Honey, if this is the Elsbeth hearing I think it is, I’d do this pro bono just for the publicity. But a lot of groups are sponsoring representation for those who do come forward and testify, so you don’t have to worry about that. This won’t cost you a penny.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  “I’ll be in touch, but Teddy?”

  “Yes?”

  “I have to advise you to stay away from your friend Britt until I find out if she’s also testifying. We don’t want to hurt your testimony or hers by having the media report that you might have been collaborating.”

  That empty pit in her chest opened wider. “Don’t worry. No chance of that.”

  The kitten hopped down to her lap and stared up at her while he kneaded her stomach and purred. Tears filled her eyes again. Damn, would this hollow feeling in her chest ever go away? Would she ever stop crying?

  A soft paw patted at a tear that was making its way down her cheek, and she looked down to stroke his silky fur. “I really need to give you a name.” She picked him up and kissed his head while he batted at her face. Then she set him on the desk to play while she turned back to her computer. Britt had blocked her phone calls and texts, so she’d probably blocked her emails, too. She could try.

  She typed a quick email: Please let me talk to you. She hit send.

  If this doesn’t work…the email bounced right back as unable to deliver. Her tears threatened again.

  “What am I going to do? I can’t visit. I can’t call. I can’t text. I can’t email.” She frowned when the kitten batted a pencil into her lap. She opened her desk drawer and started to put the pencil away when another item dropped into her lap. A letter from her mother, who loved to write old-fashioned letters rather than email or call on the phone. Or visit. That was it. She’d write a letter. Of course, Britt could throw it away without opening it, but she had some ideas for that.

  “You’re a genius, my little friend,” she said to the kitten. “I’m going to name you…” She was about to say Einstein, but then she saw the fuzzy dice one of her clients had given her to hang from her rearview mirror. The kitten lay on his side, wrestling with the soft, oversized dice with his feet. The dots facing her on the dice added up to seven, her lucky number. “Seven,” she said. “Your name is Seven.”

  The kitten sprang to his feet and sent the dice rolling across the desk when he leapt to the floor as Rachel opened the door and tossed Teddy’s keys to her. “Hey, look what that cat just rolled.”

  Sure enough, face up, the dice added up to seven.

  “That’s his name,” Teddy said, producing a real smile for the first time all day. “Lucky Seven.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Britt paced the room nervously. Congressional hearings weren’t like court hearings. She could have watched Teddy’s testimony on the television in her father’s office, but she didn’t want it to possibly affect her testimony.

  Four long weeks had passed with the media dredging up speculation and every angle possible once the witness list became public record and the hearings began. She could barely leave the farm, so Marianne sent video of Home from War with weekly updates.

  Four long weeks, and she still missed Teddy more than she’d ever missed her left arm. Every minute of every hour of every day. Her heart had nearly thumped out of her chest the day she’d ripped open the plain, long envelope addressed to Story Hill Farm with no return address and found Teddy’s letter addressed to her inside. She held onto it all day, arguing with herself about whether to open it or throw it away. Finally, she’d saddled Mysty and ridden to the highest hill on the farm and read it.

  Teddy explained in the letter that she hadn’t known about the hearing until General Banks showed up the afternoon after they came back from Louisville. And she didn’t know until the next day that she’d been subpoenaed to the same hearing. But she had known one thing for certain that morning when they’d left Louisville. She was wrong when she thought she’d never fall in love with another woman after Shannon, because she’d fallen hard for Britt. She’d asked two things.

  Let me know that you read this letter. If you feel the same, wait for me.

  Britt addressed a plain white envelope to Capt. Theodora Alexander at the hospital and put a single sheet of ornate Story Hill Farm stationary inside. On it she wrote in careful cursive, “I’m waiting.”

  Teddy had testified yesterday, and whatever she’d said had stirred a media storm. Her face was everywhere—on televisions in the hotel bar and the hotel gym, in newspapers, and on websites. It took everything in her to turn away from them all.

  Britt would testify today, then go find Teddy. She had waited long enough.

  Sen. Brock Story strode into the room. “Ready?”

  Britt took a deep breath. “Ready to get it over.”

  He clasped her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “I am so sorry
I was such a self-important ass and nearly chose a friend—one I apparently didn’t know as well as I thought—over my family. I might have never come to my senses if you and Pop hadn’t filed court actions to keep me away from you and the farm.”

  Britt hugged the man who was both her senator and her father—a man who had ultimately stepped up and done the right thing.

  He’d gone straight to Teddy, then to Colonel Winstead and learned that George had tried to order Teddy to prostitute herself to cover his ass and had threatened to shut down a project that would benefit handicapped soldiers, civilians, and the army if he didn’t get the coverup he wanted.

  Then, he’d followed Teddy’s advice to write a letter to her and Pop, and they’d had the restraining orders against Teddy and her dad lifted. Brock came to the farm and made amends. Teddy stayed away until she and Britt could testify.

  Britt released him and stepped back to straighten her uniform again. “You’re here now, Dad, and I’m really glad. I’d rather be staring down a gun barrel than facing all those cameras.”

  “Relax. You’re a friendly witness for this panel. They want to hear what you’re here to tell them. Just watch out for the neckless guy on the end. Senator Mitchell.” He brushed a bit of lint from her uniform and pulled his handkerchief out to polish the new major’s insignia on her shoulders.

  Today was the last day she’d wear the uniform. At midnight, she would be a civilian again. He took her hand and tucked it in the crook of his arm to lead her through the maze of hallways to the hearing room. The closer they got to their destination, the more crowded the hallway was. Cameras began to flash as they passed.

  When they reached the double doors to the hearing room, he stopped and stepped back to salute her. “I’m so proud to be your father, Major Story. Go kick some ass.”

  “Sir.” She returned his salute, even though he was no longer in the service. “You aren’t coming in?”

  “I’ll be upstairs in the gallery. I thought Captain Alexander would like some company. She’s saving me a seat.”

  “Teddy’s here?” Britt’s stomach did a double flip-flop. She was going to throw up for sure.

  “Steady. She’ll be to your right, on the second row and close to the end. You won’t even have to turn your head much to see her.”

  Britt nodded. “Okay.” As she watched her father go, she felt another hand on her arm.

  Her friend and attorney, Renee, smiled. “They’re ready for us.”

  Britt followed Renee to the witness table, where they settled in, and an aide adjusted their microphones.

  “These are directional mics,” he instructed. “If you want to talk privately, just cover yours with your hand like this.” He cupped his hand over the end of the microphone.

  After going through the usual “state your name” routine, Senator Elsbeth began the questioning.

  “Major Story, you were in command of the unit in which Corporal Jessica Avery was assigned.”

  “Yes, I was.”

  Senator Elsbeth held out some stapled papers to an aide and pointed for him to hand them to Britt. “Is this a copy of the report you filed on the incident Corporal Avery reported on June 2, 2018?”

  Britt accepted the papers and scanned them. “Yes. It is.”

  “Can you summarize it for the committee?”

  “I was awakened at approximately oh-three-hundred by a call from the military-police sergeant on duty and informed that Corporal Avery was in his office filing a report saying three men had sexually assaulted her when she went to the latrine around twenty-two-hundred. I dressed and personally interviewed her after I made sure she received proper medical attention from a female physician and female nurses or medics.”

  Senator Elsbeth looked up from the report Britt was referencing. “Excuse my interruption, but how did Corporal Avery appear to you when you first saw her?”

  “Appear?”

  “What was her physical and emotional state?”

  Britt wanted to grind her teeth as images of that night flashed before her eyes. “She was curled into a fetal position on a wood bench while male soldiers came and went from the room. Her T-shirt was ripped down the front, so that she had to hold it closed with her hands. Her face was swollen and bruised. She had multiple abrasions and small cuts on her arms, legs, and face. She had clearly resisted and been beaten. Her pants were gone and her underwear bloody.”

  “What did you do when you saw that?”

  Red lights began to flash up and down Britt’s prosthetic hand, and then it went completely dark. Great. She should have kept it in her lap. Now she wouldn’t be able to move it until she calmed down.

  “Major Story?”

  Britt licked her lips. “I took my shirt…I had a T-shirt underneath…and I covered her. Then I reprimanded that duty sergeant, wrote down the names of the officers responsible for him, took custody of Corporal Avery, and transported her to the medical unit.”

  Senator Elsbeth’s eyes glinted like dark shards of glass. “I hope your reprimand was harsh, Major Story.”

  “That reprimand was brief. My priority was to get medical aid for Corporal Avery. She had been found and brought in by a female MP on patrol around twenty-three-hundred hours. She had been on that bench until I was notified more than four hours later.”

  A moan came from the gallery, and Britt glanced up to see Julie Prescott, Corporal Avery’s sister who had visited Britt before to ask her to testify, weeping. Britt’s father, who was sitting beside Julie, wrapped his arm around her and murmured something in her ear and handed her his handkerchief. Britt’s eyes immediately tracked to Brock’s other side. Teddy. She was as beautiful as the first day she’d stepped into Britt’s world, soothed the pain in her arm, and ultimately healed the wound in her heart.

  Senator Elsbeth leaned toward her microphone, fury etched across her face, so Britt hurried to continue.

  “I did return later to discuss the issue with the duty sergeant. I’m pretty sure the man defecates through two rectums now.”

  Senator Elsbeth smiled and sat back in her chair. “Please continue, Major Story. What happened at the hospital?”

  “I requested a female physician but was told the only doctors on duty were male. One was operating on a mess-hall cook who’d nearly cut his thumb off chopping up chickens. The other doctor was removing a vibrator from another soldier’s rectum that some men in his unit thought would be funny to insert while the guy was passed out drunk.”

  Titters ran through the audience and media covering the hearing.

  “I also was told that rape kits had not been a priority on the clinic supply list, so they had none.”

  Senator Mitchell, the one her father had warned her to watch, cleared his throat. “Your report indicates a rape kit was, in fact, completed.”

  “While we waited, a female physician showed up. She wasn’t scheduled for duty, but one of the nurses called her and explained our case. This was not her first deployment, so she was familiar with how clinics at the smaller bases were stocked. Her husband, also an army doctor, had shipped a box of rape kits directly to her. She and the nurse who called her were experienced in working with sexual-assault victims. I turned Corporal Avery over to them for processing. And I filed my report, naming Private Dirk Smallwood as the man she identified as her rapist. She didn’t know the other men, who had held her down. She said they got scared because she was bleeding when he was done and ran off when he offered for them to be next. She said Private Smallwood was the only one who beat and raped her.”

  Britt felt her prosthesis vibrate as it rebooted and came back online.

  “And Private Smallwood was arrested after you filed your report?”

  “Yes. But he was charged only with assault, then released from the brig two days later and returned to duty.”

  Senator Elsbeth removed her reading glasses and put down the report. “I’m sorry. I thought I heard you say he was returned to duty.”

  “Yes. In the same unit a
s Corporal Avery. Smallwood identified the two men who were with him, and they testified that Corporal Avery had consensual sex with him.”

  “How did they explain her beating?”

  “Jessica was a lesbian, married to another soldier in the mechanics unit at the same base. Smallwood claimed that she was curious about men, then scared that her wife would know what she’d done when she bled after intercourse. She asked him and his pals to mess her up a little. They didn’t like it, but they did it because she kept telling them to hit her again. It was his word against hers, even though the doctor’s report detailed vaginal trauma typical of rape.”

  “And what did you do when he was returned to duty?”

  “First I gave orders that they should always be put on separate patrols and separate duty rosters. And I assigned him to clean latrines several times when I caught him making inappropriate gestures to her when they crossed paths in the mess hall or around the base. I asked her group of friends and some of the male soldiers I trusted to keep an eye on her and Smallwood. There are many more good, honorable men serving their country than there are deviants like Smallwood.”

  “Still, on the day she was killed, Corporal Avery was assigned to the same patrol as Private Smallwood.”

  “Yes. Allow me to backtrack a bit. The rape kit disappeared. It was logged as leaving in the outgoing mail, addressed to Landstuhl Medical Center for processing, but it never was logged in as arriving. The evidence was lost.”

  The red lights in her prosthetic hand began to flicker again, and Britt paused to take a couple of deep breaths to calm her mind. The lights stopped.

  “Corporal Avery was growing more and more withdrawn from everyone. I blame myself for not transferring her out for a mental evaluation, but that kind of thing is a blot you never get off your record. Even after you leave the military.” Britt took a sip of water from her glass to collect herself. “I spent weeks going up the chain of command about this case and the overall lack of safety for women soldiers among their own troops. Many hovered on the edge of dehydration because they wouldn’t drink water after a certain time, fearing they’d wake up and need to go to the latrine after dark. Walking to the latrine at night isn’t safe for women.”