“Who does?” he asked but didn’t wait for an answer. “I know you’re not a coward, honey, so why don’t you just admit you’re crazy about me? I’ll admit I’m crazy about you, and we can be insane together and call it done.”
She fingered the collar of his shirt. “I did admit I was in for the insanity,” she reminded him. Was there a distinction between that and being crazy about him?
“You did.” He gave her that. “Trouble is you really do consider what’s happening between us insane.” He sounded a little irked by that.
“And you consider it crazy,” she countered. “Which is better or worse?”
He ignored her question and stared at her mouth. “I like you. A lot.”
She smiled. “I like you a lot, too.”
“That’s better.” He touched her chin with his fingertip and then kissed her breathless.
The saving grace was that he was left breathless, too. “Much better.” He grinned. “Ready to dump logic and go for it?” The twinkle in his eye was as enticing as his kiss.
“Getting closer all the time.”
“Now that’s much better,” he said, pulling her closer still, and then kissing her again.
The conference room was cold.
Morgan and Jackson walked in, acknowledged the others with nods, and took the two available seats beside each other, across from Taylor Lee and Jazie. The commander sat at the head of the table, Joan Foster at the foot, and Dr. Vargus on her left, across from an empty seat beside Jackson.
“Everyone knows everyone, so let’s get started,” Commander Drake said. “Dr. Vargus?”
“At Morgan’s request, I took a blood sample from the incarcerated Captain Bruce Stern and ran various tests on it, including his DNA.” The doctor plucked his thin black-frame glasses from his white jacket pocket and eased them onto his nose, then thumped the bridge to seat them into place. “The DNA of the man incarcerated matches the DNA we have on record for Bruce Stern.”
That meant less than nothing since Thomas Kunz had successfully substituted medical records, DNA results, X-rays, and other lab studies into the government’s system in the past. Morgan patiently waited for the test results that could tell them Bruce was actually Bruce: Jackson’s DNA.
“I also ran similar studies on Captain Jackson Stern,” Dr. Vargus said. “His DNA has distinct similarities to that of the incarcerated man, but they are not a perfect match.” He avoided looking at Jackson. “As full blood brothers, they should be.”
Everyone, including Morgan, let his or her gaze drift from the doctor to Jackson. Betrayed and deceived, she asked, “Jackson, what does this mean?”
His expression turned dark and guilt radiated from him, swamping Morgan. “It means what it means, Morgan,” he said sharply, clearly embarrassed and resentful. “Bruce and I are not full brothers, and neither of us ever claimed anything to the contrary.”
Morgan was content to wait and let him explain this in his own way.
The commander wasn’t, and cut to the chase. “Dr. Vargus? What conclusions have you drawn?”
“The two men share a mother, Commander.”
There was nothing about his parents divorcing in his file. In fact, they had remained married until his father’s death, which meant … Oh, hell. His mother had had an affair.
Was that the source of Jackson’s guilt? It couldn’t be. He would have had no control over his mother’s activities. Yet children commonly took on parents’ responsibilities as their own.
Joan Foster cleared her throat. “So Bruce Stern is Bruce Stern.”
“Oh, yes.” Dr. Vargus nodded, giving them affirmation beyond just his words.
“That’s settled then.” Joan Foster stepped in, not looking Jackson’s way, doing what she could to help the uncomfortable moment pass. “The ME hasn’t officially released his report or authorized the release of Laura’s body for burial, but unofficially, he’s told me that she died from a stab wound to the heart.”
“She was stabbed and strangled?” Jackson asked, shock in his voice.
“I’m so sorry, Jackson,” Joan said. “I thought you’d viewed the body.”
“I did,” he said softly. “What was exposed anyway. She was my sister-in-law,” he reminded Joan. “It didn’t seem proper to move the sheet when it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”
“I totally agree,” she said. “I wish I’d been more gentle. I didn’t know …”
He slid her a flat look. “There is no gentle way to say she was stabbed and strangled, Joan, but I appreciate the thought.”
She nodded and then looked down the table at the commander. “Perhaps it would be best to discuss the balance of the ME’s findings privately?”
“No,” Jackson said, then cleared his throat and looked at Commander Drake. “I didn’t realize she’d been stabbed; that’s all. Please, just go ahead.”
The commander sent Joan a look Morgan had no trouble interpreting. Omit the specifics. Everyone except Jackson knew Laura had thirty-one stab wounds, and no good would come from revealing it to him right at the moment.
Joan continued. “There was sufficient skin and blood under Laura’s nails to run a DNA test.”
Jackson stiffened beside her, and Morgan felt the tension coil tightly in him.
“It doesn’t match Bruce’s DNA,” she added quickly, looking at Jackson. “Bruce didn’t attack her.”
Jackson’s expression didn’t change, but Morgan felt the tension drain out of his body and she was grateful for it. At least that was one worry off his mind.
Taylor Lee intervened. “Does anything rule out Bruce stabbing her?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” Joan said. “Without the weapon, we can’t be sure. But we are sure that Bruce is within the killer’s height range—”
“Him and five million other men,” Jazie said. “That doesn’t prove anything.”
“That’s true; it doesn’t.” Joan nodded her agreement. “Both Bruce and the killer are right handed,” she went on, and then hesitated, giving Morgan an apologetic look. “We do know that Bruce is responsible for the bruises on Laura’s upper arms—”
“He’s admitted grabbing her during an argument, Colonel,” Taylor Lee said. “He never meant to leave bruises, of course. Things heated up, and they were both upset. He didn’t realize he’d squeezed her that hard.”
“Was he aware that he’d bruised her?” Drake asked.
“No, he wasn’t,” Jazie said, revealing that both she and Taylor Lee had spoken with Bruce. “Not until we told him.”
Commander Drake twirled her pen between her fingertips. The pad in front of her was blank. “What was his reaction?”
“Remorseful,” Jazie said.
“He was disgusted,” Taylor Lee added. “Genuinely disgusted with himself.”
Morgan was relieved to hear that, and so was Jackson. He rolled his shoulders and sat back in his seat. For the first time since they’d entered the room, he didn’t look as if he wanted to throw up.
Tapping her pen against the paper, Commander Drake let her gaze wander between them. “Does anyone at this table think Bruce killed his wife?”
“I don’t,” Joan Foster said. “Nothing in the findings supports it, Commander.”
Dr. Vargus lifted his hands. “No judgment, but as an observer, I’d have to say no. He’s grieving, Sally. No one knows better than we do that you can’t fake grief—not at that level.”
Morgan agreed.
“In my opinion,” Taylor Lee said, next in line going around the table. “He’s not totally innocent. But he’s not guilty either. It’s tough to explain.”
“Mmmm.” Jazie let out a little moan. “He didn’t do it, Commander,” she said, voicing her opinion. “That much is abundantly clear from … er, the evidence. But I get where Taylor Lee is picking up that he’s not totally innocent.”
Jazie tilted her head. “He feels as if Laura’s death is his fault, not because he was directly involved in her murder, I don’t think. Bu
t maybe because he couldn’t stop it from happening.”
Jackson stared at Jazie in awe and surprise.
“Captain Stern?” The commander addressed Jackson, who was next in line. “Have you formed an opinion on this that you would feel comfortable sharing with us?”
The tension came back in him, and doubled. “Family loyalty would insist I swear he’s innocent,” Jackson said. “But if I said he was, that’s what it would be—loyalty, not fact.” Jackson hated saying the words. It vibrated through him to everyone at the table. “The truth is, I don’t know if he killed her. He loved her. I’m certain of that. But Thomas Kunz and G.R.I.D….” He went silent a second, then added, “Well, right now, Commander, too much remains unexplained. I can’t have an opinion I have any faith in. Not yet.” Jackson swallowed. “Believe me, I wish I could. I would love nothing more than to look you in the eye and tell you I know Bruce is innocent.”
“But …” she prodded.
“But I can’t. I don’t know.” His voice took on a sharp edge. “I don’t believe we have all the questions yet, much less all the answers.”
Morgan watched the commander closely and was taken aback because she wasn’t surprised. Not at all. It was as if she’d expected Jackson to voice uncertainty … and maybe she had. And maybe Morgan should have expected it, too. Jackson loved them both—Bruce and Laura. He would be conflicted. And yet this uncertainty went deeper, into something beyond Morgan’s scope of understanding. She felt it; she just couldn’t identify or explain it because she lacked a frame of reference for it.
“I understand, Jackson,” Commander Drake said. “I don’t think there’s anyone wearing a uniform who doesn’t comprehend the conflict between love for family and dedication to duty. You don’t want to poorly serve either.”
“No, ma’am, I don’t.” He said in a flat tone.
Of course, Morgan thought, feeling easier now that she’d gotten a firm fix on it. Of course.
“Morgan?” Commander Drake dragged a hand through her short, spiky hair. “Your take?”
“He didn’t kill her,” she said simply. “But there is credible evidence that Bruce has a double and we’re not sure which man was where when—though we are certain and now have confirmation that the real Bruce Stern is in the brig—or was when the blood was drawn.”
“He’s on full monitoring now, Morgan.”
She nodded at Darcy. “Glad to hear it.”
“Commander,” Jackson said. “I can verify that Bruce didn’t return home until three weeks ago. I know it for a fact because I met with him in Iraq.”
She propped an elbow on her chair arm and dropped her chin into one palm. “Captain, we’ve just required DNA testing to prove he’s your brother to know for a fact who we have in jail. Can you be absolutely certain it was Bruce and not one of Kunz’s doubles you met with in Iraq?”
“Yes, ma’am, I can.”
“How?”
“His soul’s in his eyes, Commander,” Jackson explained. “Kunz can use surgeons to change a man’s appearance. He can use psychological warfare techniques to manipulate his mind, behavioral modifications to change his habits, and body language and coaching to change his manner of speaking and a thousand other things. But nothing Thomas Kunz or a hospital full of doctors can do can change what’s in a man’s soul. It hasn’t been mapped by mortals. And Bruce wears his soul in his eyes. He has his whole life.”
Jazie was impressed by that insight. Taylor Lee was skeptical of it. Morgan was enthralled by it and fascinated by the man who thought in those terms, and she was more certain than ever that Jackson possessed elevated attunement and intuitive skills, though he’d likely call them well-honed gut instincts.
“Well, it happens that you’re right, Captain,” Commander Drake said. “I’ve gone up the chain of command with our dilemma on this and, while the powers that be resolutely refuse to disclose specifics, they have verified that Bruce returned from Iraq three weeks ago.”
“Now this is bizarre,” Joan Foster said, eyes flashing with questions. “Kunz had Bruce’s double here with Laura instead of in the field gathering intelligence?” She sat back and rested her hands on her distended stomach. “How very, very bizarre.”
Colonel Drake frowned. “So far as we know, it’s another first. Any insight you can share, Joan …”
“A double inserted with a spouse is totally outside anything I’ve seen,” she said. “There can be only one reason, Commander. Bruce wasn’t Kunz’s target.”
Shock rippled around the table. “Are you saying Kunz was after Laura?”
“Yeah, I am.” Joan nodded to punctuate her claim. “The double was after intelligence, but not from Bruce. From Laura.”
“Be patient with me,” the commander said. “I’m trying to wrap my mind around this.” She lifted a finger. “Kunz wanted intelligence information Bruce had shared with Laura? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I won’t go that far speculating,” Joan said. “I will say I think Kunz wanted something from Laura. Whether it was intelligence from Bruce or something separate from him, I have no way of knowing. But I do know Thomas Kunz, and, traditionally, he tortures or kills family members to force information from the source. He targets the source, not secondary people. I’ve never known him to accept intelligence from anyone other than a direct source. Unless something significant has changed, he put the double with Laura because he wanted something from her.”
Jackson looked at Morgan, his puzzlement expanding, filling the distance between them. “What could Laura possibly know that Kunz would consider that important?”
“Let’s speculate after we’ve heard all the facts,” the commander said. “What else do we know, Morgan?”
She related events from the Stern residence, the fact that the Jeep had been removed from her garage and rigged with seven explosive devices, and then the issue of the coins. However, she didn’t mention Laura’s having the opportunity to plant the one found in her shoe. If Jazie or Taylor Lee picked up on anything about that, it would be more valuable to the S.A.T. team if it came unsolicited. It was also an opportunity to test their skills, which they were encouraged to do whenever possible.
Morgan put the two evidence bags on the table. “One was found at the Stern residence. The other in mine.”
Jazie reached for the bag on the left.
Taylor picked up the one on the right.
Morgan waited a long tense moment and then added, “Darcy identified them as actual currency predominately used in an island chain in the South Pacific.”
“Laura,” Jazie said.
Taylor Lee nodded her agreement. “There’s no evidence G.R.I.D. was inside your house?”
“No, there isn’t.” Morgan’s nerves jangled. Jackson didn’t know about the team’s special abilities and she would prefer he not learn about them here. Discovering Laura had been stabbed and strangled, he’d already suffered enough shocks in this meeting. “Just in the garage,” she said.
“Laura wanted you to find this,” Jazie said.
“We’ve surmised that,” Morgan said. “But we’re not sure why, though we found some film in her camera—the coin found at her home was positioned on top of the camera, right, Jackson?”
He nodded. “When I picked the camera up from the closet shelf, the coin fell off it and onto the floor.”
“We’re hoping,” Morgan continued, “that whatever is on the film will offer some answers as to why the coins are significant.”
“Where’s the film?” the commander asked.
“At the base lab being processed,” Morgan said, adjusting her cuff. “They’ll have prints ready in about thirty minutes. Darcy will get secure digitals within the hour.”
“All right.” Commander Drake set her pen down, then braced her hands on the tabletop. “Anything else?”
Jazie addressed the group. “Darcy and I have been coordinating on the G.R.I.D. assassins. We had a possible sighting on Stick—”
“The one w
ith the shaved head?” Dr. Vargus asked and then motioned to his jacket front. “Expensive dresser?”
“Stick’s the big, bald bruiser, Merk’s the nerd, and Payton is the business exec,” Jazie said, giving the doc a quick recap. “A car rental agency said a man offered to pay her triple the standard rates for a car. She thinks it was Stick, but couldn’t be positive.”
“There are no rentals available anywhere in the three surrounding counties,” Jackson said.
“True, Commander,” Morgan said. “My mechanic had to get me one from his private stock.” She turned to Jackson. “Who owns the blue truck you’ve been driving?”
“I borrowed it from a guy at the marina,” Jackson said. “We were eating breakfast together when I called you this morning. He picked up on the emergency, and we traded. He’s holding the keys to the Sunrise and hoping, I’m sure, I never return.”
“I checked out two dozen clubs last night,” Taylor Lee said. “No sign of the G.R.I.D. men in any of them.”
So much for Taylor Lee’s dancing for the sake of dancing. Morgan should have known. Taylor Lee loved to party, but loved her work even more.
“Okay, then. Thanks, everybody. Keep at it on all fronts, and report details as you get them.” Sally Drake stood up and then left the table.
Morgan issued her team a few secondary orders. “Jazie, you keep working the local aspect. Hotels, restaurants … Even G.R.I.D. assassins have to sleep and eat.”
“You got it.”
“Taylor Lee, dig into Bruce and Laura’s finances. See if her spending was in line with their assets. And if she did any traveling while Bruce was in Iraq, I want to know it.”
Those phone calls to Jackson every Saturday from somewhere other than Laura’s own phones gnawed at Morgan and had to be explained.
“If we can do anything here, just say the word,” Joan told Morgan.
“Absolutely,” Dr. Vargus added, then looked at Jackson. “I realize you have a lot going on right now, but I think Bruce would really appreciate a few minutes of your time.”
Vicki Hinze - [War Games 04] Page 19