“I’ll see you in a bit,” Aubree said. “I’m so sorry all of this happened.”
“It’s not your fault. Now don’t worry yourself anymore. I’m glad to be with you.” Madeline carried the baby blanket she had been crocheting with her as she exited the room.
Edwards sat in the folding chair Madeline had occupied. “I wanted to tell you that the FBI has taken a major interest in this case. You’ll be seeing a lot more agents and the local police will still help, but Officer Haskins and Detective Rawlings probably won’t be around much.”
“Oh.” Aubree felt disappointed she wouldn’t be seeing Officer Haskins’ kind face anymore. Agent Edwards rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, and Aubree stared at the tattoo winding around his arm. The flame was dark orange against his tanned forearms. The hair on his arms and head was sun bleached. She glanced at his green eyes, absent of smile lines. He was all business, and Aubree wished she could escape from the details of her case.
A shadow flickered back and forth across the room, and she glanced at the window. The shade was pulled halfway, and she could see tree branches swaying in the wind, interrupting the dull light of her room.
Agent Edwards rubbed his thumb against the edge of his notebook; the shuffling sound seemed to keep time with Aubree’s nervous heart rate. She glanced at the pile of green file folders in his lap and then back at him.
He opened his mouth, closed it again, and cleared his throat. “Everything I tell you has to be kept in strict confidence. You will not share any information with your mother, and you should know your room is under surveillance.”
“As in video?”
“And microphone,” Edwards said. “It’s not because we don’t trust you—that’s how the room is set up in this facility.”
Aubree tried not to feel defensive, but she was failing. “So I’m basically being held here like a criminal?”
“No, this is the CBI, remember? I want you to understand that everything you are going through is for your protection.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s for my own good.” She looked toward the window again, wishing that she could enjoy the sunshine on a carefree day.
Edwards furrowed his brow. “As a matter of fact, it is. The case you’re involved in has been upped to a level of national security.”
“What!” Aubree sat up straighter in her chair and bumped her drink on the meal table. Edwards caught it before it spilled.
“I can’t believe what a mess I’m in.” She put her head in her hands and took a deep breath.
Edwards tapped the files with his fingers and cleared his throat again. He rubbed his hand over his hair, which was cut nearly to a buzz. He met her gaze, and now she noticed worry lines around his eyes.
“Last night we placed a decoy in your home to see if anyone came around. But no one did. By this afternoon, when no one had even driven by your house, we were beginning to feel like maybe we’d overreacted.” Edwards held up his hand before Aubree could agree. “But then we discovered the identity of the person we found in the manhole.”
Aubree’s shoulders slumped. “So because of who this person is, I’m still not safe?”
“Yes. The identity of this person has us worried about the funeral tomorrow and your safety.”
“Can you tell me who it was?” She clasped her hands together.
“That has to do with this briefing. We found him because of the information you gave us.”
“His uniform?”
“We collected information on all missing persons in the last twenty-four hours and narrowed it down to only those who wore a uniform of some kind.” Edwards flipped open a file and showed her a picture of a huge naval aircraft carrier.
Aubree leaned forward and examined the photo. “The USS Midway?”
“So you’ve been there?”
“Devin and I went last summer.” Aubree winced when she said Devin’s name, but she let the memory wash over her. They had spent a few hours at the retired aircraft carrier-turned-museum in San Diego Bay. It had been exciting to see inside a real aircraft carrier because her dad had served in the navy. Dozens of cramped stairwells winding throughout the belly of the carrier had made the deck of the Midway even more appealing when they had climbed to the top of the sun scorched airstrip.
“But they don’t have uniforms there, do they?” Aubree tried to remember, but she didn’t think the retired naval officers who had helped guide some of the tours had all looked the same. It was a busy place, though. She remembered hearing that the flagship of Desert Storm had about three million tourists per year.
Edwards pulled out a few more pictures of the Midway. “No, several of the guides wear the same hats and a polo shirt with USS Midway emblems, but the uniformed person missing was head of the night security watch.” He tapped his foot and looked at Aubree. “We wondered why anyone would feel the need to murder a security guard at a popular tourist attraction. Then we realized it may coincide with a special visit from the secretary of defense. He’s planning on visiting the naval carrier on Friday—that’s tomorrow.”
“How would killing a security guard get them close to the secretary of defense?” Aubree rubbed the back of her neck. “Are you sure my case is connected to all of this and not to Devin’s gambling?”
“We asked the same question. And we’ve come to the conclusion that Devin’s gambling didn’t have anything to do with his murder.” Edwards opened his briefcase and took out a few files. “Remember how I told you one word could be very important from the conversation you heard?”
Aubree nodded.
“You heard the word intruder, which by itself was a bit puzzling, but when we added it to the security guard at the USS Midway, we came up with something different.”
Edwards pulled out a map that displayed airplanes of different shapes and sizes and pointed to a picture of a jet. “This is an A-6 Intruder on the flight deck of the USS Midway. It sits right in front of the Island Superstructure, the tower housing the bridge and primary flight control.”
“I remember climbing up there during the tour to see all the controls,” Aubree said. They had waited twenty minutes for their tour. The inside of the tower was hot, and Aubree recalled wiping sweat from her forehead and fanning herself with a map of the Midway.
“Secretary of defense, Robert Walden, will be delivering an address in front of the Island Superstructure tomorrow. He’ll be standing next to the A-6 Intruder.” Edwards tapped the picture, and Aubree’s breath caught in her throat. The voice from the phone call repeated in her mind: The Intruder will clear the way.
Edwards lowered his voice and continued. “We called in our police dogs and, in conjunction with the bomb squad, they discovered an explosive hidden in the Intruder on the deck of the ship.”
Aubree covered her mouth for a moment before speaking. “They were going to assassinate the secretary of defense? But why?”
Now Edwards didn’t look so confident. “We don’t know yet. Perhaps it was some left-wing, anti-war group. We’re searching the chatter to see if any organizations are discussing plans involving the secretary of defense.”
“I think I did hear something about him coming. A lot of people will be there, right? Is he still going to come?” Aubree asked.
Edwards nodded and rapped the file folders with his knuckles. “They’re taking all threats into consideration, but I think he’ll still give a speech. The Secret Service would’ve swept the entire carrier before his arrival, but I doubt they would’ve found the bomb in time without this lead. It took hours to find and dismantle it.”
“So you’ve foiled their plan. I should be safe now, right?” Aubree gave him a hopeful glance.
Edwards chewed on his bottom lip and shook his head. “We don’t know why they wanted to kill him. We don’t know who they are. You aren’t safe yet.” He touched her arm gently. “I want you to know we aren’t going to put you in even the smallest degree of danger. Every loose end has to be tied up, and until then, you’ll b
e in protective custody. There’s a good chance this is why they killed Devin and Tidmore, but we’ll have to wait and see.”
Aubree swallowed hard and blinked back tears. “Okay.”
“That’s all you need to know right now. Try to get some rest.” Edwards stood and walked to the door. He paused before he turned the handle as if he were going to say more, but then he sighed. Aubree watched the door close behind him and listened to the clock ticking again.
Agent Jason Edwards walked down the hall of the private facility. He hadn’t told Aubree Stewart everything, because he didn’t want to scare her into a state of shock. He didn’t tell her she definitely was not safe in the slightest degree or that he was more worried for her life than he let on. Because now he had a suspicion he couldn’t shake.
Her house had been too quiet—no one had come by. Even with the decoy in plain sight, no one had visited. No one had tried to delve into her personal identity; the FBI had used special Internet tracking programs to trace all of her online accounts. He was pretty sure he knew the reason. No one had tried to check up on Aubree Stewart because whoever was behind this plot already knew exactly where she was and everything about her.
SEVEN
HOW CAN THE SUN shine today? Aubree thought. The black dress stretched tightly over her body, soaking up the heat. The back of her neck beaded with sweat. Murmurs of comfort from others were muffled by the anxiety she felt.
Devin’s funeral was sparsely attended because of the FBI’s stipulations. Aubree knew it would’ve been that way anyway, because she and Devin didn’t have many close connections in San Diego. Some of their neighbors came, but they didn’t know Devin very well. All the same, Aubree was grateful for the support. Madeline stayed close to her side the entire time, fielding uncomfortable questions and keeping the visits to a minimum.
Though the whole ordeal only took a few hours, it felt like days to Aubree. The fear for her future was a distraction from the pain, and she couldn’t concentrate on the changing tide of her life. She felt like a dishcloth that had been wrung out too many times, the fabric thin with fraying edges.
When Edwards escorted Aubree and Madeline to the cemetery, she noticed several undercover agents filtering through the crowd with earpieces trailing down their shirt collars. The sun illuminated the bright white of the lilies on Devin’s casket, but in a few hours they would be wilting from the heat—they would resemble the state of her life.
When she returned to the private care facility, the halls were quiet, and Aubree felt like she was walking through a fog. Madeline hugged her and rubbed her aching back. “It’s probably best if you rest now, dear.”
“I know, Mom, but I feel so empty,” Aubree said. “I tried to pay attention—to absorb these last details of Devin, but my mind kept wandering to everything he’s going to miss. Everything I’m going to miss.”
“I did the same thing at your father’s funeral.” Madeline squeezed her daughter’s shoulders. “It’s tough, and there’s no way around it, but after a time I came to realize he would want me to be happy.”
Aubree shook her head fiercely. “How will I ever be happy? My life is over! I don’t even know when I’ll be able to see you again.”
Madeline put a hand on Aubree’s stomach. “Your life is just beginning. I know you can’t do it now, but before this baby is born, you have to give yourself permission to feel joy again. In so many ways, my life began when I became a mother. Devin wouldn’t want you to cheat yourself from happiness, and he would want you to be happy for this child.”
“I don’t know what to do.” Aubree held tightly to her mom and tried to find comfort in the embrace.
“Sweetie, I don’t know what you’re going to do either. But I do know it will work out. You’re so much stronger than me, and I’m so proud of you.” She squeezed Aubree tighter. “I love you.”
Aubree slept fitfully for most of the afternoon, and Madeline did her best to keep her comfortable. When the nurse brought in supper, she also turned on the television.
“Agent Edwards said you might want to see this.” She found the station she was looking for and then left the room.
Aubree stared at the gigantic berth of the USS Midway on screen. A television reporter spoke about the history of the aircraft carrier and the importance of the visit taking place within the hour.
Pretty much every airplane the aircraft carrier had ever held and then some was on deck. The reporter talked about F-14 Tomcats, C-1 Traders, FA-18 Hornets, T-2 Buckeye and others Aubree didn’t recognize. The Midway had experienced a forty-seven–year odyssey that spanned the end of World War II to Desert Storm before it became the first museum of its kind.
The reporter said something about Secretary Walden’s visit, and Aubree noticed the large crowds of people on deck as she listened. “He will be speaking about the need to continue ridding the world of nuclear weapons and about a special military-grade fuel to be produced by new ethanol plants.” The reporter motioned to the podium. “He’s been working closely with the secretary of agriculture on the new ethanol program, and they hope to launch it next year.”
“So, it couldn’t be an anti-war group—they’d support him,” Aubree mumbled.
“What was that, dear?” Madeline asked.
“Oh, nothing. Just thinking about when Devin and I visited the Midway.”
“I remember you telling me about that. Your father would’ve enjoyed it.” Madeline smiled at Aubree and then continued writing in the notebook she had been scribbling in for the past hour. Aubree wasn’t sure what her mom was doing but figured it had something to do with their impending separation.
Edwards had informed them that Aubree would be entering protective custody in a different location within the next week and that their time would be limited. For the thousandth time, she wished her mother could be there when the baby was born. Maybe they could find a way for Madeline to visit a secure location.
Aubree’s attention was brought back to the TV when the secretary of defense stood up. She could see part of the wing of the Intruder overshadowing him. He spoke clearly into the microphone,
“Most of you know I’ve come to talk today about nuclear weapons, but I also wanted to introduce the latest plans we are working on for a greener earth and a greener economy. The Pentagon reports that the Department of Defense burns through three hundred thousand barrels of oil a day to function. We need to cut back on the use of foreign oil and rely on our own natural resources. Our nation has the capability to create cleaner, more efficient fuel sources.”
The secretary of defense paused and looked out over the crowd, and then his brow furrowed. Aubree watched the screen and noticed a scuffle near some of the spectators. The camera changed views to show several people running, and then Aubree heard loud noises. Screaming and a quick report of gunfire sounded in the background. The camera was zooming in and out erratically.
“Was that a gunshot?” Madeline jumped from her chair and stood closer to the TV as Aubree turned up the volume.
Mass confusion erupted on the deck of the Midway. The reporter tried to speak as she was jostled about by people running in a panic. Police officers and FBI agents swarmed the crowds, and Aubree noticed several dogs wearing police vests. The footage cut out, and it took a few minutes for the local news station to connect with the reporter on deck again.
Aubree held her breath when the camera focused in on the reporter. The woman had moved away from the confusion. Her hair fell around her face, and her makeup was smeared. She spoke rapidly and gripped the microphone with white fingers.
“There has just been an assassination attempt on Secretary Walden. We’ve been told that a man forced his way through the security checkpoints, firing semi-automatic weapons and killing two police officers. Shots were fired here, the gunman was killed, but Secretary Walden has been shot.” The reporter looked at the crowd dispersing, and the cameraman attempted to find a good angle for the television viewers to witness the chaos.
&
nbsp; Aubree and Madeline watched paramedics and other officials scrambling on deck as crowds of people tried to exit the Midway. Aubree’s stomach churned with anxiety. The criminals had still tried to carry out their plan to destroy Robert Walden. How did they know the bomb wouldn’t go off? She swung her legs over the side of the bed and took a few steps toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Madeline hurried to her side and grabbed her arm.
“I’ve got to find Agent Edwards. If they can’t even keep the secretary of defense safe, how will they keep me safe?”
“Wait a minute. This is connected to Devin’s murder?” Madeline’s eyes widened and her face paled.
“It’s okay, Mom. I’m sure the FBI can explain it to us.” Aubree pursed her lips as she swung the door open and then cried out when she nearly ran into Edwards. “What is going on?”
“Aubree, we have to move you right now.” He stepped into the room and closed the door.
“But I thought I wasn’t leaving until next week.” Aubree’s hands shook, and she grabbed hold of her mom.
“I know, but this case just spontaneously combusted, and I want you out of here before you come into contact with any of the fallout.” Edwards frowned and shook his head. “I’m sorry. We don’t know what these people are capable of. It doesn’t look good for Secretary Walden.”
Aubree felt her throat tighten, and her eyes stung with moisture. “Is he going to die?”
Edwards pressed his lips into a thin line. “I don’t know yet.”
Madeline’s bracelets jangled as she wrung her hands. “That’s awful.” Then she looked at Aubree, and a mask of resolve appeared on her face. “I’ll help get her things together,” Madeline said. “Give us a couple minutes.”
“That’s all we have. I’m going to be driving you myself.” He opened the door. “I’ll wait right here.”
As soon as the door closed, Aubree wanted to crumple into a heap of tears, but the urgency in Edwards’ voice drove her forward.
“Mom, I thought we’d have more time. I don’t know if I can do this alone.”
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