The Soldier's Sister

by Giusti, Debby

  Returning to his car, he drove to the local fast-food restaurant on post and picked up a burger with fries, supersized, and a cold drink.

  Usually he would have been anxious to get home, but with the questions that circulated through his head about Stephanie Upton and her estrangement with her brother, Brody doubted he would get a good night’s sleep. Instead, he would probably stay up late, pretending to watch the sports channel, while he tried to put together the pieces of this investigation.

  What was it about Stephanie Upton that bothered him? He sighed. Bothered wasn’t the right word. She’d gotten under his skin. He didn’t know how or why.

  He hadn’t been attracted to anyone since Lisa and had never thought those types of feelings would surface again. Yet here he was thinking about a woman who was totally focused on repairing her relationship with her brother, a man Brody considered a threat.

  Once inside his quarters, he shoved the burger and fries into his mouth and gulped down the cola. His mixed emotions might have been brought on by hunger, but even after eating, he couldn’t get Stephanie off his mind.

  Talk about a conflict of interests. Maybe he should turn over the investigation to someone else at headquarters and move on. He shook his head, knowing that wasn’t an option, especially as short staffed as they were. Besides, something had happened to him today. Whether appropriate or not, he was already involved.

  * * *

  Stephanie exhaled, deeply confused by Brody. Why had he been hanging around her house? Surely it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with Ted. She never should have allowed the special agent to follow her home or to come inside.

  She hadn’t told him about the markings on the bedsheets, fearing he would instantly suspect Ted. If his attitude toward her brother changed, she would show him the note that had been pinned to her pillowcase. Taking care not to touch her hand to the paper, she had used tweezers to enclose the message in a Ziploc bag, just as Brody had done with the note in the kitchen. He could run a fingerprint check later, when and if she told him about the incident. For now, she would keep the information to herself.

  After turning off the lights, she headed for the guest room, knowing she’d never be able to get any rest in her own room with the marked bedding. Once again, she tried unsuccessfully to call Ted.

  Tomorrow, she would track him down and have a heart-to-heart talk.

  Would he listen?

  More than likely, he’d fiddle with his smart phone and check his email, maybe send a text message or two to indicate that he wasn’t interested in healing their relationship or in anything she had to say. She’d already gotten that message with her unreturned phone calls and his hateful comments at Joshua’s house earlier today.

  Regrettably, Brody had heard those comments, too. If only she could erase what had happened and start fresh.

  But it was too late for that.

  Brody would be back bright and early the next morning. She needed to get some sleep, but when she turned off the light, she saw Joshua’s face and the blood on the bathroom floor.

  She tossed and turned for what seemed like hours until she finally drifted into a fitful slumber, studded with horrific dreams. She was in the water, swimming through murky blackness. The wind howled around her, hurling large whitecaps that crashed over her head. A deadly cold soaked into her bones along with a heavy lethargy, yet she had to go on.

  Diving down into the turbid water, she reached for Hayden. His hand slipped from hers, replaced with a flash of memory. Something she’d buried from her youth in the deep recesses of her psyche.

  The flash disappeared.

  She was on The Upton Queen, her father’s boat. Ted stood at the stern, his hand gripping the rope attached to the ship’s bell. Over and over again, he yanked on the cord, causing the bell to peal into the night.

  She could see it play out with dreamlike clarity.

  Nikki leaned against the railing, a large beach towel around her shoulders, staring with big eyes into the lake. Paul and Josh sat on the deck, impaired by the alcohol they had consumed. Another teen, Cindy Ferrol, appeared too pasty white, her shoulder injured from jumping off the rope swing into the rapid current. Tears streamed down her blotched cheeks.

  The bell continued to peal.

  Stephanie tried to drown out the death knell that sounded too loud, too real, too—

  She sat up in bed, a cold sweat dampening her neck.

  The bell hadn’t been a dream.

  As she listened, it tolled again. Once, twice, three times.

  The chilling sound filled the night and sent her scurrying down the hallway and into the great room. She stepped to the window and peered out at the dark pool and the yard beyond, expecting to see Ted.

  Instead, she saw the water and the trees and the now-silent bell.

  Was her mind playing tricks on her?

  Or was someone out there? She thought of the photo of the old gang and the bull’s-eye covering Joshua’s face. Nikki, Cindy, Paul? They had heard Ted ring the bell. Were they trying to scare her tonight? Or were they all in danger?

  Stephanie had made a mistake three years ago. She couldn’t make another mistake. The stakes were too high.

  Today Josh had been injured and could have died.

  Next time, would it be Ted? Or Paul?

  If only she could remember what she had seen that night as she searched for Hayden. A flash from her past that eluded her even now.

  A sound on the front steps caused her to turn from the window and stare through the foyer at the oak door. Had it been a creaking porch floorboard or footsteps?

  She held her breath, listening. All she heard was her pounding heart mixed with the drone of the air-conditioning system and the hum of cool air coming through the vents.

  Glancing down, she realized her cell phone was in her hand. She had programmed Brody Goodman’s cell number into her contacts file. As much as she wanted to call him, she couldn’t feed his growing antagonism toward her brother.

  The security alarm was on. The doors and windows were locked. Earlier, Brody had assured her she was safe. Nothing had changed, except now she didn’t feel safe or secure. Was she in danger?

  SIX

  The front door opened the next morning before Brody had climbed the stairs to the Uptons’ porch. Stephanie stood in the threshold, wearing a flowered top and flowing skirt and a smile that sent a warm glow to his midsection. An unexpected breeze picked at her skirt and swirled the thin, gauzy cotton around her legs. The motion of the material drew his eyes to her strappy sandals and pink toenail polish.

  The collar of his white shirt felt tight. He adjusted his tie and pulled his gaze away from her toes and back to her eyes, which were regarding him with a hint of mischief, as if she realized the effect the pink polish had on him.

  Attractive though she was, and as cute as her toes were with the flashy polish, Brody had to admit he was even more taken by her attempt to be upbeat after everything that had happened yesterday.

  “Give me a second to set the alarm and then I’ll be ready,” she said. The system beeped as she tapped in the activation code. A longer buzz indicated the program was set.

  Grabbing her purse and briefcase off a small table in the foyer, she stepped outside. “Something tells me you didn’t grow up in a small town.” She pulled the door shut behind her.

  “Only if you call L.A. small.”

  She laughed, a throaty sound that caused a curl of interest to tighten his chest. “Here’s how it works in Freemont. We may have home security alarms, but we rarely use them.”

  He gave her a mock salute. “Then thank you, ma’am, for humoring me today by arming and activating your system.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to worry.” She laughed again, but as close as they were standing, Brody could
see the tiny lines of fatigue that pulled at the corners of her smile. Evidently, she had slept as little as he had.

  “Ferrol’s Garage is on one of the side streets downtown,” she said as they walked toward her car.

  Brody pointed to the rear tire. “That spare doesn’t look very dependable, Stephanie. I’ll be right behind you if there’s a problem.”

  He held the door and inhaled the sweet floral scent of her perfume as she slipped past him into the driver’s seat. Once she buckled up, Brody climbed into his own car. Stephanie drove at a modest speed, and they reached Ferrol’s Garage’s parking lot without incident.

  The door to the mechanic’s bay hung open. A man in jeans and a gray short-sleeved shirt peered out from under the hood of a car.

  “Long time, no see, Stephanie.” He walked outside to greet them, wiping his hands on a small towel that was shoved in his back pocket. “I heard you were staying at your dad’s place.”

  “Until I can find an apartment.” She introduced Brody, who shook the mechanic’s strong, work-worn hand.

  Walt Ferrol was about five-eleven and stocky, with a thick neck and beady eyes that narrowed even more when he glanced at Brody’s gray slacks and lightweight sport coat.

  “You must be a civilian.”

  “Actually, I’m a warrant officer and special agent with the Criminal Investigation Division. We wear civilian clothes when investigating a case.”

  The mechanic’s face tightened. “Don’t tell me you’re here because of what happened to Joshua?”

  “Are you aware of anyone who would want to harm Private Webb?”

  “Not Josh. He was always a good kid. Shame what happened to him in Afghanistan.”

  “What about a red pickup with oversize tires? Anyone you know own that type of vehicle?”

  Walt whistled, long and low. “Sounds like that juiced-up Ford Hayden Allen used to drive.”

  Stephanie shook her head. “It was raining, and the visibility wasn’t good, but I never thought it was Hayden’s truck.”

  “What happened to the Ford?” Brody asked.

  “You’d have to talk to Keith,” Walt said.

  Brody remembered the name from the newspaper story. “Hayden’s brother?”

  Stephanie nodded. “That’s right.”

  “Keith has an office at Freemont Real Estate,” the mechanic volunteered. “He started working for them right before the influx of new military folks came to town. Made a killing, or so folks said.”

  Brody raised his eyebrow ever so slightly at the mechanic’s choice of words.

  Walt tugged at his chin. “How does Hayden’s Ford tie in with what happened to Joshua?”

  “It wasn’t Hayden’s truck,” she insisted.

  “Stephanie saw a red pickup with mud tires leaving Josh’s subdivision right before she discovered his injuries,” Brody said, watching how Walt processed the information.

  The mechanic hesitated a moment, and then leaned toward her. “Did you recognize the driver?”

  She shook her head. “Everything happened too fast.”

  Walt sniffed. “Probably just a coincidence, then.”

  Brody pulled a business card from his coat pocket and handed it to the mechanic. “Call me if you hear anything that might have bearing on this case. I want to know who’s responsible.”

  Walt nodded enthusiastically. “I feel the same way. Especially since Josh and Cindy were such good friends.”

  “Who’s Cindy?” Another name from the newspaper article, but he would let Walt tell him what he already suspected.

  “My baby sister. She and Josh went to school together.” He pointed to Stephanie. “Along with her brother, Ted, and Hayden and Paul Massey and Nikki Dunn. They were inseparable, but after Hayden’s death, the whole gang fell apart.”

  Shaking his head at Stephanie, he added, “My sister rarely sees Nikki, yet the two girls were so close in high school.”

  “People grow up and grow apart, Walt.”

  He pursed his full lips. “I suppose you’re right. Cindy works for me in the office now. Helps out in the shop if we’re busy. She’s got herself a little place east of town. A few acres.”

  “Good for her.”

  Walt pointed to Stephanie’s Corolla. “Looks like you could use a new tire on that back wheel.”

  “That’s why I’m here.” She opened the trunk and stepped back so Walt could inspect the flat tire. “There’s a problem with the valve stem.”

  The mechanic chuckled. “What happened? Ted playing tricks again?”

  She bristled. “Of course not.”

  He rubbed his fingers over the worn rubber tread. “Don’t like being the bearer of bad news, but the tread’s about gone on this baby. Doubt it would last to the end of the week, even with a new valve stem.”

  Brody agreed. “Is there a tire dealer in town?”

  Walt jammed a thumb back at his own chest. Pride flashed from his eyes. “You’re looking at him. If you want, I’ll order you a new tire, Stephanie. Should take a couple days. Although if you want my advice, I’d replace all four tires. To be safe.”

  She groaned internally. Her monthly budget was already stretched too thin. “I’ll have to think it over. Get a quote. Then call me.”

  She pulled a business card from her purse and scribbled another number on the back before handing it to Walt. “My cell number’s listed under my name. The landline to my office is on the other side.”

  A late-model sports car pulled into the lot. The driver, a woman, early twenties with brown hair, waved. She wore tight jeans and a gray polo that matched Walt’s shirt.

  Big silver loops dangled from her ears, and a number of bracelets clinked as she walked toward them. “Hey there, Stephanie. I heard you were back in town. Ted must be glad to see you.”

  Ignoring the comment about her brother, Stephanie introduced Brody to Walt’s sister, Cindy.

  “How are you, ma’am?”

  “A few minutes late this morning. Is there anything you need, Walt?”

  “Check the price on new tires for Stephanie’s car.”

  “Will do.”

  Walt gave Stephanie’s card to his sister and pointed to Brody. “Special Agent Goodman asked about Hayden’s truck. Someone driving a similar vehicle may have been involved in Joshua’s accident.”

  Cindy shook her head. “I haven’t seen his truck around these parts for at least two years. Keith would know for sure.” She glanced at her watch. “He opens his office at eight, but he usually eats breakfast at the diner. You might find him there.”

  Once back in his car, Brody turned to Stephanie and smiled. “I’ll buy breakfast.”

  “You don’t need to talk to Keith. The truck wasn’t Hayden’s.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She sighed. “I told you, everything happened rather quickly. All I saw was a red pickup with oversize wheels that screeched out of the subdivision. I was more concerned about not getting hit rather than the make and model, yet it didn’t seem as big and bulky as Hayden’s truck.”

  Brody glanced at his watch. “No pressure, but we’ve got some time before work and I’m hungry. If we see Keith, so much the better.”

  With a look of resignation, she pointed to the next intersection. “Turn right on Third Street. The diner’s not far from the courthouse on the square.”

  Brody headed toward the center of town. “From what Walt said, I gather Cindy and Ted were friends in high school.”

  Stephanie nodded. “All the kids hung around together. Ted and Nikki dated most of their senior year. They broke up, and she ended up going to the prom with Hayden.”

  “In his spruced-up red Ford?”

  Stephanie smiled. “Which all the girls loved. Hayden was a ladies’ man as wel
l as a good kid.”

  “Walt said the group fell apart after his death.”

  “The guys enlisted. Cindy used to help her mom with a home-cleaning business. I’m not sure when she started working for Walt. At some point Nikki got a job at the PX on post.”

  “How did she take Hayden’s death?”

  “Nikki was devastated. All the kids were. Folks in town mourned his death, as well. Hayden had been accepted to Georgia Tech and planned to be an engineer like his dad. People thought he’d come back to Freemont and help to put the town on the map.”

  “So his death was tough on everyone.”

  Stephanie nodded. “Especially his mother. Hayden was Aunt Hazel’s pride and joy. Her marriage wasn’t the best, and my uncle died when Hayden was in middle school, which is probably why she clung so tightly to him. He was definitely her favorite.”

  “She’s your mother’s sister?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Tell me about Keith. Growing up, were you two close?”

  She tilted her head. “Keith was two years older than me and had his own friends.”

  “What about his relationship with Hayden?”

  “There was a bit of sibling rivalry, which happens in a lot of families. Hayden excelled in just about everything he did. Folks thought he would go far.”

  “And Keith wasn’t the shining star?”

  “He didn’t have the spark that made Hayden stand out. Everyone liked Hayden, and my aunt made no attempt to hide which son had her heart.”

  “Was Keith jealous of his brother?”

  “Not that I could tell.”

  “How’s his relationship with his mother now?”

  “I’m not sure. Aunt Hazel suffered a stroke not long after Hayden’s death. Keith couldn’t care for her at home and placed her in the local nursing home.”

  A sad situation all around.

  The diner appeared in the distance. Brody parked in the lot behind the small restaurant. Stephanie nodded to a number of the early-morning patrons, who smiled as they entered. A waitress pointed them toward a booth and brought two cups of steaming coffee along with menus.