Gabe (In the Company of Snipers Book 8)
Page 12
When the day came she took another man in marriage, so be it. Kelsey was sister material. Like Ember and Izza. That was all. But whoever took Alex’s place had better be one helluva man because, whether she knew it or not, Kelsey had one bad-assed family of brothers and sisters at her six.
He paused at the back door. Kelsey had knelt to Whisper and Smoke’s level. Both dogs sat in front of her with ears forward, listening intently. She rocked forward and backward, one moment with a hand on Whisper’s wide forehead, the next hugging Smoke like he was a little boy instead of a loyal hound dog, and damn it. A crying woman with broken fingers made for a pitiful sight.
Gabe ventured forth. Neither the dogs nor Kelsey heard him step out on the back porch, but he heard her. “Everyone thinks I’m crazy, but I felt him. I think you know he’s been here, too.”
Whisper placed a huge paw on her shoulder.
“There has to be a really good reason he can’t come home right now, don’t you think?”
Gabe could’ve sworn he’d heard guttural agreement in the black dog’s growly voice. When Kelsey bowed her head, he couldn’t bear to keep his presence hidden anymore.
“They look like they’d do anything for you,” he said softly as he crouched beside her.
Kelsey turned away, a sob caught in her throat. “Wh... what?”
“I didn’t mean to startle you, ma’am. I’m sorry, but these dogs sure love you. They’ll do anything for you, huh?” He ruffled Smoke’s ears and neck. “I’ve worked with them before. They’re the best trackers around, aren’t they?”
She wiped her face and sniffed, the back of her hand to her nose, the splints stiff and straight and stabbing Gabe’s heart. “They’re not just pets. They’re my... boys.”
“I see that.” By now, Smoke faced Gabe, bright-eyed and ready to play. “So why does a dog bond with one person and not another? Harley’s an old Army K-9 handler. He and dogs go together like beer and pizza, but these particular dogs love you more. Anyone can see that.”
“They saved me,” she whispered. “A long time ago.”
He let her sad comment go, stroking the thick ruffle on Smoke’s neck. “Where’s the ball, Smokey? You want to play?”
Smoke took off with his nose to the ground, but Whisper remained steadfast at Kelsey’s side. She pushed up from the lawn and retreated to the garden swing nearer the back door, although now it resembled more of an arbor bedecked with a dense vine. She’d dressed for the day in stonewashed denims and a light blue sweater over a purple button-up blouse. Her eyes were on her hands, her fingers interlocked like awkward knitting needles as she lowered onto the wooden slats.
“You were sleeping when I walked by the living room,” she said. “I hope I didn’t disturb you.”
“Zack rousted me.” He stretched his back and ran a hand through his hair, hopefully brushing out the bed-head he no doubt had. “I can pretty much sleep anywhere. You look good sitting there in all those purple flowers. Wisteria?”
“You know your vines.”
“Yeah. Mom’s got one like it on her patio. The darn thing’s a weed.”
“They can get out of control.” She pulled a fragrant clump of purple to her nose. Just that quickly, a shadow shifted over her countenance. “They’re like children. Before you know it, they’re into everything.”
“Are you warm enough?” He had to ask. She’d shivered talking about children.
Kelsey released the flower and tucked her hands under her arms. “I’m fine. Zack wouldn’t let me out the door without my sweater. Aren’t you guys tired of babysitting me yet?”
“If you’re really asking if I’m tired of your company, that would be a big fat negatory, ma’am. Why? Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Just seems to me that you guys have better things to do than sit around here all day and wait on me.”
“Can’t think of anything I’d rather do. I mean, old man Lennox made some darn good soup for us last night. What more could I ask for? I didn’t know he could cook, did you?”
“Oh, yes. He and Mei have had us over for dinner a couple times. He’s quite the chef when he’s got the time.”
Gabe rubbed his stomach with a smile. “I’ve never gained weight on an op before. This might be my first.”
Smoky returned with a blue rubber ball and the rubber bone sticking out of his mouth. He sat at Gabe’s feet, his hopeful black eyes fixed on Gabe.
“Where’s home?”
Gabe snagged both the bone and the ball from Smoke. He tossed the ball to the far end of the yard. “Well, let’s see. I was born in Germany when Dad was in the Air Force, but when he and Mom came to the States, they settled in Texas.”
“Oh? What part of Germany?”
“Ramstein Air Force Base, ma’am.”
“Ah, please don’t call me ma’am anymore. It makes me feel old.”
“Sorry. You’re what, all of thirty?”
By then, Smoke had returned with two balls, his cheeks puckered out like a gopher’s.
A half-smile twitched at Kelsey’s mouth at her watchdog’s silly antics. She nodded. “Thirty-one. How about you?”
“Twenty-seven going on eighty.”
“I know how that feels. So you were an Air Force brat?”
“Not that I remember.” He tossed the ball across the yard again. Whisper watched with disinterest from Kelsey’s feet while Smoke launched off the patio in retrieve mode. “Dad met Mom while he was stationed over there. He didn’t re-up. I was two years old when they moved back to the States. His family’s all in Texas, so there we are.”
“Where in Texas?”
“Dallas Fort Worth. You ever been there?”
“San Antonio.” Her voice dropped a tone. “It was April.”
“The River Walk?”
“Yes. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
And just like that, Gabe lost her. Her head dipped. She wouldn’t meet his gaze. She must’ve gone to San Antonio with Alex. Death had a way of turning good times into painful memories.
He bounced one of the balls Smoke had retrieved into her lap. Both dogs shifted their gaze to her, bright-eyed and ready to play, but it got her attention, too. She managed to grab hold of the ball and tossed it to Whisper. Of course, he brought it right back to her like the faithful companion he was.
“You feel like taking a walk with me and these rascals? I promise we’ll walk really, really slo-o-o-w,” Gabe teased.
Her poor fingers clattered against the wooden slats as she stood. “I’ll get the leashes.”
“Oh, no you don’t. Just who’s the sickie here? You or me?”
“Me,” she said softly, still blinking her emotions away. “I guess.”
“That’s right, and don’t you forget it.” He walked over to the back door and reached inside for the leashes. Zack was just coming through the front door. “Hey, Lennox. We’re taking the dogs for a walk. You wanna come with?”
Zack walked straight out the back door in a heartbeat. “You bet. Give me that big ol’ moose, Smoke. Gabe, you take Whisper. Miss Shelby’s in the shower right now, but it’s her turn to fix breakfast anyway. We’ll be back by then.”
Kelsey stood at the swing. “But guys, who do I get to walk?”
Gabe handed Whisper’s leash off to Zack. “Me. Here. Take my arm.”
“Great.” Zack huffed in playful annoyance. “I get the dogs. You get the girl.”
“You got that right,” Gabe stated proudly. “I’ll trim that old wisteria thingy that’s taking over your porch swing when we get back, too.”
“Oh, you don’t need to. I’m just glad you guys are here,” she whispered as they started toward the driveway gate.
Gabe clamped his hand over the top of hers, careful of her fingers. “Me, too, Kelsey. Me, too.”
Chapter Twelve
“Can we talk?” David stood at Mark’s workstation, a black folder tucked under his arm.
That was what caught his eye. Who the hell’s running a bla
ck op I don’t know about?
Before long, the two men sat at the small conference table in Alex’s office, where he’d debriefed them in days not so long past. It was the place of one-on-one moments with their intense boss. Moments like that built the agent and strengthened The TEAM.
Of course, Alex could also shred an agent who’d fallen down on the job. Heaven help the man or woman who got an innocent civilian killed. He had no tolerance for collateral damage.
“What’s up?” Mark asked.
David ran his index finger inside his white shirt collar. “I know you’re certain Alex is dead—”
“I know what I saw.” Mark heard the sharp sting in his words. He didn’t want Alex to be dead, but it was time they dealt with it.
“And you believe you saw him die.”
“It’s not just a matter of what I believe. I saw it. I saw the blood. God, I saw his body at the morgue. What more do you guys need?” Mark clenched his jaw and waited.
David laid the black ops folder on the table. “Perspective. I’m not your enemy here. I’d like to propose a couple of theories, that’s all.”
“Then propose away.” Hell. Why not? Rumors were flying. He was at a loss as to how to stop the latest fairytale that it was Alex who’d rescued Kelsey. Connor’s video coverage was no help. Despite what Mark had told Zack in their morning conversation, that mysterious guy in black sure walked like Alex, but would he have done that, just covered his face and drove away?
Hell, no. He’d have made damned sure he was seen, that whoever filmed him got a clear shot of his middle finger. Or a live round.
“Bear with me. Hear me out. You’re the boss here, and—”
Enough! Temper got the best of Mark. “No. I’m not Alex. What the hell, David? Everyone looks at me like I’m the natural-born heir to the Stewart throne. Well, I’ve got news for you. I’m not.”
“But you are.”
“No, I’m not. I don’t know why the hell Alex left this place to you, me, and—”
“And Harley cannot deal with leadership right now. He’s better off at home with his wife and sons.”
Mark clenched the back of his neck with one hand, weary with the weight of perceived leadership. Everyone sure saw something different than he did. Despite his USMC training, this wasn’t the job he’d signed up for. Plain and simple, he didn’t want it. “And that leaves you and me.”
Still—David was correct. Harley wasn’t capable of leadership at the moment. The TEAM was better off with him at home.
“Yes,” David said, still as calm as ever. “That leaves you and me, but you’re the one holding everyone together, Mark, not me.”
“I am, huh? Sure doesn’t feel like it.”
“You just can’t see it because you’re walking point. You’re so far out ahead of the rest of us that you can’t see who’s behind you anymore, but believe me. Everyone’s got your back. We’re all here.”
Mark stared out the ceiling-to-floor window. Alex’s ghost was everywhere, his fingerprints on every damned wall and countertop of the company he’d built from the ground up. No matter what any legal document said, The TEAM was his. Still. It always would be.
“Okay, so talk. I do need some help.”
“That’s why no one went home last night,” David reminded him. “We’re here to help. All of us.”
“Yeah. I know.” Mark blew out a big breath and let a fraction of frustration go with it. The TEAM was the absolute best covert surveillance company in town. Hell, maybe on the entire East Coast. He just didn’t want to lead it, not this way. “Whatcha got, David? What are you thinking?”
“That maybe we need to set aside everything we thought we knew. To begin again, tell me what you saw when you and Harley accompanied Kelsey to the morgue.”
The recollection came back in a flood of nausea and all too vivid detail. Mark’s headache kicked up a notch. He’d tried to talk Kelsey out of going, but she’d insisted. That was when all this crazy talk about exhumations and Alex visiting her in her dreams started.
“She could barely stand,” he said softly. “When the ME pulled the tray out of the drawer... when he lowered the sheet... I barely caught her before she hit the floor.”
“And Harley was upset.”
Mark nodded. More like devastated. Anguished. Hopeless. Maybe suicidal. Mark didn’t know who’d cried harder that day, Kelsey or Harley.
“I’m sorry. I know this is hard, but did you notice any stitching? Was there a Y-shaped incision on the body?” David pressed. “It would’ve been visible below the collarbones. The ME had completed his autopsy by then. He would’ve made the thoracoabdominal incisions in order to determine cause of death. It’s standard procedure.”
Mark lifted the back of his hand to his mouth. God. MEs and morticians. Ghouls of the trade. “I didn’t see any incision. The ME only exposed Alex’s face.”
And that was enough, because it was his friend and boss on that stainless steel tray, only it wasn’t. The macabre image of Alex’s gray lips and lifeless, pale skin tortured Mark still. He didn’t need to see stitches to know the body had been cut open, every organ measured and weighed, bagged, and replaced.
David extracted two black and white eight-by-ten glossies from the folder. He’d been unusually quiet the last week. No wonder. He’d been running his own investigation on the ME.
From neck to trunk, the photos showed the cleaned-up version of a male cadaver with three entry and exit holes, including the very prominent stitching David had asked about. The label in the upper left corner declared these grotesquely intimate images to be Alex.
Bile lifted up from Mark’s gut. The walls closed in, making it difficult to breathe. Why the hell had David ambushed him like this? God, that’s not just a body you’re showing me. Alex was my friend. Maybe my best friend.
“Tell me what’s missing, Mark. Do you see it?”
He glanced at the photos, his heart thumping in his chest. “I don’t see anything.” And I sonofabitchin’ don’t want to.
“Look again,” David urged. “You will.”
Swallowing hard, Mark did as David requested for all of sixty seconds before he shoved the images back across the table. “Why didn’t the ME include the vic’s face in the shot? How do we know this is really Alex?”
David pushed the photos back under Mark’s nose again. “I know this is hard, but I want you to remember what Alex would say to us right now.”
That word. Mark had heard it a thousand times. He could almost hear the impatience behind it when Alex snapped it out of his mouth like a sting at the end of a whip.
Think.
Mark scrubbed a hand over his face and looked at the damned pictures again. And then he looked closer. Alex had lost a kidney after a confrontation with Kelsey’s ex. He’d been beaten and knifed. Left for dead. “This body doesn’t have any scars. It sure as hell should have.”
“Precisely.”
“So either the ME labeled the wrong photos or...” Mark bit his lip at the evidence, not wanting to entertain the impossible. Could there be another body out there with three identical bullet wounds like the ones Alex had suffered? “Or what? Or the dead body I saw with my own eyes wasn’t Alex? No, David. This is an administrative error. Call the ME. Tell him to send the right pictures.”
“I did. He claims these are the right ones.” David’s eyes narrowed. “There’s another thing that puzzles me. Who called the paramedics the morning Alex was shot?”
“I’m not sure. Gabe maybe? He was first on the scene,” Mark replied, his mind still on the pictures of the body that very well might not be Alex’s. Could it be possible? Damn it?
“I checked with 911 dispatch to verify. They have no record that anyone called.”
“What are you saying? That someone intercepted Gabe’s call? Maybe the paramedics were just in the right place at the right time for once. It happens.” Was there any damned way Alex was still alive?
“Maybe.” David’s quiet agreement sp
iked Mark’s irritation. “Or maybe someone did intercept the 911 call as you suggested.”
“What? You think those guys who showed up weren’t really paramedics?” This conspiracy theory just kept growing. Now David believed? Mark had just been thankful the paramedics arrived as quickly as they did, but now he didn’t know what to think.
He held one hand up to stop this insane line of thought. “Wait a minute. If you’re insinuating the paramedics were fake, then you also think the emergency room doctor lied. And if he did, the ME’s lying, too. So is FBI Agent Kenny. You’re way off base, David. That’s just too damned much collusion to be real world. No way could all of those professionals pull off a cover-up that big. The boss is dead. God, let it go.”
A frission of unease crept up Mark’s spine even as he argued. Kenny had lied. Mark knew it in his sniper’s heart, which meant the ME and the Bureau were in league for some ungodly reason. Could David be right?
David leaned forward on the table, his fingers interlocked in front of him. “I found something on the FBI server. I’ll need Mother’s help to crack it, but I thought you should know about it first. It’s an encrypted file called Eagle Two.”
“So?”
“So it’s on the Secret Service server, too.”
“Why are you inside federal servers?”
“Because I don’t believe Agent Kenny and neither do you.”
And there it was, the real problem. God, Mark wanted to believe, but facts were facts. He’d seen what he’d seen, damn it.
Bottom line—The TEAM had enough on their plate right now. The last thing they needed was to get between the FBI and Secret Service, both heavy hitters and lethal as hell if you got on their bad side. “Why’d that grab your attention?”
“Would you understand if I told you I have a gut feeling that it’s related to Alex? I’d like to investigate further if it’s okay with you.”
That was Alex’s first rule, wasn’t it? Always trust your gut?