The Officer's Secret

by Giusti, Debby

  The trill of his cell phone filled the breath of space between them. Maggie broke away from his embrace, sending his world toppling into confusion. For a matter of seconds, he couldn’t move.

  Her eyes, big as the universe just a moment ago had once again clouded. “Better answer that call.” Her voice was husky with emotion.

  Nate groped for his cell.

  “Jamison, your timing couldn’t be worse,” Nate wanted to shout into the phone when he recognized the caller ID. Instead he listened as the agent talked about the surveillance that law enforcement had established around Wally’s Pawn.

  When they disconnected, Nate jammed his phone back in his pocket. Maggie stood with her arms around her waist, looking vulnerable and exposed. They’d gotten too close. She had to have felt it as much as he had.

  Turning away from him, she opened one of the drawers, sifting through her sister’s things. “I don’t know where anything is.” She changed the focus from what had just happened to the task of gathering clothing for her sister’s burial.

  Nate walked to the closet and pulled out the major’s dress blue uniform, which he laid on the bed next to the small tote bag Maggie was quickly filling. Whether the funeral director needed all she packed was debatable, but Maggie felt useful and that was important.

  She rummaged once again in the chest of drawers and found a small leather-bound book, which she pulled out and then flipped through.

  “Something special?” he asked.

  “A Bible.” Her voice signaled surprise. Turning the pages, she eventually stopped and silently read a passage. Tears filled her eyes once again.

  She pulled in a ragged breath and shook her head as if deeply moved by what she had read. “Over lunch, my sister talked about trying to get her life together. She mentioned her search for God. I… I had told her to turn to scripture.”

  Maggie looked at him as if seeking approval. If it relieved some of the sorrow he currently saw written so plainly on her face, he’d do anything to help, even agree with her that a passage in scripture had influenced her sister. He’d also escort Maggie to Sunday services in the morning, if that’s what she wanted. He would do anything for her, except pull her back into his arms again, no matter how much he longed to do just that.

  His recent show of affection had taken advantage of her vulnerability. He couldn’t prey on her loneliness and pain. What had happened between them was colored by the situation and not from any real interest on her part.

  Following the funeral, Maggie would leave Fort Rickman, which he knew held memories the beautiful counselor would probably want to shut out of her life. When she shut out the memories, she’d shut him out, as well.

  “I think we have everything,” he said. “Why don’t you keep the Bible if it brings you comfort.”

  She clutched it to her chest and nodded. He grabbed the uniform and the tote bag and held the bedroom door open for her. With her back ramrod straight and the Bible clutched in her hands, Maggie walked rapidly to the top of the stairwell, never glancing at the attic door that still hung open.

  Nate closed it as he passed, then followed Maggie down the stairs. He hadn’t questioned her about the run-in with Graham. There would be time for that later when her emotions weren’t so raw.

  Right now he wanted to get her back to Kelly’s BOQ. Maggie looked exhausted. Dark lines circled her eyes and her cheeks were splotched from the tears she had cried. She probably had not slept much last night and stress had, no doubt, drained whatever reserve she had.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Nate stopped and searched for the major’s shoes, but couldn’t find them. Evidently Corporal Mills had picked them up after all. He would check with Jamison when he got back to headquarters, after he dropped Maggie off at the BOQ and delivered the major’s uniform to the funeral director.

  On the way outside, Maggie opened the metal mailbox that hung next to the front door.

  “Anything?” he asked.

  “Just some junk mail.” Her voice was flat and devoid of emotion as she pulled out the flyers.

  The sooner he could get her away from the house, the better. He’d made a mistake bringing her here. He should have picked up the uniform without Maggie, but she had insisted on doing everything for her sister. He understood that need and remembered his desire to feel useful when Michael had died. Although he hadn’t been able to do anything to wipe away his own guilt. That was the harsh reality of what had happened eight months ago. Something Nate would live with for the rest of his life.

  He looked at Maggie standing on the porch and sorting through the advertisements, and a wave of regret washed over him. If only they had met under different circumstances, he and Maggie might have had a chance to build a relationship of trust. As it was now, he would always be the special agent who had let her down when it came to investigating her sister’s death.

  EIGHT

  Placing the major’s uniform on the backseat, Nate rounded his car to the passenger side and opened the door for Maggie, who was still sorting through the mail. He glanced down, then stooped lower to examine the two-inch gash in his rear tire.

  The sound of a car engine distracted his attention. He stood as a military police sedan pulled to a stop. Sergeant Thorndike rolled down his window and scratched his graying hair.

  “Looks like you’ve got a problem, sir.”

  An understatement for sure.

  “Need some help?” the sergeant asked.

  “Thanks, but I can handle it. Did you see anyone who looked suspicious when you entered the housing area?”

  “I passed Mills on my way here. He mentioned seeing the Foglio kid.” Thorndike pointed to the brick quarters across the street. “I thought I saw him hanging out down the block. Decided I’d talk to his dad and see if he was behaving himself.”

  Maggie shoved the mail into her purse and approached the car. Thorndike glanced her way, then at Nate. “I’d be happy to drive Ms. Bennett back to her motel, sir.”

  “She’s staying at Agent McQueen’s BOQ. I’ll take her there after I change the tire, which won’t take long. You pay the Foglios a visit, and see if anyone remembers anything more about last night, or if anyone was hanging around my car just now.”

  “The boy’s dad claimed he was asleep when Major Bennett was killed. At least that’s what he told Mills. I’ll let you know if the story changes.”

  Nate made short work of the tire and had settled Maggie into the front of his car when Sergeant Thorndike exited the quarters across the street.

  Approaching Nate, he said, “Mrs. Foglio’s at home. She said Kyle has been helping her inside with chores.”

  “But you saw him on the corner?”

  “Sure thought it was him, sir. The boy’s the spitting image of his real mom, and that gal was trouble. She kept complaining her husband was up to no good, but she was the one with the problem.”

  “You know the other Mrs. Foglio?”

  “Only by reputation. I was stationed with Foglio a long time ago when he was a general’s aide and married to the first Mrs. Foglio. She was a gossip and always talked behind her husband’s back. Said he was vindictive and mean. Not that anyone believed her. Glad to see the lieutenant colonel’s done better the second time around. The current Mrs. Foglio seems nice enough, although I had the feeling she was covering up for her stepson today.”

  Or maybe Thorndike saw what he wanted to see. The teen had given the sergeant a hard time last summer. Thorndike could hold a grudge. Of course, there always was the possibility that the kid truly was trouble. Kelly had been suspicious of the boy, as well.

  The teen had gone to stay with his mom after leaving last summer, but he had returned to Fort Rickman just a few days ago. Nate didn’t believe in coincidences, yet he could see no connection between the major’s death and Kyle Foglio being on post. In this case, the two seemingly random events were probably just that.

  As Thorndike drove away, Nate’s eyes settled on Maggie, waiting in the front seat
of his car. She had dropped her head into her hands, and the pitiful spectacle of her continuing grief cut into him like a razor blade.

  Why didn’t you tell anyone the truth about that night? The accusation Graham had hurled at Maggie circled through Nate’s memory.

  What was she holding back? If it had a bearing on the major’s death, Nate needed to know. No matter what, he wanted to help her.

  Nate let out a long sigh, realizing he wanted to do more than help. He wanted to hold her close as he had done upstairs. Only this time, he would never let her go.

  Maggie remained silent as Nate drove her back to Kelly’s BOQ. He promised to drop off Dani’s things at the funeral home before he returned to CID Headquarters for another briefing. Once inside the apartment, Maggie headed straight to bed. After what seemed like hours of tossing and turning, she finally dozed off but woke with a start later that evening when the phone rang.

  She hurried into the living area and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

  Silence and then a dial tone.

  She hung up.

  Her stomach growled and propelled her to the kitchen. Her options included a lunch meat sandwich or the pizza Kelly said she could order by phone and have delivered.

  Outside a car door slammed. Maggie edged back the kitchen curtain and peered through the window into the darkening night. Nate’s car sat parked under a streetlight. As she watched, he stepped onto the pavement and headed toward the BOQ complex.

  Her pulse quickened. Needing Nate’s support, she had thrown herself into his arms at Dani’s quarters. Actually Maggie had needed him to protect her from the memories that had surfaced after seeing Graham. If Nate hadn’t been there—

  She shook her head. No reason to look back.

  The door to Nate’s BOQ closed, and she peered outside once again. This time she saw only the empty walkway.

  The phone in the living room rang, and her heart rate picked up a notch. She grabbed the receiver and tried to control the enthusiasm bubbling up within her.

  “Hi, Nate.” A smile circled her lips but quickly disappeared in response to the silence that greeted her.

  “Hello?”

  Someone pulled in a deep breath.

  “Who is this?”

  When no one answered, she slammed the receiver back on the cradle and punched in *-6-9 to retrieve the caller’s phone number. Either the post phone service didn’t provide the service or the call had come from an untraceable number.

  Maggie’s frustration subsided, replaced with an eerie sense of foreboding. Silly, she knew, but she was in a strange apartment and so much had happened. She lowered the blinds in the living area and debated calling her special agent neighbor. As much as she should stay away from Nate, she also needed to focus on something other than her sister’s death and the memories of the past, which included Graham Hughes.

  Nate had to be tired. He didn’t need her underfoot, and he probably had a girlfriend. Then she thought of what had happened this afternoon. His breath had been as ragged as hers, and the electricity that had passed between them gave no evidence of anyone else in his life.

  Of course, the moment had been an accidental encounter when he had sensed her need for comfort. Nothing more, she told herself as she combed her hair and refreshed her makeup. Looking into the guest room mirror, she laughed. Who was she trying to kid? The guy got to her, in a good way. If she spent a little time in his company tonight, she’d be able to get her thoughts off her problems.

  Her stomach growled again. Plus, she was hungry.

  Maybe Nate would like to share a pizza. With that in mind, she hurried to his door and knocked. When he answered, with his tie undone and shirt partially unbuttoned, she struggled to breathe.

  “Maggie?”

  His surprise took her aback. Had he been expecting someone else?

  She glanced into the neatly furnished BOQ. “Am I disturbing anything?”

  “I was thinking of throwing a couple steaks on the grill and was about to call you. I thought you might be hungry.” So he was thinking of her.

  Maggie smiled as she stepped into his apartment, feeling a sense of rightness. The soothing notes of a solo sax filled the room. A couch and matching chair in earth tones surrounded a square coffee table on which sat a stack of books and a framed five-by-seven photograph. As Maggie neared, she gazed at the picture of Nate in the camouflaged army combat uniform with his arm slung over the shoulder of a younger version of himself dressed in similar military attire.

  Large grins were plastered on both faces as if the two men shared a joke no one else understood. Perhaps, she reasoned, their levity had to do not only with a familial brotherhood, which would explain their similar features, but also their shared love of the military.

  She pointed to the photo. “Your brother?”

  “Michael.” The single-word response held both pride and pain.

  She waited for Nate to provide more information. When he didn’t, she took in the rest of the room with a quick glance. A bookcase filled with military texts hugged the far wall opposite the state-of-the-art sound system and a flat-screen TV. A high-tech computer sat perched on a desk in the corner.

  “You like technology.” She hoped her statement would turn the focus away from the photograph.

  “Just a geek at heart.” He smiled, sending a flutter to her midsection and relief that he’d moved beyond the seemingly raw emotion he still carried concerning his brother’s death.

  She and Dani had only started to reunite after years of being estranged. As significant and good as that coming together had been, Maggie had survived for years without having Dani in her life. Nate, on the other hand, appeared to have had a strong attachment to his little brother. He had mentioned eight months having passed since the young man’s death. Maggie thought back to her father’s death. Sixteen years and the wound still gaped open at times.

  Nate motioned her toward the kitchen. “I was going to make a salad. There’s French bread plus fresh strawberries for dessert.”

  Maggie licked her lips, causing Nate to laugh.

  “Join me,” he said, placing his hand on her arm and walking her into the small, cozy kitchen where the smell of sautéed garlic and onions teased her senses.

  She inhaled deeply. “Makes me think I’m on a cooking show.” She raised her brow, teasing. “Cooking with Nate?”

  “A bachelor has to eat. Plus, I like mushrooms with my steak.” He tossed fresh Portobellos into the garlic-onion mix.

  “May I help with something?”

  “Lettuce is in the fridge. If you’re so inclined, I’ll leave the salad to you.”

  She opened the refrigerator and reached for the plastic bag filled with washed greens, noting the milk and orange juice, an egg carton, deli lunch meat and an assortment of cheese and condiments. On a lower shelf, two steaks marinated. A refrigerator told a lot about a man. This one screamed neat and organized. No excess. No waste.

  “Tomatoes and cucumbers are in the bottom crisper drawer,” he said.

  She placed both on the counter where he had laid a carving board and knife next to a wooden salad bowl. A small wrought-iron table with two chairs sat in the corner nook set for two. Maybe she had interrupted his Saturday night plans.

  “Looks like you were expecting company.”

  “I told you, I planned to see if you were hungry.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you, Nate. Thank you.”

  With one hand on the open refrigerator door and the other reaching for the steaks, he glanced back at her and winked. “I’m a nice guy, Maggie.”

  His smile was disarming, and her cheeks flushed with warmth. As always, she regretted her fair skin that revealed so much about what she was feeling.

  Right now she was feeling at home with the handsome warrant officer. Although the longer he continued to stare at her, the more she struggled to keep her expression neutral. Inside, she felt like Match Light charcoal ready to burst into flame.

  Nate t
urned back to the meat he had pulled from the fridge. “Fire’s ready. My jacket’s in the living room. Slip it on, if you feel like joining me outside.”

  Maggie reached for the navy blazer and draped the lightweight wool over her shoulders. The smell of Nate’s aftershave swirled around her, filling her with a sense of comfort and security. Nate proved to be accomplished with the grill and before long the steaks were on the table, and she was sitting in the chair he held for her.

  “Everything looks and smells delicious. I haven’t had a decent meal in…” She tried to think back but got stuck on what had happened to her sister.

  Nate seemed to pick up on her struggle and directed her down a different path. “It’s nice to have someone to eat with for a change.”

  “You and Kelly don’t get together for potlucks?”

  “Occasionally. Although we often work different shifts. Kel is a great investigator, but our relationship is purely professional, if that’s what you were asking.”

  Maggie hadn’t intended to ask anything about their relationship and had only thought about two single people finding friendship after a long day at work. Although she felt a glow of pleasure, learning the two special agents weren’t involved. Not that she should be interested in Nate in any way except as an officer of the law, looking into her sister’s death. But the man did something to her equilibrium, especially when his blue eyes stared at her as they were doing now, upping her internal thermostat and making her skin pink even more.

  She dropped the napkin onto her lap and lowered her head, saying her own private blessing, hoping to calm her flushed skin with a thankful word to the Lord. When she glanced up, Nate was still staring at her, sending more sparks coursing through her veins. At this rate, she’d be charbroiled before the meal was over.

  “So you and God are tight?” He reached for his fork, evidently aware of the prayer she’d offered for both herself and Nate.

  Recalling the ambiguous comments regarding faith he had made the night before, Maggie weighed whether she should step through the door he seemed to have cracked open. Her counselor side couldn’t resist the opportunity to find out more about his psychological as well as spiritual wounds and won the toss.