The voice grew louder, and the static of background noise subsided long enough for Maggie to make out bits and pieces of the one-sided conversation. Once again, she forced her eyes open. The MP stood with his back to Maggie, a cell phone at his ear.
“Roger that, sir.” She blinked the digital patterned uniform into focus. “She’s alive, but out cold. I’ll return to post and get rid of her car before I get rid of her.”
Maggie’s stomach roiled once again. Another wave of vertigo pitched her into blackness, and she heard nothing except distant thunder and rushing water.
Nate parked in front of Quarters 1448 and crossed the street. He held up his identification when Mrs. Foglio opened the door to her quarters. “Mr. Patterson, CID, ma’am. I need to talk to your stepson.”
Frustration flashed from her eyes. “Can’t you leave him alone?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but this is important.”
“That’s what you people keep saying.” She stepped back from the door, allowing Nate to enter the foyer. A television played in the rear of the house.
“Kyle, someone wants to talk to you.”
The kid frowned as he lumbered down the hallway. “Yeah?”
Despite the boy’s attitude, Nate noticed that he had removed two of the three studs in his nose, and when he spoke, his tongue was free of metal, as well. Maybe Lieutenant Colonel Foglio and his wife were having a positive influence after all.
“The night Major Bennett committed suicide, did you see anything outside?” Nate asked. “Anything that looked unusual?”
“He was sound asleep,” Mrs. Foglio interjected before her stepson could answer. “I was out of town, visiting my sister that night, but my husband talked to the MP who questioned everyone on the block.”
Nate held up his hand. “Please, ma’am, I need Kyle to answer.”
“My husband said Kyle went to bed early and slept late, Mr. Patterson.”
“Ma’am, please.” Nate turned his attention to the boy. “Your bedroom is in the front of the house and looks onto the street. What did you see that night?”
Kyle glanced down at the floor then shrugged. “A cop car kept cruising the neighborhood. He probably wanted to make sure I wasn’t getting into trouble.”
“Were any cars parked near the house, either on the main road or in the alley behind the quarters?”
Kyle wiped the palms of his hands on his jeans. “I snuck out that night to meet a friend.”
“Oh, no,” the stepmother groaned.
“Go on.” Nate held the young man’s gaze. “Tell me what happened.”
“I cut through the open field behind 1448 on the way home. That’s when I saw the MP car parked in the alley.”
Nate raised his brow. “The same car that had patrolled the neighborhood earlier?”
“I’m not sure, but the MP came out of Major Bennett’s house and drove away.”
“What time was that?”
“My girlfriend texted me right afterward.” The teen pulled his cell from his pocket and punched a few buttons. “Twelve-forty.”
“Did you see anyone else?”
“Yeah. A guy dressed in regular clothes left a little later and walked to a red Mustang. The streetlights were out, and it was pretty dark so I couldn’t see his face. All I know is that he was a big guy, like my dad.”
“Built?”
Kyle nodded. “Totally.”
Nate’s gut clenched. Graham Hughes.
“Have you seen either of those two men since then?”
“I think the MP was back today. I saw him after I gave the package to the lady.”
Nate’s gut tightened. “Which lady?”
“The postman delivered a box that was addressed to 1448,” Mrs. Foglio volunteered. “I had Kyle take it across the street. He said Dani’s sister answered the door.”
“Did you see her leave the house, ma’am?”
“No. But Kyle saw an MP car pull out of the garage about ten minutes later.”
Nate’s heart exploded in his chest. “Do you still have the key to the quarters?”
Mrs. Foglio must have recognized the urgency in his voice. Without delay, she hurried into the kitchen and returned with the key.
Nate raced across the street and pulled his weapon as he entered the house. A rapid search of the downstairs revealed no changes from the last time he was there, except for the plastic bag, containing the wrapped flag and medals. Taking the stairs two at a time, he checked the bedrooms then threw open the attic door. Fear iced his veins, imagining what he might discover.
Slowly, he climbed the stairs, his eyes searching the rafters. Finding nothing, he let out a ragged breath and retraced his steps. Once in his car, he called Jamison and quickly filled him in on what the Foglio boy had said.
“Send in a team to sweep the quarters for prints. Send a Be On the Lookout notice to the Georgia and Alabama Highway Patrols for a silver Saturn and a red Mustang. The MPs should have both license plate numbers in their database.”
“Roger that.”
“Maggie was right. Graham Hughes came back to the house and parked his Mustang in the alley the night Major Bennett was killed. Thorndike may be involved. Haul both of them in. Search their homes. Search their offices. Go into their computers. Find any information you can that might determine what they’ve done with Maggie.”
SIXTEEN
Jamison met Nate at the door to the CID Headquarters. “No one’s seen Graham Hughes. We located the gal from the bar and grill. She said Graham planned to go down to the Gulf Coast for a few days.”
“Can she call him on his cell?”
“He’s not answering.”
“Contact Florida law enforcement. Tell them to locate Graham and bring him back to Fort Rickman.”
“Roger that, Nate. What about Wanda?”
“Pull her in. I want to talk to her, as well. Maybe she knows something about Maggie.”
A jackhammer pounded in Maggie’s head. She grimaced and shifted on the thin mattress where she lay. Glancing around the cabin, she spied a sink, stove and refrigerator in the far corner. Dani’s package from Afghanistan sat on a small table nearby.
Licking her dry lips, she longed for a drink of water and an aspirin. Preferably two. She sniffed the damp air that smelled like a musty basement and wondered about the perpetual hum of running water. Attempting to roll to her side, she realized too late that her hands and legs were tied to the bedposts. She yanked at the restraints, but the plastic ties cut into her wrists and held her bound.
“God, please help me.”
The rumble of a car engine sent a shiver of apprehension up her spine. She stared at the door, praying it would remain shut while thoughts of Dani and Kendra played through her mind. Had they been killed by the same MP who planned to “get rid of her” as soon as he returned from disposing of her car?
Fear clasped down on her gut and made her want to lash out at anything and anyone. She’d fight to the death, of that she was sure. Then she tried to raise her head and was overcome with a combination of vertigo and nausea.
No matter how strong she wanted to be, she’d been knocked unconscious and had probably suffered a concussion. Her body couldn’t regroup to fight off anyone at this point, but at least she could put up a struggle.
Footsteps approached. The doorknob turned. Her pulse went into overdrive, and adrenaline pulsed through her veins, adding more pressure to her head that already threatened to explode.
Maggie closed her eyes, hoping to appear unconscious.
Footsteps scurried across the wooden floor and stopped at the bedside. A hand grabbed her shoulder. “Maggie?”
She recognized the voice.
Opening her eyes, she didn’t know whether to scream or rejoice. “Graham?”
Nate looked up as Jamison stuck his head through the door to his office. “Thorndike walked in on his own accord. We’ve got him in interrogation room one.”
“Thank God.” Nate raced out of his of
fice.
Jamison caught up with him in the hallway. Placing his hand on Nate’s arm, the agent cautioned, “Don’t lose your cool.”
As much as he wanted to pound information out of Thorndike, Jamison was right. Nate needed to stay in control. Rage would only compound the situation.
When he entered the interrogation room, Sergeant Thorndike jumped to his feet. “Sir, what’s going on? I had car trouble on the way to Garrett. My cell was out of range so I had to hoof it to Pine City to get help.”
“Sit down, Sergeant.”
“Not until you tell me why you hauled me in today.”
Nate put his knuckles on the table and leaned forward. “I said sit down.”
Thorndike fisted his hands. Fire smoldered in his eyes, but he lowered his weighty body into the chair and continued to glare at Nate.
“You were the first on scene for Major Bennett’s suicide, is that correct, Sergeant?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What about sixteen years ago when Lieutenant Colonel Bennett took his own life? Do you remember being the first on scene that night, as well?”
Thorndike’s face clouded. “You think I killed the major?”
“You tell me.”
“I didn’t do it, sir.”
“You knew about her father’s death, yet you didn’t reveal that information?”
Thorndike hung his head. “Sir, I’ll tell you the truth. I didn’t make the connection between the two cases until a couple days ago when I was going through some of the awards I’ve received over the years. Found a picture of me with Colonel Rogers, the provost marshal at that time. I got to thinking about all the cases I’d been involved in and realized Daniel Bennett was the major’s father. I was embarrassed about not telling anyone and figured I’d look like a fool coming forth with the information this late in the investigation. Plus I didn’t see any reason it would have a bearing on the case. It’s been sixteen years, sir.”
“You were first on scene when Agent McQueen’s BOQ was broken into, isn’t that right, Sergeant?”
“Ah, yes, sir.”
“The soles of your shoes were crusted with glass.”
“Which I brought to your attention.”
Thorndike had pulled a number of tours in Iraq but had never served in Afghanistan where the mail ring originated. Still, AmeriWorks, the company Graham Hughes worked for, had contracts in that country. Thorndike could be working with Graham, which would explain how the sergeant’s “little woman” afforded to shop in all the high-end boutiques on her frequent trips to Atlanta.
After a volley of rapid-fire questions from Nate, Thorndike shrugged and averted his gaze. “Fact is, sir, my memory’s been slipping this past year. Time for me to retire and head south. Get that house the little woman and I have been dreaming about.”
Nate needed information, not some excuse about old age. Before he could ask another question, a knock sounded and the door opened. Jamison motioned to Nate. “I need to see you.” Letting out a pent-up lungful of air, Nate joined him in the hallway.
“According to Wanda, someone borrowed Graham Hughes’s Mustang the night Major Bennett was killed. Wanda received a large sum of money in return for keeping Graham occupied inside the bar until she got an all clear. By that time, she had decided to take Graham home for the night.”
“Did she provide a name?
“Her contact was Wally Turner.”
“As in Wally’s Pawn?”
“You got that right.”
“Notify the FBI. They’ll want to talk to Wally as well as a guy named LeShawn and one named Ronald Jones, who goes by Bubba. I mentioned them earlier.” Nate hesitated before he asked, “What about Maggie?”
“Wanda doesn’t know anything about her, but we’ll keep pressing.”
In Nate’s opinion, that wasn’t good enough.
Graham stared down at the restraints holding Maggie bound. His face wore a mix of anger and frustration. The same emotions she was feeling.
She tugged on the ties, trying once again to free herself. “I was right all along, wasn’t I, Graham? You killed Dani, but no one believed me.”
“No one believed you because it isn’t true.”
“Maybe you didn’t hang her from the rafter, but you planned her death even if you had that military guy do the job.”
Graham stepped into the kitchen area and opened one drawer after another. “What military guy?”
“The brute who knocked me out and shoved me into the trunk of his car.”
Removing something from the last drawer, Graham returned to her bedside and leaned over Maggie. She could feel his breath on her cheek. Her pulse raced with fear.
“Do you still remember the night we were together down by the river?” he asked.
Her cheeks burned. As if she could forget what happened. When he raised his hand, she saw the butcher knife he held. She had to keep talking to distract him. “You were using me to get back at Dani.”
“The truth was I was using Dani to get to you. I told you how I felt, but you never answered my letters. I wrote every week until I finally realized you didn’t want anything to do with me.” He touched his finger to the blade, checking its sharpness.
She shrunk back. “I… I never received any letters, Graham.”
He lowered the knife.
Maggie’s heart catapulted against her chest and she tried to backpedal in the bed, knowing in half a heartbeat the razor-sharp blade would cut through her flesh.
Nate needed information no one could provide. If only he could think clearly, but all that came to mind was that Maggie was in danger. When he closed his eyes, he saw her sister’s lifeless body hanging from the rafters and Kendra’s child, who no longer had a mother to love her. Come on, Nate. Why can’t you pull this case together?
He opened his eyes to Wanda, who sat across the table from him, crying like a baby.
“Do you have any idea who Wally was working for or who was setting up Graham to be the fall guy by using his Mustang?” Nate asked.
Wanda shook her head. Her face was splotched, her eyes red and swollen. “I thought it was some type of a joke they were playing on him.”
Yeah, right. “Is Wally a regular at the bar and grill?”
She blew her nose into a tissue. “He comes in about once a week.”
“Who does he talk to?”
“No one. He’s a loner.” She paused and then held up her hand. “But there’s another guy who stops by every so often. Funny last name. Seems to me I saw him with Wally about a month ago.”
Nate needed an ID. “What’s the guy look like?”
“Kind of nondescript. He’s a big guy but not too smart.”
“But his last name’s unusual?”
“Starts with a Z.”
An alert siren went off in Nate’s head. “Zart?”
“That’s it.”
Jamison dashed into the room followed by Corporal Raynard Otis. “One of the choppers from the 5th Aviation Detachment just landed. On the way back to post, they spied something from the air.”
Nate followed the two agents into the hallway and listened as Jamison filled him in. “Otis got word they spotted a red Mustang heading south along the River Road.”
“Where’s that road lead?”
The corporal held up a map. “Eventually to Florida. The river narrows around the bend. There’s a rise on the other side where a few fishermen have cabins. The only way across are two somewhat makeshift bridges. The closest is an old, rickety wooden structure. The distant bridge is a bit more stable.”
Nate put his hand on Jamison’s shoulder. “Contact the Freemont police and State Highway Patrol for help. Tell them that we’re looking for Arnold Zart. Call Florida and have them stand by in case he heads that far south.”
“What about Graham?” Jamison asked.
“I’m not sure. Zart’s got to be involved. He flies in and out of Afghanistan on a regular basis. Easy enough to set up a mail ring while he’s in
that country, but in my opinion, he’s not smart enough to coordinate the whole operation. His desk sits next to Graham’s in the contracting office on post so he had access to Graham’s keys and could have made a spare for both his quarters on post and his car.”
Jamison pulled out his phone. “I’ll start contacting the civilian law enforcement agencies.”
Nate motioned to the corporal. “Come with me.”
With Otis in pursuit, Nate raced to interrogation room one and threw open the door, startling Thorndike. “You fish with a few guys on post. Did Arnold Zart ever join you?”
The sergeant nodded. “A couple of times.”
“Didn’t you tell me about a cabin south of post on the opposite side of the river? I need to know how to get there.”
Thorndike gave him directions. On his way out the door, Nate yelled at Otis over his shoulder. “Tell Jamison to dispatch a unit to the cabin. Then contact 5th Aviation and tell them to scout out the area from the air.”
“Sir, a storm’s coming in. All aircraft are grounded.”
Nate needed help. “Come on, God. Give me a break.”
“Sir?”
“Tell Jamison to use the southern route to the cabin. I’ll cross the river at the more northern access.”
“But, sir, we got word the water’s cresting the bridge. You’ll be washed downstream.”
“Then pray I can swim, Corporal.”
“Yes, sir.”
SEVENTEEN
“Someone kept my letters from you, Maggie. Either your mother or Dani.”
Confused by what Graham had just said, Maggie watched him cut the ties and free her hands and feet. Grabbing her shoulder, he pulled her up to a sitting position. The room swirled around her. She moaned, overcome with another swell of nausea.
“Are you okay?”
She rubbed her wrists. “Give me a second.” The room stabilized, but her thoughts remained jumbled.
Graham had written her?
“You thought I was using you because I’d used other girls. But you were different, Maggie.”
“I was just another conquest for you, Graham.” She shook her head at her own naïveté. “And to think what almost happened that night.”
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