Silent Evidence

by Rachel Grant

  Sean took Hazel’s flute and set it with the other empty glasses. “You ready to win this thing, Haze?”

  “Nah, this one’s ours,” Curt said.

  Ian scoffed. “As if Cressida and I won’t crush you all.”

  Hazel laughed at the guys’ ability to boast when they had no idea what the challenge was. Trina wouldn’t let them open the envelopes until they were all in their cars and ready to go.

  She smiled at her fake boyfriend, getting into the groove of the moment. “Sweetheart, we’ve so got this.”

  Keith clapped Sean on the back. “Good luck.”

  “We’ll see everyone at the lunch rendezvous,” Trina said, scanning the assembled group. “Good luck! And speeding tickets will nullify all points. Be safe and sane, people.”

  Before heading for their car, Sean took her hand and approached Alec. “You and Isabel leave quickly,” he said softly. “We’ll hang back. I’d aim to be the last out of the lot, but my guess is that will be Keith and Trina.”

  Alec nodded. “Use the radio if you see anything.”

  “Will do.”

  Alec paused. “And Sean, have fun. You heard Cressida. This is a celebration for all of us.”

  “Will do, boss.”

  They climbed into Sean’s SUV. Hazel noted that none of the other couples had left yet; they were all studying Trina’s list. She ripped open the envelope that had “Sean” written in neat script on the outside.

  The game was straightforward. There were more than a dozen types of sites that could earn them points, but they could only make seven stops. “Do you want to play to win?” she asked.

  “Honey, I always play to win.”

  “Okay, then, we need to choose seven places, preferably ones no one else will choose.”

  “Where are we headed?”

  “Museums—”

  “That’s easy. We can just go to the National Mall and go to the least popular ones.”

  “But none can be a Smithsonian,” she finished.

  “Tricky Trina. What else?”

  “National Parks—but again, the Mall doesn’t count. Civil War battle sites. The Appalachian Trail. A National Historic District. Keep in mind there are bonus points if a site fits two categories.”

  “This is the nerdiest scavenger hunt ever.”

  She laughed. “This is the best kind of scavenger hunt.”

  “Well, obviously. So where do we start?”

  She smiled. “There’s a tiny national park in southwest DC. I’d be shocked if anyone who didn’t grow up in the area knows about it. It’s right by the entrance to 395. Easy ten points on our route.”

  “That the one that’s basically a roundabout? Near the fish market?”

  “Yep.”

  He watched Alec and Isabel leave the lot, followed by Luke and Undine. Only Trina and Keith were left. “Let’s grab our first ten points, then.”

  11

  It wasn’t until they were circling the park that Sean realized how clever Trina had been to require them both to be in the selfie. Hazel couldn’t just jump out of the car and snap a picture. Sean needed to find parking. They got lucky and found a spot on the street to L’Enfant Plaza and ran down the road to Benjamin Banneker Park to snap a picture with the fountain and the official NPS park sign.

  They arrived in time to see Erica and Lee snapping a picture of themselves with the sign.

  Sean laughed. “I didn’t think anyone else knew about this park.”

  “Same,” Erica said. She pointed to a condo building two blocks east. “I lived in that building my first year in DC. I had a view of this park from my living room.”

  Sean pointed to a building a block south. “My sister and her kids live there.” He stared at the building, wondering how she and the girls were doing today. His mom was there, probably sitting on the floor with the girls, building castles out of blocks, which the girls would crush like Godzilla, giggling the whole time.

  He loved those kids so much, it made his heart ache.

  They said good-bye to Erica and Lee and took their selfie, then ran back to the car to hurry to Manassas, a Civil War battlefield they hoped only a few other teams would visit, but odds were they all would. It was directly on the route.

  In minutes, they were back on the road heading toward the battleground, and Sean tried to shake off worry for his sister. He was on a silly, nerdy, wonderful scavenger hunt heading to his best friend’s wedding while watching for a tail and protecting his boss’s beautiful cousin whom he’d lusted after for years.

  Just another normal day.

  They crossed the Potomac and passed the Pentagon and Arlington National Cemetery before merging onto the interstate that would take them to Manassas.

  Beside him, Hazel let out a contented sigh. “They’re a fun bunch. Your friends.”

  “They’re your friends too. You know every one of them.”

  “More acquaintances. Except Ivy, Alec, and Isabel, of course.”

  “And me,” he felt a compulsion to add.

  “I’d like to consider you a friend, but it’s not like we ever talk unless forced together. You’ve never emailed me because you read a book you thought I’d like, and I’ve never texted you just to say hi. Friends communicate when they aren’t face-to-face.”

  He considered her words and knew she was right. The strange part was, there’d been plenty of times when he’d read a book or seen a movie or visited a place he wanted to tell Hazel about, but he’d always stopped himself from reaching out because she was the boss’s cousin and he knew deep down they could never keep it “just” friends.

  Then there was the guilt he’d felt over enjoying her so much—because he’d wanted her—in those early weeks after Dad died. Any time he’d reached for his phone to text her, he’d felt a twinge and, without quite understanding why, he’d set the phone down and filed it away as something to say to her the next time he saw her at Rav’s.

  Maybe he could let that go, but the timing was shit. Hazel was dealing with issues that were beyond him, and he couldn’t wait until his sister was better so he could return to his work abroad.

  Each round of chemo made him more eager to flee. He wanted to go back to Greece, Dubai, Saudi Arabia, or Morocco. He wanted to provide security for wealthy clients who were cutting business deals with a ridiculously high number of zeros. He wanted to run ops to recover kidnapping victims or to provide security for art and artifacts being transported in the Middle East. Every job was different, and in every one, the enemy was corporeal. It wasn’t a disease that could only be fought by poisoning your own body. Or as with his dad, a cancer that couldn’t be fought at all, no matter how many toxins he took in.

  Shit. He’d thought being a SEAL had been hard, but that was nothing compared to chemo. His sister was the bravest person he knew.

  Something about Hazel’s vulnerability triggered that same discomfort in him. He couldn’t fix her. Acting on the attraction between them, given her vulnerability, given his desire to flee at the first opportunity, would be taking advantage. Sure, he could make her feel good in the moment, but he had no intention of being there for the long haul. As soon as his sister gave him the green light, he was telling Keith to send him back to Dubai. Or Egypt. Anywhere but here.

  Acting on this thing with Hazel would be the ultimate dick move.

  He cleared his throat and chose his words carefully. “Okay, when this is all over, we’ll stay in touch. I’ll text you from Dubai, or wherever I am.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “It should happen naturally. Either we’ll stay in touch or we won’t.”

  He rolled his palms on the steering wheel. He could give her a truth. “I’ve wanted to text you lots of times since Grand Cayman. I wanted to know how you were. I wanted to share funny cat pictures I saw on the internet.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t think you wanted to hear from me, and I didn’t know if you like cat pictures.”

  �
�Cat pictures are good, but if you’d sent pictures of baby goats, I’d know you really get me.”

  “Noted.”

  They settled into silence. His mind drifted from Hazel to his sister, to his mother. She’d been full of questions about his new girlfriend and had insisted that he bring Hazel to a family dinner next week.

  He didn’t mind the lie of the fake relationship because he genuinely liked Hazel, and in an alternate universe, he could imagine them being together, but getting his mother’s hopes up that her thirty-eight-year-old son might finally settle down was a different story.

  He’d said it was too new to know if it was serious; there was no need for a family gathering to introduce Hazel, not yet. But Mom would have none of that. “Are you ashamed of your family?” she’d asked. She’d been teasing, but there was a note of hurt in her voice.

  “I just think it would be too much for Kat right now.”

  “Kat can be the judge of what she can handle. That girl has always been tougher than you.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. Kat was a powerful force. She was facing her cancer head-on, powering through the blows, while all Sean wanted to do was run. “Okay. But we’ll do it here, in my home. Otherwise you know Kat will spend days cooking and cleaning. And we’ll order takeout.”

  From the look in his mother’s eye, he knew he was going to lose the battle over takeout versus a home-cooked meal, but at least he’d set the parameters of where and when. He cleared his throat. “I, uh, suppose I should mention… My mom wants to meet you. We’re having dinner at my condo with my family next week.”

  Hazel sat bolt upright. “Shit. I’m so sorry, Sean. Maybe this will be all over by then and you can tell your mom the truth.”

  “Tell her I lied to her? Hell, no.”

  “It’s not like you had a choice. It’s your job.”

  “Still no. She won’t understand. She’d probably ground me for a week.”

  Hazel laughed. “And take away your video games?”

  “Yep. Dinner with my family is happening no matter what.”

  “Should I be nervous?”

  “Nah. They’ll love you.” They would. With her PhD and work for ICMP, she would have Katrina’s awe and his mom’s respect. Katrina was a social justice warrior, and his mom had been a middle school history and government teacher for thirty-five years.

  “Do they know I’m white?”

  He nodded. “And they know we’ve known each other for years. My mom is reading a lot into me bringing you to the wedding.”

  “Which is understandable. Especially since you already had a date lined up.” Hazel paused. “Is she…going to be at the wedding tomorrow? Your date?”

  “Yes.”

  “Shit,” she muttered. “Is she going to hate me?”

  “No. She’s cool. Tricia’s an operative, a friend of Ian’s. I asked her to be my date because I knew Trina was planning something for the caravan, and it was a couples’ thing.” Hazel didn’t need to know that Tricia had admitted she’d hoped something would happen between them this weekend, and he certainly wouldn’t tell her he’d considered making a move if it felt right. Hazel felt guilty enough as it was.

  And the real truth was, if he’d been granted the ability to choose any woman in the world for his date this weekend, crazy as it was, the woman sitting next to him was the person he’d have chosen.

  “Tricia. I’ve met her. Tall, gorgeous, African American? Former cop?”

  “That’s Tricia.”

  “I’m sorry, Sean.”

  “Stop with the apologies, Hazel. I chose this. I could have said no. I didn’t. This isn’t your fault.”

  “It feels like my fault. You could have a gorgeous, kickass operative as your date, but you’re stuck with me.”

  “I have a gorgeous, brilliant, kickass scientist as my date. I’m not complaining.”

  “I wasn’t fishing for that.”

  “And I don’t take bait.”

  She was silent a moment, then said, “I’m sorry. Thank you. That was a lovely compliment, and I’m being rude. I just feel like I usurped Tricia’s place, and I’m a little envious because your friends are really great. I want to belong here.”

  “Sweetheart, you aren’t a usurper. You’re Ivy’s sister. Alec’s cousin. Isabel’s friend. And I like you. Very much.” He released the wheel and threaded his fingers through hers. “I’m glad you’re my date this weekend.”

  She squeezed his fingers. “Thank you.” After a short stretch of silence, she asked, “Is it weird, being the only Black person in the group?”

  “Not really—this is only a fraction of my world. An important fraction, but still just a sample. Raptor is a pretty diverse company overall. Tomorrow at the wedding you’ll meet several Black, Hispanic, and Asian operatives. My guess is the people of color make up about forty percent of the staff—it’s a rough mirror of military and law enforcement, where most employees come from. Frankly, at events like this it’s harder being the single guy than being the Black guy. Trina has been trying to fix me up with everyone under the sun since we first met.”

  “Have you gone on any dates?”

  “Nah. I don’t do blind dates. Especially not ones arranged by my boss’s wife.”

  She snickered. “Good point.”

  They fell into a companionable silence. He took the exit for Manassas and spotted Undine and Luke as they drove out of the main parking lot. They traded waves, and he parked as close as he could to the sign. Another nine-point stop. Less if others had chosen this battleground as well.

  Not that he really cared about winning. This was all about the game. The time with Hazel. The strategy. He liked winning, but more than anything, he wanted her to have fun today. To lose the shadows from her eyes.

  He snapped a picture of the two of them in front of the sign, and they were back on the road in minutes. “Where to next?”

  “We’ve got eighteen—maybe less—points so far. We need some ten-point stops if we want to win.”

  “Of course we want to win.” It was what she’d expect him to say, plus it would make her smile.

  On cue, she did, and his heart warmed. “My bad,” she said. “I forgot SEAL pride was at stake.”

  “The only easy day was yesterday.”

  She laughed. “I’m sure this compares to dropping into a hot zone on an op.”

  “Unmarried best man at a wedding? Hell, yeah. Thank goodness I have you as my shield.”

  “I’ll protect you from all the matrimony-starved guests who see you as fresh meat.”

  “Thank you. So where are we going next?”

  She studied her phone. “There’s an historic district that’s also a Civil War battle site on the route—Moorefield Historic District, in West Virginia. That’ll be twenty-five points, but it’s after lunch. We should probably hit some museums en route. Lunch is in Front Royal—about forty-five minutes from here. Ha! There’s a beer museum in Front Royal. That’ll be another ten pints—I mean points.”

  Sean laughed. “Sixteen pints, but only three points, I bet, considering everyone will stop there.”

  “It’s near a Confederate museum. I’m good with skipping that.”

  “But no one else would dare go there. We can take a photo outside the museum. Get the points without giving them our money.”

  “Works for me. Lunch is at a tap house and grill a few blocks away.”

  “There’s an Appalachian trailhead near Front Royal, right?” he asked.

  “Yes. It’s near Shenandoah National Park. If we went to the trail inside the park, we’d get twenty-five points.”

  “Doubt we’d have enough time to drive from the park entrance to the trail and still make it to lunch on time.”

  “Then we should go to the trailhead on 522. It’s just…” She tapped her phone. “Seven minutes from the beer museum. If everyone else does the trailhead that’s just off the interstate, we’d get the full ten points for going a little out of our way.”

>   “Sounds good. Trailhead first. Then the two museums. Five stops before lunch, with a twenty-five-point historic district lined up after lunch. All we need is to figure out our last stop.”

  They drove in companionable silence until they reached Front Royal. He took the exit and headed toward the trailhead south of town.

  “Have you ever hiked the trail?” she asked.

  “Only day hikes in a few sections. I’ve always wanted to do the whole thing.”

  “Same. But I’ve never had that kind of free time. And…I’ll be honest, I’ve examined the remains of a few women who were dumped in the woods—so I’m not keen on doing something like that by myself.”

  “I can see how that would get in your head.”

  “It’s bad enough knowing what knives do to bones. The damage to soft tissue, the pain those women suffered… I have to put myself in their skin—when they had skin—and reconstruct it. Each case has stayed with me, especially the two who couldn’t be identified. The women who will never have a voice.”

  The trailhead was little more than a small dirt lot where the trail crossed the road. But the sign was there, and a boardwalk section of trail disappeared under a canopy of green and yellow leaves.

  He parked in the empty dirt lot and faced Hazel, cupping her cheek. “Your work is important. I know it’s hard when you can’t have closure with a case, but it’s pretty fantastic that you try.”

  He pressed his lips to her forehead and breathed in her scent. It was a good thing he hadn’t seen this side of Hazel in Grand Cayman, or he might’ve found her irresistible.

  “Thanks. Sorry I went there. It creeps up on me at times.”

  “Totally understandable. Remember, I was in the military for fifteen years. I work in private security and operate in war zones at times. I know the darker side of the job. I know how easy it is to get sucked in.”

  She looked out the windshield. “Thanks. For understanding. And this is a beautiful trail. Maybe what I need is to take a break and do the trail. I could probably find a friend to do it with me. There are a few guys I worked with in Croatia who are due home soon and who will have two or three months off and the same need to escape.”