No Options

by Jennifer Haynie

  “What about those who care about you?”

  “Like you do.” She was as good at slinging verbal daggers as the next person.

  He pulled back completely. “Actually, yeah, I do.”

  “Then why did you go running home when things got rough?” Twist that dagger, Abigail.

  His eyes narrowed. “Mom and Dad needed my help. They asked, I came.”

  Hot tears suddenly burned in her eyes. “You wanted to escape. They gave you an out. You—”

  “No, you were so tangled up in your work. I couldn’t take it anymore.” His voice rose. “I can’t compete with Colonel Boone, can I?”

  “Yeah?” Her volume shot past his. “Well I can’t compete with ghosts from your past!”

  “Hey! Hey! Hey!” Jonathan shouted.

  Abigail whipped around. He stood on his balcony, then climbed onto the railing. Without hesitation, he leapt the five-foot gap and clambered over the wrought iron. He jumped between them.

  She jabbed her fists onto her hips. “What’d you do? Watch too many reruns of American Ninja Warrior?”

  “No, I’m trying to break up a fight.”

  David, nostrils flared and lips flat, took a few more steps back. Each one drove a nail through her heart. “I was just leaving. Nice talking to you, Abigail.”

  A moment later, the door slammed.

  Jonathan gazed at the door. “What was that about?”

  Tears stung her eyes. “We can’t agree to disagree.”

  “I’m sorry.” He huffed out a breath. “Want to come with me to supper?”

  She glared at him. “I just ate.” With that jerk, she almost added.

  “Well, then why don’t you have a drink with me or something? I could use the company, and you wanted to talk with me.”

  Yeah, she’d forgotten about the case, if only for a few minutes. “Uh, sure.”

  With that, she fled into the bathroom. Once inside, she turned on the fan and retreated to the water closet, where she plopped onto the toilet and rested her head in her hands. Once more, David Shepherd had brought her, the woman who didn’t cry in the worst of situations, to tears.

  15

  Wednesday, April 19, 2017, 1930 hours MDT, Burning Tree UT

  “Looks like you need a friend right now,” Jonathan said as he tucked into his entree of trout, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Maybe his second favorite dish behind the lamb one at Kyra Lane Café and Restaurant.

  Abigail scowled and sipped a rum and Coke. “Something like that.”

  For a moment, he stared at the television. Baseball tempted him—until he peered closer at his sister. Redness rimmed her eyes. He knew she’d cried earlier, had heard her tears even with the bathroom fan running. Now, her brow furrowed, and her lips turned downward. David had put that expression there. Once more, divided loyalties tore at him. He loved his sister, loved his best friend. To have them at each other’s throats pained him. “I’m sorry. You know I care about you both.”

  She sighed and called for another drink. “I know. And I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle.”

  “Not going to happen this time.” He rubbed her back. “I’ve been praying about this. I can’t see you two apart.”

  “Well, pray harder.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s impossible now. I’m interested in someone else.”

  Sadness tugged at his heart, yet so did hope. David hadn’t seemed serious about his relationship with Monica Wiseman. And he’d been totally into Abigail earlier that evening. “I will. I love you, sis.”

  “Same here.” She cleared her throat. “Do you mind if we talk about The Mighty Men?”

  He hunched. “I guess.”

  She summarized what she’d found out from David.

  He rested his chin on his hand as he listened to what his friend had said about Jessie. “Yeah, good old Jessie.”

  “Huh?” She frowned. “Why do you say that?”

  He shifted. “He was a good guy. Good at his work even though he was green. I never worried about him having my back.”

  “Then what was the issue?”

  “Pardon my bluntness, but it when it came to his marriage, Tina wore the pants. What Tina wanted, Tina got.”

  She jotted that down. “Like designer clothes and fancy cars?”

  “Yep. The only thing he couldn’t seem to give her was a child.” Jessie’s complaints about his wife, especially her pushing them toward in vitro fertilization, penetrated his memories. “We talked about it some. I don’t know why since I was single, but he took me into his confidence. Seems they’d been trying for a child since they’d been married with no success. They’d finally gone with IVF.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Nope. I’m obviously no expert, but I imagine it’s hard to be successful if the guy’s not around that much. I have a feeling that by combining IVF with her other expensive tastes, they were swimming in debt.”

  “And a primary target for someone with less-than-honorable purposes,” she muttered as she shoved her drink aside. She hesitated as if weighing her words. “What contact did you have with the MPs when you were in Kandahar?”

  What a shift in topic. Then again, she probably knew something he didn’t. “Not much. I mean, our head shed, which included Captain, had some contact with them, but not us grunts. I know they were responsible for interfacing with the other NATO folks on base and providing direct security for us.”

  She flipped back a couple of pages. “Sal was XO of that battalion.”

  With his fork in mid-air, he paused. “What? You’re kidding me.”

  “Nope. He told me he was stationed at Bragg before he came to Quantico.” She shivered.

  “You cold?”

  “No. Just... thinking.”

  “Try me.”

  Abigail ran her fingers along the copper top of the bar. “I’m... well, I’m doing an off-the-books of investigation of the Athena file’s disappearance last year.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  As she rested her elbows on the edge of the bar, she told him about her CO’s threat the year before. “After everything that happened in 2010, I didn’t want another black mark in my file.”

  He stared at her. “He threatened you?”

  Abigail nodded. “Then when I came back to work on Monday, I asked Gabe about the Athena file’s disappearance last year. He didn’t know what I was talking about, but he should have, because Sal should have given it to him to assign to someone in the Computer Crimes Unit.”

  “Sal lied about it?”

  “It makes sense.” She shifted her drink around in wet circles on the copper. “Why else would he threaten me when I asked a simple question?”

  “True.”

  “That’s why this little side job is something he doesn’t know about.”

  The year before an ambush had taken twenty-four lives of his staff and clients at SecureLink’s Ghazni compound. Chip Johnson’s shout ripped across the radio. Taliban ambush. A burning bus with bodies in it. Blood dribbling down the side of one of their jeeps. All dead. And his fiancée, Christine... Her sightless eyes stared up at him as a breeze tousled some of her hair against a cheek already gray with death.

  Then came his own kidnapping. He winced as his body remembered the sting of a taser in his side. And the beatings. Even now, he flinched. But maybe his sister was on to something. “Wait. Nicole had the Athena file on a jump drive, which is what I found in Ghazni after Christine’s murder. She was supposed to get it to Shamal Khan, right?”

  “As best we could tell.”

  “And Shamal is known as a poppy grower. Guns for drugs is what I remember.”

  “Uh-huh. If it’s as I suspect, then Sal would have been the one to send the jump drive to Nicole.” She reached down and pulled her laptop from her backpack. “Keep eating. I want to do a bit of searching.”

  Nausea swelled in Jonathan as memories from the year before poured over the breached dam of his mind. The aromas swirling in the air twist
ed his stomach. He hopped down from his chair. “I’ll, uh, be right back.”

  He fled to the bathroom, burst into one of the stalls, and hung his head over the bowl. His stomach heaved, but nothing came up. Sweat beaded on his brow, just as it had when one of Nicole’s gang had beaten him last year with pool balls in a sock. Internal bruising. Torn shoulder ligaments that took weeks to heal. Once more, Christine’s sightless eyes stared at him. And that stench from the ambush site and the burning bus that had trapped several of their clients. Never would he forget it. Ever. His stomach jumped again. God, why can’t I just be at peace? Let it go?

  He settled onto his rump and rested against the wall. Cold sweat trickled down his face. Deep breaths eased the nausea. Finally, he hauled himself to his feet and wobbled to the bar.

  Abigail glanced at him. Concern emanated from her eyes, but she didn’t say a word as her fingers flew across the keyboard. “There it is.”

  He leaned closer. “What?”

  “I was looking at postings for Sal and Nicole. They were stationed at Fort Bliss together at the same time twelve years ago. And El Paso is Sal’s hometown.”

  Something teased the edges of his mind. He noticed Lisa Lane, Kyra’s business partner, helping a waiter clear a table that had held eight. Monday, Monica had met him here to exchange information. “This might be connected. Something strange came up related to our case. I’d found a torn piece of paper in the back of the armored truck. The sheriff had the Utah State Bureau of Investigation lab run an analysis for her on a rush job. It contained heroin.”

  Abigail shut the laptop’s lid. “How is that germane to the Athena file investigation?”

  “It came from Afghanistan.”

  “Do you know specifically where?”

  He sighed and shook his head. “Not right now. The lab forwarded it to the FBI.”

  She flipped a page in the composition notebook where she’d been scribbling. Flowers. Cats. All seemingly useless doodles except he knew she came up with her best ideas while doing so. “Here’s my long-shot theory.”

  He took a deep breath. “Try me.”

  “Keep in mind I don’t want to be right. Last year, Shamal Khan asked Sal to steal the Athena file. After all, he had a long-standing relationship with Sal where guns got run via Nicole to Shamal. In exchange, Sal, who’s going by the code name El Lobo, got heroin to deal. The Athena file was a bonus because it’s all about Nabeelah, the only one remaining from her tribe who broke faith with the Taliban. With that information, Shamal could hunt her down. Sal stole the file and put it on a jump drive. He sent it to Nicole. The ambush happened, and you discovered the drive and took it.”

  He snorted. “And that got me kidnapped and nearly beaten to death.”

  “Probably because of Nicole’s failure, Shamal broke ties with Sal. He then found another arms dealer.”

  Suddenly, it clicked. “Jedidiah Stone.”

  “Then the SecureLink convoy is ambushed not too far from here, and the cargo’s taken at the cost of six lives.”

  Jonathan nodded. “It could be a dispute between Sal and Jedidiah.”

  “Agreed.” She sighed as she flipped a few pages forward. “Sal’s being involved in the ambush of the Mighty Men wouldn’t make sense. Now I understand what Nabeelah was saying.”

  “Huh?”

  “She showed up at Mama’s and Daddy’s graves last weekend.”

  He shook his head. “I told David that whenever she shows up, trouble follows.” An idea flew into his mind. “Hey, come with us tomorrow.”

  “What?”

  “We’re headed to meet with Jedidiah Stone at his house at the edge of Goblin Valley.” He raised his hand and called for a slice of chocolate silk pie.

  “We?”

  “David and me. And Sheriff Wiseman. Why don’t you come along?”

  “Uh...” She hesitated as if desperately seeking an excuse to avoid her ex-boyfriend.

  “Seriously. You might learn something.”

  “What could he share that would be meaningful to my investigations?”

  “If Jedidiah Stone and Sal are rivals vying for Khan’s heroin, then there could be a link between our investigations. Who knows? That armored truck was most likely full of heroin.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him.

  “Promise that’s all I’ll ask of you.”

  “All right,” she drawled in a Southern accent only she could muster. “But after that, I’m outta here.”

  “Understood. Maybe then, we’ll both get some answers.”

  Wednesday, April 19, 2017, 2230 hours EDT, Quantico, VA

  Sal spooned with his wife. He nuzzled her hair. Ahh. That faint spice of her peppermint body splash nearly drove him wild. He kissed her just below the ear as he ran his hand along her arm, then her waist. She almost purred like Amelia’s cat. Did he ever enjoy their semi-weekly “appointments,” especially when she dressed up for them—like wearing that blood-red negligee that made his mouth water. He smiled.

  On the nightstand, his phone chirped with a text notification. He turned onto his back.

  Rita stilled. “Don’t.”

  He glanced at it anyway. Francis. Something came up at WORK.

  The way he’d put that last word in all caps told Sal everything he needed to know. This wasn’t about their day jobs. With a sigh, he sat up.

  Rita did too, and she pulled the sheets along with her, leaving the luscious olive skin of her back exposed.

  He skimmed his fingers along her spine. “Beloved, I’m sorry. I have to take this. It’ll be just a few minutes.” He lifted her hair and kissed her at the base of her neck. “This evening is by no means over.”

  She smiled and stepped into the bathroom. The shower started.

  Once he knew she was ensconced under the hot water, he pulled on the pair of sweats and the long-sleeved T-shirt he’d worn earlier that evening. Flip phone in hand, he tiptoed down the hall, past the girls’ room and his study, and downstairs to the kitchen. Only then did he dial Francis’s number. “What do you have?”

  On the other end, a door shut, and a patio chair scraped on concrete. “Something interesting. I set up the tripwires this morning as you asked. I’ve gotten two hits related to Katrina Miller.”

  Sal leaned against the kitchen table. “And those would be?”

  “Someone accessed the password change logs for the Army Intelligence Center in Huachuca. They checked Katrina Miller’s dates of password change. Then shortly after that, they accessed camera logs for the Center for February 12, 2016.”

  Sal’s hand tightened on the wooden back of a chair. “Who?”

  “Gabe Santos.”

  The very one in charge of the Computer Crimes Unit. He could reprimand him, but Gabe would question why. Not a good idea and just one more person to watch.

  “Keep an eye on things and report to me any information related to those.” Sal disconnected and dialed another number. When a man two thousand miles away answered, he forced a smile to his face. “Mitch Patterson, it’s been a long time, eh?”

  “What do you want?” No friendly return greeting. No enthusiasm for that matter.

  “Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. That’s rude.”

  “I don’t care.” Mitch Patterson, someone else in his debt, blew out a hard breath. “I did your dirty work last year. That’s as much as I cared to do. I don’t hunt humans for a living when I’m not under orders.”

  “Oh, but you were.”

  “You know what I mean. I’m done.”

  Sal narrowed his eyes. “You’re done when I say you’re done. I have another assignment for you, and this one does not involve killing.”

  “What?” That word came out hard, flat, as if Patterson knew he’d already lost.

  Sal thought about his conversation with his brother just two days before. Los Jaguares wanted Abigail dead. He’d demurred. Now, she’d obviously started an illicit investigation into the Athena file theft. It would only be a matter of time before she made the conn
ection to him. She needed to die. “Abigail Ward is in Burning Tree to talk to David Shepherd and her brother. Go there in the morning. I’m sure she’ll be at the diner since there’s nowhere else to eat. Find out her plans, then let me know.”

  And if he were fortunate, she would no longer be an issue.

  Patterson growled, “All right, then, I’ll call you.”

  “I’ll expect to hear from you.” Sal made one more call, this one to his brother, Enrique, master of all things heroin for Los Jaguares on this side of the border. His brother roundly approved of his plan and promised to put the needed personnel and equipment in place. When he finished, he hung up, climbed the stairs and returned the phone to its hiding place.

  For a moment he stood there. In less than twelve hours, it would all be over with. Nothing else to worry about. A smile crossed his face. Even from where he stood, the smell of peppermint rode upon the steam sifting from the bathroom. He shucked his shirt, then his sweatpants before pushing open the door. Focusing on pleasant things would be easy indeed.

  16

  Thursday, April 20, 2017, 0730 hours MDT, Burning Tree, UT

  “Here. Have some coffee.” David shoved a mug of steaming brew toward Monica when she joined him at Moe’s Diner in Burning Tree.

  She smothered a yawn with her hand and sighed. “Thanks. Getting up at five thirty is kicking my butt.”

  “When Jonathan wants to leave at eight thirty, we leave at eight thirty. Guess it comes from our Army days.” He swung his feet onto the chair across from him. “You could have met us there, you know.”

  “Not when I can grab precious time with my sweetie.” She rested her chin on one hand as she entwined the fingers of her other with his. “Getting up extra early is worth it.”

  David barely heard her. Abigail occupied his mind. The feel of her in his arms. The taste of wine on her lips. Sweet. Alluring. Like a siren’s song wooing him. His lips tingled afresh at the memory of that kiss. And his words. He did care for her. Loved her if he got right down to it. Too bad she remained caught up in her work. It was her idol.

  Like your past is yours. You just can’t let go of it, now can you?