Truth Avenged (Green Division Series Book 1)

by Ashley Monahan

  “I’m hungry. You’re hungry. Food seems like the solution to our problem.” He laced his shoes. “Chinese?”

  “Oh god, you have no idea how good that sounds.” She returned. “But, I’ll pick it up. You bought dinner a couple nights ago. It’s only fair I repay you.”

  “You order it in about thirty minutes and I’ll pick it up.”

  “Tuck—”

  “Regardless of you ignoring your doctor’s orders and running around against their wishes, I’m not going to have you doing so on my watch.”

  His watch. Get a grip Tuck. It’s Paul’s watch, not yours.

  “China Moon?” He suggested.

  China Moon was a small hole in the wall restaurant about fifteen minutes away from Chance’s house.

  “You read my mind.”

  Tuck gave her his order and headed south. China Moon had the best Chinese food in the area, to die for. His stomach turned, but not with hunger. It was conflict over what the hell he was doing. He shouldn’t be involved with her to the extent he’d become, no matter how innocent their relationship was.

  *****

  The little voicemail indicator flashed on Chance’s phone, but she had no missed calls. Friggen reception was stellar in Maine.

  “Chance, its Mike Kerr.” He didn’t refer to himself as Sergeant. “Give me a call as soon as you get this message.”

  Chance called him back.

  “Hi Chance. One of my guys got an anonymous lead about a possible suspect in your case. We have a picture of the man and need you to take a look at it. Would you be able to meet me? I’ll be at the office until at least eight.”

  What was Chance to say? No, I invited Tuck over to talk to him about the plane crash. Would his Sergeant be okay with Tuck coming over? She never thought about that aspect of the equation. Hmmm....

  “If he’s any larger than 5’7 and 150 pounds, he’s not the shooter.” Chance said.

  “We were thinking it’s our second man.”

  “I didn’t get a good enough look at him. All I know is that he had a beard and was overweight. I couldn’t begin to identify him. I wish I could.”

  She didn’t want to see a picture. Didn’t want to see their faces. Didn’t want to see either one of them again. She wished that aspect of the day could be pushed out of her memory permanently.

  “If you don’t recognize him, we aren’t out anything. But, I still need you to look on the off chance it could trigger something in your memory.”

  “Um, I’m really not up to it tonight, I’m exhausted. I forget that I have a bullet wound and exhaust myself.” One hundred percent the truth. She didn’t want to move from the couch the rest of the evening. “Can I come in tomorrow morning?”

  “I’d prefer you come in tonight.” He paused. She didn’t fold under his pressure. “If he’s our guy, he knows we’re onto him Chance. And that puts you in danger.”

  “They don’t know my name. This wasn’t in the paper, I was never identified. They’d have no way to find me. How would they?” She sat up and her body went rigid.

  “It’s a small community. This whole state is small. We didn’t release your name, but word of mouth is faster than any press. I’m sure they know.”

  That didn’t settle well with her.

  “You shouldn’t be alone. Your parents are from Seattle, right? Perhaps you should visit with them until this all settles down.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. My life is fucked up enough as it is. I have a top of the line security system and a .22. I think I’ll be able to take care of myself, the playing field is even now.” She didn’t feel nearly as confident as she projected.

  “I suggest you stay with someone.”

  Didn’t he mimic Tuck. “Thank you for your concern, but I’ll be okay.”

  Kerr didn’t answer right away. She had the feeling this man could be very intimidating in his element. She would have been more apt to listen if he’d been staring her down.

  “Call us if anything seems out of the ordinary. The police will continue to step up patrols around your neighborhood.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Call me tomorrow.”

  “I will, thank you.”

  The phone hung up.

  Chance’s excitement over her new discoveries were now shadowed by the development in her case.

  *****

  Tuck pulled into the driveway food in tow. Dusk had fallen, but floodlights surrounding the lawn illuminated Chance’s house as though it were daylight. She answered the door and he immediately could see the worry on her face. She wouldn’t own up to it without being interrogated of course, but he detected it.

  “What’s wrong?” He asked, putting the food on her kitchen counter.

  “Nothing’s wrong. Why would you think something is wrong?” She was far too quick with her response. “Have you talked to any of your warden friends today?”

  “No, I’m officially off your case.” He cocked his head to the side. “Why?”

  “Apparently they have a suspect. Not the shooter, the man with him.”

  “That’s good news.” He was instantly pissed that Ryan, Mitch, and/or Kerr had left him out of the loop. He’d deal with them later.

  “If it was the man who shot me and he was behind bars, where the fucking asshole belongs, I’d agree. But it’s not.” She opened the bags and calmed herself. “Anyway, let’s eat and talk about what I found out today.”

  “No, hold on for a moment.” He put his hand atop of hers and prevented her from prepping their food, this wasn’t the end of the conversation. “Who is their suspect?”

  “I don’t know. Kerr asked me to come take a look at a picture, but I’m tired and I told him I would tomorrow.”

  “God Chance, this isn’t the kind of thing you should wait on. I can’t believe Kerr let you blow him off.”

  She returned to the bag withdrawing one of the boxes inside.

  “Whether I look at it today, or tomorrow, it won’t matter. This is not what I wanted to talk to you about. The plane—”

  Tuck cut her off. “It’s what I want to talk to you about. I’m more worried about you than that damn plane.” His admission stunned him.

  She pulled a box of rice from the bag and her hand faltered. It dropped to the tiled floor and splashed in all directions.

  “Shit.” She let out an exasperated sigh and leaned against the counter. “There goes dinner.”

  She grabbed a roll of paper towels from the countertop.

  “I’ve got it.” He put his hand on her back caringly and took the towels.

  He scooped up the last of the rice and put it in the trash. Chance washed the spot on the floor and tossed the rag in the sink.

  “I can’t ID him. Why is that so damn hard to believe?” She rubbed her eyes. “I’m tired, I don’t want to deal with this tonight.”

  “When will it be a good night?” His tone was light and sympathetic, but he wanted to make his point. She turned and opened a cupboard door retrieving two plates.

  “Not tonight.” She passed him a plate. “Let’s eat. Before I drop the rest.”

  “You’re going to meet with Kerr tomorrow.”

  “Yes.” She didn’t elaborate.

  They loaded up their plates and sat at the table together. They ate in silence until Tuck broke down and changed the topic.

  “Are you going to tell me about the janitor, or keep me in suspense?”

  “I thought you didn’t care.”

  “I didn’t say that.” He put a forkful of the remainder of rice that hadn’t spilled on the floor into his mouth. “Come on, spill. That’s why you invited me over here.”

  That wasn’t the only reason she’d invited him over. And it wasn’t the only reason he came.

  Chance filled him in on the day’s events and what she’d learned. She showed him the pictures of Squirrel and the plane. John White. Tuck laughed at the name. “Hell of a name to track down. Might as well be John Doe.”

  “Do yo
u believe me now? At least a little bit?” Chance put the pictures back in the envelope.

  “I’ll admit I’m intrigued. So, where do you go from here?”

  “Those five men in the front row, their names are written on the back of that picture. It identifies them as US Airmen. The remainder of the men it just say USAAFC. I haven’t checked to see what that means yet. Google will figure it all out for me tonight and I’ll go from there.”

  “They are cadets. These five men in the front have their wings and stripes.” He pointed on the photo. “These men behind them don’t.”

  “Oh.” She felt a bit dumb. That was any easy thing to infer from the photo, she’d just been too overloaded with other information to process it. “One mystery solved.” She flopped the envelope onto the kitchen table.

  “I’m trying to get records from the military, but I doubt I’ll get far. I don’t know. I think I found something I obviously wasn’t supposed to.”

  “Hmmm, conspiracy theorist.”

  “What other explanation do you have?”

  “I don’t have any.” He pushed his chair back and stretched out. It was 9:00 p.m. and they both were ready to fall asleep. “I should get going. If I don’t, I’ll be passing out here.” He smiled.

  I wouldn’t mind if you did. Chance thought as she smiled back at him. She had neglected to tell him the quip about Kerr saying the suspect had been tipped off. If she had, she knew that he’d go on the same tirade about her staying alone like Kerr had, blah, blah, blah.

  “You know, I have some lawyerly connections myself. If you write down the names, I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “Really?” She was surprised by his offer.

  “Yes, really.” He raised an eyebrow. She grabbed a piece of paper and pen. “I’ll make a couple calls.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You made me a conspirator to all this. I’ll be running with you when the government starts chasing.”

  “Don’t make fun of me mister warden.” They’d gone back to their playful banter. She opened the front door for him.

  “I’ll see what I can do for you.” He held up the piece of paper.

  “Thanks.” He walked down the front steps. “Get some coffee and roll your windows down.” She hollered from the house.

  “Okay, Mom.” He hollered back. He got into his truck and she closed the front door. He picked up his cell phone and dialed as he pulled onto road.

  “Claire....No, I’m not calling to talk to you about that....I need a favor. You owe me this much.”

  *****

  BEEP, BEEP, BEEP

  Startled from the noise, Chance fell off the bed and landed on the floor. Talk about being caught off guard. She writhed on the floor before getting her bearing to realize it was the alarm in her house. There was nothing in the hallway from what she could see. Bat in hand, she quietly walked toward the alarm panel and shut it off. All was silent. Not a noise to be heard. She only had perimeter alarms, so someone tried to get in, or had gotten in. If she was smart, she would have gone back into her bedroom, locked the door, and waited for the police to arrive...and had the .22 in hand, not an aluminum bat. If the alarm company worked as promised, the police would automatically be sent. This was not the way she intended to test the theory. She walked room to room, clearing it as she went. The panel said back door motion. She had to pass through most of the rooms in the house to reach the back door and all were clear of any intruders. She reached the back door and it was securely locked, no sign that anyone had tried to force their way inside.

  RING, RING, RING

  The phone almost took a violent impact from the bat. Instead Chance calmed her nerves enough to answer it. It was the alarm company. The alarm system worked as it should. She told them her house seemed to be clear, but she wanted the police to continue to check properly. She was rattled as hell. She sat on a bar stool on edge as she waited for the police to arrive.

  Two officers from the local department thoroughly checked her house from top to bottom and outside her house as well. Nothing. No footsteps were visible. The stone path that led to her backdoor was dry, no footprints from the dew. With the house secure, they cleared and went back to work. She rechecked every lock in the house and armed the house alarm.

  Couldn’t they try to break in at a more convenient time of night? Like the break of dawn so she could have a gotten a few hours sleep. She’d barely fallen asleep when the alarm sounded and as a result of the “faulty alarm”, couldn’t fathom sleeping again. Ever. The dining room table shook as she nervously jiggled her leg below, her phone sliding about. Her phone…Tuck. Tuck equaled safety and empathy. He was the only one who made her feel safe. Not Paul, not her family. She picked up the phone and thought hard about dialing him. She knew he’d be over in a heartbeat. He said he would. It would be rude to wake him at that hour. She was an adult, she needed to man up and grow some cahones.

  The refrigerator kicked on and the fan sounded loudly.

  “Jesus Christ!” She jumped and nearly fell out of the chair. This was getting old. Fast.

  *****

  Tuck didn’t expect a 1:30 a.m. phone call from Chance. She’d taken him up on his offer to call anytime, day or night. Her voice at the other end was the most pleasant wakeup call he’d ever received. Preferable any day over a Green dispatcher.

  “What’s the real reason you’re calling me at this time of the morning?” He finally cut to the point. She’d made small talk for nearly ten minutes.

  “I can’t sleep.” She hadn’t left the kitchen table.

  As he struggled to stay awake, Tuck wondered what drew Chance to Paul. He came and went as he pleased, never there for her when she needed him. Work came first. Chance wasn’t even on the radar.

  “Tuck.”

  “Mmmm.” He muttered.

  “Can you come over?”

  “Um...” He wrestled with his conscience in a haze of exhaustion. It was one thing to visit her during respectable hours. At the hour in the morning which they were talking, it was a horse of a different color.

  “I’m sorry.” Regret was detectable in her voice. “I shouldn’t have asked you that. I don’t know where my mind is.” She expelled a deep breath.

  “Don’t be sorry.” He yawned. “If you want me to come over, I will.” He shouldn’t. Nope, definitely shouldn’t.

  “My burglar alarm went off after midnight. The police came and checked it out, but—”

  “Someone tried to get in?” That woke him up.

  “I don’t know. They said it was a false alarm, but it’s all a little too convenient. The wardens tip off the suspect this afternoon and then my alarm goes off.”

  Tuck yanked a tee shirt over his head and pulled on a pair of jeans. Who the hell would be so obtuse as to tip off a suspect? He’d like to have a word with the dumbass.

  “Tip him off—did they interview him?”

  “I don’t know what they did. Maybe I shouldn’t have talked to Kerr.”

  Yes, you should have. Kerr let her blow him off knowing this? What the hell?

  “When did I become such a scared little girl? This isn’t me.” Fatigue came through clear on the other end of the phone. “Probably about the same time I got shot, huh.”

  She laughed, a fake laugh if he’d ever heard one.

  “I’ll come over.”

  “No, I’m being ridiculous. I’m tired. And frustrated. I’ll calm down.” She let out another deep sigh. “Talking to you helps.”

  That statement sealed the deal. He laced his shoes and grabbed his keys. “I’ve told you all along I don’t want you to be alone. I’m on my way out the door.”

  “You don’t have to come over.”

  “Look for me in about forty five.”

  The truck drove itself there, the route had become familiar. His instinct to protect her was in overdrive. It came natural and he wished he could turn off the urge. Paul could take a few lessons from Tuck’s behavioral patterns. Protect those you love.r />
  *****

  Chance dropped her head onto the table. Tuck had to think she was the most pathetic loser in the world. That was too small a comparison. The most pathetic loser in the universe and beyond. She wanted to be brave and stoic, and tough as nails. She had been. But then, she was shot. And her world had been flipped upside down and inside out in its wake. A world only stabilized by one solid presence in her life.

  The living room had a form of distraction for her troubled mind. She popped in a DVD of Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen and curled up on the couch. The pain in her side reignited, likely due to the graceful fall she’d taken from the bed onto the hardwood floor. It would pass, she reminded herself. In the meantime she occupied herself by admiring the stellar acting skills of Josh Duhamel. And perhaps admire his tight muscles flexing under his uniform.

  Josh Duhamel’s gorgeous eyes kept her mind properly occupied until Tuck arrived. Wait, no, it was his acting skills, right. Tuck called her phone as he pulled into the driveway so not to alarm her at the door. His face was a welcome sight.

  “Hey,” she said.

  He dropped his coat on the back of the kitchen chair and kicked off his shoes.

  “I should lecture you.” He gave her a knowing glare.

  “I know. Which is exactly why I didn’t tell you.” She sat on the middle cushion of the couch, Transformers continued on the flat screen television, robots battling one another. “I’ve become such a burden on everyone, especially you.”

  He sat on the couch next to her.

  “You’ve never been a burden on me.”

  He’s just being nice. This was another one of those nights she wanted a drink. Now.

  “I need a drink.” She blurted out. “Do you want one?” She stood up.

  “I’m all set.”

  She walked into the kitchen and opened the twelve pack of Mikes Hard Fruit Punch. She withdrew one glass bottle and screwed the top off. Relief wouldn’t be found in a 12 oz bottle of watered down malt liquor. She downed the first bottle barely stopping for air and followed it with a second.