Dog Tags

by Heidi Glick

  He grabbed her hand. “Let me help you. I could sell the boat.”

  Beth shook her head. “I can’t take your money, and you should keep your boat.” She wiped her tear-soaked eyes.

  He hung his head. He’d fallen in love with her. If he didn’t move fast, he might lose her forever. A chance he wasn’t willing to take.

  There was so much he wanted to tell her, but the timing was off. Or maybe it wasn’t. How could he be sure?

  ****

  Mark drove over to Bill’s place. Perhaps his friend could provide some insight into the current situation.

  He knocked on the door, and Bill answered. “Come on in.”

  Stepping inside, Mark peeked around the living room. “Tim here?”

  Bill slumped into his weathered black leather couch. “Nope. What’s up?”

  Not sure where to begin, he sat next to his friend and folded his hands. “Beth is considering taking a teaching position in Columbus. Obviously, I don’t want her to leave so…” He rubbed a callous on his left hand.

  Bill snatched the remote from his coffee table and turned off the Syfy Channel. “Ah…that does change things. So have you told her anything yet?”

  “No, I—”

  “Well, not the one thing, of course. But, the other…you haven’t said anything about”—Bill cleared his throat—”you-know-what?”

  “I don’t know how. I was praying that—”

  “When you first ran into her, I totally understood your reasons for not saying anything, for waiting, but now… How can you not tell her?”

  Easy for his friend to say. He wasn’t the one risking a relationship with the woman he loved. Still, if their relationship was to go further, he’d have to be honest, even if it hurt.

  Bill tapped his fingers on the remote. “What happens if she finds out from someone else?”

  “What do you mean?”

  His friend shrugged. “I think she’d prefer to hear things from you.”

  Not many people knew. Those who did weren’t about to say anything. Then again, secrets seem to have a way of haunting people, coming out at the wrong time. “You’re right, absolutely right. I’ll tell her. Thanks.”

  “Hey, anytime.”

  He stood, and Bill patted him on the back. “She loves you, and you’ll work through this. I’m not saying it’ll be easy. Maybe you’ll need to talk to someone. But you both have a strong faith in God, and I’m sure that’ll get you through this.”

  Waving good-bye, Mark headed home. Upon entering his bedroom, he walked to his closet and stared at the box on the top shelf. Maybe it was time to deal with the past. Writing had helped him before. Maybe it would again.

  Sparky sighed, and Mark scratched the dog’s head. “Time for bed, little man?” Mark could journal about things later. For now, he needed a good night’s sleep and some prayer.

  He climbed into bed, Sparky by his side on the floor. God, give me the words to say to Beth. And please don’t let her run away from me.

  44

  Still invigorated from his talk with Bill the day before, Mark called Beth and made evening plans. He’d take her to dinner and a movie then get coffee and stop by the lighthouse. She seemed to like the place. Maybe that’d be the best location to break the news to her.

  He picked her up around six thirty. They went to the Chinese buffet at the mall.

  Beth finished a bite of her sesame chicken. “You can relax and not worry about Antonio riding into town on a white horse and trying to woo me away.”

  Mark folded his arms. “Oh, really. Why’s that?”

  “Apparently, he eloped with his high school sweetheart and moved to Oregon.”

  “Interesting.” Maybe Antonio felt motivated by fear of losing the woman he loved. As long as that woman wasn’t Beth, good for him.

  After dinner, the two of them headed toward Riversdale Cinemas. Mark remembered he needed to stop by Fishy Business and make sure the back door was locked. It’d take him a moment, and they’d be on their way to the movies. He might even have time to grab a soda. His mouth remained on fire from the Kung Pao he’d eaten.

  “Whose cars are those?” Beth pointed to a green vehicle with someone inside, parked at the far end of the lot next to two other cars, one yellow, one red.

  “Probably from Fan Fare next door. They don’t have much parking, so some of their patrons park here. As long as they’re not causing problems, I don’t care.” Another reason to check the lock. He and Beth ambled to the door, and he checked the knob—just as it should be. Using his key, he let them inside then walked to the cooler and retrieved a soft drink. “Do you want something to drink?”

  Beth nodded then chuckled.

  “Care to tell me what’s so funny?”

  “Just thinking about the day we ran into each other. About how I had car trouble, and you came out and offered me a soda.”

  A knock sounded, and Mark shifted his gaze toward a man looking at him through the windowpane at the top of the door. “Randy?”

  “I thought he didn’t work here anymore,” Beth said. “And why’s he wearing…gloves?”

  Mark set down his drink and opened the door. “What are you doing here so late?”

  Eyebrows arched, the man’s gaze pierced Mark. “I could ask you the same question.”

  “Huh? Look, I don’t think we need anything refilled right now, but thanks.”

  “I’m not here to refill things. Came here to find out more. And imagine my good fortune running into the two of you.” Randy removed a notebook from behind his back and waved it in front of Mark. “Look familiar?” His gaze moved to Beth.

  Blue, spiral, three ring, and distinctive drawings on the outside. “Hey, that’s mine. Where’d you get that?” Mark reached for the item, but Randy pulled it away.

  Randy tucked the notebook under his arm. “Let’s just say, I came into possession of it.”

  Mark took a step forward, towering over Randy. “You mean you stole it.”

  “Making accusations, Mark? Not nice. Especially when I could make a few of my own. This diary of yours, thought-provoking material. I’m sure Beth might be interested in the contents.”

  No way. He reached for the diary, but Randy dropped the notebook and brandished a gun.

  Mark’s senses jumped to full attention. The man waved the weapon in front of them and nodded toward Beth. “You can tell her the truth, or I can. What’ll it be?”

  Mark put his hands up and moved closer to Beth, attempting to shield her. An emotional interplay. Smart move on the other guy’s part. Now if only he could keep his head straight and his mind focused.

  Beth grabbed his shoulder. “Tell me what?”

  Not now. The moment Mark had dreaded the past eleven years, and at a time when he needed more than anything to stay focused on the gun. “Beth, I wanted to tell you. But I didn’t know how.” He kept a gun in the work desk. The problem would be getting to it without being noticed.

  “What do you mean?” Beth asked. “I thought you’d told me everything about your condition.”

  Randy stepped toward Beth. “When your brother died…” He turned his head at an awkward angle. A wild and bizarre grin formed on his face—the sides of his mouth lifted at awkward and unnatural angles. “Know how it happened?”

  Beth glanced between Mark and Randy. “An ambush.”

  Randy leaned against the side of the desk and chuckled.

  Here it came. The gory details were headed toward Beth faster than a cruise missile. And Mark couldn’t stop it. But if he could stop Randy from hurting them…Mark shifted his gaze to the middle desk drawer, near where the man stood.

  “Right. An ambush. I’m guessing Mark neglected to mention the presence of friendly fire.” Randy shook his head. “Can’t imagine why.”

  “Friendly fire? No. No, I don’t believe it.” She glared at Randy then faced Mark. “Tell him it isn’t true.”

  “Beth, I wish I could.” He was going to have to wrestle for the weapon.
There was no other choice. He might get shot, but at least he could save Beth.

  “You shot him?” She covered her mouth with her hand.

  “Someone in our unit did. I was in charge. I didn’t see the ambush coming. Chris went down, and I tried to save him. I failed him.”

  “After you shot him?” Randy’s smile turned to a grotesque frown. “You said you were guilty. You wrote about it.”

  Emotions overrode his focus on the weapon, and Mark touched her arm. “I feel guilty. It wasn’t my gun that killed him, but I was still in charge. Under my command, Chris was killed as a result of friendly fire.”

  Beth sobbed. “No, this can’t be happening.” She stepped away from Mark. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. So he wasn’t killed by the enemy. He was killed by his friends.” She narrowed her gaze. “Was it Bill? Tim? What about Kent? What else have you been keeping from me?”

  “Beth, I’ll never tell you. The military dealt with it. In combat—”

  “First you neglect to tell me about the post-traumatic stress disorder and the fact that you can walk, and now this. How can ever I trust you?” She leaned nearer to him. “How can I ever get close to you?”

  Randy holstered his gun, grabbed Beth’s hand, and dragged her away. “C’mon, Beth. You deserve a real man, a whole man, someone better.”

  Mark reached for Beth, but his legs buckled beneath him. He slumped to the ground and put his hand to his head, but the pounding wouldn’t stop. His feet failed to cooperate. He couldn’t move. No, not again. Not another episode, now of all times. He tried to tell himself that it was all in his head—work himself out of the episode, but his legs refused to cooperate.

  Words came from Beth’s mouth, but Mark’s mind kept spinning. He tried to grip the wall to help him stand. He fought a losing battle, relying only on his upper body strength.

  “Mark, please.” Beth reached toward him.

  Randy dragged Beth to the door. They’d gotten that far.

  Beth kicked and screamed. “Mark, don’t listen to him. It’s in your mind. Your legs are fine. You can walk!” Again she screamed. “Get up, Mark. Help me. I forgive you.”

  45

  She was feistier than he imagined. The Knight would give Beth that. Juanita had not struggled as much when he’d kidnapped her from her new boyfriend’s apartment. With Mark slumped on the floor inside the building, Beth should accept her fate as well.

  If only she had the opportunity to get to know him better, get to know the real him, then she’d feel differently. She was smart. He’d handpicked her, so he ought to know—so smart that she had to eventually see things from his perspective. And if not…if not, then he’d have to opt for Plan B. He glanced at the Sig Sauer on his holster belt. Still there, still loaded, ready to be used if necessary. Outside the building, the Knight reached into his pocket to remove his key fob. He held Beth against him, one arm wrapped around her.

  At the same time, Beth kicked against the side of the building, apparently in an attempt to break free. He dropped his keys. “Oh no, you don’t.” He grabbed her left arm, leaned over into her ear, and whispered. “The rules to this game are very important, Beth.” Using his right hand, he grabbed his Sig and pressed against the small of her back. “Those who don’t play by them”—he tightened his grip on her—”get hurt. I help you, and in return, you accept my help. And if you can’t accept my help, then I’ll protect you in other ways, whatever the cost. But at least Mark won’t be able to hurt you anymore.” With the gun focused on her, he reached down and grabbed his keys with his free hand and unlocked his car.

  “God, please help me,” she said.

  Beth believed in a deity? So much for smart. “Go ahead and pray to your Creator. It won’t make a difference.” He’d prayed when his stepdad beat him, and nothing happened.

  Beth screamed and struggled some more. “Mark! Help!”

  The Knight dragged her next to the passenger side of his car and opened the door. “You don’t need him, Beth. You’ve got me. I’m your knight. I’ll keep you safe. I’m here to protect you. I won’t let him harm you anymore. I know you didn’t like it when he called you ‘little,’ but I think there’s nothing wrong with your height. And any guy who’d allow your brother to get shot by his own troops and not tell you isn’t the one for you.”

  He grinned. He’d rescued Beth, and he’d done it all without those stupid pills the doctor had prescribed. His heart raced. He sucked in a deep breath, more alive than ever before.

  46

  Though Beth and Randy stumbled outside, Beth’s words lingered and penetrated Mark. It was in his mind. And she’d forgiven him. A weight dropped from his body. Dear God, help me. Warmth flooded his feet and his legs. A miracle. Thank you, God.

  He struggled twice to gain his balance then stood up. Staring at the notebook Randy had left behind, guilt riddled him, and he began to stumble again. Mark closed his eyes and replayed Beth’s words. His mind might be weak, but his legs were able. He opened his eyes, ran to the desk, grabbed the gun from the desk drawer, and dashed outside.

  Randy was gone—and Beth with him.

  He dialed 9-1-1 and gave the operator the details. What now? Sit back and wait for the cops to find Randy and Beth? Not good enough. One thing was certain. Randy would take Beth back to his place, wherever that was.

  Mark sprinted inside and shook the mouse to wake up the computer. Logging on, he soon accessed scans of receipts from the vending company that contained Randy’s signature—Randy Smith. Mark snorted. Smith? Like that was the man’s real last name.

  Mark opened an Internet browser. An hourglass icon lingered on the screen. “Ugh. Come on.” He slammed his hand on the desk. The screen remained frozen for a moment but then loaded, one useless graphic at a time. Using the mouse, he moved his cursor to a search bar and began to type. His fingers moved faster than the letters appeared on screen. He clicked on the search button. Nothing. He clicked to stop loading the browser. The page stopped loading just as the search results began to appear on the screen. “Noooo!” He shoved the keyboard away then rubbed his forehead. “Get a hold on yourself, Corporal.” He reloaded the page then removed his fingers from the keyboard. As the hourglass again turned on the screen, he fought the urge to throw the computer against the wall. Instead he turned away, clenched and unclenched his fists, and then swung back to the screen. His breath came out in a swoosh. “Randy Smith, Riversdale, 1312 Kumquat Court.” Bingo. He removed a notepad from the desk drawer and jotted down the address.

  Keys in his pocket, Mark scrambled toward his van and punched the address in the GPS. With a bit of cloud cover, the GPS unit took a few minutes to acquire a strong signal. More precious time wasted.

  He used his Bluetooth to call Bill. “You were right, I’m afraid. Someone else told her my secret first.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He quickly explained to his friend what had ensued.

  “Hold on.” Bill spoke in the background. “OK, Tim’s dialing 9-1-1 and asking them to send some officers to that address you gave me.”

  “Don’t hang up. I need you to keep talking with me. Do what my therapist said. Stay on the line and remind me that it’s all in my head. Can you do that?”

  “You got it.”

  Mark accelerated the vehicle as the light turned green. Time was of the essence. Extra minutes could cost Beth her life. Dear God, please protect her. I don’t know how, but please make time stand still. Maybe he could reach her before the police could.

  ****

  Beth stared out the car window. Randy had locked the doors using the master control. His gun sat on the console between them.

  He caught her eyeing it then moved it to the driver’s side door storage bin. “Tsk, tsk. And don’t think about trying the doors. I have child safety locks. It’s for your own good…to help keep you safe.”

  No way out, at least not at the moment.

  He glanced at her. “It’s OK now, Beth. You don’t have to se
e him anymore.”

  “You don’t understand. I forgive him for what he did.”

  Randy grunted. “Please. My stepfather beat me. Mark caused your brother’s death. You can’t forgive stuff like that.”

  “But God forgives us.”

  “I hate to tell you, but God doesn’t exist.” Anger inflected in his voice.

  Oh yes, He does. Not like she could explain that to this lunatic.

  Randy pulled onto another street, this one less populated than the last. “Now, I just need to go home and get a few things before we head to my other apartment. I have more of those books with funny signs. I know how much you liked the one I let you borrow. We also need to stop by the cemetery to say good-bye to a friend, and then we can head out of town. Soon, we can put this all behind us.”

  Cemetery? Chills spread over her. God, give me peace. A sense of calm washed over her. No matter what happened, live or die, she had God.

  A car in front of them blew exhaust in their direction. Beth sneezed.

  “You have to watch out for germs. It’s very important.” Randy grabbed a box of hand wipes from the side compartment and handed them to her. “Clean your hands, then toss the offending wipe outside.”

  Doing as he instructed, she wiped down her hands and forearms thoroughly.

  Randy let the window down. “No funny business. It’s my job to protect you.”

  She tossed the wipe outside, hoping she’d sloughed off some skin cells during her cleaning. Maybe someone might find her DNA.

  The car came to a stop. Randy put her window back up. She studied her captor. This man feared germs. Maybe she could use this to her advantage. Sure he had a gun, but perhaps she could wield a different weapon.

  47

  The Knight drove for another block but cringed as Beth let out another sneeze. He wrestled with a thought. Should he kill her to protect her from her own germs? Nah, he’d just need to teach her how to avoid them in the future. And be sure to pop a few pills once they got back to his house.